Souls of Aredyrah 1 - The Fire and the Light (34 page)

He forced a smile, but it turned to a scowl
when the crowd began to snicker. He yanked his arm away, and folded
it back across his chest. What was he, some sort of red-tufted
parrot doing tricks for their entertainment?

“Shush! Off with you all now,” Nannaven said,
waving her hand to scoot the spectators away. Most lost their grins
of amusement and bustled off, heads bowed timidly.

“Come,” she coaxed.

“No, I think I should go now,” Reiv said.

“Go? Where would you go?”

“Well, I was only meant to get Dayn and
Alicine to Pobu and then—”

“Then?”

He looked back at his feet. “I do not think I
can stay. I mean, this is your home and I am Tearian. I do not
belong here.”

“And where, may I ask, do you belong?”

He paused for a long moment, then said,
“Nowhere, I suppose.”

“Then here is as good as nowhere.” She looped
her arm back through his. “Come. You must be hungry.”

The scent of herbs and roasting fowl greeted
the three as they entered the house. It was a welcome relief from
the stench of the cell and the dust of the streets that still
lingered in their nostrils. Nannaven ushered them over to a plank
table, not particularly large, but adequate for the hungry group.
She and Jensa then poured them each a mug of water topped with a
leafy sprig of mint. They gulped the drinks down eagerly and held
their mugs out for more, finding their thirst quenched only after
having received two more fills. Nannaven served them up plates of
meat and cooked carrots, and placed a warm loaf of bread at the
center of the table.

Alicine and Dayn did not wait for an
invitation to sink their teeth into the food, but Reiv hesitated,
staring at it suspiciously. Dayn took a great mouthful and groaned
with pleasure. Alicine laughed and wiped a trickle of greasy juice
from her chin. Reiv continued to examine his share; he wasn’t
certain what animal the meat had come from. But he could bear his
hunger no longer and was soon shoving it into his mouth with as
much passion as the others.

“It is good,” he said, his mouth full and his
words muffled. He smiled up at the Spirit Keeper, revealing an
emotion almost resembling that of happiness. She expressed instant
delight and rushed over to spoon an extra helping onto his plate.
Whether it was the compliment for her cooking or the genuine smile
he had flashed her was not clear, but after that she seemed to pay
him particular attention. Before long he was politely declining her
offer of a third helping. Dayn readily volunteered to take it in
his place and held out his plate time after time until he, too, was
pushing his plate away, his belly full at last.

“Nannaven, what does ‘prince’ mean?” Alicine
asked, watching Reiv from the corner of her eye. He scowled and
flashed her a warning, but she persisted. “I mean, we’ve heard that
word many times, but no one has explained it to us.”

Nannaven looked at Reiv as though confused.
“Reiv?”

He moved the dregs of food around on his
plate with his fork and remained silent.

“He hasn’t told them about himself,” Jensa
said. “He said they would learn soon enough, or something like
that.”

Nannaven shook her head. “So many secrets
with you people.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Reiv
asked.

“What I said. You don’t have secrets?”

“No.”

“Well, then, tell them what ‘prince’
means.”

“Yes, Reiv, tell us,” Dayn said eagerly. He
rested his weight on his elbows and leaned across the table toward
his grumpy cousin.

Reiv rolled his eyes with great drama. “Oh,
very well,” he began. “A prince is a non-reigning male member of a
royal family, traditionally the son of the monarch, who is usually
destined to inherit the sovereignty. That is all.”

Dayn’s jaw dropped. “I don’t know what you
just said.”

Alicine cocked her head. “And?”

“And I am, I mean, I was once a prince.”

Dayn and Alicine looked at each other then
back at him, confused by the definition of the word as well as his
statement following it.

“Reiv,” Jensa said, “may I rephrase it a bit
so they’ll understand?”

Reiv shrugged with indifference.

“In Tearia there is a royal family,” she
said. “They possess the highest political power in the land, other
than the Priestess, and we’ll discuss
her
later.” She
frowned, then refocused her attention, and her expression, back to
the subject of royalty. “The King is the ruler and the princes are
usually his sons and grandsons. The King of Tearia is Sedric and he
has two sons, Reiv and Whyn. The oldest son inherits the monarchy,
or kingship, upon the death of the father.”

Her eyes moved to his, and for a moment Reiv
thought he saw pity there. He turned his gaze to the tabletop, and
swallowed down the emotion that was mushrooming in his throat.

“So, Whyn is the prince who will be the king
because he is older,” Alicine said.

“No,” Reiv replied, “I am older, but by one
minute only.” He glanced at her questioning face. “We are
twins.”

“So why then—” Dayn began. His attention
moved to Reiv’s gloves. Reiv moved his hands to his lap.

“Why aren’t you still a prince, Reiv?”
Alicine asked.

“Because I became impure.”

“Impure?” Dayn exclaimed. “You mean your
hands? Your family disowned you because of your hands?”

“Yes. I was Unnamed because of them.”

“But you still have a name,” Dayn
insisted.

“It was once Ruairi, but that name was taken
from me because it meant ‘Red King’. Since I could no longer be the
Red King, I was given a servant’s name.”

“Well, that’s just wrong,” Dayn
proclaimed.

Reiv gaped at him, then forced a weak smile
of appreciation. “At any rate, there is nothing that can be done
about it. I will have to remain the nobody I am.”

“There are no ‘nobodies’ here,” Nannaven
said. “Especially not you, Reiv. Everybody has a purpose.”

Reiv laughed. “I am sitting in a hovel
surrounded by Jecta with no place to go and nothing to do. I do not
see what great purpose there could be in that.”

“How did your hands get burned?” Alicine
asked.

Reiv’s expression darkened. “I do not wish to
talk about it. Do not ask me again.” He turned his attention to the
Spirit Keeper. “Nannaven, I was wondering if you might take a look
at my arm. I have a small wound that probably should be
treated.”

“Lands, what am I thinking?” the old woman
exclaimed. She moved to his side and eyed the cloth still tied
around his forearm. “Come, let’s move over by the fire where I can
get a better look.” She motioned him over to the hearth, and pulled
out a stool, then pressed him down and untied the bandage, careful
not to pull tender skin. “Who did this to you?” she asked with
disgust.

“That guard did it,” Dayn said. He moved to
stand next to them and eyed the blood-encrusted slice in Reiv’s
arm.

“Shameful,” Nannaven muttered. “Well, don’t
worry, it will be mended before you know it.” She instructed Jensa
to fetch her some fresh water, herbs, and a clean bit of cloth. She
cleaned it carefully and pressed the herbs onto it, then bound it
with more cloth. “By morning you’ll not even know it’s there. Now
what about your hands, do you need—”

“No!” Reiv said hastily. “I mean no, thank
you. They are fine.”

“Very well. Take a seat on one of those mats
there while I finish up. Dayn . . . sit.”

“Wha—Why?” he asked.

“Your lip, dear boy. Let’s take a look.”

Dayn felt along his lip with the tip of his
tongue, seeming to have forgotten it had even been split. He sat
down and leaned his face up to Nannaven, slanting his eyes aside to
spy on Reiv.

Reiv picked at his new bandage, inspecting it
to see what it was the woman had put into it. He caught Dayn’s eye
and grinned. “Bet you never had your lip split by a Tearian guard
before.”

“No, but I’ve had it split by worse.”

“Worse? Who could be worse than Crymm?”

“Sheireadan,” Dayn mumbled as the Spirit
Keeper dabbed some ointment onto his lip.

“And who, may I ask, is that?” Reiv
asked.

“Oh, he’s the brother of the girl Dayn
likes,” Alicine said.

“Girl? Well, tell me about her, little
cousin.” Reiv leaned in with sudden interest.

Dayn scowled and pulled his face from
Nannaven’s probings. “There are some things I don’t want to talk
about either,” he said coolly.

Reiv was startled by the chilly reply and
dropped the subject immediately. The room became uncomfortably
quiet as Dayn’s tending-to continued at the hands of the Spirit
Keeper.

After Nannaven finished with him, she invited
them all to sit on the mats laid out before the hearth while she
took her place on the stool. They sat where instructed and waited.
Alicine struggled to adjust herself in the sarong, while Reiv sat
next to her with criss-crossed legs. Dayn threw himself onto his
back, arms tucked behind his head, and closed his eyes in
noticeable satisfaction of his pleasantly full stomach.

Nannaven eyed the three. “Before we begin,”
she said, “is there anything else you need?”

“Before we begin?” Reiv asked.

“We have things to discuss. What must be done
with you, for one thing.”

Dayn sat up quickly. “What do you mean, done
with us?”

“Well, you must earn your keep, and though
you are welcome to stay here for a time, eventually permanent
accommodations will need to be made.”

“We will not be in Pobu permanently,” Alicine
said.

“Oh?”

Dayn and Alicine exchanged glances.

“I know you are from another place,” Nannaven
said. “Brina told me you are her son, Dayn, and that you and your
sister made your way here through the forbidden mountains. Quite a
feat for two so young as yourselves, I must say.”

“Brina said we aren’t to speak of it,” Dayn
said.

“The Tearians must not know, of course. Were
word of it to get to the Priestess, there could be dire
consequences for all of you.” Nannaven’s eyes settled on Reiv.
“Great pains have been taken by Tearian leaders, the Priestess in
particular, to hide the truth of our histories. They have all lived
a lie for far too long.”

Reiv turned his face from her, wounded by the
attack on his heritage.

“You can deny it, Reiv, if you wish,” she
continued, “but you’ll learn the truth of it soon enough.”

“The only truth that needs telling I already
know,” Reiv said haughtily. “There are people living on the other
side of the mountains. What of it? They are obviously stragglers
from the Purge. The gods took mercy on them, that is all. They are
just a few misplaced Jecta, nothing more.”

“Is that what you think we are?” Alicine
said. “Jecta leftovers living by the pity of your gods? Well, we
don’t even believe in your gods.”

Reiv gasped. “You do not believe in the gods?
Why—why that is—”

“Is what?” Alicine said, her voice becoming
heated. “Blasphemy? Well, we believe in one god only. Daghadar the
Maker. He teaches us that there is only one true god. Where we are
from it is a sin to believe in any others but Him.”

Reiv opened his mouth to speak, but Nannaven
cut him short. “Enough. We can debate religion later. Right now we
need to discuss the issues at hand.” She turned to Dayn who had not
participated in the discussion between Reiv and his sister. “Dayn,
what skills do you have?”

“Well, I’m good with farm work: plowing,
tending livestock, planting, that sort of thing. But I also have
some skill at blacksmithing. I was friends with the smith back home
and he showed me things.”

“Gair is our smith. I’m sure he would be
pleased to have you help him there,” she replied.

“Gair is the smith?” Dayn gulped. Gair hadn’t
been mentioned since they entered Nannaven’s house, but the memory
of the intimidatingly huge man flooded back.

Nannaven laughed. “Don’t worry. Gair is a
lamb in a bear’s body, unless he becomes angry, that is. Then,
well, let’s just say you’d best pray he’s on your side.”

Dayn nodded. “I guess that would be all
right. I think I’d rather work with the smith than till the fields
at any rate.”

“Then it’s decided,” Nannaven said. Then she
turned to Alicine, who had her arms crossed and her frowning face
turned away from Reiv.

“Alicine, what skills can you offer?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Dayn said. “She’s the most
talented person in all of Kirador with herbs and potions. She can
do anything with them.”

Nannaven clapped her hands with delight.
“Excellent! We’re in desperate need of healers here. I’d be so
pleased if you would help me make and administer medicines for
those in need, and I fear there are many.”

A smile crept to the corners of Alicine’s
mouth.

“And you, Reiv? How about you?” Nannaven
waited patiently, but he did not respond for a very long time.
“Reiv?” she repeated.

“I do not know,” he said, stabbing the dirt
with his finger.

“Couldn’t he work with me at the smithy?”
Dayn asked.

“No, Dayn,” Reiv said, “I do not have the
strength in my hands to do that kind of work.”

“You could stoke the fire or—”

“I do not think that would be much of a job,
Dayn,” Reiv said. “I admit to being skilled at starting fires, but
I do not do well at staying out of them. Besides, I doubt Gair
would need the both of us. I think I had better find something else
to do.”

“Well,” Nannaven said, “something will turn
up. It always does.” She rose, pushing her frail body from the
stool. “Reiv, Jensa will keep an eye on you until I can make other
arrangements for someone to watch you.”

Reiv’s face fell. “You do not trust me.”

“It is others I do not trust. The people of
Pobu have not forgotten you were once Prince of Tearia and while
some may sympathize with your plight, there are those who would try
to do you harm.”