Landmoor

by Jeff Wheeler

  “That is not true.”

  “You are deceiving yourself! I have seen young Shae itching to sip from the forbidden cups. I tell you from my experience, I have seen these Kilshae when they try to return, to gain admittance back into the protection of our society. To the very shelter they once took for granted. They are heartbroken when they come to learn that they cannot! Anathema is forever.” He leaned forward, giving Thealos a hard stare. “Will you risk that? Are the pleasures of Dos-Aralon truly worth that?”

  Mutters of assent rumbled through the chamber. Thealos didn’t dare look behind him.

  “You’re twisting my words!” Thealos said, stepping forward. “I’ve never had a sip of ale or eaten their burned meat. I’ve never done anything to bring dishonor on my name or my family. What sin have I committed to earn this? Our culture is in danger, Nordain. What will you do when the humans come here? Do you think they will grant you one morsel of honor because you’re a Council Elder? They will take your chalice and dash your head against the paving stones.”

  “Are you threatening..?” Nordain roared.

  “No! Sons of Fire, I am trying to get you to see what will happen if we continue to sit and do nothing! If I forsake the Rules of Forbiddance out there, I have no right to return. I know that. You do not believe me strong enough to resist their ways. I tell you that I am. As the son of a barter, I must be! Let me see the world as it is. Let me see it for myself, Elder. Without all our shade and illusions. That is all that I ask. If I am wrong, I will humbly submit to any penance you have for me, and I covenant to dedicate two Silvan years to a calling. I ask for a brief while to see if I am right. To follow where my heart leads me, just as our forbears did following Silvermere to this valley all those years ago. Was he a Kilshae to do so? Then I am in good company.”

  “And what gives you this right? You think that the gods of the Shae cannot protect us?”

  “Not from our own foolishness. They never have.”

  “And by what authority do you make this claim? Our ruler is the only one who can interpret the gods’ will for the Shae. That is the direction we must all follow. You must follow it, Thealos!”

  The young Shae stared at him passionately. “I cannot.”

  “You deny the authority of the King of Avisahn?”

  “No, I deny the wisdom of the Shae hierarchy.”

  “They are the same. If you accept our values, you must accept their decisions. By your soul, Thealos – you must accept it!”

  “I will not accept what is wrong – what has been wrong since we’ve let a stupid bureaucracy overwhelm our freedoms. Look where following frightened hearts has brought us? We’ve lost the whole valley to the humans. King Silverborne is a coward for letting it happen during his reign. And so are you for not seeing it. May our gods have mercy on us for the way you’re destroying this people.” And Thealos knew before the last words were out of his mouth that he should have kept that last thought to himself.

  III

  The Council Elder’s private chambers were lavish with gifts from the guilds he represented in Vannier’s name. Tall flawless vases, crystal dishes with sweet smelling confections, bedecked curtains bearing the lily-and-rose of the clothweavers guild. Each more dazzling than the last. Expensive trinkets from as far away as Sheven-Ingen littered an onyx table top nestled against the wall near the door. These rattled as the door slammed shut.

  “I told you to frighten him, Nordain,” Correl said. “Not send him to the block for sedition! In Vannier’s name, what do you think you are doing!” Thealos had never heard Correl angry enough to actually shout at the Council Elder.

  “What should have been done earlier, Thestyr,” Nordain replied, giving Thealos a sharp look. Thealos jerked free again of his father’s grasp and started pacing. “He’s a headstrong lad. Too headstrong. But he’s also a victim of high station. You’ve spoiled him horribly, Thestyr.”

  Thealos saw the venomous look that Correl gave the Council Elder. “I think I’ve spoiled you too much, Nordain. You never would have become Council Elder without me. And you’re not going to get away with this. Do you know how many votes in the Sunedrion you’ll need to condemn him? I’ll have Corbund and Val-Mestro make sure it never reaches the general audience…”

  “You’re getting old to be playing favors with the council…” Nordain said with a chuckle. “There is nothing you can do. He condemned himself in a hall full of witnesses! Trinton is hardly as pious as a gosling, but he heard heresy tonight. I assure you, your son will be under arrest before the night is over.” He gave Thealos an arch look. “You do well to look so fearful, Thealos. You should be afraid. I doubt the Sunedrion will cry for your blood, but you won’t be a free man when you come of age tomorrow morning.”

  “It’s not fear,” Thealos said through clenched teeth. He was furious.

  “You’re in enough trouble as it is, Thealos!” Correl snapped. “For once, be silent!” He fixed the Council Elder with his finger. “I know what you’re doing, Nordain. I may be old, but I am not blind. How much do you want?”

  “What?” Nordain laughed.

  “You caused this dilemma. What will it cost me to repair it?”

  “Save your purse for the morrow, Thestyr. I’m doing this for the sake of the people. We don’t need the Kinslayer Wars to start again. Thealos will stand trial for speaking sedition. It’s the only way to save your family’s honor. Wouldn’t you rather he die as a traitor than knifed in some back-street alley in Dos-Aralon?”

  “You did this on purpose,” Thealos said. “The summons…the witnesses…”

  “I did it for your soul, lad,” Nordain replied smugly, his eyes shining. “I gave you ample opportunity to cease this foolishness. You refused. Did you think we would let you walk away in shame? What, a Kilshae? The son of Thestyr Quickfellow? You’ve always been a very passionate lad. But it is only a matter of time before someone tries to use that.”

  “You son of Pitan,” Correl swore, shaking his head.

  “Be careful,” Nordain said. “There will be many who will say he learned this sedition from you.”

  When he saw Correl flinch at the accusation, Thealos longed to strangle the Council Elder.

  “You know I didn’t…” Correl stammered.

  “Ahh, that is the true issue, Thestyr. What do I know? And how much, exactly, is my good opinion worth to you? As I said, we’ll discuss those terms on the morrow.” Nordain stepped around to a soft-stuffed couch and seated himself. He gave Correl a hard look. “You may go. I must take the boy’s confession tonight so we can proceed with the formal charges tomorrow. And I’m sure the palace will be interested in hearing this right away.”

  Thealos looked pleadingly at Correl. “Don’t let him take me.”

  The Council Elder raised his eyebrows insistently.

  “Let me bring my son home with me,” Thestyr asked after swallowing.

  “Impossible. I said you may go.”

  “He hasn’t been put under arrest yet! For the love of Shenalle, give him one last night at home with his family!” Nordain scowled at the suggestion. “Whatever it costs me,” Correl sighed at last. “Whatever the cost to us, I don’t care. Let us make our peace with him before he goes to the Sunedrion.”

  Thealos was galled with Nordain, at the power he wielded over the Quickfellow family. At last the Council Elder sighed, bored. “He’s under your wardship then, Thestyr. But I tell you, if he’s not here tomorrow at dawn, I’ll have the Council Elder of Keasorn send the Crimson Wolfsmen to find him. Do you understand what that means? If I must send them, he’s as good as guilty.”

  “Upon my word,” Thestyr Quickfellow said, nodding vigorously.

  “Very well.” He gave Thealos a measured stare. “If I have my way, lad, you’ll spend your calling in prison instead of roaming the valley like a drunkard. It could have been different, but remember your obstinacy prevailed in the end. Hopefully, you will become a good lesson to others.”

  I hope so, The
alos was about to retort, but Thestyr grabbed his arm and directed him to the door.

  “Use my private retreat,” Nordain insisted, motioning to a fluted screenwork across the chamber. “My last piece of generosity for the evening. And Thestyr – the cost.” He tapped his mouth thoughtfully. “I could use twelve reams of satin-cloth and damask. I particularly like the pattern with the yellow primroses.” He took a deep sip of spiced wine. “Have it delivered to my attendant in the morning.”

  “Very well, Council Elder,” Thestyr Quickfellow replied tonelessly, hauling Thealos out of the Shae High Council and into the gardens beyond.

  * * *

  The pale blue moonlight glimmered on the silver window panes. Thealos could hear the sharp voices of Correl and Sorrel arguing in the keeping chamber across the main hall. In between the hard-edged voice of Correl he heard angry words that spoke of his mother’s pain. He listened, pausing in the darkness to savor the sounds. He rarely heard her curse.

  “I told you that we couldn’t trust Nordain,” Sorrel said. “He is a greedy, conniving thief. He’ll ruin us – ruin you! I’d sooner trust little Arielle to the Dos-Aralon army than that back-stabbing…”

  “I did what I could!” Correl thundered. “He’s our son. They were planning to hold him tonight.”

  “No!”

  “I know, I know! This will cost us dearly enough. But what else would they get him to confess? That I’d prompted him to shout off to the Council Elder of Vannier? Sons of Fire, he did it in front of everyone!”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I’m dispatching a messenger to the palace – to the Princess. Maybe she’ll speak for him.”

  “Against her father?” Sorrel was incredulous.

  “What other choice do we have? I’ll send messages to the members of the Sunedrion who owe us favors, but I don’t have many friends from Keasorn or Shenalle. Normally, this would never go so far so quickly. Nordain planned it from the start.”

  Thealos bowed his head and tried to bury the rage in his heart. He knew what he was doing would cost his family. He only hoped they would come to forgive him. Opening his eyes, he stared out at the moonswept gardens, filling his eyes with its sights. He’d miss all the comforts of the manor house, but it was the family gardens that would tug at his soul. He’d miss his parents and brothers, but it was his little sister that he would regret leaving behind. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to trap the good memories inside. Pushing away from the window, he went to the door and opened it.

  “I hear him,” Sorrel said. As he crossed the hall, he saw Correl and Sorrel face him from the doors of the keeping chamber.

  “I am sorry,” Thealos said as meekly as he could pretend. He looked at Correl. “I’ve failed you yet again.”

  Correl’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve always had your own will, Thealos. Ever since you were a boy. Why couldn’t you, for once in your life, have sought the family good instead of your own?” He shook his head, too choked with anger to speak.

  “How could I expect you understand me now?” he replied softly. “You’ve never tried to before.”

  “You’ve been doing things your way for so long,” Sorrel said with great bitterness. “But you are still our son.”

  “I always will be.” He sighed, hating that it had to be this way. “I’m going to talk to Arielle for a little while. Maybe we can talk later? I thought the worst that could happen would be an exile. I never thought Nordain…” He sighed again and shook his head.

  Sorrel nodded, folding her arms and pacing the tiles. Thealos smiled inwardly. He’d gotten his pacing habit from her. But she didn’t try and comfort him. No, she was still too angry. Their eldest son was abandoning the Shae tradition of manhood. Not only that, he had committed a serious crime. This would humiliate them. Giving Correl a final look that tried to be conciliatory, Thealos went up the long flight of steps and down the wide hall, running his palm over the flat banister. He stopped at the hall cross-way where a huge silver-gilt mirror faced him and swallowed the image of the room behind. He resembled Sorrel more than Correl, with her wide forehead and narrow face. But he had Correl’s green eyes, a startling color that matched his temper. The face staring back at him was a handsome one – Thealos knew that. He was an incorrigible flirt, especially at parties. But he stared at the image and wondered why the glass didn’t show his heart, his thoughts – all the ideas twisting and struggling to come to life inside his mind. It was only an image, and it revealed nothing of the person within. Much like the Shae. What they were on the surface, the polish, glitter and flash, was nothing what they had become deep within themselves. Frightened, reclusive, stubborn. Nordain was hiding from it. So many did.

  After closing the distance, he rapped on his little sister’s bedroom door. He waited a moment and then entered. Arielle was flinging the sheets away like a thrush caught in a thicket.

  “Thealos!” she gasped, running up to him and squeezing him so tightly around the middle it hurt. “I was scared that you weren’t coming back. They were yelling so loudly. I couldn’t tell what was happening.”

  “Shhh,” Thealos said soothingly, leaning down and kissing her hair. He cupped her chin and looked into her eyes. She was a beauty, the darling youngest of the Quickfellow family. “I’ll be all right, Arielle. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “Worry! I’m scared and excited for you at the same time.” She sighed. “You’re my favorite brother.”

  “You say that to Jaye and Jedian too,” he reminded her.

  “You’re all my favorites,” she replied with an impish grin. “But you are my special brother, Thealos. Are you really going to become a Kilshae?”

  He gave her an understanding grin. “That depends on whether you can keep a secret.”

  Her eyes widened with delight. “I can!”

  “I came to say goodbye, Arielle. Because you’re my favorite sister.”

  “I’m your only sister.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Tell them you were asleep. Tell them the only thing you remember is that I kissed you and promised that I would come home someday. Will you tell them that?”

  “You’re leaving? Right now?”

  He nodded. “I’m not going to get another chance.”

  “Can I come with you?” Her eyes were so serious it hurt him to look at her.

  He shook his head. “And add kidnapping to the charges? I’d better not, Arielle. Pretend to sleep.” She slipped beneath the thick wool and linen covers and shivered. Her eyes were misty with tears, and she squeezed him tightly.

  “I’ll miss you, Thealos.” She tugged on his shirt to bring him down and kissed his cheek. Then she remembered something and dug beneath the covers. “Take this with you,” she said, giving him a leather bundle. “I want you to keep it. For when you get lonely.”

  He stared at the bundle she’d pressed in his hand and swallowed. He knew it contained her wooden hoppit doll. “Thank you,” he whispered, giving her one last hug. “I am going to travel the whole valley, Arielle. I’ll camp under the pines of the Vale, watch the tide off the Cliffs of Demos, and drink from the Dayspring Rush. And I will bring you a gift when I come home.” He rose and approached the bedroom window.

  “A White Rose of Tharkin?” she asked, excited. “If you find one...?”

  “If I find one.” He gave her one last smile and disappeared through the window before she could see him cry. He shut the glass and felt the cool wind touch his face high up on the balcony. He breathed slowly, shuddering. Leaving her was harder than he expected. Climbing over the rail, he lowered himself down the black-iron slats and then dropped into the bushes of heather below. Keeping low, he waited and watched. Nothing.

  With the practiced Shae step-walking pattern, Thealos went around the side of the Quicksilver manor, staying on the dark rich soil and behind the rows of hedges and feather-fern. He reached his bedroom and found the stash he had left out the window earlier that day. A wool tunic and a long-sleeved linen sh
irt were folded in a stack and he put them on before wrapping himself in a thick green cloak. Thealos secured his favorite hunting bow to his travel sack with leather ties and slung the burden around his shoulders. He shoved a long dagger into his belt. He listened at the silver windowpanes but he could not hear anything.

  Thealos wondered how long he would have before Correl went to Arielle’s room looking for him? An hour or two? Not much time.

  Parting the branches of a fragrant azalea bush, he looked up at the glittering ocean of stars. The blue light of the moon Eroth bathed his face. He stared at the road, letting his vision adapt to the night colors. He waited patiently, knowing Nordain. Sure enough, he saw the two sentries who had kept him at the Shae High Council. They were watching the moonlit face of the manor with a good view of Thealos’ room. Arielle’s room was on the other side of the manor. Without a sound, he crossed behind the manor and disappeared into the dark gardens, following the side of the paving stones to keep hidden in the trees. Thealos crossed a small brook-stone bridge, feeling the darkness of the wooded grounds absorb him into its bosom, and he savored the smells in the air. He knew the back woods better than anyone else in the neighborhood.

  If Nordain had made sure that Keasorn’s Crimson Wolfsmen had been watching for him, Thealos knew he would never have made it sixty paces from the manor house that night. Inwardly, he was pleased his family worshipped Vannier instead. Their god may have made men good at trade. But they were terrible watchmen.

  IV