Fracture (The Chronicles Of Discord Book 1)

by D. D. Chant

  The room was cosy and warm. Sunshine flooded through the windows, illuminating the lad sitting at the table. Astra felt the door close behind her as Rem looked up. There was a cup and saucer on the table in front of him, and a large paper covered in writing. Astra stared at it in astonishment for some time before she realised that it was a newspaper.

  He was frowning as he looked at her, but his eyes had a faraway look in them, as though he were thinking about something he had just read. She bowed, placing her hand over her heart.

  “I trust you slept well, Sister?” His voice was stilted, and the hands that held the newspaper had tightened, creasing its smooth surface.

  “I did, thank you, Brother.”

  Astra took her seat at the small table, and waited quietly for Rem to address her again.

  Rem said nothing else.

  It seemed that he had exhausted his repertoire of pleasantries. As the silence stretched out, he smoothed the wrinkled pages of the news sheet.

  Astra was uncertain as well. She was used to Councillor Ladron’s company, to being as unseen and unheard as possible. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that Rem was waiting for her to make the next conversational gambit.

  “Did you sleep well?” she ventured.

  A knock sounded out and the door opened to admit a manservant carrying a large tray. He set out several dishes and removed their covers, bowing as he left the room.

  Rem made no move to speak until after he’d left.

  “I didn’t sleep very well.”

  Astra blinked as he returned the conversational ball abruptly back on her side of the court.

  Now what did she do?

  Rem absently selected food from the dishes in front of him. It was obvious that his mind was on other, less pleasant, things.

  Astra wanted him to forgive her, to make things better between them. Yet how could she convince the boy that she had disowned and shamed so publicly, that she was not the unfeeling woman he thought her to be? How did she explain that the safety of her foster-family had been more important to her than his honour?

  How did she and the stranger before her strike up the rapport of a brother and sister over a single breakfast?

  ------

  Why could he think of nothing to say?

  Rem had longed for his sister’s return, yet now he had no idea what to do.

  He felt his inadequacy strongly, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. She was his sister, he had missed her even when her very existence had been a burden of shame to him. Yet she had disowned him, disgraced him, all for the sake of her Tula keepers.

  He didn’t blame her; whatever she remembered of her life before she was captured was only a small part of what life had taught her. They were both so different to each other that they had no common ground to start from.

  That was the problem; he didn’t know how to extend an olive branch of peace to the woman sitting across from him. He didn’t even know if she wanted to recognise him as her brother.

  She was oddly remote, and he was almost in awe of her calm elegance. He had expected her to be different.

  Her reserve made him feel alkward and bashful.

  Rem watched her carefully as she studied the unfamiliar dishes before her. She cautiously tasted a few that caught her eye.

  The mashed yam did not meet with her approval. She pushed the dish away, and replaced the cover the servant had removed. However, she took a large helping of fried potatoes, and smoked fish kedgeree. After a moments hesitation she also ladled a spoonful of spicy beef and vegetables on to her plate.

  “The food meets with your approval, Aya?”

  He saw her stiffen at the unfamiliar name.

  “The food is delicious although the flavourings are a little strange, different to what I’m used to.”

  Rem nodded, and watched as she placed a tender morsel of the spicy beef into her mouth.

  “What is this dish?”

  Rem leaned forward to look at her plate.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “I know this flavour; I remember it… from before.”

  Rem attempted to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat.

  “Nanan makes it. She says it was our father’s favourite.”

  Astra looked up, and Rem saw surprise cross her face.

  “It never occurred to me that you would remember,” he ventured at last.

  Astra set her fork down, and pressed her napkin to her lips.

  “You think that because I was adopted into a new family I forgot my old one?” Her words were a challenge, but the tone in which they were delivered was calm and non-confrontational. Rem was startled, he had always imagined his lost sister would be like Jia Li and Li Lin: lively, impulsive, and feisty.

  She wasn’t like that at all.

  The words were alien to Aya. She was a blank canvas that took on the colours of her surroundings, blending in so perfectly that it was difficult to see her.

  Rem felt a prickle of uneasiness work its way down his spine. The veneer was unnatural, and he wondered what she had suffered that had made her cultivate such a façade. He felt a desire to comfort her, to tell her that with him she did not need to be so scared, that he would protect her. Yet some part of him knew that she wouldn’t allow him to reassure her.

  She didn’t accept him; not as her brother, nor as a person who it was acceptable to show weakness before.

  “When you stood before the Headmen it seemed as though you had forgotten us, Aya.”

  “Forgive me, Brother; I thought only of my Tula family's safety. I am sorry if I brought dishonour upon you,” answered Astra tonelessly.

  “I understand why you did it, Aya. It is not my wish to make you unhappy; all I want is to have my sister returned to me.”

  “I am here.”

  “But you are not mine,” he responded softly. “You belong to them, not to me.”

  Astra shook her head.

  “What do you want from me? They are my family; I know them. You are a stranger to me.”

  “All I want from you is the opportunity to change that, for us to get to know one another.”

  She studied his face for a long while without answering him.

  “I would like that, I think.”

  Rem smiled and stood, closing the distance between them. Awkwardly he placed his hand on her slight shoulder, a tentative gesture of peace.

  She tensed beneath his fingers and then, as she became used to the weight of his hand, she relaxed a little.

  Rem’s glance wandered over her hair, intricately coiled on top of her head. It was beautiful, regal almost, a shining mass of silky folds.

  “Why do you wear your hair like that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Rem touched one of the shining curls.

  “Una women wear their hair long and free. Tula women wear it short and severe. Yet you wear it neither way.”

  Aya touched her hair absently.

  “Because I am not Una any more, and my years with the Tula did not make me one of them. I am something different; a part of both worlds, yet I have no place in either. I thought it fitting that my appearance should convey that.”

  Her voice was calm, but Rem felt suddenly very sad. She had been treated badly by the Tula, and it had only been her foster-family’s protection that had kept her alive. Even when faced with the threat of death, and after losing a loved one to the Tula’s hate, she had still been forced to remain submissive to Ladron.

  What had she felt since then? How had she survived with the knowledge that the lives of those who protected her rested on her obedience? Suddenly he saw the truth of her statement. She truly was neither Una nor Tula. She had been rejected by both, and in turn she had rejected them. She had no sense of the tribal identity that an Una woman would hold dear. The only loyalty she professed was to family, to the Tula family who had stuck with her through every trial and tribulation.

  He realised suddenly that she would never accept him as
her brother just because they shared the same blood, or because they were both of the Una Nation. The only way she would recognize him as her family was if he stood by her and understood her.

  He would have to accept her for what she was: a woman who had betrayed her people, and disgraced her family, because there was no other option open to her.

  If there was to be any kind of relationship between them he needed to make peace with that. He would have to accept that she would never feel sorry for putting her Tula keepers before him.

  Rem unconsciously gripped her shoulder tighter and she gasped softly, looking up at him. He felt angry; why was it always left to him to forgive? Why did he have to accept the shame without comment?

  Aya continued to look up at him, her eyes blank and expressionless. He realised belatedly that he was still gripping her shoulder too tightly, and he released her hurriedly.

  She had not asked for this either.

  He broke the silence between them, his voice decisive and sure.

  “Perhaps it would be better if we ate with your family, Astra?”

  Wary interest lit her eyes as her Tula name left his lips.

  “It would not be better if an argument were to take place.”

  Rem lifted his hand and placed it over his heart.

  “You have my word, Sister, that I will not argue with those you love.”

  She considered him a moment longer, and then nodded.

  “In that case I would like it very much.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Astra followed Rem down the corridor that led to the west wing, aware of an uncomfortable nervousness that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

  Why was Rem being so kind and understanding?

  No one knew better than her the hatred that the Una had for the Tula, and Rem had been brought up to despise their very name. Yet here he was, extending an olive branch, and she couldn’t quite decide if there was some unseen motive behind his apparent acceptance.

  He was so young, the same age as Penn. It was hard to think of him as manipulative, to think that he might be making overtures of friendship in the hope that they would be able to give him information.

  Surely he was too young and couldn’t be that worldly wise?

  For a second she relaxed until, unbid, the recollection of the man who had commanded Rem to take her home filled her mind.

  He had commanded.

  Not asked.

  Not suggested.

  Commanded.

  His voice had been filled with the authority of one who knew that he would be obeyed, and Rem had obeyed.

  Why?

  Astra shivered. She had thought at the time that he must have been grandson to the Elder Headman, but now she had a more disquieting thought.

  Rem had only been a baby when she had been taken, and their parents, and older brothers, killed. He would have needed caring for and instruction in his role as a Headman.

  Who but one of her sisters’ husbands would have taken on such a responsibility?

  Therefore Rem would look up to him, and would take his advice on the treatment of his wayward sister and her Tula foster-family. Rem might not have thought to use them, but Astra was very certain the man from the Justice Chambers had.

  She shivered again.

  Using Rem to gain information was a very efficient and cunning idea.

  It was also scheming and unethical.

  She felt sick.

  Councillor Ladron would have used an innocent dupe like her brother to further his ends in that way. She had hoped and prayed that only one person with such perverse and hateful cunning had been born to make trouble on earth, but it seemed that it was not so.

  She thought back, trying to bring the man’s face to mind. He had been a little over average height; black hair with a firmly tamed wave. His eyes were so dark they had seemed black too, set beneath double lids. His Asian heritage was obvious, his bearing quietly confident. He wore power with the indifference of one who had never been powerless.

  Controlled, and used to having his own way...

  Dangerous.

  Yes. He was very, very dangerous.

  He was a problem.

  A problem that she had to overcome. She had no doubt that he had no friendly feelings for her or her foster-family. She had felt his distaste for her in his heavy stare. The words that he had spoken had been innocent enough, but their delivery had left her in no doubt of the insult he wanted to convey.

  Whoever he was, he was confident of his power over her and her family. However he was in for a rude awakening if he thought she would humbly submit to him.

  She had lived with the terror that Councillor Ladron had evoked, with his threats, and with the knowledge that she and her loved ones were completely in his power.

  Yet she had survived.

  She had even on occasion succeeded in besting him. There had been times when she could mislead him.

  Lies were hardest to spot when they contained an element of truth, and she had ruthlessly exploited his ignorance whenever she could.

  Whoever this man was, he would never be able to scare her as Councillor Ladron had done. She had plenty of experience in getting the better of someone without attracting their ire.

  Years of facing Councillor Ladron’s taunts, of walking a dangerous tightrope where her words and actions would have been heavily punished if they had contained any trace of defiance, had taught her how to survive under the hardest conditions.

  For a moment she remembered the weight of his eyes on her, and shivered. He couldn’t be worse than Ladron… could he?

  ------

  Leda watched as Ben helped himself to another portion of eggs. He looked better today. Leda smiled a little over her choice of words. He looked like… what was that ghastly expression he had used? Ah yes: he looked like death warmed over!

  It was a strangely accurate description.

  However, he obviously felt better, if three slices of scrambled egg on toast and two portions of kedgeree were any indication.

  Leda frowned, restlessly pushing the food around her plate.

  She wondered what Astra was doing. One of the women serving breakfast had told them that she would eat with her brother in the family room. The servents meaning had not been lost on Leda. Astra was family; they were not.

  “It’s just breakfast, Leda.”

  She started at the sound of Ben’s voice and shook her head.

  “No Ben, it's not ‘just breakfast’ any more than it was ‘just a law’ that Astra wasn’t allowed to eat with the Tula.” Leda pushed the egg around her plate listlessly. “It’s to tell us that we are considered inferior, just as Astra was considered inferior by our people.”

  Ben picked up a slice of toast and began to butter it. Leda watched as he added a thick layer of jam, and cut it in half.

  “Leda: it’s just breakfast,” he reiterated, moving her plate from in front of her and replacing it with the toast.

  “I don’t cook for just anyone, so you'd better eat that.”

  Leda looked down at the toast in silence.

  “What if they take her away from us, Benji?”

  Ben didn’t answer, and Leda looked up to find that he was considering her question thoughtfully. She felt oddly pleased that he was taking her seriously. She didn’t want glib words, or to be treated like a child.

  She wanted the truth in all its ugly glory.

  Eventually Ben sighed.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it; you can’t change anything by worrying.”

  He was right, she knew that, but the anxious knot in the pit of her stomach remained. She was surprised to feel Petta take her hand in hers, squeezing it slightly and giving her an encouraging smile. She was the elder sister; she should be comforting Petta, not the other way round.

  The door opened and Astra’s brother stepped into the room, followed by Astra herself. For a moment surprise held them all still. Then Petta rushed into Astra’s arms, hugging h
er as if they hadn’t seen her just last night. It was a telling reaction, Leda thought. It proved that they had all considered it likely that they might not see Astra again.

  “Are you alright?” asked Petta worriedly.

  “Did you sleep well?” broke in Penn.

  “What have you been doing?” demanded Balak.

  Astra smiled serenely, kissing the top of Petta’s head.

  “I’m fine. I slept well, thank you, and I have been speaking with Rem.” She reached out to ruffle Penn's hair affectionately, and they all turned to stare at Rem uncertainly.

  Rem Uel Ne Singh shifted in discomfort, defiance simmering just below the surface of his polite expression. Eventually her father stepped forwards, and bowed with his hand over his heart.

  “My name is Uri Va Dic Toban; please allow me to thank you for accepting us in to your home.”

  “Your presence is a necessary embarrassment, but as you have cared for Aya so kindly, I am in your debt,” returned Rem stiffly.

  Her father looked a little taken back by the boy’s reply. He smiled, looking toward his foster daughter, and warmth filled his eyes.

  “It was our pleasure to guard – Aya – for a time.”

  Uri’s soft reply seemed to sooth Rem Uel Ne Singh’s ruffled feathers. He struggled for a moment, before manfully squaring his shoulders.

  “I wonder if I might join you for the breaking of the fast?”

  Her father smiled and gestured to a seat between Penn and Balak.

  “It would be an honour, Rem.”

  Astra’s brother frowned, but inclined his head politely.

  “I may call you Uri?”

  “Of course.” Her father smiled again, and gestured to his sons.

  “This is Balak and Penn…”

  Balak bowed and Penn jerked his head indifferently in acknowledgement of the introduction. Uri frowned at the less than friendly action and moved on.

  “And this is Ceadron and Benji.”

  Ben almost extended a hand before seeming to remember that no Tula man would shake hands. His hand hovered uncertainly in mid air for a moment before he grinned and waved. Leda frowned; she would have to remind him to be more careful in the future.