Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light (25 page)

Alicine crept to the door and opened it,
careful not to make a sound. Dayn was curled up on the chaise
across the way, twisted around the blanket like a snake on a limb.
His breathing was so heavy, she could hear it from the doorway
where she stood. To her profound relief, Reiv was nowhere in sight.
She settled her eyes on the door past the living area. The services
of the lavatory were sorely needed.

Looking to her right, then left, she stepped
out and tiptoed past Dayn. But her attentions were redirected by a
clank
in the kitchen. Reiv could be seen rummaging around in
a cabinet, and Alicine could only stop and stare.

The boy in the kitchen looked nothing like
the one who had left her standing in the doorway of the bedchamber
the night before. The bright red hair she had only seen bound at
his neck now lay in auburn streams down his back, darkened by the
water that had recently washed it. He wore a sleeveless tunic, once
violet, now faded to shades of lavender, and belted at the waist by
a tawny leather belt. Much more conservative than the previous
day’s attire, the tunic covered him from shoulder to mid-thigh. His
face was scrubbed clean and, lacking the mask from the day before,
glowed with peach-colored skin. He was almost too beautiful to be a
boy, but the tall muscular build of his body erased any doubts one
might have about that. His hands were covered by gloves, though not
the same ones as the day before, and he was now busying them in the
preparation of breakfast.

Reiv glanced up and spotted Alicine staring
dumbly. “So you are awake. Good. You are in time for breakfast,” he
said.

“Yes, I was just—I was just going to the room
there,” she said, pointing to the door across the way. She
continued to examine him as if she had never seen him before in her
life.

Reiv glanced down at himself, then back up at
her. “What?” he asked.

“Oh. Nothing.” Alicine felt her face go hot.
“You look different, that’s all.”

“Nothing that a little soap and water could
not help. I have drawn you a bath,” he said, nodding in the
direction of the lavatory.

“A
what
?”

“A bath,” he repeated. “You certainly are in
need of one. How long has it been?”

“Not that long,” Alicine declared.

“I would think much longer.”

“Well, you didn’t smell so sweet yourself
yesterday.”

Reiv frowned. “It was a bad day.”

“Well, thank you for the offer, but I think
I’ll wait until Brina returns.”

“Suit yourself.”

Dayn rose up on an elbow and assessed the
exchange going on between his sister and Reiv. It seemed
inconsequential, so he yawned and stretched, then kicked the
blanket from his legs. Spying the door to the right, he rose and
headed in that direction, but he quickly found himself competing
with his sister for the comforts of the little room.

“Fine, you go first then,” he grumbled. He
turned and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for her
to finish, and watched Reiv busying himself in the kitchen. “What
was all that ruckus between you and Alicine?” he asked.

“That sister of yours,” Reiv said, shaking
his head. “I merely suggested a bath. You would have thought—”

“A
bath
?” Dayn asked.

Reiv glanced up. “Yes. A bath. You know what
that is, do you not?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well,” Reiv said, nodding in the direction
of the lavatory, “there is one drawn in there. I suggest you use
it. Your sister does not seem to want to.”

“Use it? But I—”

“—took one a week ago or something. Yes, I
know. You’d best use it, Dayn. Brina will expect it and she will
have my head if I do not see to it.”

“What is it about Brina and our heads?” Dayn
muttered.

Alicine, finished at last, exited the
lavatory. Dayn brushed past her and stepped through the door,
eyeing the large cask of bathwater across the way. It did look
inviting, and he was dirtier than usual. Besides, Reiv said Brina
expected them to bathe, and Dayn didn’t want to risk angering her
this early in their relationship. He stripped off his filthy tunic
and trousers, then lowered himself into the tub and leaned his head
back against the rim. His arms floated in the sudsy water as his
mind drifted.

A rap at the door brought him to his
senses.

“Dayn are you all right? Reiv says you have
been in there a long time.”

Brina
! He bolted upright and covered
himself with his hands, sending a splash of water over the
side.

“Don’t come in!” he shouted, scanning the
room for the nearest towel. “God, what does she want to see now?”
he said.

“I heard that,” Brina said through the
door.

He slunk back down. “Sorry, Brina.”

“Well, come out when you are ready. Food is
on the table.”

When Dayn arrived in the kitchen, he saw that
everyone was gathered around an enticing breakfast of fruit, eggs,
bread, and honey. He sat on the bench beside Alicine, grabbed a
chunk of bread, and shoved it into his mouth. He glanced at Brina.
She was scanning him with distaste. “What?” he asked between
chews.

“Reiv, have you not fetched him some clean
clothes?” she asked. “A bath does little good if it is followed by
such grime.”

“No, Brina,” he said. “I have been too busy
getting clean myself and, in case you have not noticed, this
breakfast did not prepare itself.”

“When you are finished, then,” she said. “Oh,
and did you take care of—”

“Yes,” Reiv said, “in the bath.” By his cool
expression, it was clear he did not wish further discussion
regarding the matter.

With his breakfast downed, Reiv rose and
cleared his dish, then headed for the door. “Dayn, I will find you
something as soon as I get back,” he called over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” Dayn replied as he followed him to
the door.

Reiv put his hand on the latch. “Bolt this
behind me and do not open it unless you are certain it is me.
Understand?”

Dayn nodded. “All right. Be careful.”

Reiv forced a smile. “I was once fairly
skilled at getting in and out of tight situations. Perhaps I still
possess the talent.”

Brina walked up, her expression speaking of
gratitude. “Reiv . . .”

“Do not worry. I know what I am doing.”

“Just act normal,” she said.

“Oh, and what exactly is that?”

He opened the door a crack and peered out,
then turned back to Dayn. “Remember, bolt the door behind me.”

* * * *

Reiv made his way down the narrow cobble
street, scrutinizing every doorway, alcove, and alley. He dreaded
the thought of meeting up with Crymm or one of the other guards he
had confronted the night before. But if he did, he would need to be
prepared. Gritting his teeth, he replayed the humiliating story he
would have to tell.

He rounded the corner and strolled to the
stables. No one of consequence was in sight, but even if there had
been, his presence would not have seemed unusual. He did, after
all, spend a great deal of time with Gitta. For the past year she
had been the only friend he had. Pushing open the double doors of
the stable, he felt overwhelming remorse. He had sorely neglected
the horse the night before.

He entered the stall and felt the familiar
joy he always felt at the sight of her. He wrapped his arms around
her neck and buried his face in her mane. “Gitta,” he said. “How is
my girl today?”

She snorted and stomped as she moved to
nuzzle his neck.

He set a fresh bucket of oats down before
her, and she put her mouth to them immediately. His remorse
returned.

“I am sorry, Gitta. Do you forgive me?” He
grabbed a brush from a shelf on the wall, and brushed her with
long, gentle strokes. She raised her head, snorted again, and
turned her attention back to the bucket.

“Well,” he said, laughing, “at least you are
thinking about it.”

A sudden rustling sounded in the adjoining
stall. Gitta jerked her head up while Reiv paused to listen. All
went quiet. “Probably just a rat, girl,” Reiv said. He patted her
back and resumed his brushing.

On the opposite side of the stall’s
partition, Crymm crouched, silent and listening. He had spent the
previous night drinking and gambling, and had found himself far too
inebriated to make his way back to the bunks. He’d collapsed in a
heap in the stables, barely caring about the consequences of the
morning, when a familiar voice in the adjoining stall raised him
from his stupor.

He leaned back on his haunches and blinked
his crusty eyelids. Could he be dreaming? he wondered. Pressing his
cheek against the boards of the stall, he slanted an eye between
the crack. His heart took a sudden leap. He couldn’t believe his
luck—it was the princeling!

“I am sorry for the neglect last night,
Gitta,” he heard Reiv say to the horse. “You know I had to tend to
our guests.”

Crymm’s ears pricked up. He huddled closer to
the wall and peered between the slats.

“They were not as bad as we thought though,”
Reiv said. “Maybe we could get to know them better.”

Gitta nudged her face against Reiv’s chest
and pushed him gently.

“Whoa, there, girl. I understand your
concern.” Reiv continued to brush, his brow furrowed in
contemplation. “Perhaps we could make more effort to go to Pobu. I
know, I know. We are not particularly welcome there.”

He placed the grooming brush on the shelf and
stood with his hands on his hips, watching Gitta devour a second
bucket of feed. “Gods, girl, if you continue to eat like that you
shall be the fattest horse in the stables.” He laughed and ran his
hand along her back, then said, “Well, I will leave you to it.
There are things I must do.”

The horse paused and stared at Reiv as though
awaiting an explanation.

“Do not worry,” Reiv said. “All will be
well.” Then he turned, walked out of the stall, and headed for the
street.

Leaning around the partition, Crymm watched
as Reiv exited the building. He rose on stiff knees, then realized
the poor state of his uniform. He ran his fingers though his hair,
combing out bits of straw, then tugged at the tunic now stained
with manure. But there was no time to freshen up. An unexpected
opportunity had come his way, and he could ill afford to let it
pass.

He skulked past Gitta’s stall, his cold blue
eyes fully focused on the door. But the horse suddenly reared and
thundered her hooves to the ground.

The gate rattled as if it would burst from
its hinges. Crymm staggered back, hissing and swearing. “Foul
creature! When I have taken care of the princeling…” He eyed a whip
that hung on a nearby peg. “If only I had time.”

He crept to the stable doors and peeked out.
Glancing to his right, he caught sight of Reiv’s red hair weaving
between the growing crowd of blond Tearians. More and more
residents were making their way to Market and this, he knew, could
work in his favor.

Dodging between shadows and shallow doorways,
Crymm kept close to the buildings that lined the streets. On more
than one occasion he found himself diving for cover as the red head
paused and turned around. But the boy never appeared to have seen
him, and each time turned and continued on.

Reiv rounded a corner and stopped before the
Jecta dormitories, a cavernous two-story structure made of gray
stone blocks. He glanced from side to side, then disappeared
through the front door.

Crymm crept over and inched along the wall
toward an open window. Strangely, the prince was making his way to
the women’s bunk area rather than to the men’s. What in the world
could he be doing there?

Reiv looked around, then hurried to the
nearest bunk. Opening a large wooden trunk resting at the foot of
it, he peeked inside and frowned. He took nothing and closed the
lid before moving to another trunk nearby. The lid opened with a
creak. Reiv winced and threw a glance over his shoulder. He reached
in and pulled out a red and gray patterned sarong, then took a coin
from the money pouch at his waist and tossed it in. He closed the
lid and headed out the door.

Crymm’s mouth curled to a grin.
I have you
at last, you arrogant prince. First you harbor thieves, now you
have become one. But, just in case there is any doubt. . .
His
eyes narrowed; his brows met. The plan was in play.

And this time he would not fail.

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Chapter 16: Culture Shock

R
eiv leaned his head
against his front door and muttered a prayer of gratitude. How long
had it been since he had thanked the gods for anything? He couldn’t
even remember. He glanced over his shoulder, then tapped on the
door. “Open up, it is me,” he whispered loudly. He leaned his ear
in closer. Muffled laughter could be heard in a distant part of the
apartment. “Gods,” he muttered. He ground his teeth and rattled the
handle.

The door opened a crack and a blue eye peered
out. “Yes?” the voice behind the eye said.

Reiv shoved his way in, banging the door
against Dayn’s arm. He stormed across the room, tossed the bundle
onto the table, and wheeled to face to his now disgruntled
cousin.

“This is no time for jokes, Dayn!” he barked.
“You have no idea what is going on here, do you?”

Dayn massaged his aching elbow. “I’m sorry,”
he mumbled, “but I knew it was you.”

“Listen, this is serious business and you
need to treat it as such!” Reiv rubbed his temples and scrunched
his face with exasperation. How in the world was he going to make
him understand? As he looked into the wounded, boyish face of his
cousin, he realized Dayn was just that—a boy. Though they were
nearly the same age, Dayn had obviously not been forced into
manhood as quickly as Reiv had.