Seventh Born

by Rachel Rossano

  The men immediately began speaking of the ceremonies to come and the preparations for the moving of the households. The Marcellus household would be switching places with the Honorus household, a massive procedure that took almost a year to complete.

  My work done, I stood silently looking down at the hollow shell that had once been the High King. How fleeting life was. One moment, he was the most powerful man in Pratinus and the next he was nothing.

  The great doors into the entrance hall opened to allow the kings to depart and go about the business of setting up the new government under the new high king. Already the messenger was on his way to Deucalion with the news of his ascension. The late High King Uiseann Honorus’ world moved on without him, almost untouched by his absence. Only his mourning family waited in the wings to bear his body away for burial.

  “Master?” Renato’s quiet presence slipped through my thoughts leaving traces of worry in its wake.

  “What is it?” I turned my eyes reluctantly from the slack features of the former king.

  “King Euginius wishes to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”

  “What does he want?” I asked. Turning from the bed, I began my own exit. Behind me the embalmers began their work.

  “He said something about disappointed expectations and acted like you would know what he meant.” Renato’s voice was tinged with curiosity.

  “I do.” I breathed deeply. “Tell him I will be expecting him in my quarters in an hour’s time. Then, join me there. We are going to need to prepare.”

  “For what? What does he want?”

  “He wants to know why his son wasn’t chosen and he isn’t going to be happy when I tell him that it is not for him to know.”

  Renato nodded. “I will notify the honor guard.”

  Stopping suddenly, I turned to him and shook my head. “No honor guard.”

  “But Sept Son,” he protested. “You say he will be displeased.”

  “Not that kind of displeased, Renato. The preparation is for speaking to him about his third son, Liber. We have news of him, and I need to gather the letters and review the facts. Now go, we have much to do.”

  Renato bowed, as was required in the formal setting of the court rooms, and hurried off to obey. I watched him with a thankful heart. Thank you, Almighty, for giving me such a man as an assistant. Thoughts of Renato were followed by thoughts of his sister and Errol’s project. It was a frequent progression. I needed to write to Errol again. He had mentioned issues with Zezilia’s matter movement training and requested my thoughts. In all the rushing travel of the past few days, I had forgotten to write back. I decided that now was the perfect time and started off toward my quarters.

  As I walked, I organized my thoughts on how to help Zezilia gain concentration skills. There were some exercises that I had read about over a year ago, that might help. I recalled being impressed by the concepts that the author had put forth. I was just beginning to attempt to recall where I had read them when I turned the corner to my room and came to an abrupt stop.

  Two elaborately dressed Segia stood at attention outside my closed door. It could mean only one thing. Waiting for me on the other side was the Mesitas himself. A flutter of panic passed through my chest, but I caught it before it reached my stomach. After my successful thwarting of his test at the High King’s death bed, I was leery of anything the Mesitas might have in store for me now. Closing my eyes, I sought the Almighty’s presence. As the peace that He promised was always there calmed my spirit, I took a deep breath. No man was greater than the Almighty and everything was within His control. The Mesitas could not harm me unless the Almighty allowed it.

  With this truth cradled in the hollow of my chest, I stepped forward. The Segius on the right turned, saluted me, and then opened the door for me to enter my apartments. I nodded my acknowledgement of his action.

  The heavy stifling scent of incense greeted me as I stepped into the sitting room. The windows were closed and the heavy curtains drawn, shrouding the room in an eerie filtered light. Instinctively, I reached out with my mind to sense the occupants in the room. The Mesitas stood in the far corner where the deepest shadows hid his form from my sight. No one else was present.

  “No cohort?” I addressed his position before crossing to the desk by the window to check what looked like the satchel where I kept my personal papers. Fear gripped my chest. The letters had been removed from the case and spread across the desk in a seemingly random pattern. “Reading my correspondence I see.”

  “The window was open and they blew across the floor. I simply replaced them, Sept Son.” His voice passed over my title with oily ease. “What interest would I have in your conversations with other talents? The business of the superior beings is far beyond my understanding.” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable.

  I turned to face him. “What do you mean?”

  “I have heard rumors of Elitism, Sept Son. Problems with talents striking out against non-talents would be awkward at this time. I came to warn you that the feelings among the kings toward you are not the most...” He paused and stepped out of the shadows. “I guess I would call it confident. After your late appearance at the death bed and the delay in easing Honorus’ spirit, I am sure that the kings found the selection of a second son as High King difficult to swallow.”

  “What is your purpose here, Mesitas?”

  “I only wish to warn you, Sept Son. Politics is a delicate art. Only masters survive for the long term and your inflexible ways are revealing your amateurish skill.” He crossed halfway to the door before stopping to face me. “Watch your step or you might fall and hurt yourself.”

  With that he swept to the door and exited.

  I waited, motionless, until he had passed beyond my scope of surveillance. Then, I allowed myself to breathe only to immediately cough at the perfumed stench that he had left in his wake. Crossing to the windows, I threw them open. Frigid air whistled past me and quickly worked toward banishing the smell. Leaving them open to make sure, I walked to the desk. Flipping through the letters, my heart sank. The missives from my trainers in the West about the Elitist issue and Errol’s letter about Zezilia were both in the pile. I could only pray that the Mesitas wasn’t able to read all of the letters. The top few were letters from my brothers and one from home, harmless. Please let it be those he read, Father.

  “Why are the windows open?” Renato asked as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. “And what is that smell?”

  “The smell is the reason for the windows,” I replied as I quickly leafed through the remaining documentation in my satchel. “Who left this out on the desk?”

  “I left it in your bedchamber under your other luggage. Why?”

  It was worse than I thought. Dropping the documents on the table, I stalked through the closed door and into the bedroom. My clothing lay on the bed in neat piles and the empty bag where they had been packed leaned against the foot of the bed, inside out.

  “It looks searched,” Renato observed from behind me. “What is going on here?”

  “When I arrived, the Mesitas was waiting for me in the front room. My correspondence was spread out on the desk. I am guessing that he was looking for something, but what.”

  “The seal of office?”

  I frowned. “It is possible. He wouldn’t know that I carry that on my person at all times.” My hand went to the medallion that hung beneath my undertunic.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Pray that he didn’t get what he was coming for and never leave my papers unattended.” I returned to the front room, carefully put all my papers back into their satchel, and handed it to Renato. “From now on, if they are not in my hands, they are in yours, understood.”

  Renato nodded. “I shall make certain that no one sees them.”

  Satisfied that they were as safe as I could make them, I turned my attention to preparing for the meeting with King Euginius.

  I GAINED MY ANSWER to h
ow much the Mesitas had seen when Cayphis cornered me before the breaking of the fast the next morning. “Greetings, Sept Son.” He saluted. “May I speak with you privately?”

  “Certainly. After the meal, I have a short period before the funeral.”

  “No, Hadrian,” he whispered, looking at me pointedly. “We need to speak now.”

  I nodded and sought out Renato’s mind from among the gatherers. “Cayphis needs to speak with me alone. Make my apologies. I shall return soon.”

  Renato’s musky reply was a worried affirmative. I glanced in his direction to see if I could detect what he was concerned about, but I couldn’t see him. By then, Cayphis was waiting by the side doors into one of the many antechambers of the High King’s residence. I didn’t have time to check on Renato. “Are you alright?” I asked as I followed Cayphis.

  “Fine. I will explain later.”

  It was the best I was going to get; so, I turned my attention to my friend as I closed the door behind me.

  “Are you aware of the rumors circulating about you?” Cayphis demanded before the door had completely latched. “They are saying you are an Elitist, determined to overthrow the system of non-talent government.”

  I frowned. “You know that I am completely against the Elitists and their philosophies.”

  “Yes, I know.” A deep crevice developed between his drawn eyebrows. “I know that you believe that all men are equal regardless of talent or abilities.” He crossed to the center of the room and gestured toward the closed door. “However, most of those kings in there do not. Besides there are other rumors, it’s about Ilar’s daughter. Are you prepared to explain that?”

  My stomach sank, but I didn’t let it show in my face. I calmly asked, “What about Ilar’s daughter, Cayphis? What exactly are they saying?”

  “I was discussing the best way to switch estates with Ostin Ilar this morning when King Sabine came up and interrupted. He demanded to know if Ilar knew where his daughter was. Of course, Ilar said he did, in the south visiting with Errol Silas’ family. Sabine immediately asked if Ilar knew what his daughter was doing under Errol’s care and Ilar said yes. Sabine walked away looking like a cat that had just trapped the mouse and I am pretty sure that you are that mouse.”

  “So, that is what he is going to do.” It suddenly fell into place. “The Mesitas, through Sabine was going to bring evidence against me. They would say that I was training a female talent for the express purpose of taking her to wife when her training was through. If it were true, it would be typical Elitist behavior, marriage between talents with the intent of more talented offspring. But there is a flaw in the argument.”

  “There is?” Cayphis looked almost hopeful.

  “I did not promise Ilar that I would marry his daughter. I promised to find her a husband after the completion of her training. I have in no way indicated that I plan on marrying her and I am already looking for another husband for her.” It was true, though I hadn’t exactly had time to do much more than begin thinking about it.

  “Is that what you are going to tell them if Sabine brings it up?”

  I nodded. “I am loyal to the High King and the current form of government. We do have the beginnings of an Elitist problem on the West coast, but I was only made aware of it three days ago, hardly time to react. Renato is researching how they were dealt with last time and we are going to come up with a plan as soon as I get back to the compound. Given time, my actions will speak louder than their rumors. The truth always comes out eventually.”

  Cayphis shook his head. “But you cannot wait until then. I know how these men work. Logic and honesty are not their top priority.”

  “I know, but by law they cannot touch me. I already have my hands full with the ceremonies and issues with the transfer of the high kingship. For now I am going to have to ignore the rumors.” I held up my hand to stop whatever Cayphis began to say. “I have limitations and there is only so much I can confront at one time. I will deal with the rumors when I can, but not now.”

  He frowned at me. “Just remember you are only human. A Mesitas has removed a Sept Son from power once before. I just don’t want this Mesitas to manage it with you.”

  I nodded. The incident he spoke of happened four generations before. A corrupt Sept Son had control and the High King was growing old. The Sept Son made plans to overthrow the government and name himself as High King, but the Mesitas at the time thwarted his plot. The Sept Son was executed for treason.

  “He won’t be able to do it, Cayphis. To remove me from my station he needs the High King and a majority vote. Ilar knows my true intentions with his daughter, Deucalion trusts me, and I trust Marcellus, Euginius, and you to also support me. That leaves Sabine and Quintinos. Don’t worry so much.” I smiled. “Between you, Tristan, and Horace, you would have me completely cowed and hiding under the nearest rock. I cannot go about my work in fear or I will be useless. All I can do is keep pressing on.”

  “And what about your safety?”

  “I am leaving that in God’s hands,” I informed him firmly. Though he did not share my beliefs, Cayphis always respected them.

  “May your god deliver you from the goddess.”

  “He will,” I assured him. “Now, I am hungry. Let us join the others.”

  He agreed and we made our way toward the door. Even though I had spoken what I believed in my heart to him, I could not help the fingers of fear that crept into my chest. Please, Father, give me strength and wisdom.

  Zezilia

  THE ICY WIND HOWLED through the barren branches of the naked forest. The tree beneath the tree house groaned and creaked like an ancient thing in the gusts. I tucked my skirts closer around my ankles and buried my face deeper into the woolen material at my throat. I was frozen through, but a part of me kept crying out that I deserved to be cold.

  I was flawed. I couldn’t manage to make it a single day without sinning in some way. The guilt that grew with each transgression weighted down my heart like the millstone in the back yard. I had tried. Ever morning I awoke and presented myself for breakfast resolved in my heart that I would make it through the day without a hurtful or deceitful thought or deed. Then I would falter. Accidentally break something, not answer with complete honesty, snap at Galatea or Eloine, or forget to do what I had promised I would, the list of my transgressions could go on forever. As the day progressed, the tally against me grew and the words of the Almighty’s Revelation would haunt me.

  The Almighty was an all-powerful God, stronger than the goddess and more frightening. Unlike the goddess, He demanded perfection. A standard that I was daily reminded that I could not obtain. But the Almighty was also a God of love. I longed to please Him. I wanted for Him to love me, but yet another truth barred my way. He hated sin and I was full of it. It hung around my heart in chains, baring me from the one thing I craved. A shiver shook my being that had nothing to do with the cold.

  A tear slid down my cheek, startlingly warm against the frigid surface of my skin. It was useless. I wanted to give up, but that wouldn’t solve my problem. I had tried that and my heart continued to ache.

  “Zezilia.” Selwyn’s wild, smoky taste filled my mouth. “What are you doing up there?”

  Quickly wiping away my tears, I reached out toward his presence to reply. “Thinking.”

  “And crying. Child, whatever is the matter?” As he approached the tree, I could feel his concern rolling off of him like a wave. “Adreet sent me looking for you when you didn’t come home for lunch. Why are you crying?”

  Between the concern in his sending and the feelings I was already receiving, my heart overflowed. A sob shook my shoulders and I buried my head in my hands. I was well beyond controlling the convulsions when suddenly I was enfolded in a brotherly embrace.

  “Hush,” Selwyn murmured as he stroked my hair. The movement was so far from what I deserved; it only caused me to cry harder. “What is the matter?” he asked, withdrawing slightly to fish out a scrap of cloth for my fa
ce.

  Accepting his gift, I mopped my face and blew my nose. Tears were still streaming down my cheek and chin, but I ignored them and offered the cloth back.

  “Keep it and in exchange tell me what is wrong. Have you fought with Candra?”

  I shook my head and covered my face with the gift.

  “Fight with someone?”

  “No,” I managed.

  “Then what is it?” His confused concern was overpowering. “Tell me, Zez. I cannot help unless you tell me.”

  I desperately hoped that Errol would teach me how to filter these emotions that I was constantly picking up from people. The strong ones were the hardest to deal with and Selwyn’s worry about me was definitely strong. It didn’t help that I felt down to my soul that I didn’t deserve the consideration that he was showing me.

  “I can’t get anything right,” I confessed. “I try and try to be perfect and I can’t. There is no way that I can please the Almighty and I want to so badly.” My frustration solidified in a lump at the back of my throat. I tried to swallow it and it wouldn’t budge.

  “None of us can.”

  I looked over at him in despair. He leaned against the half-finished wall of the tree house and watched me with solemn eyes.

  “Then there is no hope?” I asked.

  “I didn’t say that,” he immediately replied. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his drawn up knee and studied my face. “I take it that Errol hasn’t told you about the Almighty’s son.”

  I shook my head. “I have been reading the Almighty’s Revelation, but I haven’t read anything about His son yet. I am only halfway through.”

  “Ah, that explains it. Errol probably expected you to ask.”

  “Ask what?”

  “Exactly what you are asking me now,” he said with a comforting smile. “In the latter part of the Revelation, the Almighy’s Son, Iazus, came to live among men. While among them, He lived a perfect life from start to finish. Then, when the time was right, He took on all our sin and died. A few days later, He rose again to life. With his death and resurrection, He paid the price for sin.”