The Coming of Power (Chapter 11-Jan 7)

[xX_Flame_Kissed_Xx]

Chapter 6: Betrayal and Truth

Alva lay half asleep, roused by hushed voices close to the door. One was deep and rich as it said, “So it is agreed. Tomorrow, my men and I come and take this girl away as soon as you are out of sight of the village. By your description, she will be a marvelous figure for slave labor. Raised on a farm you say?” “Yes, and she thinks I’m going to marry her. Her father was practically giving her away as he talked about his daughter ‘just at the proper marrying age.’” She recognized this last voice as Elltren but the other one she did not know. Elltren continued, “Though if I did marry, I would want the dame to be as pretty as this one. She is nice on the eyes.” The other man laughed and she heard his steps move down the hall. Elltren opened the door and looked at her as she shifted and quickly drifted back to sleep. If Alva had been more awake, she would have noticed the troubled expression and guilty eyes on his face, but she was blissfully oblivious.

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In the morning she dismissed what she had heard as part of a bad dream expressing her worries. Alva sat up and looked around the room. Elltren was awake in the chair eating out of one of two identical steaming plates on the table. “Good morning Alva, did you sleep well?” A thought then hit Alva, and she felt a slight flush sneak over her cheeks. “Uh, yes, but where did…” Her voice trailed off not exactly sure how to ask the question that had formed, so she pointedly looked at the bed then back at Elltren and raised her eyebrows. He laughed and said, “No worries Alva. I found the floor to be just as comfortable as any cot would have been. Why don’t you have some of this delightful food the maid just brought in? It is not the house special, but it is still as divine as ever to a hungry stomach.” His smile was hypnotizing, so she got up and went to the chair opposite him. She ate in silence, savoring the fresh bread and a ripe apple from the plate in front of her.

“Alva, if you will pardon my asking, why don’t you smile?” This caught her off guard, halfway into a bite of the apple. She chewed hastily and said, “I’m truly sorry if I have been rude to you. It’s just, since my mom left…” Her voice trailed off and she turned away. It had been a long time since she had cried about her mom, and now she had to do so in front of Elltren. Alva felt ashamed. Elltren’s deep voice was quite as he said, “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” Alva looked at him and his face was truly distressed. She said, “No worries, Elltren. I won’t break on you that easily.” A smile crept onto her face as she continued, “You will have to try a little harder than that.” What was that gleam in his eyes? Was it love? Or was it something else? The sinking of Alva’s stomach seemed to favor the later.

So they finished their meal and got their belongings together in a cheerful silence thinking their own thoughts. Alva climbed into the saddle on the black-brown mare, she now knew to be called Meriyl, and Elltren got on the back of his own tan stallion. After Elltren paid Claudia, they were off.

The riding conditions were perfect. Birds were singing their sweet songs in a completely clear sky as a cool breeze reminded everyone of the approaching winter. The only thing that was spoiling Alva’s time was her thoughts. Elltren was getting more and more tense and emotions flashed on his face. Mainly it switched from an ashamed guilt to a stern determination, but every now and then he just looked confused. Eventually, Alva could not stand it anymore. “Elltren, is something wrong?” He looked at her and the guilt in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. “Alva, I’m sorry.” She turned and looked at him questioningly, trying to ignore how her heart skipped a beat, and he continued. “I have betrayed you. I did not know any other way to get a person fast enough. I had to give someone to the traders.” Alva could not believe it. Her dream was no dream at all, it was real, all too real. He was going to turn her over to the slave traders. Tears flowed from her wide eyes. “Why? I did nothing! I left my home at my father’s whim to marry a stranger, and I voiced no complaint to you or him. I was kind and proper as I could be, trying to please the man I was to spend the rest of my life with. But there never was a marriage, was there? You were going to sell me to the slave traders, for what, a few coins, or maybe my labors might be worth a horse or a meal of ham?” She was confused and hurt, oh so hurt, but she desperately did not want to be, and so she turned these feelings to a sharp, hard knife of anger. Elltren lowered his eyes, ashamed, but answered, “It was either I find someone or it was me…” He trailed off. “You are slime! How could you!” Alva turned Meriyl away and urged her into a gallop down the road.

The mare tried hard, but she was no match for Elltren’s horse who was bred for speed. He caught up with her almost immediately. She quickly reached into her bag and pulled out the dagger that was from Torap. Holding it in her right hand ready to throw if she needed to, she faced Elltren. His hands were raised submissively and his eyebrows high. “I understand your anger Alva. It was wrong, I know, but I was thinking, and, if you will listen, I have a plan.” Alva lowered her dagger and replaced it into her bag. Elltren put his hands down and explained his plan to a still furious Alva.

After a long talk with their horses leisurely walking, Alva agreed to the plan. It sounded like it would work, and she did not want to condemn Elltren to slavery anymore than she wanted to be condemned to that awful fate. So they went on down the road and started to mold their plan into tentative action.

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It was getting closer to dark and the village had long passed away beyond the horizon. Alva felt as if the world were closing in, she could not see more than a quarter mile in any direction and sounds of the night were almost unbearable to her heightened senses. Only thoughts about what would happen to her and Elltren if they were to fail kept her to the plan. Then she heard it. A slight sound of soft hoof falls on the dirt road came from the north, and the south, the directions of the nearest villages. “We should stop here for the night Alva, it is getting dark.” That was her cue and Alva replied barely keeping her voice normal, “Can’t we go just a little further? There is no water here, and my water skin need refilled. Surely there will be a stream not far ahead.” She hoped the edge on her voice could be mistaken for whining. Eltren pretended to consider this, and shrugged, “Very well.” The hoof beats were gaining. It was only a matter of moments.

The traders were in sight, so now for the risky part. “Elltren! My horse!” She pressed her heels into Meriyl’s sides and they were off at a wild gallop as Meriyl supposedly “bolted.” Yells erupted behind her as the slave traders made pursuit. Alva hazarded a glance back, and was satisfied with seeing the traders leave Elltren on his own but his face was contorted in worry. They had agreed that she should go west, to the capital, Marion. It would be easy for the traders to loose her in the forest that was between her and the capital. Alva turned her attention back to guiding Meriyl to the west. She hoped that the traders would give up soon so she could rest Meriyl.

Unfortunately, the traders were determined, and rode on. Meriyl was a sturdy mare but she was no match for the slave trader’s horses who were trained in endurance. Soon, they were close enough that Alva could hear their angry cries and the snorts of their horses. Swearing fluently, she looked at her only weapon. It was a dagger that now seemed tiny compared to the battleaxes and sabers that the slave traders had raised in the excitement of the pursuit, but it was her only hope. She could get one if she threw it, but she was hesitant. It was all she had left of her brother. An arrow shot past her ear, dangerously close. The time for hesitation was over. She kissed the hilt and quickly stopped and turned Meriyl around. She chose a random target, a man in the front with frizzy red hair.

The dagger hit, but it glanced off a rib instead of piercing the heart. Even though it was a miss and did not mortally wound the man, he slumped in his saddle and fell to the ground. The others were on her in seconds. A big man with a brown and gray braded beard harshly pulled her from the saddle and another man with a shining baldhead bound her hands. The man with the longest beard bent down in his saddle and looked at Alva’s. “Now little lady, you have tired our horses and wounded young Scomban. If I were you I would beg for mercy.” Alva met his gaze defiantly and spit in his eye. A rough, callused hand hit her sharply on the side of her face. “You should show a little more respect to a man with a blade such as mine.” With the side of her face stinging viciously, Alva glared at the man who held a battleaxe in his left hand. Just as he got close enough, she kicked him square in the chest. “I would rather die.” Having stumbled back after the kick, beard-man came forward and laid his blade on the side of her neck. “That could be arranged.”

Another man who had appeared behind Alva while she was speaking picked her up as if she weighed no more than a twig and carried her to a horse. Placing her in the saddle, he levered up behind her and retied her hands to the saddle. It was impossible for her to get down, his strong arms plus the tight bindings on her wrists was as effective as any cage, so she turned her mind to more practical worries. “Where is Meriyl? Where is my horse?” Alva had no way of knowing what these harsh men would do with her gentle mare. “Your horse?” The man’s voice was deep as thunder. “She will be sold at the market.” So, Alva thought, she was to be sold next to her mare. “Where is this slave market you intend to take me and my horse too?” She felt the man’s chest behind her shake is silent laughs. Finally he said, “Well, little lady, I suppose you will see, won’t you?” No. Alva thought with fierce determination. She had no intension of spending the rest of her life as a slave. Somehow, she would escape. She had to. For a long time after, Alva contemplated ways of escape.

The horse under her came to a halt, abruptly bringing Alva to her surroundings. The light of the sun was completely gone, so the moons made the light forest around her thick with shadows. The other men were making camp, and she soon saw where she would presumably spend the night. Alva was removed from the saddle of the horse and had her legs bound. Her leg and wrist bindings were then secured to a pole. No escape there, the pole was of a thick stiff wood staff driven deep into the ground by one of those powerful axes.

While they set up camp, Alva was able to grasp some names. The man with the braided beard, the leader, was Irolmer, the man who had carried her on his horse was Urkmal, and the man with the dagger wound was Scomban. Shortly after the camp was settled and a fire was going Urkmal brought Alva her dinner; a piece of bread that would have hardly fed a mouse. Once the bread was in her mouth, she promptly spit it at Urkmal missing his face, but getting his shirt. He looked at her for a while then shrugged and whipped it off. Urkmal rejoined the men who were drinking heavily from a brew so strong, she could smell even as far away as she was.

A strong hand covered her mouth. As she started to struggle a familiar voice whispered into her ear, barely audible, “Keep still and do not make a sound if you want to be free.” That halted Alva in her tracks. Who was it? She recognized the voice but was to distracted by the cold blade slowly cutting her bonds for it to properly register. “Meriyl… My horse. I can’t leave her and my pack is still on her saddle.” Alva whispered. She could not leave her poor kind mare behind; she was likely to be sold for hard farm labor, not to a person who would care for her. “Which one?” the person breathed in her ear. “The black-brown mare towards the end of the line.” She reached back for comfort and a hand squeezed hers quickly. “As soon as you see her disappear slowly go for the cover of the trees I will meet you there. Be as quiet as you can.” He disappeared without a sound, the only sign of his passage was a single leaf twisting and turning in the air where it had risen when disturbed by his foot.

Alva stared intently at her horse, and then thought better of it. Even a drunken man would think it odd that a prisoner looked excited and hopeful. Making her face a careful mask of sorrow and despair, she looked at her horse in sideways glances. A hooded figure was coaxing Meriyl into the woods. As soon as they were in the woods, Alva looked at the traders. They were all asleep, most snoring loudly, except for Urkmal. She almost cursed aloud; she would have to be completely silent to fool the guard. Slowly, Alva stood her legs were stiff and wrists sore. Moving carefully, avoiding anything on the ground that would crunch or that might trip her, Alva started to walk away. One of the men behind her rolled over and let out a loud snore that nearly startled Alva out of her skin. She stepped forward two rapid steps and tripped on a root.

After landing with a crash, Alva looked quickly at Urkmal. He was still facing out scanning the trees as if nothing had just happened. Was he letting her escape? But there was no time to think about that now. Getting up, she moved quickly and quietly into the trees. As soon as the darkness covered her, she was lifted into the front of a saddle. Stifling any sound of surprise she leaned forward on her horse and whispered into her ear, “Meriyl, take us swiftly, I beg you.” As you wish. Alva did not have time to think about Meriyl answering her, for the mare dashed off at top speed and she had to concentrate at staying on.  

[xX_Flame_Kissed_Xx]

Chapter 7: Horse Talk

When Rhaza finally pulled the horse to a stop, they were still surrounded by trees but they were farther towards the center of the forest and Alva had long been asleep. Rhaza carefully got down from the saddle and he helped her down as well. Alva woke up and looked around confused. Rhaza took her arm and said, “Don’t worry, you are safe now.” Alva pulled free of his grip and backed up her gaze wary and untrusting. “Who are you?” Her voice was steady and confident but the fear in her eyes ripped at his heart. He realized he was still wearing his hood low, shading his face, and he pulled it back so Alva could see his face. “Rhaza! How…” She said haltingly, and then leapt at him and buried her face in his shirt, shaking. Stroking her hair, he said calmingly, “Hush Alva, it is over now. It will be alright.”

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It was nice to be with someone she knew and trusted. She had not let herself get upset while with the traders, so she had buried her fear, forcing herself to live in the moment for however many moments she had, but it all came out as the fear bubbled out off it’s cage and she shook in his arms. Alva turned away and clutched her sides. But she did not know why she did or if it was even safe to trust him. She had trusted her dad and he had given her away to a stranger. It all just happened so fast. Rhaza showed up wounded, and she had healed him. She was going to be married, and so she left her home. She met Elltren, and then found out he had betrayed her. Elltren had tried to help her escape, but she had been caught anyways. Rhaza had somehow showed up and rescued her. It was all happening so fast, it seamed like a dream rather than the truth.

A strong hand grabbed her arm, and she turned looking into his calm, caring ebony eyes. “Let’s eat. I’m hungry, how about you?” As if in answer, her stomach made a loud growling protest to its lack of nourishment. Rhaza smiled, and turned to his pack. “No heated food now I’m afraid, the smoke may be seen on a night as clear as this.” Alva sat and gratefully accepted the food, soft bread and some dried fruit. “Rhaza?” He raised his eyebrows, his mouth full of bread. “How are you here?” Rhaza’s face went thoughtful. “Not that I am not grateful,” Alva added hastily “but, when I left, your leg was still on the mend…” Her voice trailed off and she took a bite of the bread. Rhaza finished his mouthful slowly, as if he were formulating his reply. “A day or so after you left, I started to speed the healing process.” Rhaza had spoken carefully, as if he were trying not to say something. “Wait a second.” She looked at him with dismay; there was only one thing she knew of that could have been done that she had not already. “You have magic!” Rhaza winced, and nodded. “Indeed, I do.” “Why did you not use it before? Why not just heal yourself as soon as you woke?”

Rhaza looked at her. Alva felt sore with her face still swollen from where she had been hit, and her mind was clouded with fatigue. “When you took me in, I was too weak. I had been traveling for a long time and had used up much of my magic. If I had tried to heal myself, I would have killed myself.” Rhaza put the last small piece of dried fruit in his mouth. “We should post watches.” Alva quickly replied, “I will take the first watch.” Rhaza nodded and pointed to where the moon would be when it was time for his watch. When the moon reached that point after a completely uneventful watch, Alva woke up the sleeping Rhaza. After rolling into her worn traveling cloak, she was soon asleep, only to have a strange dream.


She was sitting on the edge of a cliff, looking out on a forest. Through some gaps in the trees, Alva could see a merry stream flowing smoothly through the forest. “Daughter, we lack the luxury of time.” Alva whirled around and almost fell off the edge of the cliff. “Daughter, careful, any harm that befalls you here, you will feel when you wake.” There was a lady standing behind Alva with a hand firmly on her shoulder. Her hair was wavy auburn that was like Alva’s but her eyes were a bright green. “Wh-who are you?” The lady removed her hand and stood tall. “I am Liliwa, your mother.” Alva almost fell off the cliff again, but her mother’s strong hand held her steady again. “Alva, dear, we don’t have time for this. I have to go soon and I must tell you something important.” Alva could not speak so she just nodded. “The man you are with, trust him. Go with him to the capital, but remember…”


Alva woke up breathing fast. It was just before dawn and Rhaza was eating. When he saw that she was awake, the corners of his mouth turned up and he gestured to the food that was warming on a flat rock near the fire. She ate slowly, still thinking about her dream. “I’m heading to the capital on…business.” Rhaza started when he had finished his meal. “If you would like, you can come with me, I have some friends who I am sure would love take you in.” Alva looked at his face. His expression was careful, calculated only to show polite questioning. She wanted to go with Rhaza but how much did she really know about him? There was no way for her to tell if he meant her harm, he never had before given her any reason not to trust him but that didn’t mean he was to be trusted. Then her mother’s words rose in her mind. The man you are with, trust him. Go with him to the capital.

“That would be wonderful Rhaza.” He smiled showing ivory teeth and the relief was evident on his face. “Then we should get moving if we want to reach the capital before sun down.” He stood up strait, and for the first time Alva realized how tall he was. She had never seen him stand with out the splint on his leg. Rhaza whistled out into the trees and then just stood there. After a moment, Alva heard leaves crunching in the forest and a magnificent black stallion appeared. In the early morning light, his coat had an almost blue sheen and his mane and tail were darker than the shadows around him. She looked at Rhaza, her eyes huge. He smiled and nodded to Alva’s unasked question. She slowly got to her feet and went to pet the beautiful beast. He had no saddle but she thought it was better that way, because it did not seem right that such a majestic creature should have to endure any restraints. The stallion tossed his head and looked at her with a rebellious look in his eye. I would like to see someone try to put them on me. Alva squealed and stumbled back tripping over a rock. “I don’t see what is funny. I’m either going mad or that horse just talked to me!” Rhaza’s eyes were streaming while he leaned on a tree laughing.

When he had recovered, Rhaza said to Alva, “Whatever you think when you are touching an Animal Lord, they will hear.” He thinks he is so smart, but I can talk to you without contact as well. She started when she heard the horses voice in her mind, but then Alva started to giggle and the stallion neighed and stamped a hoof as if laughing himself. Rhaza frowned, unable to understand what had been said but knowing he had been the butt of a joke, but then he shrugged it off and faced the stallion. “Lord Honan.” Rhaza bowed low then stood tall again as he said. “Will you take me to the capital as fast as my companion’s horse will travel?” Yes. Rhaza nodded and reloaded his pack after handing Alva hers. Hurry up or I will leave with out you. Meriyl looked up. If you don’t be quiet Honan, I might just leave you behind. Rhaza and Alva laughed as they climbed on to their horses, Rhaza bareback on a Horse Lord and Alva in a worn saddle on a black brown spirited mare. With Rhaza in the lead, they rode of through the woods in happy company.  

[xX_Flame_Kissed_Xx]

Chapter 8: The Capital

They traveled swiftly the entire next day through thinning and eventually ending trees. The following morning, they could see the capital. From what Alva could see, it seemed to be made out of golden-tan sand but she could not understand how the sand stayed in the shape of a building. When she asked Rhaza, he said that it was not sand, but stone the color of sand called “hept” by the locals. Alva tried not to think about how bad she must look. When Rhaza caught her messing with her braid and trying to pat the dirt out of her tunic and breeches, he smiled and said, “Alva, you look like find, just a little road weary. Anymore and it would be…conspicuous, attracting unwanted attention.” He faced the capital, now less than an hour ride ahead, and straitened his back. “What is more important is that you look strong and confident to those around you. If you do, no one will bother with you.”

When they reached the capital, Rhaza had to take her reins because Alva and Meriyl both kept getting distracted. This was by far the most people she had seen in one place her entire life. Just the people she saw in the streets was more than all of the occupants of her village increased ten fold. Along both sides of the street, she saw stalls bearing cloth in impossibly bright colors, racks and racks of dried and fresh herbs, and everything else imaginable. By the time Rhaza stopped their horses, Alva’s neck ached from constantly looking at the sides of the street.

In front of Alva stood a hept building that rose three levels high and had four glass windows on each level. In Horlu, the tallest building was the inn at two levels and only the church could afford glass for its windows. Rhaza dismounted and motioned for Alva to do the same. Leaving Honan next to Alva and Meriyl, he went up to the door and knocked. A man with shoulder length white flecked red hair and brilliant green eyes opened the door. “Rhaza! Is it really you?” Rhaza laughed as they embraced. “It was last time I checked Whylam.” Letting go and stepping back from the embrace, Whylam looked critically at Rhaza. “But you were supposed to be here over a week ago.” “I was…held up.” Rhaza said in a way that forbid any more questions. “Whylam of Marion, meet Alvamaria of Horlu.” He stepped aside and motioned Alva forward with one hand. Grabbing her small pack of belongings, she obeyed. Whylam raised an eyebrow at Rhaza, but then he smiled at Alva. “How nice to meet such a lovely lady.” Alva blushed and tried to smile back, but she was nervous and it must have showed. He stepped to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, much the way her brother used too. “I see you are tired, and I’m sure Rhaza will be a gentleman and take the horses to the stable while you freshen up.” Rhaza got a wide grin and bowed to them both before leading the horses behind the building. As she walked away, Alva bid Meriyl farewell and she could have sworn that she heard Honan’s mind voice mutter something unpleasant about the incompetence of stable hands.

Once they were in the hept building, Alva saw a young woman probably only a year older than herself in a green dress. As soon as the girl saw Alva, she smiled. “Papa never said there would be someone my age here this time.” Whylam stopped a middle-aged lady carrying white sheets that had just passed them and was holding a quiet conversation with her. When he had finished, she bussled away and he turned to the girl in green saying, “Millie, this miss is tired and would probably like to go to a room, right?” Alva nodded not knowing how to reply. “The Forest Room, I think Millie.” Millie started to guide her down the hall, talking the entire time. “My name is Mildred, but everyone calls me Millie. What is your name?” “Alvamaria, but just Alva please.” “Oh but why? Alvamaria!” They went up a staircase. “That is such a wonderful name, so much better than Mildred. I don’t know what my mother was thinking, Goddess bless her. She passed on three years earlier.” “Oh, I’m so, sorry.” “No matter. She had been dreadfully ill for the longest time. I think it was rather a welcomed retreat for her.”

They went through one more door, and Millie placed Alva on a bed saying she would be right back. Almost immediately after, the lady from the hall came in with at tub and towel, followed promptly by a trail of small children behind her who filled the tub with six pitchers of warm water. Alva thanked the lady who smiled and introduced herself as Aremela, the head maid of the place, before leaving. It was a simple yet comfortable room furnished with a single bed, a chest at the foot of the bed, a table, and four chairs all in the same polished pinewood. Clean white sheets were on a feather mattress with a soft feather pillow. There was a long mirror on the wall by the door and a single window above the table that looked out across the land where she and Rhaza had come across. Alva put her pack on the bed and went to the window. It was a fair day with clear blue skies, and only the chill in the breeze betrayed the coming cold. She looked out past the city, and a streaming speck of white in the distance drew her eyes. There was a person in a billowing white cloak on an equally white horse riding towards the city. It was impossible to tell if it was a man or woman, but she could just see pale blond hair on top of the down hood of the cloak.

“Isn’t it a wonderful view out that way? The sunrises I have seen through that window can take your breath away.” Alva turned away from the window and mystery person to Millie. She was carrying what was obviously a stack of cloths. “Here is a dress that I think will fit you nicely.” She put it on the bed. “When you are done you can go down to the parlor, which is just down the stairs and the first door to your right. Or, if you would like, you could stay in here and rest, it really does not matter.” Alva smiled; it was impossible to be uncomfortable around Millie, she was so open and trusting that it was infectious. “Thanks Millie.” Millie smiled and left, closing the door behind. Alva turned back to the window. She just caught a glimpse of the white-cloaked person and the horse as they went into the city, but could tell nothing other than this person was a man, and so decided to enjoy her relaxation.

The water in the tub was warm, but not too hot, and Alva could feel the grime and smell of the road leaving her skin at the touch of the sweet-smelling soap. When she had finished and rinsed the bubbles off, she dried herself with the towel that felt as soft as the clouds. She picked up the dress and put it on. It was a calm, pale pink that fit tight over her torso and her arms to her elbows but, down from her elbows and waist, it flowed in waves. Alva fingered her hair until it hung down mostly in order and slipped her feet into white slippers she found beside the bed. She looked at herself in the mirror. She had small fading bruises around her wrists from the ropes the slave traders had used and she had a faded black eye from the slap, but other wise looked much the same as she had before she left the farm. Alva walked out the door and to the stairs before she had too long to think about the farm and her family.

When she got the parlor, the door was already open and she stepped slowly inside. There were six well-cushioned chairs and a few polished pinewood tables scattered around the room. Rhaza and Whylam were sitting in two of these chairs, but there was another man with back facing her. But Alva instantly recognized his pale blond hair. It was the mysterious rider. Whylam noticed her first and stood with a polite smile. “Would you care to join us?” He motioned to an empty chair in-between Rhaza and the other man. Rhaza and the other man turned to see what Whylam was looking at and Rhaza nodded to Alva before turning back to Whylam. The other man stood and bowed slightly. His pale blue eyes seemed familiar but she could not place who they reminded her of. “You must be lady Alvamaria.” Alva sighed. “Just Alva please.” The man raised his eyebrows but Alva could tell he was surprising a smile. “Alright, ‘just Alva.’ I am Aril, and pleased to make your acquaintance.” Alva curtsied and said solemnly, “It is my honor Lord Aril.” Rhaza started laughing and Whylam sat while saying, “I can see these two will get along fine, though I’m not sure we needed more of Aril’s humor.” Alva smiled and Aril laughed. “Alva, please, do sit, Millie is bringing some tea and cakes.”

Alva went over to the empty seat and sat down with a plunk. Rhaza recovered himself and they resumed talking. They were talking about was the changes in the markets for grain and fruit and about the gossip surrounding the nobles of the area, but Alva noticed that Aril kept glancing at her with looks that might have expressed suspicion. Millie came in shortly after Alva had sat down and kept making faces at Alva whenever Whylam started talking about the king. Alva had to take a bite of a cake to keep from smiling. After a while she realized a question had been directed at her. Seeing her confusion, Aril repeated his question despite Rhaza’s warning glare. “I asked you how you came to be traveling with Rhaza.” Alva frowned and looked down at her hands in her lap. Obviously Rhaza had not told anyone, and Alva was thankful for that. Whylam had a right to know because she was staying in what she had discovered is his home, but what right did Aril have to know? Whylam’s voice was quiet when he spoke. “If it is uncomfortable to speak of, I’m sure Aril will not press the matter.” Alva looked up at Whylam. “Thank you, but you have a right to know seeing as how I’m in your home, eating your food in your parlor.” She smiled a stiff, forced smile and nodded toward him before turning to look at Aril. “I just don’t see how it concerns him.” Aril flushed and looked away under her accusing gaze. She sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t matter really. It is no secret.” Alva let out short laugh. “It isn’t even that much of a story.” She pulled her feet up into the chair and looked out the window so she would not see their faces. She could not bear it to see if they looked at her with disgust and pity.

“Papa and Torap, my brother, came back to our farm from the Horlu market about a week ago. At diner on that first day they were back, papa told me he had found someone he wanted me to marry.” She paused a second under the emotions that her father’s memory had brought up, but continued. “I was furious with him, he had decided to give me away to someone I didn’t even know.” She quickly wiped away the tear that had rolled down her face but did not look away from the window. “Two days after they took me to Horlu to meet the man. His name was Elltren and he was nice enough to me. When Elltren and I were traveling, he seemed distracted and distant but he finally told me why when we left Varee. He had planned to give me away to slave traders to settle some kind of debt, if Elltren did not give them a person, then they would take him instead. We made a plan so that we could both get free, but it didn’t work. I got caught.” Alva shrugged off the gasp she heard, she guessed from Millie. “Their horses were faster than my poor Meriyl. The trader’s rode for a long time after that, I’m not clear on how long. When they stopped for the night, they tied me to a pole so I could not escape while they drank themselves to sleep.” She unconsciously rubbed the bruises on her wrists at the memory. “But then Rhaza freed me and helped me to escape, but I had nowhere to go. I could not go home, disgracing my father, and I could not stay out there on my own, I would not have known how the last a night by myself, so Rhaza offered to take me with him where he was going. Then I ended up here at Whylam’s house in the capital..”

The room drifted into silence and she noticed that the light had faded from the sky out the window. When Alva could no longer stand the silence, she turned to the others. They were all looking at her except Aril who was looking at the unlit fireplace. “If that is enough to satisfy your curiosity Aril, I think I’ll go to bed.” She saw Aril flinch and Millie jumped up taking her arm. “I’ll take you to your room.” She led Alva out of the room, but Alva still saw a glimpse of the anger on Rhaza’s face, the pity on Whylam’s, and of the shame on Aril’s.

When they reached her door, Millie stopped and said softly, “Aril is usually quite a nice man. Its just that he does not trust easily, he is used to it just being Whylam, Rhaza and me when he is here. He was dreadfully surprised when he found that you were here too.” Millie looked pained. “Just don’t hold it against him, please.” Alva gave a poor attempt at a smile. “It’s fine. I suppose he would have heard it soon enough anyways. I’m just tired.” Millie nodded and said with a ghost of her earlier cheerful self, “Goodnight then.” Alva went into the room and closed the door behind her. She pulled off the dress and kicked off the slippers. Once she was in the nightshirt she saw on the bed, she crawled under the covers and stared at the night sky through her window.

Alva did not know how long it was after she had left the parlor, but that night right before she drifted asleep she heard her door open. Peaking through a half opened lid, she saw a silhouette formed by a candle in the hall. She recognized it as Rhaza as he walked into her room. Alva sat up and rubbed her eyes when he sat next to her on her bed. “What is it Rhaza?” She could not see his face. “Is something wrong.” “No. No, nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking about something.” He looked away, facing the window. “Why did you leave me out when you were telling your story?” Alva was tired and did not know why something like this would worry Rhaza. “It just did not seem right that I should tell it.” She yawned. “That’s more part of your story anyways, right?” Rhaza sighed. “I suppose, but I just wanted to say thanks and to ask that you not mention it to anyone. I’m afraid they would have a hard time believing that you just healed me.” Rhaza stood and laughed. “Lets not start a scandal, shall we?” Alva nodded and laid back in bed. Rhaza leaned down and brushed her hair off her face. His breath was warm against her ear as he whispered, “Sleep now Alva.” But she was already asleep.