Rohvim #1: Metal and Flesh (34 page)

And he charged Aeden, sword flashing. Aeden screamed at every stroke, for Priam unloaded every bit of rohva energy he possessed into the blows. The energy jumped up Aeden’s arm, flashing across his body and head, reeling his mind, making him dizzy and nauseous. At the last stroke, Aeden flew backward, hitting the ground in a daze. He lay there, looking up at the stars, though realizing moments later that it was not night yet and the stars were his own. The world slowly stopped spinning, and after a few minutes he got to his feet.

Priam was gone, escaped around the hill and into the forest, his armed escort also nowhere in sight. He stumbled back in the direction of the camp, still reeling with rage and seething with hatred for his new enemy. He stopped. Up ahead he saw a woman, kneeled and bent over another figure lying on the ground. He dropped his sword and ran again, ignoring the pain and dizziness.

“No.” He mumbled.

He neared the pair, mumbling again, “No.”

He looked down. Rupert’s left arm lay several feet away. Blood streamed from his head and chest. His eyes were halfway open, but unmoving. One of Betha’s hands rested on his head, and the other held a rag over the most grievous wound on his chest. Aeden collapsed next to them, and, after holding his hand, hovering, over Rupert’s pale head for a moment, placed it next to Betha’s. He entered.

He looked around. A forest surrounded the hill he stood on, and he recognized it as the hill where Rupert had given him his lesson on rohva dueling. Looking about himself, he saw Betha nearby, a whirlwind of motion at Rupert’s wall. He approached and looked at it. Nearly every light flashed, blaring red.
What do we do?
he said.

Betha didn’t slow down, but answered,
I don’t know. Try to stop the bleeding with the blood controls.
He looked wildly around, found the right sections, and started cranking dials and knobs, looking at the indicators above them. One light turned orange. They worked furiously, some lights turning to orange, some back to red, one eventually got to yellow. 

Rupert appeared beside them, very agitated, and he convulsed, clutching his throat.
Rupert!
Aeden called, looking up from his work. Tears streamed from Rupert’s face, a look of supreme fear overcoming him. He shook his head, again and again, clenching and unclenching a fist while using his other hand to alternately hold his mouth or his throat. He trembled. Aeden rushed to him, calling his name again, but Rupert did not reply, except by continuing to shake his head. Aeden grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. His fearful eyes. Rupert blinked rapidly. Aeden placed his finger on Rupert’s forehead. He didn’t know how his friend had strengthened him before with the same act, but he concentrated on Rupert, pouring into him all the goodwill and strength and love and peace that he possessed.

Rupert breathed in deeply, and released his throat. He trembled, but less now. He stood before Aeden, and nodded once, smiled a small smile, and briefly touched Aeden’s hand which was still placed on his shoulder. Then he straightened his posture and turned, walking slowly away. He faded, gradually disappearing as he descended the hill into the shadows.

Shortly, the master healer, Lady Ellen, Gregory, and Edwin appeared. They strode over to the wall. The master healer threw Aeden aside, yelling,
Out of my way!
The four joined Betha, and the five, as a blaze of quickened lightning, worked the controls of Rupert’s body. Aeden watched, and then, not content to watch another loved one pass out of his reach, he forced himself to look away, and walked down the wall to his left.

He saw motion on the section next to him and looked up, hoping to see his friend again, but instead saw the wall of memories. In one, he saw himself, smiling and talking into the screen, his arm extended to Rupert’s shoulder. In the next he saw the assembly in the council chambers that sent the company on its quest. He continued walking, seeing Rupert’s life play out before him in snippets and silent episodes. As he approached the end, he saw Rupert’s childhood. He saw his mother and father, who looked very poorly dressed, working hard in a field. He saw brothers and sisters, gathered around the table, eating a small meal of cooked grain and eggs.

He saw another boy, richly dressed, playing with Rupert in the street. This boy, a nobleman’s child from the looks of him, appeared in many of the memories from this point on. The two went everywhere together, whenever Rupert was not hard at work. He saw pranks. He saw laughter. He saw girls. Rupert, now an early teenager, walked with the friend down the street, calling out to a group of girls in front of them.

In the next, he watched, disturbed, as Rupert was beaten down by another group of boys and fell behind a thatched brick building, bleeding and crying. Aeden stopped at this one. He leaned forward and whispered, “You poor kid…” He touched the glass screen where Rupert still sobbed in pain. A flood of emotion washed over Aeden. Pain and doubt and hurt and loneliness overwhelmed him.

He pulled his hand away and the feelings subsided, but the pity remained. Aeden replaced his hand and the overwhelming feelings returned, cutting him to the core. He watched as the noble friend passed by, looking at the pitiful sight of his friend and continued on, conversing with his other noble friends. Loneliness and an urgent desire for compassion and belonging surged out of the screen and into his chest.

The scene changed: he observed the same friend looking on, unconcerned as Rupert and his family are turned out of their home by servants of the nobleman who owned their house. Aeden felt the rage building inside him at the other noble boy. He looked at the image of Rupert and realized the feelings were his own. Rupert’s own face betrayed no hatred, only sadness, and cold feelings of humiliation and fear emanated from the screen through his hand.

Eventually, images of the noble boy ceased, and the society replaced him. He saw Betha, and Darla, and Frederick, and several others he recognized from the grove outside of Ramath. The cold, hopeless feelings subsided, replaced by happier ones, but still dominated by trepidation and apprehension and fear. He turned away.

Frederick appeared next to him.
Come on out, Aeden. There’s nothing you can do here.
Aeden nodded silently, and looked out at the flickering landscape spread before him. Below the hill, a golden field caught the slanted rays of the setting sun. The scene flickered more, some parts of the view replaced by darkness. He left.

Opening his eyes, he saw most of the company still huddled around the bloody boy. One by one, they opened their eyes, and looked down. Betha, last of all, opened her eyes and wept. Her tears streamed down and splashed on Rupert’s head, mixing with the blood which still oozed thick. Aeden, thinking of the legends from the Chronicles of fair maidens reviving their lost loves with their tears, hoped beyond his strength of similar divine grace for his friend.

He called out in his mind, pleading,
Great Creator. Have mercy on this, thy son.
The figure in the spreading pool quickened his breaths. Betha began to hum softly, gently cradling the bleeding head, the seraphic sound floating down to rest upon the fluttering body. Frederick leaned his head on Darla’s shoulder, gazing red-eyed down at his friend. Stuart collapsed. Aeden withdrew his hand from the white head and placed it on the boy’s bloody shoulder.

Rupert took one last shallow breath and lay still.

Priam slowed his run when he saw that Aeden no longer chased him. He found part of the group of soldiers that accompanied him on his journey from the warlord’s stronghold and ordered them to come return with him. They walked quickly, covering several miles every hour, travelling through the night. At last, late the next morning he arrived at the compound and dismissed the soldiers to go rest. Without saying a word or even looking at him they slowly walked away, leaving him to enter the stronghold and deliver the prize to Yoruth.

He had done well, he knew. He had allowed several of the company to see his expressionless face before he brought his hands together and shocked them all to oblivion. He had not planned on Aeden, Betha, and Rupert being gone, though. That had disrupted his plans a bit, but he derived no small amount of pleasure from beating Aeden in a duel.

“Royal prig probably didn’t see that coming …” he mumbled to himself as he climbed the stairs to Yoruth’s chamber. He entered the door and placed the object on the table.

“Well done, my boy. I trust you had no trouble?”

“None.” He replied, “I even managed to teach the royal brat a lesson in rohva dueling.”

Yoruth patted his arm, held up the mechanical toy, and continued, “Good. Now, we must be leaving soon. If you made it here as fast as you did, then they are likely not far behind—they may arrive as early as tomorrow. Let us make haste now for Elbeth. We have work to do.”

“Do you think Shiavo will put up a good fight against them? He looks quite capable. And that lieutenant of his appears yet more worthy an opponent, even for master Arturo.”

“No. We shall not even tell them of your friends’ approach. I truly detest both of them—the atrocities they’ve committed. Truly awful. No, Priam, they’ve been useful associates for now, but they’ve served their purpose. And besides, I would much rather have you at my side as my counselor and confidant in the days ahead. Soon, when the world changes, you will have a very high place within it indeed.”

Priam nodded, “Good. Even though they taught the nobility a lesson in Elbeth, a lot of good people died there, and I’m glad they’ll pay. Are we leaving right now?”

Yoruth stood up and pulled Priam towards the door, “The sooner the better. Come. I need to go collect one of our guests before we leave.” They exited the room and retrieved their travelling companion—Priam often glancing back nervously to mark her silent movement, and after gathering provisions to travel back to the south they approached the entrance of the compound. Shiavo’s lieutenant stood at the front door, and stood aside as the three approached.

“See that none follow us.” Yoruth commanded the man, and as they left, placed a hand briefly on the lieutenant’s head.

And when they come, kill them all. Except for the nobleman’s son—We may need him.

Aeden, Frederick, and Stuart traded turns digging a shallow hole in the ground with Gregory’s spade. The mission urged them on, so they dug but two feet while the elder members gathered large stones to pile over the mounded earth. They had sat around their fallen comrade for close to an hour, either weeping or in shocked silence, before they managed to summon the heart to stand.

Aeden rested while Frederick took a turn, and looked over at Betha and Darla. Betha was preparing Rupert’s body for burial, cleaning off the blood, straightening his clothes, going through his personal belongs to leave appropriate items in the grave with him. Darla looked on, not quite knowing what to do. Eventually she just got up and started a fire for the night—they assumed the enemy knew where they were already.

The grave prepared, the men slowly bore the small, unbelievable light body into the air, and laid it lovingly down in the hole. Betha knelt now beside him in the hole and attended to some final details. She laid his sword on his chest, pointing to his feet. She covered most of him with his blanket, leaving his peaceful white face exposed to the air. Finally she removed a necklace that Rupert always wore underneath his shirt. Aeden had not seen it before. Just a small, simple locket on a thin string. She put this in a pouch on her waist, and climbed out of the hole.

They stood, silent, in a circle around the open grave. The grey evening descended upon them, and a cool mist blew from the ocean a hundred miles away. The master healer announced, “Let us proceed.” And he along with the others bent down.

Aeden looked on in confusion, and Betha noticing him said, “Aeden, you’ve never buried a person who knew their true nature, have you?” He shook his head. “Come down here. Put a hand on each of your neighbors’ heads, and at the head of the circle the master healer will place both of his on Rupert’s head. When the circle is complete, enter Rupert’s head. It’s hard to explain, but you will jump from mind to mind until you reach the master healer’s mind and from there will find Rupert’s.”

Aeden protested, “But he’s dead. Can we enter his mind?”

“His body is dead. His mind is … mostly gone. There is still some small life in it, but it too will die within a few hours. While we still can, we have the tradition of gathering the dead’s loved ones, and entering the mind one last time to say goodbye.”

“Is he still … in … there? I mean, will we see him?”

Betha put out her hand to Aeden’s head, “Come and see.”

Hesitating, Aeden placed his hands on Betha’s and Stuart’s heads. And then it struck him. The ritual he had performed all his life in ignorance now, finally, had context. He looked around at the others completing the same motion, and when the master healer, sitting on the edge of the hole, had placed his upon the pale boy’s head, Aeden concentrated and tried to enter Rupert’s mind. He rushed forward simultaneously entering Betha’s and Stuart’s minds, seeing and feeling them as he passed through before entering their neighbors’, and so on, until he reached Rupert.

He looked around. It was the same mountain that Betha prepared for them during his first rohva duel with Rupert. The stream splashed down the rocks from some unknown height above them, flowing past before making its way to an assortment of lakes below. Instead of the amphitheater, however, stood the healer’s hall from Ramath, gleaming white in the brilliant sun. They climbed its steps and passed through the door, entering the arched hall. He opened his real eyes and simultaneously saw the circle he was a part of, a view that now stirred him as it never had before, a sight that that spoke sacred things to his soul. While once a mundane part of the communal service, the ritual now seemed ancient and sublime, and he felt intimately connected with his friends: they had become one in the sight of his Creator, as Priest Anthony had told him.