“You bring your sons with you to surrender?” Jedren asked, thinking of his tiny daughter, safe and snug with his wife and a contingent of guards to protect them.
“They will one day lead our town together. I don’t keep them from the realities of the world, my lord,” the man said, his head still bowed, his forehead nearly touching his bent knee.
Jedren waved a hand, was about to accept their service and inform them of the tax, when the boy on the right’s eyes darted up and met his. Jedren froze, his insides turning to ice.
“Stand up.” The boy looked hesitantly from side to side. “Yes, you.”
He stood, staring down at his feet with wide eyes.
“Look at me,” Jedren said.
Reluctantly, the boy’s eyes lifted and met Jedren’s again. He hadn’t imagined it. They were dark. They might have been blue once, but now smoky shadows passed through them.
Ryn gasped. “My lord—”
“I see it, Ryn.”
“Forgive me, sire, what is the trouble?” the grey-haired leader asked. “If my sons’ presence disturbs you, I will have them leave.”
Jedren swallowed. Why does it have to be a child? I can’t kill a child. He’d begun to hope there weren’t any dark-eyed men in the world after all. He looked more closely at the boy, whose wide, black eyes stared up at him in terror, tears welling in them. It was undeniable. I can’t.
Something flickered in the child’s face. What is that? The boy looked down, tears spilling onto the floor. But there was something there. Am I imagining it? That’s not the look of a child. There must be a reason the god of death wanted those with dark eyes killed.
“The god of death accepts your service,” Jedren said slowly. “But... you must leave your son here with me.” I’ll ask him. I’ll find out. If he’s really a child, truly innocent, I’ll let him go.
“Wh—what’s that, my lord?” The man’s cheeks were hollow, the bones stood out through his flesh.
“Your son has dark eyes.”
“Oh, no,” the father said, his face relaxing. “You can see his twin there. They both have light blue eyes, like mine.”
“Look again, sir,” Jedren said.
The man looked briefly, gave his son a comforting nod and touched his cheek gently.
“It must be a trick of the light. He’s always had light eyes.”
“I’m sorry,” Jedren said. “I must take your son.”
The boy’s eyes widened further, and he stumbled back a step. “Father?”
“Don’t worry son.” The man turned to Jedren. “Please, sir, there must be some mistake. My son has done nothing.”
“He has dark eyes. My instructions from Yqtos are very clear.”
Shaking, the man stood, his companions following suit. They closed ranks around the two boys, beginning to back away, heading in the direction of the exit.
I can’t let you leave. That’s the one thing I can’t do. Don’t make me kill all of you. “Think carefully about what you are doing,” Jedren said quietly. “Think carefully about exactly who you are defying, and what will happen to the rest of the people in your town.”
The determination in the old man’s eyes faltered. His gaze swept the room, travelling over the contingent of soldiers, weapons at the ready.
“Even aside from that, you won’t make it out of here alive.”
The old man swallowed and licked his lips, his eyes darting left and right. The boy behind him began to cry. His brother took his hand.
“I won’t let you take my son. He’s done nothing wrong. We came here in good faith, to pledge our service.”
“I understand. But this is what your service requires.”
The man’s hand went to his side, but there was no weapon hanging there. As he did, a small hand landed on his. The dark-eyed boy pushed past his father, through the line of men protecting him.
“It’s OK, father. I’ll go.” His throat bobbed, and his small fists clenched.
The man held up a hand to stop him.
“No, son. This was the wrong choice in the first place. Just because we are not strong enough to stand up to evil doesn’t mean we have the luxury of giving in to it.”
Jedren’s fists clenched. But he would forgive the man his insult. He was protecting his son, Jedren could understand that. “Remember that I serve God.”
“You serve one of the gods,” the old man said.
He pulled his sons to his sides, then glanced at the men on his left and right. “You are free to go, or to side with him,” he said. Their only response was turning to face the soldiers who were closing in.
He won’t give up his son. Of course he wouldn’t, who would? Jedren looked into the man’s light eyes for several seconds. You should have left your son with me. I might have spared him. If he was truly innocent. If you are fighting me, you must know. You must know there is something wrong with him. Something the god of death knows.
Jedren’s arms felt heavy as he stood, but he could already feel the dark power uncurling inside of him.
Afterwards, they threw the bodies into the sea.
The next dark-eyed person that was brought to Jedren was also a child, a girl around five years old. This one, Jedren took to a back room alone.
“Why does Yqtos want you dead?” he asked, staring into the girl’s strange eyes.
“I don’t know.” Her eyes were wide, her voice high, but something flickered in there, some intelligence that was more than that of a child.
Jedren patted her on the head, smoothing her straw-colored hair.
“I have a daughter, just like you, and I don’t want to hurt you. All you need to do is tell me the truth, all right? Tell me what you know.”
The girl’s eyes darted left, then down. She was hiding something. His heart fluttered; was this some kind of demon? Some unnatural creature the gods needed his help to fight? Her eyes fell on something near his waist. Before he could stop her, her tiny arm reached out, grabbed the dagger from his belt, and thrust it into her stomach.
She collapsed without a sound, blood pooling around her, and Jedren stumbled forward, a strangled gasp issuing from his throat. He pulled off his tunic, pressing it to the wound. With one hand he cradled her head.
“Please, tell me what you are,” he said, but her eyes were already closing, the light fading from them.
Even as she died, Jedren felt the familiar joy, the pulse of pleasure at death. He closed his eyes, sickened, and looked away.
33
Coralie
“See that?” Paric said, bending down and pointing towards a tiny speck on the horizon.
“Yes.” Coralie leaned onto the rail and squinted into the wind.
“That’s Kreiss. Largest city in Mimros.”
Coralie’s stomach swooped. “How long until we get there?” How long until she and Lilianna could be on their own again? From the other end of the deck she heard Aron say something, and Lilianna’s answering snort of laughter.
“Few hours, if the wind holds.”
Please, Onera, let the wind hold.
The speck grew to the size of a metal shaving, then a piece of a charcoal, then an anvil. Coralie sat on the edge of the deck, her legs over the side, kicking her heels against the hull and trying to ignore Lilianna’s laughter. Apparently she wasn’t worried Aron was going to kidnap them anymore. She shook herself. Enough. No more moping. The voice of her grandmother, warm even in reprimand, went through her mind.
She looked down at her clothes. Clean enough, but they could be cleaner. She went below deck, changed into a fresh dress, got a bucket of water and a bar of soap, and set about scrubbing the rest of her clothes clean.
After she had hung them to dry, she stuck her head in a bucket, scrubbing the grime away. Refreshed, she moved to sit at the prow, untangling and then braiding her damp hair and watching the island approach.
The deck creaked behind her, and Lilianna settled down next to her.
“Aron says this is it.”
>
Coralie repressed a grimace. “That’s what Paric said, too.”
It grew larger and larger, sheer, rocky cliffs rising out of the sea. They were approaching an enormous bay. The arms of the bay reached out into the ocean, protectively encircling a large harbor.
“How many people do you think live there?” Lilianna asked idly.
“Hundreds?” It was the most she could imagine, but even that seemed implausible. As they grew closer, though, she began to realize what a huge underestimate that was.
Hundreds of black stone buildings, docks extending out into the water, stone quays along the shore, cobblestone streets, multi-story homes with thatched roofs. She tried counting and gave up.
A shout startled her out of her reverie. “State your names and business here!” A large boat filled with heavily armed men had pulled up alongside them. Aron, flanked by Gird and Paric, went to speak with them. Lilianna moved towards Coralie.
Coralie scanned the harbor a second time. Her eyes lifted to examine the bluff. A watchtower. They must have seen them coming hours ago.
Coralie followed Lilianna down to the middle of the deck, where Aron addressed the soldiers.
His tone was calm and polite, his smile wide and disarming. “I am Aron de Tamley; these are my servants, Gird and Paric. And these are my guests Lilianna and Coralie of Harfoss. We would like to purchase goods in your market.”
“You got papers?”
“Papers?”
“Proving you’re a de Tamley.”
“I’ve never been asked for my papers before.”
“Well, I’m asking now.”
“I apologize, sir. I do not have my papers.”
“Then you and the girls stand over there while we search your vessel.”
“We’re just here to visit the—”
“I don’t care if you’re here for a nude run through the business district. Stand over there.” The man placed his hands on the gunwale and heaved himself up onto the deck. Two of his men followed suit. Aron took a step back. Paric’s knees bent slightly, but Aron laid a light hand on his arm.
Three of the men herded them together and stood, weapons drawn, while the other four stomped down the steps. Coralie could hear them crashing around in the hold, knocking things over. Several minutes later they came up carrying a large burlap sack.
“We’ve confiscated these items. You can have them back when you leave.”
“May I see what you’ve confiscated?” Aron asked quietly.
The soldier upended the bag, and three crossbows, two scimitars, several assorted daggers—including some of Coralie’s—a small vial, two cudgels, and a halberd clattered to the deck. Paric made a movement towards them but Aron held him back.
“Enjoy your stay.” The soldiers collected the weapons, climbed back into their boat, and sculled off.
Paric rounded on Aron. “Those were mine.”
“You’ll get them back. And better, if you want them.”
“They had no right.”
“They must be worried about the raiders,” Coralie said.
“Makes sense, if they keep provoking people like this,” Paric muttered. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, feeling around for something, but dropped them, his face falling. “It’s not right. Leaving a man without his weapons.”
Coralie could feel the cool steel of the dagger she still had sewn into her sleeve. Paric looked so forlorn, and he was probably the one best equipped to use it. She hesitated for only a moment, then ripped the bit of thread holding it in place and slipped the dagger into her hand.
“Here,” she said, holding it towards him handle-first.
He let out a bark of laughter. “Well, gambler, have you had this on you the whole time?” He looked at her in surprise, and with a newfound respect he took the dagger from her and held it up, examining the blade and feeling the heft of it. “This is a nice piece, where did you get it?”
“She made it,” Lilianna said, when Coralie hesitated.
“Is that right?” The respect in Paric’s face grew. “Well, thank you.” He sheathed the dagger and tucked it into a pocket. “After all that, might as well go into town, eh?” He glanced at Lilianna. “Unless you two are planning to just head off alone?”
Lilianna looked at Coralie. Coralie tried to hide how desperate she was for them to be alone again.
“Aron, you’ve been here before, right?” Lilianna said.
“Many times.”
“Want to show us around?”
Coralie’s stomach sank.
He smiled and bowed. “It would be my pleasure.” Then he paused, looking thoughtfully up into the sky. “Actually, Paric, this is as good a time as any. Why don’t you and Gird go build a shrine while we’re here?”
“You sure?” Paric asked, eyeing the soldiers patrolling the wharf.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Aron assured him. “They’ve got bigger problems. They won’t bother us.” Aron leaned in and whispered something to Paric.
Paric shrugged. “All right.”
“I shall spend some time below deck…” Gird said. “Rearranging certain… items.”
Paric stared at him, then clearly decided it wasn’t worth the effort, threw up his hands and went to guide them in to port.
They found an empty slip, and when Paric had secured their boat to the dock, they all disembarked. Coralie waved at Gird and Paric as she, Aron, and Lilianna prepared to go.
“Want me to bring you anything?” she asked.
“My weapons,” Paric growled.
“Lemon cordial, if you can find it,” Gird said, clasping his slim hands. “Thank you.”
“Lemon cordial,” Coralie repeated. “Got it.”
Lilianna and Aron were already moving down the dock, and Coralie ran to catch up. Aron pointed something out to Lilianna, touching her shoulder in a way that made Coralie’s stomach tighten. She slowed, following at a short distance, trying not to look.
Luckily, there was plenty to distract her.
They made their way up a wide street of sun-drenched cobblestones. A group of children darted past, shouting and laughing as they chased a dog. A man appeared in front of them, holding up a bolt of bright turquoise cloth.
“Finest silk, sir, imported from Volaria. No one else has it.”
Aron smiled but waved the man away. “No thank you.”
The man moved closer. “Look at this weave, you can’t even see the threads. Feel it.” He tried to thrust the cloth into Aron’s hands.
“No, thank you,” Aron said, his tone firm, but still smiling. The man looked like he was going to say something more.
“I feel like you’re forgetting something,” Aron added.
The man began to protest, then stopped, lifting his hand to his forehead.
“Oh gods,” he said, and turned and rushed away.
“So,” Aron said, “where to first? The market is up this way.”
Coralie watched the man’s retreating form, bemused, but didn’t say anything.
34
Lilianna
Lilianna had always avoided the market at home. It barely even deserved the name, it was so small, but it was a place where people gathered to buy and sell things, and not only could she never buy anything, but everyone knew she couldn’t. Which meant that wherever she went suspicious eyes had followed. Anything for sale, anything sitting on a table was something she couldn’t have. Buying things was something other people did. When her mother had been alive, there had sometimes been money, and sometimes they’d gone to the market together, and those days had been good. But all purchases were small, and necessary, and made with anxiety.
So, when they entered the market in Kreiss, Lilianna’s stomach clenched and her steps grew heavier, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off the stalls. One was stacked four feet high with lumpy grey candles. A small woman with large eyes peeked out at them from between the stacks. Next to her a meaty man with a booming laugh was juggling small yellow apples, watched by
a trio of children who laughed and clapped, then ran to their parents, tugging them over insistently. Their parents grudgingly paid him for a sack of fruit and continued with their shopping.
Something bright caught Lilianna’s eye. Metallic beads glittering on strings, hanging from an awning. Aron caught her looking and took her hand, pulling her towards them.
“See anything you like?” he asked.
There were bracelets of smooth white fragments—bone, she realized, and others of braided leather. One with copper loops cinching several braided strands tight caught her eye. The merchant was watching them knowingly. He picked up the bracelet and held it out to her.
“Try it on.”
She took in gingerly, something deep in her gut saying, ‘don’t take it.’ But she’d seen the boxes of gold Aron had stashed away. And the amethyst he’d just happened upon. He wasn’t likely to run out of money.
Her mind shifted and she took the bracelet, fastened it over her tan wrist. It looked good, the copper catching the light.
“I like it,” she said.
“We’ll take it,” Aron said. “Anything else?”
She glanced at him, then pointed at a delicate gold chain inlaid with small dark blue stones.
“We’ll take that, too,” he said to the shopkeeper, who appeared to be unsuccessfully suppressing his elation.
“The lady has good taste,” he said, then he pulled a leather box from below the table. “I don’t keep this out, it’s not for everyone.” He opened the box, revealing a silver bracelet with rubies carved into the shapes of roses. Lilianna gaped. That must be worth enough to buy a small town.
Aron was watching her expression. “We’ll take that, too,” he said. “Coralie, would you like anything?”
Death of the Immortal King Page 19
