Kerrik grinned. “Oh, I will,” he said.
“You certainly have your brother’s and sister’s feisty temperaments.”
“Oh, Torin and Jensa are not my real brother and sister.”
“No?”
“No, my parents are Tearian, but they couldn’t keep me because of my foot.” He looked down at it and shrugged. “I don’t see why though. It doesn’t bother me at all, and I wouldn’t have been any trouble.”
For a moment Reiv’s heart went out to him, but then he realized the boy did not seem terribly upset by it, so he held off saying any words of sympathy. “What brought you to this place, then?”
“Brina saved me and then she took me to Nannaven and then she took me to Jensa and Torin.”
“Brina? Saved you?”
“Yes, she saves lots of babies,” Kerrik said matter-of-factly. Then he noticed the startled expression on Reiv’s face. “Didn’t you know that?”
“No. I did not.”
“Well, anyway, that’s why I want to slay Seirgotha and become a great healer. Because that way I can make people well and the babies, too, and then people won’t have to give them away. Then everyone will be happy and no one will be sick or sad anymore. That’s what I want more than anything!”
Reiv stared out silently toward the horizon, contemplating the boy’s noble words. For the first time in his life he felt a twinge of guilt at having ever been called Tearian.
Kerrik eyed him curiously. “Are you all right? You look funny.” Then he glanced in the direction of Reiv’s gaze. “It’s getting late. We’d better go home now. Jensa gets really mad if anyone’s late for dinner, and if you think Torin’s got a temper . . .”
Reiv pushed himself up. “Well, I certainly do not wish to meet that temper tonight.”
They trudged toward the village, or rather Reiv trudged while Kerrik hopped along. Reiv’s muscles were beginning to stiffen and his eyes and skin were starting to sting. By the time they reached the hut, his lids were swollen and his back had erupted in blisters.
Jensa gasped at the sight of him. “Gods, Kerrik, why didn’t you rub some kohl around his eyes,” she exclaimed.
“He wouldn’t let me,” the boy cried.
“And his back!” She walked around Reiv in a circle, eyeing him up and down. “We have lotions you could have put on him.”
“He said he was used to the sun,” Kerrik insisted. “He said his skin always looked white.”
Torin laughed from where he sat at the work bench. “Well, he’s not so white now,” he said, clearly enjoying the Prince’s discomfort.
Reiv went to contort his face with displeasure, but found it too painful to move. Jensa ordered him over to a stool, then pulled out a jar of salve and lathered him all over with it. He winced and groaned as she rubbed it across his swollen lids and tender back.
“I told you you’d regret it,” Kerrik mumbled.
“He’s going to get sun poisoning,” Jensa said.
She mixed up some water with a powdered herb and ordered Reiv to drink it. He complied, all the while insisting he was fine. But after he ate and laid down on his mat for the night, he was overtaken by chills and a deep, painful itch that tore at every inch of his flesh. He got no sleep at all, and neither did anyone else.
* * * *
In the weeks that followed Reiv became a much better swimmer. Though he was still not as adept as he needed to be, he had begun to dive to the deeper rocks. The first time he emerged with a shell, he strutted up and down the beach as though he had discovered a great jewel. Kerrik laughed and clapped and danced around him with glee. As the boy had said, there were indeed sea snakes. But Reiv learned to avoid dark crags in the rocks where they liked to hide and knew to move cautiously when near them. In time he grew accustomed to the snakes as well as to the multitude of other sea animals that shared the waters, just as his skin grew accustomed to the sun, and his eyes to the salt water.
He also became more comfortable with wearing kohl, not only because it did indeed protect his eyes from the glare, but also because he noticed the girls in the village paid him more attention with the kohl than without. The black smudged around his eyes seemed to accentuate the rare and beautiful color of them, and Jensa, convinced his eyes were his best feature, began to experiment with marking the kohl around them in various patterns. He allowed her to do so, mainly because all the other boys his age had some signature design on their faces. Before long Jensa settled on a pattern that was unique. Reiv tested the waters, so to speak, by strolling casually through the village, intent on seeing what reaction he might get to Jensa’s artwork. Much to his delight, many a feminine head turned and smiled in his direction. Thereafter, he was never without his kohl.
By the third week he seemed to have become more accepted by the villagers, though the young women had warmed up to him much more quickly than the men. Torin was still cool toward him and avoided confrontations only by avoiding him altogether. Jensa, on the other hand, invited Reiv to accompany her whenever possible and introduced him to many female Shell Seekers. After a while he became suspicious and joked that she was trying to get rid of him by marrying him off to the first girl that came along. She responded to his jests with denials, but the sly grin on her lips told him he wasn’t too far off.
Torin went to Pobu two days out of every week, but rarely came home with anything other than news. When he returned, he always reported to Jensa, speaking directly to her whether the news concerned Reiv or not. But this week Torin had not made his usual trip—Market was but two days away—and a Jecta messenger had come seeking him out.
Reiv stood at the flap of the hut, watching Torin and the messenger across the way. Even in the distance, it was clear the conversation was an emotional one. Torin turned and suddenly stormed toward the hut, sending a lump of dread Reiv’s way. Torin shoved past, screaming Reiv and Kerrik out with such fury, neither of them dared protest.
They hustled out and away from the hut. Kerrik didn’t seem particularly surprised by it, but Reiv was deeply concerned. He had seen Torin angry many times, usually at him, but this time it was different, though Reiv was sure he played a role in it somewhere.
He and Kerrik took themselves to the beach to do some seeking while they waited. Reiv found himself mostly pacing the sand, his mind playing possible worst-case scenarios. After some time they headed back, and there they met Torin rushing from the hut, glaring more heatedly in Reiv’s direction than usual.
“What was that about?” Reiv asked as he entered and set his nearly empty bag of shells on the table. Kerrik tossed his bag down also, then grabbed a handful of nuts and dashed out to play.
“Don’t stay out long, Kerrik,” Jensa called after him. “It will be dark soon.” She made her way over to the table and emptied the bags, then raked through the shells, sorting them by color and size.
“That one is particularly good,” Reiv said, motioning to a bright orange shell with swirls of iridescent blue. But his eyes were on Jensa, not the shell.
“Yes, it’s very nice,” she said.
Reiv moved to her side. “What is wrong, Jensa? Tell me.”
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
“You are not a very good liar,” he said.
She turned her face away. “A friend of ours was killed yesterday. By the Guard.” A sob escaped her throat.
Reiv was startled by Jensa’s sudden display of emotion. She had always been so brave, so stoic. “Who was it?” he asked, rounding to face her.
“Eben. You didn’t know him. He was a good man, a potter with a wife and three children.”
“But why? What did he do?”
“The Guard wanted information. Word in Pobu is that Eben found something of value, though no one knows what. The guards took him and questioned him. When he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell them what they wanted to know, they decided to make an example of him. His body was found by his wife on their own doorstep.”
Reiv took the shells from her shaking hands an
d ushered her to the bench. He filled a mug with cool tea and a pinch of lavender and handed it to her. “Here. Drink. It won’t take away the grief, but it may calm your nerves.”
She drank the tea down, then handed back the mug. “Thank you. I’ll be all right. But Torin . . .” Her gaze drifted out the door. “His heart is more fragile than you know, Reiv.” She sighed. “Well, there is some good news. About Dayn and Alicine. Would you like to hear it?”
Reiv felt his heart leap. He nodded and sat on the mat before her, eager for the update.
“It seems your cousin is doing so well at the smithy that Gair has decided to expand the business. Dayn’s actually teaching Gair a thing or two about metal work. They’ve recently taken on a particularly big job, so it’s just a matter of time before the two of them are rolling in the coin.”
Reiv could not help but grin.
“And Alicine . . .” She paused.
Reiv’s eyes lit up.
“Well, let’s just say you won’t have to worry about her leaving Pobu anymore. She has found herself a beau and decided to stay forever.”
Reiv’s face fell. “She what?”
Jensa tilted her head back and laughed. Though it did Reiv good to see her momentarily cheerful, he could not share in her amusement.
“Aren’t you happy?” she asked.
“About what?” he grumbled.
“Oh, Reiv. You are so transparent. I was only joking. How can Alicine have found a beau when she’s still pining for you.”
“Pining for me? Do not be ridiculous.” But he could no longer bear the suspense. “Do you think she is? Really?”
“Of course. I hear her transparency is as obvious as yours.” She rose and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for the laugh, Reiv. It felt good.”
“You are welcome. Any time you feel the need to torture me with your humor, feel free.” He was only jesting, but for the first time he realized any torture would be welcome if it renewed his hopes with Alicine.
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Chapter 23: Promises to Keep
The day before Market had finally arrived, and the Shell Seekers were slowly making their way up the road leading from Meirla. Reiv found himself strangely thrilled at the thought of returning to Pobu, and at times wanted to leap for joy at the thought of it. He forced restraint, but it was obvious from his unusually happy mood that his reunion with Dayn and Alicine could not come soon enough.
He ducked into the hut one last time and paused to check himself in the reflective plate. That morning he had bathed and styled his hair, braiding it with long strands of white cockles that wound between the red. The kohl around his eyes was painted most meticulously, and his faded tunic was accessorized with numerous strands of colorful shells. He had worked particularly hard to make himself look attractive for Alicine. Maybe his hands were no longer beautiful, but that didn’t mean the rest of him couldn’t be.
He reached into the small, carved box that contained what few coins and trinkets he owned and pulled out a shell bracelet. Holding it up in the light from the doorway, he admired its swirls of pastel pink and iridescent gray. Only the finest shells had been selected for it, and he’d struggled for days trying to thread the tiny things together. He was clumsy in his first attempts at craftsmanship, but Kerrik had helped him, almost to the point of doing it himself. Reiv, however, had been in charge of the project, watching over the boy’s shoulder as he directed the order in which the shells should be strung and which direction they should face. As Reiv admired the bracelet now draped over his fingers, he could not help but beam. It was the first thing he had ever made, well almost, and he hoped Alicine would like it.
He tucked the bracelet, along with a few coins, into his coin pouch, then rushed out of the hut to join the band now making its way up the road. He caught up with Jensa and Kerrik quickly, and glanced over at Torin who was pulling their cart of supplies. Even he, Reiv noticed, looked particularly well-groomed today. But Torin was not one to socialize with girls, at least not that Reiv was aware of, even though the man possessed above-average looks. Reiv assumed it was because he always had a sour expression on his face and a personality to match.
Kerrik hopped alongside Reiv, babbling about something or another, but Reiv didn’t pay much attention. He was too busy rehearsing in his mind what he would say when he saw Dayn and Alicine. He thought he might start with an apology, a thousand apologies if that was what it took. Hopefully his pride would not get in the way, although it likely would. But he had to convince Alicine and Dayn that he had changed, that he was a better person than he’d ever been. Surely he could make them understand that his departure had been for the best. Dayn would probably accept it, but Alicine? She had a stubborn streak in her, even worse than his own. He could only hope that she would realize he was more suited as a Shell Seeker. Maybe she would even agree to come back to Meirla with him. Now that he was employed, they could have a future together. He would build them a hut—the biggest one in the village—and he would hunt for shells to sell. Then they would have coin to buy things, and could start a family. Yes, he finally had something to offer her, his heart as well as a lifetime of security. His chest swelled with determination. He was somebody now, and there was nothing short of an act of the gods that could stop him.
* * * *
Dayn held up the dirk, examining it in the dim light of the shop’s back room. The glow from the forge danced along the blade, giving the illusion of flames trapped within the metal. He held it out, noting the straight line of the blade, then tightened his grip on the handle he had so meticulously crafted. During the past few weeks he had made dozens of weapons in this back room, illegal weapons for insurgents who meant to make things right for the Jecta. Most of the weapons were crudely fashioned, there was little time for fine craftsmanship, but this one wasn’t for an insurgent; it was a gift for Reiv. And it had to be perfect.
“Dayn!” Alicine screeched at him from the doorway.
Dayn jumped, his heart pounding. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, trying to regain his composure.
“What am I doing here?” Alicine cried. “God, Dayn, what are you doing here?”
“Lower your voice and close the door! Are you trying to get us both arrested?”
Alicine did as instructed, then stormed toward him from across the room. She tossed a bundle onto a nearby work bench and eyed the dirk. “Do you know what kind of trouble you could get in having a weapon like that? Where did you get it?”
“I made it,” he said, grinning. “What do you think of it?”
“Made it? Is that what you’ve been doing here all these weeks?”
Dayn moved to a crate across the way. Inside, an assortment of knives and short swords lay barely concealed beneath a tumble of oily rags. He rearranged the rags, then closed the lid.
Alicine stared wide-eyed at the crate. “It’s a good thing I stopped by to bring you lunch, otherwise I wouldn’t have known you’d gone completely mad. You’ll stop this immediately, Dayn,” she said.
Dayn marched over to put up his tools. “I don’t have to take orders from you. They need my help and I’m going to give it.”
Alicine followed him over, flustered by her brother’s unusually defiant tone. “I’ll not stand by and let you get involved in this,” she said.
“I don’t think there’s much you can do about it.”
“Oh, really? Well, I think there is something I can do about it.”
“Like what?”
“I’ll tell Nannaven.”
“She already knows.”
“Then I’ll tell Jensa and Torin.”
“They know, too.”
“God, Dayn, who doesn’t know?”
“Reiv. And I’m telling him today when he gets here.” He wrapped the dirk in a ragged swath of cloth and placed it inside a leather satchel.
“Reiv. Humph! I doubt he’ll even show up.”
“Why do you say that?” Dayn said. “You heard
him. He said he’d be back for Market.” He swung the strap of the satchel over his shoulder.
“Since when does he tell the truth. Besides, he’s been gone for almost a month now. I’m sure he’s settled in just fine with Jensa and has no more need of us.”
“He didn’t go to be with Jensa. He went to make something of himself.”
Alicine laughed. “Oh, sure. Like he didn’t notice how beautiful she was.”
Dayn’s eyes flashed. “Enough, Alicine. I won’t listen to any more of this.” He made for the door. Alicine followed.
“Well, you will listen!” she said as she hustled to his side. “There is no longer any reason for us to stay here. Brina has not been to see us in weeks and neither has Reiv. You promised you would take me home and I expect you to live up to that promise. I’ll not stay another minute in a place where my brother could be executed for sheer stupidity.”
Gair looked up from his anvil as Dayn and Alicine marched past him through the main room of the shop. “Leaving so soon?” he asked.
“Reiv’s coming today, remember?” Dayn said.
“Ah, yes, that he is,” Gair replied.
“And you!” Alicine cried, stopping and pointing a shaky finger in Gair’s direction.
“What did I do?” Gair asked.
“Why’d you let her in?” Dayn growled over his shoulder. “You should have known she’d bring me nothing but grief.”
“Thought it was time she knew, that’s all,” Gair said to Dayn’s retreating back. “Couldn’t wait forever for you to tell her, now could I?”
“Fine,” Dayn said as he stormed out the door.
Alicine caught up and rounded on him, bringing him to a halt. “I’m serious Dayn. You’ve carried this too far! We are leaving for home. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dayn said. “And lower your voice. Do you want everyone hearing our business?”
“I don’t care who hears it!”
Dayn yanked her by an elbow into a nearby alcove. “Listen, Alicine,” he said in a hushed voice. “Reiv’s coming today and then you’ll feel differently about things.”
Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light Page 30
