by Narro, B. T.
“We could be there for weeks, maybe longer,” Vala said. “No privacy, no servants or chefs, no access to the aqueducts, chamber pots. Are you certain?”
Jessend was smiling. “You can stay here if you like, Mother. Clearly that’s what you prefer.”
Jek was surprised when Vala seemed to consider it, her lips pressing together. She shook her head. “No, I couldn’t possibly.”
“So it’s decided,” Lisanda said. “We leave for Facian.”
Vala sighed. “I’ll go tell Micah.”
The moment she left, Lisanda stood on her toes and kissed Jek’s cheek. “My mother’s going to hate that small house.”
Jek chuckled. “I know. But will you be alright?”
“Of course. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’ll be fine.” He kissed her lips.
Jessend scoffed. “Spare me the romance.”
Lisanda pointed petulantly. “Says you, who’s going to find some young man in Facian and immediately fall in love.”
“Yes,” Jessend said, going along with the joke. “And don’t forget to add that Mother’s going to hate him.”
Jek laughed heartily with Lisanda.
After profusely thanking Owin and Heather, they mounted their horses and rode south.
Leaving The Nest seemed disgraceful. Jek felt as if he was abandoning all the people who gave him long looks of curiosity. As soon as they find out what happened in the palace, many of them will be leaving as well.
He thought of Cleve Polken. Jek hoped Ovira’s war was going as well as a war could. Some nights, when Jek was cleaning the wounds from his nightmares, he’d imagine Cleve returning with a cure. The thought of sleeping through the night without encountering his darkness had become such a distant dream, Jek scolded himself for still allowing it to tease him.
When he stayed at the palace, he and Lisanda usually shared a bed. She would squeeze her small body against him, grazing his arm with her fingers. At times, she would turn and pull his arm over her. She especially liked when he used his other arm to rub the back of her head, letting her hair run through his fingers as he massaged her scalp.
Yet she always pulled away before falling asleep, apologizing. She didn’t want to be so close when his flesh burst open and he began to shake and bleed. He couldn’t blame her for wanting distance, though he craved an end to it all. He longed for the night he could hold Lisanda in his arms as he slept, when she wouldn’t gently take his arm off her.
The thought of her touch made his heart beat against his chest. She bounced along on her horse beside him, wearing a smile for anyone who might recognize her. Her black hair and bronze skin caught the light of the sun, shining. She was beautiful, achingly beautiful, agonizingly beautiful. It hurt to think of being away from her for so long.
He’d spent many nights far from the palace, traveling on the King’s business. The separations from Lisanda always made him feel different. Perhaps it was because he was always acting in the interests of the King, but he couldn’t help but see himself as more of a tool—an instrument of justice and Danvell’s will, like his sole purpose was to protect Goldram. The intense feelings Lisanda stirred in him seemed like an anomaly to his otherwise stoic nature. But then he would encounter children chasing each other and laughing, or a man helping his neighbor lift something heavy, and Jek would feel Human once again, generous and free-willed. He wondered if there would be anyone around Lake Mercy who would inspire him the same way.
Lisanda pulled down her shirt to scratch her collar. She caught Jek looking and flashed a smile. Oddly enough, her collarbone was one of his favorite parts of her body. He didn’t exactly understand why, perhaps because it accentuated her generous curves and the sharp cheekbones of her animated face. Her favorite part of him was his eyes. “They remind me of the ocean,” she’d told him many times.
There were no guards at the southern entrance to the city, and Jek hadn’t seen any on their way there, either. He figured all had either fought at the palace and died or fled. Unless Fatholl stationed Elves around The Nest, criminals soon would thrive.
As in many small villages, a low fence had been built around Facian. It certainly wasn’t in any condition to stop a psychic Elf, or really any true enemy, but it was good against wolves looking to snatch a chicken or hare, which some people kept on their property.
Because Facian was close to The Nest and built on fertile land, the townspeople paid considerable taxes to the Takarys. But Sannil had plenty of money, some from the sale of his old farm and more from the generous salary Jek earned for his duty to the King.
Lawfully, Vala could invoke the hospitality rule within Facian, just as she could at any other town in Goldram. This entitled her, or any royal, to take whatever they desired so long as it aided them in their journey. She could stay at an inn and ask for three meals a day for as long as she pleased. She could visit a tailor and request the finest garments available. She could go to a blacksmith and take his weapons, even ask him to make one special for her or her guards.
But Jek knew the Queen. She wouldn’t take anything she couldn’t pay for unless absolutely necessary. However, after a while, she might move into an inn rather than stay in Sannil’s cramped house. And she certainly would want her daughters with her.
As they came into Facian, everyone who saw them stopped. Many bowed or curtsied, but some of the younger boys froze with fearful looks, as if they’d just been caught stealing a cookie before dinner. Jek took to the front, eager to see his sister and father. It had only been a couple of weeks since his last visit, but it didn’t matter. It was always comforting to reunite.
Kalli was in front of the house, tending to the pigs. Her mouth popped open. Without even a wave, she turned, walked to the front door, opened it and shouted, “Jek’s here! And he brought the Queen, both Princesses, and about ten more people.”
As Jek dismounted, he could hear Sannil laughing from within the house.
“That was a good try, but I don’t believe it. Jek knows I’d be furious if he did that without warning.”
Jek’s heart dropped. He forgot to consider this from Sannil’s point of view. His father hated not being able to prepare the house for guests, especially royalty.
“I’m serious!” Kalli said. She looked over her shoulder to shake her head at Jek with a smile. She turned back and shouted, “And they have bags with them!”
“It’s not going to work, Kalli,” Sannil said. Jek could hear him coming down the stairs from the second floor.
“I’m sorry,” Jek called to his father as he stood beside Kalli in the doorway. “I’ll explain everything.”
Sannil chuckled as he descended the last of the stairs, clearly thinking Jek was in on the joke. But then he obviously saw everyone standing behind Jek, for his eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped.
“Bastial hell,” he muttered, stepping outside. “It’s true!”
“I’m terribly sorry,” Vala said. “I hope this isn’t an inconvenient time. May we come in?”
Sannil quickly bowed. “Of course, my queen.” He’d met Vala before, when Jek took him and Kalli through the palace. But it was just an introduction, with little more than their names shared.
Sannil moved aside and gestured for Vala and the others to enter. The guards would stay outside with the horses until instructed otherwise.
Sannil kept his bow low as Vala crossed his threshold. “Please,” she said, offering her hand to him instead. “That’s not necessary.”
He took her hand with a smile. Jessend offered hers as she followed her mother, shaking both Sannil and Kalli’s. “Pleasure to see you again,” Jessend told both of them.
“It’s an honor,” Sannil stated. Jek couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Although he knew it was the proper way to act, it was still strange when his father treated any of the Takarys like royalty. “We’re happy to have you visit,” he told Lisanda, then embraced her.
“We’re happy to be here.” Lisanda gave Kalli a hearty hug next
.
“Though I wish I’d known guests were coming,” he muttered to Jek, clasping his shoulder.
Micah Vail was last to enter, shaking Sannil’s hand and gallantly kissing Kalli’s. “We’re sorry to trouble you,” he told them. “We’re just thankful to be here. Don’t worry about the accommodations.”
“I couldn’t write to you,” Jek said, hugging his father. “Something happened at the palace.”
“Is everyone alright?” Sannil asked as Jek turned to embrace his sister.
“Unfortunately, no,” he said.
Chapter 10:
JEK
By the time they finished lunch, Kalli and Sannil knew everything that Jek did. Looking out the window, he saw it was still early. It was likely he and Micah would be leaving soon. He wouldn’t get another night with Lisanda like he’d hoped. Aching, he brought her out of the kitchen while everyone was chatting. From the way she looked into his eyes, he knew she felt the same way he did.
“I’m going to miss you,” she said, sliding her arms around the back of his neck.
He glided his arms behind her back, locking his fingers. Pain took hold of his heart, making it feel like it was sagging in his chest. Unable to think of anything to say that truly expressed his agony, he kissed her instead. She eagerly kissed him back, pressing her plump lips firmly against his. Her hands came loose from his neck, one finding his cheek and sliding up past his ear. Their mouths opened wide between kisses, their lips playing. She clasped his cheek with her other hand, squeezing tightly. He could feel his heart racing as their passion sparked.
She pulled her lips away, looking deeply at him out of the tops of her expressive eyes. He could see her furious desire, the same that burned within him. He rested his forehead against hers.
“Bastial hell,” he whispered, his heart thrashing in his chest. “Now it’s even harder to leave.”
She stood on her toes to give him another lingering kiss. Parting slowly, she took his cheek again and whispered, “Just come back.” Her voice held the wrath of a hurricane. He could already see the anguish and fury that would be unleashed if he didn’t. It would turn inward and nearly destroy her.
“I will.”
Jek was surprised when he turned to find Micah in the doorway. The man had slipped into the room without a sound.
“Ready?”
Jek looked at Lisanda one last time, his heart begging for just one more night. It reminded him of how he’d felt a few days after he’d taken her from the palace—when she’d become more important than the cure to his darkness. He’d figured then that their time together would end, but deep down he knew he’d do anything to be with her. At least now he didn’t have to worry. As long as he came back, she would be here.
As they embraced, Kalli stomped in, a complete contrast to Micah. “Don’t do anything stupid out there,” she said playfully, though he knew she had genuine concern for him. She lightly kissed his cheek, then enfolded him in her strong arms.
Sannil came in and rested his hand on Jek’s shoulder. “I try not to worry, but I can’t rid myself of the fear of one day seeing Lisanda alone at my door with grave news. Before you go throwing yourself into danger while you’re out there, think of your family.”
Jek nodded. He understood, though he couldn’t help feeling somewhat insulted. Was he really as brash as everyone made him out to be? The way he acted instinctively had worked out so far. Perhaps it wasn’t that they distrusted his method, just that they worried and didn’t know what else to say.
He embraced his father. “Everything will be fine.”
He and Micah said their final goodbyes as they mounted their horses. The seven guards from the palace already were in their saddles. “Are you certain you don’t want any of us to stay, my queen?” one asked.
“We’re fine, thank you,” Vala answered. “You’ll be of more use with my son.”
Soon after they started back down the path, Micah told Jek and the other men, “What the Queen said isn’t completely true.”
The guards looked as confused as Jek. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“She doesn’t know the conditions in which the fort is under siege. It’s surrounded by our enemies from Waywen and Presoren, and they’re preventing food from getting in. More mouths to feed will do more harm than good. What we need to do is find a way to protect the food deliveries. If we can’t do that, all we’ll be doing is causing them to starve more quickly.”
Some of the guards shared this information with those who were farther behind Micah and hadn’t heard what he’d said.
“We’ll discuss this more when we stop in Hillwak. We’ll stay at an inn and purchase food to take with us.”
“Can you give me a report about Hillwak?” Jek didn’t know much except that it was the biggest city in Goldram besides The Nest.
Micah brushed aside the black hair covering his forehead. “I haven’t been there in a long time, but I know much about it. The people who live there tend to keep to themselves. They aren’t very neighborly, and many have disdain toward the Takarys, which is why they keep to their own city instead of visiting The Nest. Collecting taxes from Hillwak is as nearly as difficult as in some of the more remote towns around the border. But we shouldn’t encounter any trouble while we’re there.”
Unless Fatholl has done something. Jek wanted to be angry at the Elf, but suspicion and curiosity were all he could muster for some reason. He didn’t know enough about his enemy to hate him. That female Elf, though…the image of her standing over Danvell’s body—she was easy to despise. Jek was glad she was dead.
He wondered why he couldn’t transfer that same hate to Fatholl, the commander, the one truly responsible. Was it his innocent yet sage countenance? He looked no older than Micah Vail, most likely in his twenties. The female Elf’s eyes had been grim and determined. But Fatholl had charm. He seemed concerned and caring.
There was an old saying: Know your enemy. Danvell had spent countless hours researching the Kings of Waywen and Presoren. But his efforts had amounted to nothing. His true enemy had plotted for years before Danvell ever heard of him. Fatholl couldn’t have accumulated such a following in secret without slow and careful scheming. The Elf was dangerous, more dangerous than any desmarl. Those creatures were practically brainless. Some people speculated the desmarls couldn’t distinguish between a Human and a goat. Both were just food to the beasts.
Jek had fought them, killed ten of them. They were treacherous but predictable. He’d rather face ten thousand more of those monsters than Fatholl’s army.
They rode west until the light of the sun was too dim to see farther than the ground right in front of them. The land southwest of The Nest flourished with trees and tall grass that acted as enough of a cushion for Jek to easily find comfort upon his blanket when they stopped for the night.
“Riding into danger has always troubled me,” Jek told Micah, as the adviser spread his blanket beside him. “But only because I despise the trip there.”
“Can’t stand the wait?” Micah asked.
“Exactly, especially when I know so little about what to expect when we get there.” He hoped Micah would take his comment to heart and tell him more about Lake Mercy.
“What do you want to know?” Micah let out a yawn.
“How certain are you Raymess will be there?”
“I’m fairly confident. I know the young man.”
Jek didn’t know Raymess well, just that he was a dutiful prince above all else. He seemed incapable of laughing and smiling, sometimes reminding Jek of Danvell. That memory caused the feeling of a pin pricking his heart.
“What are your thoughts toward Fatholl?” Jek asked.
“I thought you were worried about Lake Mercy?” Jek couldn't see Micah’s face, though from his tone it sounded like he was smiling.
“My mind wanders.”
“From what I know about you, it seems more like it runs than wanders.” Micah chuckled, then let out a sigh. “Fatholl f
rightens me, if you want to know the truth. I’ve always prided myself on reading people. I was good at it even before I could use psyche. But I haven’t the faintest idea what Fatholl has planned. He must know he can’t take Goldram or any of the four eastern territories. He probably couldn’t even hold the palace against the Takary Army once it gathers. He claims his goal is to exterminate the desmarls.”
“And you don’t believe him?” Jek found himself hoping Micah would say yes. It would give Jek grounds to hate the Elf for lying, for using the desmarls as an excuse for murder and his lust for power.
“That’s what scares me the most,” Micah answered. “I do believe him. Whether he’s delusional or brilliant, he’s confident and alarmingly genuine. I was too far away to use psyche when we were listening to him, but I still knew.”
“Was Vala upset with you when she found out you were a psychic?”
“I think she would’ve been if Danvell had known while she didn’t. But because I kept the secret from nearly everyone, she understood. The King was a bit absurd in his fear—no, I shouldn’t say that.” He drew a deep breath. “Not when it was a psychic who killed him. What a sad fate, to die at the hands of what he feared the most.”
Suddenly Jek was crying, though he hadn’t even felt sadness coming on. It struck him like a wave of water crashing on top of him. And just as quickly, he dried his eyes and found his strength before letting even the faintest whimper escape his throat.
If Micah heard or sensed it with psyche, he politely said nothing.
By evening the next day, they came to Hillwak. The city was barricaded by a stone wall too high for any man to climb. There was only one entrance, and it was on the east side, where those who built it must’ve figured trouble was least likely to come from.
Up until the Bastial Steel War ten years before, governorship was decided by citizens electing a man for the job. During the war, however, the leadership role was assumed by Sabin Takary, one of Danvell’s many cousins. A battle came to Hillwak, and numerous men who didn’t wish to fight were forced to anyway.
