Divided (5 page)

“No honor is too great for my son,” Lavus answered swiftly. 
“Lady Avyon will be glad to know of your continued availability.”  Oh, Lady
Avyon—the most possible of the prospects that Lavus had offered up for Calis. 
An air-headed, black-haired beauty with intelligence akin to that of a broom.  Calis
pretended to be glad, though. 

In fact, after great effort, he even managed a sincere
smile.  “Lovely, then.  I suppose I will see her there.”

“If I may, Father, why is it that you push for marriage now
that Calis has returned from Dokak?  Surely, there are no benefits from a silly
marriage.  He will not rule for many years yet.”  Calis wondered if Tareth was
curious about Calis’s coming into power prematurely.  That would have been the
final slap in the face for Tareth, Calis feared—and he was certain that he
would be deflecting his brother’s assassination attempts regularly.

Though, that was not the case.  Lavus wanted the additional
support—that was all.  Lavus would not give up the throne until he was a pile
of bones.  “Tareth, insolent boy, you understand nothing of rule.  Any
additional loyalty will help our cause—even within our own walls, and marriage
is a lovely means of securing that.”

Just that, Calis thought.  Never had Lavus thought that
marriage could have anything more involved than a pass at political growth. 
Love had never crossed his father’s mind.  “In the coming war with Cathalar, we
will need our armies and people to be stronger than ever, and Calis’s marriage
to one of the young noblewomen will help that.  Especially family Avyon.”

However, Calis’s father had never bothered to consider that
Calis might not want to marry Lady Avyon.  In fact, that would never have
mattered to any noble, and it probably shouldn’t matter to Calis.  When he
thought about it—it really didn’t.  He had long since resigned himself to that
the fact that love was a thing for fairy tales—and poor men.

“The skies grew dark, and the air grew stifled, and
despite it all, the wars continued.”

-A Hero’s Peace, v.i

Aela Lassau reached up for the last pin that held her long
black hair up in its perch above her head.  The curly black locks fell around
her shoulders and the relief that accompanied it was immediate.  She let out a
long breath.  “Aela,” her brother spoke from a few paces behind her.  “Why
would you do that?  Father will expect it up for dinner.”

“Father will live, Ryo,” she answered curtly.  “Dinner isn’t
till sundown and I have no interest in making myself miserable all sun-up.” 
She ran her fingers through her thick hair and then shook her head.  Glancing
towards the mirror hanging on the wall, she smiled.  If it were up to her, she’d
have chopped all of her hair off. 

Ryo didn’t bother continuing the line of thought.  They had
just held court for most of the dawning hours—and Ryo knew the discomfort as
well as she did.  Aela would never understand why their father insisted both of
his children be present for every tiny issue.  So many commoners tried to
appeal to their father that court could run nearly all sun-up on some
occasions.  Not like father actually assisted with many of the problems either.

She leaned back against the light wooden desk that sat
before the mirror.  They were in her changing room, which was nothing but a blue-carpeted
room with pink and golden decorated walls.  She hadn’t bothered much with this
room, as she was only in here for a few brief seconds before she was out
again.  Her closet, though, was stockpiled with dozens of multicolored
dresses.  “I do wish the Telandus vie for Dokak had not gone so well.  Father
will be in an ill mood for the next moon phase,” Ryo said blackly.

No doubt, the news they had received this sun had been
devastating.  A messenger had brought news that Dokak had openly declared a
treaty with Telandus—and worst yet, there didn’t seem to be a conditional
marriage associated with it.  Perhaps Aela should visit Telandus some time, and
then she could find a way to get herself out of one of these numerous arranged
marriages her father was attempting to force on her.  Rumor had it the entire
treaty had been done by the eldest Tsrali son—that made sense, since Lavus
Tsrali couldn’t negotiate his way across a flat road.  Now that Dokak was
involved in the war, it would mean that Cathalar would need to turn its
attention toward making powerful allies of their own.

To her knowledge, their father had spoken with the leaders
of Kras, Milan, and Tarne.  None of which had agreed to help, but none of which
disliked any man more than they disliked Lavus Tsrali.  Because while her
father, Veyron, may have ruled with an iron fist.  Lavus was nothing short of
evil.  Dokak was one of the few lands that would have been open to any
allegiance to Lavus, and even they had to know it was a foolish and would be
short-lived. 

“Well, Dokak is only one nation,” she answered her brother. 
Ryo seemed startled that she’d answered so belatedly.  He no doubt thought that
she had simply regarded his statement as rhetorical.  It may well have been,
but Aela wasn’t one to let statements go unsaid.  “I wish there was a way to
make peace with Telandus—if only Lavus wasn’t such a monster, I think father
would agree.”

“Not with Lavus in power, but with another, perhaps.  Maybe
I shall attempt an assassination,” Ryo offered with an amusing grin.

Aela returned it with a mischievous smile.  She didn’t
mention the fact that if one of the two were to be sent to assassinate someone—it
should most likely be her.  Ryo had far more strength and combat experience,
but she had trained in stealth, and despite her father’s wishes, she had
trained with a blade.  “Yes, perhaps we could arrange for the old man to fall
on his sword.”

“You have to wonder though, with Lavus as a father, would
either of the Tsrali children be any less cruel,” Ryo said.  Well, he certainly
was a bit of a downer.  Aela was certain that he had a point, though.  The
possibility was slim that any respectable boy had grown up in Lavus’s
household.

Aela let out a sigh, informed her brother that he had soured
her mood beyond repair.  Then, she cast a glance towards the window, which was
the primary source of light in the room.  Seeing the expanse of land, the
fields, and in the distance, the gates of the city—she thought of her other
brother.  The one who had vanished when she was only nine years old.  Well,
vanished wouldn’t be the proper word.  Taeru had made his decision to leave
well known, and though Aela had begged to go with him, he had refused.

Taeru was younger than Ryo, but older than Aela.  He had
been only thirteen years old when he had decided to leave Cathalar in favor of
a more peaceful life.  Talk of the war had always bothered Taeru more than any
other—and finally, as war grew closer, Taeru had withdrawn himself entirely
from all of them.

Aela could never express how badly she missed him.  Taeru
had been the light of her life.  They had spent time together, and he was the
one who had begun her training with a blade.  He had arranged for one of his
friends in Lower Town to continue it when he left.  He had taken care of Aela
until the very moment he had stepped out of Cathalar forever.

The pain thinking of him brought on was overwhelming.  She
jerked her head away from the window with a breath.  To say that she resented
Taeru for his leaving was not entirely untrue.  She hated that he’d left them,
but she didn’t blame him wholly either, and if given the chance—she would have
hugged him and begged him to return.  Then, after she was certain he would, she
would have slapped him.

What was worse was that they had not heard a single word of
him since the sun he had left.  If Taeru’s intention had been truly to
disappear, then he had done so without flaw.  No one had seen or heard from
him.  None of the neighboring lands that Veyron had told to watch for him had
ever seen him—no messenger, no word of Taeru at all.  However, Aela tried
desperately to convince that this meant that her brother was still out
there—somewhere. 

“Taeru would probably mock you for how much you still think
of him,” Ryo said.  Her emotions were apparently very difficult to mask,
especially to her brother.  Taeru would no doubt have called her a child for
still missing him.  After all, it had been five years since he’d been gone. 
Plenty of time to accept the fact that she was short a brother.  Nevertheless,
Taeru had been her life for the better part of her life.

Fighting the fact that she had been thinking about their
brother seemed foolish, and she just shrugged.  “Do you think he is alright?”
she asked.  A question that she asked Ryo constantly and one that he would
never have an answer to.

“I like to think so.  Taeru was twice our better in any
field.  He could wield a sword better than me by the time he was six,” Ryo
said.  This was partially a jest, but Taeru had been nothing short of
impressive in all regards.  That had been one of the main reasons Veyron had
fought so hard to keep his son within the walls.

Veyron was not the type to restrict freedom, even when it
came at the cost of a personal embarrassment.  Everyone in Cathalar knew that
Taeru was unhappy, and that Taeru didn’t really belong in the family.  He would
never have accepted rule of Cathalar—and that meant that if he wanted to go, he
should be able to go.  Therefore, even though Veyron protested until the very
last, the king could not keep his son from leaving. 

Aela couldn’t help thinking that if their mother had still
been alive; she would have been able to keep Taeru within Cathalar.  She deeply
wished that their mother was still with them, and that Taeru was.  “I just wish
we could hear once that he was alright,” she said softly.

“But if anyone knew where Taeru was, then they would pester
him.  Taeru is probably making very certain that he is not discovered,” Ryo
answered.  Ryo was very practiced at easing Aela’s mind about Taeru.

But Ryo would never compare to Taeru, in any regard, not to
Aela.  Taeru had been brave, chivalrous and had been there for Aela in every
moment of every sun’s cycle.  Even though she had only been nine when he left,
she had known that Taeru was more a man than their father would ever be—and
that anything he did would be graced with a sort of magic.  She loved her
brother more than the world. 

Aela let out a sigh.  “The inconsiderate imbecile,” she
hissed.  She didn’t bother continuing, mostly because insulting Taeru was very
difficult for her—and always had been.  “Leave me, Ryo.  I think I’m going to
take a spontaneous bath.”

Her older brother didn’t seem to believe this, but there was
not much he could say.  If he had tried to call her a liar, she would simply
have gone to take the bath.  He let out a sigh and then whisked himself out the
door without another word. 

As soon as Ryo was gone, Aela made sure the door was shut
and locked and immediately began undressing.  She moved to her closet once she
wore only her undergarments and sifted through her silly dresses until she
reached the back.  There she found her black tights and red brown tunic.  She
quickly eased the clothes on and then stepped into a pair of worn brown boots. 

Disguising herself wasn’t necessary, as there was no reason
she shouldn’t be in Lower Town, but she didn’t like flaunting her royalty
around all the commoners.  Royalty rarely went into Lower Town, and when they
did, the villagers tended to do their best to ignore them unless absolutely
necessary. 

She pulled her hair into a quick braid, slipped on her cloak
and slipped out the window and onto the roof of one of the outhouses.  The
process was easy—taught to her by Taeru when she was just a little girl.  It
had been some time since she had slipped into Lower Town to forget about her
problems, but on this sun, she intended to do just that.

The path she took to Lower Town was simple.  The stone path
between the high buildings of Upper Town was lovely, with stone buildings, each
with colored roofs.  She had to pass through the market place to get to Lower
Town gate, and there were plenty of vendors bustling about—working to sell
their wares on tables. 

Though Taeru had never been a fan of informing the guards
where they were going, she’d found that it was much easier to just tell them so
that they would open the gate—that way she didn’t need to climb.  With a quick
nod, they opened the gates for her and she was in Lower Town.  Lower Town was
much different from Upper.  For starters, Lower Town residents deemed the
colors of Upper Town a waste, and so everything was mostly brown.

The buildings were lower, and the roofs were done with black
thatching.  The whole place was minimalistic, and Aela liked it here.  That
wasn’t to say that she didn’t enjoy dressing up every now and then, but
something about the simplistic nature of the Lower Town was nice.  As she
wandered the street, watching the baker push his bread cart, she heard snippets
of the town gossip.  Somehow, Lower Town always seemed to know what had gone on
in court, even with the meetings were supposedly secret.

Finally, she found her target, which was a worn old stand that
held nothing but books.  The first time she’d come here with Taeru had been on
a quest to find a book that had been outlawed for being written by a Telandus
writer.  That was back when the first Intolerance Laws had been passed. 
Relations had gotten progressively worse between Telandus and Cathalar, and
once they reached a certain point, Veyron had outlawed visitors, and then any
goods from Telandus.

But Aela had wanted the book.  She had heard of it from one
of her friends shortly before the laws were passed, and Taeru was never one to
let Aela want for anything.  So that was the first time her brother had brought
her with him to Lower Town.  She had been so fascinated with the differences
that while Taeru was bargaining for the book—she hadn’t even noticed.  She
could still see the scene in her mind as he turned and handed her the book,
with that amused smile on his face—with dimples that Aela wished fervently that
she had gotten.  His entire face lit up when he smiled, and the happiness was
contagious.

This was why she didn’t come to Lower Town much anymore. 
Every little piece of this place reminded her of her brother.  There were
ghosts of him riddled through Lower Town, and after he’d left, she had realized
that she couldn’t even enjoy her walks much anymore.  The heartache his absence
called had eased with time, but it would never be gone entirely. 

The old man at the stall lit up when he saw her approach. 
“Ah, bonjour, Aela!  I haven’t seen you in a long while.”  His voice was
cheerful, and his eyes were glistening with amusement at her return.

Aela was certain that at least a few moon phases had passed
since she’d come to Lower Town, and even longer since she’d come to the bookstall. 
“I know, monsieur,” she answered briefly.  “Things have gotten hectic up in
Upper Town, I’m sure you’ve heard.”

The man nodded solemnly.  “You must be bored out of your
mind in the countless hours Lord Veyron makes you stay in court,” the man said,
as if reading her mind.  She knew that shouldn’t be one of her primary concerns
with a war looming on the horizon, but she couldn’t seem to entertain the
thought that Telandus and Cathalar would ever make good on their empty threats.

“I am,” she said.  “Any new books?”  This was her way of
asking him if he had anything that she would be unable to find in Upper Town because
if the book could be found in Upper Town, then Aela had almost surely read it.

The man looked disappointed, though.  “Unfortunately not, my
dear.  I’ve gotten a few memoirs, but I’m sure that none of them would interest
y—” Then he lit up at once and held up a finger.  “Oh wait, I believe I might
have something you would be interested in after all.”

Aela grinned fiendishly.  She needed a book to escape to;
somewhere she could pretend she lived for a while.  She could be some daring hero
and not some poor girl too cowardly to follow the one person she missed most
dearly.