Chapter Twenty-three Aspect of Strength #2
“I lost my sword,” the Prince said thickly, “but I found it again.”
“It wasn’t your sword,” said Elder Crane, hands folded behind his back, a strange look on his face. “It was Aemon’s.”
“But… how was I even able to touch it? Leah told me it was buried where he died because they couldn’t move it.”
Crane looked at him for a long moment before glancing at both Tomaz and Leah.
“I will now tell you something that I must ask you not to repeat outside this room. It is information that is known only to the Council of Elders, and perhaps a handful of others. I would ask eshendai Goldwyn and ashandel Banier to leave, but what I have to say concerns them, too.”
The Elder took a deep breath as if steeling himself.
“It concerns your father.”
Fire shot through the Prince’s body, gathering in his fingers and toes and lifting the hair on his arms and neck. His vision narrowed in on the Elder to the exclusion of all else. The fuzzy feeling in his head was replaced with the sharp, cold sense of a well-honed razor.
“My father?”
The Elder nodded. “Twenty years ago, your father was sent on a mission to the Empire.”
“Mission?”
“Yes. He and his ashandel partner were Rogue scouts.”
“He was… my father was an Exile?”
Crane nodded.
“One of our most skilled Spellblades, born here to Exiled parents. His father died before he was born, and his mother, your grandmother, died in childbirth. He was raised by all of the Kindred, as our orphans are; he was everyone’s son, everyone’s brother.
He was the last of his line, and he was treated with respect because he showed such promise.
“It was thought that he died on his mission to Lucien. The last report we had from him and his ashandel said that they were infiltrating the Fortress itself. He no doubt sent it when he did knowing we wouldn’t be able to stop him.
He was smart and headstrong, and in the years since I have often thought that we should have waited to send him out…
but his ashandel was older than he, as was customary, and it was thought that the two of them were so well paired that this would be our first chance to see the inner workings of the Imperial Fortress with your father’s skill and his ashandel’s experience.
“Their message was the last we heard of them. What we have learned since is that your father infiltrated the Most High and was brought into an audience with the Empress herself, where it is rumored he fell in love. He became her consort, though we cannot be certain whether it was for true love or in an audacious attempt to gain information. In any case, once you were born and found to be a viable Child of the Empress, she had your father killed. It is a perverse sign of the respect she had for him that he was killed by a Blade Master, not by the Death Watchmen; he was thought too dangerous for anyone else to handle.”
The Prince had to work moisture back into his mouth before speaking.
“How do you know all of this?” he asked.
The Elder looked to Tomaz and raised an eyebrow. The big man, face white and eyes wide, nodded the barest fraction, and the Elder continued.
“This information came to us when Tomaz joined the Kindred.”
The Prince looked up at the big man, whose face was now a mask of grief and pain as well as unquestionable shame.
“What does he mean?” the Prince asked Tomaz. The big man took a deep breath, his brows drawn and his mouth turned down at the edges; his black eyes bore a deep sorrow, making him look suddenly much older than his years.
“I told you I was asked to commit an act that led me to betray the Empire.”
The Prince nodded numbly.
“That act was to kill the Empress’s consort and his traveling partner. To kill your father and his ashandel.”
His eyes locked onto the Prince’s, wordlessly asking for forgiveness and understanding, but not expecting it. It was clear that no matter what pardon the Prince could try to give, Tomaz had already judged himself.
“That’s why you wouldn’t let me leave in the mountains,” the Prince said softly. “That’s why you came back for me in the Seeker’s dungeon, and that’s why you took the blow from Ramael’s axe that should have killed me. You thought you were in my debt.”
Tomaz nodded. He cleared his throat gruffly and shifted his weight, putting his hands on his hips; the Prince realized the big man was close to tears.
“I can never bring your father back,” Tomaz said, his voice rough and heavy with years of regret, “but when we found you in the mountains, I made it my duty to protect you. I couldn’t save your father, but I could save you. Even if it meant saving you from yourself.”
There was a long moment when no one spoke. The Prince’s mind was blank. Fatigue and shock had addled him.
“But what does any of this have to do with the sword?” Leah asked.
Elder Crane nodded and continued.
“The sword was the first valerium weapon forged, but also the first sword enchanted as a Spellblade’s weapon.
Being a valerium weapon, the link forged was much more powerful than anticipated, and when Aemon died, we found that none could touch the blade.
Aemon had a power in his blood, the seed of the same power that the Empress has.
They brought it with them from across the Sea, and when they settled here that power began to dim.
The Empress found a way to sustain that power, but Aemon fled before he could learn from her and his power died out, though some trace of it remained in his blood; when he came here and found valerium, and used his blood to bind it to him, that dormant seed grew and blossomed, allowing him to fight and defeat the Tyrant when she invaded.
That seed was, we believe, passed down from him to his son, from that son to his daughter, and so on and so forth until your father. ”
Leah and Tomaz both looked as though they’d been punched in the gut. The Elder fell silent as he gave them time to absorb this piece of information.
“But the line died with Aemon,” Tomaz said. “Aemon had no children!”
“He did, but it was kept secret,” Crane responded calmly.
“The Empress had invaded to kill Aemon, and with that accomplished she retreated. It was imperative to keep Aemon’s continued line from her knowledge, which was part of why Aemon could not let the Empress take him alive.
It is why he fought to the last on the spot we now call Aemon’s Stand. ”
“His father was the last of Aemon’s line?” Leah asked in a hushed voice.
“No no,” Crane said. “He is the last of Aemon’s line.”
Tomaz and Leah slowly looked at the Prince.
“No other of his line has been able to touch the sword, though we have tried again and again, obviously without telling them why. You are the first to know of your heritage, in fact. But it is my belief that because you are also the son of the Empress, you have the same seed of power in your blood that Aemon had, allowing you to handle a sword originally paired exclusively to him, and to his power of healing. That was the secret he stole from the Empress, the ability to bring a person back from the edge of death as long as there was the smallest bit of life in them. To this day she does not have this power, for she did not deem it worth having and so gave it to Aemon while she kept the other Aspects, what you call Talismans, and gave them to her Children to help her rule. And you, with all of Tomaz’s memories conveniently stored away in your mind by the Raven Talisman, had more than enough to work with in order to bring him back.
For you see, Aemon’s blood is in that blade, and I suspect that his sacrifice turned it into a Talisman of its own in a way, allowing you to turn the Raven Talisman from its black, corrupted purpose, back to what it was meant to be.
Even still, the task was enormous, and in your exhausted state I do not think you would have been able to manage it without the strength you gained from Ramael—some of which was passed into Tomaz. ”
A quick exchange happened between the two Rogues, but the Prince took little notice of it, for he was still staring at the Elder.
“I know it is a lot to take in, particularly after what has just happened. I will leave you alone, though once you feel adjusted enough to be up and walking, I would like to speak with you further. There is the matter of the information you gave us on the castle of Roarke—the information you gleaned from your brother’s memories.
Part of it is incomplete, and I would very much appreciate your help filling in the blanks.
But more than that… I will make no secret of the fact that you are the hero of this battle.
The Kindred know your story, they know your identity as the Prince of Ravens and also, now, as Aemon’s Heir.
You gave me your loyalty until this crisis has passed, and passed it has.
Now… you are free to choose. And I would like to know where that decision will take you. Where it will take us all.”
With a respectful nod of the head, Crane made for the door, motioning for Leah and Tomaz to follow him and leave the Prince alone.
“Wait!”
The Elder turned.
“I have two questions,” the Prince said.
The Elder nodded again and waited.
“First… if I decide to leave, will you let me?”
“Yes,” the Elder said immediately. The Prince felt a huge weight fall off of him that he hadn’t known he’d been carrying.
The Elder continued. “The Kindred are in your debt for our very existence. You are not our prisoner. The Council unanimously decided that should you wish to leave, it is only right of us to let you. Though please know that you will always have a place here with us. You need not continue to run.”
The Prince couldn’t do anything but nod.
“You had another question?” Elder Crane prodded.
“Yes… what was my father’s name?”
The Elder’s face took on a look of surprise, and then he smiled slightly.
“Relkin,” he said. “It is one of the oldest names we have. It means ‘true son.’ Your father chose it on his name day, when he turned eighteen. He chose it because he saw himself as the son of all the Kindred who had brought him up.”
“Relkin,” the Prince said, seeing how the name sounded. “Thank you.”
The Elder nodded and turned again to leave. Tomaz and Leah, however, did not.
“I think we should speak with him alone, Elder,” Tomaz said. “About the matter we discussed before. I think he needs to know it all.”
Crane looked like he might protest, but then he said, “It is your gift. You have the right to share it with whom you wish.”
And with that, he left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Tomaz and Leah turned back to the Prince.
“Leah,” he began, before they could speak, “thank you for helping me—”
“Not necessary,” she said with one of her rare smiles.
“It is,” the Prince insisted. “You seem to be making a habit out of saving my life.”
“You saved mine too,” she said.
“I’m still grateful,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “You princes and your manners,” she mocked. But then she grew quiet, and even looked troubled. She glanced at Tomaz, and the Prince looked to the big man as well.
“Tomaz… thank you for what you did. What you were willing to do. Sacrificing your life the way you did to save the Kindred… to save me.”
Tomaz nodded, face drawn and still tight with emotion. The Prince cleared his throat, which had a sudden lump in it.
“Thank you,” Tomaz said, “for bringing me back.”
There was a long pause, in which Leah and Tomaz looked at each other once more. The Prince, finally realizing that there was something that had been left unsaid, asked, “What is it?”
They both looked at him, and then Leah cleared her throat.
“When you brought Tomaz back… you gave him something.”
The Prince looked from the girl to the man, confused about what she was saying, trying to see if this was a joke.
“I… uh… I don’t understand,” he said.
Leah opened her mouth again to speak, but then closed it and turned to Tomaz. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged in response.
“I think I’ll just show him,” Tomaz rumbled. He began to undo the lacings on his simple cotton shirt.
“What are you doing, Tomaz?” the Prince asked, very confused.
“Just… just wait,” Leah said, looking at him anxiously, and the Prince realized that they were both frightened of how he would react to what they were about to show him.
His mind began to race through all the possibilities as Tomaz undid the final lacings on his high-necked cotton tunic.
Had the Prince somehow left him so badly scarred it would affect his life?
Was there a gaping hole in his side, a permanent wound that would not close? What could frighten them this badly?
The giant pulled the shirt over his head, and the Prince’s mouth dropped open.
Tomaz’s chest was covered with dimly glowing red lines that seemed to pulse and twist as he moved.
They outlined the muscles of his chest, his shoulders, his arms, his stomach.
They moved up the sides of his neck and stopped just short of his chin, and now the Prince understood the purpose of the shirt’s high-necked collar.
Tomaz turned slowly, and the Prince saw that the markings, like carefully banked coals ready to burst into flame, continued on his back as well, lining every muscle, weaving in and out the Blade Master mark.
“How is that possible?” the Prince asked. “I killed him. It should have gone back to the Empress.”
“We think you absorbed it along with his life,” Leah said, speaking slowly and watching him closely. “And when you brought back Tomaz, you passed it to him along with his memories.”
Tomaz turned back to face the Prince, who found himself speechless.
The Ox Talisman, for its part, continued to pulse with a fiery red light, beating in time with the giant’s heart.