Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One (22 page)

He then spotted Gair. The dark profile of the
huge man loomed over the rest. His powerful arms beat back guards
as his voice boomed with every stroke he took. Dayn worked his way
toward the smith, swinging his sword in a circular swath. His
attention was caught by the shadowy form of a Jecta backed against
a nearby wall, and a guard with a sword positioned for the kill.
Dayn called out and rushed in their direction, but he was too
late--the blade found its mark.

Dayn threw himself against the guard and
knocked him forward. The man crashed against the wall, then fell to
the ground, sprawled across his victim. Dayn grabbed the guard and
rolled him over, kicking the sword from his hand. The guard stared
up at him, his pale eyes reflecting the hatred behind them. Dayn
gasped and took a startled step back. It was Crymm. And lying next
to him was Reiv.

Dayn thrust the tip of his sword to Crymm’s
throat. “You would kill your own prince?” he screamed.

Crymm stared up at him with fear in his eyes,
but then Crymm looked past him toward a presence at Dayn’s
back.

Dayn risked a glance over his shoulder and
was relieved to see it was Torin. He kept his sword pointed at
Crymm. “This scoundrel has caused us trouble for the last time,” he
said. “Watch him for me; Reiv’s been hurt!”

Torin planted a knee on Crymm’s chest and
held the tip of his knife within an inch of the man’s terrified
eyes. “Don’t move a single lash,” Torin said, “or you’ll never see
the light of day again.”

Dayn dropped to his knees and ran his hand
along Reiv’s chest. It became coated with blood.

“You’re going to be all right,” Dayn said,
glancing around for something to stop the bleeding.

“I am fine,” Reiv mumbled.

Jensa was soon at his side, inspecting the
gash beneath Reiv’s ribs. Alicine rushed over and threw herself
down next to them. She ripped a swath of material from her skirt
and handed it to Jensa. Jensa pressed it to the wound.

“We have to get him out of here,” Dayn said.
He lifted Reiv into his arms, surprised at how light he was. Reiv
muttered a complaint, but his head lolled back and he protested no
more.

The Tearian forces retreated into the night,
gone to retrieve more Guard, or perhaps to plan an assault for
another day. It was quiet now, except for soft sobs and the sounds
of the survivors picking through the carnage. There were many
dead—Jectas, Shell Seekers, and Tearians—but there was only one
guard left alive in the street, and that was Crymm. Torin grabbed
him up and shoved him into the shadows, while Dayn and the others
made their way in the opposite direction.

They did not take Reiv to Nannaven’s. That
would be the first place the Guard searched were they to come
looking for him. Instead they took him to Mya, a young widow who
had been friends with Jensa for many years. When they arrived, she
ushered them in quickly and without question. Mya directed Dayn,
still carrying Reiv, to a bed covered by a quilt of mismatched
patterns. As he laid Reiv down, she ran to a shelf and grabbed some
clean cloths and a bowl that she filled with water from a nearby
bucket.

Dayn stood next to the bed, watching Mya’s
face as she ripped Reiv’s tunic from his chest. She was an
attractive woman, he noticed, but had a worrisome scar on her face,
a dark red ridge that ran from eye to upper lip. There was no time
to contemplate her further, however, for she promptly shooed him
away and motioned Jensa to the bed.

As Dayn stepped aside, he realized the room
was more a shop than a home. There were pottery wheels and lumps of
clay, and tables of urns and vessels along every wall and in every
corner. A single lantern hung from the center beam and bathed the
area in a golden glow. Cots could be seen along the far wall where
three children slept.

A dark-haired boy of about nine rose from
beneath his blanket, blinking at the sudden commotion. “Back to
sleep, Farris,” Mya commanded. The boy opened his mouth to protest,
but a flash of his mother’s eyes backed him down immediately.

Dayn peered over Jensa’s shoulder at the
gaping wound now revealed. It looked menacing, but did not seem to
have caused major damage to Reiv’s internal workings. The greatest
risk was of infection. Jensa rose and Alicine took her place to
help clean out the contaminants. Mya handed her cloth after cloth,
while Jensa brought fresh water each time the bowl became red. When
the bleeding finally slowed, Mya pulled a few bottles of potion
from a nearby cabinet.

Dayn paced back and forth, his attentions
vacillating between his injured cousin and other thoughts deep and
troubling.

“He’s not going to die, Dayn,” Jensa said,
recognizing his anxiety. “Agneis would not have sent him back only
to have him killed so soon. Reiv has a purpose. Perhaps this was
meant to happen.”

“
Meant
to happen?” Dayn said. “Reiv
was meant to lead us. That’s what was meant to happen, not
this!”

Reiv moaned as Alicine dabbed at the wound.
He slapped her hand away.

“Good! Stubborn as ever,” she said.

Dayn marched to the bed and leaned over Reiv.
“What were you thinking, going and getting yourself stabbed again.
And by Crymm, of all people. I swear, I can’t leave you for a
minute!”

“You do not have to shout,” Reiv said. He
struggled to raise himself on an elbow and frowned at Alicine’s
probing fingers. “Gods, girl. Do you have to be so rough?”

“Stop your complaining,” she said. “Do you
want this to fester?” She pushed him back down and poured a cool
liquid into the wound. It fizzed a foamy pink.

“Well, I
mean
to shout,” Dayn said,
diverting Reiv’s attention back to him. “You actually deserve far
worse than this, you know. How are you supposed to lead a rebellion
if you’re confined to a bed?”

“I am not supposed to lead a rebellion, fool.
You are.”

“Can he be taken with fever so soon?” Dayn
asked Alicine. “He’s speaking gibberish.”

Reiv captured Dayn’s attention with a
piercing stare. “I am not speaking gibberish. The Unnamed One is to
lead them.”

“And that would be you,” Dayn said.

“No, Keefe, that would be you.”

Dayn jabbed his finger in Reiv’s direction.
“Don’t try to shove your responsibilities off on me,
Ruairi
.
I’m no leader, and I’m certainly no warrior. I just killed a man
and have no intention of ever doing it again.”

“Dayn,” Reiv said, “not all wars are won at
the end of a sword, but if it is swords that are needed—”

“I told you. I’m no warrior! You’re the one
who’s supposed to do this, Reiv, not me. You! You’re the one who
was a prince. You’re the one trained for battle. You’ve even spoken
with a goddess for goodness sakes. I’m just a nobody from Kirador
who used to get his tail kicked on a regular basis. What sort of
warrior is that?”

“Maybe the sort of warrior we need,” Reiv
said.

“No! I’m not who you think I am!” Dayn turned
and stormed toward the door, then paused and barked over his
shoulder, “I hope you have some strong medicine, Mya, because it
looks like he’s going to need it.” Then he left, slamming the door
behind him.

Alicine jumped up and followed Dayn out. She
found him around the side of the building, his back braced against
the wall, muttering to himself.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“No, I’m not all right!”

“Look, Dayn, I know you’re upset about all
that’s happened, but—“

“But what? But I only killed a man? One
minute I’m standing there and the next thing I know I’m plunging a
sword into his chest. I don’t even know who he was.”

“It was him or you. You were only defending
yourself.”

“Maybe I could have done something different.
What right did I have to kill him?”

“You reacted the way anyone would. Are you
saying you would have given your own life to spare that of a
stranger coming at you?”

“No, but…”

“What did you think all those weapons you
made were going to be used for? Did you expect no blood to be
shed?”

“Well, I didn’t think I was going to be the
one to shed it! And now Reiv’s in there, wounded. This is too
much.”

“You know it isn’t over. You wanted to help.
Now’s your chance.”

Dayn shook his head. “I don’t know if I have
it in me, Alicine. And this nonsense Reiv’s saying about me being
some sort of leader. He’s the brave one, not me.”

“You’re every bit as brave as he is,” Alicine
said. “I know you are.”

“No. I’ve had enough. Let’s go home…back to
Kirador… tomorrow. I’ll take you back tomorrow.”

“We can’t go back tomorrow.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to have
anything to do with this. You’ve sure changed your tune.”

“A female’s prerogative,” Alicine said. She
offered an encouraging smile. “Reiv will be fine, you’ll see. But
we have to stay and see this through. You know that.”

Dayn nodded reluctantly. “Yes, I know it. But
I sure wish I didn’t.”

* * * *

Reiv stared up from the bed at Mya. She was
standing behind Jensa, handing her fresh cloths one at a time, her
attention fully focused on the wound. Reiv could not seem to remove
his gaze from her, but she had yet to allow her eyes to meet his.
He suddenly recognized the unusual color of them—one brown, one
blue—and an uneasy memory swept through him.

“We have met before,” he said.

Jensa looked between the two of them and
rose. “I’m going to go check on Dayn. Mya, will you take over for a
moment?” Mya nodded and Jensa slipped quietly out the door.

Mya pulled the blood-spotted cloth from
Reiv’s wound and pressed a clean one onto it. “I’m surprised you
remember.”

Reiv remained silent for a moment, then said,
“It was a long time ago.”

“Yes.”

“I am sorry about...that day.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said
“You did nothing wrong.”

“My father seemed to think I did.”

“And you were backhanded for it as I
recall.”

Reiv winced at the memory. “My father had
brought my brother and me to Pobu to see the ‘enemy’ as he called
you all. I was only seven. I remember a guard pulling you out of
the crowd and marching you over to us. I should have protested, but
I just sat there on my horse and said nothing.”

“You were a child. What more could you
do?”

“Well, apparently I did more than was
expected.”

“That you did,” Mya said. “I remember
standing next to your horse, my arm wrenched behind me by a guard,
looking up at the face of a little boy with big responsibilities.
But what I remember most was your eyes as you stared down at me.
They didn’t hold a look of superiority or disgust…not like your
father’s. It was something else. Then you touched my face.” Mya
sighed. “I always felt sad about what happened, your father
backhanding you like that.”

“Well, if it is any comfort to you, my father
never struck me again. My cheek was bruised for a week, and he
worried grievously for it. The guards did not harm you, did they? I
do not recall the scar.”

“Don’t concern yourself,” she said.

Reiv’s heart filled with guilt. Mya must have
recognized it, for she said, “No matter what your father’s guards
did, I always felt somewhat fortunate to have been selected that
day.”

“Whatever for? You were so beautiful…I
mean…you still are, but…”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me,” she said. “I
would prefer not to have a scar across my face, but it never kept
me from being loved. I had a fine man for a while. Eben. Do you
know of him?”

“He was a friend of Jensa and Torin. A potter
wasn’t he?”

“Yes. He was there the day you and I met,”
she said with a smile. “Torin was, too. Did you know that? You were
lucky the two of them didn’t kill you right then and there. They
always blamed you for what happened to me. Those two, great
friends, but friends who rarely agreed on anything. But they agreed
on one thing that day: had one of them allowed the other to defend
me, I would have been left with no one to scold for their
stupidity.”

“No wonder Torin hated me. I guess I cannot
blame him.”

“Well,” Mya said, “he does not hate you
now.”

“You said you felt fortunate. Considering
what they did to you, I cannot help but wonder why.”

“I was terrified, of course. But you know,
for some strange reason I have always carried the image of you with
me. When I looked into your eyes, I was certain I saw compassion
there. It gave me hope that things could get better when you were
King.”

Reiv turned his face to the wall, his role in
her disfigurement weighing heavy on his mind. “I fear I would have
let you down, then,” he said. “If I had not been damaged, I would
be walking the same path as my father.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

Reiv turned his face to hers. “How can you be
so sure?”

“Because your path was decided a long time
ago. And you are walking it.”

BACK TO ToC

Chapter 21: Call to War

T
wo days had passed
since the raid, and there wasn’t a single person who hadn’t heard
of it. The number of dead was thirty-eight: twenty-eight Jecta, six
Shell Seekers, and four Tearians. The guards were not included in
the count, their bodies scavenged and tossed into the trash heap
outside of town. Talk abounded amongst the Jecta that this was a
call to war. Now all they needed was a battle plan and someone to
lead them in it.

The weapons that miraculously appeared the
night of the meeting had, luckily, been smuggled there in advance
by Gair. He was not a man to take any chances. The fifty-one
assorted daggers, knives, and swords that he and Dayn had made were
now officially initiated by blood and distributed into Jecta hands.
Dozens of Tearian swords had also been confiscated during the fight
and were now assigned new owners along with twenty or so Guard
horses.