Post 15

Eithna knocked hesitantly on Arius’ door, glancing up and down the hallway nervously. Then she berated herself firmly, mumbling under her breath. It wasn’t as if she was sneaking around. This was her father’s manor, after all. Jared had mentioned in passing that morning that Arius had mentioned leaving soon, and she wanted to be sure to have a few words alone with him before he left.

Eithna knocked again and continued to wait, shifting the bundle in her arms impatiently. A servant clattered across the hall a ways down, and she nearly jumped from her skin. Just as she had finally decided that he wasn’t in his suite, and began to turn away, Arius cracked the door open, peering blearily at her with a sleep-smudged gray eye.

Eithna blushed as she took in the mussed braid and his wrinkled robe donned in obvious haste. “I’m sorry, I know it’s early. I didn’t mean to interrupt you two-.”

He opened the door wider, looking a little confused, and then his face cleared. “Eithna, I’m alone. Rayna is off on an errand. Please, come in.”

She ducked into the room, careful not to touch him, and crossed the space to settle into one of the plush chairs before the unlit fireplace, her bundle clasped in her arms.

“Give me a moment, please.” Arius slipped into his bedchamber, closing the door firmly behind him. Eithna took advantage of the time to examine his sitting room. He had certainly made himself comfortable during the two moonturns he had been here. Personal possessions littered the room, from the chess board set up near the chair where she perched, a game half played, to a jacket thrown across the back of one of the chairs at the little dining table. There were stacks of leather-bound books beside the chair across from hers, and she strained a little to read the titles embossed down their spines, not surprised at any of the titles but one. She hesitated, glancing at the door to his bedchamber, and then reached towards the book, her hand hovering above it for only a moment before she picked it up.

It was a copy of Bramble Rose, an old story she still enjoyed reading. Curious, she flipped through the beautifully-illuminated pages, not able to imagine Arius reading it, and the inscription inside the cover caught her eye. The book had been a gift from her father, had it? Why this book, this tale of romance and heroics of all things?

The latch lifted on the bed chamber door, and Eithna scrambled to close the book and place it neatly back at the top of the stack before Arius re-entered the sitting room. He had tidied his hair and donned a simple white shirt and brown trousers with comfortable-looking turned-down boots that reached to his knees. The clothing was the closest that she had seen to what he had worn when she first knew him, and memories flashed through her head. Eithna tamped them down stubbornly.

Arius gave her a curious look before taking the chair beside the books, and she pretended not to notice when he turned the spine of Bramble Rose away from her so she wouldn’t see it. “Is there something the matter, Eithna?”

Eithna hesitated, making up her mind, and then met his calm stare frankly. “Jared told me that you were asking about legends regarding the Old Times.”

He nodded, albeit reluctantly. “I have been asking, yes.”

“I know a few of those legends. I grew up on them, in a manner of speaking. My father hosted a Bard when I was little, and I soaked in the stories about the Old Times. I doubt you’ll find more information anywhere here than what I can recall.” She paused, and Arius waved a hand politely for her to continue, one finely arched blond brow raised. Eithna considered for a moment before doing so, comparing his composed behavior with the hot-headed young man he had been when they had first met. She was certain he was still as stubborn as ever, but now it was confidence she saw in his eyes, not willfulness. Arius could be a noble-born Lord, and no one who didn’t already know him could have guessed otherwise right now, plain clothes or no.

Eithna flushed a little as she took a deep breath. “My father doesn’t know I’ve heard most of these stories, of course. I…” The flush grew darker, until her cheeks were crimson. “I used to sneak into the hallway of the dining hall after supper, after the usher was sent off. I was supposed to be in my rooms, learning to sew or paint or draw. Instead I was listening to men drink and game and swap tales, but best of all, I listened to that Bard. I… I kept a journal, of his stories.” She glanced at him to make sure he was watching, and then turned her gaze to the cloth-wrapped bundle in her lap. “Would you like to read it?”

He was leaning forward, an eager glint in that dark gray gaze. “I would, very much so.”

Eithna nodded and slowly, carefully, parted the cloth to reveal a plain leather-bound book with ragged pages. She stared at it for long moments, and then she picked it up, hugging it to her chest. “I know it’s foolish, really, to think of this book as a part of my childhood, but I cannot help it. Please, take care of it. I want you to keep it, and take it with you. I don’t know if it will hold answers for you, it may simply be a collection of fairytales, but I think maybe… I think maybe answers will come for you, and I think my book will help.” She held it out to him, and when he had gently taken it from her hands, his face sober, she surged to her feet, spun on her heel, and fled from the room.

Arius stared after her for long moments before opening the book. Eithna’s handwriting was neat and tidy, and the first story she’d recorded caught his attention immediately.

Once, too many moonturns ago to count, before even the days of the Old Times, when the lands here were known by other names, there lived a beautiful golden-haired Queen named Eljin. She ruled fairly and firmly, and under her rule, her queendom prospered. She bore her consort husband one child each year for nine years, each child fairer than the last, until the youngest was nearly too radiant to look upon. Four glorious daughters and five handsome sons grew up playing in her gardens and dandling on the knees of their loving parents.

Wrapped so warmly in their parents’ love, the children never looked to leave their home, even when they were old enough to do so. The girls did not request husbands, and the boys did not seek wives. They grew into their adulthood never knowing strife or conflict, for the Queen and her consort kept them well shielded from the horrors of the outside world. They were educated well, but to each of them war was only a distant idea, and battle strategies were simply puzzles to mull over.

When the youngest child reached his majority, the Queen and her consort husband finally realized that they could no longer keep their offspring fully safe from the entire world, for rumors had been heard from neighboring lands that the Hounds of Hell had been turned loose. The Queen, you see, had a deep dark secret. She had not always been the fair golden Queen, after all. Just before she reached her own majority, her elder brother had been slated to inherit the throne from their sickly father. Eljin knew that her brother had a dark soul. As a child she had spied on him torturing the castle cats, and had even seen him drown a litter of kittens with a feral grin on his face. As he’d grown older, he had begun to spread his dark habits to the servants of the castle, and she heard whispered stories of his sordid lifestyle, and even rumors of a secret manor he kept, where blood stained every wall.

She finally took the stories to their ailing father, who roared at her for trying to slander her brother. He would hear nothing ill of his beloved son, and he refused to even consider that there might be something wrong with him. Eljin had been raised to treasure her father’s people above her own life, and she knew she would do anything to prevent her brother from taking the throne on their father’s death. She fretted and plotted in silence, until finally one day, out of viable ideas, she approached her brother bravely.

He laughed in her face when she put forth her proposal, but upon seeing the seriousness through her every line, he considered what she had suggested. Finally, he agreed, on one condition. She would give up one of her children to him, when he returned, to do with as he pleased, and she would do it willingly, or he would reveal to the world what she had asked of him. In desperation, she accepted his requirement, never having carried a child beneath her ribs, and so never knowing how impossible his demand really was. After all, in her mind, what was the sacrifice of one child for the saving of a nation?

Her brother left his father’s castle in the dark of night, and no one knew why he had left except his sister. She prayed that night to the Gods and Goddesses, that they would keep him away, and that they would make her a Queen upon her father’s death, so that she could keep their subjects safe.

Her wishes were granted when her father died the very next moonturn, and without the son and heir to crown, the kingdom turned to her, and just before her eighteenth summer celebration, she was made their Queen.

Now, many years later, when the memory of her dark brother was but a dim silhouette in the back of Eljin’s mind, he resurfaced and demanded his payment. In horror, she refused, for she could not embrace the idea of sending one of her precious children to be tortured by his wicked ways. What she didn’t know, what she couldn’t know, was that in his absence, her dark brother had turned to evil magics, and he had dedicated his life to its study. He threatened her, telling her that he would the damn the lives of all of her children if she would not hold to her promise. She continued to refuse.

He left her castle in a fury, and Eljin was confident that he had disappeared for good. She couldn’t have been more wrong. That night, each and every one of her children became deathly ill, and the good Queen and her consort husband sent for every healer within three days’ hard ride. Not a one could find a cure. There seemed to be no way to save the lives of the nine young men and women, and gradually, day by day, they slipped further away.

The Queen finally fell to her knees in desperation and again prayed to the Gods and Goddesses. She simply could not let her dark brother have any of her children. To her relief, with a bright flash of light, one of the Goddesses appeared before her where she knelt in her children’s sickroom.

“Tell me what you would have us do, my child.” The Goddess was encased in a blinding light, so bright that the Queen could hardly look upon her.

“Spare my children, please. I will give my life, and my beloved husband will give his life, in exchange for theirs. They did not ask for me to make this wretched deal with my dark brother. They have brought nothing but beauty to my life and not one of them deserves to be used for his black purposes. Ask any boon of me, and if it is within my power to give it, I will. Please, please spare my children.”

“I am afraid they are all too far gone, you silly woman. You call too late.”

The Queen wailed, prostrating herself before the Goddess. “Please! It is not their fault! It is mine, for wanting something better for my people than a tyrant!”

The Goddess seemed to consider the Queen at her feet. Finally, she spoke again. “You have shown homage to us only twice in your entire life, Queen Eljin. Once, when your brother would have taken the throne, you bowed to us and asked for our help. We granted you that request. And now, you ask again. But never once in all the years in between have you even considered us. You have not raised your children to revere us, and you do not demand your people to show us respect. The temples built long ago in our honor crumble and stand empty. The priests who tended them are all gone. Why should we grant your request now?”

The Queen was dumbstruck. She had no answer for a long span of moments, and then finally she took a ragged breath. “I will swear to build new temples, I will empty the treasury if I have to, I will pay for the priests, and I will declare holy days in your honor. I will dedicate my own life to teaching your precepts, if you will only save my children.”

The Goddess shook her head sadly. “Queen Eljin, your children are far too gone to bring them back to life now. But we will help. We will take your children to our own bosom, and we will grant them more power than they could ever know. They will take our Word to your people, and to the people in every other land, beside. We will remake their lives, and grant them eternity to perform their tasks. That is all we can offer you.”

“Anything, please, anything that they will not die for my sins.”

“Then so be it.” The Goddess disappeared with another bright flash of light, and when the Queen’s vision cleared her children were gone from their bed, every single one of them.

The Queen’s children were indeed taken to the bosom of the Gods and Goddesses, and when they woke the next morning, they were in Skeyon, the realm of the deities. There they were greeted by Sheryas, the Goddess of Healing, who had taken them from their sickbeds. She explained to them what had happened, and that they were to be transformed. Never again would they walk the world below as mortals; instead they would live forever, spreading the Word and upholding the Laws. “You will become our soldiers, our warriors, and you will ensure that evil does not spread its dark shadow anywhere in the World. Dark magics have been released, and they must be contained. If they cannot be contained, then we will be forced to take far-reaching steps; we will purge the world to begin anew. We will grant you special gifts, to assist you in performing your duties. You will be our blades to cut the malevolence from the world.”

Each of the children fell to their knees to pledge their troth to the Gods and Goddesses of Skeyon, no hesitation in their breasts. But they were innocent still, and it wouldn’t be until they were turned loose back on the world that they would learn how dark and loathsome their people could truly be.

The Queen Eljin continued to rule her queendom fairly, but she and her consort husband were never happy again. She kept to her word, and the temples were rebuilt. Men and women willing to train as priests were found, and a grand institution was built that they might be trained to spread the Word of the Gods and Goddesses. This was the holiest place, and men and women from every corner of the world came to be educated. It was the siblings themselves who taught the first priests and priestesses, carrying the Word and the Laws.

Once the first priests and priestesses were trained, the siblings bore their blades of devotion, and began to slash the evil from the world. They felt their work would never be done, and for more than a hundred years they made peace wherever they trod. But they never seemed to be able to stamp evil out completely; it seemed to nearly sprout up behind them, dogging their heels.

What they couldn’t know, and what even nearly each of the Gods and Goddesses did not know, was that that dark brother of the fair Queen Eljin had made a deal with evil magics. His name was Keary, and he had pledged his soul forever to the one God who was not pure. The Trickster God Razakel, who was not satisfied with his place in Skeyon, who was jealous of his fellow Gods and Goddesses, desired to walk among the mortals and spread his dark desires. Keary offered his body as a vessel for Razakel, and the God filled him beyond bursting, and through that vessel he raped and pillaged and did murder through the world. In return, Keary was granted near-immortality and also power beyond his wildest imaginings.

The siblings of course did not know about Keary, and no matter how hard the nine of them struggled to knit peace within the world, the work of one man unraveled the threads faster than they could be woven. They were called back to Skeyon, to stand before the Gods and Goddesses. When they were told that the Gods and Goddesses believed that the world was too corrupted to be saved, that there was too much evil loose within it, and that the world would be purged of all life, they threw themselves to their knees and begged for the deities to change their minds.

The eldest sibling spoke the most eloquently. “We know that you see horrible things happening, we know that you hear prayers for release from great evils, and we know that you are even now shocked and appalled at the depravity of humanity. But please, we also know that there is hope. For every bit of evil in the world, there are a dozen bits of goodness. For every murder, there are ten births. For every rape, there are a hundred words of love. We know that you feel sorrow at the conditions below, and we know that we have failed in our task to uphold your Laws and spread your Word. Please, punish us and not the world below. Or at least punish only those who would do harm, and leave those who would do good deeds.”

The God of the Hunt stepped forward to lay a hand on the top of the eldest sibling’s head where it was bowed with the weight of their failure. “It is not you who failed the world, my sons and daughters. It was us who failed the world. We stood by and did not enforce our Word and Laws sooner. Instead, we granted humanity the greatest gift we could give, the gift of free will. We cannot pick and choose the men and women who might perform evil deeds, at least not until the damage has already been done. We cannot go back on that gift now and we must let them make their own choices. But if we start fresh, if we wipe the world clean, then evil will have no place in it, there will be no foothold for it to begin from. Can you not see the logic of that?”

The sibling lifted his head to meet the God’s eyes. “There is no logic in a mother’s love. There is no logic in a flower growing on war-blasted battlefields. There is no logic in a baby’s laughter, or in the faithfulness of a loyal hound. There is no logic to being a hero, to sacrificing your own life for that of another. There is no logic to making the right choices only for the sake of making the right choice. How can you cite logic, while you destroy everything good in the world?”

The God stepped back, and the Gods and Goddesses began to murmur together. Finally, they turned to the siblings kneeling before them. The Goddess Sheryas stepped forward, their patron Goddess, the one who had taken them from their beds so long ago. “We will not purge the world below us. For now. But you will continue to serve, and you will continue to seek out evil. You will not rest until it is done.”

With happier hearts the siblings returned to their work. And by some chance, by some small stroke of luck, an opportunity fell into their hands, and they came face to face with Keary. It was impossible to refute that there must be some relation, as they shared similar features. Keary, however, no longer owned his soul, and it was now dark and twisted from the actions of Razakel. When the siblings confronted Keary for his crimes, he admitted to every evil deed he had ever performed for Razakel. He told them that he was indeed their uncle. They would have helped him to try to break free of Razakel, in respect for familial bonds, but Keary refused. He had no desire to be free; he wished to live forever as he had lived for more than a hundred years already.

The siblings did not believe that Keary was truly as sinister as he proclaimed, and they kept only a lackluster watch over him while they tried to decide what to do with him. He snuck out from the cell they had put him in, and disappeared from beneath their very noses. When the God of the Hunt discovered what had happened, he confronted Razakel in Skeyon, and a battle raged across the heavens for a dozen years.

Razakel could not be defeated. He had made himself nearly indestructible by joining himself with a once-mortal. As long as Keary lived on, Razakel could not be killed, not completely.

Arius turned the page, and blinked at the start of a new story. Where was the rest of this story? Surely it didn’t end there, with Razakel on the loose. His dream image had told him that Razakel was stirring. He flipped through the rest of the book, but there were no other mentions of Razakel and Keary.

Arius was brooding when Rayna flitted into the room, her face bright. She threw her cloak across his on the back of the dining chair, and ignoring his dark look, she dropped into the chair Eithna had occupied earlier. He surged to his feet and began to pace. “Rayna, I want to talk with you.”

She tipped her head curiously. “About?”

Arius continued to pace, hands folded in the small of his back, face carefully blank. “I know you want to retire. I know you have no home of your own, since your husband’s lands were granted to another Lord, and I know that Lord Wensellas has given you free reign of his manor. But…” He stopped and faced her fully now. “But I think you would like Ragged Valley. I think you would find a purpose there. Will you go?”

Rayna was clearly surprised; she certainly hadn’t been expecting his plea. “You want me to move my entire life to Ragged Valley?”

Arius nodded, hoping to convince her. “I can send you with my two men, whenever you are ready. They will keep you safe from harm until you reach Ragged Valley, and once there you will find no place safer, I promise you that.” He came to kneel before her, clasping her hands between his. “I do care what happens to you, Rayna. I worry that once my association with Ragged Valley is exposed, once it is known who I really am, that it will reflect on you and I wouldn’t wish any harm on you.”

She searched his face, and he wondered if she could see the depth of his concern. “Ari, you are just a man. Why would your association with Ragged Valley bring harm to me?”

“Trust me on this, Rayna, please. At least consider it.” He couldn’t tell her, not for this reason alone. It wasn’t just his life, or hers, that counted here. He supposed at this point it all depended on whether or not she trusted him as much as he did her. That thought caused a start- it hadn’t occurred to him that he had come to trust her so fully.

Rayna nodded soberly, still looking a little confused. “I’m certainly willing to keep my options open.”

He took a deep breath in relief, and rose to pace again. He could feel the weight of Rayna’s concerned dark eyes. “I’ve canceled the rest of our engagements for the next fortnight, Ari. I thought it for the best.”

He only nodded distractedly, and Rayna was certain he wasn’t really listening to her. She sighed and let her gaze wander, and then blinked at the book that lay open on the seat of his chair. “What’s this?”

Arius waved a hand vaguely, not answering, and Rayna leaned forward to pick the book up. She flipped through the neatly handwritten pages, and then opened it to the front and began to read.

The story fascinated her, especially when she reached the park about Razakel. When Rayna had reached the end of the story, she set the book down in her lap and looked up, to find Arius focused fixedly on her. She jumped a little, startled at the intensity in his gray eye.

“What do you think about that?” He motioned to the book. Maybe she understood it more than he had.

“I don’t know. Where did this come from?” Or maybe she didn’t.

“Eithna. She brought it to me this morning. She recorded some stories, from a Bard her father kept long ago.” His kept his face carefully blank, wondering what thoughts were flashing behind her eyes. He hadn’t learned to read her well enough to decipher that look.

“I think it’s a little coincidental that the story mentions Razakel. Did you mention that name to anyone else?”

He shook his head, squeezing his eye closed. “No. I only asked around for books about the Old Times.”

“The Old Times,” she breathed, “when the Gods and Goddesses still touched the world.”

He nodded this time, opening his eye and dropping into his chair limply. “I find it too coincidental to find that Razakel and the Old Times come hand in hand. How is it possible that I dreamed that name, and that here it is before me, written down at least a dozen years ago by a young girl?” Stranger and stranger.

Rayna just shrugged. She opened her mouth, and before she could speak there was a hesitant knock on his door. Casting Arius a cautious look, she went to the door and opened it to a servant bobbing curtsies. “My Lord Wensellas asks that you join him in his study in one candlemark, please.” Rayna nodded and closed the door before the servant could even turn away, turning a worried look to him.

Lord Wensellas was sitting behind his big desk when they joined him. He motioned to the same two chairs they had occupied when they had first met, and Arius and Rayna took their seats gingerly, taking their cue from the concerned look on the Lord’s face. Arius wondered what the trouble was, for certainly that look meant trouble.

“I have received a message, from High Lord Gregor, asking me about you, Arius. It seems that rumors have reached him about you, and he is concerned that his record keepers can find no mention of a Baron Brand in the census accounts.”

Arius nodded, mouth drawn down. “We knew it might come to this, didn’t we?”

Lord Wensellas nodded soberly. “I fear it is time for you to reveal your connection to Ragged Valley, Arius. I will only be able to delay a response for a short time. When the High Lord asks, it is best to answer immediately.”

He nodded. “I understand. Do you think it best that I go now, to present myself?”

Lord Wensellas winced. “I don’t know. It might be best if you disappear for a short while. Rumors can flow both ways, and the reward on your head has been raised significantly.”

“I won’t just run from this-.”

Rayna cleared her throat noisily to interrupt him. “Reward? How is there a reward? What have you done?” He flinched. He had forgotten that she didn’t know.

Lord Wensellas gave him a stern look, one that he shrugged off uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Arius. I assumed she knew.”

Rayna turned to meet his sheepish look with an indignant one, and he could see the anger simmering in her eyes. He was in trouble now. “Knew what?”

Arius shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s all right, she would likely find out sooner or later anyhow, wouldn’t she?”

She sat up far straighter than she ever had before, and now her eyes had gone cool. Strangely, the cool look frightened him much more than the indignant one had. “I demand an explanation. What is going on?”

Arius reached a hand out to her, but she just glared at it until he dropped it back to his lap. “I asked that you go to Ragged Valley, because I thought that this might happen. I have another identity.” He frowned. “That sounds horrid, saying it out loud.”

“I should say so! What do you mean, you have another identity? Isn’t your name Arius?”

“Well yes, it is. But you know that I’m not really Baron Brand.” She did remember, right?

She had forgotten, apparently. He could tell by the shock on her face. Most likely she had wrapped herself up in the story she’d woven so tightly that she’d missed the most obvious part. “What is your secondname, Arius?”

The sheepish look was back, and he couldn’t seem to wipe it off his face. “My mother didn’t know who my father was, and so she just chose a secondname. I don’t know why she chose it, but it’s the name I usually go by, just the same. Until I came here, I hadn’t used my firstname since childhood.”

She glared now. “You didn’t answer my question.” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

He took a long deep breath before answering, willing her to stay calm with all of his might. There was no point to not answering now. “My secondname is Veyga, Rayna. It’s Veyga.”

Rayna’s jaw dropped and she seemed to sag, staring at him blankly. Surely she understood. After all, no sane man would claim that name unless he really meant it. Arius licked suddenly dry lips. “Rayna, please, you have to understand that the stories about me are not true.” He reached for her hand again.

She shrieked and jerked her hand away from him. “Don’t touch me!” She surged to her feet. “I need-.” She shook her head violently. “I need a little time alone.” Without another word, she ran from the room.

Arius sighed deeply. “That could have gone better.”

“Arius, I’m sorry. I assumed you would have told her. I mean, she was sharing your suite-.” The Lord rubbed his hand across his mouth. “I’m just sorry. It might be best if you went after her.”

Arius shook his head. “No, she said she needed time alone, and I think it’s best that I follow that.” What little he knew about women told him it could go either way, but he would respect what she had said, and if that wasn’t good enough for her, then he didn’t know what to say.

“What will you do now, Arius? I wasn’t joking about the reward. He’s at least doubled it since you came here.”

“I guess I just move on.” To where then? He had no notion of where this Polien was. None of his research had unearthed anything. If the story Eithna had given him hadn’t contained Razakel’s name, he would have taken the entire dream- every one of the dreams- as the mad visions of the dreamworld.

“Will you go back to Ragged Valley?”

He shrugged. “I don’t really know. I think it would be cowardly to run from this, and after all it was the whole point of even coming here. There’s nothing to stop me now from going on to present myself and take my due.”

“You’ll be arrested before you even broach the gates, Arius. Your face has become familiar to several people close to the High Lord. At least one of them is bound to have made their way to him, and it isn’t as if you’re not… easy to spot.” The Lord motioned towards his own eye, to point out the eye patch.

Arius took a deep breath and then blew it out hard. By the seven hells, the Lord was right. “I hadn’t thought of that. There is somewhere else I need to go; maybe I’ll just put this all on hold until after I’ve made that trip.”

“That might be for the best. But if you don’t go home, at least let me have your belongings sent on for you.”

Arius blinked in surprise. “Belongings?” He’d come with just his saddlebags.

Lord Wensella’s smile was wry. “Your lady is quite the shopper, Arius. You have an entire wardrobe now.”

Arius nodded and then laughed humorlessly. “I had assumed I’d leave them behind.” What good would silks and satins do him in Ragged Valley? Maybe he could have Kayli make dust rags of them. Then again, if that woman saw an opportunity to dress him up as a Lord… He shuddered. It didn’t bear considering.

“Well, at the least, you may be ordered to make a Court appearance, to stand for the accusations being hurled your way. There’s no harm in taking along the things already made for you.”

Arius nodded thoughtfully. Another good point. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He paused. “I’ve asked Rayna to go to Ragged Valley. If she decides to go, will you be sure she makes it there safely? My men know the way.”

Lord Wensellas nodded soberly. “Of course.” He reached into the desk and brought out a full leather pouch that clinked when he held it out to Arius. “Take this, it’s the least I can do to aid your cause.”

Arius took a deep breath, and then took the pouch, tying it quickly to his belt. He reached out his arm, palm facing up. Lord Wensellas grasped his wrist firmly, meeting the younger man’s gaze steadily. “Thank you for everything, my Lord Wensellas. I am in your debt.” And he left the Lord staring after him, concern written across the elder’s face.

The next morning Arius sadly laid the pieces to the chess board into the box they had come in. He had spent many hours with this board, with both Jared and Rayna, plotting out moves and sharing a part of his life. A sad smile turned his lips when he recalled the conversation with Jared. “Horses and hounds.” That was some sound advice there. Considering, he picked up the black queen piece, holding it in his hand. It was elegantly crafted, carved with just the hint of a woman’s curves to it. He studied it for a moment longer, then without reason, stuck the piece in his coat pocket. Maybe it would be a good reminder for him that he never would understand women. For that matter, it would be an even better reminder that once he crossed swords with the High Lord., he was setting himself into the biggest game of all.

Arius lowered the lid of the wooden box and carried it over to the dining table where he had been stacking the small pile of belongings he was having sent back to Ragged Valley for him. Already there was a small trunk beside the table, packed with his copy of Bramble Rose and the finest of the clothing Rayna had had made for him. The simpler clothing was all packed into his one set of saddlebags with his journey-gear, ready to travel with him to wherever he was going next.

While he and Rayna had talked several times in the last three days since their trip to the waterfall about him leaving, now that the time had come, he didn’t feel ready. Eithna and Jared had already stopped by, Eithna making sure he would be taking her book with him, and pressing a packet of parchment-wrapped bundles on him. He assured her that he hadn’t needed the teas for days now, but she insisted, and he saw no harm in humoring her. It wasn’t as if they took much room in his saddlebags.

Rayna had not returned to their suite the day before. Last night he had slept alone- or at least tried to sleep- for the first time since she had moved her belongings in. They were still here, so unless she had abandoned them, she would be returning at some point. He hoped that Lord Wensellas had his things moved out first, to make things easier on her.

Finally there was nothing left other than the belongings near the table to indicate that he had ever used the sitting room. He made a final circuit of the bedchamber, pausing before the wardrobe where she had hung her gowns. He reached out a hand hesitantly to touch the soft skirts, then gathered handfuls of the silky fabrics and pressed them to his face, breathing deep. Her scent still lingered. He pushed the fabrics aside to reach into a box at the bottom of the wardrobe, opening the lid to find a neat stack of her handkerchiefs. Arius chose one from the bottom of the pile, hoping she wouldn’t miss it, and tucked it into his jacket. He felt a little bad for stealing from her, but he simply couldn’t leave without taking this small part of her with him.

He returned to the sitting room, and stopped dead. She was just inside the exterior door, eyes wide, ready to run at a moment’s notice. “Rayna.” He breathed her name softly. She was beautiful, and his heart lurched a little in his chest. He suspected that no matter how much time passed, this woman would hold a special little corner of that organ all to herself.

She took a shaky breath, then closed and locked the exterior door behind her. She leaned back against the door. “Would you have left without waiting for me?”

“I was hoping you’d return before.” He stayed where he was, certain that if he came any closer she would flee. Odds were a locked door would not hold her up for long. “I’m sorry, Rayna.”

She took another deep breath and nodded. “I am too. I should have known that no matter what the stories said, you could not be a cruel man. I should know you well enough now.”

He shook his head, dropping his gaze to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve done bad things, Rayna. Don’t try to put me up on a pedestal.”

“But Ragged Valley, Ari…” Rayna straightened and took a few steps toward him. “You built Ragged Valley. You built a home for those that had nothing. You provided for those that couldn’t provide for themselves.”

“Rayna, don’t.” He scrubbed his hands across his face, tired beyond belief. “I started Ragged Valley, before it was Ragged Valley even, for purely selfish reasons. I wanted a home, somewhere to call mine, and it just… turned into this amazing place. I can take very little credit for that. It’s the people that make it so special, not me.” Why couldn’t anyone understand that? Why did everyone insist on making him a damned saint?

Even now she laughed, shaking her head. “Ari, you damn fool!”

He refused to meet her gaze, grumbling under his breath. After a long pause, he asked again, “Will you consider going to Ragged Valley, Rayna? Please? Do you understand why I ask, now?”

She nodded. “I’d already decided I would go. I leave within the fortnight. I’ve already met with your men, and while they aren’t thrilled to not be accompanying you, they have agreed to take me to Ragged Valley.”

Arius’ smile was bittersweet as he lifted his face to her. She would never know how much that meant to him, to know that she would be safe at least, to know that she would not be punished for aiding him, for her role in protecting Ragged Valley. “Thank you.”

“Let me walk you to the stable, at least?”

He nodded and scooped up his saddlebags, and they walked side by side, not talking or touching, just sharing each other’s company. The stableman hurried to bring a handsome dark gray stallion from a stall down the way as they approached, and he had the steed saddled by the time they crossed the stable yard. Arius looked at the horse in surprise. “This isn’t my mount.”

“A gift, Arius, from me.” Rayna reached out to pet the stallion’s soft nose, and the steed tossed his head when she pulled her hand away. Arius understood. He wanted her touch again too.

“This is too rich a gift, Rayna. You’ve already given me so much.” She would never understand how much.

“Ari, you silly boy, take him. He will carry you far, I think. His name is Smoke. Not very imaginative, I know, but that was his name before I found him for you. His coat matches your eye color perfectly.” She cast him a sideways look.

“Thank you.” He stood staring at her for several more long moments, and then he turned and threw the saddlebags across the back of the saddle and tied them down. He turned back to her one more time, seemingly unable to turn away. He didn’t want to leave like this, with this tension between them. What could he say to fix it? “Rayna, I-.”

She threw herself into his arms, no hesitation in her movements as she slid her arms beneath his jacket and leaned her head against his chest. He cautiously lifted his arms to wrap them around her. When she didn’t flinch, he closed his eyes, letting the tension leave him. “Am I forgiven, Rayna?” He would beg on his knees if he had to.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Ari.” Rayna looked up at his face, and stared in wonder as two tears slid down his cheeks. “Ari?” She reached up to wipe them away, and he opened his gray eye to stare down at her. “Why the tears?” It shook her to see this man, usually so in control, demonstrate such raw emotion.

He didn’t answer, just shook his head and pulled her even closer, burying his face in her hair and breathing deep. Rayna tucked her head beneath his chin and enjoyed the thud of his heartbeat against her cheek. This was her favorite place, here within his arms. It wouldn’t take much to love this man.

The embrace seemed to last hours, but didn’t last long enough. Finally he released her reluctantly. “It’s time for me to leave.” Rayna nodded and watched as he mounted Smoke. He met her gaze one last time before turning the stallion’s head and riding away.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done not to turn and look back at her again. He soaked himself in misery as he rode through the front gates and through the city that huddled around the manor. It wasn’t until he had left the lordship behind that he reached into his jacket to find the handkerchief he had tucked there. His fingertips met something else instead, and he pulled the little bundle from his jacket with a frown. It was another of her handkerchiefs, wrapped around something. He unfolded it, and stared down at what he held for a long moment, letting Smoke pick his way down the road unattended. There was a small slip of parchment beneath a black leather eye patch that was carefully embroidered with a white and gray rose. He knew instinctively that she had stitched the flower there with her own hand. He tore off his old patch and carefully put the new one on, then turned his attention to the parchment.

Ari,

Somehow, this rose represents your future. You say that you are not capable of love, but I know that’s not true. You will find a woman one day who will earn all the love you are capable of, and you will tuck a rose into her hair to show the world that she is yours. I almost wish I could be the one to wear it for you, but I know that I am not.

I remain forever your friend,

Rayna Fairhaven

He reached up to touch the patch with a lightened heart. His worn blade was strapped to his hip, and it felt good to be wearing it again. He glanced down at his garments, not too different from the plain stuff he had worn on his arrival to Lord Wensellas’ manor, and yet it clothed a completely different man. His thoughts kept him company as he continued on his ride.

It was nearing dark when he finally turned into the tiny courtyard of a small inn, the sign hanging in front of it proclaiming it the Dancing Loom. Arius wasn’t sure how a loom could dance, but the inn looked respectable enough. A boy ran up to take Smoke’s reins, and Arius pulled his saddlebags off before tossing a copper penny to the boy. “Take good care of him.”

The boy nodded eagerly and took the stallion away, and Arius stood looking up at the sign for a moment before steeling himself and ducking through the door and into a dark room. A cloud of pipe smoke floated just below the darkened beams along the ceiling, and the scent of tobacco and ale filled his nostrils. The room wasn’t full by any means, but there were at least a score of men there, farmers by the looks of them. A handful were dicing in a corner and the rest were scattered along benches lined up at heavy tables. Some were eating a thick stew, some were just drinking ale, but all turned to look as he entered. Most turned away immediately, but a few eyes lingered. A thin balding man rushed forward, wearing the apron typical of an innkeeper. “Hello, Master, how can I help you? A meal, an ale?”

“A room, please. And a meal, in that room.”

The inn keeper looked him over swiftly, taking in the simple clothing cut from fine cloth, eyes hesitating just a moment on the black coat embroidered with the strange swirls, and then he bowed a little. “Of course, Master. Lizze will show you up to your room, and I’ll have some stew sent up right away. The baths are at the end of the hall, if you’d like to use them, just a silver penny for hot water and soap.” He motioned to a haggard-looking but pretty young woman and she led Arius across the common room and down a hall at the back. She stopped at the second door on the right, and used a set of keys on her hip to unlock the door. She pushed it open and entered long enough to light a lamp for him, and then she stepped into the hallway and motioned him through.

The room was small and simple, but clean. A narrow bed with a worn quilt against the far wall, a chair tucked up against a little table, a washstand, and nothing more. He nodded to the girl and she turned away even before he closed the door. Arius set his saddlebags down on the bed, then unbuckled his sword belt and propped the scabbard nearby. He sat on the edge of the bed to pull his boots off. He’d grown soft during his moonturns at the manor and the ride had tired him out. If he hadn’t skipped the mid-day meal, he wouldn’t even have bothered ordering supper.

Arius answered the soft knock at the door, taking the tray from the girl rather than letting her carry it in, and then locking the door behind her. He sat at the table to eat the hot stew but didn’t bother with the mug of ale. He had never been much of an ale drinker, and saw no reason to change that now. He unlocked the door long enough to set the tray on the floor outside, then stripped and turned down the lamp before falling into the bed. He was asleep before his head hit the goose-down pillow.

The dream startled him with its urgency this time. His last dream had been at the waterfall, and he hadn’t bothered with the teas since, confident that he had finally interpreted the messages. He needed to go to Polien, and so that was where he had decided to go. Of course, he had only to figure out where Polien was. South, but where from there?

His image was already there, standing before him, wrapped in the swirling blue cloak. The gray floor and ceiling stretched away in every direction, the walls not visible. It was as if he had been dropped into the middle of the previous dream, all the way down to the bloody tears sliding down his image’s cheeks. He blinked dumbly, meeting the intense gray eye so like his own. “Why am I here? I’m going to Polien.”

“Time grows short, Veygarius. Razakel is testing his bonds. The Hounds already pursue us.”

He shook his head frantically. “I don’t even know what the hounds are. Are they dogs?”

“Hounds created by Razakel within the seven hells, Veygarius. It will take great strength and skill to stop them.”

“How soon?” There was no point in asking more.

“Within the moonturn. Become ready.”

“I won’t reach Polien before then. There’s no way. I don’t even know where I’m going!”

“Become ready, Veygarius. The Hounds will reach you within the moonturn.”

“How do I become ready? I don’t understand that part. I thought you meant through studying, but I can’t seem to find any more information about Razakel. It’s the reason I’m going to Polien, isn’t it?”

“Become ready, Veygarius. We cannot tell our self more.”

His head was throbbing. “I don’t understand!” His frustration level rose. “We cannot tell- you must be jesting! You can’t simply give me these preposterous warnings, and expect me to know what they mean!”

His image stared at him soberly, those peculiar bloody tears running from both the gray eye and from beneath the patch, which he noticed with a start now sported a rose to match the one he wore. “We are not ready yet. When you become ready, then we will understand.”

“That makes no sense!” Arius gave in to his urge, drawing the sword at his side and pressing it against his image’s throat. “Explain how I’m supposed to become ready!”

His image smiled sadly at him. “We are already beginning on our path. When you can accept who we are, then we will become ready.”

“Who we-. That makes no sense!” He pressed a little harder, hand shaking, and a drop of blood welled from beneath the tip of his blade.

“We are more than you could ever imagine, Veygarius. You must accept that before we will be ready.”

He woke with a start. His image had said be ready not become ready, that time. Something damp slid across his throat, and he reached up to wipe at it. He stared dumbly at his fingertips, his own blood fresh and bright even in the dim light from the flickering lamp.

He threw the quilt back and swung to his feet, turning up the lamp on his way to the washstand. A chipped looking glass hung above it, and he could only gape at the nick on his neck, exactly where the tip of his blade had broken his image’s skin. He hastily washed the blood away and crawled back beneath the quilt, shivering from more than the cold. It was a long time before he trusted himself enough to fall back to sleep.

The next morning Arius was hardly in a better mood. The dream had not returned, but he had slept poorly. With a sense of foreboding, he pulled on his trousers and shirt, leaving the laces untied at the neck so he could wash and shave, shivering, with the freezing water from the pitcher beside the washbasin. He straightened his braid and then stomped his feet into his boots, a dark glower written across his face. Even the glimpse he caught of his new patch in the looking glass as he buckled his sword belt on hardly failed to lighten his temper.

Arius opened the door to his room, startling the inn keeper with his hand raised to knock. He glared silently, waiting for the inn keeper to stop gaping. “M-master, there is someone here asking for you.”

Arius’ scowl must have darkened, for the inn keeper’s face turned pale. “Where?”

“In the front room, sir.” The inn keeper motioned down the hallway toward the common room, and Arius pushed past him to stalk silently into the other room. He stopped so abruptly that the inn keeper had to dance a little to prevent a collision.

“Lord Holt?”

The other man looked up from where he was eating a bowl of steaming porridge. He nodded curtly, motioning with a spoon for Arius to take a seat on the bench across from him where another bowl already sat waiting.

Sensing the other man’s haste, Arius sat down cautiously, only getting a few bites of the porridge down before Jared was scraping his bowl clean and folding his arms on the table. Arius gave up eating; he didn’t have much of an appetite anyway, and leaned forward, speaking quietly. “What’s wrong, Jared?”

Jared winced. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

Arius just stared steadily at him, not speaking.

“Fine then. Eithna sent me. Rayna left right after you did yesterday, in quite a hurry.”

Arius straightened abruptly. “She told me she would go to Ragged Valley.”

“Well apparently she changed her mind. She is headed to Ay’marne, to make a plea on behalf of Ragged Valley.”

He could feel the blood drain from his face. “What?!” Northeast; of course she would choose to go northeast when he needed to go south.

“Shh…” Jared cast a furtive look around, but the common room was empty. “I rode through the night to get here. A sennight of hard riding can have us there before her. It will take a fortnight at least for her to travel by carriage as she is.” Jared met Arius’ stony gaze with a hard one of his own. “I will go whether you plan to join me or not.”

His instinct was to leave immediately, but one thought stopped him. Within the next moonturn, he’d been told, Hell Hounds, whatever they were, would catch up with him. Would that change if he altered his course? He growled. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll grab my saddle bags and we can leave.”

Jared relaxed a little, satisfaction on his face. “I thought that might be your decision. I’ve settled up your room and bought a fresh mount from the inn keeper. Let’s go.”

Once they were on the road Smoke danced beneath Arius, sensing his rider’s agitation. Away from the possibility of being overheard, Jared continued their conversation. “Eithna went to see Rayna, to check on her after you left. She was gone, with only a note left behind, indicating that she had waited until you were gone so you would not know she was going.”

Arius grumbled beneath his breath about stubborn fool women.

“Needless to say, Eithna sent me out immediately. We weren’t even completely sure which way you were going. It was only chance that I reached here before you left, all it would have taken is my horse throwing a shoe to slow me down. I know…” He hesitated, but Arius waved a hand for him to continue. “I know you told Eithna that you don’t love Rayna-.”

“I didn’t say that, exactly. I do care about her, very much. But I’m not in love with her. That probably doesn’t make any sense.” What was this obsession with everyone butting in to their business?

Jared nodded, taking a deep breath. “It makes perfect sense. But at the very least, I know you’ve put a lot of work into preparing for Ragged Valley, and I would hate for Rayna’s… impetuousness to ruin all those plans.”

Arius shared a weighted look with Jared. “You’re very diplomatic, Lord Holt.”

Jared just laughed, and they spurred their horses into a fast trot, intent on covering as much ground as possible before dark.

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