Chapter 4 #2
She merely sighed and stood, wobbling without her cane as she pointed it at him. “You will crumble under its pressure. One day, you will have to decide your fate, one not even the great Ovrus, God of Destiny, can predict.”
Theo’s breath quickened before the frail priestess. “My fate is already decided—”
“No one’s fate is certain. You may have lived through this war, but will you survive the next?” She turned, the echo of her cane bouncing off the stone walls.
Theo couldn’t speak. Another war? He couldn’t live through another one. The sheer agony of the loss alone would bring him to his knees.
Before she disappeared into the dark, she took one last look at him. “Pray for your miracle, Theodoric. It might be closer than you think.”
He didn’t wait for her to retreat before he took off through the temple and threw open the doors. Huffing, he leaned into one of the stone pillars to ground himself. What had she meant by another war? Were the sailors on the docks the beginning?
“That was longer than expected.”
Theo whirled. Esaias seated himself on the stone monument marking Ateus’s temple with his leather boots caked in mud dangling off the side. He raised his brows and smirked.
“That is sacred.” Theo pointed to the slab of stone Esaias was defiling with his close proximity.
Esaias gazed down at the stone and shrugged before he hopped off. He didn’t sway, nor did he have a permeating smell of alcohol.
“You weren’t at the tavern?”
“Taverns are for celebrating. We discovered members of the Accords on our waters, and three of our soldiers have been sent to Duncaster’s mystique for healing, who I hear is inexperienced and lacks the proper training.”
“At least they have a mystique,” Theo countered.
Luana’s old mystique had traveled with them across the waters to aid in treating the wounded, but he hadn’t been among the people who’d returned. He’d been killed two years in, when Mosfelkov forces hit an infirmary. It’d been disgraceful, but Theo had known they were merciless.
“Is that who you went to pray for? Old Cornelius Wellins?”
“You know that’s not who I prayed for.” Theo’s hand trembled at the thought of whose name he’d muttered at the god’s feet. He grasped his shaking hand and attempted to massage the muscles to keep Esaias from noticing. He failed.
“You don’t have to hide it from me. We do share a bedchamber wall back home.”
Theo turned from him. Esaias was the only one who knew about the nightmares, but not out of choice.
He’d been at Theo’s side when they first flooded his mind in the infirmary during the war.
Esaias had witnessed his screams, but Theo couldn’t bring himself to tell him what happened in Oystein Castle.
Theo had failed as an officer. He would take it to his grave, as should’ve happened that night.
“I’ve heard you a few nights since you’ve been home. When did they come back?”
A long period of time had gone by when sleep had been scarce and, with it, the nightmares.
He’d assumed it’d been easier to stuff down any lurking worries with Gris and Esaias by his side when he returned to the fighting after he’d been healed.
By the time the war had ended, Theo could count on one hand the number of dreams he’d had.
Luana’s forces had come back to Godwin in a trickle.
Esaias had seen the walls of their home a season before Theo had, but the first thing Esaias had uttered to Theo upon his return was How are you doing?
Theo had assured his cousin he was well and ready to come home, but that night, a nightmare had woken him from a restless sleep.
Theo returned his gaze to Esaias, but there wasn’t a glower or a tap of a foot waiting for his response. “A few weeks ago,” he confessed.
Esaias leaned against the monument and rubbed a thumb along his shadowed jaw. “It’s different now. It doesn’t feel like it used to three years ago.”
No, it doesn’t. It felt an eternity and only a few moments had passed all in one, but he knew Esaias didn’t mean Duncaster.
Luana Bay had been Theo’s home for all his life and Esaias’s for most Sunreign seasons until he turned eighteen and moved there permanently.
That had been eight years ago, but Theo still had the catch of breath when the season changed and feared Esaias would leave with the warm weather.
“Do you ever wonder if it was worth it?” Esaias asked.
Theo stared at his cousin. He was a strong warrior with years of sparring and training to build his strength. The years of war rations had trimmed a bit of his childhood fat, but it only added to the number of women flocking to him at night.
“It wasn’t,” Theo whispered coldly.
“I’m not ready for another war,” Esaias blurted out.
“There won’t be one.” It felt like a lie after what the high priestess had said, but Theo couldn’t afford to believe her ramblings.
He spotted something glowing on the edge of the towering buildings.
He narrowed his gaze to a person shrouded in a dark cloak, with serpents wrapping their boots.
His hand slid to his empty belt where his pouch had once hung.
The thief. His pouch had been secured tightly and wouldn’t have fallen off in the tumble. They’d cut it off.
“What are you looking at?”
“I think I found the person who stole my pouch,” Theo whispered.
He stepped off the path to avoid the detection of the streetlamps and slipped through the darkness.
The thief was short and nimble, hiding in the shadows of a cask or crate.
Esaias slipped his dagger into his hand as they made their approach.
Theo motioned for Esaias to circle around to cut off an escape before he palmed his own dagger.
He took a deep breath and followed the thief.
Periodically, they glanced over their shoulder, but they were unaware of Theo’s presence.
He lurked closer, getting a better view of the scoundrel as he followed them into an alley.
The clattering of a rubbish bin startled Theo, and a silverling jumped from the bin and took off down the alley.
Theo tracked its silver movements until his eyes caught sight of the thief as they stared back at him before taking off.
Theo raced after them, splashing through puddles as he turned down a back alley between the tight buildings. His breath was warm, but the air was hotter and burned his lungs. A coppery taste seeped into his mouth as he raced faster.
The thief was light on their feet, shifting into various forms as the light of streetlamps and backdoors came into view and shunned them to the shadows.
They vanished once again into the darkness, but Theo heard a clattering and continued his pursuit.
The thief climbed over a pile of crates and jumped over a tall wooden fence.
Theo didn’t think twice before he scaled the fence and hurtled himself to the other side to continue his pursuit. The thief looked back and accelerated.
Theo rounded the corner, but only a single circle of luminescence stood in the alley. He took a moment to catch his breath, but a stifled scream raised the hair on his arms. Esaias pulled the thief from the shadows with his arm wrapped around their neck and his dagger pressed against their abdomen.
Their hood slipped. The thief was a woman who couldn’t have been any older than them.
She revealed a youthful face, with black hair pulled into double braids and freckles scattering her sunburnt cheeks below golden eyes.
Not a hint of fear hid behind her gaze. Her eyes navigated to the dagger in Theo’s hand, raising a brow.
Something within her eyes brought a sense of déjà vu over him.
“I suggest giving him his pouch back.” Esaias’s voice had lost all its humor and was laced with lethal warning.
“How do you know I have it?” she snapped. Esaias strengthened the grip his arm held, and she winced. “Alright!” She reached into her cloak.
Theo raised his dagger, but she only retrieved his pouch, tossing it at his feet.
Theo pushed the woman’s glare from his mind and squatted to grab the pouch without taking his eyes off her. A quick glance showed not a single hilt or glimmer of a sword poking out from underneath her cloak, but it didn’t mean a dagger wasn’t hidden somewhere on her person.
“Are you going to arrest me?” she asked, struggling in Esaias’s hold.
Theo rifled through the pouch, not bothering to count the silver and gold pieces but to feel his hand grasp around the small painting at the bottom. Relieved, he stood and gripped the buckle of his belt.
“Depends,” Esaias said.
“On what?” the stranger asked.
“You help us, and we’ll help you.”
Theo shot Esaias a piercing glare. What could she offer them?
Esaias released his hold around her neck, leaving her standing between them and two solid brick walls. She would have to take one of them down to escape.
The woman crossed her arms and flashed a scowl. “I don’t need your help.”
“Our help will be keeping you out of prison. How does that sound?” Esaias gloated, swirling his dagger in the air as he pointed it at her.
The thief gritted her teeth, her eyes turning to small slits. “Fine.”
“Smart,” Esaias said. “What can you tell us about these disappearances?”
Her rebellious demeanor faltered, but she quickly regained her control. “I haven’t a clue what you mean.”
Well, if that isn’t obvious.
“Why did you steal from him?” Esaias asked. “And why stop him on the docks?”
“You’re not from here, are you?” she asked, exchanging glances with both of them.
“No,” Esaias admitted, but a smirk crossed his features.
Theo shook his head.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?”
She rolled her eyes. “Isabel.”
“Esaias.” He extended a hand, but Isabel didn’t take it. She glared at the gesture. Flattery wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “Well, Isabel, I’m sure you’ve heard ramblings about what’s going on in Duncaster. Everyone else has.”
Steady, Esaias. Theo internalized his caution, but they couldn’t incite panic by divulging what they knew about the incident on the docks.
“I don’t care to take part in gossip.”
Theo’s hand rubbed at the stubble along his chin, watching the break in Isabel’s solid expression. Her left eye twitched, her fingers dug into the crook of her elbow.
Esaias cocked his head, narrowing his gaze. “You know.” His fingers coiled tighter around the hilt of his dagger. “What’s happening to the tenants going missing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Isabel sputtered.
Esaias took a step closer. “Oh, I think you do. Tell us, or we can’t help you.”
Isabel’s eyes wandered, glimpsing the darkness surrounding them and their daggers trained on her. “What’s in it for me?” She eyed the pouch now strapped tightly to Theo’s belt.
Theo could barely contain his shock. She robbed me and now wants a cut of my silver? He opened his mouth to protest, but Esaias beat him to it.
“Not going to happen.”
“Then I can’t help you.” She crossed her arms and turned her nose up at him. “Besides, I’d never help fastida nobles.”
“Careful what you say,” Theo warned, stepping closer.
“The big man does speak.” She grinned. “Do I look or sound like I hail from Deavopan or Bazrath?”
Theo knew she was right. Her fair skin wouldn’t fare well in the tropical climates, but it didn’t mean her allegiances hadn’t transferred elsewhere.
“How do you know we’re—”
“You wear the dagger of a Fastrada noble.” She eyed Theo, then turned back to Esaias.
“And your physique is far too impressive to have come from anywhere near here with our starving bellies.” She rubbed her flat stomach and gave them a mocking smile.
“Duncaster is struggling, and soon we’ll be set to ruin while you fancy nobles live your life of luxury. ”
Esaias gripped her arm and began dragging her back to the street.
“What are you doing?”
“You don’t plan on helping us, so I’m only doing my duty as a fancy noble and escorting you to your new quarters.” His own mockery of a smirk rivaled Isabel’s.
Theo followed closely behind, in case she had any ideas and tried to break free.
They reached the town center, and Theo and Esaias dragged Isabel, kicking, into the jail housing five cells, all but two occupied.
A fellow soldier came to their side. He shackled her wrists as she fought against their hold.
“You’ll regret this,” Isabel spat.
Esaias wiped her spit from his cheek and shoved her into the first cell. “It would seem there are a few obstacles in your way now.”
“Aslorn per de eclahard!” Isabel screamed, grasping the bars in her desperate attempt to hurtle herself at Esaias.
“Careful which tongue you throw around. Wouldn’t want you to further incriminate yourself.” Esaias turned to the soldier filling out her forms. “What is the punishment for treason? Still hanging? Sorry, I’ve been away fighting in the war. We didn’t have time for trials.”
Isabel’s face paled and her hands slid from the bars.
Aslorn per de eclahard. The phrase sounded familiar to Theo, but it wasn’t Tendasy.
Was she fluent in multiple languages? It could’ve been Gorrin, the old language of Godwin spoken mostly in song or in private dwellings, but it also could’ve been one of the dozens of languages scattering the Black Sea.
Theo had studied many, but there were always phrases or words that were ancient and hardly used in everyday vocabulary.
Esaias set to signing the forms of Isabel’s arrest while she sat in the corner of her cell and hugged her knees to her chest. Theo couldn’t help but see Adelaide in her.
She was probably a few years older than his sister, maybe someone else’s sister.
He wished she would pick her head up so he could catch another glimpse of her eyes, but she remained with her forehead pressed to her knees as she mumbled in prayer.
They left with a nod to the soldier and in the direction of the inn, but Theo knew he wouldn’t sleep the rest of the night. An uneasiness settled over him at leaving her in that cell, but she’d stolen from him. As a soldier of Luana, it was his duty to enforce the laws.
She wouldn’t be tried for treason for stealing, but her use of Tendasy when she’d called him a bastard was dangerous after the circumstances of the morning.
Then again, it was likely no one knew the reason for the fight.
Whoever knew the language could still speak it without having committed any crime.
Still, she’d taken one of the few possessions he truly cared for, and he didn’t know what would’ve come over him if he’d never seen it again.