Amáne of Teravinea - The Chosen One (The Teravinea Series Book 1) (26 page)

BOOK: Amáne of Teravinea - The Chosen One (The Teravinea Series Book 1)
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When I awoke, darkness had fallen. I had missed the sunset. There was no sign of the Healer or Ansel. I whispered “Sitara” to light the shields.

“Do you feel like fishing for me, Eshshah? I should fix something for them to eat.”

Eshshah brought back a large fish, for which I sang a song of thanks for its life. I prepared the fish and some potatoes in the local Dorsal fashion and served up two plates. I hobbled with them down the corridor, balancing them in one hand while I used my walking stick with the other. Entering the library, I found the Healer asleep, slumped across her books and maps that were spread on the table. I didn’t disturb her but left her plate near her.

Limping my way to Ansel’s chamber, I softly called to him before I pushed the door open. I found him sprawled across his bed, but I knew he wasn’t sleeping.

“Ansel, I brought you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“But you have to eat something. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I said I’m not hungry,” he snapped.

“Fine. Then, just starve and wallow in your self pity.” I barked back as I slammed his plate on the small corner table — bits of potato escaped.

He sprung up to a sitting position and in barely restrained fury said, “Is that what you think I’m doing, Amáne? Feeling sorry for myself?”

“Well what do you call it?”

“You don’t get it. This is all my fault.”

“You had nothing to do with your parents joining their ancestors.”

He ignored my statement.

“You had it right when you said I was a stupid rich lord who got himself kidnapped.”

Now I definitely regretted making that statement. I opened my mouth to finally apologize for my careless words when he cut me off.

“Farvard’s death ... your injuries,” he waved his hand at my ankle, “... the ruin of all the riders’ strategies and planning, including you having to go back into the castle — which I am telling you now I will overrule — are all because of my selfish stupidity.”

Shocked at his statement of overruling our quest, I nonetheless decided not to address it at the moment. He was under enough pressure already, but this was one issue where he wasn’t going to get his way — I would fight it later, not now.

Instead, I agreed, “I guess I don’t get it. Why is all of this your fault? It wasn’t your choice to be abducted.” He heaved a heavy sigh. I could see he needed to share his story, so I lowered
myself slowly into one of the chairs at the table. With genuine concern, I coaxed, “Why don’t you just come sit over here and eat? Then you can tell me how it happened and why you think it’s your fault.”

He trudged to the chair opposite me and slumped into it. I pushed the plate toward him and he drew his knife to eat. Instead of spearing pieces to put in his mouth, he just stabbed at the fish and potatoes, scattering them around on the plate. I leaned back in my seat with my arms crossed, trying to be patient while he poked and mutilated his meal. Finally, I was done watching. I yanked the plate away from him.

“Are you going to talk to me or just play with your food all night?”

I barely finished my sentence when he raised his knife and brought it down in fury, burying the point deep in the table. I didn’t feel threatened, but I startled, then cringed at the abuse to the beautiful wood table.

We both watched as the knife quivered back and forth in smaller and smaller arcs until it was still. I looked up and met his eyes. I could see regret for his behavior, and behind that, pain. He pressed his lips together and said nothing.

I stayed silent and waited while he struggled for the right words. Ansel began his story. “My foster parents were good to me. How do you raise a prince that you have to hide from the world? To make sure he is brought up to understand his future role — should he ever get that opportunity — yet at the same time try to protect his identity? They took an impossible task and did the best they could.

“My foster father met his ancestors when I was eleven. If it weren’t for the dragon riders assigned to me, I think we would be
in a worse position than we are now. They had to work hard to keep me in line ... to teach me some discipline. I’m thankful my foster mother joined her husband last year so she wouldn’t have to suffer on my account any longer. I’m sure I played a role in both of them passing too soon.

“I didn’t go to classes to learn math, archery, our ballads or our history songs. My education progressed under private tutors. Malory came highly recommended, even though he was only three years older than I. His services were enlisted for me shortly before my foster mother went to rest. Unknown to her, he was a bad influence. I take full responsibility for my indiscretions,” he said fervently. “But that said, he convinced me quite often to sneak out with him to visit pubs and other unsavory places. Truthfully, it didn’t take much to persuade me. He merely pointed out what had been my mantra for a long time — that I was overly protected all of the time and not allowed to have any fun. I didn’t see a problem with his point of view, so I went along with his plans whenever he decided we should enjoy a night out.

“We were quite lucky never to have been caught, he was very clever. Looking back, I see now he was diabolical. He must have drugged the household on the nights we went out. We were never caught. I had dragon riders guarding me — and they don’t normally miss much. I, on the other hand, was too blind to see what he had been doing.

“Three nights ago Farvard heard of our plans for a night in the village. He forbade me to go, but I was used to getting my way. He finally relented, on the condition that he would go with us. Malory said we were going to meet up with some friends of his.

“We started the evening at a pub we were familiar with.
After a couple of ales I noticed Farvard suddenly looked ill. Malory’s friends assured me he just needed some fresh air. Two of them supported him on either side and we all left the pub. Instead of going out the front way, we went out the back into an alley.”

Ansel stopped, took in a deep uneven breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He swallowed hard and made an effort to gain control.

I wanted to let him know he didn’t have to finish, but I felt he needed to relate his story. I looked away and gave him some time to gather himself.

“When we got to a dark corner of the alley,” he pressed on, “the man on Farvard’s right drew his dagger. Before I knew what was happening, he slit Farvard’s throat and let his body fall, like a sack of manure.” The agony in Ansel’s face broke my heart. His green eyes locked on mine. “Farvard was my friend, Amáne. He did not deserve to die like that. He passed to his ancestors because of me — because of me!” He repeated. “Do you understand? I might as well have been the one wielding that blade.” His volume increased with each sentence.

After a pause, his voice thick with pain, “And then they tied me up and took me to Castle Teravinea — I didn’t even put up a fight. I couldn’t believe Farvard was gone.”

He pounded his fist on the table and then let his head fall forward on his arm. If it had been me in his position, I would be heaving with sobs. I guess that’s not a manly thing to do, so he just lay there breathing heavily. It was heart-wrenching to watch.

I was never very good at comforting, but I couldn’t just walk out and leave him there alone in his depression. Rising from my seat, I shuffled closer to him. I rested one hand on his shoulder and ran my fingers through his hair with my other hand. I remembered when I was little, my mother would stroke my hair to soothe me. It was the only thing I could think to do. I had no words that would
relieve his anguish. I also hummed Eshshah’s calming tune.

My foot throbbed, but I didn’t want to stop until I was sure he had calmed down. Finally, his breathing evened out and it sounded like he fell asleep. Careful to not make any noise, I grabbed my walking stick and silently slipped out of his chamber.

I heard Ansel whisper, “Thank you, Amáne,” as the door slid shut.

The next morning I was awakened before dawn by a scream — it was mine. Another of my nightmares had robbed me of my sleep. My heart raced as I bolted upright. All the heartache and unhappiness from the day before enclosed me in its gloom — I needed to get away. It felt like I had a weight on my chest and I couldn’t breathe.

“Eshshah, let’s go for a ride. I’m sure the Healer and Ansel are still sleeping. We can just go for a short flight.”

“Amáne, what about your foot? Do you think this is a wise decision? The Healer may not appreciate us sneaking out.”

“We won’t be sneaking. If she were awake, I would ask her, but I’m sure she’s not.” That sounded quite rational to me. I convinced Eshshah, and we silently made our way to the library to get the saddle. I chose the tournament saddle because the straps secured a rider at the calves. This made sense as it would not interfere with my damaged foot, yet would give it support.

I had a bit of difficulty in saddling her, but I finally
tightened the last strap. On our way to the entry, I stopped at my chambers where I found a large riding boot in the wardrobe that would fit over my bandages. I laced the boot and felt it braced my ankle sufficiently, after which we headed to the entrance cavern. I climbed up on Eshshah’s foreleg and managed to place my walking stick in the spear holder.

Trying to figure out how to hoist myself up into the saddle without putting weight on my injured ankle, I heard what sounded like a snicker behind me.

“Do you need me to push you up there again?”

I jerked my head around and found Ansel standing with crossed arms, leaning against the wall. He didn’t even bother to hide his amusement. I’d been so distracted that I didn’t hear him enter. Scowling at him, I tried to keep the red from rising in my face. I remembered how he had to push me into the saddle when we left the Castle Outpost.

“No thanks. I got it.” This gave me the motivation I needed, and I hurriedly pulled myself up. A slight stab of pain shot through my ankle, but luckily, my back was toward him and he didn’t see my grimace. “I didn’t think you were awake,” I said, buckling myself in.

“A girl screaming in terror is usually enough to wake me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I, er...”

“I would have come in to check on you, but I knew Eshshah was with you. She, I’m sure, was all you needed.”

He had a way of saying things to which I didn’t know how to respond, so all that came out of my mouth was, “Thank you anyway.”

“I’m surprised my aunt gave you permission to go on a flight.”

“Well ... she didn’t exactly. She’s sleeping.”

“You’re going to sneak out without telling her?”

“I’m not sneaking! I’ll explain it to her when I get back. My acquaintance, Kail, always says it is easier to ask for forgiveness after you do what you like, than it is to ask for permission beforehand.”

“Sneaky friend.”

“It’s not sneaky! Are you going to go tell your aunt now, to keep me from going?”

“My lips are sealed. Just be careful, Amáne. Take it slowly.”

“No, Ansel, we’re going to fly fast and take chances.” When I saw the alarm in his face, I added, “I’m teasing you. We’ll be careful. See you soon. Let’s go, Eshshah.”

She dove off the ledge and did a free fall until we neared the rocks below. At the last second she spread her wings and headed toward the water. My heart was in my throat, but I swallowed the whoop of joy that I would have let out.
I wonder what Ansel thought of that take off
.

There were no words to describe my feelings and closeness to Eshshah when we flew. It was pure joy — complete freedom. I took in the fresh ocean air as we skimmed the glassy sea. Her wing tips splashed the briny spray into my face. This was exactly what I needed. I hadn’t realized the pressure I’d been holding in until this glorious moment of complete euphoria.

Sailing smoothly through the air, we explored some of the surrounding islands. We weren’t going to chance a landing as I had no intention of getting down from the saddle. It would be too painful to have to get back up. We were perfectly content to just soar. Life didn’t get any better and for this moment I was thankful.

I had planned on just a short flight, but when I looked at the angle of the rising sun, to my dismay, it was apparent we were gone for more than an hour. We didn’t dare stay out any longer.

“Hurry, Eshshah, we need to get back.”

As we approached the outpost I could see from a distance that someone was waiting for us in the entry. I hoped it was Ansel. As we neared the cavern my stomach twisted — it was the Healer. She stood with her arms crossed. Her body language told me she was not pleased.

She retreated to the side as we glided in and landed. I gulped as I noted her angry countenance and realized I would have to face her wrath. Ansel sat sunken in on one of the couches looking like a child who had just been scolded. A wave of regret went through me as I realized I had gotten him in trouble as well.

“What do you think you’re doing, Amáne?” The Healer shot me a menacing look.

“I’m sorry, Healer. I needed a break and you were sleeping. I thought we would go on a short flight so I could clear my head. I had no intentions of staying out this long.”

BOOK: Amáne of Teravinea - The Chosen One (The Teravinea Series Book 1)
13.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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