To Darkness Fled (30 page)

A chorus of agreement, "So be it," "May it be so," and "As it has been said," burst forth, only this time, the voices did not quiet. A woman's voice broke into an upbeat song. Almost every soul in the room quickly joined in, Sparrow included.

Er'Rets was lost in the darkness within.

The Light of the world is Caan!

Like sunshine at noonday his glory shone in.

The Light of the world is Caan!

No darkness have we who in Arman abide.

The Light of the world is Caan!

We walk in the light when we follow our Guide.

The Light of the world is Caan!

Ye dwellers in Darkness with tar-blinded eyes.

The Light of the world is Caan!

Go, wash, at His bidding and light will arise.

The Light of the world is Caan!

No need of sunlight in Shamayim we're told.

The Light of the world is Caan!

For Caan is the Light in the city of gold.

The Light of the world is Caan!

The song ended in a heavy silence. Then a man started to sing from the table above.

Come to the Light, 'tis shining for thee.

Sweetly the Light has dawned upon me.

Once I was blind, but now I can see.

For Caan has brought Light that is free.

The people sang this twice, then, on the third time through, a clear woman's voice began a measure behind, leading several other women in a round. When the refrain finally ended, Trajen sang a phrase--nearly a chant. Everyone joined in.

"Sh'ma Er'Rets, Arman hu elohim, Arman hu echad, Arman hu shlosha be-echad."

The words were the old language like what Sir Gavin and the knights had said in Barthos' temple. How strange that so many would know this language. And what were they saying about Arman?

When the singing ended, Trajen said, "Some of you may have noticed a few unfamiliar faces this day. We often welcome new followers into our fold, but today our guests
have been walking with Arman for many years
. We have heard of the deceit in Sitna and knew in our hearts it was true. Our promised king is not the evil man we thought him to be, but a man who, like Caan himself, was made a servant for his people, scorned and beaten, until Arman pulled him into the Light where all could see the truth.

"We have with us this day Sir Gavin Lukos and his companions who are escorting the rightful heir to Er'Rets--the true Crown Prince, Gidon Hadar--north to safety. There they plan to raise support so the true king can return to Armonguard and proclaim
Arman hu elohim, Arman hu echad, Arman hu shlosha be-echad
, a truth so bright it will push back Darkness forever."

The crowd murmured. Achan shrank back against the wall under the table. He had expected an introduction, but who could live up to such words? He'd almost rather they strip him down and fawn over his birthmark.

Boot steps clunked across the floor. The voices hushed so suddenly, Achan couldn't help leaning forward to see what was happening. Just as he peeked out from under the table, a set of legs cast a shadow over his face. He glanced up to see Sir Gavin looking down into his eyes.

Achan's stomach rolled as he realized the crowd had been watching Sir Gavin.

"'Tis true," Sir Gavin said. "I found him once, and I'll not lose him again, wherever he may hide himself."

The crowd chuckled and Sir Gavin reached down with his calloused hand. Achan clasped his wrist and allowed the old knight to hoist him to his feet.

Sir Gavin clapped a hand on Achan's shoulder. "Here stands King Axel Hadar's
only
son. Here stands your future king. For in less than a year's time, this young man will sit on the throne in Armonguard and bring an end to the Darkness."

The people burst into cheering.

Less than a year? Achan tensed, yet couldn't fight his own smile, so contagious was the joy on the faces around him.

"A feast for our two kings!" Trajen yelled. "For this earthly king and our king who reigns in Shamayim!"

"Hear, hear!" a man said and the people cheered again.

Everyone moved at once. Those who'd been sitting on the table jumped down and put it back where it belonged. Ressa set one of the covered bowls on the table, and other women joined in to help. Sir Gavin guided Achan to the entrance. People clustered around, blocking his view of the food.

A portly man with a wisp of black hair took Achan's hand in both of his. "A pleasure and honor, Your Majesty."

"Thank you," Achan said.

Another man, stocky with a scarred face, pushed forward. "Say the word and I'll fight with you, my prince."

"We'd be honored to have your sword." Sir Gavin clasped the man's shoulder. "Trajen will keep you posted as to where our army will assemble. Likely Carmine."

Achan's stomach roiled again. They were truly going to build an army and fight against Esek? Good men like this, family men, might die for him? Before he could dwell on the matter, three more men pledged their swords for Achan's sake.

A pretty young red-haired girl curtsied before him. "My heart fills with hope to see your face, Your Highness. I can see you're brave and strong. With you leading our men I know we shall not be in Darkness much longer."

Achan felt taller at her words. He bowed, took her hand, and kissed it. "Thank you, my lady. Your words inspire me to crush any enemy who would stand in my way."

The young woman's face flushed. She tugged her hand free and stumbled back, her eyes locked with Achan's until she sank into the crowd.

Easy, Achan,
Sir Caleb said.
This is not a noblewoman who requires such courtesy.

Heat crept up Achan's neck.
Well, why should that matter? You told me I had to act with
dignity and respect in formal gatherings.

Aye, but you must consider your subjects' social class or you'll start a scandal with every young maid you meet. These women are not used to such flattery and may take your words as more than they were.

Achan met Sir Caleb's critical gaze.
But I meant what I said.

The corners of Sir Caleb's mouth twitched, like he was fighting a smile.
I see I must teach you about women next.

I know about women, thank you very much.

Sir Caleb laughed out loud. Achan scowled. The knight looked quite mad laughing alone on the other side of the room.

Trajen spoke in a loud voice, and Achan found the man standing at the head of the table now packed with steaming bowls of food.
"We are one in heart and mind. We claim no possessions as our own, but share all we have. Darkness may surround us, but in our hearts, the Light is blinding. As we continue to testify to the love of Caan, truly there are none needy among us. For Arman provides our every need." Trajen met Achan's eyes and held out an arm, beckoning him forward. "Come, Your Highness, sit at our humble table and be filled."

Achan somehow managed to cross the room and sit on the stool at the head of the table. Thankfully, Trajen didn't ask him to offer thanks the food, but said the words himself.

"Arman, we thank you for your many blessings, for this food, fellowship, and the hope that dines with us this day. Let us break bread with glad and sincere hearts, praising you in all things. So may your will be, forever."

A chorus of "So be it" and "May it be so" erupted. The rest of Achan's party was ushered to the table. Sir Caleb sat to Achan's left, Sir Gavin to his right. Sparrow sat beside Inko on the other end.

Bowls of steaming flatbread filled the table along with seasoned brown rice, cuts of chicken, diced tomatoes, wedges of apples and peaches, peas, steamed carrots, shredded lamb, and stacks of toasted trenchers. The aroma watered his tongue, but no one touched the food. Every face watched him.

Ressa swept forward. She set a trencher in front of him, then arranged several pieces of flatbread on it, scooped rice, chicken, and tomatoes onto the flatbread, and rolled it up. She raised her eyebrows and smiled with a nod of her head. "Go ahead and eat, Your Majesty."

Achan lifted the rolled-up meal to his mouth and bit down on the rich and spicy mixture. He chewed, unhinged that everyone still stared. He smiled with his lips closed to hold in the food and said, "Mmm."

The crowd burst into cheers and applause. Achan kept himself busy chewing, eyes downcast. His approval of the meal seemed to be all everyone had been waiting for. People began filling their trenchers. Achan, happy to have the attention off him, glanced at Sparrow and found that the boy was the only person still staring.
What?

You did well. That must have been terrifying.

Achan smiled.
You think I'm going to have to do that every time we eat with strangers?

Yes. I am afraid this will soon be how you eat for the rest of your life.

Achan lowered his gaze to his plate.
The first tradition to go if I ever sit on any throne. There's no reason I should eat first, especially with everyone watching.

It is meant to honor you.

I don't need to be honored. Though it was nice for Ressa to rescue me. If she hadn't I might still be staring at the food.

You only like her because she looks like...

Achan stared at Sparrow, who'd looked away.
Looks like who?
Ressa resembled Gren in so many ways, but how could Sparrow know that? Achan had told no one.

Not looks. She cooks like I suspect the king's chef might.

I don't see you pushing the food away.
Achan tucked his last bite of flatbread roll into his mouth and reached for another.
You're right, though. Vile, evil woman! How dare she feed us so well?

Then why not ask her to join our group? She can be your personal chef.

Achan scooped rice and lamb onto his second flatbread.
Why don't you eat, or better yet, talk to Inko. He hasn't had the pleasure of your chiding conversation as much as I have. Go on then, share your wit with him a while.

You
spoke to me, not the other way--

Achan blocked Sparrow out, rolled up his flatbread, and bit into it. He caught the boy's slight frown and grinned. Having stronger bloodvoicing skill than Sparrow was fun.

* * *

Vrell reclined on the pillows in the front room, holding Romal loosely so his feet touched the floor but he could bounce freely and not fall. The baby boy stared at her with wide, brown eyes. She made a face, puckering her lips and squinting. Romal giggled and bent his knees, his chubby cheeks dimpling.

What a sweet creature.

Ressa had handed the baby to Vrell so she could groom Achan. The two of them had been gone for a while. They were not alone, of course. Sir Gavin and the men were with Achan, discussing the plans to depart the city in the morning. Vrell felt excluded out in the front room. She had considered carrying Romal back there, but knew the little boy would cry the moment he saw his mother.

Muffled voices rose in the hall. The curtain shifted, and Achan held it open for Ressa.

Vrell rolled her eyes.

"Bite, bite, Mima!" Romal squirmed, reaching for his mother.

Ressa came straight over and swept him up. "Mima thinks it's time for Romal to nap."

"Bite, bite."

"Yes, you may have dinner first, my sweet."

Ressa left from the room without another word. Achan fell onto the pillows beside Vrell. His hair hung loose around his face, but the ends had been trimmed, as had his scruffy facial hair, to keep up his shadow of a beard.

"What?" Achan slapped Vrell lightly on the back of the head.

She flinched and shied back. "
You
smell like rose water."

He smirked. "It's not nearly so bad when a woman washes your hair." He put his hand on Vrell's ear and pushed her.

She tipped onto her side, grunted, and struggled to sit upright again. "Stop."

Achan's lips curved in a small smile. He snagged her arm, drew it behind her back, and grabbed her other wrist in the same hand. Then he flipped her over his lap and pushed her down to the floor. Her cheek slapped against the wood floor. Achan's knee pressed into her back and squeezed the air from her body in a rush.

"What are you doing?" She gasped in a quick breath. "Get off me!"