Farmers & Mercenaries (39 page)

T
hat evening, after the crowd dispersed, Arderi Cor lay awake in his old bed long into the eve. He felt numb, empty.

I cannot believe Alant is dead.

Once the initial shock wore off, Arderi learned that the fielders had gathered that day out of anger and outrage over the events that had transpired since he left. They had forgone working the fields to meet at his parent’s public house.

I have never heard of that happening before.

When Arderi failed to return home on the eve of his Test, his folks had gone the next morn to the Magistra to inquire as to their son’s wellbeing. Originally, they thought the Shapers had kept Arderi. His mother told him the public house was a-buzz with excitement, for never had the Shaper’s Order kept a child the day of their Test.

“We assumed that you were even more gifted than your brother, and they wanted to start working with you as soon as they could.” His mother’s words renewed his feelings of despair over his failure.

What his father added made the feeling twice as bad. “Yet, when we arrived, we were told you had failed the Test and had left soon thereafter. They would not even let us see the Grand Master! After that, days passed and the Order remained silent. All requests for any information about you were met with sealed lips. Your Ma and I took our complaint to the Regent himself. This too led to nothing except more frustration. It was as if you had simply disappeared!”

Tanin took a deep breath. When he continued, Arderi could tell the memory of the events still haunted his father. “Later, with no other avenue to pursue, things slipped back to the normal day to day. Yet there was a hole inside me, like some infected wound that, instead of healing, grew larger with each passing day.” When Tanin said this, Arderi knew he would never forgive himself for what he had done to his parents. “After receiving the Crystal from Mocley… Well, if you had not returned this day, things might have become ugly.”

— —

Arderi had already drawn upon the Crystal three times since he retired to his room, desperate for some glimmer of hope.

A chance that something would change.

The image imprinted upon the Crystal was that of an old man, his gray beard flowing down his blue Shaper’s robes and ending near his waist. Golden starbursts adorned the cuffs of his sleeves marking him a Grand Master of the Order. The Sier looked genuinely sad. Several times during his message it seemed like the old Sier had fought back tears. He introduced himself as Sier Baroth Sarlimac, one of Alant’s instructors in Mocley. The Sier said he had just received word that day from the Elmorians who cared for Alant—he called them Elmorr’Antiens—and that due to the rigors of his training, Alant had succumbed and passed into the aftermore before his instructors could give him aid. The old Sier had gone to great length to convey his sympathy, informing the Cor family that not only was Alant one of the most gifted young men he had ever had the pleasure of meeting, he was one of the finest as well.

I will never get the opportunity to tell Alant what it was he felt in me—not that I really know what it is. Still, I feel that many answers await me in Mocley.

Sleep came to him only after many aurns, and when it did finally come, it was hardly restful since he tossed and turned through what little remained of the eve. He was awake long before any sunlight had a chance to pour through his glazed window.

Rising, Arderi gave himself a swift cleaning in the washbasin and dressed quickly. When he finished, he reached over and picked up Master Gartin’s sword. Cradling it in both hands, he took a moment to reflect.

I have changed. People here think it is odd that I wear it, yet to me, it is just as odd not to wear it.

Strapping the sword to his waist, he stepped back to the side of his bed and unwrapped his pack. It contained the collector and Dorochi, Clytus’ blade. He rubbed his hand over Dorochi’s hilt and it came alive at his touch. He felt the pulsing of the Crystal buried inside.

It reaches out to me!

Snatching his hand away, he rubbed his palm, trying to rub away the alien feeling that had emanated from the sword’s hilt. Insuring the padding around the collector still protected it, he re-wrapped the pack, tying it up so it formed a sling he could wear over one shoulder.

Quietly descending the stairs that led to the kitchen, Arderi hoped to scrounge up some food for his travel and be off before the house awoke.

To his surprise, when he arrived in the kitchen, his mother and Mag’Oella both stood in the kitchen, waiting on him.

“You retired to your room so fast last eve, I did not have the chance to speak with you.” Mag’Oella, her long, curly red hair bouncing on her shoulders, came walking up to him. Standing awkwardly in front of him, the girl twirled a lock of hair and fidgeted her feet.

“Hello, Mag. I was hoping to see you here.”

The girl let out a giggle. “You never were much good at lying, Arderi, yet that is all for the better. Your Ma says you are leaving again this morn.”

“Aye. I have something I must do in Mocley.”

With eyes sparkling, Mag’Oella reached out and placed a hand over Arderi’s. “I have always wanted to go to a real city.”

Extracting his hand from hers, Arderi reached out and took the girl by her shoulders. He felt uncomfortable talking to her in front of his mother, yet he knew he could not leave her this time without an explanation. “Look, Mag, I am truly sorry that I disappeared. I know we have all except been promised to each other.” He shot a glance to his mother before returning to look at Mag. “Things have changed. I do not know where I will end up, yet I do not think it will be here.”

Upon entering the kitchen and seeing her there, he had not known what he would say, nor what her reaction would be. The sharp sting her slap left upon his cheek had not even been on his list of possibilities.

“You leave without so much as a goodbye, letting everyone believe you dead or worse, and now you think you can simply brush me aside!” She flung up her hands. “Men!” Twirling around, she stormed from the room.

His mother greeted him with a wry smile, though thankfully said nothing about Mag. “Your Papa went back to our room to get something for you.” She held out a sack. “There should be a good tenday’s worth of food here, if you can manage not to eat all of it in one sitting.”

“My thanks, Ma.” Taking the sack, he set it next to his own on the floor. “Ma, I—”

“Shh!” She cut him off. “Do not make this harder for us than it needs be.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I want you to remember one thing for me, Arderi.”

“Aye, Ma?”

“You have never fit in, we have always known this. You have always dreamed of being more than just a fielder. When your brother, Alant—” She paused and covered her mouth. It embarrassed Arderi to watch her fight off tears. “When he was… accepted into the Shaper’s Order, we saw how it affected you. How much you wanted to have that as well. Well, mayhaps that was not the life the Gods had planned for you. Mayhaps you will find something in Mocley. Yet, always remember.” She reached out and pulled him into a hug as she began to weep. “Never forget, if you do not… find what you are looking for… we will always be here for you. You are a man full grown now. Still, I do not want you to feel like you have to stay on your own.” She held him out at arms length, tears flowing unchecked down her face. “You will always have a home here.”

“I know, Ma.” During the meeting on the past eve, Arderi told them most of what happened to him during his time in the Nektine. He had not, however, mentioned anything about the Tat’Sujen or any of the related subjects around the mysterious Commander Clytus Rillion, other than the man’s death. He wanted to say something more, something to make her understand, yet he did not know where to start.

I do not even understand how it relates to me! What can I tell her?

The door opened behind them and Tanin walked in. “It is almost sunrise, son.”

Turning, he looked at his father and noted that the man first glanced to Arderi’s hip before crossing the room. Tanin held out his hand, a stoic look upon his face.

Arderi reached out to take the offered hand, yet rushed in and embraced his father instead. “I love you and Ma so much, Papa. I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused.”

Tanin embraced Arderi warmly, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “I know son. I know. I am not happy at the manner in which you started all this, yet I must say, I am proud of how you are handling it now.”

Releasing his embrace, Arderi took a step back and looked into his father’s eyes. “My thanks, Papa.”

Biting his lower lip, Tanin reached out and placed his hands on Arderi’s shoulders. “I only ask that you do me and your Ma one thing.” Arderi nodded. “While you are in Mocley, you find out about Alant. There is only one thing that gnaws at the heart more than losing a son, and that is not knowing how or why.”

Breaking eye contact, Arderi dropped his gaze to the floor. “Aye, Papa. If it is within my power, I will do as you ask.”

“Good.” Tanin reached down, picked up Arderi’s pack, and held it for him to take. “Now, you have a caravan to catch.”

Taking the pack, Arderi turned to his mother. He knew she was fighting back tears once more, and he wished he were not the instrument of that pain.

“Ma, I—” Arderi was once again cut off by his mother’s crushing embrace. She cried fully now, and her quiet sobs shook her body. He returned her hug and let her continue crying until she broke from him on her own.

“I know you are doing what you feel you must, and I will not stop you. Just keep in mind that I have already lost one son. Do not make me bear the loss of a second.”

The thought of reminding her that, until last eve, she had borne the loss of two sons crossed his mind, yet wisely, he held his tongue.

“Farewell, Ma. I will remember your words, and if it is in my power, do as you say.”

They walked him to the front door and followed him out onto the porch. Arderi assumed they would walk with him all the way to the fair grounds where the caravan had stayed. When they did not follow him down the stairs onto the street, he paused and glanced back. “Are you not coming?”

“Nix, son. This is as far as we go.” Taking a small pouch from his pocket, Tanin held it out toward Arderi. “It is not much, yet it is all that we have. It will serve you better than us.”

Guilt swept over Arderi at the thought of the coins resting in his pack.

In that one pouch alone, I have a lifetime’s wage for a simple fielder like my father.

Kneeling down, he opened his pack and withdrew two gold ta’narians. Standing, he walked back up the stairs, put one hand over his father’s coin purse, and forced it down. “Nix, Papa. Let me lighten your burden for once.”

Opening his father’s hand, he set the two coins in Tanin’s palm. Tanin stared at the money in disbelief. “Son, how could you have so much money?”

“Fear not, Papa, it is not ill gained. It was a final gift from Master Rillion. He instructed me to use it for any needs I may have. I have no greater need than caring for my family.”

Speechless, Tanin nodded.

Not wanting to be drawn into more emotional embraces, Arderi quickly descended the stairs, re-slung his packs over his shoulder, and walked down the cobblestone street toward the fair grounds. He was about to round the corner of the last building on the row when he glanced over his shoulder. His parents still stood on the porch, clinging tightly to each other. He paused for a fraction of a moment to etch their image into his mind. Without looking away, Arderi took a few more steps, and his parents disappeared from his view. A slow, burning ache crept into his heart and he stopped in the street.

Do not make this harder than it needs be.

Forcing himself forward, Arderi took a step, then another. Before he could stop himself, he raced along at a full run, thankful that the streets sat deserted at this early aurn.

Rounding a bend, the fair grounds burst into view. Many of the wagons were already hitched and waiting in a line upon the street that led out of the Hild’alan stead. Slowing to a walk, Arderi strode up to the front wagon.

Jintrill sat perched upon the bench looking as uncomfortable as usual. “I wondered how I would go about locating you should you decide not to show this morn.”

Taking the hand the Shaper offered, Arderi stepped up and plopped down beside him. “I could no more miss this caravan than I could stop taking breath.”

Before long, the rest of the wagons joined those on the road and the caravan headed for Mocley. Heavy-hearted, Arderi sat and watched his home slip by. When they passed under the main gates, Arderi caught the eye of Guarder Captain Nime. The grizzly man stood with a hand resting upon the hilt of his sword and nodded once to Arderi as the wagon rolled past. Nodding back, Arderi again realized how much he had changed since he stowed away inside Master Rillion’s caravan. Thinking back to the day, his mind recalled the strange Priestess of Saphanthia he met during his time at the Palintium. It was unfortunate he had not thought of her sooner. He would have liked to speak with her once more.