The Stolen Prince (Blood for Blood Book 1) (9 page)

“When he arrived at this land, he discovered a hostile people with claws for hands and mud for eyes. They ate human flesh, knew no language or culture. King Hava Arden tried first to teach them words, the ways of the Master and the keepers.”

Truthsinger drew frightening pictures of the Terra. They were rarely called the Terra. In the stories, they were called the earth people, mud dwellers, dirt eaters, and beasts. They had fangs for teeth and deep brown eyes. Their claws dripped with blood. Kara turned away from the canvas. Her childhood had been full of nightmares about the Terra—the barbarians who knew no light or culture, no refinement—and they haunted her imagination. Her father forbade her to visit the slave yards, but she had no problem staying away. She pitied her poor ancestor who tried so hard to teach them civilization.

“It was all in vain. They were like untamed wolves, poisonous weeds, wild cats that turn on their masters. King Hava Arden taught them how to plant, the way that he had learned in the old country. He taught them husbandry and agriculture and art and language.” Truthsinger drew the Terra planting and taming livestock. “But they were ungrateful, and they rebelled against their benefactor. It began with snatchings in the night. They began to steal wives, children, sons.” Truthsinger looked at King Arden pointedly as he drew a little boy being taken from his mother’s arms. “When they began to murder, King Hava Arden finally listened to the Master. He saw that the Alem were sent here as a superior people, to rid the land of this evil. In order for his people to survive and for the land to thrive, he must drive out this evil.

“There are some who are born good and some who are born with darkness in their hearts.” Truthsinger paused to let his gaze fall across everyone individually. His eyes met Kara’s, and then he turned to draw. He sketched a large map across the center of the canvas. He zipped across the canvas, landing higher on the small wood planks that jutted out, reaching the top easily. As he zipped, Kara could sense the air being sucked from the room as Truthsinger took little bits of air with him as he flew across the canvas.

Soon she could see her world mapped. On the west were Atmen and the Glacier Mountains. Northwest, beyond the mountain passes, were the coastlines stretching upward—King Darr’s kingdom among them. To the right of Atmen were the Great Plains, broken up by patches of forest, rifts, and rivers. To the north were the many lakes and snaking rivers where most of the Su lived. South, the long coast. And far in the east, so far away from her home, was the long stretch of wilderness, the Desolate Forest with its Desolate Mountains.

“The king knew of the Desolate Forest to the east. It was full of poisons, wild beasts, and trees that ate a man alive. It was a place of darkness and evil. Long ago, it was said that there was a race of men who could port using fire living in these mountains. The Master cursed the place, making it unfit for all that was good and full of truth. King Hava Arden wisely considered the Desolate Forest a fitting new home for the Terra. With the superior power to port using air, our ancestors were easily able to drive the ignorant Terra away and into the forest, where they disappeared for a hundred years.

Truthsinger pulled out a brush and dipped it in blue paint and painted above the Northern Lakes a pair of crystal blue eyes.

“We were helped in our cause, of course, by our friends, the water–eyed Su. And for their friendship and loyalty, they were given a place among the air people.”

Kara glanced at the many Su servants to see their reaction, but they remained stone faced. They didn’t even look proud.

Truthsinger continued to draw across the canvas, stretching out the coastline. “More and more people came from the old land, populating the coasts. Kingdoms were created, friendships emerged.” Kara thought she heard a snort. Everyone knew that her father was the king of this land because he was a pure descendent of King Hava Arden, the first among the air conquerors, but they also knew that other kingdoms wanted to vie for his position. They didn’t like to be overruled by a “who–was–here–first” mentality. The peace between kingdoms barely held together. King Arden’s superiority in fighting and leadership is what gave Atmen its incredible power over the other kingdoms. That, and the fact that this land was rightfully theirs.

“When tensions were about to mount between the kingdoms of Alem,” Truthsinger said, drawing little castles and serfdoms across the western edge of the map, “the extraordinary happened.” His hand moved rapidly, illustrating as he spoke.

“The Terra appeared again. They ported into the citadel, massacred hundreds of soldiers, and almost assassinated the king. They could not overcome the mighty King Arden. He fought them off single–handedly. While he was fighting to defend the citadel, a Terra zipped his way into the queen’s chambers.” He drew the picture of a babe, with the tattoo of a crown prince on his forehead. Truthsinger himself had been the one to give that tattoo. His words were filled with emotion. Emotion that Kara’s parents didn’t show. “Before this, it was believed the Terra could not port. But here was a zipper and a vanisher! As if out of a nightmare, the Terra zipper stole the prince and heir. The vanisher took them both, leaving their fighting comrades to be slaughtered.”

Truthsinger drew images of war now, using charcoal and red paint. “War was declared. The code demands a son’s death be avenged. The soldiers of Atmen engaged in two great vengeances, three years apart. The Terra came from the forest in waves, leaving behind great cities of ash. But with each attack, the Alem were stronger. They slaughtered thousands of Terra, making slaves of the captured.”

Kara noticed Truthsinger conveniently left out the part where her father had been so grief stricken, he had sent his first army into the Desolate Forest without any preparation. And nearly all of them were killed or went missing. She had learned that in her lessons with the Keepers of the Past, only after she had sworn to never speak of it. No one liked to think of their king making mistakes.

Truthsinger continued to paint. A beautiful portrait began to cover the entire canvas. On it was a map of Alem, complete with illustrations of the generations of kings and the histories of the wars. Women and children with faces of horror. Houses and forest burning. At the top of the canvas, he added an image of Kara holding the hand of Prince Sesto. Rays of light seemed to emanate from them. “And now, we celebrate the hope of the future,” Truthsinger said. “Where allied kingdoms will continue to fight against evil and plant hope in all things.” He drew Queen Sabola and King Arden, hands united, as a vision of peace and prosperity. It brought tears to Kara’s eyes. She watched Prince Sesto’s face, and he was watching keenly, awestruck.

Truthsinger bowed as the music finished. The work and history were complete.

The royalty stood up to view the artwork up close—this was the highest praise for an artist. A few raised their glasses to the truthsinger. Others brought him their own glasses to drink from.

“You have a remarkable truthsinger, King Arden,” King Darr said after a moment.

King Arden nodded, solemn. Truthsinging always made him solemn, but he still insisted on it. Kara realized that truthsingers were the only ones among the high classes allowed to betray emotions—in many ways they were to express the emotions of the masses and the royalty. The art expressed what kings could not say or show. While their honor prevented showing such emotion, they could respect an outward expression of it in the form of art. Truthsinger’s canvas would hang in the gallery, where all of his other portraits and stories hung and where the truthsingers before him had placed their works of art.

Kara watched Truthsinger as he bowed and received the compliments of the royalty politely. Then he dismissed himself and moved toward the dining table. He was probably famished after such a performance.

Kara nodded to Prince Sesto and the queen and excused herself from the table. She moved to the desserts, grabbing a cream tart. She popped it into her mouth and walked toward Truthsinger.

“Did you like the ending, miss?” Truthsinger asked before she could even clear her throat to speak with him. Seeing her surprise, he said, “I believe in making the first move in any duel.”

“Are we dueling?”

“A conversation is a kind of duel.”

“Not between friends, is it?” she asked. Truthsinger was popping deer meat into his mouth, picking from the table rather than grabbing a plate. He was such an artist, terribly uncivilized.

“I believe we were friends, Kara, but now you are a patron,” he said curtly.

Kara frowned, betraying her heartache. “No, I didn’t like the ending. I think you paint the ‘truth’ a bit optimistically. I don’t see how my union with Prince Sesto will bring peace and prosperity to the kingdom. It rang falsely.” Kara knew she was just saying this to get back at Truthsinger, but it hurt her that now he thought of her as a benefactor, rather than a confidant and friend. Or even a student.

“Which part was false?”

“Well, you painted him smiling.”

Truthsinger let out a laugh like tinkling crystal. Everyone looked toward him, and he grinned openly. Then his voice grew soft so only Kara could hear. “Don’t be bitter toward me, Kara, or toward your future. I paint the truth in my histories as we want to see it. I’ve always told you that. And I want to see the prince smiling when he looks at you as much as everyone else. Otherwise he doesn’t deserve you.”

Kara looked up at her old teacher as he took a slab of bread with butter on it. “Has everything changed now, Truthsinger? Tell me truly.”

“If it hasn’t, it will. I cannot pretend otherwise. I would be dishonoring my purpose.”

Kara nodded. Hard truths existed all around her. Would she rather have people lie to her? No, but still she wished that someone would buck tradition and remain her friend. She curtsied to Truthsinger. “Thank you for that song. It gave me air to breath.”

Truthsinger nodded, appearing grateful for the high compliment. Kara turned back to the table with a fresh realization. She had to let go of the hope that things would remain the same. It was as simple as that.

“This has been quite a feast,” King Darr was saying, “and now that my dessert is finished, shall we discuss our joint campaign against the Terra?” King Darr looked up at Kara. “I think the princess and the prince have had enough time to get acquainted.”

Acquainted? The prince has hardly said a word!
Kara looked at her father in disbelief.

“Indeed,” King Arden said. “Kara, it is time you retire.” He gave her a nod, an invitation to leave. Even he was cordial toward her now. “A war discussion is no place for a princess.”

Kara wanted to stay. Why shouldn’t she know more about what was going on if this was still her kingdom? She glanced at her mother who was subtly shaking her head.
Fine
, she thought. “Well, may I join you after?”

King Arden shook his head. “I will take the men and show them our armies. It will only bore you.” He nodded, dismissing her curtly again. Kara forced herself to nod politely and turned away.

But she wasn’t going to leave. She moved away toward the door, and when she was sure no one was watching her anymore, she slipped behind one of the long curtains. She peaked out, watching the curtains that blocked the open windows. She waited for a draft of wind to pick up, and then, when she got a clear sight, she zipped across the room.

Quickly, she slipped behind the heavy curtains right next to the open windows. The chill of the outside winter shocked her breath, and she pulled her cape tightly around herself and slunk toward the curtain that was right behind Truthsinger’s painted canvas.

The men in the room, and a few of the higher ranked women, were now gathered around the portrait, looking at the map. It was typical that a discussion of war followed a history truthsinging. Truthsinger was always sure to draw a map for the purposes of discussion. The other images were meant to act as markers in the discussion.

“We must bring them out of the mountains,” Kara’s father was saying. “Our men will die if we go inside. We have created a smoke screen, so only vanishers can get through. A zipper can’t see anything. They can only escape the forest in small groups. An entire army wouldn’t get past our troops stationed there.”

“And if it did?” King Darr asked skeptically.

“Then we would disregard caution and strike them as hard as we did in the First Vengeance. For now, they have been pillaging a village here or there and freeing only a few hundred slaves. Not much to blink an eye at yet.”

“Why not burn the entire forest?”

“It is too close to the Great Plains, and we risk burning our crops if the fire goes wild. Also, the spring storms cause their own wild fires in the mountains. If they attack during our spring, we will have the advantage.”

“Your spring? Isn’t it the same season here as it is there?” King Darr asked with surprise.

“No, the mountains delay our seasons. It is winter here and spring there. The seasons spread west, hitting the Great Plains before they hit us. Spring is just starting to bud in the farms and villages.”

“Ah,” King Darr said. The coastal kingdoms knew so little about this continent, Kara realized. They were confined to the temperate climate along the coast beyond the mountains. Still, Kara was surprised that King Darr actually looked intelligent when he was discussing war. Prince Sesto, however, was still seated at the table with a dull expression, eating a crumb cake.

General Elik stepped forward, pointing his finger at the long stretch of land between Atmen and Desolation. “If they attack, they will probably start with the Great Plains. I would want to create an escape route for those who run the farms and orchards in the villages and townships. This area makes me nervous. We cannot go after them, for they live in too harsh an environment.” Elik glanced at Arden. “We learned that in the First and Second Vengeance. But if they decide to attack us, that leaves us in a vulnerable position. Most of the city and townships are close to the kingdom, but our crops are on the outside of the city. We could face famine within a year if they attack before harvest.”