The Awakened: Book One (25 page)

“I don’t think so.”  She hesitated, wanting him to draw it out of her.

“Well, what’s the problem then?”

“I think I’m with child.”

Lemus stared at her with a blank look on his face.  “How long has this been going on?”

Maeryn lifted her head from its drooped position and looked him in the eye.  “A few days,” she lied.  “I thought it would go away, but it hasn’t.”

“That’s ridiculous. There is no…”

“It usually happens in the morning,” she interrupted, trying to distract him from his train of thought.  “…but sometimes at night.”

Lemus stood speechless for a moment and Maeryn secretly rejoiced at the way everything was turning out.  “I have work to do in the morning,” he finally blurted out, but with less conviction than she was used to hearing in his voice.  “I’m going back to bed.”

As Maeryn listened to his retreating footsteps, she knew that it had worked.  Not one word was mentioned of Adair.  In fact, it seemed that Lemus had all but forgotten about him.  If he acted as she expected he would, it would be days before he would revisit the subject. 
He won’t like the idea of having a child at first.  But when he accepts the fact that it will happen regardless of how he feels, he’ll change his opinion.  In a few days, he’ll come bursting into the room, talking about the legacy he will leave to his children, as if the whole thing was his idea in the first place.
  Maeryn had never been the type of person to manipulate others, but now it was a matter of survival.  Her old life was gone, forever changed.  This was her life now and it was horrible for the most part.  But like Zula said, she would have to change the way she looked at the world, to find little things to make her happy.  And, she had to admit despite her new position in life, she felt more powerful than she ever did before…and that made her happy.

Chapter 15

In the grandest library in all the Empire the smell of old parchment hung in the air, unable to clear out from the lack of ventilation.  But that is exactly what one would want out of a suitable library.  The old documents needed to be kept away from the elements, protected from sunlight and air.  Saba sat alone at a stone table amid rows of shelving that reached to the thirty foot arched ceilings.  The journey to
Orud
had been exhausting, taking months, but Saba was no stranger to travel.  It seemed that most of his life, what he could manage to remember, had been spent moving from one place to another.  His arrival in
Bastul
marked the longest stretch of stillness, but that had now passed.  Though tiring, Saba had grown accustomed to the peacefulness of traveling through the land.  So accustomed, in fact, that if he spent too much time indoors he began to grow restless.

Well, you’d better get used to being restless, old man!  You’re going to be here for a while.
  He pulled a thick book off the top of the stack to his right and set it down in front of himself.  It contained paintings of the numerous crests of the most important families in the Orudan Empire.  Saba thought that it would be a good place to start looking for a match to the symbol on the arrowhead.  As he leafed through the pages, his mind began to wander.  There was something about that symbol that seemed familiar, but he had been unable to figure it out during his travels.

One painting made him pause in mid thought, but it was only a likeness of an eagle and he began to turn the pages again.  He picked up the trail of his last thought and retraced the steps that brought him here.  Unable to remember anything about the symbol, he decided instead to research the arrowhead itself.  The construction was typical of what the Orud military used, so he had the idea of searching through the family crests for a lead.  But so far, it had proven useless.  He reached the end of the book and closed it, frustrated with the lack of progress.  He had been here for two days already and without results.

I need to try a different approach.
  Saba rose to his feet and began to walk down the aisles of books, hoping that something would jump out at him.  After a few minutes, he found himself lingering near a section that documented the various religions of the regions that the Empire had conquered. 
It wouldn’t be a religious symbol would it?
  He picked up one of the books and quickly turned a few pages, immediately seeing an improvement.  Most of the content was text, but the few drawings were much more similar in style than what he had been looking at before.  He set the book back on the shelf. 
Something older, more elaborate perhaps.
  He walked further down the aisle and slowly, the documents turned from books to scrolls.  They were not labeled like the books, so he grabbed an armful and headed back to his table.

It was tedious work going through the scrolls, untying and unraveling them, only to find that they were also a dead end.  After several hours of searching, Saba decided to go back to his room at a nearby Inn and get some rest.  Perhaps tomorrow would bring better results.  After placing all of the scrolls and books back in the places that he found them, Saba climbed the stairs leading up to the first level of the library.  There was no light coming in from the windows and the custodian waved to him from behind his candle lit desk.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he called out.

“First thing in the morning,” Saba replied, waving as he headed for the entrance.

The vestibule of the library was a long and wide corridor with columns lining the sides.  Between each fifth column was a statue of the gods of Orud, their bodies partially clothed and posed in some dramatic gesture.  At the end of the hall, two great wooden doors stood ajar, allowing the cool air to make its way inside.  Saba stepped through the doorway and walked into the night air of
Orud
.  Apparently he had been down in the basement longer than he thought, as he looked to the darkened sky.  The view from this vantage point always took his breath away.  The library was perched atop a small knoll within the academy district, surrounded by various temples and schools.  From the terrace, Saba could see a great deal of the city and the flickering light from torches spread out for miles.  The beauty of this city was unrivaled and Saba realized that one needn’t look far to see it.  The flat stone streets curved throughout the city lined with alternating iron torch posts and planted trees.  The vegetation within the city was maintained by an enormous force of gardeners enlisted by the Emperor himself.

Saba
took a deep breath and descended the library steps to the street below.  Crossing the road, he walked south for a few blocks before turning east along the street that would eventually lead him to the Inn.  It had taken a few days to find a place to stay, but luckily, he still had plenty of money from his days of tutoring Kael.

Kael!
  As soon as the name came to him, his heart dropped.  He was such a special boy.  Inquisitive.  It broke Saba’s heart to think of how his life had come to an end.  He was yet another innocent casualty of this brutal life.

Suddenly, Saba’s senses became alert.  Perhaps it was a noise or a smell.  He couldn’t be sure but it felt like someone was following him.  The sensation wasn’t foreign to him, as he had noticed it during his travels to
Orud
as well.  The last few days before his arrival were spent with the occasional glance over his shoulder, but the feeling went away when he entered the city limits.  Now it was back again and it was unsettling.  He quickened his pace toward the Inn and kept his eyes moving, checking each alley as he neared it.

“Sir,” called a voice.

Saba
stopped in his tracks and looked around.

“Sir, may I have a word with you?” came the voice again.  It echoed slightly off the stone buildings on either side of the street.

Saba
turned around and saw a dark-robed man walking briskly in his direction.  If he was trying to be stealthy, he was not very good at it.  “My good man, it’s late and an old man needs his rest,” he replied.  Turning back around, Saba began to walk faster than before.

“Please Sir, I must speak with you,” the man pleaded.

Saba
tried to ignore him, only glancing behind to make sure that he was showing no signs of aggression.  To his surprise, the man had stopped walking. 
Good.  If you mean me no harm, then whatever you have to say can wait for the light of day.
  When Saba looked ahead, he saw another man dressed like the first, standing under a torch post half a block away.  “What do you want,” he called out, trying not to sound scared.

“We wish to speak with you about a very important matter,” the second man called back.

“It is late.  Perhaps we can talk over breakfast.”

“No,” the man behind him said, from much closer than before.  “We have been waiting for you for too many years.  We are done waiting.”

Saba
turned back around, looking to the nearest alley for an escape route, but the shadows in the alley began to move.  He turned to run across the street, but all of the alleys around him began to empty with men, their cloaks billowing in the slight breeze.  In a matter of seconds, he was surrounded by more than twenty strangers.

“What do you want to talk about?” he called out, turning in circles to keep an eye on the nearest man.

One of the figures stepped forward.  “We are looking for someone and we need your help.”

“Who are you looking for?” he asked the man.  Suddenly, he heard a step behind him and whirled around to confront the man, but it was too late.  Something brushed passed his shoulders and immediately cinched his arms to his side.

“We’re looking for you,” the man replied with a calm, methodical voice.

Saba
looked down at the rope which now restricted his movement and felt panic.  He tried to scream for help but one of the men stuffed a rag into his mouth, muffling the sound.  Saba was helpless in that instant, and his only emotion was fear.  Suddenly the vision of the streets of
Orud
disappeared as someone slipped a cloth over his head.  Saba dropped to his knees, not knowing what was happening and powerless to do anything but comply.

Then the struggle stopped, just as suddenly as it had begun.  Saba knelt on the ground, wondering why they were not dragging him off or beating him.  He received only silence for an answer, which was no answer at all.  Then, faintly, he heard the sharp clipping sound of hooves on stone.  It was a horse. 
No, several horses.
  And they were moving in his direction.  Saba waited a few seconds, listening intently, also making out a wagon, presumably pulled by the same horses.  Saba struggled to his feet, yelling for help as loud as the rag in his mouth would let him.  He took a few steps in the direction of the horses before he felt a sharp tug on the rope around his arms.  He lost his balance and fell back to the street.

“Settle down old man,” an amused voice commanded.  “That’s your transportation, not your rescue.”

The man’s words were confirmed when the wagon, pulled by a team of horses, stopped next to Saba.  He was lifted to his feet and escorted to the rear of the wagon where he was, to his surprise, gently placed inside.  As he lay on the floor of the wagon which jostled with the movement of the horses, Saba’s fear slowly gave way to reason and he tried to make some sense of the situation. 
Is this an arrest?
  These men were not soldiers, so that was not a likely answer. 
Whoever these people are, they have not harmed me other than scaring an old man half to death.  They must want me alive!
  That, at least, was an encouraging thought as the horses took him away.

* * * *

Kael was awakened by a tapping sound at his door.  At first he thought it was a dream, but it happened again.  The night air was cold on his skin as he threw back the covers and went to the door.  It made a creaking sound when he opened it, loud as a trumpet in the stillness of the night.  Donagh and Narian were standing just outside of the door.

“Are you hungry?” Donagh whispered.

“Why?”

“Cause we’re all going down to the kitchen to get some food.”