Alicine looked at the flower with sudden interest, then took it from him and examined it.
“No, never,” she said.
She reached down and pulled a handful up, her eyes alight with discovery. She gathered more and brought them to her nose, inhaling deeply.
“Maybe Mother and I could use them to make a new potion,” she exclaimed. “If I saved some to take back home, I could plant the seeds.” She tucked them into the side-seam pocket of her dress, then headed off to skip between the patterned rows.
Dayn followed several paces behind. He smiled. “You look like you sprouted right out of the ground,” he called to her.
“What?” she called back. She looked down at her dress and at the sea of tiny white blossoms at her feet, then laughed with delight. The embroidered flowers of her skirt cascaded to the ground, blending with the others. She gathered a corner of her skirt and curtsied, then plucked another handful of flowers.
Suddenly her smile was replaced by a look of concern, the same concern that she recognized on her brother’s face. “What is it?” she asked, turning her attention in the direction of Dayn’s gaze.
Dayn stared out toward the hills. “Someone is coming,” he said. He crossed over to her side.
From a distance Dayn could make out few details, but it was obvious a person on horseback was galloping full speed toward them. Dayn’s first inclination was to grab Alicine’s hand and run in the opposite direction, but they would accomplish nothing if they avoided contact with others. They needed help: food, clean clothes, a place to sleep, directions back home. No one would deny them that, would they? No, they would just have to face whoever was approaching, and pray that the person was friend, not foe.
The whirlwind of horse and rider reached them in an instant and surrounded them in a cloud of dust. The strange boy atop the horse reined the lathered animal to a halt, nearly trampling Dayn and Alicine beneath its hooves.
Alicine screamed and grabbed Dayn’s arm. He pulled her close, his blue eyes flashing in the direction of the angry violet ones now staring him up and down from atop the horse.
“Why are Jecta trespassing in the fields?” the boy on the horse demanded. He steered the animal around the two of them, circling them as if herding sheep. With each pass he made, he created an invisible corral. He glared down at them with an expression of simmering anger.
The horse snorted and brushed against Dayn and Alicine, nudging them with its nose. The animal seemed aware of the discomfort its closeness caused and appeared to take some delight in it. But the boy’s face revealed no such delight as he stared at them with steely eyes. His mouth was hooked down in obvious distaste at the mere sight of them.
“I said, what are Jecta doing trespassing in the fields?” the boy repeated more firmly.
“I—I don’t understand,” Dayn said, glancing around. He didn’t know what a Jecta was, but thought perhaps he might spy one.
The boy narrowed his eyes. “The question is simple enough,” he said.
Dayn could feel his own legs shake and prayed the stranger did not notice. The boy expected an answer from him, but he wasn’t sure he could give him the right one and didn’t know the penalty should he fail to tell the boy what he wanted to hear. “We’re lost.”
“Lost? Do not lie to me, Jecta. You will regret it.”
Dayn felt a new uneasiness as the strange eyes bore into him. It was almost as if the boy knew him. But Dayn was quite certain he did not know the boy, for never in his life had he seen such a boy as this. He was tall, almost as tall as Dayn was, and certainly taller than any Kiradyn. His hair was odd, the color of fire, and though it appeared an attempt had been made to pull it back, most of it was whirled about his head and shoulders as if blown by a great and furious wind. His skin was fair, yet obviously exposed to the sun, and his violet eyes, neither pale nor dark, were of a color Dayn had never seen before. The boy wore gloves, but little else on the rest of him. His feet were bare, and the only thing covering his body was a faded black cloth tied about his hips, and a belt that appeared to have the handle of a long knife sticking out of it.
Dayn glanced at Alicine, who was still clinging to his side, and felt sudden concern for the fact that his little sister was standing before a practically naked boy. His common sense told him this was the least of their problems, but when he saw the expression on her face, he felt a new twinge of nerves take hold. He had expected her eyes to be modestly averted from the bold display of flesh atop the horse, but he was startled to see her examining the boy, her eyes full of wonder. It was all too clear that the wonder Dayn saw there was not just the question of what was going to happen to them, but the wonder of the boy himself.
Dayn pried Alicine from his side and moved her to stand behind him. He felt her bury her head in his back, but then she peeked around and continued her inspection of the strange boy who glowered at them from his lofty place of authority.
“We didn’t mean to trespass,” Dayn said. “We were just looking for food, that’s all.”
“Do you eat Frusensias?” the boy asked, eyeing the bundle of flowers still clutched in Alicine’s hand.
“Frusensias? I don’t understand,” Dayn said.
“Frusensias—the flowers the girl has in her hand there. I am losing patience with your act of ignorance, Jecta. You had best answer me and be quick about it. I asked you a question. You were going to eat them?”
“Eat them? No, she’d just never seen any like these and—”
“So she stole them,” the boy said.
“No! I mean, well, she didn’t steal them.” But then Dayn began to realize the ramifications of the boy’s words. He recognized that the plants were being cultivated, such as a farmer would a crop of corn or barley, but in his mind flowers were not such a crop. It had not occurred to him that they were stealing. Now, however, he was being forced to see it somewhat differently.
“I’m sorry,” Dayn said. “We didn’t know we were stealing. Where we’re from flowers are for everyone to use and enjoy.”
The boy sneered. “I know where you are from, Jecta, and you speak nothing but lies.”
Alicine stepped out from behind her brother and placed her fists on her hips. “How dare you call him a liar!” she said. “He doesn’t even know how to.”
Dayn grabbed her by the arm to pull her back, but she shrugged it from his grasp and threw the flowers to the ground. “There, have them back,” she snapped at the boy. “Eat them if you wish. I certainly have no desire to.”
The boy’s mouth dropped as though he had never been addressed in such a manner. He leapt from the horse and drew the long knife from the band at his waist, pointing it in Alicine’s direction. Dayn took a step forward in her defense, but a quick wave of the blade under her chin stayed his approach.
The boy kept the weapon pointed at Alicine as he circled, surveying her up and down. His gaze lingered on the dress, and for a moment a look of puzzlement crossed his features. But he quickly regained his look of contempt and moved back around to face her.
“So, a Jecta thief dares to disrespect a foreman,” he said. He flipped her long braid across her shoulder with the tip of the knife.
Dayn felt unbridled fury explode within him; the weapon became invisible to his eyes. He lunged at the boy, but in an instant found himself pinned to the ground with the blade tip pressed against his throat.
“I said I would have my enemy at the end of my sword,” the boy screamed, “and now I have!”
Dayn felt blood trickle down his collar as he stared into the crazed eyes that were now inches from his. The boy’s neck was bulging with fury, but his contorted face was almost unreadable. Was it recognition, hostility, or satisfaction? Dayn couldn’t be sure, but the intent was clear enough; the boy meant to kill him.
“Please,” Dayn rasped, “we meant no harm.”
“You lie, Whyn!”
Dayn felt the boy’s hot breath on his face. “No, please, I can’t win. You are the victor!” He choked as the knife
pushed deeper.
“Let go of him!” Alicine screamed. She rushed over and grabbed the boy’s arm, pulling the blade from Dayn’s throat. “It’s my fault! I took the flowers, not him! We’ll do whatever you say. Just let him go.”
The boy’s eyes fluttered and their glazed look seemed to melt away as he turned them to Alicine. He swallowed, then blushed as if caught doing something he shouldn’t have. The boy leaned back and eased the blade further from Dayn’s throat. “Perhaps—perhaps you did not know,” he said.
“We didn’t. I swear it,” Alicine said.
Dayn held his breath and kept his eyes on the weapon still clutched in the unpredictable hand.
The boy placed his hand on Dayn’s chest to push himself up, but at that moment his expression turned to one of curiosity. “What is this?” he asked. He reached into the pocket of the coat and pulled out the tiny blue bottle, the one Dayn had found in the cave. He held it up, rotating and inspecting it, then leapt to his feet, his fury fully returned.
“So you are thieves after all!” he said.
“No, we’re not!” Alicine cried.
“Then where did you get this? No Jecta comes by a vessel with the lion emblem on it, not honestly that is. This is stolen and it is you who stole it.”
Dayn struggled to his feet and wiped the blood trickling down his neck. He yanked Alicine over to him. “I took it,” he said. “She didn’t even know I had it.”
“Where did you get it?” the boy demanded.
“In the cave, but I didn’t know it belonged to anyone.”
“You lie, Jecta. No one goes to the cave. No one. It is forbidden for anyone to even step foot in the mountains. The gods would never allow it, especially someone like you. What Tearian home did you steal this from, thief? Tell me!”
The boy was shouting now, his face as red as his hair. He clenched the bottle in his fist as he waved it about.
Dayn stood trembling, at a complete loss for words. His eyes darted between the bottle in the boy’s one hand and the weapon still grasped in the other.
“And just what is considered stealing where you are from, Jecta?” the boy ranted on. “Is not taking something that does not belong to you stealing? Or do you simply make up your own rules as you go along? No, I think you knew you stole the bottle when you took it, just as I think she knew she was stealing when she took the Frusensias!” He shoved the bottle back into Dayn’s pocket, then ordered him to take off the coat.
Dayn complied, and the boy’s eyes were instantly drawn to the brooch pinned at Dayn’s breast. The brooch glistened for a moment, the brightness of its gold such contrast to the dull cloth it was pinned to. The boy’s face contorted. With a quick hand he snatched it from Dayn’s tunic, leaving a jagged tear in its place.
Dayn grabbed for the beloved ornament, but a lift of the weapon forced his hand back down.
“And this?” the boy said. He thrust the brooch out, keeping it beyond Dayn’s reach.
“My father gave it to me!” Dayn said. The defiance in his voice sounded strange even to his own ears, but he had no intention of letting the boy think he had stolen it.
The boy did not dispute him, nor did he accuse him further. He took Dayn’s coat from him, thrust the brooch into the pocket along with the bottle, and tossed the coat containing the incriminating evidence over the horse’s back.
“You will both come with me,” he ordered. Then he turned and grabbed Alicine by the braid of her hair.
She gasped with indignation as the boy pulled her toward him and backed toward the horse, his long knife pointed at Dayn. He sheathed the weapon briefly as he leapt onto the animal’s back, Alicine’s braid still in hand. She twisted in an attempt to get free, but a cruel yank stopped her efforts.
“Where are you taking us?” Dayn asked.
The boy smirked. “Where do you think I am taking you?”
“I—I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Watch your words, Jecta, or you will find yourself at the end of my sword again. Now, get yourself in front of the horse where I can keep an eye on you.”
Dayn started to cross in front of the horse, but then paused. “May we get our shoes, first?” he asked.
“Your what?”
“Shoes—boots—to cover our feet.”
The boy frowned at Dayn’s feet. “And what is the purpose of such things? To do further damage to your toes?”
Dayn looked down at his crusty blisters and realized he would probably be better off without them.
“Very well, fetch your boots,” the boy said. “But do not be tempted to run off. I have a good grasp on this braid here and might forget to let loose should I need to go galloping after you.”
Dayn nodded, then turned to scan the area for the shoes they had tossed into the grass earlier. To his relief, he spied them quickly and gathered them up. He handed Alicine her slippers, then sat down and pulled on his boots, lacing them hastily. Alicine, unable to bend her head down far, was left to push her feet into hers as best she could. The boy watched her with obvious amusement.
Finished, Dayn hobbled around to the front of the horse. “Which way?” he asked.
The boy scowled and motioned to the south, away from the mountains. “That way, to Tearia.” From the sound of his voice, he didn’t want to go there any more than they did. “What are you two called?”
“I’m Dayn and she’s Alicine. What are you called?”
“What? You do not know?” The boy laughed, but whether it was due to genuine amusement or whether he was toying with their ignorance, Dayn was not sure.
“I am Reiv,” the boy said. “Now walk.”
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Chapter 12: March to the Gates
The walk to Tearia was painfully slow, and Reiv was becoming increasingly irritated at his own grandiose plan. The terrain was not rough, the hills from this point were fairly easy to traverse, but to be slowed down by a girl whose braid was in his grasp, and a boy hobbling in strange foot coverings, was downright annoying. But even more annoying was the fact that Reiv found the Jecta boy strangely familiar, and it made him feel even more uneasy about his decision to return to Tearia.
That morning, when Reiv had stormed through the gates, the thought of starving in the wilderness seemed preferable to staying another moment in Tearia. But the further he rode from the city, the more he realized it was going to have to be preferable, as that was probably what he was going to end up doing anyway. He knew little about such things as surviving alone in the mountains of the region. Even there he didn’t belong.
But then he discovered two strangers in a field and realized the gods had given him an opportunity to return to the city with pride intact. The strangers were clearly Jecta thieves, and he, as foreman, had a responsibility to deal with them. Weighing what he had left behind with what he faced ahead, Reiv realized he had a choice: he could either take them back to Labhras with the hope of receiving some recognition for his loyalty, or he could continue on, letting fate fall where it may. From the increasing growls in his empty stomach, fate was looking none too pleasant. And so he had chosen to take them back.
Now here he was, lumbering down the road to Tearia with two prisoners in tow. He kept a close watch on the boy, but frequently found his eyes straying to the girl. His gaze trailed down the long braid clenched in his hand and to the head of the girl struggling to keep a cool distance. It was obvious she felt contempt for him, but he sometimes caught her sneaking glimpses in his direction when she thought he wasn’t looking. As she marched ahead of him, Reiv found himself staring at her hair. It was shiny black and looked to be soft, though he could not know for certain. The gloves prevented him from feeling its texture, but even without them he would not have been able to feel it. He imagined how long her hair must be unbound, left to cascade down her back. An ache filled his belly as a lusty image formed in his mind. He shook his head, flinging the foolishness from his brain.
Reiv’s curiosity
shifted back and forth between the prisoners. There was nothing about them that was alike. What was their relationship? he wondered. Brother and sister? No, probably husband and wife. It occurred to him to just ask, but then he thought better of it. He did not want to appear too interested in them, especially the girl. It would not be proper for a foreman to behave in such a manner.
Gitta nudged Dayn in the back, edging him forward a step or two. He flicked her a look of impatience. She persisted and no matter how many times he tried to sidestep her or scold her, she always managed to find him with her nose. Finally he gave up and slowed his pace to walk alongside her. He looped his arm under her neck and stroked her jaw as he assured her he was going as fast as he could and would appreciate a bit of patience on her part. She seemed satisfied with that and bothered him no more. But then her attentions turned to Alicine, who was walking a few paces back.
The first great lick caught Alicine full in the face, and she spat and wiped angrily. Reiv laughed, but Dayn went practically rigid.
“I think you’d better get your horse away,” Dayn said over his shoulder to Reiv.
“Would you rather me tie the girl behind it? Or is that why she needed her—what do you call them—shoes?” Reiv laughed again.
Alicine’s face turned red.
“I’m not jesting,” Dayn said. “You’d best move the horse away. Alicine has a bit of a temper.”
“I have yet to fear a girl, especially one so small as this. And I certainly have no fear of a Jecta,” Reiv said.
Alicine’s nostrils flared. “You’ve said that word to us over and over and I’m tired of it. What is Jecta? It’s not our name, so why do you call us that?”
Reiv tugged her braid. “Are you not from Pobu?”
“What is that? A city?” Alicine asked.
“You know full well it is,” Reiv replied.
“I know no such thing.”
Reiv jerked her braid to rein in her lack of respect, but a third tug left him flat on the ground, staring up at the furious girl who had suddenly turned, grabbed his arm, and toppled him from his perch.
Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light Page 14
