by J D Abbas
The two wove their way through the noise and bustling activity of the bailey, which increased as more men poured from the keep, eager to greet the visitors.
“A company from Dussendor arrived yesterday, and some troubling events occurred just before you showed up. Your timing could not have been more fortuitous.” Celdorn wrapped his arm around Zarandiel. “I could use your broad shoulders about now.”
Celdorn glanced up at the window to Elena’s old room, and a shadow fell over his heart.
Chapter 39
While the others got settled, Celdorn returned to his room to address the situation with Elena. He called Silvandir and Mikaelin to follow him into Elbrion’s chamber. Elbrion was already there waiting with Haldor and Elena, who was curled in a chair by the fire, shivering. Haldor sat next to her, singing softly and covering her with light. Sasha’s head rested on the girl’s legs. Her ears perked up when the men entered, but she never took her eyes off Elena.
Celdorn motioned for Silvandir and Mikaelin to sit by the table, on the far side of the room from the girl. Silvandir slumped in his chair, staring at the floor, unwilling to look at Celdorn. Mikaelin stole worried glances at Elena.
“Mikaelin, I assume Silvandir has told you about what happened to Elena.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Silvandir claims he was in the courtyard during the time she was assaulted.”
“That’s true, Celdorn. He was with me.”
“Was there a time you could not see him? Did you separate when you returned to the keep?”
“No, sir,” Mikaelin replied. “He was with me from the time we left this room until we entered the meeting late. You told us not to go outside alone, so we never separated.”
Celdorn studied Mikaelin, his heart torn and troubled. “Would you lie to protect your friend?”
Mikaelin glanced at Silvandir before answering. “Silvandir may be my friend, but I also care deeply for Elena. I wouldn’t lie to protect someone who violated her, not even my dearest friend. There must be another explanation.”
Haldor abruptly stopped singing. He laid a reassuring hand on Elena’s arm as he turned troubled eyes to the far side of the room, listening.
Elbrion approached Silvandir. “May I look into your mind?”
Silvandir straightened and met Elbrion’s gaze, deep hurt evident in his eyes. “Yes, if that will help you believe me. I have nothing to hide.”
“I want you to concentrate on what you did after you left my room earlier,” Elbrion said. He placed his hands on the sides of Silvandir’s head. After a few minutes, Elbrion shook his head, brow furrowed. “He is telling the truth. But how is that possible?”
Celdorn was quiet for some time. Finally, he walked over and knelt in front of Elena. “Little one, are you certain it was Silvandir who hurt you?”
Elena lay curled in her chair as if she had folded in on herself. She didn’t lift her head when she answered. “The man looked like him. He sounded like him. He even… smelled like him.”
“Elena, please, I would never hurt you,” Silvandir called across the room.
The girl cringed. “That’s what he said in the room,” she whispered. “Those very words.” Tears slid from her eyes again. “Please believe me, Ada. I’m not lying.”
“No one is accusing you of lying, little one,” Celdorn assured her, “but we have two realities that are in opposition.” He paused to consider. “Do you remember anything else he said or did? Anything that seemed strange?”
Elena stared into the fire, her eyes darting back and forth. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” After a minute of silence, she finally whispered, “Rakshad. He said, ‘rakshad’.”
“What does that mean?” Celdorn asked. He looked at Haldor then Elbrion; both shook their heads.
“It means ‘stay.’” Elena’s voice was barely audible.
“In what language? That’s not Lanar.”
“Khradak,” she replied, looking at Celdorn with distress. “It’s the language Anakh’s people use.” Her tremors increased and she looked on the verge of shifting. “H-he said it to me when I started to go away.” Elena’s voice was taut, becoming more frantic with each word. “When they say it, you can’t shift. H-he forced me to stay… to make me feel him… entering me.” She whispered the last words as if afraid to speak them then hid her face in Sasha’s neck.
Silvandir groaned and put his head in his hands.
“Elena?” Celdorn lifted her face. “You’ve heard that word before?”
The girl’s eyes were now dark and glassy, unfocused. “Yes…”
“When, little one?”
“At the encampment… in the training.” Her chin shook. “I-I don’t know how I know that. How… how could he know that word, Ada?”
“Because it wasn’t me, Elena.” Silvandir rose and moved toward her. “Please believe me. I would never do that to you.” Elena curled into a ball as if about to be struck.
“Silvandir, be quiet,” Celdorn ordered. Elbrion grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back to his seat.
“Little one, is it possible that it was someone else in the guise of Silvandir?”
Elena’s eyes flitted from side to side. “I-I don’t know. He related to me just as Silvandir would.”
“Elena?” Elbrion let go of Silvandir, a puzzled look on his face. “Did he tell you to remain in the room when he left?”
“I don’t remember.”
Elbrion walked toward her. “Did you brace the door after he was gone?”
“No, I crawled under the bed and hid. After that I never moved, at least not that I recall.”
“How did the door get latched?”
Elena stared at him blankly. “I-I don’t know.”
Elbrion sat next to her. “May I enter your mind again?”
She gave a tiny nod, and he held her head for a few moments.
“Elena, Silvandir was gone when you crawled under the bed, and I do not see you moving again until the others found you,” Elbrion said. “The only time I see anything about the door was just after you first entered. I also do not see or hear Silvandir leaving, yet he was not there when we found you.”
“Who else could it have been? Who could so easily behave exactly like Silvandir? He would have to know his mind and heart.”
“He couldn’t have known my heart or my mind, for I would never have defiled you, Elena. It breaks my heart to even hear you speak the words,” Silvandir objected.
“But you said it was because you loved me, and you could hold back no longer.” Elena looked at him for the first time, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“And I do…” He glanced at Mikaelin as if needing his support. “I-I care for you, Elena, but I would never, never force you to be intimate with me. I wouldn’t betray you like that—or you, Celdorn, or Elbrion,” he said, looking at each in turn, desperate to be believed.
“The only way he could have done it is if I’m lying to protect him,” Mikaelin said. “And I wouldn’t betray you like that, Elena.”
“I’m so confused. Someone did this to me!” Her cries made Sasha sit up. “I’m not lying. It was real. It was real!” The dog started barking just before Elena’s fists flew, pounding at her own head.
Celdorn grabbed her wrists. “Don’t hurt yourself, little one. No one doubts you. We’re just trying to make sense of it,” he assured her. “There’s no question you were violated; the question is: was it Silvandir, or someone guised as him?”
Elena’s wild eyes peeked out from behind the mass of disheveled hair. Celdorn decided it was time to end this. “Will you allow Braiden to look at your injuries?”
She shook her head.
Celdorn pushed the hair out of her face. “We need to make certain there’s no serious damage that needs to be addressed. We don’t want to repeat what happened last time.”
Elena’s shoulders sagged. She stared at Celdorn from red-rimmed eyes. Exhausted and unable to fight any more, she gave a tiny nod of defeat.
Braiden entered a few minutes later, his face filled with questions. When Celdorn informed him about Elena, his hands immediately curled into fists as tears filled his eyes.
“I want you to examine her with your gift and see what damage there is and what you can do,” Celdorn said, sickened they had to repeat this whole process.
Braiden dipped his chin without a word.
Elbrion lifted Elena to the bed, closing the curtains so she would have privacy. He stopped Sasha from jumping onto the bed and ordered her to the far side of the room to wait with them.
~
Braiden approached slowly, cautiously, and pulled back the curtain, unsure what state Elena might be in. One look at her and his heart throbbed. She was curled on her side, sobbing.
“I-I’m so sorry, El-Elena.” He laid his hand on her forehead, and her body immediately told him where to find the injury. “C-can you roll onto your b-back?”
After he touched her, she became like a lifeless doll, unmoving, eyes deadened. It was clear she was not going to assist him. He unlaced her trousers, which elicited a shudder. “Y-you aren’t bleeding as h-heavily this time,” he said as he looked at the stains. When he propped her legs to examine her, they trembled like a newborn foal’s. She was nearly hysterical by the time he found the wounds, which were relatively minor compared to the last time.
Braiden felt the Jhadhela surge through him as he touched her torn flesh, instantly healing it. He covered her with the blanket. Watching her face, he said, “Elena, I-I feel the Jhadhela directing m-me to your heart. Is it… Would it be all-all right if I place my h-hand there?”
She gave him a feeble nod.
He gingerly laid his hand on her chest, not wanting to add to her trauma. He closed his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks as he listened to her body. He whispered words of healing, as the Jhadhela led. His arm tingled, increasing to a burn that moved from his shoulder into his hand. Elena’s chest shuddered with sobs.
“Stop! You’re making it worse.”
He didn’t remove his hand. “Y-your heart isn’t meant to h-hold onto this pain. L-let it go.” He kept his voice soft. “P-please, trust me.”
“No,” Elena pushed at his arm. “It’s killing me.”
Braiden yelped and jerked his arm back as it burst into brilliant orange flames from shoulder to fingertips. Then, just as abruptly, the fire disappeared. Braiden collapsed onto the bed, panting.
Elbrion moved toward him, but Braiden waved him back. “I’m f-fine.” He pulled up his sleeve and checked for burns. Though he found none, he rubbed his arm until the painful sensations subsided.
“I’m sorry, Braiden. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Elena sat up and dried her eyes. “I just couldn’t bear any more.”
“I-it’s all right, Elena. I-I was following the w-will of the Jhadhela and the c-cry of your heart. I-I didn’t intend to increase your p-pain, though I do b-believe ultimately it w-would have led to your h-healing.
“There’s a b-battle raging in you. P-part of you wants the h-healing—that part directed m-me to your heart, b-but part of you doesn’t trust m-me and believes I’m t-trying to end your life.” He gazed at her, choosing his words carefully. “Th-this assault has done d-damage of a different kind. It was m-more than an assault on your body, it was an-an attack on your hope. B-before you came here, you never d-dared embrace life or love, you never d-dared hope for s-something better. B-but among us you have, a-along with finding some m-measure of joy. This attack s-stomped on that newly formed hope and ch-chopped away at your fledgling trust. I-it was an attempt to d-destroy you at your very c-core.”
“My heart told you all that?” Elena stared up at him.
“Yes.” Braiden reached for her hand and held it between his. “I-I’m so sorry this h-happened to you again, m-my sister.” He gazed into her eyes, his own tears renewing. “Please, d-don’t hold this poison inside you. I-I’m convinced healing is still p-possible.”
“I want to believe you,” she whispered, clutching her heart with her other hand.
“Then d-do so.” He would do it for her if he could, but this power was in her hands alone. “Y-you have a strong will; y-you can choose the way of the Jhadhela, even in these d-dark moments. Ch-choose to believe me and not lose h-hope, even though it goes against a-all that is at war inside.”
Chapter 40
A knock on the antechamber door threw Elena from her seat. She dove to the floor next to Sasha and huddled behind Celdorn’s leg, gripping his calf.
“Be at peace, little one. It’s only a messenger.” Celdorn laid his hand on her head, the warmth so soothing.
Elena knew she looked pathetic, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her heart thundered in her chest, which was so tight she could barely breathe. She knew Silvandir—or the next person, whoever that might be—would come back to attack her. Nobody was safe anymore. Except Celdorn and Elbrion. Somehow she still trusted them.
They had been sitting with her since they came back from the bailey, excited about an Elrodanar master arriving in Kelach. Elbrion had been singing, and she’d almost decided she might like to meet another of his kind—until the knocking brought her back to the reality of Kelach filling up with more strangers.
“Enter,” Celdorn called across the room. Elena flinched at his loud voice, and Sasha licked her chin and nuzzled closer.
Haldor peeked through the partially opened door. “Yaelmargon and Zarandiel have arrived.” He glanced at Elena, bowed his head with a frown, and withdrew.
Tears immediately burned in her eyes. Surely Haldor was still trustworthy. He’d been a Yadar, a priest of the light, and he seemed so pure and kind. But then, she’d thought Silvandir had been too.
“Elena, we need to meet with the council in my chamber,” Celdorn said. “I don’t want you out of my sight, so you will need to sit by my side at the table.”
“No, Ada. I can’t. I don’t want to be seen.” She wrapped her arms around his leg as if that might stop him.
Elbrion sang again, his voice so soothing.
Celdorn leaned forward in his seat, so he could look her in the eye. “I understand that, little one, but it’s the only way I can fulfill my duties and watch over you. There’s no reason for you to hide. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“But Silvandir will be there.”
“We will keep him at the far end of the table. Silvandir is my castellan here at Kelach. He needs to be there, especially for this particular council.” Celdorn stroked Elena’s hair. “I know this will be difficult for you to hear, but he also has done nothing wrong, little one. In a strange way, this was an attack on him as well. He’s devastated.”
Elena looked away. “Do the others know?”
“Most don’t, but they will shortly.”
“You’re going to tell them with me there?” She stared up at him, horrified.
“Again, Elena, you’ve done nothing wrong; you don’t need to be ashamed. The shame belongs to the one who did this to you.”
“But you don’t understand, Celdorn. When you talk about it, I feel as if I’m being stripped naked in front of everyone, being exposed again.”
“I know that’s how you feel, but that’s not the truth. I’m asking you to be brave and hold your head high. I won’t allow the Zhekhum to win.” He clasped her shoulder. “Nor should you.”
She longed to have the strength and courage he called for, not wanting to disappoint him.
Elbrion laid his hand on her head. “Courage is facing what we fear, Sheya, not the absence of fear. One can be quite brave and show tremendous strength even when one’s heart and legs are trembling.” He knelt and gripped her arms to pull her straighter. “You have faced much worse than this. I have no doubt you are strong.”
Elena met his gaze. He believed in her. The thought overwhelmed her and made her heart throb. His certainty bolster
ed a new resolve. He was right: this was nothing compared to what she had already endured. Her fortress walls straightened, and she rose to her feet. “All right, Ada, I will do this, but I don’t want to shift in front of everyone. Please—” She caught herself; she couldn’t allow doubt to overwhelm her.
“We will protect you, Elena,” Celdorn assured her.
Like the other times? a cynical voice mocked. Sasha tipped her head, and her ears perked up as if she’d heard.
Elena hoped Elbrion hadn’t.
~
The men around the table rose when Celdorn entered. They were clearly surprised to see Elena following with Sasha flanking her on the left. She knew she looked awful. Her adai had allowed her time in the antechamber to wash her face and straighten her hair, but there wasn’t anything she could do about her puffy face and swollen, red-rimmed eyes.
As she walked behind Celdorn, she clung to the scruff at Sasha’s neck and focused on her ada’s boots, Elbrion only a step behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the men bowing slightly toward her as she passed.
When she came to Keymar, the young man from Dussendor, Elena felt his distress throughout her body. Something made her stop and look at him. Keymar hung his head, and Elena laid her hand on his forearm. “I’m so sorry for what happened to your brothers,” she whispered. “Your anger and distrust were more than justified. I bear you no ill will.”
Keymar swayed and collapsed to one knee. “Please forgive me, my lady.” He looked up at her with watery eyes, before gripping the hand that had reached out to him, which now hung mid-air.
Elena flinched, surprised by his sudden movement, and snatched her hand back, holding it against her body, stiff with fear. Sasha nudged closer, a low rumble moving through her chest. Elena gave Keymar an embarrassed smile and hurried on.
As she approached the head of the table, a tremor started in her heart and moved like a wave through her body. A brilliant light pulsed in front of her. When she looked up, her mouth gaped. The man before her could be none other than the master from Queyon. Though obviously Elrodanar and similar to Elbrion in his tall, slender form, his hair, skin and clothing were of an even purer white—a complete absence of all color. Yet somehow, he reflected a multitude of colors in every powerful pulsation that ran throughout his ancient, chiseled form, like lightning striking out repeatedly from within a marble statue. Someone, something, that belonged to the skies, not the earth. She collapsed at his feet, prostrate and quaking. Sasha lay beside her, licking her ear.
