To Whatever End (Echoes of Imara Book 1) (9 page)

“Daro and I haven’t been there in a long time,” Cecily said. “I think they were still rebuilding the last time we were there.”

Madrona Keep was where the war had begun, and where Daro had first met many of the companions. Fearing a rebellion, King Hadran had called together the heads of the noble houses he believed to be traitorous. He ambushed them under a banner of peace in what had become known as the Madrona Massacre. Mira, Sumara and Alastair were among the survivors.

Mira spoke up. “I’ll never forget climbing over that wall, seeing Daro reaching up for me. I thought I was dead and then there he was.”

“We all thought we were dead,” Alastair said.

“How did you get out?” Edson asked, his glance roving around the table.

“It was chaos,” Alastair said. “Hadran’s men attacked without warning, killing people and setting fire to everything. I don’t think Hadran expected anyone to get out, but a few of us did.”

“Daro and I came running to help when we saw the smoke,” Cecily said, her voice quiet. “We had almost left the town before the conclave began. As soon as I heard Hadran would be at the Keep, I wanted to leave. A problem with one of our horses kept us longer than we’d planned.”

“There wasn’t much we could do,” Daro said. “We grabbed as many survivors as we could and ferried them into the woods. Hadran’s men rampaged through that poor town, burning most of it to the ground.” He put an arm around Cecily’s shoulders. He knew it was hard for her to relive those memories.

“That was a dark day,” Alastair said, nodding slowly. “But not without its bright spots. Daro here did manage to save a certain man by the name of Rogan, and that certainly had important ramifications later.”

Edson’s eyes widened. “You saved the king?”

“He wasn’t the king yet,” Daro said. “We helped whoever we could that night.”

“I can’t forget the night we were all holed up in that cave, north of the city,” Griff said, shaking his head. “We were so sure Hadran’s soldiers were coming for us, we must have jumped at every sound.”

“Or the night Callum snuck us all back into the city,” Sumara said. “I recall Cecily was the only one willing to trust you when you hustled us down into your underground hiding place. The rest of us wondered if we would end up worse off than before.”

Callum smiled. “Cecily, you always were my favorite,” he said with a wink.

Daro took another swig of ale and listened as the companions recalled moments from the war. The strange, the surprising, the frightening and even the amusing. No one spoke of the truly bad memories, particularly the night that had ended the conflict. There was something sacred about the memories of that night, as though there were a silent agreement to leave them unspoken.

“It was a shame we had to fight, but I’m certain Halthas is stronger for it,” Mira said. “I hate to think of what life would have been like if Hadran had kept the throne. Or if his son had taken it.”

“No telling what kind of a king Prince Pathius would have made,” Alastair said as he put down his mug.

“I doubt he would have been any better than his father,” Cecily said. Daro glanced at his wife. She stared at the table. “I didn’t know Pathius well, but I know Hadran was preparing him for the throne. Hadran’s influence must have been strong.”

“What happened to him?” Edson asked.

Alastair shrugged. “He died in the fighting.”

Callum gestured with his hand. “Which certainly made the question of succession simpler.”

“Callum, that’s a terrible thing to say,” Sumara said.

“Perhaps,” Callum said. “That doesn’t make it less true.”

It was well into the night when Daro lumbered up the stairs, his head swimming from too much ale. His heart was full, the recollections vivid, but no longer quite so painful. The companions were like a family to him, tied together by shared experience and tragedy. Reliving their ordeals together dulled the edges of his memories, while assuring him it had all been real. A part of him longed for the days when their lives had intertwined. He didn’t wish for war, but it had been difficult for all of them to return to a normal existence once the conflict had ended. Spending time with them reminded him they also felt the pull of their companionship and the challenges of putting their lives back together after everything they had seen and done.

As he lay in bed, Alastair’s words from earlier in the evening rung in his ears. Sleep eluded him and he pondered whether his friend might be right. Was he hiding Cecily away? Had they run from their responsibilities? He pushed the thought away. The kingdom could bloody well run itself now. Rogan had plenty of good men; he had no need for Daro. Or Cecily. They would spend a few more days in the city and return to the contentment of their home.

As he had assured his wife, no one could take anything from them. The kingdom didn’t have power over them anymore. No one did.

8. LIFE TREE

Daro hung back as Cecily ran her hands along a bolt of cloth. They were wandering through the central market in the north side of the city. Cecily loved to browse the stalls, searching for items to add to their home. She’d already bought a pair of silver candleholders that Daro had placed in his pack. He wasn’t sure why they needed more candleholders, but he deferred to his wife on things of that nature. He didn’t mind the market too much. It could get crowded, but Cecily knew how to keep him content. As long as he could stop and sample the sweetmeats, steaming meat pies, and other market delicacies, he was happy enough.

“What did you think of that one?” Cecily asked as they wandered away from the stall.

Daro popped another roasted nut into his mouth. “It was,” he said with a pause, “nice?”

Cecily smiled and playfully hit his arm. “I’m serious. You’re not paying attention.”

“I’m running out of food,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes. “Do you see what I have to deal with?” she asked Edson.

Edson walked alongside them. After several days in the city, he seemed to be getting used to the crowds and grandeur and had finally stopped gawking at everything. “Oh no, I’m not getting involved.”

“Fine,” Cecily said and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “Neither of you are any help.”

Something in a stall on the other side of the walk caught Daro’s eye. “Here, what about these?” he asked, leading her to a table displaying beaded necklaces and other small ornaments. He took a set of hair pins with colorful ribbons attached to them. “These are pretty. What do you think?” He pinned a piece of her hair up, letting the ribbon cascade down the back of her hair.

Cecily touched the silky ribbon. “I don’t know, they’re a little girlish, don’t you think?”

“I like them,” Daro said and handed the craftswoman a coin.

Cecily fixed the hairpin, adjusting her hair a bit, and added the second one on the other side. “There,” she said and turned around in a little circle.

She stopped suddenly and tilted her head to the side, looking past Daro, her attention on something further down the road. She met his eyes, nodding to where she’d been looking.

Daro turned to see three Imaran men walking past, a short distance away. They were far taller than any Halthian, taller even than Daro. They all had similar dark hair and olive skin and wore the customary Imaran clothing Daro remembered from his youth. Their hip-length shirts that wrapped around their chest, held tight with a tie around the waist, created an asymmetrical line down their front and left their muscled arms bare. Their pants were loose fitting and cinched at their ankles, showing their short, supple brown shoes. Loose cloaks hung down behind them, with wide hoods that hung down their backs. The colors were muted greens and browns, soft in comparison to much of what was worn by the Halthians. They looked at Daro and he could see their bright, silver eyes. Their gazes rested on him for a moment and they spoke a few, quick words to each other before moving on.

Cecily put her hand on his arm. “Do you think they know who you are?”

“Maybe. I’m the only Imaran I know of who doesn’t actually live in Imara, so I suppose I’m a bit obvious,” he replied.

“Do you have any contact with the Imarans?” Edson asked.

Daro shook his head. “Not for a long time. After I went to live with my Halthian aunt and uncle, one or two of them would occasionally come and ask about me. But after I left there, I didn’t see them very often. Only times like this,” he said, as he gestured in the direction they had gone.

Daro wanted to change the subject. He touched Cecily’s elbow and gave her a light nudge. “Let’s show Edson the Life Tree. There used to be that great bakery right across the way. We can’t come to the city and not get one of those sweet buns.”

“The sweet buns,” Cecily said to Edson as she shook her head. “He remembers the Life Tree because of the sweet buns. Really Daro, I think you could navigate the city entirely by the food.”

He grinned as she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Yes, my love, I think you’re right.”

They walked along the street, leaving the busy market behind, and turned onto a smaller side road.

The Life Tree was in the center of Northern Halthas, a short walk from the market. They emerged onto a large courtyard of stone, the tiles making a cascading pattern of lights and darks that emanated out from the center. In the midst of the courtyard stood the Life Tree, bordered by a low wall of stone that encased it in a large planter.

Edson’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open. Daro smiled. Everyone gawked at the Life Tree, especially the first time they saw it.

For all intents and purposes, it looked like an enormous living tree. The first branches shot out about ten feet from the ground, curving downward at the tips, drawn down by the weight of their leaves. The leaves themselves were spread out almost like a hand, with five points on each, and they seemed to turn in the wind. The entire tree always appeared to be moving, rustling in the wind, swaying and shifting. The leaves seemed to turn color as the light hit them, making them appear to shift and move. But the Life Tree was not alive, nor was it a tree. It was stone.

“It looks so real,” Edson whispered.

“Yes, it does,” Cecily answered.

“Did the Imarans really make this?” Edson asked.

Daro nodded. “They did, hundreds of years ago. The stories say the Imarans brought the stone and carved it right here in the center of the city, as a gift to Halthas.”

“How did they do that?” Edson asked, his voice still filled with awe.

“I wish I could tell you,” Daro answered as he gazed at the Tree. The apparent movement of the leaves was almost hypnotic. He always tried to see the Life Tree for what it was, lifeless stone. But he could never make his eyes believe. The harder he stared, the more lifelike it seemed.

“No one in Halthas really understands how they did it,” Cecily said. “I think even the scholars at the Lyceum gave up a long time ago.”

They all moved closer to the Tree to get a better look. Edson walked around and peered at it closely. “I can’t imagine how they made it look so alive. You said they brought in the stone? It doesn’t look like any stone I’ve ever seen.”

“No, it isn’t,” Cecily answered. “I’m no expert on stone, but it doesn’t feel like anything I’m used to.”

“Come closer, I want to show you something,” Daro said as he beckoned to Edson. They all walked to the edge of the Tree’s enclosure. The low wall surrounding it was the perfect height for sitting, and they all took a seat, following Daro’s lead. “Close your eyes,” he said.

They closed their eyes. Daro took a deep breath as calm washed over him. The Life Tree emanated a feeling of peace and tranquility that was even more surprising to most people than its lifelike appearance.

“That’s incredible,” Edson said quietly. “This is no Shaper trick.”

“No,” Daro said and took another deep breath. He could almost smell the fresh scent of wildflowers. “Imarans don’t have Shapers. They don’t have Wielders, either. They’re just”—he paused—”Imarans.”

“Am I supposed to feel so relaxed?” Edson asked.

“Most people do, especially this close,” Cecily said. “Just another reason they call Halthas the City of Wonders.”

They basked in the tranquility of the Life Tree for a while, looking up at the shifting leaves and studying the branches. The Life Tree was the one place in Halthas that Daro genuinely loved. Cecily always told him it must remind him of his earliest days, when he’d lived with his parents in Imara. Perhaps she was right, although he couldn’t remember anything there that looked like this.

A smell tickled Daro’s nose, and he remembered the sweet buns. As much as he enjoyed the Life Tree, it would be a shame to leave the city without one.

***

Daro licked the cinnamon off his fingers as they approached Griff and Serv’s warehouse. His former employers came out to greet them. Griff’s face lit up with his usual smile, and Serv gave a quiet nod.

“Everything is ready,” Griff said and clapped Daro on the back in greeting. “You’ll be leaving tomorrow?”

Daro nodded. “We have a long trip ahead of us. If we’re lucky, the weather will be kind, but I’m not counting on it.”