Lingering Shadows-Chapter 47

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Chapter 47

Artham quickly left the Keep, barely glancing at the prison guards. Entirely too focused on what had just been said in the dungeon and everything that it meant, he didn’t even remember that he had come to the Keep by carriage.

He walked back to Oak Hill, going by a back road that was mostly unpopulated at this hour of the morning. It wasn’t through the woods though. Something in him didn’t want to go back that way, at least not yet.

The sun was out and shining brightly, and most of the snow had melted away. It had been more than a week since he had been hurt, and in that time the air had filled with the fresh promise of spring.

It was almost too bright though, because when he was almost back at Oak Hill a wave of dizziness struck him. The ground seemed to shift slightly and for a moment the shadows grew darker as the light places blazed.

He paused, putting a hand to one of the trees lining the road, closing his eyes and touching his head, wincing at the headache that had started pounding again.

After a moment he walked on, regretfully remembering the carriage.

He was only a few minutes away from Oak Hill though, and by now he was sick of the constant exhaustion, pain and confusion. He hated not even being able to walk home from the Keep without starting to hurt again and feeling like he was about to pass out.

It had only been eight days. More than a week. Much longer and it would probably drive him crazy. He knew he should be resting more so he could heal better, and he really did try. Even with all of Dr. Idrion’s cautions and warnings, it was ridiculously hard for someone who was so used to being constantly on the move.

He made it back to Oak Hill and quickly made for his room. Connolin had been waiting for him at the door and followed him, tail wagging happily.

Artham ignored the few servants and pages he passed, and brushed quickly by Thaerin. He felt a little bad about this, but he needed to be alone to be able to think. Also he felt like he was about to collapse and if head going to, he needed to be somewhere he could rest without anyone else around.

Esben heard his brother’s uneven footsteps storm down the hall and into Artham’s room. He set down his paintbrush, tilting his head towards the wall as he listened. He heard the door bang open and after a moment slam closed. The sound was muffled then, but the windows of both rooms were open, so Esben heard Artham’s quiet grunt of pain and low, shuddering sigh.

He closed his sketchbook and stood up, walking out his door and just a few steps down the hall to his brother’s.

He stood at the door, listening, but he didn’t hear anything else. He knocked warily and heard movement inside, a chair scraping across the floor.

“Come in, Es,” Artham called from inside.

Esben opened the door and entered.

Artham stood next to his desk, staring out the window with his back to his brother, rubbing at his wrist and elbow, avoiding the bandage still around his forearm.

“What happened?” Esben asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Forgot about the arm again, pushed the door open and slammed it shut,” Artham muttered. “It's not bad though.”

Esben paused for a minute.

“And…what happened with…Aro?”

Artham sighed heavily.

“Aro was the one who shot at us in Anniera. Not only did he spy on us, he tried to murder you. He hurt both of us.”

Esben stared at him with an expression of shock. Artham watched as his brother remembered, his thoughts flying back to that day.

“Th-that was him?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“Oh…what’s going to happen to him?” Esben asked, concern and distress showing plainly on his face.

Artham put a hand to his aching head.

“You know what the law is, Es. He tried to assassinate the High King,” he said, exhaustion edging his voice.

Esben shook his head. “I still can’t believe he did that!”

“Why not?” Artham asked angrily. “He didn’t hesitate to help them try to kill you again last time. He’s been spying on us and betraying us this whole time! Every time you were in danger, it was because he made it possible.”

“It’s not like all of this was his fault, Artham! He wasn’t the one who planned it, he wasn’t in charge.”

Artham shook his head very slightly.

“You know that doesn’t change what he did.”

“He’s younger than I am!”

“He certainly doesn’t act younger than you. Stop thinking about him like a kid. He’s a Wanderer and a warrior. For the Wanderers to trust him to do something as important as killing the High King of Anniera? He’s probably done things you would never dream of doing.”

“You can’t just assume that, Artham,” Esben protested.

“Why are you defending him, Esben!? He tried to end your life!” Artham realized that their voices had risen to shouts. Pain was hammering in his head and his vision was getting a little blurry again.

“Because he saved yours!”

“What are you talking about?” Artham asked quietly. Yelling hurt.

Esben started to answer and then stopped, looking out the window. There was a short pause.

“Es, you still haven’t told me what happened after I was knocked out.”

Esben still hesitated. But he was going to have to tell Artham at some point, and it seemed now was the time.

*

Eight days earlier…

Esben leaned hard against the wall, eyes tightly closed, hands pressed to his leg and trying hard not to pass out. His head was spinning and the pain in his leg made it worse.

He knew Artham was fighting the leader. But the last thing he had seen before his opponent had slashed him across the leg and before Esben had defeated him was Artham pinning the leader to the ground.

A long, metallic ringing echoed in his head, from the exhaustion and pain and the horror of everything that had already happened. When it finally faded, the cabin was full of sound. A shout and a loud crash and a cry of pain. He looked up in time to see both Artham and Ryith hit the ground.

His eyes went wide and he stepped forward, stumbling before he steadied himself. He only glanced at Ryith long enough to see that he wasn’t going to get back up again.

But his sights were on his brother, collapsed on the dirt floor.

He ran over, limping badly and gritting his teeth. He went to his knees beside the still form on the ground.

“Artham! Artham, can you hear me?” Esben practically shouted, grabbing his brother’s shoulder and breathing hard.

Artham was hurt in too many small ways but Esben’s eyes were on the long, jagged gash that tore across Artham’s forearm, and his head. It had already started to bruise but whatever had hit him had done it hard enough to leave a deep cut on his forehead.

Esben’s chest was heaving and panic was rising slowly inside him. Every second seemed like hours.

Artham’s breathing was shallow and his skin was cold, and Esben told himself it was just because of the winter outside. Esben was no doctor, but he could tell that Artham was bleeding too much, too fast.

He ripped a large strip of cloth from his tunic and pressed the wad to Artham’s arm.

“Artham please wake up!” He couldn’t do this. Not again. He couldn’t lose someone else he loved.

Maker, let him be alright! Don’t take him from me too!

His hands were shaking and his mind was racing and he didn’t know what to do.

The cold had turned his fingers numb and clumsy as he tried to tie the cloth around his brother’s arm. Whatever he was trying to do, it wasn’t working. At all.

He couldn’t leave his brother like this. But he needed to go get help, back at the town or at the Keep. But even if he did would he get back too late?

Maker help us! He prayed desperately through his halting, gasping breaths and the tears that he blinked away.

One more awful, frozen second passed.

Then he heard barking. Barking and something crashing wildly through the woods.

A dirty, damp Connolin bounded through the open door with a growl.

“Connolin?” Esben looked at him in surprise.

The dog ran around the room, back and forth between the fallen Warriors, growling furiously. When he was sure that there was no more immediate danger, in the room he raced over to Artham and Esben. He sniffed at Artham, nudging his head under Artham’s hand. When Artham didn’t move,he flopped to the ground and put his head on Artham’s chest, whining and looking up at Esben.

There were more noises from the woods now, running footsteps and shouts. Esben pushed himself up and stepped forward, intending to run for the door, but he had forgotten about his wounded leg and it crumpled beneath him when he put weight on it.

He winced as he got up again and made himself keep going. He stepped outside, and the night air was even colder than it was in the cabin.

He recognized Dru’s voice above the others.

“Over here!” Esben shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth.

“We’re here! Help!”

The tone of the voices changed, relieved and eager. Now he could see lamplight flickering through the woods.

Dru broke through the tree line, not bothering to brush away the twigs in his hair.

“Esben,” he shouted, relief washing over his face. As he ran up he turned and called something to to the Durgans behind him.

“Where’s Artham?” he asked in concern.

“Inside. He needs help,” Esben gasped, limping as he went back to the cabin and to his brother. Dru, Aspen, Josif and Io followed close behind him. They stood appalled for a second in the doorway, looking around the small room where so much had happened.

Dru was the first to go into action.

“Josif,” he said, turning to his friends. “See what you can do for Artham. It doesn’t have to be much, just hold him over until we get him to the Keep. Aspen, you’re the fastest. Run back to Oak Hill and get Dr. Idrion. Now.” Aspen nodded, turned, and ran.

Dru stepped outside for a moment.

“Durgans, please search the area and make sure there aren’t any more Wanderers. A few of you help Io and me get the Throne Warden and the King to the Keep.”

Dru was not in a position to command the Durgans, but the commander of the group turned and relayed the same orders, and in a moment everyone was doing something.

Esben had gone back inside, and when Dru stepped into the cabin again, he was kneeling beside Artham, watching Josif wrap a long, thick strip of cloth torn from his cloak tightly around Artham’s forearm, Josif’s face intense in concentration. Esben watched and didn’t move, ignoring his own pain, his wide eyes not leaving his brother’s face. His shoulders bent forward slightly and his hands rested on his knees.

Dru stepped over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It's going to be okay,” he said softly. Esben shook his head.

“You can’t know that!” He said, wanting with everything in him to believe Dru’s words but so, so afraid that they weren’t true.

*

Esben didn’t tell everything to Artham, but he told him enough.

“…so Dru and Io got you back to the Keep, and when we got there, Dr. Idrion was waiting for us,” he finished.

Artham had held his brother’s gaze the whole time they talked. He knew he wasn’t getting all the details, but he wasn’t going to press for them.

“So what does this have to do with Aro?” He asked. “You say he had something to do with saving my life. It sounds like it was you, Dru, Aspen and the others.”

“Just listen for a minute, okay? When Aro ran, he went to the Keep. He got there before Connolin. He was the one who convinced them to come and told them where it was, and they got to the cabin right on time. He risked his life. And when we got to the Keep, Dr. Idrion-” Esben paused. “Have you ever seen him focused on something really, really serious?” It's like he doesn’t see or hear anything else. I probably asked him about a hundred questions in the first five seconds, and he didn’t answer a single one. He just kept right on working on you, with this incredibly serious,focused look on his face. Thaerin had to make me sit down to work on my leg, and he tried to answer my questions. The thing is, after he had done everything he could, Dr. Idrion said that if we had come just a little bit later…that you…you might not have made it. If Aro hadn’t run and gotten the guys at the Keep, then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here right now. It certainly wasn’t all his doing, but he had a part in saving your life.” Esben finished and exhaled slowly, watching as Artham thought.

Artham leaned back a little,putting his hand to his desk to steady himself. He didn’t quite know what to do with this new information and what it added to the situation.

“Even if that’s true, he still tried to kill you. And because of what he did, because of what he made possible-” he broke off for a moment.

“Es, I had to kill people to make sure you got out of there alive.So did you. I can’t go back from that.” Artham avoided meeting his brother’s eyes and looked out the window again. He was still dealing with this, yet another tangled, messy problem that came from the events of that winter. He kept telling himself that he had done the right thing. He knew that he would do it all over again to save Esben, but the lives that had been taken at the end of his sword still weighed heavily on him.

He knew that Esben was probably feeling some of the same things, but in his brother’s case, most of it had been purely self-defense, and when he had gotten his hands free there hadn’t been a choice.

It had all been to protect Esben. He knew he had been doing the right thing, but that didn’t stop the thoughts that came in the aftermath.

There was silence after that, and Artham realized that Esben was waiting for something. He turned and met his brother’s eyes.

“So because of that, you want Aro to die too? Because that’s what the law requires,” Esben stated.

Artham stopped. He shook his head haltingly.

“No. No…I don't want that.”

Esben sighed. “I didn’t think you did.”

“But what can you do about it? If that’s the law?” Artham asked. He finally sat down in his armchair and almost unintentionally put a hand to his head again, trying to focus on the conversation through the dizzy throbbing that was muddling his thoughts again.

“I can pardon him,” Esben said quietly, staring at the ground.

When Artham looked up, Esben’s brow was furrowed in through and he had the frustrated, even miserable look of someone who has been working through a problem for a long time and just found out it was a lot more complicated than he had originally thought.

“We have a meeting with the Keeper and three other chiefs tomorrow to discuss everything. Most of the chiefs already went home, and Bonifer delayed the meeting as long as possible. Let’s not bring this up, okay? I…I’m the only one who can decide this and the last thing I need is Myndik Bunge’s opinion.”

“I won’t,” Artham wanted to add more, to say something or offer his brother his help, but the High King was the only one who could issue a pardon. Esben was already feeling the full weight of that on his shoulders, and Artham himself was having a hard time sorting through his pain-tangled thoughts. He didn’t need to add them to everything Esben was weighing into his decisions. Especially since he wasn’t sure how he felt about Aro. At the moment, the only thing he could think of was the black figure on the roof, Esben’s hiss of pain, everything he had felt seeing his little brother’s arm and hand smeared red and his own hurt from the arrow to his shoulder.

“I'll try to decide after the council meeting tomorrow. Maybe the day after.” Esben’s face was still concentrated in thought.

“I’m going to see if I can talk to Bonifer about this,” he said, starting towards the door. “And you should get some rest. Is your head hurting again? You look really tired.”

“I’m tired of resting,” Artham muttered, letting out the first thing that came to his mind.

Esben laughed a little, and Artham smiled to hear something somewhat happy from his brother. When Esben closed the door behind him, Artham closed his eyes. He fully intended to stay awake and wrestle with the hundreds of new thoughts the day had awoken, but as he slowly let himself relax, he fell fast asleep in the chair.