The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice Page 3

  Concerned for his friend Edric clapped a hand over Callum’s shoulder, distracting him from Aiva’s vanishing form amongst the crowd. He felt selfish for having intended to pour his troubles on Callum upon their arrival. It was obvious he wasn’t the only one who suffered the burdens their lifestyle created. Right now Callum was more important. “Come,” he motioned with his head toward the hall before them. “We can take a short stroll before we have to be cleaned up for dinner. Unless you would rather go with Aiva.”

  “No,” Callum shook his head, dejected. All attempts at concealing his distress dissipated in that instant, staring at the empty space by his side where Aiva had been standing only moments ago. “It will be good for her to speak with the Queen. Her mother is possibly the only one capable of easing her mind. I fear I would only make matters worse.”

  Nodding politely to the courtiers along the way, Edric guided Callum down the hall toward the courtyard, anxious to be within the privacy the central gardens would provide. The fragrant paths had always been a place of solace for Edric. Many memories had been made within their lush ivy-covered walls, ingrained in Edric’s mind from so long ago. As children he and Callum used to chase Aiva around the flowers, wielding wooden swords and pretending to fight with powerful enemies seen only in their imaginations. Those days seemed so long ago now. In their rise to adulthood, opportunities to enjoy the gardens lessened, leaving them further apart, their visits growing more infrequent with every passing year. Oh, how he longed to have the carefree days of their childhood back! Everything had been so easy back then. There was no doubt in Edric’s mind that if their parents had been anyone else, things might still be so.

  A gentle floral scent wafted over Edric’s nostrils as they made their way through the courtyard doors. Protected from the strong breeze by the high walls, the gardens held a more noticeable warmth than had been felt while standing next to the arriving carriages. Colorful butterflies fluttered between flowers, peaceful in their lazy flight, adding a serene beauty to the vibrant colors of the petals.

  Unsure of how to begin he lowered his hand from Callum’s shoulder, clasping his fingers together behind his back, their pace slowed to take on a more casual stride. “So,” he coughed uncomfortably. “I should start by apologizing. Had I known there was trouble between the two of you, I never would have said anything.”

  “It isn’t like that, Edric,” Callum sighed, the tension slowly beginning to ease from his shoulders. “The trouble isn’t between Aiva and me. It’s between us and my chosen profession. In truth, I can’t blame her for feeling the way she does. At times I find myself despising it as well.”

  “How long has this been going on? You’ve never let on that there was an issue. Is this something new?”

  “New? No, not at all. It’s merely… getting worse.”

  Edric glanced at Callum, taking note of the distant look in his eyes before shifting his gaze toward the path once again. He was at a loss as to how to comfort his friend. Relationships weren’t exactly his strong suit. Advice was out of his grasp. “What sparked this change? I always thought the two of you were happy.”

  Callum chuckled miserably to himself. “It was easy enough to work through before. The first few years of our marriage were perfect. My time away from home was limited to no more than a few days. But as my responsibilities within the military increased, so did the frequency of my absence from her side. At first it was tolerable. A week here and there… Now, it has become common for me to be gone for weeks on end. I see my wife only a few days of every month and she spends her nights alone in our bed, staring at the stone walls. Regardless of how hard I try to comfort her, it’s next to impossible to ease the pain when I know I can only hold her for a single night before I leave her again. I’m quickly losing my ability to console her.”

  “Why do they call you away so much? Does your father not handle military business himself ?”

  “To an extent, yes. As Captain, it’s my duty to take some of those responsibilities. And ever since he began to consider retirement, he has begun to train me in preparation of taking over as General once he steps down.”

  “Surely he doesn’t intend to step down so soon. Could this training not wait?”

  “Edric, do you not realize how old my father is?” Callum kicked at a stray rock on the path with the tip of his boot. “He has served the royal family since he was twenty-five years old. My mother has been waiting for him to be free of the position longer than your parents have been alive. His four hundredth birthday is not far off. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “To begin preparations now seems premature. Have you tried talking to him? Explaining to him the damage this is causing your marriage? Honestly, I’m surprised you maintained your position as Captain. You are the Crown Prince of Tanispa. What are you going to do when you become King?”

  “If I wasn’t the Captain, what exactly would I be doing? Sitting around the palace in Escovul?”

  “Why not?” Edric challenged, halting in his steps to turn toward his friend. “It would appear that’s what is expected of my sister. At least if you were doing the same, she would have someone to talk to.”

  Inhaling a haggard breath, Callum averted his eyes. “It isn’t that simple, Edric.”

  “Of course it is. My mother was Captain long before you were bestowed the title. When she married my father and became Queen, the position was relinquished to grant her the time needed to focus on the responsibilities required of the royal family. I fail to see why you can’t do the same.”

  “Because your mother became Queen almost immediately upon her union with your father. I may be in line for the throne, but it will be a long time before your parents have need to step down. For now, I must continue my duties as I swore to do the day I was presented with the title of Captain. One which, if you recall, I dreamt of holding ever since I was a young boy. This has nothing to do with a lack of desire to do the work. It has everything to do with my desire to make my wife happy and my seeming inability to do so.”

  Filled with consternation Edric turned away, beginning his slow pace around the courtyard once again. He couldn’t argue Callum’s logic. The military had been his dream ever since Edric could remember. To ask him to give it up was unthinkable. “Why does she seem convinced that you are losing interest in her? Is this somehow related to your constant absence, or have you given her some reason to believe she is no longer capable of holding your interest?”

  “I go out of my way to make her see that she remains to be, and always will be, everything to me in this world,” Callum frowned. “When I’m home, I spend every waking moment with her. I tell her constantly how much I love her, but that’s not always enough. She deserves more than this. My hope is that in our time together this month, I can convince her that my time away does not dull my feelings for her. Then perhaps I can speak with my father about granting me a little more time at home in the future.”

  “I could speak with him if you like. If you think it would be more effective.” It was the least he could do. General Cadell might be more amenable to the request if Edric approached him. Callum would no doubt find the topic difficult to breach with his father. There would be less stress if he didn’t have to.

  “We will see,” Callum lowered his gaze to the path. “I’m worried about Aiva. She has been ill lately. The servants tell me she began to show signs of this ailment shortly after I last departed from Escovul. Since my return, she spends much of her time in bed, lacking the energy to rise. She barely eats, claiming a stomachache as the reason for her lack of appetite. If she doesn’t improve, I will have to inform my father that I can’t return to work at the end of the month.”

  Somehow Edric’s troubles began to feel miniscule in comparison to those of his friend. It was one thing for him to be miserable when he didn’t know what it was like to experience happiness the same way as his sister and her husband. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for them to suddenly find themselves slaves to the
responsibilities of their status.

  It left him unsettled to think of his sister being ill. Why would no one have sent word to her family? To picture her sitting in that palace alone, without anyone to care for her other than the servants – it frustrated him to no end. He should have been there. If he hadn’t been wallowing in self-pity, he could have been in a carriage on his way to Escovul to help watch over her in Callum’s absence. At least then he might have an idea of what ailed her. She was always so full of life and spirit. To imagine her unable to get out of bed… Such malaise had to stem from something more than simple depression.

  “Have you had her examined by a doctor?”

  “That is another issue I have come upon with her,” Callum exhaled heavily. “When I question her health, she of course tells me she is perfectly fine. My hope in staying here for a while is that her family will be able to convince her to see a doctor. The royal physicians in Sivaeria are the best doctors in all of Tanispa, if not Myatheira itself. Whatever affliction she suffers will not go unnoticed by them.”

  “If she is ill, our mother will be wise to it soon enough. And you know how my mother can be,” Edric smiled in spite of the worry which continued to plague him. “If the Queen says a physician will see Aiva, there will be no arguing. Even Aiva knows that.”

  “I’m counting on it,” Callum nodded. “She is otherwise too stubborn. Without your parents to assist me, Aiva would let herself waste away in that palace before she admitted to any complications of her health. I guess I thought some of that pride would go away as we got older. I couldn’t have been more incorrect.”

  Edric couldn’t help laughing, grateful to hear Callum’s voice mingling with his own in amusement at the thought. Aiva was the most tenacious woman Edric knew. To think of her softening with age was comical, no matter how dreary the mood. “You have come to the right place for help,” he smiled, patting his friend on the back reassuringly. “I wish you had come sooner. We might have been able to prevent some of this unneeded strain on you both. The gods know there is enough weight upon your shoulders with everything else. Your time should be spent enjoying one another’s company rather than having to reaffirm the emotions which are so obvious.”

  “Maybe so. All I know is that I intend to do whatever it takes to see her smile again. And not just with her lips. I miss the sparkle in her eye that I used to see there.” Callum rubbed at his temples. “My head aches. It will be nice to spend an evening with our families. We could all use a night to remember how pleasant life used to be before we had to go and get old.”

  “You aren’t old enough to complain about age,” Edric grinned, patting Callum on the back while directing him toward the palace doors. “The Consul and his wife should be arriving soon,” he stated lightly, hoping to ease the heaviness of the conversation. They would need to be more cheerful in front of the others if they had any hope of concealing the lingering worries from the observant eyes of their parents. “Let us go and wait for them in the foyer so we can see them to the dining hall. A little food might brighten our spirits. And you look like you could use a drink.”

  “Make that two,” Callum smiled, the crease of his features softening for the first time since his arrival. “This is my vacation, after all. Maybe by the end of the evening we will be able to put all this depressing talk behind us.

  Moving through the icy passages of the It’aryn home, Neomi’s senses were on alert for signs of the others who might be nearby. She didn’t want them to see where she was going. Her father would never approve. Daughter or not, she had no business meddling in the affairs of war. She refused to let that stop her. For months they suffered attacks by their enemy without a reason behind the assault. It couldn’t hurt their situation if she paid a visit to the man contained in the Chief ’s prison. The worst that could happen was a refusal to speak with her. It would leave them no better or worse off than they already were because of his silence.

  Her feet moved along the packed snow and ice of the floor, each step placed with perfect precision to avoid creating too much noise through the empty corridors. The prison was cut into the deepest section of the home, giving a sensation of entrapment, the thick cover of land and ice overhead creating a noticeable pressure. Eventually the walls began to shift into a hardened soil, permanently frozen from the frigid climate of Ethrysta. A trap door at the end of the hall led down into the prison corridor. Kneeling on the icy dirt Neomi shifted the locking mechanism, eyes darting in the direction she’d come to make sure no one had been alerted to her presence by the sound of the scraping metal. Satisfied with the silence she pulled the door upward, closing it behind her as she slipped through the opening onto the natural staircase cut into the ground, packed and solidified underfoot.

  Through the darkness Neomi directed her internal energy outward, illuminating her entire body with a soft glow that granted more clarity along her path. Lights weren’t necessary in this area of the home. If someone was unfortunate enough to find themselves in the Chief ’s prison, they weren’t granted any luxury that wasn’t absolutely required for survival. Minimal food and water to sustain them. What point was there in offering anything more? Resources were scarce enough. Far too valuable to waste on those who didn’t deserve them.

  Coming to a pause outside a large sturdy door constructed of stone, hinged deeply into the thick walls, she let her hand rest on the handle of the dagger at her waist. She was under no delusions as to the danger of what she was attempting. Over the time their prisoner had been contained in this cell, his health had no doubt recovered from the state of near-death he suffered at the time Neomi first discovered him on the battlefield. If he attempted to fight, she would have only her skill and combat prowess to defend against him. No one would hear a struggle from so deep within the home.

  Pressing her ear against the door she strained to hear anything from inside. It was silent, devoid of any sound other than the steady beat of her own heart, the dull thud pulsing through her head.

  Her fingers clutched at the heavy key, positioning it into the lock. Head held high she twisted it, listening to the quiet click that granted her access to the cell. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for since taking this man into custody. She refused to accept silence from him. He would speak of the reasons for the assault that left so many of their warriors dead in the wake. Although knowledge couldn’t restore life to those who had fallen, it would bring peace of mind to those who lived, knowing their men hadn’t died in vain for a cause no one understood.

  Inside the room a single torch burned from behind a protective cage. The light was faint, flickering with the dancing flame, nearly burned out, wavering precariously. At the far wall the familiar face of their prisoner turned to see who entered through the solid framework which constructed the doorway, making no attempt to mask his confusion to see Neomi there. His white hair was matted against his head, dirtied from the soil of the walls and floor, smudged across his pale features, their structure sharp and noticeable from under his skin. He was thin. Malnourished. An easy conquest if he considered fighting her. The sight of him boosted her confidence, helping to carry her further into the room, shutting the door to secure their privacy. “I hear you answer to the name Naphul. Is this true?”

  “You will get nothing from me,” the man croaked, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

  Neomi peered at him. Amused by his stubbornness. “Given that I already know the answer, it seems hardly worth the effort you make in refusing me. So, I will say it again. You are the man called Naphul?”

  He smirked, shifting his rope-bound hands to rest in front of his body. “I haven’t had the pleasure of your interrogation before. Did the men tire of me? Do they send you in hopes of seducing the answers out of me that they seek?”

  “Oh, I did not come here to seduce you,” she scoffed, disgusted by the thought. Traitors weren’t exactly her preferred taste in men. “It is my desire to merely speak with you. Will you humor me and listen to my questions?”r />
  “I will listen but I make no guarantees whether I will answer.”

  Nodding her head she began a slow pace back and forth across the room. She would have to be crafty in how she approached the matters of interest. Bait him with idle chatter to make him think she was there for personal reasons rather than business. He would be more likely to tell her information if he believed her distracted. “Do you recall much of the battle which landed you in confinement? Names or faces of the men you killed? Identities of your own people slain?”

  “What does that matter? I know you are the reason I am here.”

  “You know this how?”

  “I remember your face,” he lowered his head, gazing at her through his lashes, concealing his expression from view in the shadows. “You hit harder than most of the men in your tribe.”

  Neomi’s lips twitched into a brief, partial smile. This was unexpected. It would be more difficult to convince him to speak if he knew she was present at the battle. He would consider her an enemy. She would have to be more convincing if she was going to make this work. “I did not come here to discuss me,” she replied calmly, resuming her pace, not wanting to let on her uncertainty. “There was a man killed in that battle. You might know his name. A renowned fighter of the Komoa tribe, celebrated by all Ovatai. Mevuk Onepa’i. Do you recognize this name?”

  “Of course I know his name. He is the second-in-command to Chief Okivra’s son. A fine warrior.”

  “Yes, he was. That was before your people killed him.”

  “Many men were killed that day. What does this particular man have to do with me?”

  “He was my husband.” Neomi halted, turning sharply to stare at Naphul. “He is the reason I am here.”

  Naphul lifted his head, the glow of his eyes dimming in the darkness. “So you are the Lady Onepa’i?”