Rezkin noted the brown and black feline that abruptly jumped from outside to sit on the window sill beside where Minder Finwy was standing. The others stared at the cat as well. He knew that everyone was unnerved by the furry little creature that tended to appear and disappear at will and seemed to follow him everywhere without trouble, but it was a conversation he was not ready to broach.
“It is a long story,” Rezkin said. “It is a tale of the beginning of time and of the land and of the sky—of different realms and of all the peoples who have dwelled within them. In this realm, the Realm of the Living, the story does not begin with humans. There were ancient beings and peoples long before us. That is the tale of the Ahn’an, Daem’Ahn, and Ahn’tep. Unfortunately, the few remaining records of such things were poorly preserved, and most of the knowledge has been lost with time. What I have been able to put together would not do the story justice.” He glanced at the cat that watched him with interest and said, “I hope to be able to fill in the blanks someday.” The cat blinked lazily, and he might have imagined that it grinned.
Rezkin surveyed the room. Wesson and Brandt were fixated on his telling, Millins was filling the cauldron with the water Farson had collected, Jimson had gone out to retrieve more, and the minder, Farson, and Kai were watching the cat, which was just being a cat. Yserria sat at the table with a small bowl of water rubbing furiously at the paint on her face. It was now smeared in a grey mess, as if she had stuck her wet face in a pile of ash. She would not meet his gaze, and he thought it had nothing to do with the paint.
Chapter 4
Hilith Gadderand dropped her bag as she stepped down from the gangplank onto the blessed ground. She stumbled as the solid stone of the dock seemed to sway beneath her feet. Smoothing her skirt in vain, she surveyed her surroundings. The grandest doors she had ever seen stood open to reveal a chamber large enough to fit her entire estate—well, what used to be her estate. Now, it belonged to the Raven, like everything else in the Ashaiian underworld, including her.
Small white specks were shuffling about the chamber, moving crates and bags, sweeping, and cleaning. She narrowed her eyes for a better look, and then one of the white specks turned toward her. As it got closer, she could see its pasty white skin, long claws, and sharp teeth more clearly, and she began to backpedal. Just before it reached her, she bumped into something that stopped her retreat, and she yelped. She looked up to see a handsome blonde looking down at her.
He said, “Careful, my lady. You would not wish to fall into the water.”
“Oh, that thing!” she said pointing to the creature that seemed to be grinning up at her with pleading, pale blue eyes.
The man took her elbow and moved her aside as he bent to retrieve her bag. He handed it to the little white creature who grasped it with care as it waited. “He will not harm you,” said the big blonde. He tilted his head as he looked at her again. “Have we met? You look familiar.”
She blinked at him and realized he was wearing the uniform of a soldier but with an unfamiliar tabard. She hated when she ran into people she was supposed to know but could not remember. Who was she supposed to be? “Um, I-uh—”
The man smiled as his gaze lit with knowledge. “Lady Gadderand. I remember you, now, from Port Manai.”
“Oh?” she said, still not making the connection.
He smiled and said, “I would not expect you to remember me, my lady. You were rather preoccupied with Lord Rezkin at the time.”
Hilith flushed, a rare reaction for her, but she could not deny her attraction to the mysterious young lord. She said, “He is a most distracting individual.”
“Many concur,” said the guard.
After an uncertain glance at the little white creature, Hilith turned to the man and gave him her full attention. Her appreciative gaze blatantly roved over his form, and she said, “You are an impressive specimen, as well. Your name, sir?”
The man gave her a polite bow and said, “I am Second Lieutenant Drascon of the king’s army. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Gadderand.”
“Yes, of course it is,” she said playfully. “But, the King’s Army—here?”
He motioned toward the massive opening in the mountain and said, “Welcome to Caellurum. I serve the King of Cael, True King of Ashai.”
“It is true, then? I was there when the mysterious Dark Tidings announced his claim to the Ashaiian throne, and I heard rumors of the new kingdom.” Hilith placed the back of her hand to her forehead and swooned. “It was a dreadful voyage. We had not even been allowed to disembark in Serret before more refugees were shoved onto the ship. We were held there for weeks before we were finally sent to Uthrel. We had no guarantee a ship would collect us once we were there. They said that if none arrived, we would be sold to the slavers. I have been terrified for months.”
“I am sorry for your troubles, my lady, but at least you managed to escape Skutton. Many were not so fortunate.”
She laid a hand on his arm and said, “Thank you, Lieutenant, your concern is heartening. Such sentiments are rarities these days.” With a fearful edge that was only partially feigned, she said, “But, what of this new king—Dark Tidings? Is he severe? Will he be gracious? What will become of me—of all of us?”
The lieutenant said, “He is certainly severe with his foes but seems gracious enough with those in his charge. I am sure you have little reason to worry since you are already acquainted.”
“I know the king?” she said, genuinely surprised.
“Yes, the Lord Rezkin is now our king.”
“Lord Rezkin?” she mumbled in shock. “But he is so—um …”
“Young? He may be young, but he is more knowledgeable than anyone I have ever met. Please, Lady Gadderand, follow me. I will personally see that you are assigned decent quarters.”
“Thank you,” she said absently as she followed the lieutenant. The little white creature scurried after them, lugging her bag, and he seemed overjoyed to be doing it.
Hilith had no such feelings. She was supposed to stay close to Lord Rezkin, to keep an eye on him. How was she going to get near the king? Prior to this assignment, she had never even heard of Lord Rezkin. He was no one—insignificant. She had chased the mysterious man the length of the Tremadel, through battle and misery, and across the Souelian Sea, only to find that he was completely out of her grasp.
She had thought the Raven’s assignment was meant to punish her—to get her out of the way; but now it seemed a pivotal role. The Raven had to have known. It could not be coincidence that the Raven had proclaimed his support for the True King and that the True King was the very man to whom she was supposed to ingratiate herself. She was now certain that the Raven would reappear; and, when he did, he would expect her to deliver.
Hilith was shaken from her thoughts by the mesmerizing display of glowing crystal mosaics, and she nearly bumped into the lieutenant when he stopped to allow a couple of women pass in front of them. Something tickled her memory, and then a flutter of hope snaked through her.
“Lady Frisha!” Hilith said as she rushed forward.
The young woman paused and looked at her with surprise. “Uh, L-lady Gadderand?”
Hilith took Frisha’s hands in an overly familiar grip and said, “It is good to see you well. I was so very concerned for you—for you and all your companions. Please tell me you all made it to this wondrous refuge safely.”
Frisha’s confusion was instantly replaced with melancholy. “Thank you for your concern, Lady Gadderand, but no. My cousin, Palis, did not make it. He was”—her eyes welled with tears—“he was killed in the escape.”
Although unexpected, Hilith was glad for the boon. “Oh, you poor dear,” she said as she stroked Frisha’s hair. “I know what it means to lose someone you love dearly. If you ever need to talk—or just sit in silence—with an empathetic friend, I would be honored to be of service.” Frisha shied away, and Hilith pulled her hands back with a gasp. “Oh, I am so sorry, Lady Frisha. I only just found out that you are to be queen!”