by D. L. Kramer
"Jayehl was the one who should have been here for this," Arlend returned, his deep voice quiet with respect for his dead brother. "He was more nobleman than soldier."
Nahtan glanced at Evaine as she bowed her head and turned away. The loss of Lord Bavol's youngest son still had a deep, painful affect on this family. Although Evaine was younger than all his sons, Nahtan knew she loved them as much as she loved their father and her own daughter.
"They won't even honor their brother's memory by doing what he would have," Lord Bavol grumbled, his voice as gravelly and abrupt as the first time Nahtan met him.
"Perhaps they're honoring his memory by not trying to take his place," Bear supplied from his seat. Nahtan nodded at his friend's comment. If anyone else understood the pain of losing a brother, it was Sewati.
"You both agree that you want nothing to do with Bavol Hold as her lord?" Nahtan asked Arlend and Tonek. When both nodded their heads, he looked to Lord Bavol. "You only have one other child," he said evenly. "But I can't turn Bavol Hold over to a child who's not even three summers old." He paused for a moment to look at Evaine, then back to Matthios. "With your permission, Lord Bavol, I would like to appoint Evaine as governor of Bavol Hold until Taleise is old enough to take her title as Lady."
Arlend and Tonek exchanged looks, and Nahtan suspected this was what they had been hoping for. Nahtan turned to them next.
"You two will support Evaine in any decision she makes," he told them. "Her word is as strong as your father's."
"All right," Arlend nodded, agreeing a little too quickly.
"I'm not through yet," Nahtan continued. He wasn't going to let them get away that easily. They had willingly gone against their father's requests to help him. Nahtan knew they were hoping to continue on at Bavol without the responsibility of running it. "Taleise's education is up to you two. Evaine will have her hands full maintaining the hold, she won't be able to spend as much time with your sister. By the time Taleise takes control of Bavol, I want her able to hold her own against any fourth year apprentice in the training yard or archery range. I also want her able to read and write and count." He paused to allow himself a faint smile. "Teaching her to ride and handle a Dweller's horse would also be very highly advisable."
At Tonek's surprised expression, Nahtan turned to face him fully. "Neither of you wanted to run Bavol, so it's up to you to make sure your father's heir can. That's the price you're going to have to pay for keeping your warrior status." He looked from Tonek to Arlend. "If you don't want to, then let me know now which of you is going to be lord."
Arlend and Tonek exchanged looks. Nahtan knew by their expressions that he had figured out what they were hoping against. He wasn't about to let them continue to be soldiers without helping Evaine prepare her daughter for her future role. "Taleise," Arlend answered after a moment, looking back to Nahtan. "And she'll be able to hold her own against you," he promised.
Nahtan nodded. "Be careful, lieutenant," he warned. "I may expect you to keep your word." When he looked at Evaine again, she was staring at him with surprised eyes.
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" she asked. "I'm not of noble birth. My father was a Mo'ani, but my mother was born in one of Bavol's villages."
Nahtan met her gaze easily. "And my father was a smith and my mother busy with seven children," he reminded. "I'm of even less noble birth than you."
"And they made him king," Bear added, standing up from his seat.
"If you're sure," Evaine continued, her voice doubtful.
"They deferred to you when Lord Bavol was sick, they can do it again," Nahtan stated, sparing Arlend and Tonek a glance. "I know you're hesitant because your parents weren't nobility, but there is no one else I'd want in control there with Arlend and Tonek refusing it. Besides, it's their decision, Evaine."
Silently, she nodded her head and looked over to the corner where Taleise and Valry were looking through two slender bound books.
"Now if that's settled," Nahtan looked around the room. "I still have another matter to take care of today." When no one said anything, he turned to Valry. "Time to go," he called to her.
"I want to stay here," Valry responded, not bothering to look up from her book.
"You can play with Taleise later," Nahtan returned. "We have to go check on the boy from the city."
Valry looked up at her father, then sighed and made a show of closing her book and setting it back on the shelf. With a defeated expression, she stood up and walked over to him.
"Or maybe you'll just go to bed," Nahtan told her.
Valry responded by shaking her head and holding her arms up to him. Nahtan picked her up, nodded to the others, then opened the door and stepped into the hall. Bear closed the door behind them and fell in step beside Nahtan.
"So what are you going to do about the boy?" he asked.
Nahtan shrugged. "That'll probably depend on what Yenene and Adie can tell me," he answered. "If neither of them can find out anything about his parents or when he was sold, there isn't really any way to get him back home." They turned down a side hall leading to Yenene's rooms.
"Do you remember anything about your home?" Bear asked.
Nahtan shook his head. "I remember the village's name was Edgewind, and I remember it was warm most of the time, but that's all. I knew a sister had been sold the same time I was, but I didn't know her name." He paused. "I still don't remember any of my family."
"That's why you didn't recognize Leisl when she and her husband were caught in the village below the Stronghold," Bear noted.
Nahtan nodded and stopped outside Yenene's door. He handed Valry to Bear and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake the boy if he was sleeping. After a moment, Yenene opened the door. Seeing who it was, she opened it further and motioned them in. Nahtan and Bear stepped into the room and Nahtan saw the sleeping boy on a short, padded bench. He was significantly cleaner than when they found him and Nahtan could see a bandage around one hand as he clutched the wool blanket over him.
"I was going to come find you, but thought you might still be busy with Lord and Lady Bavol," Yenene said, her voice a normal level. She motioned to the boy. "I gave him something to help him sleep, so don't worry about waking him."
"How is he?" Nahtan asked.
Yenene smiled faintly. "He'll be all right. The only major wound on him is the scar on his throat. He has a pretty deep scratch on his hand, but it should be all right in a day or two."
"Could you get through to him at all?" Bear asked.
Yenene's smile grew and Nahtan knew she had discovered something extraordinary. "That boy is gifted," she said, her voice quiet with awe. "He can say more in a picture than even you can say in words, Sewati." She looked at Bear, then back to Nahtan. "Come look at this." She motioned for them to follow her to a table. Bear set Valry down as they walked over.
Spread out on the table were various pieces of parchment in different sizes. On each one was a scene drawn with ink and shaded with bits of charcoal. The detail of the pictures was astounding.
"He--drew these?" Nahtan asked, looking through them.
Yenene nodded her head. "They're his home," she replied. "He can't read or write, but that's where he came from."
Nahtan studied the pictures. Something about them was familiar and nagged at him.
"His skin isn't as dark as yours," Bear noted, looking from the boy to Nahtan. "Maybe he's not from the same part of the southern villages."
"Or yours and Yenene's," Valry supplied, looking up at Bear with wide blue eyes.
"That's because we're Mowik and your father's not," Bear told her absently, flipping through some of the drawings.
"Do you think he'd mind if I took a couple of these?" Nahtan asked.
"Probably not," Yenene answered. "He doesn't seem to exert any effort in creating them."
Nahtan looked at her. "I don't suppose Jensina's said anything about this?"
Yenene shook her head. "Not yet. I was going to the Grand Cathe
dral later tonight, she may tell me something then."
Nahtan selected several of the smaller but more detailed drawings. "I want to see if Leisl recognizes anything in these," he said. "Let me know if you need anything for him."
Yenene nodded her head. "We should be all right, but if something comes up, I will." She paused for a moment and closed her eyes as she inhaled. "The wolf is coming," she said, her voice quiet and even. She opened her eyes after another moment and shook her head slightly. "What was I saying?" she asked, blinking her eyes several times.
Nahtan and Bear didn't bother exchanging looks. They had both seen Yenene's reaction to sudden visions enough that they knew what they were when they happened. It seemed there were certain times when Jensina wanted her adopted son to know things and didn't--or couldn't--wait until her priestess was in the Cathedral at her altar. Nahtan had learned that people were often referred to by other names by the gods. As for who the "wolf" was, he had a very good idea, and appreciated the warning.
"Just that you'd let us know if you needed anything," Bear answered Yenene's question.
Yenene nodded. "He should sleep the rest of the night." She looked over at the sleeping boy. "I was going to try and figure out his name tomorrow."
Nahtan nodded and rolled the parchments together, then lifted Valry into his arms.
"One of us will stop by in the morning," Nahtan told her. "But we should be here all night in case anything happens." He turned to the door and pulled it open.
"Good night," Yenene said as they left her room and closed the door behind them.
"'The wolf'?" Bear asked when they were a safe distance from Yenene's room.
"It's got to be Rial," Nahtan answered. "And who else would be coming here that Jensina would want to warn me about?"
"Just because he was throwing sharp things at you the first time he came to the Stronghold," Bear shrugged. "He didn't throw anything last time he was here though."
Nahtan sighed. "And I'm the one who dragged him from that cursed river," he added. "He has a strange sense of gratitude."
He stopped and handed Valry to Bear. "Stay with Bear in the guardhouse tonight," he told his daughter. "I wouldn't want you getting between Lord Valin and me if I have to put him in his place."
"He won't hurt you," Valry said, wrapping one arm around the back of Bear's neck. "Nobody can hurt you."
Nahtan smiled at the statement. "I wish," he sighed. "Just stay with Bear tonight."
Valry nodded her head.
"You know," Bear said thoughtfully. "If he gets too out of hand, you can always send him to find me." He smiled. "A shot from my longbow can travel farther than one of his daggers."
"I'll keep that in mind," Nahtan said. He stroked Valry's hair before turning toward his own room. Rial liked showing up where he was least expected so Nahtan knew he wouldn't be coming to find him while he was in his office in the morning. Like the pack of ghost wolves in the woods around Valin Hold, Rial did his hunting at night.
In his room, Nahtan pulled a thick book from one of the shelves and lit a couple of lamps. He set his sheathed sword against a nearby table, certain to have the two-handed longsword within easy reach. Settling into one of the chairs, he opened the book and waited.
It was a couple of hours before dawn when a hunch made Nahtan look up to the heavy oak door. Within seconds, he heard the faintest click of the latch being pulled. Setting his book aside, he adjusted his position while the door opened silently.
Rial must have seen the lamplight. As he stepped into the room, his eyes fell on Nahtan immediately and he seemed unsurprised to see him waiting there.
"You seem to have this bad habit of working late," Rial said, his young voice quiet and deep. His black tunic and breeches blended easily with his black cloak. Except for the coat of arms embroidered on either collar, there was nothing to suggest he was a nobleman. A long, slender dagger was sheathed at his waist, and was his only obvious weapon. Rial's eyes shifted over the room in a matter of seconds before settling on Nahtan again. He closed the door as silently as he had opened it.
"Some habits don't die," Nahtan returned, standing but staying near his sword. He wasn't threatened by Rial; he knew he could take him down if he had to. But Rial was very much like the wolves around his hold, and Nahtan could never be certain exactly what ground the young lord stood on or what action he might take. Only a couple of years younger than Nahtan, there seemed an eternity between their attitudes. "I was starting to wonder if you preferred living in the south," Nahtan finished.
"Not hardly," Rial seated himself in another chair and propped his boots on the nearby table. "But far be it from me to journey to a distant land and not bring my king back something to represent those lands."
Nahtan resumed his seat and moved cautiously now. He had a feeling he didn't want to know what Rial was doing, but had no choice.
"I'd tell you it's not necessary, but I know you better than that," he said.
"Oh, it's necessary," Rial assured him. "I'm only able to do so much without His Majesty's leave, which is why I've returned." He stood up again and walked back to the door. Opening it, he motioned to someone outside.
One of the Valin Mo'ani came into the room, bringing two young girls with him. Neither of them were older than ten summers, and their dirty hair and clothes barely hid the scars from bruises and lash cuts on their arms and backs. Both girls' hands were unbound though they seemed afraid to move unless they were told to. There were no scars on either of their necks.
Nahtan turned wary eyes onto Rial. "What is this?" he demanded, suddenly aware of every weapon around him: his sword barely inches from his hand, his dagger hidden in the sheath under his left sleeve and the skinning knife in his boot. He found he could easily use any one on Rial with no remorse. If Rial thought to keep the girls as slaves, Nahtan would tear him in half.
Rial raised an eyebrow. "I promise, all I've done is secure their 'freedom' and bring them to you," he replied. "The BishopLord may be gone, but the slave trade that brought you to us is far from dead." He gave Nahtan a ghost of a smile, obviously happy with himself for finding something that upset him. "They sell them a little older too, you know, for the brothels and wayhouses."
Nahtan wanted to march over to Rial and backhand him. Even after scoring a cut, he had to salt the wound. It took him a moment, but he forced his anger down. He wouldn't let Rial manipulate him this way. That he claimed to have given the girls their freedom lessened Nahtan's anger only a little--they were obviously afraid of Rial for some reason.
He looked at the warrior escorting the girls. "Take them to the kitchen and get them something to eat." He looked back to Rial as the Mo'ani took the girls out of the room. "I will expect you in my office within another hour," he told him. "Then you can give Lady Bavol, Lady Adiella, Sewati and myself every detail of your three years in the southern villages."
"You don't want Mo'ani there?" Rial asked deliberately. "I thought he'd be your chief advisor by now."
Nahtan held Rial's gaze. "Don't worry about who's there and who isn't," he told him. "You just worry about explaining what's happened."
Rial gave Nahtan the slightest bow of his head. "Then I have nothing to worry about," he said evenly, turning to the open door and disappearing into the hall.
Three - "What about the prophecy?"
Nahtan paced behind his desk. He should have known Rial wouldn't show up when he wanted him to. Evaine stood by the window, the hem of her loose velvet gown flowing slightly in the pre-dawn breeze under the knee length sleeveless brocade jacket she wore over it. Adie sat in a high backed chair on the other side of Nahtan's desk, Valry asleep on her lap, while Bear stood by the door, his arms folded.
"I should have drug him down here by his hair before I sent for the rest of you," Nahtan muttered.
"It would just make him less agreeable," Adie pointed out. "Though I'm not sure he's ever been completely agreeable since taking his place as Valin's Lord."
Nahtan
stopped behind his chair. "Probably, but it would make me feel a whole lot better," he returned. He looked at the door when Bear calmly reached over and turned the latch.
"No need to stand out there and eavesdrop," Bear said, smiling openly at Rial. "We'll still talk about you the same way while you're in the room."
"I see you've managed to retain your usual tact, Sewati," Rial nodded to him, stepping into the office. "I also notice you're still riding the plowhorse."
Bear's smile grew. "I'll forget you said that, then I won't have to worry about cleaning your insides off his hooves and legs."
"You're late," Nahtan said to Rial, careful to keep his voice level and not let the young lord know how angry he was.
"I was taking a look around," Rial shrugged. He nodded to Evaine as she turned from the window, then walked to the chair by Adie's and sat in it. His gaze fell on Valry, and he seemed to watch her closely for a minute before raising an eyebrow as he looked back to Nahtan. "Your daughter?"
"Yes," Nahtan answered. "Now what do you have to tell us?"
Rial sighed and leaned back in the chair. "It's such a charming place that you come from," he answered. "The people are as illiterate as the mules and chickens. I'd say only about half of them know they're under the rule of the great King of Herridon, but they can't read so it doesn't matter what notices get posted. I haven't personally met a single one that even knows your name--though a couple of my men claimed to have."
"How can they not know?" Evaine asked, stepping away from the window. "What about the prophecy?"
Rial chuckled. "They don't know anything about it," he replied. "The BishopLord's scholars did an excellent job keeping them from learning it. The only government most of them know was the BishopLord."
"What about the slave trade?" Nahtan asked.
"Ah, that," Rial smiled. "My personal favorite event of the last few years. I've heard the name Thorvald connected with several of the auctions, but I wasn't ever able to find him, so I can't tell you who he is--or if he even actually exists.
