Brother, Betrayed Page 9

  “Fasime!” Syah cried. Oman and Denire stopped their horses and turned around.

  “All right, all right,” Fasime said in a soothing tone, watching Oman and the soldier approaching. “Cool your temper.”

  “He’s awake,” Oman observed.

  Syah took a deep breath and huffed it out in irritation. “Yes, he’s awake,” Syah said, meeting the eldest’s eyes. Fasime pulled Lightning to a halt.

  “I’m sorry, Syah,” Oman returned, moving his horse next to them and setting his hand on Syah’s shoulder. “Are you well?”

  An angry response came to Syah’s lips, but he held it. He lowered his gaze. “It has eased.”

  Oman waited, watching him. “Good,” he said when Syah looked up at him again. “Denire says we are near a mountain river. It would be a good place to rest for the night. Can you ride a little longer?”

  Syah glanced at Denire, but the soldier said nothing. Syah wondered how the rogue knight had been getting along with his brothers. “Yes, I can ride,” Syah answered.

  Oman nodded, but his expression was concerned. “Syah, you still seem…” Oman began.

  Syah raised his hand. “I will ride with Fasime.” Oman and Fasime exchanged pleased glances.

  “All right, let’s go. It’s getting closer to night break,” Oman said, and turned his horse. They started off at a medium pace through the forest.

  “Fasime,” Syah said after they had been riding a while.

  “Yes?”

  Syah paused, watching Denire and Oman in front of them. “Did he make me drink any more of that liquid?”

  Fasime sighed, putting his hand on Syah’s shoulder. “No,” he answered, “just once.” Syah wearily rubbed his face. “Do you still feel its effects?”

  “Yes,” Syah answered.

  Fasime nodded. “It will wear off soon.”

  “Not again. I will not take it again.”

  “We know. You will be in pain when riding, but if you can tolerate it…”

  “I can.”

  “All right. Just… tell us if you need to rest.”

  Syah shrugged. “I don’t know why I would become tired, sitting in the saddle.”

  “We’ll see,” Fasime responded.

  Syah watched the forest ahead of them. Fasime thought he should say something more, but Syah was quiet, so he decided to let it be. Fasime’s attention stayed on him. Syah’s body was affected more and more by the horse’s movements. With careful movements, Fasime positioned his arm to encircle Syah’s body. Syah didn’t react. Soon Syah’s head swayed, but Fasime’s grip had him as his body went limp.

  Fasime’s eyes went to the forest. It is good that he sleeps.

  The aroma of cooking meat pulled Syah from a deep rest. His first thought as he opened his eyes was of how hungry he was, not how he came to rest under blankets on the forest floor. As he pulled himself up to a sitting position, he saw Oman and Fasime at a fire. They looked over to him.

  Oman smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t stay asleep long with a stew on the fire. Do you feel better?”

  “Yes, I do. Where are we?”

  “We’ve reached the river north of Parmin,” Fasime answered, motioning behind him. Syah noticed the sound of water and turned around. He saw the soldier kneeling by a clear, wide river that cut through the forest.

  “I need my map,” Syah said.

  “Don’t worry about that right now,” Oman said. He dished out some of what was in the pot by the fire. “Just eat,” he said, handing Syah the bowl. “You’re probably starved.”

  Syah took it, and was too occupied to argue.

  Fasime watched him spoon the stew into his mouth. “Your appetite is a good sign,” Fasime remarked. Syah paused. “We’ve been thinking about changing course and heading west,” Fasime said with hesitation. “There are no towns or settlements north of here. It would…”

  “Cut our journey short,” Syah interrupted him.

  “No, it would be easier than traveling unnecessarily through more hilly terrain,” Oman explained.

  “Unnecessarily?” Syah said, setting down the bowl. “How is it unnecessary to reach the northern border of our kingdom, to reach every border, as we set out to do?”

  “It’s not about that. It’s about making the journey easier for all of us,” Fasime argued.

  “No, it’s about returning to the castle sooner. It’s about me.”

  “Syah…”

  “No, Oman, don’t try to play it false. I vowed as we took our first steps through the city gates that I would not hold us back.”

  “Wait a moment, Syah. If it were Oman or I who was injured…”

  “We would push you to continue. Because that’s what a prince of Arnith does. He survives. He doesn’t give up. He ignores the pain.” Oman and Fasime said nothing as Syah paused. “Is anything less expected of me?”

  “No,” they answered together.

  “You’re right,” Oman said. He placed his hand on Syah’s shoulder.

  “I want to see the forbidden border of our kingdom,” Syah said in a low tone, listening to the soldier’s approach. “And I want to stand below the Black Mountains and gaze up to their magnificence. Don’t you want to see it?”

  They nodded.

  “Then we will continue north, through the hills,” Syah said.

  “It has grown dark, sirs. You should get some sleep,” Denire said with a respectful tone.

  Syah waited to be sure there were no further arguments about their next destination. “I will take the first watch,” he said.

  Oman shook his head. “No, Syah, you should rest.”

  “I have been asleep all day. You have been riding. I’m not yet tired; I will wake you when I am.”

  “I will stay up with you.” Denire spoke with firmness. “Two of us should stay awake, being this close to the river.”

  Syah sighed and nodded, knowing his true reasons.

  “Agreed,” said Fasime. “Wake us when you are ready. But Syah, don’t let the night pass without you finding sleep. You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

  “I’ll never get over being the youngest, will I?”

  “No,” Oman concurred, with a smile. He and Fasime situated themselves and stretched out on the blankets they had laid. “You will never escape it.”

  Syah woke to morning sun glowing in the horizon beyond the trees. Angry with himself, he remembered talking with Denire as the night sky filled with a canopy of white stars. He must have fallen asleep. Syah pushed it from his mind. It is over. Today I will not slow them down. I have certainly had my rest. He listened a moment for his brothers. He heard them, or the soldier, nearby but not speaking. Get up and we will get ready to leave. Syah paused to enjoy the comfort of his rest. He thought it would be nice to be able to lie there a while longer, letting his sore limbs soak up the warmth of his covers, but he shook the thought from his mind. You’ve stayed here long enough. He turned his gaze, seeing a forest of grass and shrubs stretched out before him. He reached for his pack beside him.

  It is an amazing thing, the birth of a seed. To watch something as lifeless as stone or dirt, buried safe and unseen, suddenly spring forth with life and purpose is humbling. This small green growth will feed and strengthen, grow and mature, and will be a tree one day, as tall and formidable as the rest of the trees in the forest. What a curious thing that it should start off as something so fragile and hidden.

  It took a great deal of effort to write those few words down. Just an observation, though I thought it noteworthy. We are another day’s ride from the dwarven border, though it may take us longer than that. I fear I am hindering our progress. I hope this ailment will pass quickly.

  That is all for now. I will continue this at another resting place where we stop for the night.

  For the three brothers,

  Syah, Prince of Arnith

  Syah set down his journal. As he pushed the blankets off and sat up with care, the breeze chilled his clothes and skin that were damp with s
weat. His brows lowered, feeling a strange weakness holding him, one that came from within. He looked to his brothers sitting by the fire. “Are you ready to continue our journey?” he asked.

  “Once you eat some breakfast,” Fasime answered. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes. And you?”

  They both nodded.

  “Here, let me help you,” Oman said and took the blankets from him. Syah watched him roll them up, worried Oman would sense something was wrong. Syah tried to disguise his shivering by rubbing his arms and went to sit next to Fasime. Though he wasn’t hungry, he took the bowl Fasime handed him and began to eat. He looked around for the knight.

  “He’s scouting the woods,” Fasime answered his unspoken question.

  “I think we have determined what river this is,” Oman said, after he had tied Syah’s blankets to his horse. Syah met Oman’s gaze as he handed him his maps.

  “Good,” Syah answered, “show me.”

  “Here, coming from the dwarven kingdom. It extends past Dikartia,” Oman explained, pointing out a small river on the map of Arnith.

  “Interested in maps, now, are you?” Syah asked him.

  “I always have been. Just not in the same way you were.”

  Syah tilted his head back, studying him. Oman touched his shoulder. “Finish eating. We’ll be leaving soon,” he said and stood.

  Oman and Fasime packed up camp, leaving a low fire burning until they saw Denire returning through the trees. Syah gritted his teeth as he rose, warning his protesting body not to defy him.

  Chapter Nine

  FEVER

  You’ve come this far. You can go just a little farther. Denire and his brothers were moving farther and farther away of him. He tightened his fists and pushed his horse, but somehow the mare’s sluggishness had developed to match the prince’s weakening condition. Syah’s concern for his brothers’ drifting farther ahead of him diminished. He imagined himself under thick blankets beside a low burning fire…

  As if a bolt of lightning had just struck in his sight, Syah’s mind snapped awake and his eyes widened on the knight’s face, turned towards him. Concern darkened Denire’s face, affirming the knight had seen him drifting. The prince found the strength to straighten in the saddle and push himself to match the others’ pace.

  Beads of sweat snaked down Syah’s face. Agitated, he smeared them away. The prince knew the soldier still watched. A twinge clenched Syah’s gut when the knight stopped and turned his horse towards him. Syah held his head, trying to wipe away the wrenching frustration igniting inside him. Syah grabbed the reins and focused on pushing his horse faster in order to avoid the soldier. Denire, however, rode next to him with ease. The anger inside the prince sharpened. He tried to ignore Denire, studying him.

  “Syah?” the knight asked. Denire paused, glancing towards Oman and Fasime, who continued to ride a little distance ahead of them. Denire continued, “We have traveled far this day.”

  Syah’s face tightened, but he did not look at the knight. He raised his voice to reply, but couldn’t help but choke on the words. “And what of it? It is just past midday. We have much light left to…”

  Syah turned his head away. The prince’s body shook though he tried to contain it.

  “We…” the knight began but paused, seeing his words inflicting a physical blows on the young prince. Denire gripped his reins tighter and continued, “We all could use a rest. It is…”

  “I said I’m fine!” Syah returned. Denire’s eyes narrowed. After a moment, the soldier nodded and looked away. Syah breathed easier when he realized the knight was leaving him. What business was it of his anyway? Syah slackened his pace, aware that he was falling further back, but unconcerned.

  His drifting thoughts were snared back by the sight of Denire riding up to his eldest brother, leaning over, and speaking with him. Syah could have screamed as Oman stopped and turned sharply around, his surprised eyes falling on Syah. Syah wanted to turn his horse and plunge alone into the unknown forests.

  Oman and Fasime approached Syah. Out of habit, Syah’s horse turned back towards the others after a few paces. Syah’s insides were swimming in frustration and fatigue. This is foolish. They are wasting valuable daylight.

  “Syah,” Oman said, coming up beside him. Syah avoided the eldest’s eyes, trying to control the quivering through his body.

  “Don’t be so stupid,” was Syah’s reply.

  Oman took a moment, glancing at Fasime. They both led their horses closer to Syah, one on either side of him. “Does something ail you, brother?” Fasime asked in a calmer tone. Oman drew closer.

  “You delay us. We must be on,” Syah said in short gasps, one hand moving to his chest.

  “You obviously are in pain and are having trouble riding. Dismount, and let’s stop and rest a while,” Fasime urged.

  Syah leaned forward and gave out a frustrated cry. “We do not need to stop!” Syah shouted, and turned on him. Syah met Fasime’s eyes, but didn’t seem to see him.

  “Syah…”

  “Go your own path, you fools!” Syah screamed. He whipped the reins and dug his heels as hard as he could into his horse. The mare kicked and then was galloping away from the others, into the forest.

  Syah wished he hadn’t done it. The force of the ride jolted his tired body and he struggled to hold on. He couldn’t slow. He had to keep ahead of them to prevent them from stopping. Syah’s grip started to weaken, intentionally perhaps, to stop the horse from rocking and pulling him. His brothers watched in horror as he fell off the back of his galloping horse and hit the ground.

  Oman pulled back the reins and was off his horse before it completely stopped. Syah was awake, his body rigid. Oman knelt next to him, realizing Syah wasn’t breathing. He grabbed Syah and lifted him up. Fasime raced past them to recover Syah’s straying horse.

  Syah took in a swift, sharp gasp as Oman sat him up. “Breathe in,” Oman said, leaning his brother’s shaking body forward. “We are fire begot from sky. Lightning begets fire, fire begets smoke.”

  Syah relaxed, surprised Oman remembered it.

  “Smoke rises from the fire and joins the clouds in the sky,” Oman continued with deliberate words, as Syah took a shallow, labored breath in, crying out as it left him. “Then rain comes from the clouds, and puts out the fire.” Syah closed his eyes, agitation surging through him. “Thus we know all things are connected; one thing’s end is another’s creation.”

  “Here.” Oman looked up to find Denire standing beside them, holding out a damp cloth. Syah gasped in again and Oman took the cloth from Denire. Syah jerked and tried to pull away as Oman covered his face with it, but Oman held him and said, “It’s only water.” After a moment, Syah loosened his grip and closed his eyes. Fasime returned and dismounted. They sat listening to Syah’s gasps weaken and his breath return to him.

  With a jerk, Syah grabbed his brother’s arm. Oman lowered his hand from Syah’s face. “That’s enough, Oman,” Syah said in a shaky voice. Syah leaned forward, attempting to stand erect.

  Fasime lowered his head and rubbed his face. “How could you pull a stunt like that?” Fasime demanded, but Syah didn’t react. “You could have been seriously hurt, riding like a madman through the forest!”

  “I’m just tired,” Syah said with dry words. Oman and Fasime both stood as Syah turned and started for the horses.

  “Wait,” Denire said to the elder brothers. He let Syah walk past him. Syah went to his horse but stopped, putting both hands on the saddle.

  “Syah.” Oman paused and started more carefully. “You need rest before you can ride again.”

  “We can travel a little further this day,” the youngest replied.

  “There is no reason. We will stop here and rest.”

  Syah did not respond. Syah put one hand on his packs, but then stood still again. Oman realized why Denire had stopped them: Syah didn’t have the strength to lift himself to the saddle. Oman let out a long, shaky breath and waited. Syah
’s head leaned down to the saddle in defeat.

  Denire stepped up to him.

  “We are close to the river,” said Denire. Syah lifted his head and turned to face him. The knight saw his eyes were murky, as his thoughts seemed to be. Before Syah had a warning, Denire leaned down and put his shoulder into Syah’s stomach, stood and lifted the prince up. “I will carry you.”

  Denire began to walk, and Syah held his breath, knowing the pain was coming. When he breathed once, with hesitation, Denire was walking with care, not straining his injured chest.

  Oman and Fasime took the horses’ reins and walked behind. Denire carried Syah to the river and held him, as Oman and Fasime took blankets from the packs. As Denire started to lower Syah, he found the boy’s body was limp. Syah had fallen asleep.

  Oman and Fasime sat down beside him, not speaking. Then Denire said, “It’s the fever. He is fighting something inside him.” Denire let out a nervous breath and lifted up Syah’s shirt. Syah’s chest was red and swollen where his ribs were broken. The knight swallowed, moving his hand to the spot. He ran his fingers over the boy’s skin, feeling the strong heat of it. Denire sighed and stayed silent a while, but Fasime and Oman already knew that, whatever he said, Syah was very ill.

  Shadows. Fire. He opened his eyes. He was still dreaming, his world red, blistering, blurry. He turned and forced himself up.

  Oman watched Syah stand, but waited, seeing the empty expression on his face.

  The world was ablaze. Fire rose and licked his skin. His blood seemed to boil. Shadows materialized, surrounding him with an impenetrable wall of flame.

  Oman stood when fear come over his brother’s face. “Syah, what’s wrong?” he demanded.

  The youngest brother didn’t hear him, looking madly around. He stepped next to Fasime, sleeping beside him. Syah leaned down and lifted Fasime’s sword.

  “Syah!” Oman cried.

  Fasime and Denire woke but were still, seeing Syah stand above them with a naked sword in his grasp.

  They draw closer. They will consume you.