Islana's Story
Lisandra Alayrin was not intimidated by the trappings of Dysis' office. She had grown up the daughter of a High Lord, and when her brother had taken over the title, she had often been the go-between for him and Dysis, and she had always admired and worked closely with Serissa as well. The result was that very little intimidated her, and High Priest or not, Lisandra had never walked into his office nervous.
It had taken Dysis a long time to realize that he appreciated that about her. When so many people bowed to his title, she didn't seem to care much about it; she was respectful, but not sniveling. And once he realized it wasn't a slight, it became refreshing; she was one of the few people willing to give him an honest opinion.
She came to him clutching old documents, but he put them aside for the moment.
"If the Agreement goes into effect, will I have a revolt on my hands?"
Lisandra raised an eyebrow and sat in one of the ornate chairs opposite his desk. "That depends on how you handle the Lords, Holiness."
"Thank you for that insight." He rolled his eyes slightly. "Do you think they'll... be cajoled into this?"
"You'll either have to force them, or give Lords Dalasans and Terassas quite a compensation. The ranked Lords are too afraid of losing their titles, after Cleran's threats; they can be convinced if their High Lords are." She tapped the documents she'd brought, but continued to speak anyway. "And from what I've heard, Holiness, Erra Kelanister's personal army is ready to invade at any moment should the Lords not accept their terms."
Dysis stared. "Where did you hear that?"
She raised an eyebrow. He sighed. Lisandra heard things, and he had never figured out who was sending her information without sending it to him, but she also had never let him know.
"I have some of the information you asked for, Holiness," she said instead of answering him. He picked up the documents—old papers, an official seal at the end, he noticed before bothering to read the text. "One of the slaves you asked about—marked for death, escaped, and executed anyway. I can only assume that this was the case where his brother was substituted, since there's no record of him being caught after his escape. And it fits the timeframe and the location you gave me."
He glanced at the documents. "The slave had a mother and a sister, aside from his twin."
She nodded; her research had been fairly extensive. "His mother was sold; I wasn't able to trace her record any further. His sister was also sold; she had two daughters."
"Do you know—"
"One died quite young; the other was raised to be a shadow."
"For?"
"Lord Ocan Candison, Holiness."
And suddenly, Dysis knew why Ocan's shadow had seemed so familiar since his return from Kalatsu.
[OPENING CREDITS]
Episode 25: Reunions
Kalin had trouble sleeping that night. He had strange dreams that were half-memories and his feet ached from scrapes he'd picked up while walking. In his dreams he saw faces; he saw Taylin, much younger, he saw the blurry memory of his mother, of the one time he'd seen a Warrior on his own Island. He'd thought he'd imagined that memory for a long time; it wasn't until he'd escaped that he'd discovered it had really happened. A Warrior had come to his house, had spoken with his mother.
He dreamed of Serissa and Elthis Alayrin, he dreamed his still had his hand. He dreamed of her kiss, of a life that never could have happened, and he dreamed of falling.
When he awoke, it was before dawn, and he couldn't sleep. As the sun slowly crept up, he forced himself out of bed, feeling his age. His feet ached and the long-healed stump of his hand tingled from the dream. He rubbed it slightly and dressed, and waited for Tiernan before leaving his room.
Breakfast was quiet and subdued, and he supposed that was largely due to his presence. Not that the priests were likely to be the most talkative group on the Island, but the meal was made entirely of sideways glances and no speech, until Taylin announced he'd be accompanying their group to the manor.
Kalin couldn't decide if that came as a relief or a hindrance, largely because he couldn't decide if Taylin wanted to help him or keep an eye on him. But Taylin's presence also meant that they'd be traveling by carriage, which was significantly more comfortable than walking, although Kalin still found it rather jarring. He'd never managed to get over his loathing of horses, a side effect of a forced ride when he was a slave; and though the carriage road smoother, he still almost would have preferred to walk.
But it was definitely cooler in the carriage, and his feet were sore.
The curtains of the carriage stayed shut, though. The sun was too bright and as they exited the forest, Kalin didn't want to see the fields, or the slaves working. But he could hear.
It was nothing at first, but then, abruptly, someone yelling. It cut through the awkward quiet and Kalin felt himself go tense. Taylin had been drifting off; his eyes shot back open and Tiernan watched carefully.
"Kalin?" Taylin asked finally.
Kalin didn't answer, merely mumbled a prayer under his breath.
"Kalin... It's not you. You're free," Taylin said. "Free."
"I know," Kalin said hoarsely. "But it doesn't matter. It was me, it is someone now, it doesn't... I..." He shook his head. "I don't know how I'm going to face the manor."
"Be strong." Taylin shrugged. "You've never had a problem with that before."
"I'm a lot older now."
"So am I," Taylin pointed out, the quietly, "and so is she."
"I don't know who you're talking about," Kalin answered dryly.
Dysis walked softly, but even so, the shadow heard him coming and turned to watch—looking down at the floor as soon as she saw who it was. But still, he walked towards her and she raised her gaze slightly when he clearly was waiting for her.
"Um... Can I help you, Holiness?"
"Perhaps." He put a gentle hand on her arm. "Take a walk with me for a minute. Are you waiting for Lord Ocan?"
"Yes, your Holiness," she answered.
"I won't keep you long, then," he promised. "Could you tell me about your mother?"
"Excuse me, Holiness?"
"Do you remember her?"
"I, uh... I'm not sure what you're asking, Holiness."
"I'm just curious about your family, is all. If you remember them at all?"
She shook her head. "I haven't seen my mother since I was... In a long time, Holiness. I don't remember her..."
He nodded. "Do you remember any other family members at all?"
"No, Holiness."
"Did you ever think about them? Wonder?"
"Of course, Holiness."
"What did you... Wonder?"
"Holiness..."
"Please, you can trust me."
"I wondered if... If I had a family. If they knew about me."
"They don't," he answered.
"Holiness?"
"You have one living relative," he explained. "His name is Jall; he's a Knight on Kalatsu."
"Oh."
"'Oh,'?" he quoted. "That's all you can say?"
"Holiness, I..."
"He's your uncle."
"Oh."
"Well?'
"Holiness... I..."
"I'd like to arrange for you two to meet. If that's all right with you?"
"I... I mean, yes, Holiness. I'd be... I never thought..." She shook her head, and Dysis noted she was blushing slightly. "This is very kind of you, Holiness. But Lord Ocan..."
"I'll discuss it with him; I'm sure he'll understand."
"Thank you, Holiness. Thank you," she breathed. "You... You don't know how much it means to me. Holiness."
"I know how much it will mean to him," Dysis answered. "I'll let you and Ocan know when arrangements are made."
Kalin hated that he knew Aleann manor so well. He hated that the moment the carriage crossed past the gate and onto the land, he began to recognize things. The main path, the old trees on either side. The bridge and the stream that babbled underneath it. And finally, the manor house itself.
But worse was the way it had changed. Worse was seeing the memorials, hung to either side of the path; worse was seeing the ruins where buildings had collapsed and been left, out of respect or simply because no one remained who could rebuild them, for so long.
All able-bodied men, slaughtered.
He didn't know if it was the memories or the mental image of the Massacre that made him start to feel ill again. He shut his eyes and murmured a prayer, then habitually rubbed his good hand over the stump of his wrist. He thought of Kaleal and Erra and Jall, and of all the people who he'd known who had died over the years, and he gathered his strength.
His face was a mask of strength by the time the carriage finally stopped. Tiernan exited first, his face grim, and Kalin followed; a monk who served as Taylin's aide helped the ailing Lord from the carriage as well. Taylin needed the aide's support to walk, and Kalin tried to work out just how old Taylin truly was.
Probably one of the oldest men alive. He had been in his forties when Kalin had been a slave; nearly forty years ago. And given the number of times Taylin had stared down death and come out alive, his age was impressive.
They were greeted by a steward, who gave Kalin a look that was somewhere between terror and hatred. "Her Ladyship has left orders for you to be given her quarters," he said finally. "A courtesy I hope you appreciate."
"Her Ladyship is very kind; perhaps those who work for her should take after her example," Tiernan answered.
The steward glared, but nodded. "Of course, Lordship."
He led the way inside, and the memories threatened to overwhelm Kalin again, but he pushed them aside. He walked out of reflex, but tried to act as though he didn't know the route they were taking.
Kalin was given a room next to the Healer's suite, and Kalin was led to the room that had once belonged to Lord Elthis Aleann.
"Her Ladyship and sons should be here by this evening. The rest of the Lords plan to follow the next day."
Kalin nodded, and Tiernan cleared his throat. "You ought to respect your Lady's honored guests, sir."
"Not even her Ladyship can force me to respect a murderer, Lordship." The steward turned and left sharply.
Tiernan turned to Kalin apologetically, but saw Kalin wasn't even watching the steward's exit. Instead, he was staring at the painting that hung above the decadently huge bed. Tiernan recognized it quickly as one that Lady Serissa had painted herself; several of her paintings hung in the keep where he'd grown up, and he recognized her style.
The painting showed a young man with white hair that flowed to below his shoulders, looking wild. He was facing away, glancing back over his shoulder, and smiling just slightly. But his clothes were rags.
Tiernan raised an eyebrow. He'd never seen this painting before. And why Serissa would have—or have painted—a slave, or a Priest of Kaleal, he didn't understand. But Kalin appeared fascinated.
"Sir Voice, are you...?"
"Did Lady Alayrin paint that?" he asked.
Tiernan nodded. "How did you know?"
"I've... Asked informants to tell me as much as they can about her. One mentioned she painted."
"Ah."
"Do you know..." He shook his head. "Did she ever mention this painting to you? Do you know when she did it?"
"Sorry, no. I can ask a few friends, if you'd like."
"Yes, please."
"If it offends you..."
"No, it's... It's fine." Kalin nodded. "Your Lady is quite talented."
"Perhaps you can ask her about it yourself, when she arrives this evening."
Kalin nodded again, slowly. "Perhaps I will."
[EYECATCH]
"It's a gesture of goodwill, Ocan."
"It's bullshit, Holiness. No offense."
Dysis sighed. "Ocan, you know I would never lightly ask you to give up someone who... Who means so much to you."
"You just did."
"No. Not lightly." Dysis folded his hands and gave Ocan a serious look, wishing he was older, or that Ocan hadn't been given such a dark, commanding edge in battle. When Ocan opposed him, it always made him feel inadequate. "I asked you to accompany me to this meeting because you're the most qualified to do so. And I ask you to part with your Shadow because it's important not to offend the Voice—her presence..."
"And I told you, I would leave her at my household."
"A gesture of goodwill, Ocan. She'll be freed soon enough anyway."
"Over my dead body." Ocan clenched a fist, and Dysis recoiled.
"I hope it doesn't come to that, Lord Candisson." He managed to keep his voice even. "And I came to ask you this as a favor. I didn't want it to come to giving orders."
"Think very carefully before you make any orders, Holiness," Ocan answered, just as evenly. "You wouldn't want to regret them later."
"Better to regret being too cautious than regret the consequences of not showing enough caution."
"This is a slight I won't forget."
Dysis spread his hands on the table. "It isn't an insult, Ocan. But this is a time when I need allies I can rely on—I had hoped you would be in that group. If not, so be it."
"And what if I disobey your orders?"
"I will have the Church seize the slave in question, an act of mercy to rescue her from mistreatment. I will free her myself and allow her to choose a name, and provide for her trip to Kalatsu. And I will send a description of your disobedience to Lady Alayrin and allow her to decide if it's a punishable offence."
"An act of mercy?"
"If I must." Dysis leaned forward, picking up his hands and lacing his fingers together. "But I had hoped to count you as a friend."
"Very well," Ocan snarled. "Take the slave if some old Knight's goodwill is so important to you—but you've lost my goodwill. I hope you won't take that too lightly, Holiness."
"Thank you for your understanding," Dysis answered. "Where is she?"
"My quarters."
"Then you're dismissed; please send her to me immediately."
Ocan left without further acknowledgement, and Dysis waited. He glanced at several letters he'd received, but decided they weren't of consequence, and shut his eyes for a moment of reflection. He only opened them again at the hesitant knock on his office door, and he called for the knocker to enter.
Ocan's slave—former slave now—let herself in and stood nervously in front of him.
"Your Holiness, I was told I was... Summoned. If you wish anything of me, I—"
"Have a seat, please." He gestured at one of the chairs opposite his desk and she took the one Ocan had vacated. "You remembered I said I'd arrange for you to meet your uncle?"
"Yes, Holiness."
"I managed to do a step better." Dysis gave her a quick, almost playful smile. "Miss, I'd like to congratulate you—as we prepare for the Agreement to go into effect, you're the very first slave to be granted your freedom."
He waited for a reaction.
It seemed to take several seconds for what he said to penetrate, and her eyes went wide. "Holiness... I... I don't know what to, to, say. I don't know what to do, I don't... I never dreamed..."
"I'd like to start calling you by name, miss. As soon as you've decided what that is."
She raised a hand to her lips and covered her mouth, and Dysis suspected she was slightly in shock. "Thank you, Holiness," she finally murmured. "You're... You truly are a man of your God, of everything He's supposed to be."
"Thank you. Now, in an hour or so I'm expecting a communication from Kalatsu; when the messenger comes to drop it off, you're more than welcome to leave with him and meet your uncle. He... Hasn't been told of your presence, yet."
"Thank you," she breathed again.
"I'll walk with you to the Healer's quarters; there's a young slave there who can translate everything I've just said for the Knight who brings the report."
He stood, and she echoed him; he put a warm arm around her and led her out of his office.
Ocan Candisson, he thought, could probably be a powerful enemy.
But Jall surely was a more powerful ally.
And anyway, it was the right thing to do.
Her name, she decided, was Klea. It meant moon, the healer slave told her, as they waited. They sat in the Center Room, where the rug had finally been taken up for good, to leave open the frequently used mouth of the Tunnel. It felt like hours before the stones of the trap door dropped out, and a young man whose black hair was streaked white pulled himself up.
He greeted the healer slave in Kalatsu's language, which Klea didn't understand at all. The slave accepted a parcel from him, and handed him the bundled papers from Dysis, and then gestured to Klea. He spoke, and she could pick out her name, but that was all.
The Knight nodded and gestured her over, ran a hand through her hair and kissed her forehead lightly, then gestured down at the tunnel. She nodded and a wave of nerves washed over her, but she dropped into the tunnel and landed hard on a padded matt. The Knight followed her and shut the trap door, and the darkness felt so total she almost panicked, but then his sword began to glow.
She watched the glow spread and heard him speaking quickly and quietly, and then he pointed urgently at the glowing wall. She bit her lip and stepped through it, and felt as though she was being pulled apart—and then abruptly it stopped, the temperature had dropped, and she felt ill and shaky. But the Knight supported her and opened the door that led up into... Somewhere.
It turned out to be a kitchen, where another Knight stood waiting. But when she looked at his features, she saw something of her own in them. And he must have noticed it too, because he just gaped for a moment.
"Hello," he finally said, his voice raspy, but at least he was speaking a language she knew.
The Knight who had taken her through the tunnel began to speak again, and the older Knight nodded, and then turned to her.
"You're my... my niece," he said quietly, nearly silent. "My sister's daughter."
"I... I think so."
"I never knew..." He shook his head in wonder. "I couldn't find her. I went back for her and my brother, I did. But he was dead and I never found her... I never dreamed she had a family."
"I don't remember her."
"You look..." He smiled. "You look so much like her, and like our mother..." He paused, and finally held out his arms, and she stepped over to him and let him hold her. It felt so odd, being held like that by a stranger, but he was so gentle and seemed almost scared. "I never knew I had a family," he murmured, nearly in her ear. "I never knew."
"I never knew either. I never hoped."
He drew away enough to look at her. "Goddess," he murmured. "Please, I... I'll take you to the Palace. Erra keeps a room for me there; I'm certain he'd keep one for you, too."
"Erra?" she asked. "Erra... Kelanister?"
"I'm sure he'll be just as... as pleased to meet you as I am, Klea."
She shook her head in wonder. Her freedom, her uncle and now Erra Kelanister in less than a day. But she felt safe and comfortable as her uncle held her hand lightly and led her out of the room.
The hours passed slowly, and Kalin passed them by alternately pacing and then meditating; working up nervous energy and then calming himself. Tiernan watched from a chair near the door with a permanent expression like he wanted to ask Kalin what was wrong, or occasionally snap at him to just calm down already, but he didn't speak. The only break in the heavy, awkward silence came when the steward brought them lunch.
Kalin didn't comment on how the steward was serving them instead of the slave he'd usually have sent to do the chore; the steward glared at him some more, but didn't speak. Kalin didn't thank him, but Tiernan did.
And after lunch was finished, more pacing and more meditating as Kalin waited for the evening. Word was sent that Lady Alayrin's caravan had crossed onto the manor's land and she was a mere fifteen minutes away, which prompted Kalin to dress quickly. His formal clothing was much heavier than the light, informal outfit he'd had on most of the day; it was lighter than he'd have worn on Kalatsu, and made of a much more delicate fabric, but he still felt overheated. At least the midday sun had passed and was on its way down, taking the worst of the heat with it. But that was hardly enough to be thankful for.
Tiernan walked with Kalin down to meet the carriage outside the house; Taylin, still with his aide, met them en route. If anyone noticed that Kalin knew where he was walking, no one commented until they reached the outdoor landing. "This should be interesting, if nothing else," Taylin murmured.
Kalin didn't answer, as they watched the ornate carriage approach. He felt his heart begin to beat faster, and nerves flared up in his stomach, making him almost ill.
The horses were reigned in and the carriage pulled to a stop. The footman who'd been driving stepped down, opened the door and lowered a step, and then she stepped out.
Kalin's heart stopped. The world froze for a moment.
Serissa Alayrin was striking in a way most women—most humans—weren't. Her features had been pretty when she was younger; now they were sharper and more severe, but that served to give her a statuesque beauty she hadn't had before. Her dress was lush gold fabric over a deep red bodice, and a golden circlet sat in her hair. Her eyes glinted in the sunlight that had finally begun to dim, and then they caught Kalin's.
For just a moment, Serissa's stoic mask faltered and another expression—nearly unreadable—crossed her face. But then the polite smile was back, and time started up properly again.
Kalin bowed, as did Tiernan, next to him. Taylin nodded his head politely, but was unable to bow properly anymore.
Serissa fell into a gracious curtsey and then stepped forward. Her sons stepped from the carriage behind her, and the older of the two stepped up to take her arm. She leaned into him, just slightly, and let him support her as they walked forward.
"My Lady," Taylin murmured.
"My Lord," she answered formally, as Tiernan took a slight step forward. "My Lord," she said again.
"Your Ladyship." He bowed again, his formal training taking over and causing him to acknowledge her superior station. "I have the honor to introduce the Voice of Kaleal, Kalin Malistar."
Kalin stepped forward. Serissa held out a hand with her jeweled wedding ring still on one finger. He accepted it with his good hand, leaned forward and gently laid his lips against it. He straightened again. "The honor is all mine, your Ladyship."
"You're too kind, Sir Voice." She tightened her grip on her son's arm. "Perhaps we might head inside? I've had a very long, trying trip, Sir Voice."
"Of course." He stepped aside and gestured to the door, and her sons led her inside.
Kalin turned to follow her, and felt Taylin's hand on his shoulder. "Try not to stare so obviously, Kalin," he murmured in Kalin's own language. "She's dangerous, you know."
Kalin took a deep breath. "I know," he murmured, as her golden dress began to disappear down the hall. "I just have to wonder..."
"Wonder?"
Kalin shook his head slightly. "Nothing important. After you, Lord Taylin."
[CLOSING CREDITS]