The Strength to Serve (Echoes of Imara Book 3)

by Claire Frank

  “You’re late,” Mira said with a small smile while Daro paused in the entrance.

  “So I hear,” Daro said, keeping his voice low. “What’s been happening?”

  “The man in the middle does all the talking, but I can tell the rest of them understand what’s being said. Another man came in earlier, some kind of storyteller. He told of how the Imarans came to be here, and why. He spoke in Halthian and they all seemed quite concerned with making sure His Majesty understood every detail.”

  “Good,” Daro said. “He probably did a better job than I did when I explained the Imaran story to Rogan.”

  “I have to admit, it was beautiful. They make it easy to want to trust them.” Mira glanced up at the opening to the sky, as if expecting to find dangers lurking in the trees.

  “You can trust them, Mira,” Daro said.

  “Perhaps. Even still, I have a job to do.”

  Alastair glanced toward him, so Daro gave Mira a nod and stepped forward to the center of the room.

  Merefin stood and inclined his head as Daro approached. “Daro fe’Einar. It is good that you join us.”

  “Thank you, I….” He paused, unsure of what to say. Was there a proper response? “I’m glad to be here.”

  “Please, sit,” Merefin said, gesturing to an empty bench.

  Daro sat down and wiped his palms on his pants, feeling suddenly awkward. His clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them, and he felt out of place among these leaders.

  “The Raeswa have been telling us the history of Imara,” Rogan said. “It’s been quite instructive.”

  “We have,” Merefin said. “And Daro’s timing is favorable. Decisions must be made regarding those you have entrusted to us. Those you call altered Wielders.”

  “They pose a dilemma to Halthas,” Rogan said. “Although Balsam tells me they are no longer considered dangerous.”

  “This is truth,” Merefin said, “for most of them, at least. Of the five men in our care, two have been given the choice to return to Halthas. Two more will be given such a choice when they have mastered a higher degree of control.”

  “And the fifth man?” Rogan asked.

  “He is a matter that I expect you will attend to separately,” Merefin said. The other Raeswa looked on in silence, several of them nodding to each other.

  “Of course,” Rogan said. “That seems appropriate.”

  Merefin turned to Daro. “We would like to know what you think, when you have had an opportunity to see them. You have a different perspective on these men.”

  “I’m sure whatever you decide will be right,” Daro said. “But I am anxious to see Stoker and Shale again.”

  “Daro, I’m relying on your judgment as to what should be done about these men,” Rogan said.

  “Done about them?” Daro said. “They’re like me, Your Majesty. Simply men who were caught up in something beyond their control.”

  Rogan nodded slowly. “Which is why I’m trusting you with this. If you agree with our Imaran friends that we have nothing to fear from them, I see no reason why they can’t be readmitted to Halthas.”

  Merefin turned to Daro. “Balsam fe’Abrecan will return later. He can take you to see your countrymen.”

  “Thank you,” Daro said.

  The conversation turned to other matters, and Daro’s attention drifted. Occasionally Alastair or Rogan asked Daro a question, or for help clarifying a point, and he did his best to help. But the meeting was filled with diplomatic language and an odd sort of posturing that Daro found distasteful. He knew from experience that the Raeswa spoke plainly. It was the Imaran way. Rogan and Alastair appeared to expect them to hide meaning behind their words, asking numerous questions until Daro couldn’t be sure what they were talking about anymore. His head ached and his stomach rumbled as the day dragged on and he found himself staring up at the sky, wondering when they would finish.

  “Daro?”

  He started, realizing someone had been saying his name. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “The two altered Wielders, Stoker and Shale,” Merefin said. “Balsam can take you to see them.”

  Looking over his shoulder, he realized Balsam stood behind him. As Rogan and Merefin rose, Alastair and Daro followed suit.

  Daro offered a bow, first to Rogan, then to the Raeswa.

  “Thank you for offering your insight,” Merefin said.

  “Thank you for … having me,” Daro said, stumbling over his words. Cecily was better at these sorts of formalities than he was.

  “I believe our talks will resume after some refreshment,” Merefin said and gestured toward another entrance. The other Raeswa stood and allowed Rogan and Alastair to precede, following them past the rows of empty benches. Mira slipped by without a sound, ever her king’s shadow.

  “Come,” Balsam said, setting a hand on Daro’s shoulder. “I expect you will be wishing for a meal.”

  “I’m famished,” Daro said as they walked toward the hallway. “It was hard to stay awake in there.”

  Balsam laughed. “This I can help with. Your aewe is already with Leah at my dwelling, and we have prepared food.”

  “That’s some of the best news I’ve had all day,” Daro said.

  ***

  As Balsam opened the door to his dwelling, a burst of warm air wafted past, filling the hallway with the scent of food. Daro breathed it in as he entered and let his shoulders relax. Cecily sat next to Leah at the tall table, looking tiny next to Balsam’s wife. Glancing up from her conversation, she offered Daro a reassuring smile.

  “How was it?” she asked as he took a seat across from her.

  “It could have been worse,” Daro said with a shrug, taking a slice of flat bread from a basket and topping it with a piece of smoked fish. He closed his eyes as he took a bite, savoring the rich flavor. “This is amazing.”

  Leah smiled. She sat tall, resting her hand on the swell of her belly. “It makes me glad, that you enjoy this.”

  “You didn’t tell me that you and Ara are related,” Cecily said.

  “Related? We aren’t,” Daro said.

  Cecily tilted her head. “Leah tells me that Ara is your kin.”

  “No, in fact, she knew my father, before he met my mother. They were….” Daro paused, suddenly aware of the personal nature of Ara’s story and her past relationship with his father. “Well, they knew each other. Ara and I aren’t related, but we do share a bond of family.”

  “Yes, he uses the correct words,” Leah said, her Halthian speech not as smooth as Balsam’s. “This is why Ara. There is not mother. Sister? Is this word? Ara is now Daro’s family, like sister. She can share what you need to know.”

  Cecily nodded. “I understand.”

  Leah placed her hand over Cecily’s. “If this is not possible, I will explain. The way this is shared is with family; it is Ara’s place, and I do not wish to intrude. But I will not keep secrets from you.”

  Cecily’s face broke into a wide smile. “Thank you, Leah. This means so much to me.”

  Daro glanced between the two of them, his piece of bread hovering near his mouth. “What are you ladies talking about?”

  Cecily’s eyes darted to his, and she winked.

  “Cecily wishes for children,” Leah said, her tone matter-of-fact. “The Halthian way gives pleasure, but you must learn Imaran way. To welcome life as you couple.”

  Daro’s mouth dropped open and he felt his face flush. Swallowing hard, he glanced around the room for Balsam. “Where did Balsam go? He was just here.”

  “He goes to bring the others,” Leah said.

  “The others?” Cecily asked.

  “Of course, Shale and Stoker,” Daro said. “Rogan said he’s letting me decide what happens to them. The Raeswa say they are ready to go home.”

  “That’s good,” Cecily said.

  “It is, but I don’t know why they’re leaving anything up to me,” Daro said. In truth, he did understand why, but it didn’t increase his comfort in sho
uldering the responsibility. At least Stoker and Shale were men he knew. He had fought alongside them, and there was something that bonded men who had bled together. But what if Rogan asked him to pass judgment on the others? Dashal and Blur were altered Wielders who had been followers of Katalis, but had surrendered to the Imarans in Caerven. Despite having been held captive by Nihil with him, he hardly knew them.

  And what would happen to Pathius? Daro didn’t want to take on that responsibility.

  “Well, perhaps now Stoker and Shale can return to a normal life in Halthas,” Cecily said. “If you weren’t here to speak for them, who knows what would happen?”

  The door opened behind him and Daro glanced back, grateful for the break in the conversation. Balsam entered, followed by Shale and Stoker. Shale was thickly built and nearly as tall as Daro, with a thick beard and a bald head. Stoker was smaller and wiry, with a nose that seemed slightly too big for his face. Both men wore common Imaran garb: a wrap shirt and loose pants in muted shades of green and brown. Taking the last bite of his bread, Daro stood and brushed the crumbs from his hands.

  Shale gave him a broad smile as they shook hands. “It’s good to see you.”

  Daro swallowed quickly. “And you as well.” He noticed the warmth of Stoker’s hand as they shook.

  “Lady Cecily,” Shale said, touching his hand to his chest and offering a bow.

  Cecily walked around the table and greeted them both and Daro was relieved to see his wife remain relaxed. After Caerven, she’d been wary of Stoker and Shale, unsure if they still followed Pathius and meant to do her harm. But they’d shown their loyalty and willingness to do what was right, and it was good to see that their presence wasn’t alarming to Cecily.

  “You both look well,” Daro said as he looked over the two men. “How has your stay been?”

  “They’ve treated us well enough,” Shale said. “It hasn’t been easy, but I feel like we’re getting a handle on things.”

  “Quieter up here,” Stoker said, tapping his temple with a finger. “Easier to stay calm, too.”

  Daro was amazed at the changes in the two men. It had only been a few months since he’d last seen them, before they’d chosen to leave with Balsam and Ara in the hopes the Imarans could help them as they had helped Daro. It appeared they had met with success. The sense of wrongness Daro had felt from them was gone, their energy flowing in a much more natural way to Daro’s Imaran Sight. They held themselves with confidence, their demeanor relaxed, and the unnatural swirl of color in their eyes was nearly gone.

  “I can tell,” Daro said. “I’ve been told by the Raeswa that you’re being given the choice to return to Halthas. King Rogan says he’ll follow my judgment on the matter. What do you think? Are you ready to come home?”

  Shale took a deep breath. “For the first time in a long time, I feel like I might have a life again.”

  “After Nihil, I think we both felt like maybe we were destined to live outside the law,” Stoker said. “There didn’t seem to be a place for people like us, and the soldiers chasing us through the mountains didn’t help. But now, I wonder if a normal life might be in store.”

  Daro glanced at his wife. The small smile and the look in her eyes told him she understood what he wanted to say. “I don’t think we’ll be in Imara long,” Daro said. “When we leave, the two of you are welcome to come back with us.”

  Stoker opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again as Shale nodded. “We’d appreciate that,” Shale said. “Neither of us have much to return to.”

  “Forgive me if I shouldn’t ask, but do you remember much about where you came from?” Cecily said.

  “I didn’t for a long time,” Stoker said. “I still don’t remember much. I know I lived most of my life on the river, ferrying goods up and down between the towns. I have memories of other places, too, so I think I traveled a fair bit.”

  Shale let out a heavy sigh. “The remembering has been the hardest part, in a lot of ways. Nihil and Sindre did a damn fine job of erasing who we were, so it hasn’t been easy to find those men again. Before Nihil got his hands on me, I was a Stone Shaper, but I didn’t have enough ability for it to be of much use. I earned my living as a merchant guard. It kept me away from my family, but it put food on our table.”

  “Do you have a family to return to?” Cecily asked, her voice soft.

  “I might,” Shale said, “but when I say the remembering was difficult, that’s why. My wife was taken by Nihil’s men, same as me, though I don’t think she lived very long. We had a daughter. She’d be grown now.”

  “Oh, Shale, I’m so sorry,” Cecily said, and Daro could almost feel the other man’s grief.

  “I miss my wife, and I probably always will, but in a way I’m glad I miss her,” Shale said. “I buried things so deep, I lost a lot of who I was. The fact that I can miss her now makes me feel like a person again.”

  “What about your daughter?” Daro asked. “Would you like to find her?”

  Shale looked away. “I might, someday. I’d like to find out if she’s all right, but I feel like I need to be sure I’m okay first. I don’t know what she’d think of me now.”

  Daro pressed his lips together and patted Shale on the arm.

  “It has been a good thing for us, I think, to have these men here,” Balsam said. “It reminds us there are still things we do not know about Fedan’s gift. But come, there is much to celebrate, and the Imaran way is with food.”

  Daro’s mouth watered as Cecily returned to the cooking area and helped Leah bring platters to the table. He turned back to Stoker and Shale, keeping his voice low. “Have you seen Pathius?”

  Stoker and Shale shared a knowing look. “We see him now and then, but he keeps to himself a lot.”

  Daro nodded and the two men walked past him to take their seats at the table. Balsam put a hand on Daro’s arm and leaned in close. “If you have a need of speaking with Pathius, I can arrange for this.”

  Daro hesitated. Although he did wish to see how Pathius was faring, he knew he was walking a thin line with his wife. There was no real need for him to be involved, and meeting with Pathius might make Rogan put the decision as to Pathius’s fate on Daro’s shoulders. He’d given Pathius his chance; it was up to Pathius to decide what to do with it. “No,” he said. “I trust the king and the Raeswa to do what is right.”

  7. COMING OF AGE

  The days in Imara passed slowly, almost as if Cecily and Daro had stepped outside time. Cecily enjoyed walking the wide hallways and through the shadowy forest with Daro, in between his meetings with Rogan and Alastair. Daro seemed to do his best to put his reluctance aside, but she could sense his disquiet. It made her all the more enthusiastic when they had time to themselves to wander the pathways and open spaces, and she basked in Daro’s pleasure at showing her his homeland.

  At the moment, she walked in front of Stoker and Shale, her hand tucked in Daro’s arm, as Balsam led them through a corridor that sloped gently downward. Like everything in Imara, the walkways were large and open, well lit by the soft illumination of glowstones. Rogan and Alastair, followed by Mira, walked ahead of them, flanked by several other Imarans Cecily didn’t know. Balsam had said they were invited to witness some sort of celebration, but she wasn’t sure what to expect.

  “I don’t recognize this place,” Daro said. “Where are we?”

  “We will soon reach the Halls of Memory,” Balsam said. “It is a special thing you will witness tonight. It is so rare we have outsiders, this may be the first time any non-Imarans will see it.”

  “What are we going to see?” Cecily asked.

  “When young Imarans come of age, we must welcome them into adulthood,” Balsam said. “There is much preparation they must undergo in the preceding weeks, and it culminates tonight. All of Imara will be there to bear witness.”

  “So this is a ceremony?” she asked.

  “It is, but it is also a challenge, to see if they are prepared for their lives as
members of our people,” Balsam said.

  The hallway grew crowded as they went, more Imarans filling the corridor. They had to slow as they approached a high arching doorway, its doorframe carved with Imaran words. Cecily wished she could read it, but Balsam had moved ahead to walk with Alastair and Rogan.

  “Do you know what it says?” she asked as she turned to Daro.

  He paused and gazed at it. “I’m not positive, but I think it says, ‘To fulfill our purpose, we remember our past.’”

  They passed through the doorway and emerged into another wide corridor that branched off in both directions. The walls curved as they walked, and Cecily wondered if the entire thing made a large circle. The walls soared above their heads, filled with large panels of Imaran script.

  “This must be what Balsam meant by the Halls of Memory,” Cecily said. “Can you read what these say?”

  “I can’t read it well enough to understand all the words, but I think these are historical events,” Daro said.

  “I thought all the Imarans wrote their history in their homes,” Cecily said.

  “They do,” Daro said. “They record the story of Imar, and a history of their family. But this is different.”

  The crowd thinned as they walked, and they came to another doorway on the inner wall. It led to another circular hall, with the same high walls and panels filled with writing. They’d lost track of Balsam, as well as Stoker and Shale, so they wandered through, following the flow of people as they made their way toward another opening.

  The series of hallways felt like a massive circular maze, with doorways leading into additional curved foyers. Cecily found herself wishing she could stop and gaze at the writing on the walls; despite her not being able to decipher the language, there was an artistry to it that drew the eye. But the crowd moved onward, and she and Daro followed.