Chapter Forty- One
Ontophen
“Who is providing weapons to the rebels?” Calemir asked the three militants standing before him. He had just arrived in the city after two days of riding and had gone straight to the command post and summoned the three men. Focusing his eyes on the one standing near the table, he questioned. “Is it you Brasson?”
“No.” there was no hesitation in Brasson’s reply.
“Are you in a way involved with this betrayal?”
“I would kill myself than aid them,” Brasson said.
Truth. There was no prickle of fear or guilt on Calemir’s skin. Calemir shifted his attention to Síron, standing at the right side of Brasson. Calemir needed not to ask, Síron spoke first. “I swear on Faethurin it is not me.”
“Where are all these questions coming from? Is there a problem?” the third man, Eluon interjected. Calemir glanced at the brown-haired elf, with one hand casually poised on the sword by his side and carrying a perplexed expression.
“Why don’t you enlighten me Eluon on the matter,” Calemir said coolly as he stared at him. Alarm flashed in the man’s eyes for a miniscule second and was covered quickly by disconcertion. “I don’t know what it is your speaking of your Highness.”
“Yes, you know” Calemir insisted. For the last several weeks, he had been receiving reports about arms smuggling. Some weapons that were made in Amulg, a city that was responsible for arm mass production for most of the places in the kingdom, suddenly disappeared in the way of transportation to other towns. Men who were tasked with the duty of transporting the weapons had been ambushed. Among the victims, one had said the attackers were rebels, but he had also seen a man in armory concealed under a dark cloak. The witness was sure of it after Calemir had interrogated him if he was telling the truth. Further probing and digging, Calemir had found out there were indeed several men conspiring with the rebels. One of the traitor’s happened to be Eluon.
Eluon’s shook his head, a note of tremble in his voice as he denied. “I honestly do not know.”
“Then swear in on Faethurin you know nothing and have not been aiding the rebels” Calemir dared him. All four men knew the consequences of declaring a lie on Faethurin. Death. A slow agonizing death that could take days, weeks, months, years. You get the jest. And there was no cure, not even the strongest healer or elixir could restore him.
Síron and Barron turned their watchful eyes on their captain. Calemir waited patiently as Eluon swallowed, glanced at him and to the other two elves. “You cannot be serious to suggest I’m in league with those rebels?” he muttered the last word with uttermost disgust.
Calemir’s face turned serious, giving up on the charade. In a sudden burst of movement, Calemir had his grip tight on Eluon’s neck. “Why?” one word charged with disappointment and anger.
“Is that right?” Síron asked, shock evident his voice.
“Believe me” Eluon chocked, his hand on Calemir’s, trying to ease the vice grip he had on him.
“You’re lying” Brasson accused, his posture drawing tight.
“Are you planning an overthrow? Who else is involved?” Calemir demanded, his fingers squeezing harder until his captive gasped for air.
“Prince Calemir I heard you are here”, a familiar voice started in a pretentious tone before trailing to silence. “What is this?’’ Lord Ivlisar asked, taking in the scene.
“I am falsely accused” Eluon squeaked eagerly.
“Of what?”
“Of…” Eluon wheezed, his face red to the likes of a ripe tomato.
“Speak up” the lord reproached, not understanding a lick of what he had just mumbled. Clucking, the lord looked at Calemir who was yet to acknowledge his presence. “By gods, release him so he can speak properly.”
The lord’s eyes bored at the prince, burning an imaginary hole in his skull when the prince didn’t do what he had just said. Prince or not, he was high lord, for thousands of years over the nubile. He deserved to be respected. “The law demands a fair trial be given to the accused before being sentenced.”
“The law doesn’t apply to the one who has committed treason” Calemir retorted.
“The court of Ontophen is yet to determine his wrongdoings. By the law even you, your Highness cannot interfere until the man is proven guilty” the lord said smugly. Jaw ticking, Calemir uncurled his fingers from the traitor, taking a step back, he ordered the lord. “You are a high lord, a member of the court, ask him now if he is not aiding the rebels.”
The lord’s head jerked back slightly, stunned. “It cannot be true, captain Eluon would never do such a thing.” he dismissed.
“Then ask him, properly as it is done in court,” Calemir said, his patience running out. Calemir kept a keen eye on the lord as the lord’s eyes narrowed at Eluon. “Swear to Faethurin you are innocent from what prince Calemir accuses you of,” Calemir nearly rolled his eyes at the pettiness. “and you are not supporting the rebels in any way.”
Eluon’s eyes moved to his once close comrades Síron and Brasson then to the prince and the high lord.
“Move” Calemir brushed the lord aside roughly as he lunged for the traitor who already had his sword drawn and attacked the two other elves that had been hesitant, unsure whether to attack their friend or not. The two had been incapacitated by the truth they had seen his eyes which gave Eluon a perfect chance to pummel them on the head hard with the heavy butt of his sword that sent them down before pouncing on the prince. With his own unsheathed sword, Calemir fended the blows. The two fought, tearing the room down. AS the two went for each other’s throat, the lord made a dash for the door. Sooner than later, Calemir and Eluon followed behind, flying through the window and landing on the ground with a hard thud. The crash snagged a few bystanders.
Calemir stalked toward him and rested the tip of his sword at the hollow base of the elf’s neck. “Who else is involved? Where are you planning?” he hissed.
“Nuxvar” he offered when the tip sank lower.
“Where else?” the hard gleam in those green eyes stole his breath and left terror in his bone. “Fallkirk and Pirn” Eluon offered eagerly.
Calemir crouched and leaned closer that he was in the man’s face. “You truly are a traitor. And a coward” feeling his fear leach into his skin.
Cheek twitching angrily, Eluon spat. “It doesn’t matter if you kill me. He is here.”
“Who?”
“Who are you speaking of” Calemir demanded.
“You know who” the man’s mouth curled up.
Having had enough of him, Calemir sank the blade into the elf’s throat. Standing up, he rubbed the blood from the blade on the dying man’s clothes. Re-sheathing the sword, he marched to his horse. He was heading to Pirn, the only town he had missed. Finn and Izza were already covering Fallkirk and Nuxvar.
His heart plunged into heaviness, as the darkness he held at bay, whispered sweet nothing into his mind. He rode fiercely, leaving the city in the dust.
Nothing strange happened in the town as days went by. People continued with their daily life activities. Still, the guards patrolled day and night, Nara could feel the tension in the calm atmosphere carried by the folks. Izza left the house earlier than usual once she had done the chores. Her parting smiles and assuring words didn’t abate the eeriness in Nara’s gut especially during the night when she was alone in the house. She carefully bolted all the windows and doors of the house which could be used as an entrance before retiring for the night. She slept with one eye open, a dagger under her pillow and a sword resting on the table beside the bed.
“You surely know how to keep a man from his own house,” the voice had her jumping, shaking remnants of sleep that was still clogging her head. Nara turned and faced him. “Not successfully” her voice was still raspy from sleep. She gave Calemir a quick look over, his hair tossed in a disheveled but attractive manner. He was clothed in a comfortable blue short- sleeve tunic and trousers with his feet bare as he stood outside his room.
“Hmm, perhaps not enough locks,” he said.
“Yes, maybe” Nara absently muttered, combing her hair with her fingers. “I’m going to open the door for Izza.” It was early hours of the morning, a little dark outside. She had made a habit of unlocking the front door in the mornings so Izza could let herself in easily when she came.
“I already did that.” He told her.
Nara nodded. “I’m going back to bed.”
“Okay.”
Nara turned and got back into her room. She crawled on the bed and under the blanket, resting her head on the pillow. Was he alright? She thought. He looked fine just then. A little wave of relief washed over her.
He is fine. Eyelids shutting, Nara allowed herself to really sleep after whole five days. It wasn’t until much later, during lunch did she see him again. He sat across her as they both savored the meal quietly. “Can I ask you something?” Nara asked, breaking the silence.
“Go on.” He tore a piece of the bread and dipping it in a bowl of soup.
“How old are you?” It was certain the question caught him by surprise because he paused, his eyebrows lifting for a second. “A little over a thousand years,” he said, “I think one thousand and twelve hundred to be exact, I could be wrong” he shrugged.
Her face turned doubtful. “You don’t know your age?”
“Don’t give me that look” Calemir teased. “Counting each year would drive me insane. Gods, it would drive any elf crazy.” He drew his eyes to hers. “Time isn’t really significant to us and keeping a record of one’s age loses its appeal over the years.”
His words sounded almost like what Izza had told her, although he didn’t dive deep, she knew he meant the same as what Izza said.
“How old are you?” he turned the question back to her.
“Twenty-four.” She would be turning twenty-five in winter.
The bridge of his nose crinkled a little. “That makes me feel ancient.”
“You are very old if we aged you in in the span of human life,” she said.
“let’s not then” Calemir leaned back on the chair. Nara resumed eating.
“Tell me what is that you normally do on your typical day apart from talking to Izza and riding?” he asked.
“Not much.”
“What is it that you did back in Vessener when you were off duty?”
Nara lifted her head and looked at him, hint of curiosity resting in his eyes.
“I wasn’t off duty much” she began after a beat of thought. “but when I was, I went for rides” she finished lamely, not knowing what else to say. “It calms me” she added almost defensively when Calemir said nothing. He must be thinking she was boring, and no fun. Nara thought bitterly and held his gaze defiantly. She didn’t care what he thought of her. This was her, and she loved it. Despite her assumptions, there was no trace of judgement aimed at her on his face instead he asked, “Have you thought of going hunting again?”
Nara wiped her mouth with the serviette first, placing back on the table, she replied, “I had, but I decided against since I still not familiar with what kind of animals you do eat and don’t and which I can hunt and not.”
Calemir nodded. “That’s very considerate of you.”
She gave a light shrug. “I didn’t want to shock Izza with a dead rabbit.” He laughed. The contagious sound had her laughing too. Humor remained in his face even when they both recover into a peaceful silence. She watched as his mouth twisted, brows lightly furrowing before smoothing out. “Would you like to go tomorrow with me?”
“Where?”
“Hunting.”
Nara mulled it over for several seconds. It hadn’t sucked when she had gone with him the last time. Goodness, who was she lying to. It had been fun. Besides, she had nothing better to do.
“I would like that.”