Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One (20 page)

Whyn took his place behind the altar and
stood next to the Priestess. She gathered his hand in hers and
placed it on the breast of the dove, leaving a smear of blood upon
his fingers. His hand moved to his chest and he laid it across his
heart. A stain of red darkened the pale fabric of his tunic. Words
of honor, commitment, and loyalty were spoken between them, and
when the ritual was finally complete, the Priestess placed a
jeweled circlet of silver upon his brow. He bowed to her, and she
smiled then raised her hands to the crowd, pronouncing Whyn the
King of Tearia. The crowd applauded with loud acclaim.

The Priestess seated herself as Whyn walked
around the altar to the edge of the portico to address the crowd.
His eyes swept over them, resting his gaze on as many individual
faces as time would allow.

“Citizens of Tearia,” he said in a booming
voice, “the era of my father has passed. I stand before you now as
your King, a king whose only duty is to lead Tearia to a new age of
greatness.”

The crowd cheered, lifting their eyes and
arms up to him in adoration.

“But there is much work to be done, for as of
late there have been voices raised against us. As your King I
hereby set forth the following proclamations to ward off any
insurgency and to ensure Tearia’s continued prosperity!”

The crowd shouted words of support and
encouragement. Whyn’s breast swelled with appreciation, even as he
suppressed his resentment toward the traitors he knew to be amongst
them.

“A great lie has been circulating,” he
continued. “A lie that goes against the gods as well as our great
city-state. And that lie is the Prophecy! It speaks of our
downfall, of one who would see to our destruction. But I say to you
now, there is no truth in it. It was a lie perpetrated by a
sorceress of old—a Jecta witch who sought to rally our enemies and
do us harm.” He lifted a finger and pointed it outward, moving it
slowly from one end of the crowd to the other. “Any amongst you who
speak of this so-called prophecy and spread its lies and give power
to it where none is due is hereby declared a traitor. From this day
forward any person—man, woman, or child—making reference to it will
be permanently silenced.”

Gasps could be heard as the meaning of his
words sank in. The people of Tearia had always had the power of
free speech, though rarely had anyone raised words against the
city-state. But now their king was telling them there were
limitations as to what they could say, and death was the
consequence for anyone who disobeyed. The audience grew agitated
and increasingly restless. The guards fingered their swords. People
responded with startled screams. Women pulled children close to
their sides.

Whyn raised his hands to silence the crowd.
“Why do you cry out?” he said. “Are you not loyal citizens of
Tearia? If so, you have nothing to fear. For if you are indeed
loyal, you will have no need to speak lies against her. Rest
assured, I hold no grudge against any of you who have spoken of the
Prophecy before this day. You did not understand what you were
doing. No doubt you were lured by a misunderstanding of its
purpose. But I tell you this: its purpose is to bring Tearia down,
and for that reason it is treason to speak of it from this day
forward.”

The crowd quieted for a moment, no doubt
grateful that past transgressions were forgiven. Many of them had
spoken of the Prophecy, whether they believed in it or not.

“The Jecta are the source of the deceptions
that have brought us to this,” Whyn said, “and for that reason
Tearian residents will no longer be allowed to venture into Pobu.
Anyone going to that place will be looked upon with suspicion.
There is no business any of you should have there. There is talk of
rebellion within the Jecta population. But fear not, the insurgents
will be quashed before they can draw another breath against us. Too
long have we been complacent. Too long have we turned a blind eye
while plots are made against us.”

The people encouraged their king with loud
declarations against the Jecta. Whyn waited patiently, allowing the
wave of support to rise throughout the crowd. He raised a hand to
silence them.

“Now I must speak to you of the most
difficult thing of all, for it involves he who was once my brother.
But Ruairi is my brother no longer. He chose to disobey the King’s
command and disregarded Temple law. For that he was unnamed. Now he
is called Reiv and lives amongst the others of his kind. Some among
you call him the “Unnamed One.” Some even dare proclaim him a
Transcendor, further fueling the lies. Only a traitor would call
him such! I am here to tell you, he is no one.

“He was arrested for stealing not long ago.
Many of you saw him with two others as they were taken. The
Priestess in her mercy recognized him for what he once was and took
pity upon him. He was released to Pobu, forever to remain outside
our walls. But he repays her with lies and claims of a role in the
Prophecy. I sought council with him, only to ask that he proclaim
the truth about himself for the sake of Tearia. But he hides like a
coward. Now I am forced to make this dictate. From this day forward
the words ‘Unnamed One’ and ‘Transcendor’ are banned in his regard,
as are any words related to prophecy or foretelling. I further
proclaim that never again are the names ‘Ruairi’ or ‘Reiv’ to be
uttered in Tearia. If any among you, or your children, have those
names, or any part of them sounded within your name, they are to be
changed. He no longer exists, nor do his names.”

The crowd bowed their heads in submission,
though varying degrees of opinion and sentiment could be heard
throughout. The Priestess rose and smiled as her eyes scanned her
subjects. But Whyn looked at only one person, a member of the royal
family seated on the front row.

Brina sat with stiff grace, her expression
strained. Whyn nodded as their eyes met, but she clenched her jaw
and turned her face away. Whyn was certain his aunt’s heart was
breaking, but he felt no pity for her. He knew she was a traitor,
and she knew it, too. Her time would come, but not yet.

BACK TO ToC

Chapter 19: Promise Broken

R
eiv sat next to
Kerrik’s cot, waiting. It was nearly high sun, yet the boy still
had not awoken. His breathing was steady, but his face was ashen,
and the circles under his eyes left Reiv worried that recovery was
not assured.

He placed a hand on the boy’s forehead.
“Kerrik,” he said softly. But there was no response.

“He sleeps most of the time,” Torin said as
he entered the hut.

Reiv rose, gazing at Kerrik a moment more
before joining Torin on the mats by the fire pit. Torin handed him
a mug of coconut juice and a bit of dried meat. Reiv looked down at
it with curiosity. They didn’t have dark meat very often, but he
knew better than to ask the Shell Seeker where he had gotten
it.

“Don’t worry,” Torin said, “he’ll awaken soon
enough, and then you’ll wish he was still sleeping. His mouth is
the one thing that hasn’t slowed down.” Torin laughed.

“I miss his incessant chattering,” Reiv said,
then frowned. “He still does not look well.”

“It will take time, but he’s much better than
he was. He’ll have you diving for shells with him in no time.”

“I do not like the idea of him going back
into the waters,” Reiv said. “It is too dangerous, and he is too
little.”

“He is a Shell Seeker. That’s what Shell
Seekers do; they dive. He can’t be afraid of the waters. If he is,
he’ll be forced into them. How else will he earn his living? No, if
he shows any fear of it…well, just don’t add to it.”

“I have never seen him afraid of anything.
Hopefully that has not changed in him.”

“I think you’ll find he’s still the same
Kerrik, except for the physical scars and temporary lack of
mobility. Look at it this way, now our little warrior has a great
new battle to tell tale of. How many people can say they met
Seirgotha?”

“Only me,” Reiv said.

“But if it wasn’t for
me
, you wouldn’t
have gotten to!” a small voice said from the cot.

Reiv grinned and made his way over. “That is
right. What a lucky prince I was.”

Kerrik grinned back at him, his eyes
sparkling in spite of the gloomy circles underneath them. “Tell me
how you killed her, Reiv. Tell me how you killed Seirgotha!”

“Have we not already told you a hundred
times?” Torin said from across the room.

“Well Reiv hasn’t told me, and he was there,
not you Torin.”

Torin shook his head with resolution. “You’re
right, what do I know?”

Reiv told Kerrik the story, elaborating every
detail with a peppering of exaggerated hand gestures and facial
expressions.

The boy watched in rapt attention, strangely
quiet during the entire telling. At times Kerrik’s eyes would grow
wide and his jaw slack. With each new piece of gory information he
would sit up a little straighter until finally he was upright and
clutching at the covers.

“There, now you know it all,” Reiv said.

“Not about the ritual; you haven’t told me
about that!”

Reiv’s face grew solemn. “I do not wish to
speak about it.”

“Oh, please. Besides, I think you
have
to tell me,” Kerrik said.

“Oh, and why is that?”

Kerrik twisted his mouth and rolled his eyes
as though searching for an answer. “Because legend says that if the
healer does not tell the sick person everything, then the sick
person can’t get well.”

“You made that up, Kerrik,” Torin said.

Kerrik looked offended, but guilty. Reiv
raised his eyebrows suspiciously. “Is that true? Are you making up
stories?”

“Well…I’m not making it up. I mean, it popped
into my head just now, so maybe the gods told it to me. You know,
like the gods told you things.”

“I see. Well, if I had known messages from
the gods came so easily, I would not have gone through the
ritual.”

Kerrik put on his most disappointed face. No
doubt his injuries had not weakened his power of manipulation. Reiv
found his ability to fight that pitiful look far more challenging
than battling sea snakes or facing gods. And so he told Kerrik
about the ritual, though he did not tell him everything. When he
finished, he paused, then asked, “Kerrik, do you remember the
promise I made you?”

“What promise?”

“When we thought we had lost you, out there
on the beach, I made you a promise.”

“I don’t remember. What was it?”

“I hesitate to tell you because now I must
break it.”

“I thought you said princes never broke their
promises.”

Reiv could not help but laugh. “Ah, so you do
remember that much. Well, it seems I must break this one. I
promised you I would teach you to fight with the Lion—”

Kerrik jerked with excitement. “You
will
? You—”

Reiv laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Calm
yourself. What I have to tell you is that I cannot do it. I have
learned something about the sword that I did not know before. I
will never use it again, nor will you be allowed to.”

Kerrik again looked disappointed, but Reiv
quickly added, “I have something much better though.”

He rose and walked over to his sleeping
pallet and pulled the dirk from beneath it. Then he held it up and
proclaimed, “This is what I used to slay Seirgotha. Dayn made it
for me. It is not as long as the sword, but it is much stronger. It
is of star metal. This is what I will teach you with.”

Kerrik’s face lit up and he instantly reached
for it. Reiv crossed over and placed the dirk into his unsplinted
hand. It was heavy, and at first the boy had difficulty holding it
up. But he fixed his eyes upon it with determination and held the
weapon out before him, the muscles in his skinny arm taut with
effort.

“You must get stronger if you are to wield
it,” Reiv said. “It is a man’s weapon, but I think you will soon be
ready for it. You had best do what Jensa and Torin tell you if you
are to get out of this bed. I will train no weakling.”

Kerrik nodded, but remained silent. The
excitement in his eyes said all that needed to be said.

* * * *

That afternoon Reiv took Kerrik outside to
sit in the warmth of the sun, but he would not allow the boy to
take the dirk with him. Though everyone in the village knew Reiv
had the weapon in his possession, there was too much risk to be
seen with it again. The spy who had attempted to kill him during
the ritual had not yet been found, although an old man who lived in
the outskirts of the village had mysteriously disappeared in the
days following Reiv’s transcension.

Reiv’s attention turned up the path where he
could see Jensa making her way toward them. She had stayed the
night in Pobu, and he was anxious to hear what had transpired
during the rest of the meeting. She arrived, smiling, and gave
Kerrik a hug and a kiss. “I think you’ve been out here long enough,
Kerrik,” she said. “Your face is flushed.” She nodded at Reiv, her
eyes conveying a silent message.

“Up you go,” Reiv said as he lifted the boy
into his arms. “Time for sleep. No arguments.”

Kerrik mumbled a complaint as Reiv took him
inside and lowered him onto the cot. But he closed his eyes as
instructed. He had become unusually obedient since learning of the
dirk.

Reiv exited the hut and walked over to Jensa
who had moved to a cluster of palms nearby. Torin was at her side.
“What news do you have?” Reiv asked.

“Much. Before I left Pobu I received word
that your brother was crowned this morning. It seems he made some
very interesting proclamations.”

“But it has not yet been eight—”

“Regardless, the coronation took place this
morning and the King has proclaimed that anyone speaking words of
the Prophecy—or you—is a traitor. He has also banned all Tearian
travel to Pobu and the outlying areas.”