“I will,” he answered. “One more question. Are there any sayings about…secrets?”
The question startled her. He suspected it might. There was something in her eyes in that moment, something that warned him. Exhaustion had a way of producing true sentiments.
She was quiet a moment and then stared into the fire. Her voice was distant, almost a whisper. “It is no secret that is known to three. Never tell your secret even to a fence.” Her voice fell even lower. “A secret is a weapon and a friend.”
That was it. That was the one she valued the most. He could hear it in her voice. He had used the Uddhava against her and managed to get her to reveal part of herself to him. She stared at the fire, her eyes focusing on the flames, as if she dared not look at him. He could almost feel the emotions roiling inside of her. She was struggling with her feelings. Without knowing her as he did, it would not have been noticeable. But there was a little bulge in the corner of her jaw. A clench of muscle. Her gaze was so intense at the flames. She was mastering herself. She was almost failing.
Good.
“Thank you, Hettie. Get some sleep. Do you think we will reach Silvandom tomorrow?”
She nodded absently. Then taking her warm blanket, she nestled near the fire. Her cheeks were flushed. She stared at the flames, as if drawing in their heat through her eyes.
Tell me what is troubling you, he nearly whispered. Trust me, Hettie. You can trust me.
She said nothing. Soon her eyelids were growing heavy. A few moments more, and she was asleep. He studied her face. He longed to stroke her hair. He swallowed the pang, mustering his will to save him from his feelings.
How many times had Master Shivu taught him? To be prepared for his life’s journey as a Bhikhu, he needed to purify his thoughts and feelings. You have the power to decide, deliberately and intentionally, what thoughts you allow in your mind and what emotions you feel in your heart. By patient and persistent practice, he knew he could gradually gain control over his harmful emotions. The discipline and effort involved would be worthwhile, for it would bring greater harmony internally—in his own mind—and externally, in his relations with others.
He sighed deeply. In the temple, in the confines of the training yard, the lessons were so easily accepted. But since leaving Kenatos, he had experienced stronger emotions than he had ever imagined existed inside him. Hatred of Kiranrao. Jealousy of Annon. Even desire for Hettie. He recognized these as base emotions. They needed to be controlled.
Staring at her sleeping would not help him gain control of his emotions. Instead, he stared at the ring on his finger. The markings on it were intricate. It was a work of great craftsmanship. It was a prison. He despised it. He was willing to lose his finger if Tyrus could not find a way to remove it.
You realize that removing the ring will kill you. I am certain you are clever enough to consider that, but just to be sure.
The whisper in his mind was so real. He could hear the Arch-Rike’s voice as fresh as it had been in that horrible, stench-filled cell.
Of course you can hear me, Paedrin.
His eyes widened. Was he going mad?
Not mad. Naive. Believe me, boy, a little salve cannot save you from my influence. I let you go. You are my servant. I let you escape. You will become a Kishion, and you will serve me. No, do not try to stand up. Stay where you are. You will say nothing. You will speak nothing of this discovery to anyone. I bind your tongue. Here are your instructions. When you reach Silvandom, you must take the dagger from Tyrus. You must kill him with it. And then you must hand it to me. Is that perfectly clear to you? Those are my orders. I will prevent the blade from destroying your mind.
Paedrin felt the terrible compulsion overwhelm him. It thundered in his mind and screamed at him in a long, desperate howl.
You are my pawn. You are my creation. Tyrus must be stopped. It is better that one man should perish than a kingdom. He will unleash the Plague on us all. More virulent. More devastating. He must be stopped, Paedrin. You will stop him. Your first killing will bind the ring to you forever. It cannot be undone.
He felt as if his mind would melt with heat.
Kill Tyrus.
“Unfortunately in our world, ignorance more frequently begets confidence than knowledge does. You see, it is those who know little, and not those who know much, who assert that certain problems will never be solved by reason, study, and practice. Patience is the companion of wisdom.”
– Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos