Book One, page 7
Braahn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hasn’t she endured enough?” he asked angrily, and Khael lowered his eyes. “She must’ve been so frightened knowing how excruciating the transfer was going to be.” He then saw something in his brother’s face he didn’t like. “Khael, was Khaeri prepared for the possibility that the transfer could happen that way? Did you and mae’ discuss it with her?” Khael clasped his hands before him, his knuckles white with strain, and Braahn nearly choked on his next words. “Did mae’ force this on her against her will?” When Khael remained silent, Aa’rel gasped and Braahn felt his entire body go numb. “How could she do this? And how could you allow it?” Braahn was finding it very difficult to speak. “You just stood by and watched, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” he screamed with spittle flying from his lips.
“Please understand, Braahn. We had to prepare for the possibility without Khaeri’s knowledge because, as you know, she showed no interest in ruling and becoming the next Am’ru. But with the threat of invasion, time was growing short, which meant we couldn’t wait for her to accept her responsibilities. Mae’ really didn’t have a choice, b’iera,” he said in a voice raw with emotion. “She was dying and the demon wanted the Su’wah. She had no choice, Braahn. She had no choice!”
Khael’s eyes begged for his brother’s understanding, but when he received none, he covered his face with his hands. Yes, he had ignored his sister’s pleas to make it stop; he’d stood by and allowed his mae’ to do what she had to do to save her family and her world, and he was filled with self-loathing because of it. Initially, he’d actually fought her and Zefnah on keeping their plans a secret from Khaeri, but over time he had come to agree with them and he’d come to realise that no matter the consequences, they had to do what was necessary for the sake of the galaxy and ultimately the universe. His mae’im had always suspected that her enemy would confront her personally and that there was a possibility that she could die during that confrontation. There was therefore no question that the transfer needed to happen—with or without Khaeri’s consent. It was the only plan the three of them had come up with that would ensure the Sword never fell into the hands of the enemy.
It was the only way. The only way, Khael told himself over and over again.
“When will this change start?” Aa’rel asked, her strained voice breaking through into Khael’s dark thoughts.
“Within a few hours,” he whispered, “I’m not exactly sure but maybe by this evening.”
“You shis’ai,” Braahn hissed, and Khael flinched.
“Braahn, please.” Aa’rel placed a hand on his arm, but he shook it off roughly and continued to glare daggers at his brother. He didn’t notice the hurt look on Aa’rel’s face.
Khael stood up on shaky legs and walked to the stream where he knelt down and tried to calm himself. He started when a hand touched his shoulder then relaxed when Jae’el hunkered down next to him. They sat in silence for a while.
Jae’el switched to Basic because he needed to think and speak quickly. Even after a year he found Old Tongue a difficult language. “I’m sorry to make you think about practical matters but we have to move now if we are going to get to the house and then back into the forest before Khaeri goes through this . . . change.”
Khael found his cousin’s clear thinking comforting, and he nodded in agreement, glad to have his help and understanding.
“Will we find everything we need there?”
Khael cleared his throat and replied in Basic. “Yes. We used to stay there a few weeks every year before the first snows. You and Aa’rel missed out this year because of this damn invasion. We all have a full wardrobe and more than enough weapons for hunting and fighting. There are also two strongboxes on the property—one for the Head Servant, Jossell, to pay the servants and gardeners, who stay there permanently and take care of the house and grounds, and the other is in my mae’im’s chambers hidden under the floor.”
“That’s good. Let’s hope the invaders have not discovered the house yet. We must leave as soon as it’s light enough to see better.” He squeezed his cousin’s shoulder in an effort to comfort him. “From what you’ve told me from the discussions in the War Room, the invaders focused their initial ground invasion north and east of Malkhyrin, so I thought we should travel west and keep to the forests until we decide what to do. Do you know of any caves or hunting cabins near the house where we can take Khaeri while she goes through this change? It’s safer if we remain off the main paths.”
A memory surfaced of one time in early spring about two years ago when Khael had gone hunting with his brothers—well, Jarath had gone along just to get some fresh air—and they’d found some caves while tracking a rabid wolf that had been terrorising the local villages and farmers. They’d followed the sick animal through thick brush growing against a cliff face and eventually cornered the wolf inside the caves and killed it. It was the perfect place to hide for a few days and he told Jae’el he was sure he could find it again.
They continued making plans while Braahn and Aa’rel packed up their meagre possessions and hitched a refreshed Myrllon to the wagon. Earlier, Aa’rel had noticed a severe burn in the palm of Khaeri’s right hand and realised that it was most probably caused by the transfer. It would leave a scar in the shape of a sun with rays flaring out from a near perfect circle. Aa’rel used another piece of torn off petticoat to wrap around her cousin’s hand to keep it clean and hoped there were decent medical supplies at the country house.
After Khael and Jae’el had carried Khaeri to the wagon and had put her on the blankets between her brothers, Jae’el took the reins and guided Myrllon back to the country road where he pushed the steed as fast as he dared. Braahn and Khael kept a sharp lookout the enemy, and Aa’rel took the opportunity to examine Khaeri’s body for further signs of injury. She noticed ugly red welts on her right arm, and when she lifted her blouse she saw more welts concentrated on her right side across her upper back, shoulder, chest, and neck. Aa’rel had not noticed them before and wondered if they were spreading, and she prayed to Kurrn they were not. Finding a physician now would be almost impossible and much too dangerous because they couldn’t go anywhere near densely populated areas where the invaders were no doubt putting their main focus. The family would be too exposed and the enemy might just decide to attack the town while they were visiting it.
Aa’rel had begun enthusiastically studying the healing arts since first arriving on Theras. Her father was aware of her desire to study medicine, but he was against her pursuing it seriously because she had greater responsibilities as Verai’s princess. Her mother had passed away when Aa’rel was five, and she had taken up what would have been her mother’s duties as queen as soon as she was old enough to do so. Medicine was traditionally reserved for labourers of lower station than a royal, but Ahloren had encouraged her the moment she had heard what her niece wanted to focus on while visiting Malkhyrin—besides helping her aunt with the day-to-day running of the palace while she focused on preparing Theras for war. Aa’rel was overjoyed to be allowed this freedom, and although Jae’el wasn’t too pleased with her going against their father’s wishes, he didn’t have the heart to deny his beloved sister her passion. Aa’rel had thrown herself into her studies, surprising everyone with her natural talent, and even the Royal Physician had praised her quick grasp of the healing arts. Within a year, she had learned two years’ worth of knowledge, and although she struggled with Old Tongue, she didn’t allow it to deter her in any way and had learned the difficult language the same time she’d studied medicine, thanks to comprehensive lexicons lent to her by the Great Library at Ahloren’s order.
Although Aa’rel had read about this kind of aggressive swelling after physical trauma, she had never seen it and her mind boggled at the ferocity of the transfer. She imagined that Khaeri must be in terrible pain, but Aa’rel would only know the full extent of her injuries when she woke up.
The jostling, uncomfortable journey over uneven forest ground took most of the day, and by the time the sun had moved over their heads and began sinking towards the horizon, Jae’el finally pulled on the reins to halt the tired, grumpy stallion. He pawed indignantly at the ground and snorted, and Jae’el wasn’t surprised that the thoroughbred, standing at an impressive nineteen hands, wasn’t too pleased about being used as a common draughthorse. The men moved silently through the trees to better see the house from a low hill where the path came out of the forest. The main road wasn’t far from their location, running through an acre of open land with the house standing a few hundred metres to its left. The elegant, two storey structure and its stables sat out in the open and were surrounded by well-tended gardens and lawns. The property had no defences, natural or otherwise, so if the enemy was watching, the family’s plans to gather belongings, food, and horses would be over before it even began.
Aa’rel waited apprehensively in the wagon for the men to return and kept her ears and eyes sharp. When Khaeri moaned softly in her sleep, she spoke words of comfort and stroked her cousin’s face and hair, and hoped she wouldn’t begin the change before they were away again and safely hidden in the caves Khael had spoken about. Minutes later, the men reappeared and told Aa’rel they had seen servants walking about calmly and even heard laughter carried on the wind, suggesting they had no idea about the invasion. This was a great relief to Aa’rel.
Two stable hands saw the royals riding fast towards them and ran out to greet them with welcoming smiles and cheerful hails. But when they saw the condition the family was in, they became deeply concerned. One of the men ran off to tell Jossell that they had arrived unexpectedly while the second helped unhitch Myrllon. Khael gave him orders to saddle horses for each of them and also prepare two packhorses to carry spare belongings and food, and he bowed low before leading Myrllon into the stables where the other horses were housed.
The grey-haired, chubby Head Servant of the royal family’s country estate, along with eight household servants, were waiting outside the main doors in a neat line looking worried and confused by their sudden arrival and rough appearance. As they followed the royals inside, Khael quickly told them what had befallen Malkhyrin and Theras and that their queen was dead. After the expected cries of shock and fear, he told Jossell to tell all the servants to gather their belongings and all the coin that was left in the house strongbox and meet him in the stable yard in half an hour. They bowed and curtsied respectively then hurriedly left to carry out their prince’s orders. The rest of the servants were scattered across the big estate carrying out their duties, so Jossell and the house servants had to be quick. They were all in grave danger and couldn’t afford to dally.
In the spacious reception hall, Khael lay Khaeri down on one of the many comfortable couches whereupon guests and nobles usually waited for an audience with the Cai’ in a less formal setting compared to the palace. After making sure she was still asleep and comfortable, he told his brother and cousins to ransack every room and find travelling clothes to change into and to pack only one change of clothing to keep the horses’ loads light. He would go to his mae’im’s room and look for the strongbox that held the jewels and coin they would most certainly need for wherever they were going. Jae’el reminded them that they had to leave before dark then the group scattered.
While the family searched and gathered, Khaeri came awake. Her head pounded and she felt extremely nauseous. Pushing herself up with weak, trembling arms, she winced when her clothes chaffed her oddly sensitive skin and sweat made her clothes uncomfortably damp. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember what had happened to make her feel this way. The room swam and she quickly shut her eyes and focused on not throwing up. Lifting an unsteady hand, she rubbed her eyes and tried to focus them. Thankfully the room had stopped spinning. A huge oil painting filled the wall in front of her and she realised where she was. But how did she come to be in Ca’fous? Leaning heavily on the couch’s armrest, she managed to stand, and she looked up when she heard footsteps running down the curved icha wood staircase. It was Khael, and he got to her just in time to catch her when her legs gave in.
“Easy, K. Stay seated.” He saw a crystal carafe filled with port on a side table, and putting down the few things he’d managed to gather so far, he poured her a big glass and held it to her lips. “Drink this. It should calm you and give you a bit of energy.”
Khaeri grimaced when the sharp, sweet liquid burned her throat going down. She hated the stuff, having tried it once at her mae’im’s dining table. Pushing the glass away after a couple of sips, she allowed Khael to help her lie back down.
He kissed her forehead. “Stay here. Everyone is gathering things for our journey. The enemy could arrive at any moment, so we must leave soon.”
“Why are we in Ca’fous?”
“No time to explain now. I need to finish up then we’ll come fetch you, yei’?” Waiting for her to nod, he ran back upstairs and then down the passage to his chambers where he’d left a few personal things he wanted to take with him.
Closing her eyes, Khaeri tried to piece things together with her foggy brain. Gradually, her confusion lifted and then everything that had occurred at the palace, starting with her arrival at the stable yard and ending with the forced transfer, resurfaced in rush. Excruciating loss was followed quickly by disbelief at what her mae’im had done to her and Jarath, and then Khael’s anguished features filled her mind and she remembered how he had done nothing to protect her from the brutality of the transfer. He had just watched it happen, unmoving and unmoved. Grief and rage completely overwhelmed her senses, and she began to cry then sob then scream. Jossell and a couple of servants came running into the reception hall, looking frightened and confused, and they were soon joined by her family.
When Khael knelt in front of Khaeri, she pushed him away. “Get away, you bastard! You betrayer!”
In a hoarse, broken voice, Khaeri cursed him, then as weak as she was, she stood up and tried to hit him, but Braahn was quick to step in and hugged her tight against him, creating a barrier between his siblings. When Khaeri realised she couldn’t reach Khael, she pushed Braahn away and fell back onto the couch. Lying on her side with her back to them, she curled into a ball with her arms over her head, and a distraught Aa’rel sat behind her and stroked her hair.
Braahn turned to face his brother. “Why do you look so shocked, b’iera?” he asked heatedly. “Did you really expect things to be the same between you after what you did?”
“N-noi’, of course not,” he stammered. “I . . . I hoped she’d understand—”
“Understand?” Braahn moved towards him menacingly, but Jae’el placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “How in Kurrn’s name is she supposed to understand, Khael? She’s right. You have betrayed her, and you have also betrayed my trust by not telling me what you and mae’im were planning. You deserve everything you get, b’iera,” he spat before stomping off upstairs to finish his gathering.
Khael reacted as though Braahn had physically slapped him and stared after him. Don’t they understand that what mae’ and I did was to save everyone? We gave our Territory and the rest of the galaxy a fighting chance. He looked at Jae’el, hoping to get some kind of understanding and support, but all he saw was a sad, tired, grey gaze before Jae’el also returned upstairs without a word.
Jossell regarded his much-loved prince with wide eyes. In all his years serving the royal family he had never seen such animosity between the siblings. He’d served the family with pride for over fifty years now—having started as a stable boy at thirteen—and he had always been well looked after, just like all the servants and their families, for the Vindor’hiens were generous and kind rulers. It disturbed him greatly to hear of his queen’s sudden death and this frightening invasion that threatened his masters’ lives and that of his own family and friends. Gazing down at the princess, his heart broke seeing her so distressed and his vision grew misty. Everything that he’d heard and seen this day was almost too much for his old heart to deal with, but there was no time right now to mourn the death of his beloved Cai’. Her children needed him, and his duty and pride as Head Servant gave him the strength to do what was required of him, as it always did.
The prince was speaking to Jossell in a soft, strained voice, and he made himself pay attention, for no matter what happened now or how difficult saying farewell was going to be, he’d make sure that his charges had all they needed before they left. The servants were to save none of the precious items from the house, the prince was saying—the paintings and vases, and all the crystal and silver, were to be left behind; it was not as important as their lives. In fifteen minutes, he wanted all the servants in the stables. Jossell and the others bowed then left to make sure the prince’s wishes were carried out. Yes, he’d serve his precious royals bravely to his dying breath.
Aa’rel was done packing all she needed for herself and Khaeri, so she told Khael she’d stay downstairs. Ignoring his cousin’s intense, considering gaze, he went back upstairs to find the strongbox in his mae’im’s room. Entering the luxurious space was more difficult than he’d expected; he saw personal items that broke his heart anew and he bit his bottom lip until he tasted blood. There were also items that had belonged to his fah’af on the writing desk and his bedside table and Khael’s sorrow intensified. Of all his siblings he was the only one old enough to remember his fah’ and the pain of losing him when he was ten. They were orphans now, he suddenly realised. Throwing back the thick woollen rug at the foot of the big bed, he inserted a knife between two planks and lifted one up. They fitted together perfectly to create a seamless hiding place. Removing another two, he saw the strongbox where it was supposed to be, and grunting with effort, he lifted it out then opened the lid. There was plenty of gold coin with his mae’im’s image stamped on one side, and he picked up a coin to gaze at the familiar face. The shock of losing her so suddenly, and then Khaeri’s hurtful accusations, became too much for his wounded spirit to handle and he started shaking and weeping uncontrollably. The burden facing him felt impossible to bear after what he’d been through in the last two days, but it was what he had agreed to carry. He’d given his word to Zefnah and his mae’ that he would protect Khaeri with his very life as her brother and Keeper and make sure she remained hidden until she was strong enough to face her powerful enemies.
