Lingering Shadows-Chapter 20

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Chapter 20-Mixed up

Esben breathed a sigh of relief as Artham disappeared down the road. His brother’s very presence had begun to get on his nerves. He looked at the clouds that threatened to pour down snow on the world, grinning at memories of sled rides and snowball fights, and ambushing Artham in the snow, tackling him to the ground and usually winding up surrendering to Artham because the snow his older brother was holding him down in was far too cold. He really hoped it would snow soon. He looked down from the sky at the mostly deserted road in front of the Keep. Most people were at work or at the Guildling Hall, but a trickle of people made their way down the streets.

He stood for a moment, watching them, and then he stood up straight, a grin spreading over his face. There was that girl-Nia Helmer was her name, and for some reason as soon as he saw her, he really wanted to talk to her again. She had just come in sight, walking toward the Keep. He hurriedly tried to undo the clasp to his regal-looking cloak, much to his embarrassment getting tangled in the thick red cloth and falling to the ground. He scrambled up before anyone could help him up, jerked off the cloak and threw it in a ball at a damp bench, and excused himself from the few servants and Bonifer who were watching their King’s odd behavior with concern and amusement.

He half walked, half ran down to the fence, feeling the cold air whistle its way into all the warm places on his neck and arms that the cloak had covered. She was closer now, carrying a large covered basket, her free arm swinging and her lips moving to a song no one else could hear. Her chin was lifted and instead of watching the road in front of her, she looked out at the hills on the horizon. He stopped at the fence, pausing a second to watch her approach. She was closer now, and he could hear her humming.

“Nia!” He called, waving when she looked away from the sky and toward him. She smiled and waved back, changing the course of her walk in his direction.

“Hello, Lander, It’s nice to see you again,” she said, pausing on the other side of the fence. Esben’s happiness wavered. He didn’t like hearing that name spoken on Nia’s lips, in her beautiful accent. He groped for something to say, feeling increasingly awkward. Nia seemed to realize it because she smiled hesitantly and asked,

“How have you been doing? I haven’t seen you for the last couple of days.”

“Oh, uh, you didn’t hear?” He asked. Nia frowned.

“I heard my grandfather talking about something wrong, but I didn’t hear all of it.” Esben’s heart raced. How in Aerwiar was he going to explain this to her?

“Um…well…someone tried to get into the King’s room while he wasn’t there…”

“Oh,” her face flooded with concern, and Esben felt a pang of guilt. That’s a lie! You’re lying to her! His conscience whispered to him. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, Esben reasoned, trying to get rid of the incredibly uncomfortable feeling of guilt.

“But everyone was okay, right?” Nia asked. But you are hiding who you are! His conscience kept nagging him. I only changed my name. I am being who I am, he argued with himself. He realized Nia was looking at him worriedly.

“Oh, um yeah, no one got hurt. They’re still looking for whoever did it.” Names have power, the little voice whispered one last time, and then Esben was able to push it into the edges of his thoughts.

“But how are you doing?” Nia asked.

“Good! I mean, well, considering everything…yeah. Good. Worried but good.” She smiled, and it made Esben want more than ever to have her friendship.

“You?” He asked.

“I’m headed to my cousin’s house, taking some fresh berry bread my mother made as a gift for them. You said you wanted to meet my cousin, right? Would you like to come? I think you’d like Malik.” Esben grinned, any and every thought of assassins and conferences and alliances flying from his mind.

“Sure,” he said, scrambling over the fence, his grin getting wider when Nia laughed. Esben offered to carry her basket and they walked up the road for a few minutes, talking, and while the Keep was still in sight, Esben felt a cold prickle on his face. He looked up. The heavy clouds were low over Ban Rona, and tiny white flakes fell from the sky. Nia gave a beautiful exclamation of delight, and Esben turned to see her with her face uplifted and her eyes closed, laughing at the feel of the snow on her face, her arms lifted slightly from her sides. His heart beat harder for a second, watching the white flecks adorning her dark hair and pink cheeks. She looked at him, her smile happier than it had been since he had first met him.

“I love the snow,” she said. “It’s beautiful and amazing and fun,” Esben’s words caught in his throat, and he had just convinced them to make their way into his mouth, when he heard a heavy wagon in the distance. He turned around and saw a wagon approaching the Keep. Myndik Bunge was riding in it with his son. The Keeper was back in Ban Rona, and he was about to go in the Keep and find that the King was gone.

“Oh no,” Esben whispered under his breath in horror.

“What’s wrong, Lander?” Nia asked. Esben turned to her, too many words getting stuck in his mouth.

“I’m so, so sorry, but I really have to go. He’s here now, and I’m not- I should- I’m really sorry but I just remembered that I wasn’t supposed to go.” Nia nodded and took her basket from Esben’s hands.

“It’s alright, I’m sorry if I distracted you from your work. It was a pleasure walking with you, Lander,” she said with another one of her amazing, sweet smiles. Esben tried to smile back, stuttered through a goodbye, and finally turned and tore down the street in the direction of the Keep, tripping two seconds after he had started, catching himself just before he actually fell, and continued running as the snow fell over him and the street and Ban Rona, and while Esben’s mind was full of chaotic thoughts, he kept that one image with him, Nia with her back to him, holding a basket, wrapped in a bright colored cloak, her dark hair adorned with bright jewels of snow. Her hand uplifted to the sky to catch snowflakes. He would paint it when he had time.

*

When Esben jumped the fence to the Keep without even touching it, the huge yard was deserted. Except for Bonifer, who had been waiting for him outside the door.

“There you are, lad! Where have you been?” Bonifer asked, stepping toward Esben as the High King darted to the bench where he had left his cloak, pulling it on crookedly and groaning when he saw the dark patches where the bench and the snow had gotten it wet. And dirty, for that matter. Bonifer saw Esben’s distress, and stepped further into the snow, placing his hands on Esben’s shoulders.

Esben was still breathing hard, but he paused, looking Bonifer in the eyes, closing his mouth tightly, wanting Bonifer to say something that would calm him, something that would keep him afloat right now.

Why in Aerwiar did I have to send Artham away just now? He asked himself in frustration. Bonifer waited until Esben’s face went from panicked to simply a calm despair. Then his hands moved, straightening the clasp of Esben’s cloak, handing the young King his crown, smiling when Esben tried to flatten the windblown hair before setting the golden circle on it.

“Don’t worry about it, lad,” Bonifer said calmly. “He has kept you waiting this long, it's no crime for you to be late. He wants to see you flustered and weak. Don’t give him that.” Bonifer looked Esben in the eye.

“Calm yourself, and act like the amazing king you truly are. You have strength, Esben Wingfeather. Don’t let that horrid Bunge fellow shake you down.” Esben smiled with relief, finally breathing normally, and clasped Bonifer’s hand gratefully.

“Thank you, Bonifer.” He said, then followed Bonifer inside. To his surprise, Mydik wasn’t at the huge table inside the main room of the Keep. The rest of the dignitaries were, but Bonifer led him down a hallway, and Esben knew before he rounded the corner that Myndik would be waiting for him there. He was right. Myndik Bunge was waiting for him, and stepped forward to shake Esben’s hand with a smile that made the young King incredibly nervous. Esben realized that he only came about halfway up Myndik’s chest. He tried to stand taller, but he felt incredibly small. Myndik didn’t bow. Nibbik smirked in the corner with his arms crossed, but Esben ignored him.

“Your Highness, I’m so glad to finally make yer acquaintance officially,” Myndik said, his tone implying that Esben’s lateness was the reason they were so late in meeting, and Esben could feel the huge man’s eyes sweeping over his very un-flattened, windblown hair, cheeks red from running and from the cold, and his dirty but straight cloak. Myndik smiled condescendingly. Esben cleared his throat, desperately wishing that Artham was standing beside him. He knew Artham would practically be glaring daggers at Myndik, and that would be very helpful at the moment.

“Yes, Keeper. It is my pleasure to meet you, but I would like to know why you weren’t here to meet us in the first place.” The Keeper nodded, putting a heavy hand on Esben’s shoulder with a familiarity that made Esben cringe.

“Of course! Of course, young Highness. I will be happy to explain things to ye. I believe that because of the circumstances, we should meet privately, aye, your Highness?” Esben looked to Bonifer, then managed to say,

“I would prefer to wait until my brother returns,”

“Oh, don’t worry! Nothing will become of you, lad. Guards’ll be in the room with us. I think it’s better to meet privately, just to prevent the general public from drawing the wrong conclusions from our discussion.” Esben nodded.

“I-I believe you’re right, Keeper.”

“Of course I am!” The man said with a warm, deep laugh. Bonifer frowned, but then gave Esben an encouraging smile when the King looked at him.

Myndik entered the small meeting room, gesturing for Esben to follow him in. Esben did, feeling great relief that the four guards inside were Annieran. Myndik shut the door behind him.

*

They were almost back at the Keep. Artham had told everyone to come with him back to the conference, where hopefully they could get updated on the situation. He and Connolin still felt on top of the world, laughing with Dru, Io, Aspen and Josif. Artham had forgotten about Aro, though, and was reminded when the boy wormed his way through the crowd surrounding Artham and ran over to walk with him, as if drawn by magnetic force. Despite his grown up carriage, he still looked small in the midst of a bunch of eighteen and nineteen year olds.

“Who’s this, Artham?” Aspen asked with a grin, sticking out a hand to Aro. “I’m Aspen, kid. Artham here doesn’t like to admit it, but I rival even him in sword fighting.” Aro shook the outgoing young man’s hand hesitantly, replying with just one word, his name. Then he looked up at Artham with a question in his eyes. Artham laughed, shoving Aspen away.

“Ignore him, Aro. His tall tales carry him away sometimes. Aro, these are Dru, Josif and Io. Guys, Aro. He’s my…” Artham paused for a moment, having forgotten what Aro’s job was, but even when he remembered, he answered a little differently.

“He’s officially my scribe, but he’s my friend too, not like the other scribes the council assigned me. Aspen, that means be nice to him, got that? No pranks, you hear me?” Artham said with a wry smile. Aro’s mouth dropped open a second in surprise, then snapped shut. He tried to hide a smile so wide it lit up his whole face. Artham had called him his friend! But soon he returned to scuffing his feet in the dirt and listening to Artham and his friends talk. Artham looked out past the road, and suddenly his face filled with concern.

“There’s the Keep,” he said. “Guys, I’m going to run ahead to make sure everything’s okay. I’m technically supposed to be there already.

“Go ahead,” Io said, putting an arm around Aspen’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure this one doesn’t get lost on the way.”

“Io! How could I get lost? It’s literally in sight!” Aspen said, shoving Io off him and into Josif. Josif’s serious expression didn’t change, but Artham thought he saw his lips twitch in amusement as he stiffly helped Io regain his balance. Artham made eye contact with Dru that said something along the lines of, Please don’t let those two blow up Ban Rona, then he hurried off with Aro and Connolin at his heels.

“They were a little…” Aro began.

“Crazy?” Artham asked. Aro nodded but didn’t answer. Artham looked down to see him looking wide eyed across the street, where someone was beckoning for him to come. Aro quickly looked away and watched the dirt very studiously.

“Aro, if you need to go do something, I really don’t need you right now,” Aro looked up with his stubborn frown.

“No, Artham I want-”

“Its okay, Aro. I know you have a life outside of working for me,” Artham said with a smile. He turned around and jogged a few steps to the Keep backwards so he could see Aro’s face.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” he said. Connolin barked, recognizing a food word. Artham turned around and headed to the Keep.

Aro stood alone in the road, hesitating, but Artham’s loud and rather scary (at least the one called Aspen) friends were heading toward him, so after he stood for one second longer, closing his eyes tightly and clenching his fists, Aro ran across the street to the beckoning figure.

*

Artham felt increasing anxiety as he went through the Keep’s very empty yard and into the full main hall that was lacking Esben. He asked where his brother was.

“In that room with the Keeper,” one of the young serving girls told him, gasping when he said thank you and ran off. Artham barely had time to be annoyed when he was overwhelmed with surprise and frustration that the Keeper had arrived, and he hadn’t been there! Artham opened the door to the hall without knocking, and walked quickly down the hall, his footsteps echoing. He turned the corner to see a self satisfied Nibbick Bunge and an anxious looking Bonifer. He saw the other door and without even nodding to the two, he stepped forward to open it. In one moment, Nibbik was in his way, gripping his shoulders painfully with a smirk. Artham tried to push Nibbik away without using much force, but Nibbick just grabbed his shoulders tighter, and Artham gritted his teeth. He also really hated that Nibbik was still taller than him.

“My father and your King are in there. Talking privately.” Nibbik said. Artham scoffed.

“Yeah, okay, but for Esben privately means with me. So move, Bunge,” Artham said, shrugging his shoulder to try and shake off Nibbik’s hand. He felt a sharper pang of pain in his shoulder than he had felt in quite a few days. He started to get angry. He knew he could wipe the floor with Nibbik if he wanted too, but he really didn’t want to get into a fight. Well, he did, but it would be terrible for diplomatic relations. Then the door opened, and Myndik walked out. Nibbik released Artham, and one of Artham’s hands went involuntarily to his aching shoulder. Myndik walked past him with only a nod, and left with Nibbik following him. Artham rushed into the open room. He had been imagining a dungeon cell for some reason, but it was a bright, open room, with a table and two chairs. One was pushed back, and Esben sat on the other, his head in his hands and his elbows on the table.

“Es, what happened here?” Artham said, fury sparking in his eyes again. “Did he-oh he’s gonna pay for this,” Artham said, whirling around.

“Artham wait,” Esben said, looking up. The two Annieran guards inside the door, at Esben’s words, grabbed Artham by his arms, and though he struggled for a second, he shrugged them off and took the chair the Keeper had left at the table.

“Artham, don’t think like that,” Esben said. “I’m okay.”

“Then what did he say to leave you like this,” Artham asked furiously, referring to Esben’s tired look and the defeat in his eyes. Esben sighed.

“Myndik Bunge doesn’t want to renew the alliance between Anniera and the Green Hollows.”