Divided (28 page)

Calis was contented to take him into the building,
regardless, and he didn’t seem at all worried about the women’s reactions to
him.  Taeru heard the moment Alyx saw him.  There was a mix between a gasp and
a squeal.  Taeru forced himself to wake up enough to glance at her, and he
found that one of his eyes closed without reason.  “Kilik,” she squeaked.  Still,
her eyes were drawn to the prince holding him.

“Sorry for the intrusion, but your friend needed help
getting home, and I didn’t trust him to get to the house by himself,” the words
were matter-of-fact, but Taeru felt mildly insulted by them.

In another moment, there was another gasp, and Taeru managed
to make his eyes find Juliet.  She looked stricken.  “Kilik?” she said warily,
and her eyes were loyally glued to his form.  Taeru finally forced his words to
come back to him.

“I’m okay,” Taeru answered weakly.

“Y-you are… what did you do to him?” Juliet yelped.  Taeru
winced at the accusation in her voice.  If Calis needed a reason to have them
all executed, he had it now.

Nevertheless, the patience that Calis showed was admirable. 
“I didn’t hurt him,” Calis spoke with that strange irritation that he’d shown
when Taeru had explained what had happened to his leg.  Still, he didn’t seem
as though he were going to kill anyone yet.  “I would not hurt him,” and when
Calis said the words, they sounded horrified—insulted. 

“He saved me,” Taeru affirmed dutifully. 

Alyx jumped forward, and her eyes were alight with
admiration and wonder.  Taeru wouldn’t have been surprised if the blond had
torn Taeru out of the prince’s arms, thrown him to the floor, and tried to bear
Calis’s children right then.  “But you!  You are Calis Tsrali—the prince!”

“I am,” Calis said warily.  His patience was being tried,
but he seemed composed enough so that Taeru didn’t feel any need to protect
Alyx and Juliet.  He did wish they weren’t insulting the prince, though.  Even
if Calis was trying to get information from him, they were doing nothing to
stop it.  “I apologize for not being up front with you before, but the time
didn’t permit that I explain my identity.  Now is probably not the best time,
either—Kilik needs attention,” he said firmly.

“So he does,” Juliet acknowledged.  “Come, bring him here.” 
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Taeru, and he wondered if she noticed how
Calis seemed to be clutching him to his chest.  Taeru felt a little odd, but
he’d been trying to ignore the tightness—the protectiveness—of the hold. 
Perhaps Taeru just wanted to believe it was real, after all—he wasn’t sure
anyone had cared for him to this degree before.  Juliet had certainly healed
him, but he’d always been responsible for appearing at the right times and
holding out until she was available.

Calis had dropped everything, and he had even stopped the
noblemen who were hurting Taeru.  That was not something Taeru was sure he’d
ever experienced, and he doubted he ever would again.  Then, there was the way
Calis was holding him—as though Taeru were some priceless relic that had to be
handled with the utmost care and protection.

Pain washed over him when he tried to adjust his body, and
instead of doing what he wanted, his head fell feebly against Calis’s
shoulder.  In a moment, they had entered Juliet’s healing room, and he felt
Calis lowering him onto the table.  Taeru had the instinctive reaction to cling
to Calis, but he ignored it.  Though, the manner in which Calis released him
was reluctant, and the blue-green eyes hung on his form for longer than
necessary.  “Can you help him?” Calis asked apprehensively.

Juliet seemed amused, and even as consciousness began to
leave him entirely, Taeru saw the healer’s soft smile.  “I can,” she answered. 
“I apologize for the accusation, your highness—I just… perhaps I should rethink
my opinion of all men of noble birth.”

“I would not be so quick to revise your cautions, my lady,”
Calis said thoughtfully, “nobles are the reason he is injured.”  Calis sounded
so completely angry.  Taeru felt himself shiver at the tone.  He was sure that
he never wanted to be on the wrong end of that wrath.

This only seemed to make Juliet even more pleased with the
overly dressed man that had entered her home.  “You are right,”  she said, “but
I should not have accused you, seeing the way you held him with such fervor.”  Calis
had
been holding him with what appeared to be incredible desperation.  Taeru
felt his cheeks heat up again, though they likely assumed he was already
unconscious. 

“Do not worry yourself with it.  Just heal him, and you will
have my eternal gratitude.”  The words made little sense.  Why would Taeru’s
healing make Calis eternally grateful?  Taeru was nothing to Calis—after all,
Calis was a Tsrali and therefore a prince of Telandus.  Not only that, but he’d
spent far too much time saving Taeru’s life already. 

Juliet laughed.  “My, my, your highness!  And I thought
Tsrali was a name that could not be associated with chivalry.” the healer said
with growing ease and amusement.  Taeru was sure that he should be unconscious
for this.  Surely he was delusional. 

“Do not mistake my affections for chivalry, madam,” the
other voice answered without pause.

“How direct you are,” Juliet said whimsically.

At last, he could feel the tunnel of unconsciousness easing
its way into his mind and the voices in the room seemed to get further and
further away.  “There isn’t any reason to hide what you’ve clearly already
seen, my lady,” someone said.

“Please, call me Juliet.  I am afraid I cannot uphold the
formalities you know, as I’ve never had a prince in my home before…”

“And upon the insult, Aleia, the Magister of
Manipulation and No Longer Direction, vowed revenge upon the Hero, at any
cost.”

-A Hero’s Peace, v.i

The wrath of a king was never easy to endure, but this
particular occasion made it far worse.  Veyron was mad with rage as he stormed
about the halls, calling out to a daughter that would surely never answer him. 
Ryo searched for Aela in every place he knew to search, but even her Lower Town
hangouts had not seen her.  Ryo should have known his fool sister would find a
way to go with the spy party—she had always had feelings for Leif Firenz.  Even
when they had been children, Taeru and Ryo had joked that the two of them would
be married.

Leif and Aela would never have accepted that.  Well, Leif
may have in his later years, but Aela was always very firm in her denial.  But
the idea of Leif running away to Telandus had clearly been too hard on Ryo’s sister,
and she had found some way to go with them.  Despite the parties that had been
sent out to retrieve the spies, nothing had come back yet.  Ryo didn’t even
know if they’d find them.  Their course was not set, and they would be working
to stay out of sight.  “How could she do this?” Veyron bellowed, anger
resonating through his voice.

Ryo was now the one who had to bear the brunt of the
assault, as he was the only child of Veyron’s that had not been inclined to
whisk himself away to some remote land.  Taeru was partially to blame for this,
Ryo knew.  His little brother had always wanted to get out of Cathalar, or
rather, away from the war that approached.  Taeru had spent his entire life
trying to convince every noble he met that the war was a bad idea.

Still, even Taeru had come to see that there was nothing he
could do.  Even the most saintly of men had to accept that everything Lavus was
doing to Cathalar was a declaration of war.  At last, Taeru had accepted that
point, though he’d cautioned Ryo constantly to be careful—and Taeru had left. 

The two of them had discussed briefly where Taeru might go,
but the crown prince hadn’t the foggiest idea.  He only knew that he wanted to
leave, and that at some point, he wanted to find a way to stop this war before
it occurred.  Ryo had actually had a little faith in his brother when he’d
left.  It made little sense, though, as Taeru was only thirteen at the time,
and the odds of him making it through the wilderness with very few supplies
were not good.

Still, Ryo didn’t like to think that anything had happened
to Taeru.  After all, Veyron had wanted Taeru to rule for many reasons.  He was
more competent in nearly every regard, and even if he hadn’t been the greatest
politician in the world—he had been a good person.  If a trader had run into
Taeru, he would be hard-pressed to want to kill him.  Taeru just exuded
happiness, and the kindness that he’d shown even the commonest of people was
extraordinary.

The loss of Aela had brought the loss of Taeru back into
Ryo’s mind, and back into Veyron’s.  The king had been prattling endlessly for
several shifts now about where Aela could have gone.  They had searched
everywhere, and no one had seen or heard from her since the spy caravan had
left.  If Aela hadn’t pretended to be sick, then they would have noticed her
absence soon enough to draw the spies back.

She had, though, because she was as clever as Taeru—and now
they had no means of pursuing the spy troupe without alerting Telandan guards,
or other traders, that the caravan was associated with Cathalar.  Veyron knew
that, fortunately, and he hadn’t foolishly sent men to find her.  Nevertheless,
the king was distraught—the idea of his only daughter in the same land as
Lavus?  That would horrify even the coldest of fathers.

“She would not have left if he had been here,” Veyron hissed
at no one in particular.  Everyone was staring at the king, half expecting him
to morph into some dragon creature and destroy all of them.  “I should never
have let him go!”

“It has been five years since Taeru left,” Ryo answered
dutifully.  This was certainly not all Taeru’s fault, though it was impossible
to deny that he had played some part in Aela’s decision to leave. 

Veyron glared at his last remaining son.  “I’m aware of
that, Ryo,” he answered snappily.  “But do not think me so stupid as to believe
that she had forgotten him.  She fantasized about him.  She longed to be with
him.  When I had my men follow her into Lower Town, she was constantly trying
to discuss him with the commoners.”

The voice was shaking, trembling in fact.  Veyron was
furious, and afraid of losing Aela.  She was his little girl, and even if they
had come to blows on many occasions, Veyron had loved Aela—and she him.  But
now she had left with a spy caravan and would soon be within the walls of
Telandus.  “Aela did what she felt she needed to,” Ryo said weakly.

That was going to be of little consolation if anything
happened to the poor girl.  Taeru had been competent, but while Aela was a
clever girl—she was not fit for life on the road.  Ryo knew that she’d been
trained to wield a sword and bow, but she was no expert with the sword—as all
of her lessons had been in secret.

Aela knew how to use a bow like most archers, but a bow
could not save a life if the enemy got close.  She would be in trouble if she
were cornered, or even if the enemy got close enough to her.  Ryo would have to
depend on Leif’s affections for the princess to ensure her survival.  “I grow
tired of you children and what you feel you need to do.  At least your brother
had the decency to tell me that he wanted to abandon everything to go on some
fool’s errand.”

Taeru had been less cowardly than Aela in that regard.  Still,
that didn’t mean that Veyron wasn’t just as mad as he was now.  Maybe not as
afraid, but just as angry.  “Leif Firenz cares very much for Aela,” Ryo said,
“and I do not think he would let harm come to her.”

“Magisters help me if anything does,” Veyron said weakly.

“Journeys each separate, but destined to intertwine.”

-A Hero’s Peace v.ii

The wagon finally came to a slow stop.  They had left the
road some time ago to try and find a suitable place for camp.  They would not
be at the next town for a few suns yet, and that meant camping on the ground. 
This wasn’t the first time they had to stop to camp, though Aela was none more
prepared for it this time.

The last time had consisted of the men sitting about the
fire telling war stories to which she couldn’t hope to relate.  She had simply
feigned tiredness and gotten out of it that time, but she was certain it would
look suspicious if she did so again.  Then, there was the matter of Leif, who
had been avoiding her unswervingly.

She sighed.  He was the reason she was here, but his shock
at her appearance had not dimmed in the past two cycles.  She wished fervently
that she could find a time to talk to him, but he always seemed preoccupied
with other things.  Leif was never one to let himself get too involved in
trivial matters, either, so she was confident that he was avoiding her.  What
harm did he think talking to her would cause?  She was here, now.  He was only
making her feel estranged by ignoring her.

The driver of the wagon came around with a light smile and
informed them all what they already knew—that they would be camping here for
the moon shifts.  A few of the men got out before Aela, and she didn’t bother
trying to wait for Leif as she had in the past—he always found a way to circumnavigate
her, even in the small extent of the wagon.

When she hopped out, she surveyed the surroundings.  They
had been moving for quite some time, in fact, within the next cycle they would
be in Telandus.  They hadn’t had any problems, and all the traders they’d run
into had been quite amiable.  Now they were within a savannah that would
inevitably end at the gates of Telandus.  Cathalar’s rival city had far more
fields and trees surrounding it than their current location did, however.

The wagon driver had done well to find the few trees that
dotted the area so that they wouldn’t be sleeping in plain sight.  There was a
nearby cliff side where they could easily set up the fire.  That way, at least
one of their sides would be protected.  “Teral,” Leif said pointedly, “why
don’t you take a few men and see if you can’t get some decent wood for a fire?”

Wild animals on the savannah were not at all attracted to
fires, and in fact, up until this point—Aela wasn’t sure she’d seen a single
predator.  She wished she hadn’t thought that, surely they would run into one now. 
When Teral nodded his head, Leif grabbed several supplies out of the wagon. 
“I’ll set up the tent.”

Aela, seeing this as an opportunity that could easily have
been ruined by any of the other men offering to help, leapt at it.  “I’ll
help,” she said earnestly.  Leif’s dark eyes held hers for a moment, but then
he nodded and they headed towards the cliff.  The camp consisted of three tents,
which they had to erect, and though Leif didn’t seem to want to talk to Aela, he
had insisted on being in the same tent as her every moon they camped.

Leif began to remove the first set of support sticks from
the bag and set them in their proper locations.  Aela joined him momentarily,
helping to keep the sticks steady as he worked.  Learning how to set up a tent
was something that Taeru had taught her long ago, and Aela would never forget
one of her favorite brother’s lessons.  Many of them had come in handy on this
trip, and she was sure that she hadn’t expended all of them yet. 

As they worked in silence, Aela tried to think of a way to
speak to Leif.  The entire concept felt awkward—and she realized that Leif’s
avoidance of her may have been because he didn’t want her to drop her cover. 
She wasn’t supposed to be Aela, so why should she crave Leif’s attentions any more
than the other men?  She should be completely in character, but there was
something entirely impossible about that.  She couldn’t forget who she
was—after all, Aela Lassau was just as competent as any Aelic Eirgold was.  Out
of the corner of her eye, Aela could see that Patea and a few of the other men
had set out to survey their surroundings for any traders in the area.

This was a chance to talk to Leif as Aela, and one that she
would probably not have again soon.  Still, though, the way Leif worked as
though his life depended on it made her feel strange about saying anything at
all.  She was simply glad to be helping him, really, and a few times, he
muttered a quick ‘thank you’ when she managed to drill a stick into place. 
Tents weren’t really that difficult to construct—all they consisted of were a
few sticks pushed together in such a way that they could support the leather
skin that was laid over them. 

Aela glanced up at the sky, noting that the tents might
actually be necessary on this particular moon.  The clouds had gathered and
were dark against the sky that was increasingly dim as the sun faded from it. 
When they finished the second tent, Leif’s eyes met Aela’s for a long moment. 
She was certain that he was going to speak to her, but then he moved to grab
the next set of sticks and they followed the same process.

This time, she let him handle most of the sticks, and
instead ran her fingers over the soft leather hide.  She thought absently about
the animal that had been killed to make it.  From the feel of it, she’d assume
some kind of deer.  The cover was certainly not as silky as the pelt of a lion
or other predator would suggest.  Unfortunately, if they had a pelt like that
with them, then bandits would be drawn to them, and Telandan guardsmen may view
them as suspicious.  Therefore, they used only minimal supplies.

At last, Leif finished the setup, and Aela draped the hide
over the final tent.  She adjusted it so that the door was easily accessible,
and when she finished, she looked up to see Leif staring at her with those same
hard, blue eyes.  “You shouldn’t be here,” he said simply and harshly.

Aela frowned at him.  She preferred being ignored to being
told that she couldn’t be here.  After all, what were they going to do now? 
Her father must already know she was gone.  “Well, I’m here and there isn’t
anything you can do about it now!” she hissed.

“Why would you do this to me?” Leif said weakly.  “If
anything happens to you, this is going to be my fault for not just telling you
no!”

Aela let out a sharp breath.  She was not going to be sent
on a guilt trip by Leif Firenz, of all people.  “Well, if that should happen,
comfort yourself with the knowledge that I would have come whether or not you
said no!  And I would have never spoken to you again if you had said a word to
my father.”

His eyes narrowed as he regarded her.  “I would prefer you
never speaking to me again than to have to bear the thought that you are dead
because of me.”

“It will never be because of you,” Aela said.

Leif clenched his fists and thrust his arms outwards as he
advanced on her.  He looked as though he were ready to strike her down
himself.  “That will be of little consequence if you die!” he said shortly.

“You think me so incompetent?” she snarled.

He blanched, and then a low growl escaped him.  “No, I know
you are competent.  Your life, though, is far too valuable to play such
frivolous games with—no matter your skill.”

“Allow me to quote my brother,” she hissed, “if my life is
so precious that it cannot aid in the protection of my people, then it truly
holds no value at all.”

Leif’s jaw clenched.  “Taeru would hang himself if he’d
known you would use his words as an excuse to risk your own life.”

“I’m no child.”

“I… I know that.  But you are important to…”  His pause was
long.  “…the kingdom.”

The moment passed, though Aela had the distinct impression
that Leif was going to kiss her then.  Of course, he did nothing of the sort. 
“I appreciate your concern, Leif, truly.  But I will be careful.  Let me help
you, please.”

“Help me?”  Leif scoffed.  “How do you intend to help me? 
Perhaps you can take a killing blow for me?” he asked sardonically.

She frowned, though the thought hadn’t occurred to her until
just then.  She would most certainly have taken the killing blow for Leif, but
the fact that he might do the same, and her presence could be the reason for
his death was a little alarming.  Though, if she thought like that, then she
would certainly be a hindrance.  “Stop thinking of me as the princess.  Just
think of me as another weapon to aid you.  I might be of some use yet.”

Leif sighed.  “Ael—”  Aela leapt forward and covered his
mouth with her hands.  Her teeth gritted together.  “Ael
ic
,” he said
when she removed her hand.  “I am just worried about you.  I want you to be
safe.  I should not have let you leave Cathalar.”

“Do you not understand that I would have been miserable? 
Taeru, and then you having left me—sitting in Cathalar in the safety of my
oversized room, and knowing that both of you could be dead?  How do you think I
would have felt?”

Leif let out a long breath, and then a smug grin made its
way onto his face.  “I knew you liked me,
sir
,” he said.

“Do
not
flatter yourself.  I would feel the same
about anyone else in this position.”

“I doubt it,” Leif said wryly.  “But, is it possible th-”

“Sir, we’ve gotten enough to start a fire.  I suppose you’re
already done setting up camp?”  Teral said as he entered the campsite and
effectively cut off Leif’s voice, as though he had hit the young spy in the
face.

Leif stared dryly at the man who had just interrupted him,
and for the first time since they had struck out, Leif seemed to desire to be
alone with Aela for a moment.  That was further evidenced in the way his voice
sounded.  “No, Teral, this is an illusion.  I haven’t set up camp at all.”

Teral grinned, despite the fact that Leif wasn’t trying to
be nice.  The dark-haired noblemen never was directly rude, after all.  When he
and Aela had fought, he always held that sarcastic, needling sense of humor
that made you unsure whether to laugh or cry.  “No need to be callous,” Teral
said as a few of the other men entered the camp.

“Indeed,” Leif said wistfully, and then he went to work
helping the rest of the men set up the fire.

Darkness approached quickly as the fire started to burn. 
They all feared that the rain would start before they had a chance to cook any
of the game they had killed.  Travelers tended to have only bread, cheese, and
other products that could not be freely claimed by a hunter.  Aela supposed that
made sense, but she hated that meant that she was expected to hunt. 

She was not very good at it.  She knew how to wield a bow,
and she knew how to strike down a man—but moving silently through a field to
sneak up on some overly alert animal was never easy.  She had done well to kill
the few rabbits and ducks that she’d found.  No one had faulted her for it,
though, as she was the only one who even had a bow.

They roasted the rabbit and a turkey that she had been
fortunate enough to kill.  The men ate the turkey with incredible vigor, and
Aela found herself fighting for selections of the meat that she had killed. 
She thought about informing all of them about this, and that they should wait
until she knew what she wanted—but again, that sounded very princess-like.

Then again, she thought triumphantly, princesses didn’t
often know how to hunt for themselves.  There was a swell of pride as she took
a bite of the turkey leg.  Leif was watching her now, with growing amusement,
and she felt her cheeks rise in temperature. 

The heat could be easily contributed to the fire, though, so
she pretended Leif had no effect on her at all.  “Thank goodness you can hunt,
Aelic,” one of the men, the name of which escaped Aela, told her.  “I might go
mad out here with no meat to sate me.”

Leif frowned.  “I told you that meat would be a rarity on
the trip, Gragresh,” he said.  He looked genuinely displeased with this
statement.  Perhaps he didn’t like that the other men seemed to disagree that
Aela added no value.  Things were never as they seemed with Leif Firenz,
though, ever.  That was one of the many things that Aela hated about him.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate that you were wrong. 
When did you decide to come along, Aelic?  A fortunate decision, that was,”
Gragresh turned to Aela with a cheerful grin on his face, which was marred a
little by the turkey juice splattered across his face.

She hadn’t thought about the answer to that question, but
she needed to think of one quickly.  “I… I don’t know.  I just felt like I’d
rather be with you all than sitting around on idle patrols, so I told the
captain the moon before the caravan left that I’d like to help.  He agreed.” 
Leif’s eyes flashed with amusement at her story.

Well, he could laugh if he wanted, but she thought it was a
rather convincing alibi.  The other men seemed to agree as they all nodded
their heads and were soon occupied with other matters, such as eating the
turkey that she’d provided for them.  “We ought to be careful now,” Patea said
lowly, “I saw the first group of Telandan guards.  Apparently, Lavus—the
bastard—is trying to extend his territory.”

“Well, all he’ll extend to is weeds and animals.  I doubt
even animals would want much to do with Lavus’s poor leadership skills,” Teral
answered with a low growl.  Lavus was very much disliked among the Cathalari
military, even more so than he was among the regular citizens of Cathalar. 
Mostly because Lavus’s foolish desires to make Veyron mad had cost these soldiers
lives of friends that they held very close.

Aela took a long breath.  “I am very interested to know why
it is he seems to desire to piss off our kingdom so badly.  Surely he realizes
that none of the neighboring kingdoms have any inclination to keep Telandus
from falling.”  Her words were strict, and she made sure to keep her voice
lower than it was naturally.