Chapter 3
THE EMPTY ROOM
Taul sat alone in the room where his mother had died. He absently picked through the contents of a small crate on the floor, which conveniently stored the clutter that accompanied her in her last weeks. Inside the crate, among some half empty and many unopened potions and salves, were an assortment of trinkets and charms — seeds and pebbles, once bright flowers, feathers, and twigs, notes, sketches, paper-toys and at least six colorful glass-beaded bracelets. Like meting out her medicine, these keepsakes he brought with on his daily visits, formed part of the rituals around the dying Queen, rituals he became oddly attached to.
Taul picked out one of the pebbles and a small stone, then put it aside. He opened a note he wrote but simply put it back as the inky letters were drowned out by hot burning tears. He put the note back instead. He recalled almost every trinket, and every charm, as days and weeks spread out, these tiny markers in the day, the familiar patterns comforted her and consoled him. The lined up potions, concoctions and odd smells meant she was well enough to swallow. By midmorning when they had opened the curtains, it meant she had woken from a mid-morning nap. If she asked for tea, it likely meant she would be in a brave mood to try to eat a small meal by nightfall. Seemingly endless rituals and inconveniences that were small but well disguised victories, stacked against the inevitable. Taul knew her death could not be avoided, and the very night she died, he had a dream in which he saw her leave with two large ravens. In the dream, she held and hugged him, something he always longed for — that's why he knew it was a dream. Later that morning he thought he heard feint sobs coming from the hallway. Just outside his room. Caásim's arms found him as he rushed toward the staircase, the eunuch held him, wordlessly with a taut face and arms strung even tighter around the boy's frail birdlike figure.
"Taul ?" A gruff voice called out, startled he dropped one of the larger pebbles he had cupped in his hand and the loud thud it made in the bright open room almost made him jump again. He turned to meet the light grey eyes of Feldr de Grey and immediately snapped to a respectful erect pose to shake the hand of the sword master. Feldr de Grey scratched at her chin and absently touched the corner of a feint scar. The muscles in her face followed a well-worn path as she met the ten year old's face with a frown, softened by a slight sad smile.
"When did you arrive Master Feldr?", Taul asked, looking puzzled.
"I.. ", she began. then discarded the prepared lie, and reminded herself that she had promised the boy's mother that she would be honest with Taul when she could. "I arrived very late the night before last".
"On Sondavend?" Taul frowned, unable to hide his unbelief with the impolite candor of a child. Surely she did not arrive on the very night his mother died? Unbelief lingered a little longer in his green eyes, but Taul felt it would be impolite to question the Sword Master and just nodded.
Feldr looked at the boy intently, so young, and frail. How would he survive this difficult life in the the Mountain. He had a keen intelligence, that was true, but he was too sensitive. He always seemed anxious and scared, his nervousness made her uncomfortable. She ignored her impulse to withdraw and moved closer to him. "What are you busy with Taul?" she asked instead.
"I am going through Mother's stuff. " he paused, "Queen Amaraya's", he corrected the manner in which his mother would be addressed by the Sword Master.
"I brought her, gifts, " while she was ill" he was excited to tell Feldr.
Feldr genuinely smiled, "May I see?"
"Oh yes, yes" — he sat down on the floor again and careful not to break anything, now emptied all the contents of the crate on the floor. "Let me show you!"
Feldr looked at the small heap of items spread on the floor, like a crow's nest that had blown from a tree during a storm.
"I brought her a gift every day. Every day, since she was too weak to get up and walk"
Feldr knelt down beside Taul and summed up the contents mentally. She counted at least ten stones, a little clay figure, a bird carved from wood and tiny envelopes and notes.
"I'd say there are about twenty gifts, maybe more, " said a smooth low voice behind them.
"Ah, I see" said Feldr, without looking up. She got up slowly and turned and nodded in acknowledgement when she matched the voice to the androgynous figure of Caásim who stood in the doorway. Feldr was about to say something, then exhaled instead as she noticed the agitation in the Eunuch's voice and eyes. She thought his eyes looked puffy but wasn't sure if it was her imagination.
"Taul, leave the crate — " the Eunuch's voice sounded harsh. "You can take the crate to your room, once we've returned all the medicine to the apothecary" the boy seemed to hesitate still attached to the last few things that bound him to his Mother. One by one, as if weaving a prayer bead, he put each item back in the crate.
"Taul!" Caásim spoke a little harsher. For a moment the Eunich looked out of place as he hurried to put all the items back in the crate, careful not to break anything. Feldr frowned and Caásim returned her frown with an apologetic smile. And with a slight shrug simply gestured at the boy who now clung wordlessly to the eunuch's robe. It only took a moment to pick the crate and contents up and slide it on the dresser in front of the late queen's bed. The eunuch wiped his hands clean, looked at the light that scattered off a magnificent red jewel set in a white bone ring on the third finger of his left hand. Once pleased that his hands were clean, he touched Taul's hair and returned the hug the boy had been after.
"Come, lunch is served and Father is waiting". Feldr watched as the pair left and she took one last long look at the empty room. A lifetime packed inside twenty gifts. Twenty tokens of love. So much care, it almost filled a full-moon.
"Are you coming Master Feldr?" asked the eunuch and glanced back once over his shoulder. Feldr closed the door behind her and followed them as they made their way to the dining hall.
Lord Vikan stood in front of the window of his study from where he watched his son Taul, Fedr de Grey, and Caásim cross the drawbridge to the main tower in the castle. His features were dressed in a somber expression that matched the clothes he wore at the early morning elegy recital. He cupped his hands in his face, exhaled and drew in a slow deep breath as he pulled the black robe over his shoulder. He closed and locked the door behind his study and made his way to the dining hall. His footfall had faded, replaced by a harsh grinding sound of a heavy stone slab, as it slid across the floor. Two brown hands emerged from the opening in the floor and with astounding agility the lithe figure of a youth jumped through the opening and landed stealthily on the stone floor in the now empty study. In a swift move the youth's hands bunched shoulder length black hair, back, and tied it in a leather string behind his head, leaving a set of high cheekbones exposed. Staying hunched the stealthy youth moved closer to a table and bookshelf. Careful to remain hidden he peeked over the top of the table. His eyes jumped from book to paper to pen until they found what they were after — under a pile of papers was a thick leather bound book and right next to it, his eye caught the glint of a bronze hexagonal cylinder small enough to fit into his hand. Ever so careful not to disturb the arrangement of books and papers on the table, he used two fingers to pull the bronze cylindric device closer to him. It slid closer and he was about to clutch it in his hand when he heard a loud thud coming from the window. He froze as his heart raced and matched the nervous beating of a starling's wings as it pecked at its reflection in the window of the study, causing another flurry of thuds. It seemed to peek inside then hurried off, the youth exhaled, took hold of the cylinder, cupped it in his hand before he carefully wrapped it in a piece of soft cloth which he grabbed from the table before he slid it inside a satchel that hung loosely by his waist. Then his hand shot out and grabbed the leather bound book from the table, he opened the book at a random page and paged back and forth a few times, his eyes scanned the symbols and numbers, and his fingers traced up and down tables a few times. He closed the book and tied a string across the length and width, looping it in the middle, and forming a cross, before tying a knot. The string held both front, back and all the pages in the middle tight. Satisfied that the knot was secure, he held the book in front of him a few moments, re-read the title that he could make out on the spine – “Sakra Tasdi – the path to the circle within”, picked a few specs of dust or dirt from the cover and put the book in the satchel. It was easier than he thought. Too easy, perhaps? No use feeling insecure now, if this was a trap, there was nothing he could do he could only enter one way and there was no way to exit other than the way he came in. He seemed to disappear abruptly. The stone slab slid close with a dull thud and all was quiet. A starling shimmered as it circled upward against the blue sky.
At the head of the dining table, from where Queen Amaraya of Vikandor used to steer the tone when meals were served, was an intricate circular shape, woven in complex sets of patterns threaded in arrays of colored glass beads. It was placed on an ornate wooden box, with a glass top, tiny openings allowed scented candles to perfume the air. The light of the flames brought the glass bead patterns to life and colored the faces of Taul and Lord Vikandor, seated closest to the display an elegy piece to honor the late Queen. There were a few more seats empty at the table, and the discussions were subdued and in a soft tone. Taul listened to the clatter of cutlery and wood crackling in the fireplace behind him. He sat opposite his father, Caasim to his left. Feldr and his father exchanged opinions, between mouthfuls, of meat on a skewer, lost in discussions that involved new mechanisms for exploration of the mountain ranges north, from there. Caasim was quiet, he kicked Taul playfully and smiled slighty at intervals whenever he'd notice the boy not emptying his plate. Taul felt at ease.
"It is difficult to find an engineer, and cryptologist hardy enough to join the expedition," said Lord Vikandor, he paused rested his knife on the plate, "yet clever enough to improvise and figure out the meaning of the symbols, no dount." He peered outside, in the direction of the unexplored territories.
"The clever ones prefer their books," interjected Caasim.
"The guild mentioned two candidates, " Feldr added, she didn't look up but continued to cut into the meat on the skewer of her otherwise empty plate, "the first first candidate is both soldier and engineer.", she paused, and stared in disbelief at a tiny scroll wedged between two pieces of meat on the skewer.
"Is something wrong Master Feldr?" Lord Vikandor frowned?
"Not at all. " she smiled and made sure to hold his gaze, then continued to carefully dissect the meat without drawing any unnecessary attention.
"And the other candidate," asked Caasim, genuinely intrigued
She rested her knife and fork and used both hands to dab at the corners of her mouth before placing the napkin on her lap, then said "A women from the Vadavara guild".
"Delicious meals, tend to be messy," said Caasim and smiled.
Feldr returned a somewhat insincere not sure if the Eunuch was polite or condescending.
Feldr de Grey stood alone in the icy vault beneath the castle. The air was cold and musty. She was getting nervous, opened the tiny scroll she found in her lunch but it was pitch black and there was no sign of the cold moons that hung outside. Whoever slipped the note had someone on the inside working in the kitchens. Her hand instinctively went back to touch the hilt of her sword. In the distance she heard the wind howl as it swept across the gullies.
"Are you waiting for someone Master Feldr?" Feldr heard the voice beside her turned and not seeing anything, turned again and a chemical light flickered on and she stared into dark eyes of a dark haired youth with the high cheekbones. He wore a dark shirt and trousers and with one arm outstretched, held a piece of paper and a bronze cylindric hexagonal in front of her just out of reach. A satchel was strung over his shoulder his hair tied back in a leather string.
Feldr stepped back and readied to draw her sword, he smiled, and she relaxed slightly.
"My name is Yusri" and you have been looking for me.