Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One

by Akers, Tracy A.

  “What will you do, son? Tie me to a chair?”

  “If I have to.”

  Brina smiled. “Thank you for your gallant offer to tie me up, Dayn, but I think you will not do it.”

  Dayn did not respond, nor did Reiv. Both remained silent, working individual plans in their minds.

  “Reiv, is the Lion still in Meirla?” Brina asked.

  “Yes, I think so. Why?”

  “It seems your brother wants it back. Perhaps it could be used as a means of negotiation…unless you have reason to keep it.”

  “You mean, give it back to him?”

  “Yes, unless it still holds value to you.”

  “No. I have no more loyalty to it, but Whyn must not have it.”

  Brina narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You say that with a purpose. Why must Whyn not have it?”

  Reiv glanced at Dayn. “I have my reasons. I would rather destroy it than let it fall into my brother’s hands again.”

  “Destroy it? But it has been in your family for generations. Why would you wish such a thing?”

  “You must trust me on this, Brina.”

  “Why did Whyn give it to you in the first place?” Dayn asked. “If it’s so valuable, why would he part from it?”

  “An interesting question,” Reiv said. “I am sure my brother had an ulterior motive.”

  “That he did,” Brina said. “I became an avid listener after you told me your suspicions. I overheard him say the Priestess had expected you to use the sword against him that day, then the guards could have taken care of the problem for her.” She shook her head. “I fear Whyn is tightly bound to her now. He is not the brother you once knew, Reiv. He has every intention of retrieving the weapon.”

  “Well, the mystery is solved,” Reiv said. “What a disappointment it must have been for him that I did not try to run him through with it.”

  “Yes, quite a disappointment.”

  Dayn shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand the workings of the Tearian mind.”

  “Be thankful for that, dear,” Brina said.

  “Is there anything else we could use to persuade them to listen?” Dayn asked.

  “I am not certain even the Lion could do that,” Reiv said.

  “Perhaps you are right,” Brina said. “Regardless, I understand the Shell Seekers are sending representatives to Pobu today. Jensa and Torin will be amongst them. We will revisit the issue of me presenting the demands when they get here.”

  Dayn and Reiv nodded reluctantly.

  Brina turned to walk toward the door. “I am off to see Nannaven,” she said. “She does not know there will be a new guest under her roof. Dayn, will you join me?”

  “You are both going to just leave me?” Reiv cried.

  “Brina, Reiv’s going mad here. Do you think we could find him other accommodations?”

  Brina studied Mya’s children who had been at quiet play in the corner since her arrival. A sudden shouting match arose between the boy and his sisters, and the room filled with torrents of high-pitched screams. “We will see what we can do, Reiv,” she said. Then she and Dayn exited the hut, leaving Reiv to burrow beneath the covers.

  * * * *

  When Dayn and Brina arrived at Nannaven’s, Jensa and Torin were there to meet them. Nannaven had not yet returned from her rounds, but Alicine had been there when the Shell Seekers arrived and was busy in the kitchen preparing buttered bread for them. She was delighted by Brina’s unexpected arrival and ushered everyone to the table for refreshment and conversation.

  “Brina, what are you doing in Pobu?” Alicine asked. “I’m happy you came, but I thought—”

  “I have come to stay,” Brina said. “It was time I made my choice.”

  Everyone around the table smiled, seeming to understand her meaning, and no further discussion was made of it. There were more pressing issues at hand.

  Brina turned her attention to Torin and Jensa. “How many came with you?”

  “Three hundred,” Torin replied. “The rest stayed in Meirla to hold things in check.”

  “What about weapons?” Dayn asked.

  “We brought what we could, but didn’t have much. Additional spears were fashioned. There are some knives, the dirk you made, and Reiv’s sword.”

  Brina gasped. “You brought the Lion?”

  “Of course. It’s the best weapon we could lay our hands on. Why wouldn’t we?”

  “I had just suggested to Reiv that it could be used as leverage,” Brina said, “but he insisted it be destroyed.”

  “Destroyed?” Jensa said. “But we may have need of it. Reiv must have said that for emotional reasons. Maybe he doesn’t like being reminded of what it once meant to him.”

  “Perhaps,” Brina said, but the twist of her mouth and the arch of her brows indicated she had other thoughts on the matter.

  They had only visited for a short while when a loud rap sounded at the door. Nervous eyes darted in that direction.

  Alicine made her way over and pulled the door open cautiously. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Mya, come in,” she said.

  Mya stood outside the door, an expression of anguish lining her face. Her youngest was clutched to her breast, the girl’s chubby arms clasped around her neck in a stranglehold. The other daughter clung to her skirts, while the boy stood solemnly behind her. Mya shooed the children in and glanced over her shoulder before entering.

  “What is it, Mya?” Jensa asked, rising from the bench.

  Mya lowered the child from her arms and stepped forward. “It’s the prince,” she said. “He’s gone.”

  “Gone?” a round of rattled voices exclaimed. Benches were pushed back noisily as everyone rose and stepped toward her.

  “What do you mean, gone? Where did he go?” Brina asked.

  “I don’t know. He must have gone out the back.”

  “Did the children see anything? Did he say anything to them?” Brina asked.

  Mya motioned her son over to her, but he lingered back. “It’s all right, Farris,” his mother said. “Just tell them what you told me.”

  Farris lowered his eyes in shame. Mya placed a gentle hand on his head. “Come, now. No one will be cross with you.”

  The boy eased his eyes from the floor, then said, “The prince was playing a game with us.”

  “What sort of game?” Brina asked.

  “A pretend game,” Farris said.

  “How was it played?”

  “He said it was like one he used to play at the palace.”

  “Reiv played many games as a child,” Brina said. “Could you tell me more about this one?”

  “The prince said he had to pretend to be somebody, so we got him Mum’s cloak and he put it on and swished around.” Farris risked a smile. “It was funny. He looked like a girl.”

  “Then what?”

  “He said he was going to hide so we could find him.”

  “And?” Brina coaxed.

  “Me and Nely and Gem were to get under the covers so we wouldn’t see him hide. That was the rule. Then he told us to count, but I was the only one who knew how. He said he would tell me when to stop, but he never did and it got really hot under there.”

  “So you got out from under the covers?”

  “Yes, and he was gone.” Farris looked embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have let him trick me.”

  Brina smiled. “Well, Farris, you have nothing to be sorry for. It sounds to me like you followed the rules perfectly.” Brina nodded toward the table. “How about you and your sisters have a seat at the table while the grown-ups talk. Alicine made some berry tea.” Brina winked at him. “Perhaps your mum will put a little extra honey in it for you.”

  Farris grinned and nodded enthusiastically. Mya ushered him and the other children to the table while the rest of the adults moved to the corner. Once the children were settled with tea and buttered bread, Mya joined the group and the discussion began.

  “He was in no condition to travel,�
�� Dayn said. “He could barely raise himself out of the bed.”

  “Maybe he’s coming here,” Alicine suggested.

  “I didn’t see him,” Mya said, “but I came the shortest route.”

  “I think I know where he is headed,” Brina said grimly. “He is going to Tearia.”

  “What?” Dayn said. “Why would he…” His voice trailed off as he recalled the last conversation they had had. “He didn’t want you to go.”

  “Yes, he did not want me to go,” Brina said.

  “We have to stop him,” Dayn said, making a dash for the door.

  “Dayn, wait!” Brina called out.

  Dayn spun to face her. “There’s no time, Brina! Once he gets outside of Pobu he could take any number of routes through the hills to get there. There’ll be guards patrolling and—”

  “We cannot make a spectacle of ourselves,” Brina said. “Word cannot reach untrustworthy ears that Reiv may be making his way to Tearia.”

  Dayn took a calming breath. “You’re right. Let’s fan out and try not to draw attention to ourselves. If we go different directions, maybe one of us will find him and turn his stubborn backside around.”

  They all left to look, except for Mya who gathered her children and hustled them home. The group followed the impromptu plan as best they could, but none of them saw any sign of Reiv. By the time the sun had settled behind the hills, they knew it was too late. If he had indeed headed for Tearia, he would surely be there by now.

  “We have to call a meeting,” Dayn said when they had all returned to Nannaven’s.

  “A meeting?” Brina asked.

  “If we’re going to fetch Reiv back, we’ll need a show of arms. The clans need to be called, weapons gathered—”

  “Dayn, think what you’re saying,” Jensa said.

  “I know exactly what I’m saying. Reiv is in Tearia and there’s no telling what they’ll do to him. Torin, where’s his sword?”

  “Hidden on the roof,” Torin said.

  “Good. If it’s the sword Whyn wants, then it’s the sword he gets. But only in exchange for Reiv.”

  BACK TO ToC

  Chapter 22: Facing the Demon

  It was dark when the Guard accosted Reiv outside the city walls. He had long since discarded Mya’s cloak, having only worn it to hide his identity from the Jecta, not the Tearians. He was arrested without incident and taken to the palace, bypassing Guard Headquarters entirely. The guards marched him into the royal receiving room, the clank of their armor vibrating against the pit of his stomach. With a shove, they deposited him before Whyn, who was seated upon his throne.

  “Have you come to beg my forgiveness?” Whyn asked.

  Reiv remained silent as he lifted his eyes to his brother, surprised by what he saw there. Whyn’s once gentle features had become hard and drawn, and though his eyes were still pale, Reiv could detect a hint of darkness in them. As Reiv studied his brother’s face, he wondered if this was what he himself would have become. Would he have been corrupted by the Priestess just as easily? A part of him wanted to deny the possibility of it. The other part knew the probable answer.

  “From the gash on your side it appears you are a part of the rebel movement,” Whyn said. “I must honor the guard who put it there.”

  “Crymm will be most grateful,” Reiv said.

  “Crymm has ever had his uses. I wonder why he did not finish the job, though.”

  “When you see him, you may ask him that question.”

  “Oh? So he was not amongst the dead then,” Whyn said.

  “No, he is with us now. He has been a good source of information.” Reiv raised his brow as though he knew something when, in fact, he did not.

  Whyn rose, gathering his stature. “The guards tell me you walked into their midst without so much as a protest. What is it that brings you here? Surely it is no favor to me.”

  “I have come to present a list of demands from the Jecta.”

  Whyn stared at Reiv as though he were looking at an idiot. He burst into laughter. “Demands? From the Jecta? You must be joking.”

  “It is no joke, Whyn.”

  A shadow crossed Whyn’s face. “You will no longer address me by that name. From now on, you will refer to me by the title I am due.”

  “Oh? And what title would that be? Surely you do not expect me to call you King. A king would never—”

  “I tire of your disrespect!” Whyn shouted. He gestured to a guard who marched over and grabbed Reiv by the back of the neck, forcing his knees to the ground and his head to the tile. Whyn motioned the guard to let loose his hold, and Reiv yanked his head up and glowered at his brother. But a movement to the right redirected Reiv’s attention.

  Reiv’s breath nearly stalled as Cinnia strolled toward the dais. Her flowing nightgown was pinned at her shoulders and draped down her body, her alluring shape evident through the nearly transparent material.

  “Husband,” she said, “I heard we had a guest.” She glanced at Reiv with a warm smile, but her eyes were as cold as stone.

  “Cinnia,” Reiv managed. As his gaze followed her, she seemed different somehow, and yet her beauty still had the power to enslave him. That much had not changed.

  Whyn’s eyes darted between them. His face went stiff, an old uneasiness resurfacing. “You should not be here, wife,” he said. “This is official business, not a social call.”

  Cinnia’s lips formed into a pout. “Oh, please, it has been so long since we have seen your brother. Surely you would not deny me a moment.” She did not wait for a response and walked toward Reiv who was still kneeling. She looked him up and down, then circled him slowly, examining him as if he were a horse at auction.

  Humiliation swept through him as her critical stares scraped over his body. But his feeling of degradation quickly flared to anger. “Would you care to inspect my teeth?” he snapped. “Or would you prefer I perform a trick for your entertainment.”

  Cinnia seemed taken aback, but then her temper rose to match his. She glared at his hands and said, “No, I can see you are of inferior stock.”

  “Oh, and you are welcome, by the way,” Reiv said. He hoped his comment would remind her that his hands were as they were because of his love for her. But she did not seem to notice, nor did she seem to care. She tossed her head and marched back up the dais. “I am going to bed, husband. You will join me there soon, will you not?” She threw a knowing glance at Reiv, then raised herself on tiptoes and kissed Whyn on the lips. As she strolled from the room, she displayed exaggerated grace, no doubt done at Reiv’s expense.

  Whyn stared after her as she left. He sighed longingly. “You know, I really am tired…and the bed sounds particularly good right now. We will continue this discussion in the morning.” He motioned the guard with a nod of his head, and Reiv was yanked up and pushed toward the corridor leading out.

  “Yes, there is still much to discuss, I can assure you!” Reiv called over his shoulder. But a swift punch to the wound under his ribs stopped any further comment on his part.

  As Reiv was shoved against the wall of the holding cell, he felt anger well within him. It was not at his brother who had betrayed him, nor at Cinnia who no longer loved him. It was not even at the once faithful guard who had just shoved him into the cell. No, this anger was at himself. He had mishandled the whole thing; he knew that. Once again he had allowed his emotions to get in the way. He should have kissed Whyn’s feet, groveled, whatever it took. But he had not. Now here he was, back in a cell, and he had accomplished nothing.

  His eyes gradually adjusted to the dimness, and he realized he was not alone in the holding area. He had been ushered into a private cell, recently vacated by the stench of it, but the cell across the way was filled with at least a dozen prisoners. Some he recognized, others he did not; but they all seemed to know him. They stared at him in depressing silence.

  A man pushed his face between the bars, his eyes slanted in Reiv’s direction. “How’d ye end up in this place,
prince?” he asked.

  Reiv walked to the bars of his own cell and surveyed the grim faces across the way. “I came to present your demands,” he said.

  The faces seemed to cheer for a moment, then fell with realization. “Must’ve gone bad if you’re stuck here with the likes of us,” someone said.

  “Be encouraged, friends,” Reiv said. “I am to meet with the King again in the morning to discuss the issue further.”

  He forced a confident expression, but his insides felt decidedly less assured.

  Reiv moved away from the bars and curled up on the straw. You will have to grovel, he told himself. Just do it.

  The next morning Reiv was awakened by the rattle of keys and a loud voice barking orders for him to get up. When he didn’t do it fast enough, he was forced to his feet by a swift kick. He was marched from his cell and led in the direction of the temple, a detour he hadn’t expected. As he nervously surveyed his surroundings, he realized the sun was up, but the sky was a blanket of grayish yellow haze that had settled upon the landscape. Pulling in a deep breath, he noticed the air was strangely thick. It was as though he had to concentrate to breathe.

  When they reached the last step of the temple, the guard ordered Reiv to halt. He waited in silence until eventually he was led through the double doors and down the corridor to the Room of Transcension. There the Priestess sat on her throne directly in front of the statue of Agneis. Reiv stood before her, moving his eyes up the towering marble deity at her back. The icon looked nothing like the Agneis he knew.

  The Priestess held Reiv in her icy stare, while Whyn, who stood beside her, watched him with an expression of mockery. Reiv’s mind raced for a plan of escape. As though anticipating his move, the guards pressed closer to his side, then forced him to his knees.

  “I understand you have come bearing demands from the Jecta,” the Priestess said. “Brave, but foolish.” She rose and glided down the steps of the platform, then stopped and stood before him. “You have angered the Goddess with your traitorous ways. She is not pleased.”

  “You do not speak for Agneis,” Reiv said, surprised at his own boldness.