Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1) (6 page)

The soft sound of Mya’s voice is carried on the breeze to me, surprisingly clear above the pounding of the horses. She sings a song of calm healing, its words ancient and melodic. They round the corner at full speed, four horses and three riders. Mya leads the charge with my mother’s empty-saddled horse tethered to her own. Behind her, Elliot rides with my father’s horse close beside him. As they near, I realize my father’s form is slumped over the neck of his horse, his hands bound to the reins. At first I think he’s unconscious, but as they near he raises his head slightly and I gasp. His face is a solid, swollen bruise. Blood is caked over his right eye. The side of his helm, which is tied to his saddle, is badly dented; he has obviously been bludgeoned in the head.

Bryse emerges from his house to meet them as they skid to a stop. The horses dance in place as Elliot works deftly to free my father’s hands and legs from the bindings that served to keep him steady on the journey, and then Luca leads the horses away to the stable. Mya’s voice melds perfectly with her lute as the men heft my father, and as her healing song washes over us all I can feel my own strength returning. My father’s form is  limp, and I grab his hand as Bryse rushes him past me into the house. We stumble up the stairs together and Bryse lays him in bed. Mya’s singing and it helps me feel better. I know it’s helping Da, too. His eyes are closed now. He lies unmoving and I when I squeeze his hand, it’s cool and still in mine.

“Brother Donal is on his way,” Elliot says softly, resting a hand on my shoulder. I reach and brush a blood-crusted strand of hair from my father’s brow.

“What happened to him?” I whisper. In my mind I see my mother’s empty saddle and I go numb. I won’t ask. My father is here. He needs me now.

“We don’t know for certain.” Mya answers softly. “He and your mother crossed the border ahead of us into Kythshire. He returned raving mad, struck by his own hammer. Lis...” She clears her throat. “Elliot went to find her but only met with the empty boundary.”

“We know exactly which path they took,” Elliot’s tone is apologetic, “but there was no sign of their passing, in or out of the border. It was as though she disappeared.”

“Redemption stayed to search for her. We didn’t realize the extent of Benen’s injuries at the time or we would have had their cleric come with us. We thought to keep him with us, but in the end we agreed he’d be better off here, with the Conclave to tend to him.”

“So we decided to ride hard for home,” Elliot finishes for her. Brother Donal’s arrival is announced by the soft rustling of robes, and he tries to move me aside to get to my father, but I refuse to budge. I know they’re talking around me, but I’m unable to focus on what they’re saying.

Finally, Bryse’s strong hands scoop under my arms and Donal pries my fingers away, and I watch my father’s hand fall limply to the bed. I’m vaguely aware I’m being carried down the stairs and tucked into our worn sofa with a soft blanket. Bryse and Mouli whisper in hushed tones. A mug of something warm is pressed into my hands. Mya’s healing song continues to fill the house. The cushion beside me sinks under Bryse’s weight as he sits.

“Why are you sitting here?” I turn to him suddenly, surprised by my own fury. “Why are you just sitting here when my father is up there dying and my mother is lost who knows where, maybe even--?” I can’t say it. Bryse turns to me sadly and I realize Cort is here, too, and Uncle and Rian are behind them, crowded in the kitchen with Mouli.

“He’ll be okay, Azi. Donal will heal him up,” Bryse offers.

“What about Mum?” I shout and jump up, throwing down the mug, which shatters at my feet. “We have to go! We have to find her!” My rant is interrupted by a knock at the door. Enraged, I stalk to it and throw it open.

A page in royal livery stands perfectly erect, his gloved hand offering an envelope stamped with the royal seal. He bows when I take it from him, and then turns and trots off in the direction of the palace. My hands are shaking so much I have difficulty opening it. Rian comes to my side and takes it gently. He cracks the seal and pulls out a quickly scrawled note.

“His Royal Highness Prince Eron requests the presence of Lady Mya Eldinae and Elliot Eldinae to recount the details of their quest at their earliest convenience.”

“He must have gotten word of our return,” Elliot says from the bottom of the stairs. His low voice does little to calm me. “I’ll tell Mya.” Rian hands the note to his father and then folds me into his arms. At first I feel like fighting him away, but it’s so comfortable I rest against him and bury my face into his shoulder. He smells sweet, like the spicy smoke of the incense I know is used to aid in Rumination. Suddenly, I wish we were alone together.

“I’m glad you finally decided to wake up,” he murmurs as the others converse quietly in the kitchen. I nod into his shoulder. I want to tell him about everything, even the dream, but it will have to wait. Upstairs, Mya has stopped playing to talk with Elliot, and I can hear Brother Donal at prayer over my father. I hear the couple come down the stairs, and I feel Mya’s arms around the two of us. She kisses Rian on the cheek and tells him to take care of me, and then she and Elliot slip off into the darkening streets to the castle.

Curled in the crook of my father’s strong arm, I lie staring out his window at the cloud-covered sky. I imagine the moon dancing behind the clouds, smiling as it did in my dream. Sleep won’t come for me tonight. I’m afraid if I let it take me, I might be out for days again and miss something important. I have a feeling even if I wanted to doze, I wouldn’t be able to. My head is too filled with thoughts darting in and out, making me dizzy.

After Mya and Elliot left for the palace, Brother Donal called me up to my father’s room. He told me Da’s physical wounds were grave, and had Mya and Elliot not raced him home so quickly, he would be in much worse shape. But his healing took well, and with luck and good care Da should be up and about within a day or two. I’m so grateful. Too many times tonight I’ve imagined life without him and it was too painful to bear. I turn away from the window to look at him. The bruises on his face are faded to a yellow-gray ghost of what they had been earlier this afternoon. There is a scar across his brow where he took the worst of the blow, but after the healing and with the blood cleaned away it isn’t so frightening to look at now.

After a while I hear the door downstairs open and close, and the soft shuffle of Rian’s footsteps as he makes his way upstairs. He peeks his head into the room.

“They’re ready for us,” he whispers. I sit up and turn and stroke my father’s stubbly cheek, and then pull the blankets up to his shoulders and smooth them tenderly.

“Sleep sweet, Da,” I whisper as Rian’s warm hand encloses around mine and he leads me down the stairs.

“What did the prince say to your parents?” I ask him once we’re downstairs. He pauses in the dark sitting room.

“He wanted a full report of the Quest.” He scowls. “He told them they’re to go back and find your mother at all costs. But he said they must keep it a secret. Their Majesties don’t want anyone to catch wind the quest might have failed. He said it’s a bad omen for his marriage. It was supposed to be a simple task.”

“A simple task?” I shake my head in disbelief, “They were sent to a land that isn’t supposed to exist on a mysterious quest to return some lost treasure and to whom? Kythshire has no people! It’s only spoken of in legends and storybooks. How is that a simple task?” Rian shakes his head.

“I don’t know. My mother seemed to feel the same way, though she’d never say it.” He reaches up and rubs his eyes. He looks exhausted. “It seems to me she agreed with everything the prince said just to get through the meeting quickly. Her greatest concern is to find your mother. She wants to ride at dawn, as soon as she’s able to talk to us and make arrangements.” I’m comforted by Mya’s urgency to start the search. It means she believes there’s hope my mother is still alive. Not for the first time tonight, the thought of being orphaned at sixteen pushes into the edge of my mind. I shove it away.

“Do you think we’ll be able to go this time?” I ask. I would hate to leave my father behind, but I can’t imagine the agony of sitting here in an empty guild hall while everyone else goes off to search.

“That’s what they were discussing when I was sent out to get you.” he says shaking his head. “It’s hard to say which way the conversation was tipping. Mum, Bryse, and Cort were for it. Gaethon and Donal seemed to be against.”

“And your father?” I ask. If Elliot was for it too, that would help.

“Sleeping,” he says with a bemused shake of his head.

“Always sleeping,” I sigh.  “Well, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

There is no fanfare or royal proclamation, no crowd at the door of this guild meeting. When we arrive at the hall, everyone is slouched in armchairs around the great hearth. The air is thick with a sense of tedium and fatigue. Mya looks especially exhausted but determined. There’s a fire in her eyes that matches the bright red shock of her spiked hair. Beside her, Elliot is curled up in his own chair, his eyes closed, sound asleep just as Rian had said. Across from him, Bryse, Cort, and Brother Donal are bent together in quiet conversation. Master Gaethon sits rail-straight on the edge of his cushion. When Rian and I enter the room, he eyes us thoughtfully and gestures to two chairs between himself and Mya. They exchange looks and Mya nods to him. She closes her eyes as he addresses us.

“It has been decided that the two of you are to remain here,” he raises his voice as Rian and I start to protest, and holds his hand up impatiently to silence us. I bite my tongue hard and slump back into the chair, crossing my arms. Being left off of the quest list was bad enough, but being made to stay home through this is unthinkable.

“Azaeli, you are to care for your father.” Uncle says. “When he is well enough to ride, you may accompany him to meet us.” He presses his fingertips together and turns to Rian, “Rian, I will take a temporary leave of my position at the Academy and join in the search. Mistress Viala,” he pauses and meets Rian’s eye meaningfully, “will oversee your studies while I am away. You will show her the same respect you show me. Understood?” His eyes burn into Rian’s and I find myself looking away uncomfortably.

“Yes, Sir,” Rian says, his tone careful and disciplined. I can’t help but be impressed by his restraint. Viala is Rian’s rival, his own version of Dacva. Though she’s only a couple of years older than him, she’s has far surpassed him in her studies during her short time at the Academy. I know for a fact he both admires and resents her for it.

“I have begun research on the source of Azaeli’s affliction.” He hands Rian a thick roll of notes. “The sword itself showed no sign of magical tampering. I have suggested other causes in my notes, and it is important you explore them together. You will write a report of your findings and send it on to me. You are to share this information with no one else. If you complete this task by the time Sir Benen is able to ride, then you may join him and Azaeli to meet us.”

“Yes, sir,” Rian says again as he unrolls the scroll and looks it over with interest. I crane my neck and he leans closer so we can read it together.

“Azi, if you’re feeling up to it, I’m sure your help is needed with the preparations for our departure. Luca could use a hand in the stables.” Mya stretches and rises with the grace of a dancer despite her obvious exhaustion. She leans down to her sleeping husband and tickles his cheek. “If no one has anything else, I’m going to try to steal an hour or two of rest before we set out.” There is a collective noise of dismissal from the group as those gathered agree she should rest. Elliot blinks slowly and slides to his feet a bit reluctantly, and the two of them step out of the room together hand in hand. Watching their tenderness reminds me of my own parents and sends an ache through my chest. I swallow hard and push myself up. The others are too involved in their own conversations to acknowledge my leaving.

On the step between the guild hall and the training square, I hesitate, remembering my last moments in this room, when I gripped my sword and passed out. I take a deep breath and steel myself before I step down onto the packed dirt floor. Nothing happens. I glance over my shoulder and bend to pick up my sword, which has been returned to the rack. Pain shoots through my fingertips as they graze the hilt and I bite my lip to keep from crying out. Furious and confused, I storm off to the stable and lose myself in my work.

Eventually Luca joins me and we spend the morning repacking the saddlebags and grooming and checking the horses for injuries. Ollie, My mother’s enormous white draft horse, nuzzles me and we lean against each other as I brush his mud-crusted haunch. In the quiet solitude of the stable with my mother’s horse beside me, I succumb to my fear and cry into his soft, warm shoulder.

Through my tears, I catch a glimmer of multi-colored light outside of the stable. When I snap my head toward it, I’m met with only the dark curve of a tree trunk and rustling leaves washed gray in the light of the dull, foggy dawn. My hand slides over Ollie’s strong leg to my mother’s saddlebags. Unthinking, I open one of them, and my fingers graze a sheet of parchment. I pull it out and crouch in the straw, holding it up to the lamp light of the stable. I blink my tears rapidly away so I can read:

My Dear Azi,

It is with a heavy heart that I write this, imagining you alone, reading it. We know the risks of our profession, but each time it seems to get more difficult to say goodbye and leave you behind. This time, especially so. If I should not return, I want you to know how proud I am of the young woman you’ve become. I know in my heart you will one day be a knight and honor the values we have taught you. Always remember the values our family stands for: Integrity, kindness, justice, charity, and loyalty.

With that in mind, I leave you with a warning. Listen to your heart, my Sweeting. Pay attention to your dreams. If you must venture, never do so alone. Have faith in the Elite, but be wary of others who you’ve grown to trust. Be cautious. That is all I dare say here. I love you always and forever, no matter where I am, my darling girl. Be strong.

As ever, it is my prayer you never have a reason to find or read this note.
 

With all of my love,
Mum

I read it three times, committing it to memory, and then I tuck it back inside the bag. When my mother returns, I’ll keep her believing that her prayer was heard, and I never saw it.

“All right, Sunshine?” Luca asks, peering around Ollie at me. I nod and wipe my eyes as I push myself to my feet. “Atta girl. Give me a hand with this, here.” He nods at the saddle girth around Mya’s horse and I go over to help him. His long, knobby fingers work to pull the cinch tight, but they slip off. “Argh, these old hands,” he grumbles, and I take the billet strap from him and buckle it snug under the horse’s belly. “That’s it, thank you.” Luca says, patting me on the shoulder. I give him a weak smile and check the rest of the tack.

As I tie Mya’s cantle bags to the back of the saddle, I’m aware of the approach of clomping hoof beats. I look out into the soft light of sunrise to see Rian leading a horse I immediately recognize as Thunder.

“Good lad,” Bryse calls from inside the passage that runs to the guild hall. He strides up to his horse and strokes his gleaming neck, “Hey, beaut,” he murmurs affectionately before throwing up his own bags and fixing them to the saddle with ease.

Rian barely has time to greet me as the others filter in. There’s a flurry of activity as they make last moment preparations, and Rian and I are sent running for this and that. Then they’re gone, and we’re left alone in the quiet.

“It seems strange to send them off that way,” Rian says as he leans into my shoulder. “No banners, no trumpets...” No Mum or Da, I think to myself. He turns to me and picks a bit of straw from my hair. He gazes into my eyes and I feel my cheeks warm. Here, so close to him, all of my pain and fear seem to fade away. I find my gaze trailing to his lips again.

“Wow,” he whispers, drawing my attention back to his eyes. His brow furrows. “You look awful,” he says with exaggerated gravity.

“Oh! Such a charmer you are!” Mouli bats at him with her kitchen towel. “Course she does with no bath for almost a week and no sleep all night and all morning in the stables mucking about. Look at yourself, little sir! You’re not all blossoms and blooms, either.”

“Ah, Mouli,” Rian winks. “I love it when you call me little sir.” He takes her by the waist and spins her around and she yelps in protest and beats him away playfully. I can’t help but laugh at the scene of the two of them sending straw dust swirling in the sunbeams that filter through the thatched roof of the stable. This is why I’m so glad he’s here. Rian can always make me laugh, no matter how dark things might seem. Mouli eventually fights him off and takes me gently by the elbow.

“Come on, dear. I have a bath ready for you.” I catch Rian’s eye and he wriggles his brows up and down. I bite my lip and shake my head.

“Don’t worry about me, Mouli,” Rian says, dejected. “I guess I can find my own bath.”

“Get out of here!” Mouli shoos him off and Rian skirts out of the stable, flashing a mischievous wink over his shoulder.

“Knock after you’re all cleaned up, Azi,” he calls with a wave as Mouli leads me back inside.

Later, alone in my room, my thoughts wander to the dream I had and how real it was. The memory of the diamond’s hard edge against my palm entices me. The pitcher where I stashed it yesterday gleams in the sunlight, and I reach in and take away the coverlet fashioned from scraps of lace. The facets of the stone send glittering beams dancing all across the walls of the tiny house. I nudge it with my finger and the droplets of light wiggle and flash and mesmerize me. They remind me of the glimmer I thought I saw earlier, outside of the stable. Rian knocks on the hatch and I nearly jump out of my skin. The pitcher falls with a clatter to the floor and the diamond skids across it and rolls under my bed. I swear I hear a sound, something like a sneeze, as the knock comes again and I jump up to slide the hatch open.

“What are you doing in there, throwing things?” He cranes his neck to look into my room.

“You startled me!” I pick up the pitcher and set it upright on the shelf beneath my window. I’ll retrieve the diamond later.

“Jumpy,” he says as he rests his chin on the edge of the opening. “I like you better this way than sleeping beauty, though.”

“Me too,” I say honestly.

“At least you smell better now.” He wrinkles his nose.

“Thanks,” I roll my eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asks. “We have work to do.”