Dayn and Alicine looked at each other then back at him, confused by the definition of the word as well as his statement following it.
“Reiv,” Jensa said, “may I rephrase it a bit so they’ll understand?”
Reiv shrugged with indifference.
“In Tearia there is a royal family,” she said. “They possess the highest political power in the land, other than the Priestess, and we’ll discuss her later.” She frowned, then refocused her attention, and her expression, back to the subject of royalty. “The King is the ruler and the princes are usually his sons and grandsons. The King of Tearia is Sedric and he has two sons, Reiv and Whyn. The oldest son inherits the monarchy, or kingship, upon the death of the father.”
Her eyes moved to his, and for a moment Reiv thought he saw pity there. He turned his gaze to the tabletop, and swallowed down the emotion that was mushrooming in his throat.
“So, Whyn is the prince who will be the king because he is older,” Alicine said.
“No,” Reiv replied, “I am older, but by one minute only.” He glanced at her questioning face. “We are twins.”
“So why then—” Dayn began. His attention moved to Reiv’s gloves. Reiv moved his hands to his lap.
“Why aren’t you still a prince, Reiv?” Alicine asked.
“Because I became impure.”
“Impure?” Dayn exclaimed. “You mean your hands? Your family disowned you because of your hands?”
“Yes. I was Unnamed because of them.”
“But you still have a name,” Dayn insisted.
“It was once Ruairi, but that name was taken from me because it meant ‘Red King’. Since I could no longer be the Red King, I was given a servant’s name.”
“Well, that’s just wrong,” Dayn proclaimed.
Reiv gaped at him, then forced a weak smile of appreciation. “At any rate, there is nothing that can be done about it. I will have to remain the nobody I am.”
“There are no ‘nobodies’ here,” Nannaven said. “Especially not you, Reiv. Everybody has a purpose.”
Reiv laughed. “I am sitting in a hovel surrounded by Jecta with no place to go and nothing to do. I do not see what great purpose there could be in that.”
“How did your hands get burned?” Alicine asked.
Reiv’s expression darkened. “I do not wish to talk about it. Do not ask me again.” He turned his attention to the Spirit Keeper. “Nannaven, I was wondering if you might take a look at my arm. I have a small wound that probably should be treated.”
“Lands, what am I thinking?” the old woman exclaimed. She moved to his side and eyed the cloth still tied around his forearm. “Come, let’s move over by the fire where I can get a better look.” She motioned him over to the hearth, and pulled out a stool, then pressed him down and untied the bandage, careful not to pull tender skin. “Who did this to you?” she asked with disgust.
“That guard did it,” Dayn said. He moved to stand next to them and eyed the blood-encrusted slice in Reiv’s arm.
“Shameful,” Nannaven muttered. “Well, don’t worry, it will be mended before you know it.” She instructed Jensa to fetch her some fresh water, herbs, and a clean bit of cloth. She cleaned it carefully and pressed the herbs onto it, then bound it with more cloth. “By morning you’ll not even know it’s there. Now what about your hands, do you need—”
“No!” Reiv said hastily. “I mean no, thank you. They are fine.”
“Very well. Take a seat on one of those mats there while I finish up. Dayn . . . sit.”
“Wha—Why?” he asked.
“Your lip, dear boy. Let’s take a look.”
Dayn felt along his lip with the tip of his tongue, seeming to have forgotten it had even been split. He sat down and leaned his face up to Nannaven, slanting his eyes aside to spy on Reiv.
Reiv picked at his new bandage, inspecting it to see what it was the woman had put into it. He caught Dayn’s eye and grinned. “Bet you never had your lip split by a Tearian guard before.”
“No, but I’ve had it split by worse.”
“Worse? Who could be worse than Crymm?”
“Sheireadan,” Dayn mumbled as the Spirit Keeper dabbed some ointment onto his lip.
“And who, may I ask, is that?” Reiv asked.
“Oh, he’s the brother of the girl Dayn likes,” Alicine said.
“Girl? Well, tell me about her, little cousin.” Reiv leaned in with sudden interest.
Dayn scowled and pulled his face from Nannaven’s probings. “There are some things I don’t want to talk about either,” he said coolly.
Reiv was startled by the chilly reply and dropped the subject immediately. The room became uncomfortably quiet as Dayn’s tending-to continued at the hands of the Spirit Keeper.
After Nannaven finished with him, she invited them all to sit on the mats laid out before the hearth while she took her place on the stool. They sat where instructed and waited. Alicine struggled to adjust herself in the sarong, while Reiv sat next to her with criss-crossed legs. Dayn threw himself onto his back, arms tucked behind his head, and closed his eyes in noticeable satisfaction of his pleasantly full stomach.
Nannaven eyed the three. “Before we begin,” she said, “is there anything else you need?”
“Before we begin?” Reiv asked.
“We have things to discuss. What must be done with you, for one thing.”
Dayn sat up quickly. “What do you mean, done with us?”
“Well, you must earn your keep, and though you are welcome to stay here for a time, eventually permanent accommodations will need to be made.”
“We will not be in Pobu permanently,” Alicine said.
“Oh?”
Dayn and Alicine exchanged glances.
“I know you are from another place,” Nannaven said. “Brina told me you are her son, Dayn, and that you and your sister made your way here through the forbidden mountains. Quite a feat for two so young as yourselves, I must say.”
“Brina said we aren’t to speak of it,” Dayn said.
“The Tearians must not know, of course. Were word of it to get to the Priestess, there could be dire consequences for all of you.” Nannaven’s eyes settled on Reiv. “Great pains have been taken by Tearian leaders, the Priestess in particular, to hide the truth of our histories. They have all lived a lie for far too long.”
Reiv turned his face from her, wounded by the attack on his heritage.
“You can deny it, Reiv, if you wish,” she continued, “but you’ll learn the truth of it soon enough.”
“The only truth that needs telling I already know,” Reiv said haughtily. “There are people living on the other side of the mountains. What of it? They are obviously stragglers from the Purge. The gods took mercy on them, that is all. They are just a few misplaced Jecta, nothing more.”
“Is that what you think we are?” Alicine said. “Jecta leftovers living by the pity of your gods? Well, we don’t even believe in your gods.”
Reiv gasped. “You do not believe in the gods? Why—why that is—”
“Is what?” Alicine said, her voice becoming heated. “Blasphemy? Well, we believe in one god only. Daghadar the Maker. He teaches us that there is only one true god. Where we are from it is a sin to believe in any others but Him.”
Reiv opened his mouth to speak, but Nannaven cut him short. “Enough. We can debate religion later. Right now we need to discuss the issues at hand.” She turned to Dayn who had not participated in the discussion between Reiv and his sister. “Dayn, what skills do you have?”
“Well, I’m good with farm work: plowing, tending livestock, planting, that sort of thing. But I also have some skill at blacksmithing. I was friends with the smith back home and he showed me things.”
“Gair is our smith. I’m sure he would be pleased to have you help him there,” she replied.
“Gair is the smith?” Dayn gulped. Gair hadn’t been mentioned since they entered Nannaven’s house, but the memory of the intimidatingly huge
man flooded back.
Nannaven laughed. “Don’t worry. Gair is a lamb in a bear’s body, unless he becomes angry, that is. Then, well, let’s just say you’d best pray he’s on your side.”
Dayn nodded. “I guess that would be all right. I think I’d rather work with the smith than till the fields at any rate.”
“Then it’s decided,” Nannaven said. Then she turned to Alicine, who had her arms crossed and her frowning face turned away from Reiv.
“Alicine, what skills can you offer?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Dayn said. “She’s the most talented person in all of Kirador with herbs and potions. She can do anything with them.”
Nannaven clapped her hands with delight. “Excellent! We’re in desperate need of healers here. I’d be so pleased if you would help me make and administer medicines for those in need, and I fear there are many.”
A smile crept to the corners of Alicine’s mouth.
“And you, Reiv? How about you?” Nannaven waited patiently, but he did not respond for a very long time. “Reiv?” she repeated.
“I do not know,” he said, stabbing the dirt with his finger.
“Couldn’t he work with me at the smithy?” Dayn asked.
“No, Dayn,” Reiv said, “I do not have the strength in my hands to do that kind of work.”
“You could stoke the fire or—”
“I do not think that would be much of a job, Dayn,” Reiv said. “I admit to being skilled at starting fires, but I do not do well at staying out of them. Besides, I doubt Gair would need the both of us. I think I had better find something else to do.”
“Well,” Nannaven said, “something will turn up. It always does.” She rose, pushing her frail body from the stool. “Reiv, Jensa will keep an eye on you until I can make other arrangements for someone to watch you.”
Reiv’s face fell. “You do not trust me.”
“It is others I do not trust. The people of Pobu have not forgotten you were once Prince of Tearia and while some may sympathize with your plight, there are those who would try to do you harm.”
“I understand,” Reiv replied, but he wasn’t happy about it.
“Nannaven, when will we see Brina again,” Dayn asked.
“Oh,” Jensa said, “she gave me a message for you all. I saw her yesterday when she told me there was the possibility of your banishment and that I was to be on the lookout for you. Let’s see, she said to tell you she would try to rescue the lion, retrieve Alicine’s flowers, and secure Dayn’s bottoms, whatever that means.” She giggled at that, though she did not seem like the sort of girl who giggled.
Dayn blushed and tugged at his tunic.
The next several hours were somewhat uneventful. Alicine puttered with Nannaven in the herb garden, while Dayn sat at the table, cutting vegetables and visiting with Jensa, who seemed to have taken a great interest in him. Reiv, on the other hand, slept curled up on a mat in the corner, as was his usual custom when the problems of life invaded his mind. Sleep, which had become his only respite during the past year, proved to be no different today. But he arose in time for dinner, which Dayn proudly proclaimed at having had a hand in.
Afterward, they all lounged by the fire while Nannaven told them about herself and Pobu and the Shell Seekers. And there was much to tell. They learned that Nannaven was a great healer and humanitarian, much like the Spirit Keeper of Kirador. She lived alone, except when she was sheltering those in need, such as she was now. No one went homeless or hungry if Nannaven could help it. Pobu was crowded and dirty and poor, for the Jecta were forced to live off the leftovers of the Tearians and were placed under a great many restrictions. They were not allowed to own land, or gather for public meetings, or write, or sing, or carry weapons or hunting tools, although some simple utensils were allowed for cooking and gardening. There were horses, but not many, and even those were the ones considered too old or too ill for use by the Tearians. At one point Dayn asked what it was the smith actually did without horseshoes and hunting tools to forge. To his obvious disappointment he was told the smith fashioned mostly nails, eating utensils, hinges for doors, and tools for gardening.
Jensa, they learned, lived in another community, Meirla, with the others of her kind. Her village was nestled along a palm-treed beach that overlooked the ocean to the south of Pobu. The tales of the sea snakes and treacherous waters proved to be exciting, and Dayn asked Jensa question after question. She was only too happy to respond, delighted by his interest.
Dayn and Alicine listened with rapt attention as Nannaven and Jensa told them the way of things for the Jecta, but Reiv at times found himself mentally closing off their voices. A part of him hated hearing about the oppression his people imposed on others, while the other part of him struggled to justify it. But he never said a word in defense, nor interjected his opinions or excuses. These women had, after all, fed him and housed him, and he wasn’t totally without manners.
“Come, it’s getting late,” Nannaven said at last. “You all need to get some rest. I’m sure you have much sleep to catch up on.” She tottered over to a cupboard in the corner and removed three rather worn blankets and handed them to Dayn, Alicine, and Reiv. “You’ll sleep on the roof. There’s plenty of room there and the night air will be pleasant. But even better than that, you’ll sleep with a canopy of stars above you. A wondrous show, don’t you think?”
“Thank you, Nannaven, for your hospitality. And you too, Jensa,” Dayn said as he moved toward the ladder leading to the trap door above.
Jensa looked at him with surprise. “It was my pleasure, but you do not have much to thank me for, I think.”
“Yes we do,” Dayn insisted. “You saved us.”
“Saved you?” Her expression took on a look of curiosity as her gaze lingered on his face. Then she smiled. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and you’ll help me with breakfast?”
Dayn grinned and nodded his head in the affirmative.
* * * *
Nannaven and Jensa sat at the table, sipping tea and visiting quietly. “I don’t think the prince will do well here,” Jensa said.
“No,” Nannaven agreed. “But if he’s here, then he’s meant to be.”
“But what purpose could there be in it? He’s a Tearian of royal blood, son of a king who continues to oppress us.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Few will welcome him, Nannaven. I fear he’ll find little happiness here.”
“I doubt he had much happiness in Tearia either. Maybe he’s due some.”
“Well, he’ll get little sympathy from me. He’s had every opportunity for happiness. He was born a prince and given everything he could possibly want.”
Nannaven reached out and patted Jensa’s hand. “Tough words from a girl who wouldn’t kill a spider. Reiv didn’t pick his lot in life any more than the rest of us. Just remember, falls from high places hurt worse than falls from low ones.”
Jensa nodded. “I suppose. Well, he’s here now, so there’s not much we can do about it. How long do you need me to stay?”
“Just a few days, until we see what unfolds. I’ll send word to Torin that you’re staying a while to help me with things.”
“All right,” Jensa said. Then she smiled. “Dayn is sweet, isn’t he? He and Reiv are so different—like fire and light.”
Nannaven’s eyes shot to hers. “What did you say?”
“I said Reiv and Dayn are like fire and light; one red-haired and hot-tempered, the other with a goodness in him that shines like starlight.”
Nannaven’s gaze moved past Jensa to the fireplace beyond. “Fire and light,” she whispered.
Jensa glanced over her shoulder, then back to the Spirit Keeper who stared out as though in a daze. “What is it, Nannaven?”
The old woman’s attention returned to the table. “Nothing, dear. I was just thinking.” She rose and headed for the cabinet along the wall. “I have to go check on a patient. Won’t be long.”
She gathered up a f
ew potions and placed them in her bag, then exited the hut muttering to herself.
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Chapter 21: Blurred Perceptions
Nannaven allowed her guests to sleep later than she normally would have, even against the protests of Jensa, who seemed sincerely disappointed that Dayn was not up to help with breakfast. Eventually the three awoke, their faces puffy from almost too much sleep. They tended to their personal needs, ate their breakfast, and listened as plans were made for the day.
Nannaven, they learned, would escort Dayn to the smithy and deposit him into Gair’s care. She and Alicine would then continue on to make the morning rounds. Meanwhile, Reiv was to go with Jensa to make inquiries about employment. Dayn and Alicine reacted with excitement at the thought of seeing Pobu in a new light, while Reiv made numerous excuses in a transparent attempt to postpone the inevitable. Before long Jensa was simply walking out the door, demanding that he follow.
Dayn and Gair bonded immediately and, just as Nannaven had said, the day was spent mostly making hinges and assorted tools. Alicine and Nannaven wound their way through the city, tending the frail and those in need of medical attention. There was much illness and few with the skills to treat it. As planned, Jensa took Reiv to meet numerous merchants, hoping someone might have need of him. But he was rejected time after time, sometimes due to prejudice, but more often for fear of reprisal. Few dared risk the ire of those who would just as soon see the former Prince dead.
After several frustrating hours Reiv insisted they return home, complaining that he felt ill and needed to lie down. It would have been the perfect ruse if it hadn’t been the truth. They went back to Nannaven’s where he did sleep, and when he awoke he trudged over to the table where Jensa was peeling potatoes. He helped her as best he could, but found working the small knife awkward and ended up cutting more potato than peel. Afterwards, he dusted and swept the floor and cleaned some dishes. But he found it humiliating. It was as if he were a housemaid.
On the evening of the third day, Reiv, still unemployed and growing more frustrated by the minute, found himself alone in the hut with Jensa once more. Dayn had stayed late at the smithy to work with Gair on a surprisingly large job, while Alicine and Nannaven had been kept longer than expected caring for a woman in labor. Jensa sat by the window, working on a bit of mending before the light grew too dim. Reiv paced the room, cursing his own worthlessness. He could not help with the mending, nor could he repair the mats or peel the potatoes waiting to be peeled. For that matter, there was little of value he could do.
Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light Page 26
