Lingering Shadows- Chapter 21

Notes:

• Previous Chapter

• You shall finally get the much desired piece of Aro’s perspective.

• As always, let me know if it’s choppy or weird.

Chapter 21-Who you Are

Artham stared at Esben in absolute shock for a second.

“You’re kidding me.” Artham said. Esben sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Nope.”

“That’s-that’s-”

“Unprecedented? Unacceptable? The whole list of adjectives you’ve already used to describe the Bunges?” Esben asked wearily.

“No! I mean, Yes! But worse! I can’t remember the last time in the history of Aerwiar that the Green Hollows and Anniera haven’t been allies! He can’t do this!” Artham said, slamming his hands down on the table as he got up to pace.

“Yes he can, Artham.” Esben responded.

“No. Absolutely not. He…there must be some law against it or something!”

“I don’t know what we’re gonna do, Arth. I never imagined we’d have to deal with this.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Es.” Artham growled. He turned around and stalked from the room, into the hallway where Bonifer was still waiting.

“Bonifer, where did Bunge go?” He asked.

“He…he left, Artham.” Bonifer answered, a little anxiously.

“Yeah, I know that, but where?” Artham asked, trying not to sound impatient.

“Somewhere in Ban Rona, I suppose. He left the Keep, Throne Warden. Postponed today’s conference meetings for tomorrow.” Artham stood shocked for a second, blinking.

“What?”

“I said-”

“Nevermind,” Artham said, turning around again and going into the room where Esben was still waiting.

“Bunge left. Canceled today’s meetings.” Artham said.

“I heard,” Esben answered with an exasperated sigh. “Of course he would do this,”

“Yeah, but we’re not going to let him,” Artham answered. “We’re going to fight this,” he said as he continued pacing. Esben looked up, cracking a smile as he watched Artham’s face. He began gathering up his things, recognizing the look that said the wheels were turning in Artham’s head.

“Where are we going?” Esben asked.

“First, lunch. I’m starving. They should be setting it out in the main hall right now. Next, the library. I’m sure there’s something in there we can find that will help us fight this.”

“Okay,” Esben said, grateful to be doing something useful.

“I have the papers that cover the terms of the alliance at home,” Esben continued. “We should stop there first.”

“Great,” Artham said. “Sounds like a plan.”

*

About an hour later, Artham and Esben had eaten lunch and gone home, having given Artham’s friends the slip, much to Esben’s amusement. Artham waited impatiently just outside Oak Hill Manor for Esben to come out with his papers. He had a full satchel at his own side, and kept shuffling through it, making sure he heard this and that. He heard shuffling and a few crashes from Esben’s room.

“I’m okay! Owww…” Esben assured Artham, but his shouting was muffled because of the closed and boarded up window. Artham rolled his eyes, wishing Esben would let one of the servants clean his room. He insisted on taking care of it himself though, which meant not taking care of it at all.

Artham heard something off to one side, and whirled around with a hand on the hilt of his sword. He quickly relaxed though, seeing Aro walking up the rutted road to Oak Hill, scuffing his feet in the dirt and kicking at puddles of melted snow.

“Aro!” Artham called. Aro looked up and hastily back down. He glanced around, but the only way back to Oak Hill was the road he was on, and he certainly couldn’t turn around. So he mumbled something like a hello and picked up his pace, walking fast and rather stiffly. He passed Artham very quickly, ducking his head so that Artham couldn’t see his face. Artham realized that something was wrong.

“Aro, stop,” Artham said. Aro paused, but didn’t look back. Artham took a few steps toward him, and Aro took a few steps away.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Artham asked gently. Aro shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said with a harsh tone. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Really?” Artham asked. “Then why aren’t you looking at me?” Aro turned again to leave, but Artham stepped forward and put his hands gently but firmly on the boy’s shoulders, now genuinely concerned that something was wrong. He felt Aro jump at his touch, and stiffen under his hands. Aro breathed hard for a few seconds, then looked up at Artham. His black eyes were flashing angrily, and he had a darkening bruise on the side of his jaw. Artham wasn’t sure how, but he knew that at least some of the anger in Aro’s eyes was directed at him. He let his hands fall from Aro’s shoulders. Aro glared at him for another second, then looked down again.

“What happened?” Artham asked quietly.

“The person who wanted to meet me doesn’t like me very much,” Aro growled.

“I’m sorry I told you to go,” Artham said. After a pause, “Who did this to you, and why did they do it?” He asked, anger edging into his voice. Aro glared up at him suddenly, his black eyes snapping.

“No, Artham! This isn’t your fight! So just leave me alone!” He yelled furiously, turning and running through the open door of Oak Hill, not pausing when he bumped into Esben.

Esben raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and closed the door behind him. He held up a bundle of slightly crumpled papers.

“Found them,” he said, rubbing his elbow. “What was up with Aro?” Artham sighed.

“Someone wanted to meet him, and he didn’t want to go. I told him it was okay, and then I left. Whoever it was got into a fight with him or something. He’s mad at me now,”

“Oh,” Esben said softly. “I’m not sure there’s anything you can do right now. He was pretty mad. He’d probably just yell at you again. So…are we going?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Artham answered. They started to walk away, but Artham looked back for a second. He felt that something was very wrong. So on the way to the Keep, he prayed for Aro.

*

Aro ran into the manor and into his own room, slamming the door as hard as he could behind him with an angry shout, wanting Artham to hear it. He stood, glaring at the door, shaking. He was failing. That’s what the man had told him. He wasn’t doing his job, and the leader was getting angry at him. The man who was the messenger had been pretty angry at him too, suggesting none too softly that he was a traitor, that he was getting soft, that he didn’t want to do his job. And Aro had yelled furiously right back at him, denying his accusations and saying he was handling everything and telling the man to mind his own business.

He hated Artham for saying he was his friend, for caring that he was hurt, for making everything he had to do so much harder. But he hated himself even more for wanting Artham’s friendship. He screamed at himself in his mind, calling himself traitor and coward and fool because he was messing everything up. He didn’t want to do any of this. But if he didn’t he would be betraying his people. Just not wanting was betrayal. The next second, he was calling himself a murderer and liar for what he had to do. He sank to the ground, leaning against his door, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his head on his fists. His mind raced and raced, and he screamed at himself silently for his indecision until he was exhausted and shaking, still angry and conflicted and confused.

It was too late though. He had already gone way too far to turn back. Artham would hate him if he knew what he had already done, what he had been doing every day since he met him. Their leader had promised Aro and the men he considered his brothers power, and respect, told them they would be great warriors if they succeeded in doing this.

Now, Aro was ruining it. Who knew what they would do if he kept failing. But if he helped finish the mission, he would get back everything and more. His brothers, his place, the respect he had only started to earn as a warrior. And he would get rid of all this conflict and confusion. His thoughts fought against what a small place in his heart told him to do.

It’s too late, he reminded himself. It’s too late! So just do what you have to do. He stood up and breathed shakily. He could still prove himself. Everything didn’t have to go wrong. He could keep wearing his lie and running blindly through his confusion, forcing his way to an unseen goal. He left his room quietly, and made his way toward Artham and Esben’s quarters. He paused before he went in, looking around to make sure no one was watching.

The first thing he could do to fix this, he told himself as he opened Esben’s door, feeling vaguely satisfied and scornful in the midst of all his chaos and conflict when he found it unlocked, was find some important information and plans in Esben’s room that would make up for the days he had failed to deliver information. He would still have to keep up his act, of course. He cringed at the thought of having to talk to Artham again. Every day it had become harder to tell the difference between the admiration and friendship that was pretended, and that had become surprisingly and painfully and confusingly real.

It’ll all be over soon, he told himself, It’ll all be over if I just do what I have to. There will be no more confusion, and everything will be okay. I’ll get rid of all of it, even Artham. No more confusion about what I have to do or who I should be. For some reason the thought made him want to cry. He blinked furiously, scorning himself for not having made up his mind. He clenched his fists for a second, and started looking through Esben’s papers, his eyes still full of anger and a shaky purpose.

*

Artham sat at a candlelit table, going through law books and ancient Hollish and Annieran history with a speed that surprised even his brother. Every time the old library attendant, Mr. Sidler, wandered by and asked if he needed help, Artham didn’t look up from his book but asked for five more. Esben tried to help, and at first he helped Artham get books and look through them, adding notes and page numbers to a few sheets of paper they were filling at lightning speed, but after a while, he couldn’t tell one long legal term from another.

So he tried to help in other ways, but every time Artham asked for him to look up a page in one of the hundreds of musty, old, boring books on his table, Esben wound up telling his brother he couldn’t find it. So, after maybe an hour, Esben left. He wound up wandering through the library, drawn to the high hallways that led to bridges that led to platforms on the huge trees outside that led to more bridges. He walked whistling across one of the bridges, grateful to get out of the warm library, and hopefully away from his anxious thoughts. He stood on one of the platforms that few people were using, blocked from view as he looked out at Ban Rona.

So much trouble in such a peaceful looking town, he thought wearily. He didn’t hear the laughter behind him, or the two mock angry, teasing voices until someone exclaimed,

“Lander!” Esben jumped, remembering that that was supposed to be his name to Nia and her friends. He turned around quickly.

“Oh! Uh, hi, Nia! I…what are you doing here?” She laughed at his surprise.

“Picking up some books, of course,” she answered. “Oh, you wanted to meet my cousin, right?”

“Uh, yes,” Esben answered hesitantly.

“This is Malik,” she said, gesturing to the tall, handsome young man behind her. “Malik, this is Lander. He came with the King and Throne Warden from Anniera.” Esben shook the firm hand offered to him with a wide eyed gulp. The man was taller than Artham, and looked stronger too. His original surprise at seeing them faded away, replaced by a growing anxiety as he continued making conversation with them.

He tried to enjoy talking with Nia, and he did, but very quickly learned that she was an only child and Malik was more like a brother to her than a cousin, and despite his annoying, incessant teasing, he was very protective of her. Esben swallowed again, realizing just how much trouble he had gotten himself into as the two of them continued calling him Lander as they walked through the web of bridges and platforms.

If Malik finds out I’ve been lying to Nia, I’m toast. He forced himself to enjoy the conversation, but not nearly as much as he would have enjoyed just talking to Nia. He managed to have a few moments of relaxed fun, especially when Malik challenged him to a race through the trees, not touching the bridges. He managed to beat Nia’s cousin, and he doubled over with laughter with her at his indignant face. Malik eventually laughed too. Despite all that, Esben breathed a sigh of relief when they left, hurrying back to the research section, realizing he had left Artham alone for a little over two hours. He rounded the corner just in time to hear Artham give a cry of victory.