Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (6 page)

“Stop it!” It was Alicine now, standing in
front of him, tears streaming down her face. The sight of her made
him realize how cruel his words had been, how horrible a person he
had become.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I—”

“It’s too late for sorry,” Haskel said. “It
won’t bring your father back.”

“Haskel, enough,” Vania said. “It’s not the
boy’s fault.”

“Of course it’s his fault. Who else’s could
it be?”

“Maybe the brother who was too afraid to go
into the cave,” Dayn said.

“Ye’ll apologize this instant for that
remark,” Haskel said.

“I won’t!” Dayn shot back. He wheeled toward
the door.

“If ye walk out that door, don’t bother
comin’ back!” Haskel said.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“I mean it, boy. And don’t expect anyone to
go after ye either.”

“Fine!”

Dayn swung open the door. The last thing he
heard before he slammed it behind him was his mother shouting,
“Dayn, no,” and his uncle declaring, “No one’s to leave this house
to go after him.” But Dayn didn’t care. He hated them all. Even
Alicine. She hadn’t defended him one whit. She’d just stood there.
Fine, he would leave and never come back. He’d only returned to
Kirador for her sake. Well, she was back; he hoped she was happy.
Now he could go back to Tearia where his real family was.

But then he realized, there was still Falyn
to consider; his love for her hadn’t changed. Maybe if he found her
and confessed his feelings. Yes, that’s what he would do. He’d
always been afraid to talk to her before, but no longer. He was a
man now, not a child. He had, after all, killed a guard in Tearia.
True he hadn’t meant to, but what about his leading an army to
rescue Reiv? That meant something, didn’t it? And what about
standing up to his uncle just now? He would never have been able to
do that before.

Dayn set his teeth with determination. He
would find Falyn and proclaim his love for her. He would prove to
her that he was brave and strong. He’d face her father to prove it
if he had to, even Sheireadan. Maybe then she would love him back.
Maybe then she’d agree to go to Tearia with him. Yes, he had a plan
now. And the girl of his dreams was about to learn of it.

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Chapter 5: Hope Springs Eternal

D
ayn crunched
through the forest clearing, steam puffing from his nostrils and
dissipating into the cold night air. He thrust his hands into his
pockets and hunched his neck into his collar, then noticed a thick
coppice of trees up ahead, just the sort of place a demon would
hide. Dayn’s feet slowed, but he scolded his own stupidity and
picked up his pace. He had enough problems without succumbing to
the whims of an overactive imagination. There was no such thing as
demons, at least not the kind he had been raised to fear. He would
do better to set his worries on a predator of a more human
nature.

He turned his thoughts inward, focusing on
that which was utmost on his mind: the argument he had had with his
uncle. It stoked the fire still burning in his belly, the only
warmth he could feel at the moment, but it was just the fuel he
needed if he was to continue his reckless quest.

He had detoured from the main road early on,
determined not to be met by friend or by foe. If Haskel came
looking for him, not that he would, he’d expect Dayn to have taken
the more-traveled route. But there was only one path Dayn had his
sites on at the moment, and that was the one that would lead him to
Falyn. Haskel would never suspect his destination; he couldn’t
possibly understand the longings of a young man’s heart. If his
uncle had ever felt such a thing for a woman, and Dayn could not
even imagine it, he surely would have forgotten it by now. Why,
Haskel had to be at least forty years—far too old for a man to
think of such things. Only Alicine would have a clue as to where
Dayn was heading and why, but she wasn’t likely to reveal it. She
wouldn’t risk placing new worries on their mother’s frail
shoulders. Guilt trickled into Dayn’s belly, threatening to
extinguish the flames that burned there. Had he really spoken to
his mother so cruelly?

A gust of air whipped around him, sending
chill bumps across his skin. He hugged his arms, no longer able to
fight the cold with anger alone. His muscles tensed. His stomach
rumbled. But what was he to do? The home he had grown up in was
gone; his father was missing and probably dead; his own sister had
not defended him; and his uncle thought him a demon—a demon! Then
there was the issue of Falyn. Was it wrong to feel about her the
way he did? Surely it was no sin, though a few thoughts in her
regard might be classified as such. But he loved her, and wasn’t
love the greatest gift of all? That was what the Written Word said,
and though Dayn now knew that words set to parchment were not
always true, he was confident that at least that much was.

He marched on, the springs couldn’t be much
further, and if fortune smiled on him, Falyn would be there when he
arrived. It wasn’t likely, of course, but his mother had said she’d
seen Falyn at the springs with Sheireadan and… Dayn felt his
insides wrench.
Sheireadan
—the very thought of him sent
Dayn’s teeth to grinding. The boy had tormented him for as long as
he could remember. And for what? Because Dayn looked different? Or
was there more to it? Dayn twisted his mouth as he contemplated
past events. Yes, why
had
Sheireadan always taken such issue
with him?

Dayn glanced ahead. A blanket of fog could be
seen hovering along the forest floor, a sure sign of the springs,
but it was the pungent smell of sulfur that assured him he had
arrived. Dayn turned his icy thoughts from Sheireadan. The waters
would be hot and steamy, and his feet were in need of a good
soak.

The healing properties of the springs bested
every medicinal known in Kirador. It was through them that
individuals eased their joint pains, lung ailments, and various
wasting diseases that no one could name. It was unfortunate that
the distance was such a burden on his mother, and that the presence
of others at the springs made her feel unwelcome. But then Dayn
recalled a time when he had been little; his mother had brought him
to the springs to heal an infection in his lungs. Other Kiradyns
had been there that day. He remembered how they had looked at him
then gathered their things and scurried away. The memory crawled
under his skin, but it also stoked his determination.
I have as
much right to be here as anyone else
, he told himself.

Dayn picked up his pace, suddenly aware of
two pillars towering before him: the gateway to the springs. He
walked between them, working to focus his eyes through the fog. To
his right, statues broke through the mist, their stone-cold faces
watching him as he passed. But their gazes caused him no fear; at
least their eyes didn’t judge. He stopped and looked around,
detecting no movement other than the slow ramble of mist at his
feet.

A gurgle sounded to his left, and he stepped
in that direction. A layer of haze hid the waters that rippled
beyond the stone-lined edge of the pool. Dayn squatted and dipped
in a hand, relishing the sting of warmth upon his fingers. He rose
and wiped his hand across his shirt as he trained his eyes across
the pool. It was as large as he remembered, able to accommodate
hundreds of people at a time. On three sides of it, structures were
situated: one a temple to Daghadar made of smooth pink marble;
another a series of wishing springs draped with arbors of leaf and
vine; the third a dressing area, constructed of carved cedar and
sectioned off to provide privacy.

Dayn scrutinized his surroundings. No sign of
Falyn, but what did he expect? He felt disappointed, but most of
all a keen sense of despair. What was he to do now? Wait here until
he starved, or trudge back to his uncle’s farm with his tail
between his legs? He could fathom neither, but right now a decision
could wait. There were warm waters to consider, and ten throbbing
toes trapped in miserable boots.

He bent to unwrap the leather straps that
coiled up his legs, but an unexpected sound gave him pause. His
mind raced—perhaps it was Falyn! But then another thought shoved
its way in. What if it was someone he would rather not meet up
with, like Sheireadan, or even worse, their father Lorcan?

Dayn eased toward the nearest pillar and
ducked behind it, then directed his attention toward the sound of
hushed voices on the opposite side of the pool. Two forms could be
seen emerging from the temple, picking their way toward the waters.
At first Dayn could barely make them out; they looked more like
apparitions than humans. A chill prickled his scalp, telling him to
head in the other direction, but the power of his curiosity rooted
him where he stood.

As the images came more into view, Dayn
realized that one was much taller than the other. Both wore long
cloaks, and their faces were hidden by the shadows of their hoods.
The taller one was hunched and limping, perhaps an old man come to
take a healing. The second appeared to be a woman guiding the man
toward the pool.

Soft words were spoken between them, but Dayn
could not decipher them. The couple stopped, and the man turned to
face the woman. His back was to the pool, as well as to Dayn on the
other side of it, and his silhouette all but swallowed the woman
standing on the opposite side of him. A slight movement of the
woman’s elbows was all that Dayn could make of her, but it soon
became apparent that she was unclasping the man’s tunic.

Dayn slid from his hiding place, his
curiosity goading him for a better look. He worked his way from
pillar to pillar, pausing behind each as he made his way nearer to
where the couple stood. He stepped lightly, praying his footsteps
would not betray his presence, but the careless snap of a twig
froze him in his tracks. His eyes darted toward the strangers, but
the casual murmur of their voices indicated they had not heard it.
He released a slow breath and settled his attention on a stone
half-wall nearby. It was an ideal place for viewing, and near
enough to the forest that Dayn could make a quick escape should he
need to. He wasn’t sure what there was to fear from a woman and a
crippled old man, but he had long since learned that people were
not always what they seemed.

Dayn reached the wall and slunk behind it. He
peeked over the ledge, his eyes alert. The man was still standing
before the woman, but now he was completely undressed and shivering
from the cold. The curves of the man’s backside were thick and
muscular, and his long dark hair was braided down his back. Clearly
this was not an old man, but a young one, and a badly damaged one
at that. His back, legs, and buttocks were mottled with angry
bruises, and his spine was angled in such a way as to suggest he
had been wounded. His hands were discreetly placed, and as he
worked his rumpled pants legs from his feet, his movements were
slow and stiff.

Dayn swallowed with uneasiness. For an
unclothed man to be standing before a woman was simply not
acceptable, especially not out in the open like this. Perhaps such
things were allowed in the privacy of a marital bedroom, but never
in a public place. Dayn felt shame as his attentions lingered on
the man’s nakedness, yet he could not turn his eyes away. His
masculine pride demanded a comparison.

The woman pushed back her hood and guided the
man to the pool. Dayn spun and threw his back against the wall.
“What sin is
this
?” he gasped. He rose to look upon the
couple once more, determined his eyes were playing some sort of
trick. But to his roiling discomfort, he realized they were not.
The woman by the pool was Falyn, and the shameless young man who
stood naked before her was none other than Sheireadan.

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Chapter 6: Sins of the Father

D
ayn felt as though
he had been kicked in the gut. The image of Falyn standing in front
of her brother like that, the boy’s nakedness flaunted before her,
was more than Dayn could stomach. A part of him wanted to purge it
into the bushes. The other part wanted to beat Sheireadan into a
bloody pulp. And yet, from the look of things, someone had already
beaten him to the punch.

Dayn eased his gaze back over the wall.
Sheireadan was working his way into the water, his battered body
turned in Dayn’s direction. Dayn kept his focus on Sheireadan’s
face, ordering his own eyes to roam no further. From the pain in
Sheireadan’s expression, and the angry bruise painted across his
cheek, his abuser had done a thorough job.

Sheireadan lost his balance for a moment, and
Falyn plunged into the water to assist him. Her skirt ballooned on
the surface as she grabbed his elbow to right him. “This is far
enough,” she said, her voice amplified across the water.

“What are you doing!” Sheireadan snapped.
“Father will know for sure now.”

Falyn looked distressed, then set her face
with resolution. “I’ll just shove my wet clothes under the laundry
pile before he has a chance to see them.”

“What about the smell of the water? How are
you going to disguise
that
? I swear, Falyn. What was the
point in me stripping down to nothing if you’re going to plunge
into the water like a fool.”

“Enough. It’s done,” Falyn said crossly.

“Well you’re going to freeze before we even
get home. Did you think about that?”

“I’ll wear your cloak,” she replied. Then she
grinned. “Did you think about
that
?”

“
Fine
,” Sheireadan grumbled. He turned
away from her and took a step. “I need to go deeper.”