Islana's Story
Tiernan felt awkward wearing the heavy layers of clothes, stifled and like he could barely move. But it was better than freezing. He had to wonder if that was how Jereh felt on his own Island, without the layers. Awkward.
But after his initial accidental visit to Kalatsu, Dysis and Cleran had asked him to continue to accompany Jereh as she made her reports, to pass on their own information. Kalin, as an act of trust, had agreed... Except this was the last report. Dysis, Kalin with him, would be returning Arpiar, finally, a rough draft of the Agreement done.
Except... One last problem to solve. "I don't need a bodyguard," Kalin said in his own language.
"Yes, you do. Erra?"
"Kalin, stop being an idiot."
"I—"
"You are too important to gallivant through hostile—"
"Then you come with me."
"Kalin..." Jall sighed. He paused and turned to Dysis to translate. Dysis nodded.
"You should have someone, Kalin. For your own protection. Of course my Warriors will do what they can, but with their own prejudices..."
"Jall—"
"Please." Jall shifted uncomfortably. "With the brand on my arm... I don't want to remember those fifteen years."
Kalin nodded, understanding. If he could avoid his own memories, he would, but he had no choice in the matter and had to head to Arpiar. "Then Jereh—"
"With all due respect, Sir Voice?" Tiernan interrupted, and everyone turned to stare at him. He cleared his throat and started again. "With all due respect, Sir Voice, Miss Nirral has already been recognized as involved in the Massacre, a word which will have spread. Speaking both as the future High Lord of the Southwest and as someone who lost family in the Massacre, it would be an insult and a slap in the face for Miss Nirral to accompany you. And I know how hard you're working to make this treaty passable—her presence would be a hindrance."
Jereh stared off away from the group, knowing he was right; Dysis nodded in agreement as well. And finally, so did Kalin. "Which presents another problem—none of my other Knights speak your language."
There was a contemplative quiet, and finally Tiernan finally spoke again. "If you'd find me trustworthy, I'd be honored to stand as bodyguard."
"Trustworthy?" Jall asked, raising an eyebrow. "A Warrior?"
"While I'm sure you're quite trustworthy, I... don't think—" Kalin started.
"I trust him," Jereh said.
Kalin gave her a searching looking. "Really?"
"If he says he'll stand and protect you, he will."
Kalin nodded, and glanced at Jall, who finally, grudgingly, also nodded. "Jereh's trust is not given often," he acknowledged. "And never incorrectly, in my experience."
And Tiernan didn't know how to feel, other than oddly flattered.
[OPENING CREDITS]
Episode 24: Coincidence
Dysis, it was decided, would return to the Capitol to assure the gathered Lords that he was alive and well—and that Cleran was legitimate. On the other hand, Cleran and Kalin were heading directly to Aleann Manor.
Kalin was more nervous than he let on. He was sure of himself and his negotiation skills, but the thought of setting foot on that manor... He rubbed nervously at the stump where his hand had been. He hadn't told Dysis or Cleran that he'd lost that hand at Aleann Manor.
He hadn't told them that he already knew High Lord Taylin Sanasset.
And he certainly hadn't told them he had been in love with Serissa Alayrin.
But with the support of Erra and Jall, he found himself in the Tunnels, and as effortlessly and gently as possible, he pushed himself, Cleran and Tiernan through to the Tunnel exit at the base of the cliffs that were the closet exit to the manor.
Kalin shivered, despite the heat. The last time he'd been there...
"It's a long walk," Tiernan said, breaking the silence. "Let's get going."
So they set off. The sandals on Kalin's feet felt too loose; he felt they might fall off and had he had a hard time walking quickly enough to keep up. The sweat began to drip off his skin, though it hardly seemed to affect Cleran or Tiernan. He shuddered again.
"Sir Voice?" Tiernan asked politely. "Are you—"
"Not used to the heat. That's all," But it wasn't all. This was Arpiar—this was where he'd been a slave. And now his hair was white; once they passed other people... He had assurances he'd be safe, but nothing could save him from his memories.
The path wound up, away from the shore, and steeply up the cliff. And at the top, Kalin glanced down—
"Us or the cliff," Elthis said for a second time.
Kalin saw the sudden light of the moon overhead, felt it surround him. He felt Her, as though Her arm were extending to him. "Then I'll take the cliff," he said, actually going so far as to look Elthis in the eye. "Tell Serissa I love her."
"The cliffs are death."
"Then I'll die, Warrior," he said, nodding slightly. That was fine with him, now. "But I'll die fee."
He twirled and faced the dizzying abyss; saw the sea crash against the rocky shores below. He looked up and saw the moon again. And then he jumped.
He wanted to be ill, just from the memory. The sun beat down, he felt slightly faint. A pebble made its way inside his sandal and he stumbled.
"Kalin?"
"I didn't—I didn't realize how hard it would be to come back... here..."
The sun beat down, and Kalin fainted.
"Are you well?"
Kalin glanced up at Cleran, who was holding him up, and Tiernan, who was crouched next to him. He nodded. "Just... thirsty. I forgot how bad the heat gets." He shuddered. "I forgot a lot of things and wish I hadn't just remembered..."
"Kalin?"
"It's fine... It'll be fine." He finished the water. "Don't worry, I... I'll be fine."
Cleran gave him a doubtful look. "You hardly sound sure of that."
"I hardly feel sure of that. But I have no other choice, so I'll be fine." He sighed and then reached down to remove his sandals. "Can't walk in those damn things... The calluses will come back quickly enough."
Tiernan bit his lip, then noted, "Barefoot is a sign of... poverty."
"And slavery. Believe me, I know that. But I can't walk. When we meet other people, I'll put them on."
"Kalin—"
"Tiernan, I was a slave. I know how it looks. I have to walk." He pushed himself to his feet and tucked the sandals into his bag. The stones were warm under his feet as they started off again, and though they were sharp, too, he felt more surefooted.
Kalin glanced up at the cloudless black sky and felt oddly cold, despite the sun.
Oh, it felt nice to be home. Dysis shed the heavy cloak he'd worn in Kalatsu and stared around the Center Room. He was home. He was alive. At long last.
The few people in the room bowed. Dysis smiled—his parents had been waiting. And there was Arot and Ocan and—
—and Ocan's shadow. Dysis glanced over her for the first time, actually took in her feature. She looked somehow familiar now, but he shook the feeling off. Probably, it was just racial features, and he was now much more attuned to seeing Kalatsonian faces. But still...
"Holiness..." Arot murmured.
"It's good to be home." Dysis took a deep breath of the warm, heavy air. "There's much work to do—but I think first I'll take a few hours to recover." He bowed his head slightly and was lead from the room, his mother fawning on him and his father close at his heels. Arot kept pace with him; Ocan and Lisandra Alayrin followed further behind.
"We feared we'd never see you again..."
"I know." Dysis put a hand on his mother's shoulder. "But I'm safe—Cleran stood between me and danger. Always." He cast a look at his father, who said nothing. He continued, "But being home—thank God." As he reached his chamber he embraced his mother and kissed her cheek. "I'm home, Mama." To his father, a respectful nod, then to the others, "Arot, Ocan—in several hours I'll want a very detailed report. Miss Alayrin, a word please?"
Lisandra nodded and followed him inside. "Holiness?"
"Can you do some research for me?"
"Your wish is—"
"Thank you. I have... People to deal with who I need background information on. Former slaves, who I suspect were... documented."
She nodded. "Trial records, purchase records—"
"Good. The first calls himself Kalin Malistar, I can't identify his accent but he lost his hand—"
"Kalin?" she interrupted. "One-handed?"
"Yes... Do you—"
"Not yet, but I think I can work with that."
Dysis nodded, but something about Lisandra's reaction seemed... strange. But he continued, "The other is definitely documented; in Alayrin land at least, say, twenty years ago, he was marked for death, for murder. He escaped, but his brother was executed. His name is now Jall."
"I should be able to find a trial record, then. Any others?"
He shook his head no. "As quickly as possible, Lady, if you please."
"Of course, Holiness." She bowed and left Dysis to his own devices.
They finally reached the trees of the forest, which came as a relief to Kalin. The trees blocked the worst of the sun, the shade kept the heat at bay. He felt like he could breath again.
"The monastery is only several miles out of the way—perhaps it would be easier to ask them to put us up for the night," Tiernan suggested. "The rest of the trip is short, but if you'd like to recover before facing—"
"Would a monastery house me?" Kalin asked.
"This one would," Tiernan assured him. "My Uncle... Well. He would, and they listen to him."
"Your Uncle? ...High Lord Sanasset?"
Kalin sighed. "Then we may as well... I'll have to meet him shortly anyway."
[EYECATCH]
The monastery turned out to be a large stone lodge set in the forest, enough area cleared around it to allow sunlight in and a very small garden to provide self-sufficiency. The sect of monks who populated it was a minor religious offshoot; priests who believed in nonviolence and separated themselves from the main religion. Of course, their view was less than popular; this monastery was only allowed to operate openly because of the presence of High Lord Sanasset.
Tiernan was recognized on sight and greeted as a friend—an ally, a future protector and landlord. Cleran's introduction brought respect; his position as a Prophet and his hand in the Agreement commanded it.
But despite their nonviolent creed, Kalin was met with suspicion, fear, and barely masked hatred. In turn all he could give was calm acceptance, and he kept his head held high—he was a high priest, not a slave, and he moved with the semi-regal grace his position deserved.
And he simply pretended not to hear the head monk demand of Cleran why they had to house such an evil overnight. Cleran's response had left no room for argument, and had essentially consisted of Because I Say So, but even so, Kalin anticipated someone would spit in his food... But the monks agreed because they had no real choice in the matter. Between Tiernan and Cleran, Kalin's presence and safety were assured.
"Would you like to meet my Uncle before dinner?" Tiernan suggested, after the matter was settled.
"Well, it's more polite than shocking him at dinner," Kalin agreed, and Tiernan led him through the stone house out to a shaded back porch where, sitting in a rocking chair and gazing into the distance, was the achingly familiar and much aged figure of Taylin Sanasset.
"Lord Uncle?" Tiernan stepped onto the porch and over to his uncle, who glanced over, smiled, and waved.
"I'd heard you were kidnapped. Your mother was frantic."
"That wasn't quite what happened—though unplanned trips to Kalatsu seem to be something of a family tradition." Tiernan smiled. "I'm fine—serving special duty now, actually."
"Oh?"
"Indeed. Serving as a bodyguard to the Voice of Kaleal for the remainder of the negotiations."
"I see." Suddenly Taylin sounded more alert and more interested. "Please, tell me about him."
"Actually, Lord Uncle, you can meet him. He's, uh... Well, here."
"Here?"
Tiernan nodded and gestured for Kalin to join them. "Sir Voice, this is my great-uncle, High Lord Taylin Sanasset. Lord Uncle, this is the Voice of Kaleal, Kalin Malistar."
Taylin turned to examine Kalin, who stood as if frozen, and finally Taylin nodded. "Well, boy, you've moved up in the world."
"I certainly couldn't have moved farther down," Kalin answered, ignoring the slight insult.
"Have a seat." Taylin gestured to a spare chair, which Kalin accepted. "Tiernan, you may go."
"Due respect, Lord Uncle, as his bodyguard I have to keep him in sight at all times."
Taylin shot him an annoyed look, but nodded and turned back to Kalin, who commented, "And here I thought you'd be surprised."
"Hardly. I've heard you preach; I never doubted you'd be a priest. I knew your mother, so high priest is also not too surprising."
"And yet, you never to me you knew my mother."
"Excuse me—what?" Tiernan demanded, earning him irritated looks.
Taylin ignored him. "I did tell you, I just... Never mentioned that he was your mother."
"And mentioning it would have killed you?"
"The blackmail it would have given you might have."
"You think I'd have stooped so low?"
"You frequently stooped so low. Don't pretend you didn't."
"I did what I had to."
"So did I."
"You two... You know each other."
Kalin finally looked back at Tiernan and said, almost viciously, "A lifetime ago, I was his slave. He stood and watched as Elthis Aleann cut off my hand."
"A crime his manor paid for a thousand times over," Taylin spat back. "Blackmail I'd expect, I'd believe—but I never thought you'd go in for bloody revenge."
"I never did."
"Then explain the Massacre—boy."
"My name is Kalin Malistar," Kalin answered coldly. "But you, my Lord, may call me Sir Voice."
Taylin ignored that. "You'll answer my question if you want my support for your Agreement."
"You're going to sign the Agreement, Taylin."
"And you may call me Your Lordship."
"I may," Kalin answered, "but I probably won't."
"Are you sure you want to be so brazenly disrespectful to a potential ally?"
"I'm sure I want to be so brazenly disrespectful to you."
"Some things never change."
"Of course they do—now you can't punish me for it."
Taylin considered, then sighed. "Kalin—Sir Voice—just swear it wasn't revenge, and I'll believe it. I want to believe that."
"Goddess hear me, it wasn't," Kalin answered. "I wouldn't."
"Good," Taylin said, then added slyly, "Of course, you'll have to convince Lady Alayrin and her sons of that."
"I know. Goddess help me."
"You'll need Her help. Serissa Alayrin could argue with a Goddess and win."
"So I've come to understand. But I have an advantage my Goddess doesn't."
"Oh?"
Kalin nodded, and slipped back into his native language, knowing Taylin would understand it, but Tiernan wouldn't. "Unlike Kaleal, Serissa Alayrin once promised to listen to me."
"Riss." Lisandra let herself into her sister-in-law's room. "Dysis wasn't me to look up some quite interested information for him."
"Oh?"
"He asked me to see if there were any records documenting a slave calling himself Kalin—who was missing his left hand."
For a moment, Serissa Alayrin was caught off guard—but only for a moment. "Why?" she finally asked.
"It seems he's the high priest of Kaleal."
"That's impossible. The one-handed slave named Kalin died, escaping."
"That's what the record your father left said. Which makes this either a giant coincidence—or someone lied in the record."
"No," Serissa said stubbornly. "He died—I know he died."
"I remember, the manor was up in arms. But it's an awfully odd coincidence."
"Find out everything you can."
"Oh, I plan to. I take it I shouldn't alert Dysis to... What may be a very strange past on the part of Sir Malistar?"
"Thank you, Lis."
"I do what I can." Lisandra bowed and let herself out of the room, and Serissa settled back in her chair to think.
Kalin had died. He'd committed suicide to keep her father from killing him, preferring death by his own choice. But... She frowned slightly. His body had never been found, not even any remains. It was assumed it had washed out to sea... But Taylin had reappeared a day later, after having been kidnapped by Knights. He was in bad shape, but they had let him go without explanation.
His body must have washed out to sea, she told herself. She'd never let herself imagine anything else; the thought of Kalin being alive, but separated from her hurt too badly.
But if he'd survived...
She'd seen the cliff, though. Nothing could survive that fall; he'd have died hitting the ground—or even the water, from that height—even assuming he hadn't hit the jagged rocks of the shore. She shuddered, realizing what an unpleasant way that would be to die.
It had to be a coincidence. He couldn't possibly have survived. But a one handed, former slave named Kalin was a very odd coincidence.
[CLOSING CREDITS]