Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One (8 page)

Reiv stared at the food and felt certain his
face had gone gray. He reached for the bread and brought it slowly
to his lips, then forced it into his mouth. “Where is Nannaven?” he
asked between stiff chews.

“At Market. She told us to stay here with
you.”

“You asked if I remembered Brina last night.
I recall some of it, but I think I will need reminding. My head is
a bit muddled at the moment.”

Dayn took his place on the bench across from
him. “What do you remember?”

Before Reiv had a chance to organize his
thoughts, Alicine poked her head through the door. “May I come in
now?” she asked.

“If you insist,” Reiv said. He saw her face
fall. “I mean…I am in a foul mood this morning, Alicine. You might
find the company of wasps preferable.”

Alicine smiled. “Well, I deserve a dose of
your foul mood considering the dose of my temper you received
yesterday.”

“As I recall, that was the catalyst for my
stupidity last night,” Reiv said.

“I’m sorry,” Alicine said.

Reiv dismissed her apology with a wave of his
hand. “No more apologies between us…agreed? Market is only two
days. We had best enjoy what time we have together. Maybe later,
when I am feeling better, we can get out of the house.”

Alicine and Dayn exchanged looks of
apprehension. This did not go unnoticed by Reiv. “What is going
on?” he asked suspiciously.

“You have to stay in…Nannaven gave us
orders,” Dayn said.

“Stay in? Why? Is it not a beautiful day?”
Reiv rose from the bench and walked to the window. He pushed open
the shutter, squinting against the sunlight, then turned to face
them. “You said I have to stay in…what about you?” he asked,
realizing Dayn’s words.

“We need to talk,” Dayn said. “Sit, Reiv.
Your legs are still wobbly, and after you hear what I have to say
you might find them even more so.”

Reiv did as Dayn suggested, then stared his
cousin full in the face, working to prepare his already aching head
for some obviously unwelcome news.

Dayn took a steadying breath. “Brina came
last night, but she only stayed a short time. A strange series of
events has been taking place in Tearia and it involves you. Do you
remember her telling you about the Unnamed One?”

Reiv frowned and tilted his head. “Yes, but I
thought I must have dreamed it. She said something about people
thinking I am the person spoken of in some old prophecy. But that
prophecy is nothing more than a children’s tale told at bedtime.
Nothing to be taken seriously.”

“Well, the Priestess is taking it seriously.
It seems she expected you to simply fade away in Pobu, but you’ve
done quite the opposite in the hearts and minds of your
followers.”

“Followers?” Reiv laughed. “I have no
followers. Is this some sort of joke?”

“It’s no joke,” Dayn said, his eyes growing
wider. “Last night when you went to the tavern, you could have been
in terrible danger. Fortunately you weren’t harmed, but that
doesn’t mean one of the Temple’s spies didn’t see you there. You
can’t risk being seen again. You have to stay hidden.”

“So I am to hide from the world for fear of
some ridiculous superstition? And what happens when I return to
Meirla? Am I to crouch in Jensa’s hut like a coward? Or am I to be
flanked night and day by bodyguards, never to have a moment’s
privacy? Listen, Dayn, I am finally beginning to get my life
together and I will not have it ruined by this nonsense. I do not
believe in prophecies. They are for desperate people who have no
hope left in their sorry lives, people who will grasp at anything,
even lies and children’s stories. You tell whoever needs to be told
that I am not the person they seek in their so-called prophecy.
They need to forget this foolishness once and for all and leave me
in peace.”

“It’s not so simple. You can’t ignore it, and
denying it will not change minds so easily. Besides, there’s more.”
Dayn folded his hands on the tabletop and stared down at them for a
moment. “There’s a movement here in Pobu. It’s been going on
quietly for a long time, but interest is gaining, especially now
that there are some in Tearia who will lend their support.”

Reiv narrowed his eyes. “What sort of
movement?”

“A movement of Jecta who are tired of Tearian
oppression. They’ve been meeting secretly for years, but during the
past several months their energy has been renewed. What happened to
you was unprecedented, Reiv. Though the rulers of Tearia may deny
it, it shook their powers to the core. For the Jecta, it was seen
as a weakening of the royal line. For the Tearians who support you,
it’s taken on the embodiment of a prophecy. You’ve given them
hope.”

“I give them nothing!” Reiv said. “How can
you sit there and tell me this like it is good news? They are
traitors—all of them.”

“Then I’m a traitor too,” Dayn said.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m going to help them. Ever
since I started working with Gair at the smithy, we’ve been—”

Reiv threw himself up from the bench. “You
come here from someplace else, totally unaware of our existence,
much less our ways, and within a month’s time you’ve banded with a
gang of radicals whose sole aim is to challenge Tearian authority?
What right do you have to involve yourself in such a thing?”

“I have every right!” Dayn said, rising to
meet him. “Have you forgotten that I was born Tearian? Have you
forgotten that because of your long line of priestesses my own
mother was forced to either kill me or abandon me? I’ve spent the
past sixteen years of my life in a world where I didn’t belong,
with parents who lied to me and people who hated me. I was bullied
and beaten up and made to feel worthless. Are you saying I deserved
it? Are you saying that children like me—or like Kerrik—don’t
deserve to know their own parents and be loved by them? Are you
saying that because your hands are scarred you don’t deserve your
family? God, Reiv, what loyalty do you owe Tearia?”

“Obviously more than you owe Kirador.”

“You’re wrong. I’m not Kiradyn, I know this.
They treated me as badly as the Tearians treat the Jecta here. But
it was my home for sixteen years, and there are people there that I
love. Kirador has its own problems. They are bound by superstition
and beliefs based on half-truths. The moral leaders have too much
power, just as some of the landowners do. There are disputes over
water rights and hunting territories. The judicial system is
unbalanced, based on who owns the most. I could go on and on. If
someday I can make a change for the better in Kirador, I’ll do it.
But I’m not in Kirador right now; I’m here. And here is where I can
make a difference at the moment.”

“You know nothing about how things work here.
You know only what the Jecta have told you.”

“What I do know is that the Jecta have no
rights. They are not allowed to own property and must work the land
for the Tearians in order to gather scraps from the harvest.” Dayn
took a step toward Reiv and fixed his gaze upon him. “But you know
all this, don’t you? You were a foreman, and worked your crew from
sunrise to sunset. Were they ever paid for their services? Or even
thanked? How much of the harvest were they allowed to keep?”

“They were given enough,” Reiv said
defensively. “They welcomed it.”

“Do you honestly believe that? They can
barely feed their families, Reiv. They aren’t allowed to hunt the
forests. The best they can hope for is a carcass left behind by the
Tearians. How many mouths does that feed? They can’t carry weapons.
Even their tools are eyed with suspicion. Surely you don’t condone
this.”

Reiv said nothing and held his expression in
check. As much as he knew Dayn’s words were true, a part of him was
unable to turn his back on his own heritage.

“Whether you approve of my decision or not,”
Dayn said, “I intend to join them in their fight to make things
better.”

“And just how do you plan to do that?” Reiv
asked.

“I spent many an hour hiding in a
blacksmith’s shop in Kiradyn and learned much about metal work.
There I learned how to fashion spear tips and knives for hunting.
Here I’m making daggers and swords so the Jecta can defend
themselves.”

“You are breaking the law and it will not go
unnoticed! By the gods I shall have Gair’s head for involving you
in this.” Reiv aimed his finger at Dayn threateningly. “Mark my
words, Dayn, you will soon find yourself back behind bars. But next
time your sentence will be far worse.”

“Then I have to risk it. Listen, Reiv, I know
this is hard for you to understand, but I had hoped that in telling
you I would have your trust and support.”

“Well, you have neither. You are not the
cousin I thought you were, and now I see you are not the
friend.”

Alicine, who had remained silent, rose and
stood to face him.

“You’re wrong, Reiv,” she said. “I don’t like
Dayn’s involvement in this either. Not because I think he’s wrong,
but because I’m afraid for him. You know I would have him out of
here in a heartbeat, but he’s determined to see this through. He
doesn’t do this to betray Tearia. Don’t forget he is Tearian. He
does this to make it better. You, of all people, should understand
the need for change. Will you turn your back on Tearia when so many
are turning to you now? What about your friends in Pobu and Meirla?
Think what
they’ve
had to endure. Remember who it is that
turns to you, Reiv, and who it is that turns against you. Then you
can judge who’s friend and who’s foe.”

Reiv lifted his chin defiantly and moved
toward the door. “I need to be alone to think.”

But Dayn stepped in front of him, folding his
arms across his chest. “Then you will think here.”

“Out of my way,” Reiv barked. “I will not be
locked up like a thief!”

“Then you will be locked up like someone too
stupid for his own good,” Dayn said.

The door burst open and Jensa and Torin blew
in, neither waiting for an invitation.

“Good, you are up,” Jensa said. “Gather your
things, Reiv. We are leaving.”

“What? Now? But I thought—”

“Something’s happened and we don’t know what
the repercussions will be,” Torin said. “We need to get you out of
here, now.”

“What’s happened?” Dayn asked. “What about
Market?”

“Cancelled.” Jensa said.

“Cancelled? But why?” Reiv asked.

“Dayn,” Jensa said, “will you retrieve the
bundle Brina brought for Reiv last night.”

Dayn nodded and headed for a cupboard against
the wall where he pulled out the parcel. He handed it to Reiv.
“Here, Reiv. Brina brought us our things last night and she brought
this for you.”

“Our things?”

“Yes, you know, Alicine’s dress and my
‘bottoms’.” Dayn forced a laugh. “And your sword.”

“My sword? The Lion Sword?” Reiv’s jaw
dropped. “How did she get it?”

“While we were in jail she slipped back to
your apartment and retrieved it along with our clothing,” Dayn
said. “She was afraid Crymm would remember you had the sword and go
back for it. She also didn’t want to risk our clothes being seized
and somehow used against us.”

Reiv did not bother to unwrap the sword. He
knew it by touch, even beneath the cloth. He looked at Jensa and
Torin, both watching him with solemn expressions. “Why was Market
cancelled?” he asked. “Market is never cancelled.”

Jensa approached him and placed a hand on his
shoulder. “I don’t know how to tell you, but there’s no way around
it. The King has passed. Your father is dead.”

Reiv stood as though frozen, a current of
overwhelming emotion coursing through his veins. He could not make
sense of her words, though he knew exactly what she had said, nor
could he make his lips, his eyes, or any part of his body move in
response to them. The sword slipped from his hand and fell to the
floor with a
clunk
. For a long moment no one spoke and no
one breathed.

“Reiv, we have to go,” Torin finally said.
“Whyn is King now, and we don’t know what this means for you. We
must get you out of here.”

“I—I cannot go,” Reiv said, “I have to stay
for my father’s funeral. I am his son. He would expect me to be
there. He would—”

“You know you can’t go.”

“But I must. I have a duty to him.”

“Reiv, please,” Jensa said.

“He is my father!” Reiv screamed. “He is my
father!”

He made a sudden dash for the door, fully
intent on running all the way to the palace to throw himself across
his father’s body and beg forgiveness.

Torin grabbed him and held him tight. “You’re
going nowhere but back to Meirla with us,” he said.

Reiv flew into a rage, swinging his fists
with all his might, writhing and kicking and shoving against the
man who would keep him from his father’s deathbed. He screamed, the
sound of it so loud he felt certain the Guard in Tearia would hear
him and come to his rescue. But no one came, and he soon found
himself flat on his back beneath Torin who could barely contain
him, and Dayn who had come to Torin’s aid.

“Let me up!” Reiv shouted, tears of fury
streaming down his face. “You have no right to keep me here!”

“Reiv, stop! Stop it now, do you hear me?”
Dayn yelled. “You’re not welcome in Tearia. You’re not welcome at
your father’s funeral. Your family doesn’t acknowledge you. Have
you forgotten? They’ll seize you the minute you step foot there.
Now, calm down and do what Torin tells you. You’ll do no one any
good dead and buried in a Jecta grave.”

Reiv squeezed his eyes shut as sobs wracked
his body. Anger drained out of him, only to be replaced by despair.
He covered his eyes with his fists, intent on hiding his shame for
the way he had treated his father, intent on hiding the sorrow he
felt for the loss of him. At that moment the thought of a Jecta
grave seemed preferable to the overwhelming anguish he felt. How
much more did the gods expect him to take? He went weak with the
realization that he had no power whatsoever, no hope for happiness
at all.