Lord of the White Hell Book One lotwh-1

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Lord of the White Hell Book One lotwh-1 Page 12

by Ginn Hale


  From Javier's scowl Kiram knew he'd made a poor decision and even Scholar Donamillo shook his head, as if nothing good could come of a private session with Master Ignacio.

  He had not feigned sickness again. Instead he got through the next week of battle practice by focusing on his technique. He met Javier's gaze as little as possible and took care not to stand close when they weren't training. Up in their shared room during the evening hours, Kiram found himself staring at Javier and obsessively brooding on the memory of his touch. Every time Javier glanced up from reading, Kiram felt the blood rise in his face.

  If he stayed here, he was going to make a fool of himself, or worse, endanger his entire future. He had to distract himself from Javier's effortless temptations.

  He spent the next two weeks in self-imposed exile in his work shed assembling his Crown Challenge mechanism. Each night he wandered back to the dormitory exhausted and simply dropped down to his mattress, still reeking of gear oil and ash. Twice he missed curfew while struggling with the proportions of his steam chambers. The night warden dragged him up to his room and threatened to report him if it happened a third time before slamming the door and leaving him fumbling toward his bed in the dark.

  "Only an idiot would get himself caned for a mechanism." Javier's voice floated through the stillness.

  "I'm not an idiot," Kiram assured him.

  "Then don't act like one." Javier sounded petulant and Kiram wished he could see his expression. "Ybu don't have to hide from me. I'm not going to attack you."

  "I know." Kiram pressed his face into his pillow. "But who's to say I won't assault you?"

  Javier's soft laugh was the last thing Kiram remembered before he fell asleep.

  The next afternoon Javier and most of the other Hellions went riding with Master Ignacio. Kiram knew he had no right to resent the excursion, and yet he did. He decided a walk would do him good. He chose the path through the orchard.

  The crisp autumn air was colder than the more southerly climate Kiram was used to. Many of the apples in the orchard were turning gold and red. They reminded Kiram of the sunset skies over Anacleto. It had been a long while since he had simply walked among the trees and felt the ground beneath his feet. He was half tempted to pull off his boots as he would have in one of the sacred groves at home, but he wasn't among Haldiim and any Cadeleonians coming across him would probably think he was suffering from a brain fever.

  Kiram contented himself to walk along the white pebble path that cut through the orchard and curled around the chapel. He listened to the songs of birds and crickets and tried not to feel homesick. He'd chosen to come to the academy, knowing that it would be strange and challenging, he reminded himself. This was what he wanted-what he needed to do, if he was going to prove himself.

  Distantly he heard the gurgle of the stream and the voices of first-year students splashing through the cold water. As he wandered, the apple trees thinned to stands of white birch and oaks. Sprays of wildflowers and brambleberry bushes spread between the trees.

  Then he came across a delicate, wrought iron fence and beyond this a wide field of red clover and gravestones. The two graves nearest Kiram were engraved with doves and the words Loyal and Faithful. Kiram couldn't help but think that the words seemed more appropriate to pets than to people. A third grave was inscribed with a Cadeleonian woman's name and the designation of Academy Cook. Kiram wasn't sure if the dates below represented her lifespan or the duration of her employment.

  A loud peal of laughter drew Kiram's attention farther down the neat rows of graves. A lean young man dressed in the academy blue crouched on the mound of a grave. His black hair hung over his eyes and he shoved it back brusquely.

  For an instant Kiram thought it was Javier and he was unreasonably glad to see him. But as soon as the thought came to him he discounted it. Javier never laughed like that. It had to be Fedeles.

  As if to confirm Kiram's thought, the young man broke into wide grin and crowed out the names of several horses. Then he swung up a silver trowel and plunged it into the earthen mound of the grave. He hurled up a spray of dirt and mangled clover.

  Alarm shot through Kiram as he realized that Fedeles was digging up a grave, desecrating the dead.

  "Fedeles! You can't dig there."

  Fedeles glanced briefly to Kiram but then returned to his work as if utterly unaware that he was breaking common Cadeleonian law. Kiram raced across the field, jumping over the low mounds where bodies lay. He reached Fedeles quickly but not before Fedeles had opened two large holes directly beneath the headstone. There were flowers all around Fedeles' feet. Most of them looked as if they had been recently ripped from the ground. Their roots still gripped dark clods of dirt. The name on the headstone was Victaro Irdad, the groom who had died the previous year.

  "Firaj," Fedeles sang out to Kiram.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Flowers," Fedeles cooed and he stroked the head stone with a muddy hand. "Flowers for Victo. He won't see them but I brought them. I brought them." Fedeles' expression went slack and he leaned against the headstone allowing the trowel to fall aside.

  Kiram remembered Nestor telling him that a groom had been torn to pieces. Secretly, everyone blamed Javier but no one had seen it happen. When Nestor had first told him the story, Kiram had simply accepted that Javier was responsible, but now he had seen how well Javier could restrain himself and the white hell. He couldn't believe that Javier had killed the groom, not even by accident.

  But it unnerved him to think that someone had and that no one at the academy spoke of it.

  "Was Victo a friend of yours?" Kiram asked Fedeles gently.

  Fedeles dug into his jacket pocket and brought out a small wooden figurine of a horse. It fit in Fedeles's palm.

  "Lunaluz," Fedeles said quietly. "I made it for Victo but he's gone now."

  "You carved this?"

  "Haldiim murdered him," Fedeles whispered the words through his gritted teeth.

  "What?" Kiram couldn't quite believe what he thought Fedeles had said.

  Fedeles' expression jerked again and for a moment he seemed unsure of where he was.

  "I brought flowers for Victo." He turned away from Kiram and quickly gathered the uprooted flowers. He pushed them into the holes he had dug so that their roots were sticking up, exposed to the air and the blossoms were down in the dirt. "Victo can see them now."

  "Fedeles," Kiram watched him closely, "you said something about Haldiim just now. What was it?"

  Fedeles shook his head as if dismissing Kiram's question completely. He lay down on top of the grave and nestled his face into the red clover and earth. "I want to go."

  "You should." Kiram straightened. "We both should."

  "No," Fedeles replied. "I want to go down there. I want to tell him, I didn't mean it."

  "You didn't mean what?"

  "It's a secret." Fedeles rolled onto his side and gazed at Kiram. For a moment he looked calm, almost at ease. Kiram was always surprised by how strongly Fedeles resembled Javier when his features weren't contorted with grins and grimaces. The two of them could have easily passed for brothers.

  "I shouldn't have told him." Fedeles closed his eyes and lay still.

  "We can't stay here," Kiram said at last.

  Fedeles opened his eyes and smiled as if he were only half-awake.

  "Firaj." Fedeles patted the ground, inviting Kiram to sit down beside him.

  In other circumstances, Kiram might have sat down with Fedeles and attempted to make some sense of his words. But today he had no desire to linger in a graveyard or risk being accused of disturbing the Cadeleonian dead.

  He turned away.

  "I'm leaving whether you come or not," Kiram called over his shoulder. He heard Fedeles scramble to his feet. By the time Kiram had reached the fence, Fedeles had fallen in alongside him. He gently nudged Kiram's elbow to get his attention.

  "What?" Kiram tried not to sound annoyed but he wasn't sure he succeeded.
/>   "Look." Fedeles stepped off the path and pushed aside the thick mass of wild grasses at the base of a tree. Kiram was surprised to see a small horse carved into the tree trunk.

  It wasn't just a simple outline cut into the bark, but a delicate bas-relief, like something that he would have expected in a temple.

  "That's really well done, Fedeles." Kiram looked at him. "Did you do it?"

  "Yes." Fedeles grinned, looking genuinely pleased.

  As they walked back to the academy Fedeles pointed out other carvings of his. All of them were small and hidden from casual sight. But they were each masterfully formed and not all of them were horses. Dogs and birds as well as a few tiny human figures peered down from the branches of trees and peeped out from knotholes.

  Kiram smiled at one man who was clearly picking his nose.

  "Does anyone else know about these?" Kiram asked. He thought Nestor would love them. Fedeles shook his head.

  "It's a secret." Fedeles suddenly lowered his voice. "Keep secrets or you get killed."

  Kiram frowned and would have asked why but Fedeles didn't give him the chance. He let out a gleeful howl and raced towards the dormitory where clusters of first-year students were lounging. The boys looked up at Fedeles and then scattered apart. They laughed and shrieked excitedly as Fedeles chased them around the grounds in a game of tag.

  Forgotten by even Fedeles, Kiram slunk away to find Nestor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kiram found Nestor in the library, drawing as always, and settled down into a chair opposite him.

  "Something bothering you?" Nestor asked.

  Kiram nodded but didn't know exactly how to approach it. His encounter with Fedeles had been strange and troubling. To his relief Nestor didn't prod him. He waited patiently while Kiram gathered his thoughts.

  "Can I ask you about Fedeles?" Kiram asked at last.

  "What about him?"

  "Is he." Kiram paused, weighing his words carefully. "Could he hurt someone?"

  "On purpose?" Nestor raised his brows, as he met Kiram's gaze. "No. Never. He's simple and a little lost, but he couldn't harm a living soul. That's not in him, never has been, not even when he was.well. If you could have seen him before, you'd know. He was always speaking up for me -or anyone-when Javier and Elezar got too rough." Nestor shook his head sadly. "He was great fun. Everyone loved him."

  "But he's not the same now."

  "No, he's not. But under all that madness, he's still Fedeles. You can see it when he's with the horses and when he plays with the other boys. He's just not mean."

  Kiram picked up a book that another student had left on the table; a slim volume of Bishop Seferino's musings. He still had not found the book that Javier had told him about, Concerning Ardor. Instead Kiram read through On the Nature of Vice and Virtue.

  "Why do you ask?"

  "He was putting flowers on that murdered groom's grave and saying…things."

  "They were friends, up until.you know," Nestor said.

  "Until the groom was murdered," Kiram responded. "Why doesn't anyone seem to care about that?"

  Nestor flushed slightly.

  "You can't tell Javier that I told you about this, all right?" Nestor leaned across the table, dropping his voice to the softest murmur.

  "Told me what?" Kiram too lowered his voice.

  "Victaro was too.friendly with Fedeles." The flush coloring Nestor's cheeks darkened to scarlet and he lowered his gaze down to his hands. "There were rumors that he took advantage of Fedeles' innocence."

  "You mean he raped-"

  The alarm in Nestor's face silenced Kiram.

  "I'm just saying that there might have been a good reason for Javier to do what he did, but talking about it would only humiliate Fedeles. Do you understand?"

  Kiram nodded slowly. It was all so very Cadeleonian and Kiram wasn't sure he believed it in any case. Fedeles had clearly stated that murdering Haldiim had killed the groom. And why would he be placing flowers on the grave of a man who violated him?

  But Kiram knew it would be no good to press Nestor further. Instead, he nodded to the papers tucked into the textbook at Nestor's elbow. "How's your math assignment coming along?"

  "Very slowly," Nestor confessed.

  "Can I help?"

  "You know you can." For the next hour Nestor labored over his mathematics and Kiram offered explanations and answers. Later, when Kiram finally found an opportunity to ask Nestor if he had ever noticed any carvings in the trees near the stream, Nestor said, "They're devils that come out of the trees at night. Everybody knows that."

  "I didn't."

  "Well now you do." Nestor finished his class work and stretched in his chair. He studied Kiram for a moment, absently sketching him on a parchment, and then noted that neither of them fit into their clothes so well any more. Kiram had to agree. Nestor had lost enough weight to require several tucks in the waist of his trousers. Kiram's shirts were tight across his shoulders. "You're going to end up bigger than Elezar."

  "I doubt it, but you just might," Kiram replied.

  "He did have to lend me a couple of his shirts," Nestor said and Kiram could see that he was pleased to be favorably compared to his older brother. "You know, my arms are getting bigger." Nestor flexed his bicep.

  "Did Elezar have the shirts washed before he gave them to you?" Kiram asked, as casually as he could. "Or have you stopped taking baths?"

  Nestor flushed bright pink as only a pale Cadeleonian could. "I washed yesterday-no two days ago, but it's not that bad…Is it?"

  "It's a little bad."

  Nestor sighed. "Well, I suppose I ought to go wash before bed. Otherwise the stench might kill Upperclassman Atreau."

  While Nestor retired to the second floor dormitory, Kiram remained in the library, skimming through the Bishop Sefarino's cautious contemplation of ardor. The numerous floral and gastronomic euphemisms the bishop employed to avoid any reference to actual copulation, while still expounding upon the pleasures of 'that most physical act' struck Kiram as funny and kept him reading. This was exactly the sort of book Javier would like. He wondered if he should bring it up to their room. It wouldn't be long before last bell.

  At last, he closed the book and stretched. Then suddenly he realized that Javier was there. Javier leaned against the doorframe and watched him. Kiram felt stupidly happy to see him.

  He said, "I was just reading this book-"

  Then Elezar and Atreau rushed up. Elezar grabbed Javier around the neck, playfully throttling him and Javier had to turn away to fight him off. Atreau lounged against the wall, yawning and occasionally critiquing Elezar's style.

  Kiram felt a surge of annoyance. Elezar was always like this after Master Ignacio took the Hellions out riding. Elezar wouldn't stop grappling with Javier until the night warden called for lights out. Leaving the book behind, Kiram waited until the two of them lurched clear of the door and then slunk out of the library and up to the tower room where he gladly embraced the oblivion of sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That night something terrible haunted Kiram's dreams. Above him, dark shadows crawled across the ceiling like seeping tar. Droplets struck Kiram's face, spattering his mouth and eyes. He tried to move away only to find himself sinking deeper into an engulfing black. The harder he struggled, the deeper he sank until oily fingers curled over his face and dragged him into a suffocating cold.

  He jerked upright and nearly collided with Javier, who knelt at his bedside. Kiram couldn't be sure but he thought Javier looked worried.

  "What are you doing?" Still only half-awake Kiram blurted the words out in Haldiim.

  "Ybu called out for me," Javier spoke the Haldiim words with a slight accent and Kiram stared at him, not sure if he'd heard correctly or if this was the lingering of his dream.

  "Was it bad?" Javier asked and this time his words were clearly Cadeleonian.

  "I was suffocating, I think." Kiram wiped his face, as if he could scrub his dazed confusion away
. "I can't really remember it now."

  "Probably for the best." Javier stroked his back once, lightly, and then stood. A thin shaft of moonlight briefly illuminated the naked expanse of his chest as he headed for his own bed. "We should get what sleep we can. The morning bell will be sounding soon enough."

  Kiram didn't think he could fall asleep again, and yet in a few moments he slipped back into another dream.

  Again a dark weight lay atop him, but this time it felt warm and living. The mass became flesh. Naked skin pressed against his own. Thick black hair fell across his face. Soon it became Javier's body thrusting down onto him, pinning him to the bed.

  Kiram woke up embarrassed, erect and alone. Javier had already left for his morning penance. Kiram spent most of the morning in a daze, trying not to think of Javier and yet unable to think of anything else.

  After lunch, Kiram was so distracted that he walked directly into Scholar Blasio. He apologized and offered to help carry a few of the books that he had dashed out of the Scholar Blasio's arms. Blasio accepted and made polite conversation as they walked to the mathematics lecture hall. When Kiram shelved the books incorrectly twice, Scholar Blasio inquired if something was wrong.

  "I'm just distracted," Kiram said quickly and this time he shelved both books properly.

  Scholar Blasio straightened a stack of papers that the first-year students had piled up on his desk. "How are things going for you with the other boys?"

  "Fine, I think." Kiram wasn't certain what Scholar Blasio meant.

  "It's just that you were forced into Javier Tornesal's company and he runs with a very, energetic crowd of young men." Scholar Blasio awkwardly flipped through the stack of papers teetering at the edge of the desk.

  "Upperclassman Javier has done well by me." Kiram shrugged. "Most of the Hellions have."

  "Yfes, but you're very different from them. You have such potential, and the Hellions have so little-" Scholar Blasio seemed to suddenly realize that he was deriding a duke and at least two noble heirs. "I mean, intellectually speaking. They aren't great thinkers, and Master Ignacio doesn't really encourage development in the academic realm-"

 

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