Chapter 8
While Kathryn and her friends were making their way through the sands of Tephraya, Trista was experiencing even more pampering and luxury than she was used to at home. She and Illian still spent a great deal of time together, and increasingly, he was beginning to ask her questions about herself. One day, as they were walking in the garden, he remarked, “I was told that you took possession of your parents’ home at just 15 and since then have been leading it as the mistress. Before that, you lived with your aunt…but when you saw her at the engagement celebration, you obviously disliked her. Why was that?”
“Didn’t Kathryn tell you?” Trista asked in surprise.
Illian cocked his head. “Kathryn has barely spoken to me in quite some time,” he said dryly.
“Why not?” Trista inspected some late-blooming white roses as she spoke.
Illian shrugged. “We are competitors for the throne. We have been ever since the first war. You may not know this, but while I was away fighting, my father trained her up to be my replacement should I fall in battle. She felt like she was destined to be queen, so when I returned, she was rather disappointed.”
“That’s not right,” the young girl contradicted firmly. “Kathryn cried with joy when she heard you were coming home.”
“She was always a fine actress.” Illian’s tone was bitter. “But the question was about you, Trista. Why do you dislike your aunt?”
Trista sat down in one of the wrought iron chairs that dotted the massive garden and patted the one next to her. He sat down as well, and she began pruning the rose bush nearby as she talked. “As you know, my father died when I was young. So David was like a father and a brother to me all at once. When he went away to war during the first war with Navinor, I became less and less hopeful he would survive as the days passed. And he died just a year in, as you know.”
He listened attentively, but his face was unreadable. He only said, “Go on.”
“Well, in the second war, my two other brothers died as well. And my mother, who had been such a smart, strong woman, was nearly killed with grief. She became so ill and listless, she couldn’t take care of me. So my aunt told us both to move in with her.”
Trista’s aunt had pretended to care for her briefly, in hopes that the mother would bestow her family inheritance on the aunt until Trista was 18. But when that didn’t happen, the woman began to bully the girl. Trista’s cousins even joined in.
“I rarely had enough to eat while I was there,” Trista remembered. “She also slapped me sometimes, and even encouraged the servants to hit me. I tried not to tell my mother, because I thought it would make her worse, but I was getting angrier at her by the day. I kept writing back and forth with Kathryn, but my aunt intercepted the letters, so as far as I knew, Kathryn was ignoring me. I felt terribly frightened and alone. And being only 15, I didn’t think I could simply go back to my father’s estate and make a go of it.” She talked as though it had been ages ago, rather than less than two years.
Illian was shocked at what he was hearing. He never would have guessed that the girl, who he had assumed had always been pampered and beloved, had been treated in such a way. “What a horrible woman,” he remarked.
Glancing over at him, Trista was rather pleased to see his face was dark with annoyance at her former plight. She hid a smile and went on, “One day, I was with my mother, and my aunt slapped me right in front of her. I lost my temper and screamed at her, and my mother didn’t move or say anything the whole time. My aunt shut me up in the cellar for two days. Later, I asked my mother why she didn’t do anything, and she didn’t answer me. She just kept staring at nothing. I was so angry I started screaming at her and shook her, and she didn’t say a word. So I left.”
“Left?” Illian’s tone betrayed disbelief.
“Mm-hmm. I took a few things from the kitchen, left some of my jewelry to pay for it, and rode home. I was pretty scared out there in the dark by myself, but I wasn’t about to have one of those terrible servants go with me and report to my aunt. I made it to my estate. It had fallen quite a bit in the eight months I was away, and my aunt had been firing off staff here and there without my permission. I didn’t know what to do, and I was terribly frightened of my aunt, so I wrote to Kathryn for help. Kathryn soon helped me get all my old servants back and also visited me for a while. I have her and of course David to thank for being independent now. As for my mother, she is still with Aunt Irim, but I hear she is just the same as she was back then.”
Illian had listened in silence. Now he said quietly, “I must say I admire you a great deal, Trista.”
Trista blushed hard and didn’t know what to say. She was rather relieved when a servant came to tell them it was time for supper.
Illian was very quiet throughout supper, even more so than usual. And he was a bit cold towards her afterwards as well. Noticing this, Valen took him aside to ask, “Has something happened between you and Lady Trista, sir? Something seemed off earlier.”
“No. But make arrangements to find out who poisoned her drink the other night by any means necessary,” Illian said briefly. “I want to end this ‘engagement’ situation as quickly as possible.”
“Of course I’ll tighten security, sir, but why the sudden urgency for-”
“David. He is why.” Illian’s tone was emotionless, but pain filled his eyes.
Valen flinched at the words and bowed. “Right. Of course. I’ll make arrangements, sir.”
In the days following Trista telling her story to Illian, he seemed unusually distant, which was pretty hurtful. She told Carrie about it, complaining, “I told him everything about me, and I haven’t told almost anyone else about it. But he just brushed it off and hasn’t said more than two words to me since. He’s always out riding or talking to the generals about some issue at the mines.”
Carrie wrote in response, “I told you, it’s better that you don’t get close to him. Illian doesn’t care about people. He only pretends to.”
Trista decided not to answer that, though it troubled her.
Carrie was a good friend to her over all, despite their disagreements. She also wrote beautiful stories. Trista would watch as her pen raced across the page, telling of sand dunes, and monsters, and fairies, and all sorts of marvelous and fantastical things. The world through Carrie’s eyes was surprisingly beautiful.
One day, Carrie rushed into the room with a brilliant, excited face and put a letter in Trista’s hands. She wrote in her notebook, “It’s from my brother! He hasn’t written to me in ages. I’m going to write him a long letter and scold him a lot for that.”
Trista laughed. Then she asked cautiously, “Do you mind if I read it?”
Carrie shook her head with a smile. “It has a lot about your friend in it,” she wrote.
Surprised, Trista unfolded the piece of paper. “My dearest sister. This letter took a great deal of time to get to you because I wanted to send a long one and the birds at my disposal weren’t meant to carry anything so large. But I plan to make up for the delay by telling you a great deal about everything.
“First, you’ll want to know about my companions here. Honestly, I hadn’t thought much of them at first; particularly the former princess. She seemed quite cold, and at times rather lacking in any personality or will of her own. I thought she was only acting on her father’s will, and indeed, it often seems like that is so. But there were times where she surprised me and something really lovely shined through.
“She is not afraid to be vulnerable to comfort the weak. And she showed me a great deal of kindness even when she knew her mortal enemy had sent me. Besides that, no one can question her bravery or intelligence.
“The thing that’s the biggest mystery about her is her relationship to the other member of our party. Poor, foolish Ren seems to love her with his whole heart but is thwarted at every turn by her continual ambitions for power. Now, Ren is a good friend of mine, even though he doesn’t know it. But I fear he is not allowing himself to be true to what he really wants out of life. Perhaps he doesn’t really know what it is he is searching for.
“As for me, in spite of your many encouragements, I have yet to find a romantic partner. Kathryn is a decent sort, but utterly unromantic towards anyone but Ren, and even if I was interested, Ren would have my head. But we are on our way to Tephraya, and I have high hopes I will find someone interesting there. I do not know how you would feel about that, though. If you look at them, would you see only someone who had hurt you?
“If that is so, you must tell me now, before I fall head over heels for some great beauty. And I will abide by your wishes.
“Now, enough about me for the moment. Are you well, my dear? I hope and pray that Illian treats you well and cares for you as he promised me. You must try not to hate him too much. I came here under my own free will, and I am in no danger. In fact, Ren is a monster of a fighter and protects us all quite well. So don’t be anxious, and eat well. I should like to come back to see that you have grown a great deal and are healthier than when I left.
“Write me back. And while you’re at it, send me one of your wonderful stories. Kathryn and Ren will like to hear them around the fire at night. And Brenin will pretend not to listen and shed tears at some sappy moment like a fool. Until then, I am entirely yours,
“Chance.”
“Chance. What an odd name,” Trista mused, folding the letter up. “So it’s Tephraya next, is it? That will not be an easy journey. I certainly hope she comes through safely.” She looked at the window, realizing that the days were growing longer and hotter. She whispered, “Please do take care, Kat.”
Osric Valen was an honorable man. He had become a general after the first war with Navinor thanks to his heroic acts, and he had fought at Illian’s side ever since. So was it any wonder he felt it was rather demeaning to be told to escort an assassin on the way to kill one of Osric’s friends?
Though perhaps “friend” was a bit strong to refer to Ren, the general thought wryly as he shifted in his saddle. Ren had treated him with suspicion bordering on dislike ever since the younger man and Illian had their falling out. Still, Osric respected the young warrior deeply, and he knew that deep down Ren felt the same way.
So as Osric looked sideways at the scruffy, sneaky figure riding silently at his side, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
Hal said suddenly, “I’m going to take a quick detour to see a friend of mine.”
Osric pulled up his horse abruptly, exclaiming, “You’re meant to stay with me. I’m not going to let an assassin wander around in Iridalys.”
“Then come with me,” Hal invited. “You’ll find it interesting as well. I’m paying a visit to a mutual friend.”
“And who would that be?” Osric demanded.
Hal smirked. “We’re meeting Xian.”
Osric flinched and his face turned white. He gripped the reins and his horse shifted uncertainly, sensing his unease. “Xian is in Navinor,” he said shortly.
“Is he, now?” Hal winked. “He can be pretty unpredictable. It seems he decided to take his own initiative to chase after General Ren. He felt like his honor was threatened because they didn’t get to finish their fight I guess. And since your King didn’t see fit to share the information about the General heading for the contest of champions, Xian ended up following Navinor’s latest intelligence, and I’m told it pointed him to a little town near here. He should be there about now. Now, if you think it’s a problem for me to run around in Iridalys, how much more of a problem is it for a beast like Xian to run free?”
Osric hesitated. He’d heard that Ren fought with Xian and had been severely wounded. Which meant that Xian was well above his own abilities to control in any way. Still, he didn’t like the idea of Xian potentially making trouble in a small town. So he grumbled, “Fine. Lead the way, assassin.”
Without even hiding his smirk, Hal did.
A few hours later, the two men found themselves in a little village that sat in a valley. The valley was surrounded by cliffs on all sides, and it almost felt detached from the rest of the world. The people there seemed nervous at the sight of two armed men, and the women hurried their children along with hushed voices.
“I imagine we’ll find Xian at the inn,” Hal said cheerfully. “He’ll want to stay here overnight before heading over to Tephraya.”
Osric grunted and didn’t reply. Hal dismounted and tied his horse outside the dinky little inn that served as the town’s main attraction, and Osric followed suit. As soon as they entered, their eyes were naturally drawn to the huge, imposing figure at the back of the room with the scarred face.
Xian seemed to recognize Hal. His previously expressionless face twisted into an angry frown and he stood up with his hand on his sword. “What are you doing here?” he snarled.
“Whoa, hold on.” Hal spread his hands peaceably. “I’m not here to get in a fight. I just figured I’d let you in on a little secret about where your quarry was headed.”
Osric’s eyes widened in alarm and he grabbed his arm. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.
Hal shook him off. “Ren Patrick will be in Tephraya for the Contest of Champions,” he announced.
They heard something fall to the floor with a “thud” as the words left his lips.
Turning his head, Osric noticed a pale, slight boy of about fifteen standing by the counter. He had dropped a small wooden box that apparently contained herbs. When he realized Osric was looking at him, panic filled his eyes and he turned to go without recovering them.
“Wait!” Hal snapped. Before Osric could stop him, he darted across the intervening space and grabbed the boy’s wrist.
The boy struggled in his grip, but he was very slight and Hal didn’t budge. “You seemed surprised to hear what I just said,” Hal remarked in a mock-pleasant voice.
“Hal, leave the kid alone,” Osric snapped angrily. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Just asking some questions. See, this brat might know a little something about our friends who just left for Tephraya. Right, brat?”
The boy seemed terrified. He stuttered, “I-I d-don’t know wh-wh-what you’re-Ow, l-let go!”
“I asked you a question, brat. Why don’t you just behave yourself?” Hal sneered.
Osric grabbed his arm and squeezed painfully. “If you don’t move your hand, I’ll break it,” he said quietly.
Hal scowled and released the boy, who darted away without a word.
The innkeeper, who seemed to have been too frightened to speak up before, now said rather weakly, “You can’t scare Cal like that. He hardly comes around as it is, and we need his medicine.”
“Then maybe you can answer my questions,” Hal retorted. “When did Ren Patrick come through here?”
“Don’t answer that. We’re sorry to annoy you, sir. This cretin and I would like a couple of rooms here if you have them available,” Osric interrupted hastily.
Xian had watched the entire encounter with a stony face, but now he drew a little closer. “Who are you?” he asked.
“I am General Osric Valen of Iridalys. I have been tasked with going to Tephraya at the order of my king.”
“To see to Ren Patrick. Are you a match for him?” Xian asked bluntly.
“Er…I’ve never fought him seriously.”
Xian could hear the hesitation in his voice. He shook his head and said grimly, “You can’t defeat him. I can. Let me go with you.”
While they were talking, Hal glanced at the window and saw the young boy from earlier hastily move away from it. Evidently, he had been listening in. The assassin smirked grimly. “See, I was almost tempted to let you go,” he muttered.
Osric said, “I suppose you’ll be headed there whether I want you to or not. But I would prefer it if you don’t make any trouble here in Iridalys while you’re at it.”
“Of course. I am not like that rat,” Xian said contemptuously.
That was when they both realized Hal was gone.
Osric said, “Speaking of the rat, where is he?”
Calix raced away from the inn with an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, wishing he’d never laid eyes on those terrifying people. He stayed at a run until he was well outside of town, and then he slowed, panting.
Years of poor nutrition and emotional distress had taken a toll on his body, and he had to stop for several minutes to try to catch his breath.
That was when he saw Hal. Hal was simply walking towards him with a chilling smile on his face. Twigs and leaves snapped under his feet, creating an eerie sound. Dread filled Calix as he realized those eyes were not the eyes of a man who merely wanted to ask questions.
Chapter 9 – Coming Tuesday
Subscribe to the blog to get notified when the next chapter goes live.
Loyalty Fallen Hub 