A shadow of foreboding fell upon Mhera, a feeling of unease that went beyond the horror of a young boy's death. As she looked at Uachi's pensive face in the dark, she remembered her own experience as a child of losing someone she loved in a dreadful, violent way. Koreti—the boy Matei had been—had been murdered. That this had been a lie had not diminished the pain of believing it when she was just a girl.
"I knew it was him. He was of a size with my brother, and had the same brown hair. His body was wrapped in linen bandages, binding his limbs so they could carry him easily. When they turned him to place him in a cart standing ready outside the keep, I saw his face. It was black with bruises; had I not known him by the rest, I might not have recognized him, and his marke had been completely obscured. His head hung unnaturally on his neck, but it was him. They had..." Uachi drew a breath, his voice breaking. "They had cut his throat. For the goddess's sake, he was just a boy."
He paused for a moment, his fingers clenching tight on the hilt of the dagger. "They drew another shroud over him and hid his face. I suppose they did not want to look on what they had done. And then, a man in robes came out. He carried a staff, and he stood there, still as a statue, as another came from within, leading a mule. The look on his face was...strange. It was as if nothing in the world could please him.
"They hitched the mule to the cart, and then one of the men called, 'Have you what you need, my lord?' And the man—the mage—said, 'Drive it through the Arcborn quarter to the Rose Road. You: ride ahead to deliver the message.'" Uachi shook his head, a distant look in his eye, as if he were seeing it all over again. "I could do nothing but crouch behind that well and watch as they drove my brother's body away. I never saw him again."
Uachi looked at her at last, and what he saw in her face seemed to surprise him. "Mhera...are you all right?"
She was not all right. The shape of the past had moved as Uachi had told his story; mysteries had trembled and taken new form, and some things had fallen into place with a clarity for which she had been unprepared. But it was not her moment to speak. She shook her head and said, "I will tell you, but first...what happened, Uachi? What happened to you next?"
He gave her a bitter smile. "I left the city...but not before I went back to Lady Aryasa's house. My mother was fast asleep, worn down by her grief. I doubt she ever learned what became of Uaran. But I knew who could be held responsible. When they found her on the cobblestones of her courtyard the next morning, they must have thought she'd leapt out the window of her own accord. And well may she have, had she any conscience at all. Guilt for what she'd allowed them to do to him should have driven her to it. Since it didn't, I helped her along the way."
So there it was: Uachi's first act of violence. The first person he had killed had been a Starborn woman who had caused his family immeasurable suffering. Mhera realized at last that it was not simple hatred of the Starborn and the world as it was that drove Uachi. In a way, it was fear—Aryasa's shadow. Fear was why he had despised Mhera from the start, why he had mistrusted her. Fear was why he had shrank away from her touch and, at first, from her friendship.
Mhera remembered how she had feared Matei and Uachi when first she had met them, thinking that they were responsible for Koreti's death. At long last, she felt she truly knew the man who sat at her side. "Why did you tell me all this, Uachi?" she asked softly.
"It was...time." His gaze flicked down to her throat for an instant; then, he looked away, sliding his dagger back into the sheath at his belt. "I suppose I just wanted someone else to know. You said you trusted me. I felt, perhaps, that I might...trust you."
Mhera was moved by his cautious words. "You can trust me, Uachi. These secrets of yours, I will take to my grave. But have you told no one else? What about Matei?"
"He knows Uaran was killed. But not the rest. I haven't told anyone. No one but you."
Confused and queerly humbled by his trust in her, Mhera reflected on all he had said. Then, softly, she asked, "Uachi, what became of your mother?"
"I tried to get her to leave with me, but she wouldn't. I think living in fear for so long and losing her younger son killed the woman she was as surely as if she'd been stabbed through the heart. She could not even bury his body, Mhera. You are not a mother, but you can guess what such a thing does to a woman who loves her sons. I tried to find her once, when I was back in the city, but she was already dead by then."
Mhera slid toward Uachi on the step. He did not move away as she reached for his hand. It was large and calloused—the strongest hand she had ever seen—and even now, that hand and the man behind it seemed restless. Ready to act, to fight. She held his hand in both of hers and looked up at his face. "I have something to tell you now."
Uachi gave her a sliver of a smile. "Is it to be a night of secrets, then?"
She returned his look seriously, waiting for the bitter amusement to fade from his watchful face. Then, she said, "Did you know what was happening here in the palace at the time of your brother's death?"
"Not much of it. The whole city knew that the prince was missing. The streets were choked with Starborn soldiers. I remember spiting him for running away. Compared to what my brother and I had suffered under Aryasa's hand, what could he have to run away from?"
"But they found him. They found his body. Did you know that?"
"Of course I did. It wasn't until that night in Hanpe that I knew he wasn't dead."
Mhera rose to her feet. "Will you come with me, Uachi? I want to show you something."
Looking perplexed, the ranger stood. Mhera still held his hand, and he made no move to break her grasp. He allowed her to lead him around the temple, choosing a gradual path up the narrow steps, until they reached the intricately-wrought iron gates that barred the way in.
Mhera released Uachi's hand so she could unlatch the gate. She pulled it open and stepped into the stone-walled chamber, which was illuminated with a pale blue glow from rows of spirit globes balanced on delicate sconces that lined the walls. At the far end of the tomb was a passageway down into the earth, where the oldest sovereigns lay for their eternal rest; here, above the ground, were those of most recent memory. Mhera passed by the coffins where the bones of the sleeping lay, trailing her fingers over the stone ledges graven with their names. Next to each of the nameplates was a coin-shaped medallion with the likeness of the deceased in relief.
"Mhera...why are we in here?" Uachi had not moved from the door. He looked ill-at-ease, which was strange for such a self-possessed man.
"Come inside." Mhera had stopped in front of one of the coffins. It had been carven with a beautiful pattern of stars and flowers, each tiny bud and leaf embellished with gold. She reached out to touch one of the stars. "This is my aunt...Matei's mother, Empress Esaria."
She felt, rather than saw him draw near; his shadow fell across the coffin. "The Corpsemaker killed her, didn't he?"
Mhera nodded. "And the same day, Koreti disappeared. He did not come to her funeral; I knew something was wrong. We did not learn for months that he was dead—assumed dead." She turned and looked up at Uachi; his face was sculpted of highlights and deep shadows in the flickering light spirit globes. "Uachi, they had a body. They buried Koreti's body." She rested her hand on the smaller coffin on the shelf above Esaria's.
He glanced suspiciously at Mhera. "Why did you bring me here?"
"I Saw your brother's death. I don't fully understand it; there is much I do not know. But as you told me what happened to him, my memories fell into place."
He took a step back from her. "Tell me what you mean."
"I think this is where your brother rests," Mhera whispered.
There was a dreadful silence; Mhera could feel his anger filling the narrow stone chamber where they stood. When Uachi spoke, his voice was tight with emotion. "Don't lie to me. Don't feed me your wicked stories."
"I'm not lying, Uachi. I Saw it. At the time, I believed it was Koreti. I Saw what they...I saw his death. The vision tormented me for years. The Sight is fickle and confusing; sometimes, one sees what may have been, or what may be. Thus I never realized, once I understood that Matei was Koreti, that I had Seen some other young boy's death."
"How can you know? How can you be certain that they buried him in this place?"
"I can't. Not for certain. But what I know is this: a messenger came to the palace one morning bearing news that Koreti had been found. They brought his body to the palace. They forbade me to see him, for he had been badly abused. But I did See him, in a vision, much later. It was that vision which led my uncle to send me to the Haven. I do not think he knew that Koreti still lived. I think he was simply afraid that I would uncover the circumstances of his disappearance; the truth—that he had been cast Koreti out—was too much of a threat. That's why he sent me away.
"There is a body in this coffin, Uachi, one I was never permitted to see. He was given a funeral in the Temple and all the accolades due a prince. And he was lain to rest here next to the empress, with spirit globes to light every moment of his last sleep."
Uachi slowly placed his hands on Mhera's shoulders. He moved her aside and stepped into her place, looking down at the narrow coffin of a boy of twelve. Mhera watched his face; she saw his gaze rove over the coffin, the name plate, and then the graven likeness of a young Koreti. When his eyes fell upon that image, he reached out and touched the edge of the medallion, his expression soft.
But that look did not last. "Do you think that matters?" he whispered. "Do you think it would comfort him to have slept next to the sovereigns who oversaw a world where we were treated like slaves? Where he could be beaten every day? Where his life was worth a few pieces of gold?"
The sight of the broad-shouldered ranger bent over that small coffin swam before Mhera's eyes. She drew a shaking breath. "No."
"Do you think he rested peacefully under this cursed light?!" Uachi turned and swung his fist, knocking one of the spirit globes off its small shelf. Mhera flinched when it shattered on the floor, raising her hands instinctively to shield her face, and the light in the chamber dimmed. Uachi cried, "This light is made with the blood of my people!"
Mhera lowered her head, fighting back her tears. This was not her grief. It was not her right to weep.
With a roar of anger, Uachi struck his fist against the stone ledge upon which the coffin lay. He slumped against the wall, his shoulders shuddering. "You're lying to me like all of your people lie. You lie so I have no right to my grief and my anger. Go!"
But Mhera did not go. Her heart hammering in her breast, she stood by, watching as Uachi slid down the wall to his knees. "Uachi," she whispered. Had she been right to tell him what she knew? Had she been right to cause him such pain on top of the suffering he had already endured?
"Leave me!" he snarled.
Again, the voice in the back of Mhera's mind whispered, Danger, but she pushed the fear aside. She crept closer to Uachi and knelt at his side. She did not dare lay a hand on him lest he round on her like he had before, but she waited there, unwilling to leave him alone with his grief.
Uachi stayed as he was for the space of a breath, two breaths, three—and then he turned to her, his face wet with tears. "Mhera," he said, a broken sob. He let his head fall upon her shoulder. "He was just a boy."
Mhera put her arms around Uachi, and she held him as he wept.
Hmm...The mystery around the Archmage grows deeper.
Personally, I'm afraid Mhera's willingness to stay with Uachi during these outbursts is a little foolish. He's a dangerous man and could have accidentally killed her earlier tonight. But Mhera has a gentle heart, and she can see something in Uachi that most people don't. Then there is the fact that he's trusted her ever since she chose to die for his people.
What do you think? Is Mhera wise to stay with him now, or foolish?
Was it right of her to tell Uachi what she believes about the boy the world saw as Koreti?
Your next chapter comes on Tuesday! Yay! I'll keep the POV a mystery because I am cruel like that. ♥