Tower of the Arkein: Kan Savasci Cycle Book 2, page 34
“Are you afraid?” she asked, with amusement in her voice.
“Of course not,” he said almost too quickly, “but you’re a woman.”
Thea scoffed, “You think, just because I’m a woman, that I can’t take care of myself?”
Aeden glanced about as if looking for a way to back away from his statement.
“Maybe?” he answered.
“So,” Thea continued, “What are you doing here?”
What could Aeden say? That he was practicing the gevecht, a secretive set of movements of a hidden martial art, now known only to him? That he had been trained to kill? That he had killed?
“Just stretching,” he said, slipping into a simple stretch.
Thea shook her head.
“Aren’t you afraid that a tarsier will come and bite you while you’re stretching?” She asked in a mocking tone.
Tarsiers were not much bigger than his hand, and nocturnal to boot.
“I doubt you could block one of my punches,” Thea said challengingly, thrusting out her chest.
Aeden remained silent. He didn’t know what to make of all of this. First, she questioned him. Then she mocked him. Now she was challenging him. It didn’t make any sense.
“Is this a trick?” he asked.
“So, you don’t think I could hit you, because I’m a woman?” she challenged.
“Well,” Aeden said, watching her more carefully.
Thea strode several steps closer. She was now within striking range, but her hands were casually by her side.
Aeden remained rooted to the spot. He watched her, but felt no fear.
Thea suddenly launched herself forward. She was quick. She must have trained or had brothers. Her form wasn’t horrible. Her balance was decent. But, Aeden had seen it coming a mile away.
Aeden took a half step back, cupping the wrist of her outstretched hand, and brushing it to the side. Thea followed with a second punch. Aeden flowed with the strike and pulled her about, spinning her into his arms. He now held her firmly. Her wrists were in his hands, and her body was pressed against his. Her hair tickled his mouth.
“Let me go,” she said firmly.
Aeden let her go and took a step back, confused. A hint of guilt stabbed at his insides.
“I knew it,” she said after a moment, a self-satisfied smile coming to her lips.
“Knew what?” Aeden asked slowly.
“You’re of the Thane,” she replied. “You were obviously from the Gwhelt, but the way you moved when fighting the Yeren…” her sentence trailed off.
Aeden remained silent. He felt like he was at a disadvantage. She now knew part of his history, where he was from, and all he knew of her was that she was from Gemynd, and possibly of a noble family.
Thea saved him from the silence.
“Are you competing tomorrow?” she asked.
“In the tafl tournament?”
Thea rolled her eyes, “Do you have some other tournament to attend?”
Aeden couldn’t help but smile. The whole situation had thrown him off. She had used her words then her body to off balance him. It was similar to movements within the gevecht. You pushed slightly to pull, or you feinted a punch to expose the midriff.
Thea had feinted, and Aeden had exposed a vulnerability. He was now stumbling to catch up.
Thea didn’t let up. “I don’t think you should win,” she carried on, as she swept some hair from her eyes.
Aeden fumbled for words.
“Why?” he asked, perplexed.
“Isn’t it obvious,” she sighed audibly.
“Should it be?”
Thea didn’t respond at first. Instead she looked up as if awaiting some hidden, divine guidance.
“You’re a show off,” she said.
“Thanks,” Aeden replied.
“Well, you are,” she continued, undeterred, “Since I have known you, which isn’t very long, mind you. You’ve bested a mythical beast, gained the three of us free admission to the University of Galdor, you’ve become the top of your class, and half the girls talk about you.”
Aeden caught her eye for a moment, a strange smile forming on his lips.
“Half the girls talk about me?”
“Stop,” she said forcefully, “and listen to my words,” she dragged out each word as if speaking to a half-deaf mute.
Aeden nodded his head, indicating he was listening.
“If you win, then the one thing Adel is good at will be taken from him,” she stated flatly, “Is that clear enough for your overly inflated head?”
Aeden nodded dumbly. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He simply tried hard to be the best. He didn’t much care if others saw him as cocky, he simply struggled against his hidden need for revenge.
“Good,” she said with her hands on her hips.
Thea fell silent and glared defiantly at Aeden, as if daring him to respond. Aeden didn’t. Instead, he simply watched as she turned and walked away.
Chapter 69
“Competition is a relic of a deadlier time.” History of Humanistics – Library of Galdor
Tafl Day had arrived and Aeden lay awake rummaging through his thoughts. Instead of a tranquil sleep, Aeden had been restless. His mind had laid awake as his body rested. It simmered and it seethed as hidden thoughts washed onto the sands of consciousness.
In an effort to rid himself of his incessant cogitation, he made his way to the glade. It had become a place of peace, a sanctuary from his excessive thinking. The gevecht had become the portal he used to clear his mind.
Yet, as Aeden ran through the forms, his mind refused to cooperate. As opposed to the lucidity of atori, he was stuck within a quagmire of thought. It anchored him to the past and pulled him scratching and clawing from the present.
He found himself glancing about the perimeter, searching for Thea. Was she watching? Would she interrupt him again?
It was a strange amalgam of emotion that had swelled against his chest. He felt annoyed that she had shared the same glade as him. He felt curious, wondering if she had been there the night before, looking through the same leafy canopy at the stars? Last, he felt a tinge of guilt.
Instead of dreaming of the archduchess, he found himself repeating the prior day’s interaction. He replayed her questions and expressions in his mind. With one thought surmounting the others; the recollection of her body pressed against his.
He could still feel the contours of her slim figure against him. He could still smell her, the faint scent of plumeria. Yet, he loved the archduchess. He craved her.
Aeden heard Devon’s voice in his head. It was nothing more than the counterargument he had stifled for so long. It swelled to the point of absurdity. Ignoring that inner voice was like ignoring the whispered truths that hid behind one’s daily mask.
“You crave the love of a woman, the way a freezing man craves the warmth of a fire. You have no loyalty, only desire. Admit it and be free.”
Halfway through the forms Aeden gave up. Even the pretense of trying was too much. His mind was clearly elsewhere. Aeden glanced about one final time before heading back to the University.
A murky cloud filled with remorse and regret churned about him. For all his learning, for all his reading, Aeden was lost. Obscured truths bubbled to the surface as quickly as he was able to stuff them back into their respective boxes. Aeden was running out of boxes.
He wandered through the thick foliage of the jungle, swatting at unseen bugs and cursing silently to himself for having bumped into a dead horse lily. The single, heart-shaped flower, shook loose its scent, filling the air with the stench of rot and death.
Aeden circled the male dormitory and followed a small animal path along the mighty Calenite pillars adjacent to the school’s entrance. Guilt trailed him like the invisible strands of a spider’s web.
The University gate stood before him, proud and tall. Behind him was the pathway leading to the stone bridge and to Imp’s Landing. For a moment, he contemplated walking back to the town and to the beach steps he had frequented on their first week in Galdor.
He had a sudden longing to gaze out at the azure waters of the bay. To watch the fishermen, ply their craft. To gaze upon the tall masts and broad hall of the half-sunken Millicent. Most of all, he simply wanted to listen to the soft crashing of the waves and feel the sun upon his skin.
But, today was Tafl Day.
Instead, Aeden milled about the courtyard as he made his slow, but eventual way to the dining hall.
Students were moving about in small groups. The women walked out of their dorm, and traveled the short distance to the school mess. The male students talked in loud voices, hoping to catch the attention of the women.
It was a non-too subtle dance of gaining attention, currying favor, and attempting to attract a mate. And for some reason it irritated Aeden.
For Aeden, it was a futile game. The woman he had fallen for was thousands of miles away. She was next in line for the throne of Bodig, and he was nothing more than a man one step removed from poverty. A man who had wandered in from the wild reaches beyond the Shrouded Mountains.
He fell into line behind a rather raucous group, only to discover why.
“Look who’s all alone,” an all too familiar male voice said, “did your friends leave you?”
It was Caine of course. It couldn’t have been any other.
For some reason, from Aeden’s very first day, Caine had marked him as an enemy. That bond of non-affection grew into a strange dance that was played whenever they crossed paths. Some would call it animosity. Others may have looked upon it as nothing more than the banter of youth. But for those who looked closer, there was the underlying foundation of hatred.
It was a hatred fueled by jealousy. A hatred underlined by a deep-rooted fear that was so pervasive that neither dared utter its name. Anger was far safer, and would become a far more dangerous outlet.
“Are you ready to lose the Tafl tournament?” Caine said, turning to encourage more laughter amongst his small group.
Aeden merely shrugged and looked elsewhere. He felt the slow boil of anger froth at his insides. He couldn’t allow Caine to see weakness. It was like exposing one’s belly to a wild animal.
Caine turned slightly red and his eyes narrowed. His ego wouldn’t allow another to ignore him. It demanded respect at all times and at any cost.
“Barbarian,” he said more loudly. Others in line turned around, and several seated, stopped their conversations to turn and look at them. “I asked you a question.”
Aeden turned to look behind him, as if Caine had directed the question elsewhere. He had already learned that insults rarely angered Caine as much as being ignored. He saw Thea approaching.
Her face was a mask of serious lines. Her body was taut, confident, and erect. Her hair was held back, save for a few lose strands that framed her face.
“Don’t you have anything better to do,” Thea said, stepping slightly in front of Aeden.
“Look,” Caine said, sneering, “Aeden needs a woman to fight his battles.”
“And you seem to have an incessant need to display your insecurities before the entire student body.”
Caine turned a darker shade of red, and whispered loudly, “If you weren’t a woman…”
“What?” Thea challenged loudly.
Aeden looked from the small form of Thea to the angry and larger Caine. Caine’s friends had all turned to face them. Gaurin wore a stupid smirk upon his face. Judd had an expression of disbelief and barely concealed anger.
To the left, the students sitting at the tables had grown silent. The pretense of faked conversations slipped away like a forgotten love.
“Stupid whore,” Caine muttered.
Aeden clasped onto the handle of his Templas blade before he had even realized what he was doing. Caine’s eyes grew wide, before narrowing and he turned his back, dismissively.
The line resumed its small march forward. Conversations resumed with a new fervor, as people gossiped and speculated. Yet again, word of Aeden and Caine’s interaction swept through the student body like some Dimutian infection.
His hand slipped from the handle of his sword, and the near boiling rage he had been feeling subsided. Standing before him was Thea. Her shoulders were tight and her fists were clenched.
He placed a hand on her shoulder.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Aeden said softly.
Thea remained rooted to the spot for a moment. She glanced back at him as if to speak. Then she came to her senses, and brushed his hand away as she moved forward toward the food tables.
Thea grabbed some fruit from the table and ambled away.
Aeden quickly grabbed some bread and eggs, before following her toward the far corner of the dining hall. He caught up to her and suddenly felt conscious of himself. All words escaped him.
They walked past a table of giggling girls. One waved, as several of them smiled. Were they smiling at him? Thea rolled her eyes. Aeden didn’t respond.
“Girlfriends of yours?” Thea asked sarcastically.
Her tone caught Aeden by surprise. It pushed him off balance and he didn’t know how to respond. It was strange, lately, he seemed to have a lesser ability to understand her, and an even lesser ability to formulate words around her.
Thankfully, Laurent’s reaching voice pulled him from his thoughts. It carried the way a howling monkey’s hollers claimed the night.
He looked toward the corner and caught sight of his friends as Laurent’s words carried to them.
“I think you have a real chance,” Laurent said, pointing his fork in Adel’s general direction.
Aeden and Thea approached the table. Daniel and John looked over at them, as Laurent continued to talk.
Thea slid onto the bench next to Daniel, opposite John and Laurent. Laurent sat with a leg folded under him and a bag next to him. Adel glanced back briefly and smiled, gesturing for Aeden to sit. It reminded him briefly of their time in the monastery.
Aeden took the seat, squeezing in between Adel and Thea.
“Watch your elbows barbarian,” she huffed quietly.
Laurent didn’t pay much attention and carried on his rant, “You’ve beaten all of us,” he said, now waving his fork about menacingly. “And we’re some of the best tafl players the University has to offer.”
“Modest as ever,” Dan cut in.
“I’m just saying it as it is,” Laurent retorted, “I’d be willing to wager a silver dinar that our boy Adel here wins.”
Daniel seemed to mull it over, as Aeden glanced at Adel.
“Deal,” Dan responded, shaking Laurent’s hand.
Adel wasn’t looking at anyone. He was picking at his food, but not eating much. Dan, however, was presently looking from Thea to Aeden.
“What’s up with you guys?” he asked, seeing Thea’s dark, brooding look, and Aeden’s serious expression.
“Caine,” Thea spat.
“He’s got a thing for you,” Laurent replied, looking at Aeden.
Daniel was now nodding in agreement. “It does seem that way. Every time he sees you he has something derogatory to say.”
“What was it he said last week,” Laurent inquired rhetorically, “Something like: ‘Hey churl, fetch me some water.’ And then you responded, ‘To drown you with?’” Laurent was now openly smiling, “When I had heard about your exchange, I couldn’t stop laughing.”
Dan looked up, “It’s true, and to see a naked man wandering around the dorms laughing is a disturbing sight.”
Adel nearly spit up some of his food. Thea looked moderately disgusted. John glanced up furtively.
“It beats your constant whistling,” Laurent replied, “what in the hells were you whistling last night anyway?”
“It was an old Bodigan Canticle,” Dan said.
“Canticle?”
“A song, melody,” Daniel stated calmly.
“Why can’t you just say that!”
John looked at them quizzically before staring oddly out the window. Adel was now openly smiling. Thea was watching Aeden eat, as Laurent leaned forward conspiratorially.
“Anyway, before you joined us, we were talking about the young prodigy here,” Laurent said, “Adel has a decent shot of winning the tournament.”
Adel shook his head modestly. His cheeks flushed slightly as he attempted to hide a smile. He clearly was enjoying the attention.
“I think he could take the whole tournament,” Thea said.
She looked at Aeden for a moment. He caught her gaze, and more importantly, the intense look, willing him to action.
“Absolutely,” he said rather forcefully.
Daniel uncrossed his arms and rubbed at his chin. Laurent looked about with his wide-set eyes, enthusiasm bleeding out of them like that of an overexcited child.
“It would be nice to see that smug face of his turn red in anger, and see Caine throw another one of his tantrums, especially in front of the masters,” Laurent said, clearly imagining the scenario playing out in his head.
The group lapsed into a moment of silence as they ate. Aeden finished his bread and was deshelling his eggs. Thea ate slowly, and properly. Laurent contrasted her by stuffing his mouth.
John raised his hand shyly.
“How many times do we need to tell you,” Laurent cut in, through a mouthful of bread, “You don’t need to raise your hand.”
“Let the man speak,” Daniel admonished.
John looked from Laurent to Dan, as if for permission.
“I was just wondering,” John began with a small cough, turning to look at Aeden, “If you’d solved your riddle?”
Aeden put down his fork.
“I solved it weeks ago…”
Thea cut him off with an audible sigh.
“…but,” he continued, “I hit a wall with it.”
Laurent and Dan were now also looking at Aeden.
“And…the answer was?” They asked almost simultaneously.
“The letter ‘e’,” Aeden replied.
John slowly raised his hand again. Thea rolled her eyes. Adel coughed to conceal a laugh.
“What in the seven hells does ‘e’ have to do with eternity and all that other stuff…” Laurent wondered aloud, carving into a piece of spikey fruit.
