Severed Destinies (35 page)

The dressing around his head had been changed frequently to keep the wound as clean as possible but Varayan’s skull had been shattered on one side. It was a miracle he had lasted this long.

“
When they first brought him here, I believed he would die that night,” said Jolas. Seeing that Rynn appeared not to have heard him, the councilor continued. “We’ll never know what actually happened.”

“
Of course we know,” sighed Rynn. “Varayan couldn’t resist the lure of the city. He had several money pouches that clearly did not belong to him. He got greedy and tried taking the rooftops to avoid the guards. Ardan deigned it to be his time.”

“
There is something not right about his fall though.” Jolas ignored the comments as to Varayan’s light-fingered work and stepped closer to the bed. “It was as if Varayan had tried to leap an impossible distance.”

Rynn yawned. “It was raining hard that night. Perhaps he couldn’t see what was ahead. Varayan always seemed to trust his instincts. Maybe he trusted them too much.”

“
I am surprised that we have not seen your other friends recently. They will have heard what happened.”

“
Gorric and Khir are too busy training. Ever since the soldiers left the city, I hear that Gorric is pushing harder. He is still angry at being left behind.” Rynn’s expression darkened. “As for Kithia, she has been too busy with Arlath recently.”

Jolas saw Rynn’s shoulders sag even further. “I must head out into the city again. Please try to get some rest today.”

“
No promises,” smiled the acolyte.

As Jolas left the bedroom, Rynn leant forward and stared into Varayan’s grey face. There was no flickering movement behind the eyelids and the bruising that had spread from the impact wound had deepened in colour.

“
After everything we have lived through in recent weeks,” Rynn said to his stricken friend. “It seems bizarre that Ardan chose for you to meet your fate in this way.”

He stood and glanced down at his hands. With a shrug, the acolyte placed them over Varayan’s chest, closed his eyes and waited. After a moment, he moved his hands over the head wound. When he had tried this on numerous occasions during the past week, he had more patience. This time, he simply let out a roar of frustration when he realized nothing would happen and turned away from the bed.

“
I’m sorry,” he muttered.

With that, he left the bedroom and, as he headed downstairs, he could feel anger burning within him. However, he was angry that nobody else deemed Varayan’s impending death to be of importance when compared against other distractions. He passed a member of Jolas’ staff and asked them to watch over Varayan until he returned.

After leaving the estate, Rynn made his way to the home of Karrid. One of the guards on the gate told him that Kithia could be found in the gardens at the rear of the house. As he began circling the building, which was approximately the same size as that of Jolas, Rynn realized that he had no idea what he would say to Kithia. He had never been angry at her before like this but she needed to understand that cavorting with Arlath would not be proper conduct whilst Varayan lay on his death bed. He also realized that he was not even wearing his robes and instead was dressed in the loose-fitting rich clothing Jolas had given to him upon their arrival in the city.

His heart began to pound when he saw her. Arelya was also there and they were deep in hushed conversation.

“
Kithia,” yelled Rynn suddenly, taking himself by surprise.

She turned upon hearing his voice and smiled. However, that smile faded as he came nearer. “You look terrible.”

“
And why do you think that is?” His tone was sharp.

“
How is Varayan?” she asked.

“
Do you care?”

Kithia looked as though he had struck her across the face. “Arelya, would you excuse us please?”

Karrid’s young daughter looked nervously at Rynn then nodded. “Don’t forget that Arl…”

“
I know,” snapped Kithia, purposefully interrupting her.

Rynn watched Arelya swiftly head back to the house. “Don’t let me keep you if you have more important things to do.”

Kithia stepped close to him and glared deep into his tired eyes. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you. What’s wrong?”

“
What could possibly be wrong?” laughed Rynn. “The kingdom isn’t in danger of invasion and my friend isn’t lying in bed dying as we speak.”

“
Look, you’re clearly exhausted so why don’t you go back and get some rest.” Her tone made it obvious she was not asking.

“
You just want me out of the way because that arrogant blond bastard is arriving soon,” Rynn snarled. “Just admit it, Kithia. Now that you have him, Varayan and I don’t matter.”

“
You are not yourself. Why are you being like this?”

“
I have sat by Varayan’s side since his fall and have watched him dying. Not once have I seen you visit, nor Gorric and Khir. Did you think so little of him?”

Kithia stepped back and shook her head. “He saved your life so I will always be grateful to him for that. If he hadn’t, I would never have met you and our friendship is one of the things keeping me sane in such a dark time.”

Rynn studied her face, noticing that she could no longer look him in the eyes. “And he is
my
friend. Your words mean nothing.” He turned to walk away.

“
I lost my family, Rynn. How can you be so harsh?”

“
You’re not the only one to lose someone close to you. I think you forget that.” He glanced back at her and could see tears glistening on her cheeks. “I thought you cared.”

“
I do,” she said, defiantly wiping the tears away.

“
Then come with me to see Varayan. He needs us.”

Kithia sighed. “I promise that I will visit later today. You need to get some rest and I have matters to attend to here.”

Rynn suddenly leapt towards her, letting out an almost feral cry that echoed across the gardens. “You lie.” He gripped her arm tightly as she tried to step away from him.

“
Let me go,” she ordered, confused as to who this was standing before her.

“
I would do as she says.” Arlath was striding towards them, his pale blue eyes fixed on Rynn.

Kithia felt the acolyte’s hand shudder and saw his body tense. “Please,” she whispered to him.

“
Did you hear me?” yelled Arlath. “I suggest you release her and leave this estate.”

As the recruit advanced, reaching out to separate them, Kithia saw the change in Rynn’s eyes and froze. They were once again opaque, as they had been when he had healed Ilkar.

Arlath grasped the acolyte by the wrist and wrenched his hand away from Kithia. Rynn calmly placed his free hand against Arlath’s chest and uttered a single indecipherable word. In an instant, the recruit was hurled backwards, landing heavily on his back twenty feet away from where he had been standing.

Kithia moved away from Rynn as quickly as she could and ran to Arlath’s side, realizing before she reached him that he was unconscious

“
I…I don’t understand.” She heard Rynn’s frightened voice behind her.

“
I suggest you leave,” she shouted to the acolyte. “Before the guards arrive and before Arlath comes to.”

“
Is he alive?” Rynn asked shakily. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I couldn’t control…”

“
Rynn, go,” cried Kithia, looking back and seeing the fear and confusion on his face.

“
I’m sorry,” he said, sprinting away.

Kithia watched him vanish from view and then heard Arlath groan. As he regained consciousness, she could also hear the sound of footfalls approaching from the house accompanied by Arelya’s high-pitched voice.

Khir flinched as he heard Gorric’s dislocated shoulder click back into place. The yell of pain that followed only amplified Khir’s discomfort.

“
This is what happens when you push yourself too hard,” came Devanor’s voice from behind him.

Khir had been so caught up in watching the healers tend to Gorric that he had failed to hear the officer enter. “Sir, this was not Gorric’s fault. It was…”

“
Still coming to his defence I see, Khir,” interrupted Devanor. “Noble but unnecessary in this situation.”

The two healers began rotating Gorric’s left arm, checking whether the bones were back in alignment as they should be.

“
No harm done, sir,” said Gorric, grimacing.

Devanor raised an eyebrow. “No
serious
harm but keep training at this pace and you will certainly have more than a dislocated shoulder to worry about. You have been wielding your sword day and night whilst taking the weight of nearly a full suit of armour. Physically, you are exhausted. Your mental state is suffering too.”

“
I just want to get out there as soon as possible to help the king.”

“
And you will be of use to him like this?” Devanor signaled for the healers to leave the room. “Gorric, it is no secret that you have another reason for wanting to face these foreigners but you will only enter the ranks of the Rotian army when we deem you ready. Physically and mentally.”

“
Do you not feel that you could better serve the kingdom being amongst those men who have gone north, sir?”

“
No, I don’t. I was amongst the ranks before you two and the rest of the recruits were even born. I am too old to be going off to war.”

Khir gave Gorric a knowing glance. Devanor may have been over twice their age but there was no doubt that he would still be a formidable opponent. If the call to arms came, Devanor would once more join the ranks to protect the land and its people.

“
What are my orders, sir?” Gorric asked the veteran.

Devanor stroked his greying beard as he thought. “Tomorrow, you will avoid any physical training. Instead, you will apply yourself in tactical and strategic training. You are a good swordsman but your mind is often unfocused during combat. Sharpen your wits and it will not be long before you may be considered for a junior officer position.”

Gorric tried not to look disappointed. He found tactical studies often hard to follow and relied on the help of both Khir and Arlath during their lessons.

“
I assume that I will be continuing as usual, sir,” Khir said.

“
Are you injured too?” Devanor asked him.

“
No, sir.”

“
Then you have your answer. When it comes to physical and mental training, Khir, you seem to have a sharp mind and a good aim but you clearly require further practice with a sword. I will be increasing your daily swordsmanship training from now on.”

As Devanor turned back to face Gorric, Khir shook his head. He simply struggled when it came to hand-to-hand combat and, whilst training required a recruit’s sword to become an extension of their own arm, Khir was still slow and clumsy. He would not even be permitted into the bowman ranks if he could not wield a blade.

“
Rest that arm,” Devanor ordered Gorric. “I will check in with you both later.” With that, he left the room.

“
How do you feel?” Khir asked.

“
Like I could take on an army,” smiled Gorric. “My shoulder doesn’t even hurt.”

“
Really?” Khir stepped forward and gripped his friend’s shoulder, watching with amusement as Gorric winced. “Still looks sore to me.”

Pulling his arm away, Gorric scowled. “It sounds like we both have some way to go before we can enter the ranks.”

“
A long way,” muttered Khir.

“
Having doubts?”

Khir shook his head. “No. However, all I can think is that my inability to wield a sword successfully may ultimately mean I cannot enter the ranks and go with you.”

“
What makes you think I will be successful?” Gorric asked, rubbing at his aching shoulder. “Besides, even if we both earn promotion into the ranks, the chances of us both being placed within the same regiment are slim.”

“
Why?”

“
Recruits from Vylandor are not simply allocated positions within the city garrison, Khir. I could end up being sent to Fort Calden whilst you were placed in the ranks of the Karthain bowmen. Where you end up is left to the disgression of both the officers here and in the main army.”

Khir sighed. “You tell me this now?”

“
It gets better. You and I may well both be assigned places in Vylandor’s force but I would be charging into battle amongst the infantry whilst you rained arrows on our enemies from the back or flanks. We would not fight alongside each other.”

“
You would think that they might tell us that from the outset,” Khir remarked.

Gorric laughed. “We can always put a request in, if you can’t stand to be apart from me.”

It was Khir’s turn to scowl. “Not a bad idea perhaps. We do of course know the king personally now.”

Gorric’s laugh faded. “I wish I knew what was happening in the north. They will be at the Ulmerien by now, if not beyond it.”

“
As soon as there is any news, I’m sure we will be told. We just have to be patient and trust in Afaron.”

“
My patience wore thin a long time ago and the only people I trust are either here in Vylandor or…” Gorric paused, ran a hand through his hair then opted to refocus his thoughts. “Let’s go. Devanor will kick our backsides even more if we sit here talking.”