Songs of the Eternal Past- Complete Trilogy

by C S Vass

  “We’re going to get to the bottom of these kidnapping once and for all,” Fiona said.

  “Oh? And how exactly are we going to do that?”

  “By going to the source of the problem and asking some very hard questions.”

  “What in the name of the gods are you talking about?”

  Now was the moment of truth. If she hesitated she might miss the opportunity for good. Trusting in fate, and in Donyo, she made up her mind and looked into his off-grey eyes. “Listen, Kevin Lovewood is behind the kidnappings, or at least he’s involved. I know it. Fiercewind knows it. Hightower knows it. Now we need to confront him. He won’t fear me alone, but if someone close to the Duke, someone with authority accompanies me, I know that we can get him to talk.”

  Donyo looked at her, carefully considering her words. After a long and heavy silence he asked, “Have you been smoking drumba?”

  Fiona turned to leave, but Donyo grabbed her arm. “Wait, wait, wait,” he quickly stammered.

  She pulled herself free. “Don’t you presume to touch me,” she said.

  “Listen,” Donyo hissed. “Let’s just try to get some things straight. You say that Lovewood is behind these kidnappings. Now, assuming our, eh, Horselord, is really a criminal genius in disguise, that still begs the question why are you trying to play the hero when you claim Hightower and Fiercewind both know about it?”

  He gave her a long impatient stare. At last she responded, “Well, I may have accidentally overheard some of the things they were talking about. It doesn’t matter. I know that they’re not going to act. Not now, maybe not until it’s entirely too late.”

  He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “And naturally you’ve decided that you know better than them. So what exactly are you going to do?”

  “Confront Lovewood,” Fiona said. “With or without your help, and with or without approval from the Duke or anyone else. Sun Circle is your world, Donyo, not mine. I don’t care about the politics of court. I’m here for one reason, and one reason only. To find Rodrick, and everyone else who has fallen victim to these monsters.”

  “A lovely thought,” Donyo said. “If only it were remotely true. You are here for one reason, I’ll grant you that. It’s because the Duke ordered it. You need to learn that there is a chain of command, and that people hold the authority they have for a reason. Not so some upstart from outside the castle can come play hero.”

  There it is, Fiona thought, strangely sad. I thought that Donyo might have at least had some decency but he’s the same as all the others.

  The Master Architect looked uncomfortable. “Fiona, I’m sorry. That was unworthy of me.”

  “Actually I think it was right in line with your worth,” Fiona said. “Perhaps it’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me yet.”

  “No, dammit, it wasn’t. I do not think less of you because you come from outside the castle. I think your lack of experience with court politics perhaps makes you a bit bold in ways that will prove to be unhealthy. You are going around provoking people that you should not provoke, and consequences will come of it!”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Fiona said. “The consequences will come. For Kevin Lovewood. The only thing left to decide is how soon they do come, and what will be the fate of those he’s harmed when they’re finally found.”

  She turned and left him standing there. She was done, she decided. Done playing by their stupid rules. Done pretending that she was less capable than she was. Rodrick certainly didn’t make it to his position by cowing his head and doing what he was told. He made his talent obvious, and the rest had no choice but to respect it. Well, she was his sister, wasn’t she? If he could do it, then so could she.

  Blood was pounding in her temples as Fiona raced outdoors towards Lovewood’s manor. Finally she had the ability to single out a source for this problem. No more vague whisperings about Vaentysh Boys, or the Laquathi. There was a specific person doing these things, and now he was going to pay.

  Lovewood’s manor stood squat and lonely on its high hill. Would some new money family move in after he was brought to justice? Or in his wrath would the Duke simply burn it to the ground as a warning to others? She hoped for the latter.

  Not wanting to give Lovewood time to prepare she decided to sneak in. Stealthily as a cat she crept through his private gardens, past rose bushes and orange trees ripe with fruit.

  It was a simple task for Fiona to climb the back wall, rough as it was with bricks piled carelessly together, and with plenty of ledges, nooks, and crannies for her to find a place to fit her hands and feet. She wanted to get as high up as a possible so that should she chance to meet Lovewood unexpectedly on the stairs she would have the higher ground.

  When Fiona reached the third floor, she peered into a window glowing with light. As she looked in she saw Lovewood, shirtless, kissing one of his servants. Smiling, Fiona knew she would not have a more perfect situation. Pushing the glass of the window it opened silently, and she leapt into the room, nocked an arrow, and shouted “Lovewood!”

  The servant screamed and fell. Lovewood shouted incoherently and moved to pick up his shirt, but as soon as his fingers brushed the fabric an arrow sprouted between his thumb and pointer finger, nailing it to the floor.

  “Next one goes through your hand,” Fiona said. “Stay!” The command was directed towards the servant who had made to run to the door. At Fiona’s word the woman simply slunk against the wall, clutching her dress. Another arrow was already nocked and aimed right at Lovewood’s skull.

  “Are you mad?” he asked. “How dare you barge in here uninvited? The Duke will have your head for this!”

  “If I were you I’d be a lot more concerned with what the Duke will do with my head, after he finds out that I’ve been kidnapping members of his court.”

  “You’re…you’ve been…you kidnapped someone from court?” he said stupidly.

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “No, but you did. And now you’re going to pay! Where’s my brother?”

  “Are you drunk, woman? You think I…what proof do you have?”

  “You’re a Vaentysh Boy,” Fiona said. “That’s all the proof I need.”

  “What does being a Vaentysh Boy have to do with anything. Lot’s of people are Vaentysh Boys.”

  “Then why so much secrecy around it, if you’re just a harmless little club? They weren’t so harmless at Sun Circle.”

  “Lots of people were rioting!” he shouted angrily. “There were some Vaentysh Boys, there were all sorts of people. In case you forgot, I was on the Duke’s side during that little skirmish. Maybe the Vaentysh Boys are so secretive because some crazy bitch might show up in their house fi—”

  The thrump of an arrow next to his head silenced him. “Quiet,” Fiona said. As the arrow hit the wall, the woman leapt up and sprinted out the door.

  “Shit,” Fiona said. Going after the woman didn’t seem to be an option. Now she had no choice but to handle this quickly. “I asked you once already. Where’s Rodrick?”

  Lovewood was at a loss for words as he looked at her. Deep in Fiona’s chest, she began to feel an anxious pang of doubt. But no, it had to be Lovewood. He’s a Vaentysh Boy and Fiercewind and Hightower had been talking about him.

  They didn’t mention Lovewood by name, a creeping voice said in the back of her head. Her throat began to feel dry. They didn’t mention Lovewood by name, but who else could they possible have been talking about? It was obvious, wasn’t it?

  “I have no idea where your brother is,” Lovewood said. “But if he were here, he’d be clasping you in irons for assaulting a member of the Duke’s court. I invited you into my home, showed you kindness, and even protected you during the fighting, and this is how you repay me? With your insane accusations?”

  Fiona marched on him, dropping her bow and drawing the demon-pommel sword from its sheath. “We don’t have time for your games,” Fiona said. She placed the tip of the blade directly into the apple of his throat. “The Vaentysh
Boys are nothing but trouble, and I want to know what you’ve done with my brother and the rest of them. You have until the count of three.”

  “Or what, you’ll kill me in my own home?” Lovewood said. He looked at her with sharp, defiant eyes. “I don’t think so, Sacrosin. You’d hang, and then who would be left to give a shit about your brother.”

  Anxiety burned hot in her chest and she felt a rising panic. Why hadn’t she thought things through? Why had she acted so recklessly? She should have talked to Fiercewind. She should have talked to Hightower, not just spied on him like a sneak. Why did she always do these things to herself? If Lovewood didn’t confess, what would happen to her?

  A loud bang signaled that several men had stormed into the house. Fiona could hear boots thumping against hard wood. “Time’s up, Sacrosin,” Lovewood said. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if you put that blade down now and beg forgiveness, they might not kill you.”

  Everything was happening too fast. She needed time to think. She needed time to convince Lovewood to speak, but what if he didn’t know anything after all? What if she had made a terrible mistake and now Rodrick was going to be lost forever because of it?

  As her head swirled with horrible thoughts, the door burst open, and ten soldiers with swords drawn were shouting. Fiona felt as if she were in a dream as angry hands seized her, forced her to the ground and bound her arms behind her back. She thought she could hear voices, perhaps, but she didn’t know what they were saying. The world moved in slow motion and sped up all at once as she was marched out of the house having lost her one and only chance to save Rodrick.

  * * *

  Fiona seemed to exist outside of her own consciousness as she was dragged down into the castle dungeon. Was that hours ago, or days? If it were only minutes that wouldn’t have shocked her either. She couldn’t seem to get a grasp on her own thoughts.

  All things considered her cell was surprisingly hospitable. There was a small fireplace where the flames licked the stones and filled the room with the comforting smell of burning shagbark. She had a proper mattress, simple as it was. There was even a table with a few books on it, though she did not care to see what they were.

  How could she have been so stupid? What did she think was going to happen? If only Lovewood had been alone, perhaps she could have had hours with him. But she had barely spent five minutes in the room before everything went wrong. It seemed that nothing she could do in Sun Circle was right. Was she really as crazy as everyone was making her feel? All she wanted was to find the people responsible for her brother’s disappearance. Did no one else share that goal?

  “Fiona,” the voice said without sympathy, but not entirely without warmth.

  “Sasha?” Fiona said, hardly able to believe it. “Is that you?”

  “Yes.” Sasha appeared at the entrance to her cell, her heart-shaped face shadowed by the iron bars that separated them. “Well…I can’t say I’m surprised. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” Fiona said. Sasha tsked, and Fiona knew that they were both equally unsatisfied with that answer. “I was just…so positive that Kevin Lovewood was behind the disappearances.”

  “And now?”

  “Now…” Fiona didn’t know what to say. For a moment she felt tears coming to her eyes and she quickly blinked them away. “I still say he did it.”

  “Honestly, Fiona. Why? Because he supports the Vaentysh Boys? What does that tell you? Lots of people support the Vaentysh Boys for lots of different reasons. We saw enough of them when they tried to attack Sun Circle. Why do you think the gods gave you some special insight that allows you magical access to information the rest of us don’t have?”

  “If you came here to lecture me you can go,” Fiona said, her voice growing hard.

  “I probably should, because no matter how much you get lectured you never learn!” Sasha said. She took a deep breath. “Do you think that there’s no capable people searching every inch of Haygarden for Reggie and Rodrick? They will be found, but maybe not as soon as they could be if you go crazy and start attacking members of the court. I don’t know why you hate the Vaentysh Boys so much. They’re like any other group. Some are good, some are bad, and regardless of how you feel about that you can’t just hate them all.”

  “That’s easy for you to say!” Fiona was on her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. “You’re not just some up-jumped street rat who doesn’t belong in Haygarden! You’re not the one that gets isolated and punished, whether at Clearwater or Sun Circle, just for being alive! The Vaentysh Boys want to throw out the outsiders and build up the city walls to be ten times higher than they already are. So don’t tell me why I should give them a chance.”

  “Really, you do just try to see the worst in everything and everyone, don’t you Fiona? I don’t even know why I came. It’s not like we’re friends. Just…”

  “Just what?” Fiona demanded.

  Sasha sighed. “Just, good luck.” The shadows swallowed Sasha’s form as she disappeared into the darkness.

  Fiona picked up one of the books and threw it as hard as she could against the wall. The pages splashed open awkwardly and landed facedown in a corner.

  “Really now, that’s hardly necessary.”

  “Not you,” Fiona moaned.

  “Your condition has certainly done nothing to improve your mood,” Donyo said. “Though I hardly would have expected it to.”

  “What do you want?” Fiona asked as Donyo approached her cell.

  “My, my, you are just ready to spit on any hand that comes to lift you up, aren’t you? Do you realize how much trouble you’re in right now?”

  “I’m still alive,” Fiona said. It seemed to be the only thing she still had going for her. “And at least I’m not drunk,” she added as a bitter afterthought.

  “No? I never would have guessed from the way you’ve acted.”

  A wild idea seized Fiona. “Tell me,” she said. “Are you a Vaentysh Boy?”

  He laughed merrily at that. “Yes, brilliantly done Fiona. You’ve unveiled my master plan right when I was about to seize the throne for myself and claim Sandra for my bride.”

  “Shut up,” she said, irritated.

  “No, I’m no Vaentysh Boy, but I must say it is hard not to appreciate how after everything you’ve been through you are still utterly incapable of keeping the slightest suspicion inside your head. Remind me never to tell you any personal information. I’d hate to think what would happen if you found out my secret crush.”

  “I wasn’t made for these court games,” Fiona said.

  “Clearly not. Though if Headmaster Fiercewind had known just how poorly you would do in Sun Circle, I’m sure she would have gone to extensive lengths to keep you from arriving here.”

  At the Headmaster’s name Fiona’s heart immediately lightened. “Fiercewind, where is she? She can help me! You must send for her. Please, Donyo.”

  The look on his face shattered her hopes. “No, child. The Headmaster can’t help you now. She has already tried. It was quite touching, really. She spoke passionately in your defense to the court, and there was a moment when I actually thought she might have started to sway the Duke’s opinion when she questioned how a grown man and Master of Horse had allowed himself to be disarmed and threatened by a girl not even graduated from school. But in the end, it was to no avail. She and the Duke quarreled, an ugly sight to behold, and she has fled Sun Circle. There is a warrant for her arrest.”

  “No,” Fiona breathed. “Then…then there really is no hope left for me, is there?”

  “Well, that depends on what you mean by hope,” Donyo said. “You are to have a trial. A speedy one. I’m afraid you will not have many on your side.” He took a step closer to her, bringing his squashed nose and curly black hair more clearly into her view.

  “Fiona,” Donyo began, “You must be humble. You must. I say this as your friend. Bow your head. Apologize. Blame your poor upbringing. Blame your womanish
nature, the Duke will eat that right up. Blame being placed in a situation which you couldn’t possibly be expected to understand. But most importantly, bow your head, and ask for forgiveness for your crimes. Do that, and he just might allow you to accept exile in the Lordless Lands.”

  Fiona was not surprised. She had assaulted a high-ranking member of the court. Exile was her best option, though death was still probably her most likely.

  “You think I’ll beg and grovel to the Duke and ask forgiveness from those who have kidnapped my brother and ruined my life? What kind of warrior would I be then?”

  “The kind that still breathes,” Donyo said. “As much as I’m sure the poets would love to sing of the roaring girl who challenged the Duke and died, I would rather not hear that song.”

  “Life is about more than songs,” Fiona said. “Though it seems you people who live at the top of the mountain will never understand that.”

  “Just think about it. Please. Maybe you’ll decide that the opportunity to live to fight for your brother is worth some of your pride. In any case, good luck, Fiona.”

  “Wait,” Fiona said. “Tell me one thing before you go, Donyo.”

  He turned, and it was only then that Fiona saw how worn and tired his face truly looked.

  “Why have you done so much to help me?”

  He smiled sadly. “You never asked me where I’m from. I’d have liked to have talked to you about that, if we had had the chance to get to know each other a bit better.”

  His words became an ache in her chest. She felt like she was going to be sick, and though she already knew the answer she had to ask.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Right outside of Haygarden’s walls.”

  There was only truth in the face that stared sadly at her.

  “You’ve made it to Sun Circle,” Fiona said. “How do you surround yourself with these bastards and not go mad?”

  Donyo Brownwater laughed bitterly while a reflection of the fire danced in his off-grey eyes. “It’s really not so bad,” he said. “As long as you know where to get a proper drink.”