The Descendants Book One: The Broken Scroll (28 page)

She waited patiently for him to come back out of his thoughts.  His eyes met hers.  She was an enchanting woman for someone over twice his age.  “Tell me everything,” she blurted. 

Davin gave her the entire story of when he escaped the jailhouse up until their meeting in the pub.  Her intense gaze did not leave him until he was finished.  

She said, “That is an incredible story, Davin.  It is amazing that you have made it this far.  And I’m glad that you have been l
earning the magic of your kin.  If we have to resist our king through violent means, your skills will be needed.” 

  When she didn’t go into her tale right away he knew he would have to preempt her.  He knew that recalling the events of the last few weeks would be hard for her, but he needed to know.    

“You still haven’t answered my first question, Niahm,” Davin told her, knowing that she was fragile with that subject.  

She took a deep breath, obviously screwing up her courage.  “When the army began move on with my husband in tow I decided to follow them.  I was able to stay out of sight for a couple of days.  Stealing from their ration supplies at night to sustain myself, I was able to continue on with much ease.  Unfortunately, I saw much to pain my heart.  Roland was not treated well.  He was lashed several more times during those nights.  It took all I had within me not do intervene.” 

She looked away, ashamedly, for a moment.  Then turning back with woeful eyes, she continued, “More than once he tried to escape.  It was only when they threatened to begin cutting the toes of this feet, did I forget myself.  I finally snapped and lost my good judgment.  I revealed myself to them, and by doing such, was no longer able to follow in secret.  I was tossed aside and left to rot in the wilderness.  I didn’t want to return home and do nothing.  And I knew that going to the capital city would be useless on my own. 

The only other thing I could do was travel somewhere that was kept well abreast of the news of the kingdom, in case news came in about you or Roland.  A traveler told me about this place.  I’d heard of it but never been.  It seemed like a logical choice as it’s where most stop when traveling between the Greenlands and the port.  Never did I expect to actually find you here though, Davin.” 

Davin thought about the idea of her joining them before he told her.  She didn’t have any other plans at the moment and he would enjoy the familiar face.  But he knew Egan would disapprove and it didn’t seem like the right place for her.    

“What do you think you will do?” he asked curiously. 

She unfocused and stared into the distance, “I was thinking about finding a guide to the Talamaraon City.  But I don’t know anymore.” 

Then she grabbed his hand and held it tightly.  “Listen to me, Davin.  You kept to yourself and you were not kind to many people in Lemirre over the years, but they never gave up on you.  The people of Lemirre are now informed of your true ancestry and believe it as truth.  They are loyal t
o our home and you, not to our king.  They will support you in any way they can.  Those that haven’t fled to other cities have even begun to rebuild.”

Davin thought about the stipulations of that fact.  They were loyal to him.  It made him feel powerful, but it also felt like a lot of responsibility.   

And it was at that moment he knew what she needed to do. 

He could have a better chance of getting to Roland and Deverell. 

“Niahm, you need to go back to Lemirre.”  She looked at him, shocked at his sudden suggestion.  “I know that it’s probably the last place you want to be right now, but it is where you need to be.”

“Why, Davin?  This makes no sense to me.”

He continued without an answer to her question.  “Tell them that I am alive and will need their help.  Roland may have a chance.  Tell them that I need them to help me when the time comes.  You are the only one who has seen me since I left.  When my business is done, I will meet you in Swift River, north of Lemirre in the plains.  Will you do this?”

She did not argue with him anymore.  This made Davin very happy.  She was willing to do what he asked. It gave him hope that the persuasion of his very existence would work on his home town as well. 

“How long should this errand take you?” she inquired solemnly. 

“I am not sure.  I don’t even know if we will succeed in our task, and I can’t tell i
f we will need to confront the king at this point, but better to be prepared.  Be there either way, with or without the townspeople.” 

She gave him a soft smile.  “I will do this for you, Davin, because I love you as my own son.  And because you believe in what you do and speak.  You have changed much in a short time.”

He shook his head forceful, casting her words aside.  He needed to be honest and firm with her.  “No, do not say that about me.  This is for Roland life, nothing else,” he admitted.  “Whoever gets in my way, including Deverell, will wish they hadn’t.  If these people I’m traveling with do not agree to come with me to free him when the time comes, I will leave them behind.”  His voice grew stronger with every sentence.  “I still wish none of this had ever happened.”

He didn’t want to tell her that he actually needed Egan and that Teague was the rightful heir.  He didn’t even want to tell
himself
he needed them for that matter.  It would only make them harder to leave when the time came. 

Who am
I kidding, I won’t be able to put them behind me again. 

“Never the less,” she pointed her finger at him, accusatorily, “you are still taking charge of your life.  You are trying to do something that
will
change other’s fates, even if you don’t mean to.” 

She stretched and yawned as he took in what she said.  This was the first time he had been told he was doing the right thing.  It felt good, and a little sickening at the same time. 

He gave her a warm smile that told her he accepted the compliment, though he still didn’t agree.  It was nothing like what Liam had done, and Liam wasn’t going to be remembered for his act except by very few.

No, Davin did not deserve praise yet. 

“I think that we should get some rest.  We both have hard travels ahead of us tomorrow,” she said.  She turned to get up, then stopped, and bore her gaze into him.  “Promise me this, Davin.  You will live to return and meet me, whether it is to fight together or not.  I wish to spend time with my godson again.”  

Davin nodded slowly.  “I will return to see you again, Niahm.”

She gave him a kiss on one cheek and left the table, heading upstairs.  Davin was left to the sounds of the late night patrons in the pub enjoying their drinks and conversing jovially.  He looked around.  No one had the slightest idea that what they were plotting.  It would even be considered by some as rebellion. Davin didn’t want war.  He wanted Deverell’s life and his godfather.  Whatever happened in the end, there was no turning back after tomorrow.  He hoped he had made the right decision.

Chapter 16 A King’s Ailment

The royal chamber of the King was tall enough to house several giants stacked one on top of the other.  Fortunately, those were hard to come by in modern times.  Grand pillars stood on either side of the blood red carpet that led to the throne.  The pillars were spiraled with solid gold accents to boldly advertise the wealth of the King.  But everywhere else you looked on the ground or on the walls was the dullness of white.  The only thing that broke up the monotony was a sole artist rendering of Artair O’Hara’s father, the late Avery O’Hara. 

The chamber was not to his liking, but it had been designed a thousand years ago, and its design had a purpose.  The chamber was plain to keep the King from being distracted from important matters.  It was necessary that each King be fully informed and completely focused on the decision at hand.  He had to make the right choice for his people, after all.  

King O’Hara drummed his fingers on the armrest of his throne as he awaited his Advisors.  He did not look well.  His face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, and heavy bags rested beneath his eye lids.  His ill manner had gone on too long and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.  Times had been better. 

Though his strange sickness was taking a lot out of him, he still needed have regular audiences.  He needed to be abreast of the status of things.  Where most would retire from their duties until they were well, he did not have this luxury.  The world still turned with or without him, and he could not afford to be seen as weak.  Whispers had reached his ears, more than once, of plots against him.  Not the least of these rumors was of the First Captain of the Grand Army himself.  Still, they were only rumors, he told himself. 

The tall door directing ahead of him, across the chamber, began to creak with a familiar sound.  Slowly it opened and a handful of men trickled in.  They were dressed regally for the audience with their King.  A couple of them he knew well, as he had spoken to a number of the Guilds on various occasions.  He had allowed First Captain Cygnus Deverell to make the final decision of replacing his old Advisors with the Guild Leaders.  Why he made this decision he didn’t know.  The whole situation had seemed strangely out of his hands.  First Captain Deverell could be quite persuasive when he needed to be. 

The sight of his First Captain caused his thoughts to cease.  Deverell had stepped through the door after the last of the Advisors.  He wore his traditional military commander outfit and walked with an air of exceeding confidence. 

When they all reached with a few feet of the throne they bowed deeply in unison.  O’Hara inclined his head slightly, accepting their reverence. 

None of them spoke while O’Hara called for several chairs to be brought out for his advisors to sit. It had been deemed law in O’Hara’s reign, when in the presence of the King, to not speak freely until you were officially greeted by him.  No one argued it to his face, though over the years many subjects had complained about how impersonal and strict he was.  The men in this chamber held tightly to the custom. 

One by one the servants continued their task while O’Hara waited patiently for them to finish.  Deverell began to shift when time stretched to over a minute.  O’Hara ignored him.  Deverell scratched his beard hastily, as if debating to risk insulting his King.  The other men looked completely at ease.  They showed no loss of restraint. 

After another minute passed without a word he marched forward and spoke.  “Sir, we have urgent business to discuss.  Can the formalities be dismissed for this instance?” he asked, speaking in the slimy tone that dug beneath skin of everyone present. 

The other men looked at him with disgust.  The one called Randall, leader of the Farmowners Guild reprimanded him.  “How dare you mock our King with your words?  You are out of line, Captain.”  Then he turned to the King as if seeking approval for his outburst.  “The formalities must be obeyed.  Is this not true, Your Highness?” 

King O’Hara stood up smoothly, though it took more strength than he felt it should. Despite this, he showed no sign of outward weakness.  That would be unwise, especially in the presence of his eager, but arrogant,
First Captain. 

“Yes that is correct, Advisor Randall,” replied the king in his most commanding voice.
He turned to Deverell, “Commander, you are not exempt from the laws because of your position.”

King O’Hara waited for him to bow and apologize, but he did neither.  Instead, Deverell bowed his head to the smallest degree and kept silent.  When he brought he gaze back up, he bore it into the King.  O’Hara held his own glare for several seconds and then turned away. 

“However,” O’Hara began again, “these are special circumstances that we meet today.  It would be wise to move things forward quickly.”

All of the other Advisors mumbled under their breath, dismayed that their King had let this disrespect go.  One Advisor called Gregory of Slainte, the Shiprunners Guild Leader, expressed his feelings. 

“This is outrageous.  First Captain Deverell has insulted you and you do nothing to put him in his place.”

O’Hara raised his voice as loud as he could without yelling.  It strained him so he chose his words carefully.  “Now I am afraid that you too have overstepped your bounds, Advisor.  You will stand down before your King.”

Gregory’s face grew red.  He was embarrassed about his sudden lack of judgment.  He knelt down on one knee, giving O’Hara the highest form of silent respect a King could receive. 

“I am sorry, Highness.  It will not happen again,” he said weakly. 

O’Hara was satisfied.  His voice returned to its calm state. “Rise, Advisor Gregory, it is forgotten.  Let us move onto more important matters.”

No one said anything while they waited to begin, not even Deverell.  The Advisors didn’t want to upset the King again, but Deverell had a different motive. 

The group retreated to the Council Table on the left side of the room.  O’Hara was the last to arrive and took his seat gingerly. 

Not wanting to prolong the proceedings, O’Hara began.  “How does the search for the st
range document go, Commander?”