Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3) Page 14

  Malchus laughed. “As if those humans could do anything to her. And Lord Corin already knows what she is, although he thinks she is in service to him.”

  Little did that man know. Were they just as foolish? “Then why the silence?”

  “Perhaps her messenger was killed.” Malchus did not look convinced as he took another drink of his wine.

  “Or maybe she is no longer on our side.”

  Malchus didn’t answer.

  That did not reassure him. Every other time he had brought the idea up, Malchus had dismissed it immediately. “So how does this change our plans? We cannot take on the Temanin Empire. That was Velyni’s job: to keep Corin Tala under control. And use him to gain access to the Ryland Plains.”

  Malchus took a drink before answering. “It doesn’t. Until we know more, we continue on as we have. We have Thyra. We almost have Kerre.” He swirled the wine and watched it. “Besides, Temanin would be foolish to march an army across the Great Desert. And they do not have the knowledge or resources to sail here.”

  “What about Hont? With the province of Hont now under Temanin’s control, they could sail.”

  Malchus waved his hand. “The Hont navy was never anything to boast about. Not like Avonai. Or the Lands beyond. And Velyni would tell us if Corin was planning such an attack.”

  “If she could.” Valin drained the rest of his cup and placed the goblet down. “It seems our main priority now should be to contact Velyni. Find out what is going on in Temanin.”

  Malchus didn’t answer. Instead he stared at his cup. “Why do you keep her?”

  Valin blinked, his mind struggling to change thoughts. “Her?”

  “The Eldaran.”

  He went still. “How long do you think we will survive with just two of us?”

  “I think we are surviving just fine.”

  “But only for so long. We need new blood, Malchus.”

  “And what makes you think she will join us?” Malchus gave him a hard look. “She doesn’t know what we really are.”

  “I’ve been talking to her, slowly. Tomorrow I will introduce her to one of our prisoners.”

  “And how do you think she’ll take it?”

  Valin shrugged. “Badly at first. But she can’t escape that first taste.”

  “No.” Malchus swirled his cup again and smiled. “She can’t. Not even Anwar, with all his power, could turn away once he realized what he could do.”

  Valin tensed.

  Malchus saw and his smile widened. “Pity Anwar died. He, too, could have been an asset.”

  “Never!” It didn’t matter that Anwar was dead. He took Mercia away. And the evidence of their love now lived in Regessus’ house.

  “You never gave him a chance.”

  “Mercia would have turned him away.”

  “Maybe.” Malchus studied his fingernails. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re dead. Perhaps we should not have been so hasty to kill them all. There is no one left now. Except that Eldaran. What is her name?”

  “Rowen.”

  “Ah, yes. Rowen. Well—” Malchus stood. “It will be interesting to see how she reacts tomorrow when you test her on a prisoner. I would like to be there to watch.”

  Valin stared at his empty goblet. “Of course.”

  “Speaking of prisoners, I am in need of one this evening.”

  “How much longer do you think you can control the veil?”

  Malchus shrugged, but his eyes grew hollow. “The shadows on the other side are pushing back.”

  Valin almost asked what the unseen world was like, but clamped his mouth shut. No. The look Malchus wore every time he spoke of the veil was enough. They each did their part, and never spoke of what the other did. Malchus controlled the shadows and he twisted minds. If it weren’t for the prisoners to replenish their strength, they would have given out a long time ago.

  He glanced down at his hand. It was starting to shrivel again, a sign of his own waning strength. Perhaps he would join Malchus this evening. They would need more prisoners soon. Only a handful remained.

  Malchus left without saying another word.

  Valin tapped his chin. They should bolster their efforts in finding more refugees. Perhaps even search the outer edges of the desert to fill Cragsmoor again.

  And then there was Rowen. If she could be turned, they would be that much more powerful. But if not . . . Valin dropped his hand. Well, she could be used in a different way.

  Chapter

  16

  Caleb stood in the entrance to Balthazar’s tent, Lore beside him.

  The tent was spacious; double the size of any other one here. It consisted of a main room and two side rooms. Bright red rugs were laid across the sand, their patterns colorful and intricate. Large striped cushions sat around the tent with low tables set in between. Incense wafted up from a clay jar, filling the tent with a heady smell. Lamps hung from the middle posts, lighting the tent.

  Balthazar emerged from one of the side rooms.

  Once again he was struck by the size of the chieftain. Most of the desert people were small and thin. Balthazar, in contrast, was a head taller than anyone else, with a wide girth and broad shoulders. He looked more like one of the councilmen from Azar than a leader of the desert people.

  Balthazar spotted Caleb and smiled, his teeth white against his dark skin. “Thank you for coming, Caleb Tala. And Lore of the White City. Please, both of you, take a seat.”

  Caleb chose a cushion near the back. Lore took one near the tent’s entrance. Balthazar sat on one across from both of them.

  Once seated, Balthazar clapped. A young man appeared in the doorway. “Saif, please bring some hot black and food for my guests.”

  Saif bowed. “Yes, my lord.” He turned and left.

  “Now, Caleb. Let us talk. I want to hear what has brought you and your companions to the Great Desert.”

  Caleb glanced at Lore. How much should he share? How much of it was his to share? “I am looking for information. Nierne, the woman who is traveling with us, is a scribe from the Monastery of Thyra.”

  “Really? A woman scribe. Interesting.” Balthazar sat back. “How did she escape Thyra? How did you meet her? And what about Captain Lore here?” His gaze switched to Lore. “You travel with interesting people, Caleb.”

  Caleb studied Balthazar. Could he trust the chieftain? And—he rapped his fingers along the low table— was it possible Balthazar might know something about his mother? After all, she lived with him and his people for a couple years. Did he know that she had not always been human? How to get that information . . .”I met Nierne up north, near the White City.”

  “The White City? I heard Temanin was waging war with the north. Were you a part of that?”

  “Yes.” His fingers stopped. “My cousin, Lord Corin, sent me north to help with more . . . delicate matters.”

  Balthazar laughed out loud. “You may speak plainly here. There are no Temanin politics in the desert. You were sent to make sure Corin’s wishes were fulfilled, weren’t you?

  His lips curled into a small smile. “Yes, I was sent to make sure the latest Temanin commander didn’t lose his nerve like the others did.”

  “And did the empire succeed in its endeavor? Did it take the north? The smile slid from Balthazar’s face.

  There was no love lost between the desert people and Temanin. Temanin would have conquered the desert long ago if it had had any strategic or commodity value. Balthazar and the other tribes knew that, and resented it. “No, Temanin did not.”

  Balthazar brightened again. “Never underestimate a people’s desire for freedom. So, tell me, how did you meet that beautiful young scribe and escape the war unscathed?”

  “Unscathed would not be accurate.” Caleb sat back and placed his hands around his knee. “What can you tell me about my mother
?”

  Balthazar tilted his head. “Your mother? You mean Selene? Why?”

  Before Caleb could say something, Saif entered the tent with a silver platter topped with three tiny ceramic cups filled with a dark, steamy liquid, and a plate of plump dates. The young man placed the platter on the table near Balthazar, bowed, and left the tent.

  “Here.” Balthazar held out one of tiny cups to Caleb.

  He took the cup.

  Balthazar held another cup out to Lore, who took it with a firm nod.

  Caleb blew on the steam, and took a small sip. The liquid filled his mouth with its dark and bitter taste. It had been a while since he’d had the hot black drink, common both here and in Temanin. Usually he preferred wine. “What can you tell me about my mother? Was there anything . . . unusual about her when you first found her?”

  “Beside the fact that she had no memory of her past?”

  Caleb nodded and took a date.

  “I believe you already know the answer.”

  He finished chewing and swallowed. “But I want to hear it from you. You tell me first, then I will share what I know.”

  Balthazar sat back and glanced at both men. “What about Captain Lore?”

  “He can stay. In fact, he’s probably as curious as I am.”

  Balthazar took a sip from his cup. “I found Selene near the Kerre and Great Desert border. She was dehydrated, starving, and out of her mind. I was a new leader at the time. Some of my people advised against taking the young woman in. But hospitality was something my father had taught me, and I could not let the young woman die in the desert. So I took her in. As my healer cared for her, it became apparent the woman had been through a traumatic event, one that had . . . changed her.”

  So Balthazar knew. “Selene wasn’t an ordinary woman, was she?”

  “No.” Balthazar looked at Caleb. “She spoke of her people, a people with powers I had never heard of: the power to heal, to bind, to even twist a man’s mind. She didn’t want a part of it anymore.”

  “Do you know why?”

  He shifted on his cushion. “Not really. During her deliriums she talked about her burden, and trouble brewing amongst her people. And her desire to live a normal life.”

  “Did she have any strange marks on her body?”

  Balthazar shook his head. “Not that my healer found. After a couple days, and with care and nourishment, Selene recovered. She never spoke of those things again. In fact, when I questioned her later, she didn’t seem to remember anything. Like her memories had been erased.”

  “Are you sure that what she said during her deliriums was true?”

  “No, I’m not. It could very well be she really was out of her mind. But I couldn’t shake her words from my head. Still can’t, even after all these years.”

  Caleb took a small sip from his cup. “Did my father know? Did you ever tell him?”

  “No, I never said anything. I figured whatever happened in her past, it was done now. Selene was a new woman, with a new history. I saw no reason to share her past. Until now.” He narrowed his gaze. “But you already knew all this. I can tell by your eyes. So why the questions?”

  “Because I wanted to know what you knew.” Caleb placed his cup down on the table. “I wanted to know if she ever remembered who she was. And why she never shared with me.”

  Balthazar folded his hands. “Perhaps because she never remembered again. Or what she said during the height of her fever wasn’t really true.”

  “Oh, it was true.” Caleb pressed a finger against the table. “You asked why I am heading to Thyra. I am heading there to find out who I am, what I am. Meeting you was unexpected. I had hoped you would have some answers.”

  “I don’t understand . . .”

  Caleb slowly lifted his hand.

  Balthazar’s eyes widened and he leaned back. “What is that?”

  Caleb sighed and turned his hand around. The mark was a dull white and spread across his palm. It looked ordinary enough, like a scar or a birthmark, except for the soft glow around it, which was hard to miss in the shadows of the tent. “It is the Mark of the Word. A symbol of who I am, of who my mother once was—an Eldaran.”

  “But no such mark was ever found on Selene.”

  “No, I suppose not.” Caleb lowered his hand. “She gave up her power, her responsibility. And the Word granted her wish. I had hoped you might know why.”

  “I have no idea. This Word, I have never heard of him before. Or these Eldarans. Are they the people Selene talked about? People with . . . power?”

  “Yes. And I am one of them.”

  Balthazar licked his lips “And what power do you possess, Caleb Tala?”

  “Nothing you need to fear.”

  “Can you heal? Or twist minds?”

  “No. Nothing like that.” Caleb looked at his palm again, remembering the sword that came from his mark. “There is more to our world than we realize, beings who walk among us who are not human.”

  “Like you?”

  “Yes. And no. There are shadow-wraiths that cannot be killed with physical weapons.”

  “You mean those creatures in Kerre? We have not seen them, but we’ve heard of such sorcery. Shadows that kill the soul.” Balthazar pointed at him. “Can you kill them?”

  “No, I can’t kill them. I don’t know if anything can kill them. But I can banish them.”

  “How?”

  Caleb held his hand up again. “With this mark.”

  “You’ve done it before?”

  “Yes.”

  The tent grew quiet. Voices of people echoed outside and the bleat of goats could be heard nearby. Balthazar studied him, then picked up his cup and took a long drink.

  Should he have shared? He hadn’t really learned much from Balthazar. But how long could he have really kept his secret from him? Balthazar would have wondered at his questions about his mother.

  Balthazar placed the cup down and meshed his fingers together. “So you are heading to Thyra to banish these shadow monsters.”

  Caleb paused. He hadn’t really thought about that. His focus had been on finding information about who he was. But that’s what Nierne was hoping, wasn’t it? An Eldaran who could banish the shadows.

  Lore leaned forward. “Just how many of these shadow-wraiths are there in Kerre?”

  Caleb had forgotten Lore was there.

  Balthazar turned his attention to Lore. “No one really knows. A handful of refugees fleeing Kerre spoke of entire villages wiped out by shadows. How many shadows would it take to do that?” He glanced at Caleb.

  Caleb shrugged. Considering how powerful Velyni had been, perhaps only one. Then again, she hadn’t seemed intent on wiping out Azar, only on influencing his cousin Corin and inciting a war in the north. That was devastating enough.

  “So do your companions know what you are?”

  “Obviously Lore does.” Caleb nodded toward Lore. “And so does Nierne.”

  “And what do you think, Lore Palancar?”

  “About what?”

  What did they think? Was that Nierne’s motivation for bringing him to Thyra? It made sense. But could he do that? Could his power work against all those shadow-wraiths?

  “About Caleb?”

  Lore sat back, his face impassive. “So far, I haven’t seen anything that would make me fear his abilities.”

  That didn’t mean Lore didn’t fear him.

  “However, Caleb is not the only Eldaran. I travel to Thyra in search of another, an Eldaran who has been taken prisoner.”

  “There are more of you?” Balthazar looked from Lore to Caleb.

  “Only one other that I know of.” Could there be more? Hidden away, like he was?

  “Can she do what you do? Can she banish these shadows?”

  “I don’t believe so. S
he is called a Truthsayer. She has the ability to see inside people.” Caleb shifted. He still remembered the piercing light and watching his life play out in front of her, and her disgust.

  Lore straightened up. “I know a bit more about the Eldarans. They each were given a special power to help mankind. Rowen, the woman I seek, can see inside people. And Caleb can banish shadows, beings who do not belong in our world. They each have their own gift, and neither can fill the other’s place.”

  “Interesting.” Balthazar sat back. “Why are you seeking this other Eldaran?”

  “We were to be bonded, before she was taken from me.”

  “Oh. I am sorry to hear that. Then I hope you find her.” Balthazar glanced at Caleb. “And what is the relationship between you and this woman scribe? Are you also to be bonded? I thought scribes did not bond.”

  Caleb stiffened. “They don’t. But she has not taken her vows. Not yet.”

  “And you hope she doesn’t?”

  His jaw tightened. “Right now, I just want to find out who I am.”

  Balthazar nodded and stood. “I can understand that. And I am sorry I was not able to tell you more about your mother. Selene was a strong woman. I see a bit of her in you. I wish you favor in your travels to Kerre. We are having our Feast of the Waters tonight. You and your companions are invited to come.”

  Caleb stood and bowed. “Thank you, Balthazar. Your hospitality is most generous.”

  “Of course. Anything for the son of Selene.”

  Chapter

  17

  The flames slowly faded, morphing into darkness. The heat inside died with them. And the voices, and the red eyes . . . they disappeared as well.