Illuminated

by Jackie Castle

  “I…I’m sorry.” He gasped.

  “No, you’re fine. Just calm down. Okay?” As she cleared the dirt and blood away, she gasped. “Jerin?”

  He squinted and slowly opened his dazzling blue eyes. A slow grin broke across his pale face. “Princess!”

  From behind her Lotari repeated, “Princess? He must have swelling on his brain.”

  “Long story. This is the one I was traveling with. Remember me telling you about him? We split up right before I met you?”

  He stepped closer and peered over her shoulder at the giant boy. “You don’t say?”

  Jerin started fighting again, fear filling his eyes. “Get him away from me!”

  Alyra continued to wash down his arms and checked for other wounds. His pale blonde hair had grown considerably and his beard now completely covered his chin.

  “Jerin, try to keep still. You’re safe, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. Lotari is just going to set your leg, I’ll stay right here with you.”

  The boy glared hatefully at Lotari and growled through clenched teeth, “Over my dead body. He better not lay one grubby paw on me if he knows what’s good for him.” With that, he passed out.

  “Paw?” Lotari said with indignation. “Did he just say I had PAWS?”

  Chapter 21

  “I had such a strange dream.” Jerin rested in one of ten beds lining the temporary medic room in the Meeting Hall. Alyra sat beside him on the edge of the straw mattress, a bowl of Marya’s herbal soup, made from the fruit of the white tree, heating her hands.

  She tipped a spoonful to his bruised lips, urging him to drink down the healing concoction.

  He swallowed. “That’s really good. Did the healer make this soup?”

  His eyes darted nervously toward Lotari who busied himself with helping Marya make more bandages. Jerin’s splinted leg hung from a sling post attached to the foot of his bed. He’d also suffered a cracked rib and numerous bruises. The leg was broken when some kind of trollish beast, as he described, stepped on him. Issah and Marya worked together to set the broken bone.

  “Yep, she’s a great cook.” Alyra held up another spoonful for him. “What was your dream?”

  “I was walking around a dark cave and kept hearing someone call my name. The voice sounded like the Prince’s. If not for him coming to our aid, we all would have been dead.” His eyes took on that distant, lost appearance she’d seen several times since he’d returned.

  She hadn’t seen any Prince, and wondered if he’d hit his head harder than they thought. What she did remember was how worried she’d been when Issah and Marya worked so diligently on him after he’d passed out. Issah remained at his bedside, quietly calling to him and whispering in his ear until the fever broke and the danger passed. Before Jerin regained full consciousness Issah left, needing to take care of other things, Marya explained.

  His pale brows knit over his blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Pr—, I mean, Alyra. For all the stuff I said. And did.”

  Her words clogged into a large, painful lump in her chest, so she offered more soup instead.

  After several attempts to clear her throat, she managed, “So what happened? Where’d you go?”

  “Well….” He scooted higher in the bed, wincing.

  Alyra adjusted his pillows and when she tried to give him another spoonful, he took the bowl and began feeding himself.

  Between sips, he continued, “I didn’t realize I’d even gotten off the path until I drank of the good water from the stream I was following. Then everything seemed to snap in place and I realized you weren’t with me.” He shrugged. “Probably just as well. You might not be speaking to me now if you’d heard all the stuff spewing out of my deranged mouth. Again, I apologize.”

  “Can’t be much worse than... well, never mind. In the past, right?”

  “Right.” He gave a nod, grinning. “Carah told me that if I got off the path, to remain heading east until I found it again. But then I came to a small town and found out that I could reach the White Road within a half-day’s journey.” He went on to explain that a group of men were traveling in the same direction, so he joined them.

  “The problem was we all got so engrossed in talking about our hometowns and adventures we’d had, or hoped to have, that I completely missed the White Road. You know, you really have to keep your eyes open.”

  Marya came to his bedside with a cup of steamy tea. “This will help with your pain, sweet boy.”

  His cheeks flushed as he handed Alyra his empty bowl. Marya took a seat on the other side of his bed, a basket of bandages resting in her lap.

  “Anyway, I didn’t even realize I’d missed the path until we reached the next town.”

  “Was this one of the Kingdom towns?” Marya asked.

  Jerin shrugged. “I don’t know. Reminded me of my own hometown. You know, the people were hard workers who just wanted to live in peace without intruders. But huge! Simply amazing, with all kinds of people and homes made of brick and clay. Some of the houses were stacked up on each other, unlike I’ve ever seen before. So several families could live in the same spot but have their own dwelling.”

  “I’ve seen that before,” Alyra remembered the stacked houses in Racah.

  Marya looked pointedly at her. “You know a Kingdom town when you see it.”

  She nodded, knowing exactly what Marya meant. The people of Many Waters had a different perspective on how to get along and what mattered. Work was important, but not the main importance. She also noticed how hard they tried to show kindness to outsiders, including Lotari’s centaur clan.

  “So tell us what happened then.”

  He drained the cup, then set it on the bedside table. His brick-shape faced became animated as he started the rest of his story.

  “Well, I was going to backtrack the next morning and find the Highway again. I stayed at an inn with the other men. Then word came to us at dawn that the city was enlisting soldiers. Evidently a band of trolls were plaguing the out-lying villages. Since I’d told them about my desire to be a warrior, they thought I might be interested. My friends signed up for what sounded like a grand adventure.” He waved his hands for emphasis. “I didn’t need any special training. Just a willingness to fight. “So I signed on.”

  He sighed and shook his head dismally. “Big, big mistake … in the end, anyway.”

  “Is that how you were wounded?” Alyra took his dishes and set them aside.

  Lotari’s hooves clomped across the room as he headed outside onto the front porch. He became antsy when indoors for too long.

  Jerin’s narrowed blue eyes followed his retreat, and once the centaur was gone, he let out a long breath. “No, we won that battle. But the next thing I knew, we were sent off to stop a raid of dwarves and ghouls. We put an end to those little monsters, as well.” His voice grew dismal. “If only I had stopped there. I’d actually found the White Road again. I should have turned off then and made my way east, but…well, I was…I was so enjoying being a soldier. You know?”

  Marya nodded with an understanding smile. “Sometimes, dear boy, the easy and quick way to your dream isn’t always the best way. Though you were in the battle, you found yourself ill-equipped for real warfare, didn’t you?”

  Jerin let out such a long breath his shoulders slumped. “I did all right until we went up against Lord Darnel’s soldiers. They were the most evil, brutish men and-” He hesitated a moment, glancing at Alyra, “-beasts, I’ve ever seen in my life.” His eyes misted and he stared out the window, his face etched with a lingering pain. “We were no competition. I wasn’t ready to deal with them or their war tactics.” He rubbed his bandaged forehead and said more to himself, “Seemed so easy when I watched General Marcel’s warriors. I can’t…”

  Marya laid a comforting hand on his splinted leg. “That is why training is imperative. You must be well equipped before facing such a fierce enemy. You must be under the King’s protective cover, fighting not for your own glory, but for his
greater good. Not all battles are meant to be fought, dear. When you are Shaydon’s warrior, instead of being just another soldier, you will know the difference.”

  His brows wrinkled in confusion. “Isn’t a warrior and soldier the same thing?”

  “No, they are not.” She stated with finality. “Someday, you will see exactly what I mean, sweet boy.”

  He shook his head, clearly confused by her words. “Most perished. Our captain. All the men I had traveled with were dead.” His brows wrinkled as he stared at his large, calloused hands. “If not for the Alburnium warriors arriving when they did, we would have all been slain. The Prince’s forces conquered the enemy in no time. Just like General Marcel’s unit did, you remember?”

  Alyra leaned forward, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “The real Prince? You’re lucky. I’ll probably have to wait until I get to Aloblase before I get to meet him.”

  Marya rocked in her chair, a smile crinkling the lines around her mouth. Alyra was about to ask what she found humorous when Jerin interrupted, “Now you tell me your story. How did you end up here? I figured you would have been long gone by now.”

  Before she had a chance to respond, Beave burst into the room, his small chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “There’s a lone soldier. Out in the woods. He’s hurt bad. Everyone’s arguing about if they should... help.” He sucked in a couple more breaths as he went to Marya’s chair. Lotari returned, watching the boy with interest.

  Lotari asked, “Is he one of the vagabond militia these belonged to?”

  Beave shook his head. “He has the dark lands emblem. I think the Mayor wants him captured and you know, but—”

  Marya leapt to her feet. “No, they can’t. Not if he’s defenseless.”

  “Thought you’d say that.” Beave wiped his long bangs from his eyes.

  “Marya,” Lotari placed a hand on her shoulder. “What if it’s a trap?”

  She seemed to consider this a moment. “Will you ask your clan to circle the woods where he’s at while I gather some supplies? If it’s a trap, they can send back warning. Otherwise, I’m going to try to help him.” She darted around the room, filling her medic bag with bandages and other items.

  Alyra stood and went to her. “Why would you want to help an enemy? What if....”

  “You stay here, sweetheart. Understand? You’re safe here. I’ll be fine. Life is a risk, dear. Shaydon will keep me safe, I believe that.”

  She kissed Alyra’s cheek, then hurried out. Lotari insisted on going with her.

  Why would Marya help an enemy soldier? He deserved to … she stopped herself. What? Die? He deserved to die? For doing what he was ordered? She closed her eyes. Please let Marya be all right. She should have offered to go help.

  Beave stood at the tall front windows. “I’m going upstairs to watch what’s going on. You coming?” He turned to Alyra.

  “That won’t technically be leaving the safety of the Meeting Hall, right?” she asked.

  Jerin growled, “You were told to stay here.”

  She glared at him. The roof would still be safe.

  He rolled his eyes, settling back on his pillows. “Never mind. Look who I’m talking to. Miss Never-Listens. Just make sure you come right back and tell me what happened.”

  “Deal.” She ran after the boy who was already halfway up the stairs. From the roof, Alyra could see the township and the farms spread over the valley down in the canyon.

  “There.” Beave pointed toward the burnt woods. “I see them. It’s a dwarf that’s injured.”

  She hurried over to see Marya slowly approaching the small man-creature. He crawled away, dragging his leg. Perhaps his leg was broken like Jerin’s. The Healer’s words must have eventually calmed him because he stopped and allowed her to move in closer. Lotari stood guard over her, hand on his club, but made no move to draw his bow and arrow. Alyra hoped his clansmen also had him covered.

  Beave sat on the stone wall, his skinny legs hanging over the side. “Knew she’d want to go help. We don’t take much to harming others, but with all the recent attacks, everyone’s on edge. We still gotta be careful.”

  Below, in the clearing, Lotari cut down a limb to fashion into a crutch while Marya splinted the dwarf’s leg. They seemed safe, so her eyes began to wander around the town and down the cliffs into the surrounding valley. Along an outcropping halfway down, she spotted several mounds of fresh dirt. “What’s that place over there?”

  Beave narrowed his eyes, following her pointing finger. “Burial grounds.”

  “You said nobody died in that last battle.”

  “We didn’t, but the enemy suffered. We lay them to rest as well. See that stone arch? That marks the area of where we bury fallen outsiders.”

  Alyra’s breath caught. Tarek!

  Tearing downstairs, Alyra ran to the edge of town with Beave on her heels.

  “You was told to stay in the Hall. Please don’t do this again, Aly. Please come back. I’ll get in trouble this time if I let you get away again.”

  She stopped, spinning to face him. “Take me down to the burial grounds.”

  “But….”

  “I have to see something.” She continued toward the cliffs, intending to climb down the side if necessary.

  She was pulled up short when the boy grasped her hand. “Okay, but this way. You’ll walk right off the rim if you’re not careful.” He tugged her toward a narrow white path, leading into dense woods. Soon, they came upon a walkway cut into the side of the rocks. Alyra tried not to look down into the depths, misted from the many waterfalls cascading over the edge. If Tarek went over in the river, he’d never have survived the drop. Had someone found his broken body on the shore of one of the rivers? Her head swam and she had to press herself to the rock face for a moment to steady herself.

  “Best not to look down. Just keep going. We’re almost to the bridge. Gets better from there.” He jogged along as if walking upon solid ground and not a narrow ridge. Eventually, as Beave said, the path moved away from the cliff and turned into a mossy stone bridge. To one side poured a waterfall. The other looked out over the farms below. What a breathtaking view. Her clothes, dampened by the mist, clung to her body. She walked carefully over the slick stones. Beave was already across and waiting at the edge of the cemetery.

  “This is where we bury those who’ve crossed the curtain.”

  She didn’t understand what he was talking about.

  He pointed toward the green splattered archway. “That’s where we put the fallen soldiers. Outsiders. I don’t get what the big deal is, Aly. I don’t even know why we bother, ’cept Mayor says they still deserve respect for fighting for what they believed in.” He rolled his eyes.

  From the valley below a gong sounded.

  “That’s my call to go home.” He wrung his hands. “I hate to leave you here. Why don’t you go on back to the Hall before they realize you’ve gone? There’s nothing here to really see.”

  Alyra nodded, her eyes focused on the arch. “Sure, you go on, Beave. I’ll be fine. I’m on the white path, right? I’m safe then. I’ll head back in a bit.”

  He hesitated, his eyes darting to his home below then to her.

  “I won’t stay long.”

  His shoulders rose with his deep breath. In resolution, he nodded, then scampered along the path that would lead him on down into the valley. Sometime before she left, she wanted to explore the farms spread across the basin. Maybe Lotari would take her soon.

  With slow steps, she headed toward the soldier’s burial site. Passing beneath the arch, she read the engraved words, “Pugnaverunt, fortiterque pugnantes.”

  Her tutor in Racah had taught her some of the ancient languages. She knew the words roughly meant, “They fought a good fight.”

  The patch of turned soil was several yards long and about two yards wide. A mass grave, she supposed because of the number of beings that lost their lives that day. Her heart banged inside her chest. She’d seen many sold
iers in the castle. Some standing guard, others there for meetings or certain celebrations. A few treated her kindly. Like Tarek sometimes did. When he wasn’t mocking her for her attitude. Yet, as she considered his actions, more often than not, he helped her clean the dungeons, brought her fresh bread or a special pastry his mother had made. She’d hated her life and everyone there so much, she missed the few acts of kindness people did extend her. Even Ben gave her freedoms she knew he wasn’t supposed to give. She’d been too wrapped up in her own problems to see what others also had to go through.

  Her legs wobbled as the weight on her heart grew too heavy for her to bear. Collapsing on the damp, mossy ground, she hid her face beneath the hood of her cloak as uncontrolled sobs shook her whole body.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention. I am a selfish castle brat. I am. I never paid any heed to what others were going through.” The tears poured out like an unstopped spout, first sputtering out the clogging dirt, then flowing freely, washing away the clustered debris until the water flowed freely.

  “I’m so sorry, Tarek. You weren’t my enemy. You were just trying to help me. Always trying to help me.” And in that moment, she realized her greatest pain was from the possibility of him being below the pile of dirt. Of her not having the chance to thank him for rescuing her. Twice. Of not telling him she … cared for him, too.

  Rustling grass sounded behind her. Too paralyzed by her sorrow, she couldn’t make herself look up. Hands grasped her shoulders, lifting her to her feet.

  “What are you doing here, silly girl?” Lotari eyes widened when he saw her tear covered face, then softened as he brushed his rough thumbs across her cheeks.

  “Again you cry. And there’s no rain to cover your sorrow today. Tell your friend Lotari what’s troubling your heart.”

  She allowed him to pull her over to a stone wall where she could sit. His back end sat as he settled beside her, one arm around her shoulder as he removed his water-bag with his free hand and offered her a drink.

  The cool, healing waters quenched the emotional fire burning her throat. After several deep breaths, she found her voice again. “It’s a long story, Lot. I’m afraid you’ll see what a wretched person I am if I tell you.”