The Sight of Blood: Rhen's Story

-4- Terdan's Envoy

“That is enough.”

Calmly, Trissa bent forward and felt along the cobblestones until she found the cup and placed it back on the tray. “What is it you mean?”

“You know what I mean. If I can taste it on the air, who is to say-“ she leaned forward, dropping to a hissed whisper, “who is to say no one else can?”

Lifting the tray, Trissa rose to her feet. “Those aer’din will find the taste bitter on their tongues.”

Celane’s eyes went wide with shock. She pulled Rhen close and clutched her against her side. Her hands and face had turned white. Rhen looked back and forth between the two women, not quite understanding what was going on. Celane swallowed deeply.

“How far along?” she asked, calmer now.

The blind woman shook her head. “Not very.”

Without another word, Celane took Rhen by the hand and led her away. They walked in silence until they reached the kitchens, empty now after the midday meal. Celane sat her down on a stool by the hearth and knelt in front of her, staring into her eyes without blinking. Up close Rhen could see that her face and fingertips were still stained with traces of blue pigments.

“Rhen. Your aunt Trissa is a dangerous woman. You must not let her speak to you anymore.”

“I was… I wanted…”

Celane stroked through her short yellow curls. “We’ve neglected you, haven’t we, my dear? I’m sorry for that. Even so, you must not let her speak to you.”

“Please, Aunt, I cannot sleep.”

Celane fell silent and cupped Rhen’s face in her hands. Then she rose and took a bowl from a shelf. Dried herbs and flowers hung from a length of twine that crossed from one end of the room to the other, and she made short work of choosing bits of this and that from the lot. With skilled hands she mashed the crushed herbs into a fine powder, then filled a cup with water and sprinkled the mixture on top. Rhen watched with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as Celane bent her head and whispered over the cup, then knelt and beckoned to her. She approached without question, worried that she might be in trouble.

“This is medicine for you, child. It will help you sleep.” She offered Rhen the cup. A smile crossed her lips but there was worry in her eyes. Rhen took the cup and drank its contents. The mixture had an odd blend of sweet and bitter sensations.

“Rhen?”

Her mother stood in the doorway, draped in red-embroidered linens that she only wore for special ceremonies. The light from outside caught the brilliance of the scarlet fabric and made her glow like fire against darkness. She extended her hand and Rhen hurried to take it.

“I’ve given her something, Asara,” Celane said. “It will-“

“He’s here.”

Celane uttered a word that Rhen was not allowed to repeat and pushed past them out of the kitchens. Rhen’s mother squeezed her hand and led her outside as well. “Someone important is arriving, my sweetling. An envoy from Terdan, the Deliri capital city. You must show him great respect.”

They were walking toward the gate. Rhen felt dizzy in the growing heat of the day and relied on her mother’s grasp to steady her. The sudden attention from everyone after weeks of near-silence made her feel strange. “Why is he here, Mama?”

“I…am not sure, Sweetling. You must be on your very best behavior whilst he is here, do you understand?”

Rhen nodded. As they came upon the gate she saw the biggest horse she had ever seen – white and gray, with a leather saddle dyed blue and decorated with green and gold-embroidered cloth. The elf who rode her wore green and gold as well in the form of fitted clothing and stately jewels that glittered in the sun and made Rhen gasp. She had never seen such a display of wealth and prestige. He dismounted in one fluid motion and immediately clasped his hands at the small of his back, his cold stare darting from one person to the next as edran and nessari alike lined up to either side of the pathway to greet him. Rhen stood beside her mother, trying not to stare too much. The envoy walked with a stiff demeanor, his face full of judgment and disdain as he inspected the row of women and elves. He almost missed Rhen, his gaze set too high to notice anything but the top of her golden head, but just as he seemed he would pass by he stopped and looked down at her instead.

His voice was unexpectedly soft as he asked a question in his native tongue. One of the nearby edran answered, and the envoy turned his attention to Rhen’s mother.

“She is yours?” he asked with a gentle tone.

“Yes, Edran’in, she is mine.”

“She is lovely. We will speak more tomorrow.”

Without waiting for a response, the envoy turned and began to walk toward the temple, followed by a company of Delerin priests and servants. Rhen’s mother released a shuddering sigh and knelt down to her level, taking Rhen in her arms.

“You did very well,” she whispered.