Lingering Shadows-Chapter 49 (Part 1)

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Notes:

• okay…this is…long. I kept it as one chapter though. Next one coming very soon. I already have it written.

• Situations here that the characters haven’t been in before, so I’m really hoping none of them feel weird or out of character. Please let me know if they do…

Chapter 49

They were on their way to the Keep for the last time. Their ship was waiting in the Watercraw, all of their baggage already in the hold. Everyone returning with them to Anniera was also waiting for them on the ship.

Hopefully this final visit would be a quick one. It was a rather busy hour for the roads around the Keep, carriages and horses making the cobbled street ring with the clatter of hoofs and wheels, so the brothers walked. Everyone they passed was watching them, even more than they usually did. Artham grabbed the edge of his cloak and wrapped it around his forearm.

 It was a relatively short distance, much shorter than going to the Keep from Oak Hill, so aside from the reason for their destination, Artham greatly enjoyed the walk. 

A stiff breeze was blowing across the sea, bringing the salty smell of the ocean into Ban Rona. 

Esben was constantly looking in the direction of the Watercraw, taking deep, happy, longing breaths, and Artham realized how much his brother had missed sailing. 

“Excited to get back on the water, Es?” He asked with a smile, and when Esben answered, it was like a small eruption. 

“Yes! So much! I didn’t really think about it until now. But two months surrounded by nothing but houses and roads and trees and…more houses, I feel like I’m suffocating!” 

Artham laughed. 

“Do you think you could possibly survive waiting a few more minutes?” He asked in mock seriousness. 

“Is that a real ‘few minutes,’ or ‘a few minutes’ as the term is used in matters of state?” He asked.

“Hopefully a real ‘few minutes,’” Artham answered with a grin. “If I’m going to give you an approximation, I'd say half an hour at most.”

Esben groaned. “Half an hour? Can we talk about your definition of ‘a few minutes?’” 

Artham smirked. 

“If you survived two months you can survive another half hour or so. 

“Probably,” Esben added. 

They walked in silence for a while, and as they passed the road that led to the waterfront market, and another that led to the Guildling Hall, there were fewer and fewer people on the road. 

“You’ve decided what to do?” Artham asked, even though he was pretty sure of the answer. 

“Yeah,” Esben was quiet for a long while. “I’m going to pardon him.”

 “I thought you would,” Artham said. Esben turned to him with worried eyes. 

“Artham, are you mad at me for pardoning him? Do you think I’m making the wrong decision?”

 “No, I’m not mad at you. Definitely not, Es.” Artham breathed deeply. “As for making the right decision, the Maker made you king. You’ve been training to make the decisions of a king your whole life. Besides,” he continued in a joking voice, with a wry smile. “Should you really be asking someone about important decisions when he just got his head bashed and his thoughts scrambled a week ago?”

Esben smiled, but not much. 

“How’s your head anyway?” He asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

 “Better,” Artham said shortly, not wanting to mention that that morning he had forgotten it was the day of their departure and Bonifer had had to remind him. 

He silently thanked the Maker that the foggy, forgetful moments that he hated so much had grown fewer and further between in the last three or four days. 

“Before you answer, Es, know that I stand by your decision. But I want to know, why did you decide to pardon him?” Artham asked slowly. 

“Lots of things, I guess. I don’t really know. You’re right, he definitely doesn’t act like a kid, but I had to grow up pretty fast too. And we don’t really know anything about his past. I just kept wondering, if I had the life he did,  would I have done anything different?” He looked away. “I know that doesn’t justify anything he did. But- oh, I don't know! Now I’m confusing myself again!” 

“Hey. It’s okay. You don’t need to explain it to me,” Artham said quietly, looking toward the Keep. 

“I just…know that forgiving him is the right thing.” Esben said in a quiet, firm, sure voice. 

The rest of the way, both were lost in their thoughts. The wide doors were open, so they walked into the oddly silent Keep, and Artham realized how huge it looked, dim and empty, the Great Tree shadowed in the far end. 

There was only one person inside other than the brothers, the Durgan that guarded the door to the dungeon. 

As they approached, Artham expected the guard to open the door, but he didn’t.

 “What’s yer business here?” The Durgan asked, looking the brothers over from head to toe. 

Artham groaned inwardly. Of all the Durgans who could have been on duty at the moment, why did it have to be Nibbick Bunge? Connolin growled. 

Artham glanced down at Esben, who was clearly at a loss for a good explanation. 

“The King doesn’t need too explain his business to you, Nibbick. Is one of your commanders nearby?”

Nibbick turned to Artham, smirking. 

“Ye aren’t lookin’ too good, Artham. Quite the bruise you got there. Ya run into a wall or something?”

Artham stopped for a moment, wondering if Nibbick really didn’t know. 

“No, I had a run in with someone with a very large, heavy shield,” Artham answered flatly. “Could you please let us in or at least let us talk with your commander?” 

“I’m under orders not to let anyone in unless they have specific permission,” Nibbick stated, obviously enjoying relating this news, enough that Artham wondered if those even were his orders. 

“Now, tell me what ya want in the dungeon, Esben,” Nibbick demanded, stepping closer to Esben, looking down at him with a glare that practically dared Esben to step back. 

Artham stepped between them, in the back of his mind annoyed that Nibbick was, and always had been, taller than him. 

“We’re here for one of the prisoners,” Artham stated. 

Nibbick smirked. “Which one?” 

“The Wanderer,” Esben said, stepping away so that he wasn’t directly behind his brother. 

Nibbick turned his gaze to Esben, a scornful, questioning look on his face. 

“Now why in Aerwiar do you want Woefolk scum out of that dungeon?”

Esben hesitated and Artham remembered their conversation on the way over.

Now I’m confusing myself again! He had said. He had the same look in his eyes now as he had then..

 “Nibbick, you are not in a position to demand answers from the High King. We are dealing with \ a matter of state and an instance of offense against the crown, and this prisoner is involved. If you wont let us in to get him, please bring him up.”

Nibbick glared at him.

 “There ain’t one good reason I should do what you say. This ain’t your country,” he snarled.

 “Then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll ask the Durgan making rounds outside,” Artham said, turning as if to go. 

Nibbick shoved Artham back hard, his hand slamming into Artham’s arm. He turned and yanked a ring of keys from his belt and jammed one into the door. 

Esben glanced at Artham, who had stepped back a few paces when Nibbick pushed him, then turned angrily toward Nibbick.

 “I’m fine, Es,” Artham said quietly, gesturing to his brother to wait as Nibbick stormed into the dark hall and disappeared around the corner, snatching a single torch off the wall along the way. 

Artham heard Esben let out a huff.

 “He’s in top form today,” Esben muttered. 

“Yeah,” Artham agreed, rubbing his arm. After a pause, Esben spoke again.

 “Artham? I don't really know what’s supposed to happen now.” 

Artham exhaled slowly. “Me either. I suppose we just have to figure it out as we go.”

They heard two sets of footsteps coming up the hall, one heavy, fast, and angry, the other lighter and a little uneven.

Nibbick stormed around the corner and jammed the torch back in its metal support on the wall, his other hand grabbing the few inches of chain between Aro’s handcuffs. 

Aro hadn’t seen the brothers yet. When the light fell on his face he turned away, squinting, and tried to step back. Artham realized that Aro hadn’t seen daylight in nine days, and as dim as it was inside the Keep, it was even darker in the dungeon.

 “Come on,” Nibbick growled, yanking the chain so that Aro tripped forward and would have fallen but for Nibbick’s hold on his handcuffs. Nibbick was facing the brothers, and Aro’s back was to them. 

For a second Aro squinted and blinked in the light, then straightened his shoulders, tossing the hair out of his eyes and lifting his chin to glare at Nibbick. Aro seemed to hesitate for a minute, shifting his shoulders.

Nibbick looked more angry then when he had gone down, and Aro was breathing hard. Artham noticed a scrape across the back of his hand and a slowly fading red mark across his cheekbone. 

Artham realized exactly what Aro wanted to do so suddenly that he almost laughed, then immediately realized that he needed to prevent it from happening.

Because of a combination of Nibbick having his guard down and the fact that he greatly underestimated the short, skinny young Wanderer, he was standing in front of Aro in a way that would have made it ridiculously easy for Aro to slam his shoulder into Nibbick’s gut. 

Artham stepped forward and was about to say something when Esben spoke. 

“Thank you, Nibbick. May I have your keys for a moment?”

Aro jerked around when he heard Esben’s voice. His face was pale and his jaw set in grim determination. 

Esben asked Nibbick something so quietly that Artham couldn’t hear. Nibbick scoffed, but let Esben take the ring, rather unwillingly.

“Why in Aerwiar-”

 “Please just tell me, Nibbick.”

Nibbick shook his head, looking not only disapproving and scornful but disgustedly confused. “That one,” he said, pointing to a key on the chain. Esben took it off the ring and handed the rest back to Nibbick, then stepped to Aro.

Aro seemed like he was trying to say something. Esben glanced up at Artham uncertainly, then waited. Artham watched as Aro seemed to struggle. Whatever he was about to say, it was obviously hard for him. One moment his dark eyes were fearful, the next they flashed in anger. Then in such a small flicker that Esben later wondered if he had imagined it, he saw a deep, long-standing hurt like he had never seen in Aro show on his face. 

Then Aro shook his head and it was all replaced by a grim, fearful determination to say what he had to because it was important and he knew he needed to say it, even though he didn’t know why and even though he was thinking of his future in terms of a few more hours.

 “I’m sorry. F-for everything. I… I’m sorry I hurt you.” He looked at the ground, taking deep, shuddering breaths. 

Artham watched as Esben knelt in front of Aro and waited until the boy met his eyes. 

“You are forgiven, Aro,” he said firmly,with a deep joy filling his serious voice as he inserted the key into the metal bands around Aro’s wrists, unlocking the cuffs and tossing them to the ground. “I’m pardoning you.” 

Aro looked at him in utter bewilderment. 

“What?” He asked, confusion and disbelief on every feature of his face. 

“When we get to Anniera, I’ll issue an official pardon, but right now you can know that everything you did against me is forgiven.”

A hundred different thoughts and emotions fought for Aro’s attention and showed on his face. His world was changing again in ways he couldn’t begin to understand.

 “Why?” He finally managed to ask incredulously.

 “Forgiveness doesn’t need a reason. At least not the kind you’re thinking of. Now the only thing you have to do is accept it. Come with us to the Watercraw so we can go home, to Anniera.” Esben stood up. Aro looked away, then nodded uncertainly. 

“Let’s go,” Esben said,smiling. After hesitating a moment longer, Aro followed him.

Artham and Connolin came last, following Esben and Aro, closing the Keep doors behind them. 

They made for the Watercraw then, Aro walking between the brothers. They walked mostly in silence until Artham spoke. 

“When we get to the Watercraw, if he asks, I’ll tell Myndik what we talked about yesterday, right?” 

Esben shook his head. 

“I’m the one he needs to hear it from, Arth. But thanks for helping me know what to say.” After then no one said a word until they reached the waterfront.

Aro stopped when he saw the crowd of people. Esben’s eyes lit up when he spotted someone and he walked ahead quickly. 

Aro looked up at Artham nervously. 

“It’s okay, Aro,” Artham said.

“Do a lot of people know?” He asked quietly. 

“No.”

Aro nodded and followed Artham into the crowd, stepping close to him and instinctively keeping his head down. 

Esben was at the dock with Nia, his face lit up as they talked. 

“-and thank you so much for everything,” Esben was saying.  “This trip was was mostly awful and you made it’s lot less awful. I-I mean, I really enjoyed getting to know you, and I have this for you.” He reached into his satchel-Artham had wondered why Esben had been carrying such a large satchel- and pulled out a painting, the wooden frame the canvas was stretched on carefully cut on both sides so that it folded down, concealing the picture. 

He handed it to Nia, and his heart raced at her exclamation of delight and the feeling of her fingers brushing his when she took the frame. 

“Look at it when I leave,” Esben finished, seeing she was about to unfold it. She nodded and smiled. 

“Thank you, Esben.”

 “I hope I can see you again soon,” Esben said. 

“Me too,” Nia responded. 

Artham was close to the two of them now. He saw Myndik coming towards them. Esben saw it too, because he turned and smiled one last time at the girl in front of him. 

“Goodbye, Nia,” he said. 

“Bye, Esben,” she answered, matching his smile with her own, her eyes lit up and sparkling.

Esben then turned and walked too where Artham and Aro were waiting for him. He reached them just as Myndik came up. 

“Hello, Wingfeathers,” he growled. 

“Hello, Keeper,” Artham said. 

“Me son tell me that ye want to set this here criminal free.” 

“That’s right, Keeper,” Esben said. “We’re taking him to Anniera.”

 “He tried to kill you, Wingfeather. Only a weakling would let an enemy get away with that. Besides, you ain’t takin’ him anywhere. Crimes committed in the Hollows are punished in the Hollows.”

Again Artham fervently wished he could tell Myndik to shut up, and Esben was thinking very resentfully of a certain boot and the Banick Durga. Some Hollis’s customs needed to be rethought. But now would be the worst possible time to say that. Esben ignored Myndik’s insult and spoke calmly. 

“Keeper, this boy’s crimes were against Anniera and Anniera only. It's standard procedure to take him to Anniera and deal with said crimes there as we see fit.” 

Aro’s head shot up at Esben's words and he looked at Artham fearfully. 

“Don’t worry, I promise, he’s just saying that to get you out of here. My brother would never, ever break his word,”Artham told him in a whisper, bending over slightly. Aro nodded, still looking around nervously. Anywhere except at Myndik. 

Esben continued. 

“You can’t convict him of a single crime against the Hollows, not even tresspassing, because he came from Anniera with us with your full knowledge. May we please proceed to our ship now, Keeper?”

Myndik laughed. 

“If you want your little Wanderer, you can have him. Like I told you, I want you and your problems out of my country. Goodbye, Esben,” he said, for the last time refusing to bow or acknowledge Esben’s title. 

That was surprisingly easy, Artham thought.

 “Excellently done, Your Majesty,” he whispered. Esben’s eyes followed Myndik’s retreating form through the crowd. 

“Good riddance,” he muttered, and Artham laughed.