Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light (30 page)

“Is that not what he is doing?” another said,
laughing.

“Do not spoil his pretty face,” a woman’s
voice exclaimed.

Reiv spit the dirt from his mouth and forced
his eyes forward. His stoic mask slid back into place. He knew
better than to let loose his proud temper. It would do him little
good bound like an animal, and he could not risk Dayn and Alicine
over it. He marched on, a guard prodding him in the back.

The crowd thinned as the parade neared the
inner quadrant. No doubt most of the spectators realized they would
see nothing more once the prisoners were secured within the walls
of Guard Headquarters. They would find out soon enough what was
going on, so most turned to enjoy what was left of their holiday
instead.

Reiv glanced back at Dayn and Alicine. They
were walking a few paces behind him, their hands bound at their
backs, their mouths agape as they drank in the sights. This part of
the city was different from that which they had passed, certainly
nothing like where Reiv lived. Evidence of great wealth could be
seen in every inch of it. The buildings were a harmonious blend of
white, blond, and pink stone, and there were towering pillars
carved with flutes and scrolls and god-like faces. Baskets of
flowers dangled from archways, and fountains sprayed water amongst
marble statues. More than once Dayn and Alicine tripped over
themselves as they looked at everything but their feet.

“Surely no such place exists in this world,”
Dayn said, pausing momentarily in his tracks.

Reiv turned his eyes to the source of Dayn’s
awe and felt his legs go weak. Before them stood a soaring
peach-colored building, so tall it seemed to touch the clouds.
Terraced with floral gardens, the massive structure was built on a
hillside and surrounded by cascading streams and bubbling
fountains.

Reiv struggled to divert his attention, but
the pull of the place was too overwhelming to ignore. There, in all
its radiance and beauty, was his former home, the home of his
family, the place where he had been born and raised. A lump of
sorrow filled his throat, but he pushed it down. That was in the
past, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

They were escorted up a pathway that wound
through a great greenway, landscaped and clipped to perfection.
From there they continued up the hill toward Headquarters, a
handsome structure that housed the business dealings of the Guard.
Frescoes decorated its vast, cream colored portico where scenes of
Tearian guards atop great horses could be seen, their manes and
flags forever waving.

When they reached its entrance, Crymm ordered
them to halt. A guard pushed open the door while Crymm strode back
to Reiv with a smug grin plastered across his face.

“It has been a while since you were here, has
it not, little lord?” he said. “Well, this time you will be seeing
it from the other side of the bars.” He turned on his heels and
marched through the doors, signaling the guards to follow with the
prisoners.

Reiv, Alicine, and Dayn were ordered to stand
off to the side while the Commander was summoned. They gazed around
the room, from its clean, whitewashed walls to the simple but
elegant furnishings it contained. The brown terracotta floors were
polished to a shiny glow that accentuated the light shining down
from the casements above. Crymm stood in the filtering light, his
back to the group, legs spread apart and hands clasped at his back.
He lifted his head as voices could be heard echoing down the
corridor to his right.

Dayn and Alicine glanced at Reiv, who could
not disguise his anxiety.

“What is it, Reiv?” Dayn whispered.

“Nothing,” Reiv said quietly. But it was not
nothing. Mahon was approaching; he recognized his voice.

Mahon stormed into the room, red-faced at the
unwelcome interruption. An impressive man, Mahon was tall and well
built, with a golden mane of curls that reached to his shoulders.
His gray eyes flashed in Crymm’s direction.

“What is it Crymm?” he said. “I was in the
midst of some pressing business and was told there was some sort of
emergency.”

“Sir,” Crymm said, standing at stiff
attention, “I have brought Jecta prisoners per orders of Labhras,
sir.”

“Prisoners?” Mahon said. He turned his
attention to where they stood. “What are the charges?”

“Thievery, sir,” Crymm replied.

Mahon marched past Crymm and approached the
three, his eyes narrowing in recognition of Reiv. He stopped before
his former nephew and scowled. “By the gods!” he said. “What—” Then
his eyes fell on Dayn and the words dissolved on his tongue.

Mahon moved toward Dayn, his realization of
the boy’s resemblance to Whyn all too apparent. He walked around
the prisoner, looking him up and down.

“Who is this?” Mahon asked sternly, staring
hard into the face of the boy now quaking before him.

“A Jecta thief, sir,” Crymm said. “I do not
know his name.”

“Well, boy, what is your name?” Mahon
demanded.

“Dayn, sir,” Dayn’s barely-level voice
replied.

“Where are you from, Dayn?” Mahon asked,
moving in for closer inspection.

“I—we—”

“He is from Pobu,” Reiv interjected.

“Silence from you,” Mahon shouted, glaring at
Reiv’s suddenly downcast eyes. Mahon turned his attention back to
Dayn. “I said, where are you from, boy?”

“Pobu, sir,” Dayn said.

Mahon turned to inspect Alicine. “So, Jecta
thieves, eh?” he said. Then he returned his gaze to Dayn, and
stared at him intently.

Dayn averted his face, and the rose-colored
birthmark on his neck suddenly surged into view. Mahon’s breath
caught audibly as an expression of horror swept his face.

“I thought the same thing,” Reiv said,
stepping forward. “He looks much like the Lord Prince, but I assure
you, it is coincidence only. Nothing more, sir.”

Mahon narrowed his eyes at Reiv, then nodded,
grim-faced. He turned and marched back to Crymm, who was still
standing at attention. “Crymm, you say you have brought them here
on Labhras’s orders. I need to speak with him immediately. Take the
prisoners to the holding cell while I send someone to fetch him.”
Mahon glanced momentarily at Dayn, then turned and walked briskly
from the room.

Crymm grinned at the three as he approached
them. “This way, thieves,” he said. “Or shall I let the princeling
lead you there? He certainly knows the way.”

Reiv pushed past and led Alicine and Dayn
down the dim, narrow corridor. He shot a glare over his shoulder at
Crymm who wore an expression of fury.

“Here it is, is it not, Crymm?” Reiv said as
he stopped in front of a barred room.

Crymm reared his fist as if to strike. Reiv
lifted his jaw, challenging him to go through with it.

“No!” Alicine cried.

Crymm smiled and relaxed his fist. “Perhaps
you are right,” he said. “I would not want to be considered cruel
now would I?” He pulled down a cluster of keys from a peg on the
wall and shoved his way past Reiv, nearly knocking him off of his
feet. “In you all go,” he said, pushing them into the small,
unfurnished cell.

“What about our hands?” Reiv said as Crymm
pulled the door closed. But the man only laughed and turned to walk
away.

“What will the Commander say to you not
letting your prisoners see to their personal needs?” Reiv shouted
through the bars. Crymm could make up a variety of excuses for why
he needed to leave bruises on them, but even he would have trouble
explaining why he left their hands tied at their backs in a holding
cell.

Crymm halted with a growl, then stormed back
and unlocked the door. He pulled his sword from its sheath and
strode toward Alicine, all the while glaring at Reiv.

“Shall I just cut the ropes?” Crymm said,
eyeing the tip of the blade. “Or shall I . . .”

Dayn rushed forward and pushed into Crymm,
shoving him against the wall.

“Why you piece of—!” Crymm spat, lurching
toward him.

Reiv leapt between them, his eyes flashing.
“Let me remind you, Crymm, that I may not be what I once was, but I
still have enough information on you that notice will be paid!”

Crymm gnashed his teeth, understanding Reiv’s
implication, and marched over to Alicine. He grabbed her by the
arm, spun her around, and sliced the ropes at her back. Then he
turned to Dayn and ran the sword between his bindings, cursing him
under his breath. Lastly he cut Reiv’s ropes, but not before
digging the blade tip into the back of Reiv’s arm.

“We will see who pays notice to what,” Crymm
hissed. Then he shoved Reiv away, knocking him against the wall,
and marched from the cell, slamming the door behind him with an
echoing clank.

Reiv grabbed his forearm and held it
tight.

Alicine rushed over to him. “He cut you?
Here, let me take a look.” She reached her hand to his arm, but he
pulled away.

“It is nothing,” he said.

“Don’t be stupid. Let me see.”

Reiv removed his hand and lifted his arm so
both he and she could take a closer look. Dayn walked over and
leaned in, staring at the trail of blood now dripping into the
straw.

“God,” Dayn said, looking rather queasy.

“It is not
that
bad,” Reiv said.

Alicine reached down to the hem of her sarong
and tore off a strip of cloth, shortening the garment to above her
knee. She glanced up at Dayn, noting his disapproving stare. “It’s
only a knee,” she said. “What am I supposed to do? Let Reiv bleed
into unconsciousness?”

Dayn’s face reddened at the realization that
he had allowed her exposed knee to take precedence over the welfare
of Reiv’s wound.

Alicine looked around. “Did he leave us
without water?” She shook her head and wrapped the strip of cloth
around Reiv’s arm, binding it tightly. “We’ll need to clean this
soon.”

Reiv looked down at the brightly colored
tourniquet. “Well, this is certainly the most decorative bandage I
have ever seen.” The pattern grew darker and wider.

“Sit down and keep the pressure on it, for
goodness sake,” Alicine said.

Reiv jumped at her command then slumped down
against the nearby wall, squeezing his arm. “How long do I have to
hold it?” he asked impatiently.

“Until I tell you to stop.”

Reiv rolled his eyes.

“You’d best do what she says,” Dayn said.
“You know her temper and you’ve no place to run.” He laughed weakly
and gazed around the small, depressing cell.

* * * *

Dayn was startled by the sound of creaking
hinges. He rose from his spot in the straw and peered between the
bars. A tall, blond-haired boy was walking toward them, flanked by
two well-armed guards.

The boy motioned for his escorts to wait
outside the door, then he stepped to the cell. The guards hesitated
and remained at his back. A stern look coupled with a loud command
from the boy prompted their immediate departure.

Dayn and Alicine stared speechless at the
visitor. He was truly impressive with his yellow silk tunic,
jeweled brooches, and ornately decorated belt. But it was not his
clothes that held their undivided attention.

As Dayn watched the boy, he felt as though he
were looking at himself. The visitor had the same pale hair, though
much neater, and his eyes were the same bright blue. But it wasn’t
just his coloring; it was every feature on his face.

Dayn glanced at Reiv, noting that his cousin
had retreated to the far side of the cell. The boy moved along the
bars toward Reiv.

Reiv glared openly at the visitor, but did
not say a word.

“Reiv,” the boy said, “are you not going to
acknowledge me?”

Reiv rushed over and grabbed the bars,
jerking them with his fists. “Oh, yes,
my Lord.
I forgot. It
is only I who am not to be acknowledged.” He pushed away and bowed
with sarcasm. “There, is that acknowledgement enough?”

“That is not what I meant,” the boy said
sternly. “I only meant we need to talk, and it cannot be done with
you snarling at me from across the room.”

“What is there to talk about? I am here and
you are there. I will be convicted of thievery and you will live
happily ever after.”

The boy’s mouth compressed with irritation.
“I need to know whether or not you are guilty of the charges.”

“Guilty of the charges?” Reiv said, his voice
building. “Do you actually think that of me? Gods, I thought you
knew me better than that.”

“I do not know you at all anymore, Reiv, and
I cannot help you if I do not know the facts.”

“Here are the facts, broth--” Reiv glanced at
Dayn and Alicine, then began again. “Here are the facts,
Lord
--I stole nothing and they stole nothing. Who was it
that brought us here? Could Crymm possibly have it in for me?
Think! Or have you erased all recollections of your childhood?”

“I have forgotten nothing,” the boy snapped.
“And I never will. I am not your enemy and it would be in your best
interest not to forget it.”

“Enemies come in all forms.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but then
he shut it with a snap. He and Reiv stared at each other in stony
silence until at last the boy said, “You are wrong.” Then he looked
at Dayn. “There appears to be a mystery at work here, but some
mysteries are best left unsolved.” The boy glanced back at Reiv and
shook his head, then turned and exited into the corridor, closing
the door quietly behind him.

“Who was that?” Dayn asked. “Who, Reiv?”

“Nobody,” Reiv said.

“Oh, no,” Alicine said. “He is definitely
somebody. Tell us. Who is he?”

“I told you…” Reiv heaved a sigh of
resignation. “Fine. That was Whyn.”

“Whyn? I’ve heard that name before,” Dayn
said. “You and Brina said something about my resemblance to him.”
Dayn approached Reiv and looked him hard in the eye. “Why do we
look so much alike?”