by J D Abbas
“Hundreds,” Elbrion corrected.
Silvandir gave a stiff nod, eyes ablaze. “Even at seventeen, she’s tiny. I can’t imagine…ah!” He jumped from his chair and paced with a fury.
“And yet sh-she has more strength than any m-m-man I know,” added Braiden. The young healer’s voice was quiet, restrained. “When I saw h-her crawling for the cliff after f-falling from C-Celdorn’s stallion and injuring her leg, with her b-body already damaged from her captivity, I was astounded by how hard she f-fought to be free. Most p-people would have collapsed long b-before.”
Dalgo joined in. “She allowed me to stitch her wounds with nothing to numb the pain, and she didn’t react, not a flinch. I was amazed.”
“We weren’t on the road with you,” Silvandir said, nodding toward Mikaelin and Shatur, “but from what I heard in this room tonight, I will do whatever you ask, Celdorn, to find justice for this girl and to save any other child from the suffering she’s endured.” Silvandir’s eyes flashed. “This is unpardonable.”
“How this wickedness has festered in our valley for twenty years without our awareness says something about the failure of the Guardians in this outpost,” Shatur said, “a failure that needs to be rectified.”
“My friends,” broke in Elbrion, “this kind of malevolence has existed since the dawn of time, when man first felt passion in his loins and the desire to dominate. Yes, we are in the protected realm, and yes, the Jhadhela has curbed some of those urges, but the Zhekhum is not gone. As long as there is life on Qabara, there will be evil. That it should be underground and hidden from our view is the very nature of evil. When it surfaces and we are given the opportunity to right the wrongs, we do so, but to chide ourselves for not seeing the invisible does no one any good.”
“Only a fool would believe that laws can control a man’s lust for power or rein in his appetites,” Mikaelin said, staring at the cup in his hand. “It is, and has always been, the nature of men to prey on the weak and helpless. I have never believed otherwise, so it’s no shock to me. I’m only surprised we don’t see more of it—but then, I’m more cynical than the rest of you.” He tipped his cup toward the others before swirling his ale and downing a gulp.
Celdorn studied Mikaelin with a frown. He sensed something more in the comment but let it go. “So what do we do?” He looked around at the others.
Tobil responded first. “We find out what information we can from the girl in the morning, and then we go to her village and follow the leads as quickly as possible. They will soon know that she’s gone, and we want to move before they have a chance to hide their trail.”
“Elbrion, is it possible for you to elicit information from the girl—information she is reluctant to speak?” Silvandir asked. “Can you see people and places as you walk inside?”
“It is possible, but not certain. As I told Celdorn, each time I have entered her mind, I have had a different experience. I cannot explain it, but it is as if I am in a new world, as if she were not the same person. So I cannot tell you what I will find tomorrow. And to go inside someone searching for specific information is like trying to find a raindrop that has fallen into a river. There is little chance of success unless Elena is willing to assist me.”
“But you learned things today that she didn’t speak,” Haldor said.
“Yes, but it would be more accurate to say I was assaulted by those pieces. They found me. Perhaps because Celdorn was pressing her on those points, or maybe it was what she was most trying to hide. I do not know.” He paused. “I do know that I fear to enter her mind again.” They all looked at him with surprise. “The images inside her are so infernal and potent, I am afraid they will break me.” Pain darkened his features as he spoke.
“I ask you to do only what you are willing and able to do, Elbrion, never more than that,” Celdorn replied. “We’ll hope that she can give us more information on her own. Beyond that, we’ll follow your lead.”
Elbrion nodded.
“Celdorn, there’s another matter that needs to be addressed,” Silvandir said.
Celdorn turned his weary gaze to the young man and gave a quick nod. Bria nudged his hand when he dared to stop petting her.
“Some information needs to be given to the men of the keep regarding this girl. Already there are rumors spreading; some of them are rather...vulgar.”
“Vulgar?” Celdorn’s hand tensed around Bria’s ear.
“Somehow the rumor was started that this girl is a...” Silvandir searched for a word. “That she was brought here for...” He hesitated again.
“Speak freely, Silvandir. She’s not here,” ordered Celdorn, growing impatient. His back hurt, his head ached, and he just wanted to go to bed and leave this day behind.
“The rumor is that she’s a whore, known from the village, and that she was purchased and brought here to meet your needs and Elbrion’s.” A bright flush spread across Silvandir’s stern face. “It pains me to even speak such words, knowing that nothing could be further from the truth, but the only way I see to silence the lies is to speak the truth, or part of it anyway.”
“And I told Elena that our men are honorable and that they are sworn to protect her—which includes her reputation. I’m disappointed.” Celdorn’s shoulders suddenly felt heavy.
Haldor stepped in. “I would suggest, my friend, that you address your men in the morning and remind them of their oath. It would also be wise to tell them how this girl came to be here. I believe they are honorable men, and when they know the truth, they will rise to your expectations.” He looked at Celdorn with concern. “And I also suggest that you get some rest. Tomorrow will be another difficult day.”
“Wisely spoken, Haldor, I accept your advice on both counts,” Celdorn conceded. “We’ll meet—”
High-pitched screams echoed through the corridor, followed by frantic barks. Celdorn leapt from his chair and raced toward Elena’s room, hand on the hilt of his dagger.
Chapter 13
Celdorn shoved past a confused Malqor. As the door to Elena’s room swung inward, light from the hallway fell across her empty bed.
The shrill screams had stopped. They hadn’t sounded like Elena, but they had come from this room. There was no one else inside, no apparent threat. Celdorn sheathed his dagger and turned on Malqor. “Where’s the girl?”
“I-I don’t know.” Malqor stood in the doorway holding a torch. “I heard her scream something about Anar killing him, but when I went in, no one was there. She and the dog were gone. I only left to get a light so I could search the room.”
Celdorn heard a sniffle. He couldn’t see Elena, but judging from the direction of the sound, she was on the floor somewhere to the left. “Light the lantern,” he snapped at Malqor. Then to the girl, he softened his tone. “It’s all right, Elena. I’m here.”
As light filled the room, Celdorn saw a young child cowering in the corner, the top of her white-blond head barely visible behind Sasha, who lay as if guarding the girl, hackles up. The girl’s wide eyes flicked from Celdorn to Malqor. The guard set the lantern on the table and eased out of the room while Celdorn moved closer and squatted, ignoring a warning growl from Sasha.
“Do you know where you are?”
The tot shook her head.
“Do you know who I am?”
Her white curls bounced when she shook it again.
The girl staring up at Celdorn wasn’t Elena, at least not the Elena he’d left a short time ago, nor was she the child he’d seen earlier in the day. This one was younger still, possibly not yet able to speak. She was curled up in the corner with her thumb in her mouth and a blanket wrapped around her arm, shivering. Although her face was smaller, her pale blue eyes were huge and able to open fully. The bruises and wounds to her face were gone, and both of her legs were bent and pulled closely into her chest, the injured knee no longer in a splint.
What is going on? This child was pale, almost luminous. Celdorn gave his head a quick shake. “Elbrion!”
“She doesn’t know where she is or who I am. Do you see what I see?”
Elbrion’s brow furrowed. “I see a girl, perhaps younger than two.” He glanced at Celdorn and his frown increased. “She looks as if she could be an Elrodanar child.”
Though relieved to know he wasn’t losing his mind, Celdorn was at a complete loss. “What do we do?”
Elbrion began to sing in gentle tones, enveloping the room in a sense of calm as he crouched by Elena. Slowly, and in full view of the child, he reached out and touched her arm. The tiny slip of a girl let out a full-bodied, blood-chilling howl, an agonized sound far too big for her petite body, as if it flowed from some distant source, some deep well of night fiends. Sasha sat up and bayed in unison. Elbrion recoiled, grasping his head like he'd been struck. The girl’s wail stopped and Sasha quieted and laid back down, keeping the girl behind her.
Celdorn laid his hand on Elbrion’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“No.” Elbrion didn’t back off, however. He regained his composure and continued to chant. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched the top of the girl’s head. She didn’t cry out this time. His melody of light had the desired calming effect; the panic left her eyes.
While Celdorn watched in rapt amazement, her tiny body began to transform. The girl seemed to age year by year in rapid succession: her torso grew larger, developing the curves of a young woman; the structure of her face became thinner and more defined; her arms and legs went from plump and round to long and slender; her hair grew and changed colors until it fell to the floor in long, straight blond tresses; and her bruises and wounds reappeared in the final moments. She now looked seventeen again, with her injured leg back in the splint and stretched forward. Sasha whimpered and moved back. Elbrion sang until Elena’s body relaxed, and she gazed at him with recognition.
~
When Elena looked up, Celdorn and Elbrion were squatting next to her with such bewildered expressions it alarmed her. She'd done something again.
She glanced around and saw that she was on the floor in the corner of her sleeping quarters with Sasha lying by her side. “What happened?”
Celdorn rubbed his neck, “Umm, you were screaming. When I came in, I found you in the corner.”
Elena held her head as her heart thumped a chaotic rhythm. “I feel…dizzy, like I’ve been drugged.” She tipped her chin toward Celdorn. “I was screaming?”
He nodded. “Malqor said you cried out something about Anar killing someone. Do you know who that is? Was this a memory of some sort?”
Elena went cold. She knew she must have said Anakh, and the guard misheard her. At the mention of the name, a piece of the nightmare returned, and her heart felt like it might jump out of her chest. She couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to have said it aloud. “I don’t think so,” she lied.
“How did you get down here without hurting your knee?”
She shrugged. “The last thing I recall is you singing to me as I fell asleep. Then I awoke here in the corner looking at the two of you.”
“But I spoke with you, and you responded.”
“What did I say?”
“You didn’t speak; you simply shook your head.” He squeezed the back of his neck. “You looked as if you felt...small.”
Everything inside Elena stopped. What did that mean? What had she done?
Celdorn eyed her with concern. “We’ll talk more about it in the morning. You need to get some rest.” He lifted her, being careful with her leg, and laid her on the bed. Sasha jumped up and reclaimed her spot.
From there, Elena could see the many men waiting in the hall. She wished she could crawl away somewhere to hide and pulled Sasha closer. When Elbrion saw her looking toward the corridor, he left the room without a word, closing the door behind him.
She tried to compose herself but was afraid Celdorn was going to leave too. “I don’t understand what’s happening with me, and I don’t want to be alone in here.” Sasha was all well and good, but the dog’s presence hadn’t been able to prevent what happened.
Celdorn looked around. “I could bring a bedroll and sleep on the floor next to you. Would that help?”
“Yes...but could we, perhaps, keep the lamp lit?” Her traitorous voice quavered.
“Certainly, if that will help you rest easier.”
He moved to the door and called for Silvandir. After he entered, Celdorn asked, “Will you stay with Elena while I get my bedroll?”
Silvandir glanced at her and frowned. He leaned into Celdorn, keeping his voice low, as if not wanting her to hear. “Do you think that’s wise with the rumors and all?” Anger flashed in the Lord Protector’s eyes, and Silvandir lowered his gaze. “I beg your pardon; I was out of line.” He straightened and stepped back. “Yes, I’ll stay.”
Celdorn turned to her. “I’ll return shortly. Silvandir will remain with you while I’m gone.” When she glanced at the young man, he added, “Do not fear. Silvandir is trustworthy. He won’t hurt you.”
It was unnerving that Celdorn could read her so easily. He didn’t seem to be able to read Silvandir quite so well, however. Couldn’t Celdorn see how much this big man despised her?
When Celdorn turned to go, Silvandir was standing by the wall just inside the door, rigid as a battering ram. She was surprised to see Celdorn break into a grin. “I didn’t ask you to stand guard, Silvandir. I want you to keep the girl company, to help ease her fear while I’m gone,” he whispered. Celdorn nodded toward the side of the bed. “You might try the chair.”
With that, Celdorn left.
Silvandir stepped closer, hands clamped behind his back. “Are you all right, ma’am?” His eyes focused on Sasha rather than her. The dog’s tail thumped.
A twinge of pain ran across her forehead when she raised her damaged brows. “Ma’am? No one’s ever called me that before.”
Silvandir shifted his weight. “Miss?”
Elena wrinkled her deformed nose, finding some enjoyment in unnerving this giant of a man, giving her a little sense of power in this otherwise humiliating situation. “How about Elena?” She attempted a smile, which seemed to twist on her swollen lips. “I’m a little confused and embarrassed, but otherwise fine. Were you all still awake and in your meeting?”
He pulled the chair farther from the bed before sitting down, looking like he might break into a sweat at any moment. Sasha wagged her tail harder and shoved her nose across Elena to get closer to him, but the big man kept his hands firmly on his knees.
“Yes, we were just finishing.” Silvandir sat rigid in the chair, his jaw set tight. Elena felt an odd internal smirk at his discomfort, and the room wavered. Sasha lifted her head, looked at her, and whined.
Elena felt her eyes narrow. “Did you decide what you’re going to do with me?” Her breath caught at her own audacity.
Silvandir shifted his weight and looked at her directly for the first time. “What we’re going to do with you? I don’t understand.”
It’s working. Her internal world tilted again ever so slightly. “I know you must have been talking about me. What do you do with a wounded whore in a keep full of men? Not an easy question.” An uninvited smirk pulled at her lips, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her pulse raced.
Silvandir scowled. “We would never speak of you in that manner. You say that lightly as if you think we treat your presence here as a nuisance or an occasion for sport. I assure you it is neither.” His powerful voice boomed in the small room.
Fear straightened her world. “I-I beg your pardon, sir.” She immediately focused her eyes on the bed, as she felt the color drain from her face. This was the wrong man to anger. She used every ounce of strength she had left not to wince or cower, not wanting to provoke him further. Sasha leaned into her chest, and she took up the dog’s ears, running the soft fur nervously through her fingers.
Silvandir’s expression immediately softened. “You needn’t ask pardon
; you’ve done nothing wrong. I just don’t want you to think we make light of your circumstances or would treat a guest with such disrespect.”
A guest? She raised her eyes to study him more carefully. An internal watcher noted that he hadn’t slapped her for her cheekiness nor raised his voice in retort. In fact, all the anger was gone from his face and posture.
“Do you need anything?” he asked, his tone lighter.
“No, I’m fine.” She raised her chin and tightened her achy jaw in an attempt at a bravado she didn’t feel. He seemed like a man who would value such strength. In the aftermath of the fear, her body betrayed her and started to tremble, quickly dismissing any hope of appearing strong.
“Are you warm enough?” He offered a blanket that was lying on the chest at the foot of the bed.
Something about his genuine concern made it difficult to remain on the defensive. “I think I’m still recovering from the nightmare—or whatever it was. I don’t feel cold.”
Silvandir laid the blanket around her shoulders in spite of her denial. “Is there anything else I can do?”
She glanced up at him as he leaned over her. A shudder she couldn’t suppress passed through her. This man looked similar to Celdorn with his dark hair and beard and squared, masculine features, but he was much younger, perhaps only a few years older than she. He was of an equal height with Celdorn, though he probably outweighed him by two or three stone—easily twice her size. And, whereas Celdorn’s hair was wavy and a bit unruly, Silvandir’s was straight as a plumb line and hung in thick, perfect, black tresses, highlighted by silvery patches with an odd blue cast to them, almost like the glint of steel, two of which framed his face. His beard, trimmed to perfection, also contained a few stripes of this exotic hue.
