Part 2 Chapter 1

PART II

 

“WHY DIVINWOOD”

 

 

 

CHAPTER 10

 

 

F

ollowing Olraym’s departure Trugaime sits calmly staring at the dead body of Dunarn. His eyes are still open but they are telling any who looks into them that there is nothing there, just an empty shell that used to be occupied. Trugaime doesn’t know why she did it but giving her face and her name to Olraym seemed to her like the right thing to do; she may be an assassin but she knows the difference between right and wrong. Being a Cultist doesn’t change what is right, just changes ones perspective of why one does it.

  Later others come having been informed by Olraym about Dunarn his attack and his death. Those who enter the dungeons look at Trugaime as if she killed both Dunarn and all the prison guards, although some have a similar reaction to her appearance as Olraym had before. She pays them no attention but she is now wondering the same thing as Olraym: who hired her?

  There are many in Tov’ra alone who would want the Cult’s services, but the list is short considering the target. There are high members of high society who wish to influence the balance of power; there are those from Olraym’s past during his well-known leave of absence although not many know where he was at that time. And then there are members of the royal family who wish him harm for whatever reason.

  Although the number of suspects is high, the reasons for it are not and the reasons for wanting her dead are reduced to a single one: to keep her quiet. Clearly her employer did not have any trust in her or the Cult to be silent. As she thinks on this she realises that as she knows nothing about who wanted Olraym dead then why kill her. Either the employer believes she knows more than she actually does or he is too paranoid or angry at her failure.

  Another thought that comes to her is since she failed and is no longer a Cultist, who will replace her? Who will be next to kill Olraym? She considers each of the Cultists she knows one by one. Their skills, their methods and most important, to her anyway, what they each mean to her personally. She has been a cultist all of her life, her parents were Cultists she was brought up with the Cult’s beliefs and customs, and she has known them for most of that time.

  Ten minutes after the other guards arrive they leave with the bodies of Dunarn and the prison guards. Others come and take their place, but to Trugaime they don’t seem any different. A meal is soon given to the prisoners with Trugaime being last, she eats it slowly not out of a desire to savour the taste, the taste is sour and awful but that is prison food, but more to consolidate it; she doesn’t when or if these new prison guards will give her another meal.

  As the day passes other visitors come to see other prisoners, some of the visitors seem to be as bad looking as those they are in the dungeons to visit. Their dirty ragged clothes dangle from their skeletal forms, occasionally their shirts fall from their shoulders and stay there until they notice and pull it back into place. They look as if they should be on the other side of the bars with the others but they aren’t. Trugaime guesses this is because either they haven’t done anything bad enough to warrant time in the dungeons or there is no more room for them.

  Trugaime’s final thoughts of the day are of what everyone’s next moves will be, what will Olraym do? What will the Starlight Cult do? Who will they send? And finally, what will her employer do? She thinks on these for a while to better understand what her next move will be then finally stops and sleeps until sunrise.

 

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After learning of Dunarn’s attack on the dungeons Sertia becomes angrier than anyone has seen her, some even cower at her presence hoping she will not harm them, but that changes as she learns the attack was meant for Trugaime, a name she has not heard yet, and not Olraym. This of course makes her happy again but still a little angry but for a different reason. She is angry it failed. She wonders if she should find someone and, in her own way, get them to kill her, but decides not to since it might draw too much attention.

  She gets Kaila to ask around about the attack, mostly to do with who wanted it done. She does this even though she already knows. She knows who Dunarn is and more importantly knows that Thorne is connected to him. She believes that Dunarn was sent by Thorne to kill the assassin, Trugaime, but not that Trugaime was sent by Thorne to kill Olraym. She knows him to be petty and greedy but not that petty and greedy.

  Kaila returns to Sertia’s chambers with some news, to find Sertia lying on her side on her bed, some of the news is new but mostly it is old. The old being that Dunarn tried to kill the assassin but was instead killed by Olraym, that he killed all the prison guards with fast-working poison slipped into their drinks, the new being  that the assassin is (or was) a Cultist by the name of Trugaime.

  “Trugaime?” says Sertia, “unusual for a name,” she sees Kaila nodding in agreement. Kaila moves closer to the bed and meets with Sertia’s now outstretched hand. “What else have you learned dear Kaila?”  Kaila shakes her head indicating nothing. This disappoints Sertia but she doesn’t stop Kaila from lying on the bed in the same way Sertia is.

  “Nothing of value anyway,” this peaks Sertia’s interest which Kaila notices, “the only other thing is that Prince Olraym has visited her twice and word is he may go again. For more information I’m guessing.”

  “Obviously,” says Sertia but Kaila can tell it means something else.

  They now lie side by side facing each other on the bed with Sertia slowly stroking Kaila’s arm making her smile.

  “This Trugaime doesn’t matter too much but find out who hired her for Olraym, he’s the one that really matters for the future.” Kaila nods distractedly; her attention on Sertia’s stroking arm. Sertia notices and her hand goes higher and higher until her hand is under Kaila’s chin, her hand then covers her chin and pulls Kaila towards her.

  “Understand,” Kaila struggles to nod with Sertia’s hand on her chin but she is successful. Sertia smiles and moves closer as well until they are inches apart. “Good” she whispers and kisses Kaila hard.

 

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By the time Dunarn is dead and about to be buried Queen Moira just finds out about Trugaime’s assassination attempt on Olraym. Due to her painful times of dealing with Gremborlin’s death she only looks a little angry when she discovers the news and that it happened days ago, but inside she is bursting with anger. Her fists are clenched most of the time and her movements are erratic. She goes to Bevil’s office where he is reading some long document, on her arrival he places it on the desk but covers it with other documents. She wonders what the document is but doesn’t ask.

  She does ask about Trugaime; who she is and who wants Olraym dead.  Bevil gives all the information he has on her, which isn’t much. On learning Trugaime is a Cultist Moira slams her clenched fists on the table which fazes Bevil and he looks apologetically at her. 

  Her mood then quickly changes from anger to sadness, tears she has been holding back for days suddenly flow from her eyes like waterfalls. She takes a tissue out of her sleeve, does her best to dry her eyes, and puts it back all within just less than a minute and all under the gaze of a silent Bevil. This time she looks apologetically at him as if sorry for the outburst he just witnessed. He nods in both understanding of the apology and in acceptance of it.

  She soon asks him of Gremborlin’s will, which brings Bevil memories of Sertia’s last visit and he considers what to say, what will be best to tell her without creating a similar incident like Sertia’s visit. But due to their friendship over many years these considerations don’t take long. He tells her the truth: the will is to be read privately in two days. This cheers her up considerably but she still looks tired and run down.

  She soon leaves making Bevil feel good about him but he doesn’t know why. ‘Maybe it might be the way she left looking a little better than when she came in’ he thinks.

  Moira, feeling better, decides to go to the gardens, get some fresh air. Arriving there she sits on the same stone bench her sons sat on some days ago. And just like Olraym she sits quietly to enjoy the serenity and think of events of the past but unlike Olraym’s time in the gardens she also thinks of what may come in the future. Mostly of what is in Gremborlin’s will. Though she is enjoying watching the sky above her she is enjoying being in the shaded gardens more.

  She closes her eyes and bathes in the memories of Gremborlin and for the first time in a long while she genuinely smiles, though no one is around to see it.

  “What am I to do?” she asks herself. She waits for an answer that never comes and then after taking several deep breathes she leaves the gardens and decides to wait for the reading of the will.

  Upon re-entering the castle walls she begins to feel thirsty, so she finds a servant, informs him of her thirst and of where she will be, and walks casually to the main dining hall. She sits at her usual seat and calmly waits for the servant to find her with a drink.  When she obtains her drink she soon hears footfalls coming quickly closer. The sounds are heavy in the vast halls, the feet slamming on the ground, the sounds coming to Moira as one continuous bang as one echo doesn’t die down before the next one comes.

  Moira waits for whoever is making the noise to show him or herself. It soon turns out to be Olraym, who stops suddenly at seeing Moira. They stare at each other for a moment then Olraym slowly enters the main dining room. He looks embarrassed at being so loud even though it was unintentional.

  After more hesitant moments he sits at his usual seat at the table and they continue to stare at each other.

  “Why so loud?” Moira asks finally, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

  “Sorry,” he turns a shade of red and looks away, “I wasn’t concentrating, wasn’t listening. I’m just so confused right now.”

  “Why?” she asks, looking as confused as he feels. He looks to her again.

  “First I get called back here, then father dies, and now someone using the Starlight Cult wants me dead,” at hearing this some of Moira’s anger resurfaces but she is able to control herself and not let it show.

  “What about this assassin in the dungeons, this…Trugaime? What about her?” Moira notices a change in Olraym at the mention of Trugaime’s name. The red tint his skin has becomes darker and the hint of a smile appears. But Olraym seems to not notice his own change. This worries Moira but before she has time to ask he stands and walks out.

  “Where are you going?” 

  “I’m gonna try and get some answers”

  He is soon out of Moira’s sight; she is annoyed at her son for leaving so soon but doesn’t rush to him. She stays seated and finishes her drink.

 

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Harke is man in the intermediate years of his life. He has gone through his childhood relatively unscathed but for a few minor skirmishes with those around him at the same age. In his teen years he studied with great ferocity everything he was taught by both parents and those known as the Elders. He was given a small but sharp dagger and learned to use it, learned the best way to strike, to kill. Then in his later years he had to use his training. Had to find and kill many people, all of them were given to him by those who taught him skills deemed necessary.

  Over the years he watched as others like him went out on their missions, most came back but sometimes they didn’t, either because they died like his mother, or because they failed like his father. Some who failed tried to return but were met with disdain and hatred, even death. But not him; he always gets his target and always returns proud of it.

  Harke is a Starlight Cultist.

  The Elders soon learned of Trugaime’s failure and subsequent capture in Tov’ra. There was a period of mourning at her loss as if to them she is already dead. Later, while alone, the Elders give Harke the task of killing Trugaime’s target. He takes it without question and leaves for Tov’ra the next day.

  The journey from the Cult’s temple to Tov’ra is a long one, even on horseback, but Harke doesn’t complain, just moves forward on and on until he spots the high tops of the high rises, followed by the outer wall of the city, and then finally finds the path down to the main gate.

  The guards at the gate stop him and demand to know why he is at Tov’ra. Harke lies and says he a trader. They stare at him as if waiting for signs of a lie but he stares back, keeping himself steady and unflinching. The guard nearest him nods, backs away, and yells for the gate to open. Harke enters the busy street and listens for the gate to close. It does so with a loud clang and Harke smiles.

  He soon purposefully loses his horse by tethering it to the first place he finds and walking away fast hoping no one notices. Then after walking far enough he makes his way to the castle. He arrives at the castle, takes a long look around; looks at the guards, their numbers and where they are, where they look. He looks at the entrance and how big the door is, how hard it will be for him to open and close it silently and how long it will take. He wonders if there is another way in and if so who would know about it, and how much coin it would take to persuade him. Then he also thinks of the inside; where is his target’s chambers? Where does he usually spend his time? And most important, does he spend time with anyone? And if so, who? He thinks of all these while standing still a few yards from the entrance, no one gives a second glance to the man standing like a statue. He soon realise he has stood still for over ten minutes so he quickly decides not to attempt to enter.

   He leaves and finds the nearest tavern with available rooms. Inside the tavern is empty except for the woman who owns the tavern who is cleaning the counter. She looks in his direction at the sound of the door opening. Her hard expression doesn’t change, she just looks back at the counter and resumes cleaning, using her own spit as cleaner. Harke asks how much coin it is for a room for the night

  “It’s ten gold-per-nights,” is her reply. It is firm, letting him know there is no chance of haggling.

  He looks annoyed but doesn’t haggle. He just reaches into his pocket and gives her the gold. She gestures to her left to a set of wooden stairs.

  “Last door on the left,” he nods and walks up the stairs. He follows her directions and arrives at his bought room; he opens the door and inside is what can loosely be called a bedroom. It is small and cramped; the bed taking up the entire left side although it is still small; to the right is a mahogany chest-of-drawers and above it a small window with lime green curtains. Although the room is small it is very clean, as if recently cleaned. But the thought of it being recently cleaned disgusts Harke because of the way she is cleaning downstairs.

  He removes his brown shoes; letting out a little groan as he does so, and lies down on the small bed and finds his frame just about fits onto it. Part of him is looking forward to seeing this ‘Olraym’, he is curious as to how he forced Trugaime to fail in her task. He knows the basics of Olraym of course; that he is a prince and possibly future king of Tov’ra, but he doesn’t know much of the man himself.

  He is looking forward to it.