The Children of the White Lions: Volume 02 - Prophecy (40 page)

Nikalys could not tell if the question was honest or a trial of sorts. After a moment, he realized he did not care what it was. His answer would be the same.

“They’ll follow me, my Lady, but that does not mean I can lead them. Not yet. The men need someone with experience at their head, something I am sorely lacking. Commander Aiden should stay here, which means Sergeant Trell is the best choice. Moreover, I like the man.”

Lady Vivienne peered at him with her cool, green eyes long enough that he felt vaguely uncomfortable. Eventually, she turned to stare up at Broedi and conceded, “You were right. They deserve more of a chance than I have given.”

Pride shone from beneath the hillman’s stoic expression.

“Yes, my Lady. They do.”

Scanning the room, Lady Vivienne asked, “Does anyone have any concerns about Nikalys’ plan?”

Startled by her choice of words, Nikalys said, “Plan? No, those were merely my thoughts. There is not much of a plan there.”

Lady Vivienne said firmly, “There’s more than you think, young man. Details can be looked after, but your reasoning is sound.” Looking around the room, she called, “Are there any objections?” When there were none, Lady Vivienne peered up at Broedi.

“Did Nelnora share anything else with you?”

Broedi shook his head once.

“Nothing. Only details on where we can find Wren.”

In a rustle of wool and silk, Lady Vivienne stood from her chair and announced, “Then it is settled. Nikalys and Nundle, I suggest that you both go and pack. Captain Scrag will want to sail at high tide.” She slipped a parchment from beneath a stack on the corner of her desk, stared at it a moment, and then said, “Which appears to be dawn tomorrow. Be ready.”

Looking up, Nikalys asked, “Tomorrow?” That seemed incredibly soon.

“We cannot delay,” rumbled Broedi.

Nikalys nodded his understanding.

“No, I suppose not.”

Lady Vivienne said, “If there is nothing else, then? I would like to go speak with the commander.” Her tone was clear. They were being dismissed.

Nikalys pushed himself from his chair—careful not to catch his scabbard—and began to walk to the double doors, following behind Jak and Kenders. Zecus and Joshmuel exited first with heads close together, whispering.

Broedi’s deep voice rumbled from behind, “Nikalys?”

Turning around, Nikalys saw Nundle, Tobias, and Lady Vivienne approaching the door. Broedi and Khin were standing close to one another near the desk. The hillman’s gaze was fixed on Nikalys.

“When you leave, close the door behind you.”

Lady Vivienne’s quick pace faltered. Halting, she looked back to regard the hillman.

“You are staying?”

Eyeing the baroness, Broedi asked politely, “May we use your offices for a few moments, my Lady?”

With strained graciousness, Lady Vivienne replied, “Of course, it is no trouble.” She resumed her exit, sweeping past Nikalys, a tight, perturbed expression engraved on her face. Nundle had to nearly jump out of her path to avoid being knocked over.

Tobias stood halfway between the double doors and the baroness’ desk. His tone slow and deliberate, he asked, “Would you like me to stay?”

The hillman locked eyes with the tomble and shook his head.

“I only mean to discuss an appropriate set of lessons for Kenders while we are gone. Please take the time to familiarize yourself with the enclave. I am sure Nundle would be happy to show you around.”

Tobias held Broedi’s gaze for a long enough moment that Nikalys was aware of the fire popping again. Glancing between the two White Lions, Nikalys frowned. Something was off here.

Eventually, the tomble spoke.

“If you think it best.”

Tobias hobbled past Nikalys and into the hall. Nundle followed.

Giving the two remaining figures in the offices one last curious look, Nikalys drew the doors closed with a soft thud. Peering down at Nundle and Tobias, he asked, “What was that about?”

Nundle began to speak, “There’s some—”

Tobias raised a hand swiftly and nodded at the two guards standing beside the door. Nundle immediately closed his mouth. Motioning for them to follow him, Tobias lurched down the empty, torch-lit hallway. Jak and Kenders were already gone, as were Zecus and Joshmuel.

Upon reaching a crossing of halls, Tobias suddenly stopped and asked, “Why am I leading? I have no idea where I’m going.” He looked back to Nundle. “Take us someplace where Broedi’s ears can’t hear us.”

Nundle nodded and stepped past Tobias, choosing a windy, random path through the halls. After a few twists and turns, he stopped in the middle of a dim, unoccupied hallway.

“Is this far enough?”

Tobias nodded.

“Quite.”

Nikalys stared between the two tombles, his curiosity burning, and asked, “Why the secrecy?”

After checking up and down the hall to ensure they were alone, Tobias looked at Nikalys and whispered, “Broedi lied.”

Nikalys blinked in surprises.

“Pardon? He…he lied? How so?”

Leaning on his walking stick, Tobias said, “He is
not
sharing everything.”

“And stones don’t float,” stated Nikalys flatly. “He always holds things closely.”

Nundle shook his head.

“That is not what I mean. His time with Nelnora was much different than ours.”

Nodding, Nikalys said impatiently, “Which he said himself. What is the issue?”

Tobias peered up at Nikalys with pensive eyes.

“I was in the chamber for but a handful of minutes.”

Nundle added, “My time was even shorter.”

Nikalys shrugged his shoulders.

“And?”

Tobias cocked an eyebrow, leaned forward, resting on his walking stick, and said, “Broedi was inside long enough that Tenerva brought us tea.” His eyes narrowed. “Twice.”

“Why so long?” asked Nikalys, suddenly surprised. “What did they talk about?”

“I asked,” said Tobias. “And he begged off answering me.”

“Me, too,” added Nundle. Tiny flames danced in the tomble’s green eyes, reflecting the few torches burning in the hall.

Tobias stared down the hall, back in the direction from which they had come, a deep frown on his face.

“Something happened in that chamber that Broedi is hiding from us.”

16
^th
of the Turn of Luraana, 4999

Sabine reached the top of the stairwell, stopped, and peered down the dark hallway. Two oak doors, both recessed in the stone wall, waited on the left. Three torches in rusted sconces lined the right side of the passageway. She eyed the first door worriedly, half-expecting it to creak open.

She grasped both sides of her dress and lifted gently, ensuring that the hemmed bottom was not touching the stone floor. For at least the tenth time since leaving her room, she considered turning around, hurrying down the stairs, through the halls, and back to the bed she shared with Helene.

She bit her lip and shook her head. Things needed to be said. And tonight was her last chance to say them.

“Hells.”

The whispered curse slipped out before she could stop it. It seemed as loud as stone cracking stone to her ears.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped from the wintry stairwell into the hallway. She passed the first door carefully, glancing at it briefly. She lingered for a moment, nearly stretching out an arm to knock. Instead, she turned her head forward and continued until she reached the end of the hall. Turning to face the second door, she stared at the wood grains running through the oak in the dim torchlight. She hesitated.

A light breeze tickled her toes, drifting from under the bottom of the door and chilling her feet. She had worn her house sandals in order to move quietly, which had left her toes icy and exposed.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she raised her hand and lightly tapped the door three times with her knuckles, barely making a sound.

Suddenly, a light scuffling of boots on stone echoed from the stairwell back down the hall. She whipped her head, her heart nearly leaping from her chest, and peered down the hall.

The stairwell was brightening. Someone was coming.

Reaching up with her fist clenched tight, she knocked again, louder this time.

She waited, staring down the hall with wide eyes. She was moments from rapping on the door one more time when it blessedly opened. Swiveling her head, she stared up into Nikalys’ sleepy yet startled face. A patch of hair on the top of his head stuck out awkwardly.

Rubbing his half-shut eyes, he mumbled groggily, “Sabine?”

Placing her left index finger on his lips, she gently shoved her right hand into his chest, driving him backwards into his room. Nikalys’ eyes widened as he backpedaled, but he did not resist. The moment she was inside, Sabine spun around and closed the door quickly, ensuring that wood met stone as gently and quietly as possible. The room plunged into moonlit darkness. Pressing an ear to the door, she listened to see if anyone was reacting to her presence in the hall.

Behind her, Nikalys said, “What is—”

Without turning around, she held up a hand and whispered, “Hush!”

Nikalys obeyed.

For the next minute, Sabine listened as the servant shuffled down the hall, humming a soft tune she did not recognize. From sound alone, she determined the man was replacing the torches. When the footsteps retreated down the hall, back to the stairwell, her shoulders slumped.

“Oh, bless the Gods.”

“What was that about?” whispered Nikalys. “Better yet, why are you here?”

Sabine took in a tiny breath and rotated in place. Her eyes had adjusted to the gloomy, almost ethereal room. The shadows were midnight blue or black, every object lit up, a ghostly white.

Nikalys stood a few paces from her, perched in a pool of moonlight streaming through the room’s single window. He wore a light-colored, long-sleeved knit shirt and loose fitting, matching pants that draped to cover the tops of his bare feet. He was shuffling from foot to foot, doing an almost impromptu dance. His soles slapped on the chilly, stone floor. She supposed it was to keep warm, but it looked absurd.

“I take it your feet are cold?”

Nikalys grinned and nodded, saying, “Quite.” Motioning behind him, he asked, “Do you mind?”

She glanced past him and eyed his bed, his heavy blankets tossed aside. For a moment, she thought he was suggesting something untoward. The shock must have reached her face, for when she looked back at Nikalys his eyes were wide.

He began to quickly stammer in a hushed voice, “Gods, no! I didn’t mean…I was just—” Furiously pointing to the floor by the bed, he whispered, “Boots. I meant I want my boots.”

She stared back to the bed and saw a pair of leather boots lying on the floor.

“Please, yes, of course.”

She was glad it was dark. It would be harder for him to see her blushing.

As he hurried over to his bed, sat down, and began to pull on his boots, Sabine shook her head. This was not how she wanted things to start at all.

Sabine stepped lightly, crossing the small room and inspecting its contents as she went. This was the first time she had been here and she was struck by how bare the room was.

“Where are all of your things?”

Shoving his right foot into the second leather boot with a soft thump, he nodded his head in the direction of the door.

“There. Ready to go to the harbor in the morning.”

Sabine turned and spotted a large pile of sacks sitting to the right of the door. It appeared as if he were planning on never coming back.

“Goodness, did you pack your entire life in there?”

She continued to stare at the pile of sacks as if they were terribly interesting, waiting for a response. She could feel his eyes on her.

“Sabine, why are you here?”

She drew in a short, quick breath, fortifying herself, and swiveled back to stare at Nikalys. He was still sitting on the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, a blanket now draped around his shoulders.

Forcing herself to hold his gaze, she said, “Kenders told me you were leaving tomorrow.”

He nodded once.

“I am.”

A handful of thudding heartbeats passed.

“Were you just going to leave without saying farewell? Helene would be crushed.”

A faint smile touched his lips and he dropped his head. “I wanted to stop by and say something this evening, but…” Trailing off, he gripped his hands together and squeezed tight. “I can stop by in the morning before I leave. It’ll be early, though. High tide is at dawn.”

“That’s fine. I’ll wake her.”

Nikalys nodded.

“Then I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

She smiled as if everything was settled.

A long, awkward silence stretched out, a faint whistling of air the only thing that filled it.

She wondered if she should leave now, as though the entire reason for her visit was a gentle reminder to say goodbye to Helene when it was nothing more than pretense. Instead, she took a few quick steps toward the window and stared outside.

A thin fog coated the world in a translucent haze that glowed in the moonlight. Peering through the mist, she could only make out the tops of a few bare-branched treetops along the bluff. She spotted the remains of a large nest, its twigs and straw still bunched together in a crook between branch and trunk. The faint sounds of waves crashing on the rocky shore drifted through the night.

The scene was serene and peaceful, nothing like the strange, confusing storm of emotions raging inside her. Her chest felt tight.

She shivered, defenseless against the nighttime chill.

“Gods, it’s cold up here.”

She heard Nikalys rise from the bed and approach. She kept her eyes straight, though, suddenly unsure why she had come. This felt more wrong than right.

He stopped behind her and draped a heavy wool blanket over her shoulders. She wrapped her fingers around the rough fabric, pulled it tight around her, and murmured, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

His hands lingered on her shoulders for a moment before withdrawing.

Nikalys whispered, “The moons look rather ominous, don’t they?”