A favor.
When they arrived back at his apartment, he pointed to a chair for her to sit in and poured them both a cup of beer. She turned away when he handed her the cup.
“What? What’s wrong with this?”
“I don’t drink beer.” She replied flatly.
Aindreas shrugged, “Well, I tried to be hospitable.” He placed the cup on a small table, sat in a chair across from Trea and took a sip of his drink before addressing her. “Alright then, what’s this all about? What brings you back to the Court after all these years looking to cut my throat?”
“If I was looking to cut your throat I would have done it a long time ago. I certainly wouldn’t have waited all this time.”
“Ok, you don’t want to kill me, that’s a relief.”
“I never said I didn’t want to kill you. I really see no reason why I shouldn’t, but you won’t be very useful to me dead right now.”
Aindreas raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “Now, why would you want to kill me? I thought we were friends.”
Trea’s eyes grew wide, “Why? WHY? You’re kidding right? You abandoned me! What’s worse, you never even bothered to say goodbye. Just up and gone in the few hours I was doing my chores. All you left was a lousy note, and not once did you even attempt to contact me. Your friendship is a lie.”
This time Aindreas looked away. “I guess I deserve your anger then, don’t I. And I guess you deserve an explanation.” Trea opened her mouth to protest, but Aindreas held up his hand to stop her, “No. You do.” He sighed and then took in a deep breath.
“The day I left I was given two choices: I either pack my things and leave right then, or get court-martialed and watch you get sent to a brothel. Word about our relationship had reached the Lieutenant General, he sent an assistant with those two options. I was not to have any contact with you before I left, I took a risk even leaving you that note. You were considered a prisoner of war, you staying in my quarters was illegal. You should have been locked in a cell where they would have interrogated you and then prepared you to be sold as either a slave or a whore. I couldn’t let them do that to you, you had already been through so much. I figured leaving was best.”
“So you couldn’t send a letter or something? The Captain knew where I was.”
“They wouldn’t even let me contact him for over a month. By time I could, the regiment had been sent back out into the field and the Captain had been comatose for sometime. A wall had fallen on him. He died six months later without ever coming to.”
Trea gasped. She hadn’t known about that. During that time she had locked herself in her room above Marco’s pub, refusing everything except the simplest foods to survive. She had been so depressed that she shut out the world around her. Even when she finally came out her room she refused to discuss anything from her time in the Court or the Desert Region. Marco wouldn’t ask, she wouldn’t volunteer.
“I came back two years ago,” Aindreas continued, “I thought about finding you, but I didn’t know where to even start. All the Captain’s personal affects had been taken to a friend, but they wouldn’t tell me who.” He drew in a deep breath, “I figured you had moved on, so I thought it best that I move on too.”
Trea laced her fingers together, put her hands under her chin and closed her eyes. After a while, she spoke, “I came to get you to do me a favor.”
“And if I say no?”
“I wouldn’t suggest you do so.” This made Aindreas look at her curiously. “The King’s only daughter is about the age I was when we first came here to the Court. Being Captain of the Royal Guard, it is your duty to protect her. I doubt the His Majesty would be pleased to hear that his daughter’s close, personal guard has a taste for young girls.”
Aindreas laughed, “Blackmail?”
“I’d like to think of it as a high-pressure incentive to make up for wronging an old friend.”
“But I just told you, it couldn’t have been helped! I couldn’t contact you!”
Trea shrugged, “Explanations are nice, but they don’t heal hurt feelings. Just because I understand the situation doesn’t mean I forgive you.”
Aindreas straightened up, his face became hard and serious. “Well then, what do you need done?”
“Contact the guard in Entara, tell them to drop the warrant and bounty for my arrest.”
“The guard in Entara are not part of the Royal Guard.”
“I know, but they are your subordinates. If war breaks out and there are not enough soldiers in the Royal Guard, you take from the civilian guard. And even as a Captain you out rank all of them by simply having the Royal Guard insignia.”
Aindreas rubbed his face; she was right. He could send a note to them and the warrant and bounty would disappear into thin air. “Why are you wanted anyway?”
“They think I robbed a jewelry store. I was out there doing a job and happened to be nearby when it was robbed. They are trying to pin it on me because I am a foreigner.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
“Job? What job?”
“That’s for me to know. Are you going to do it or not?”
“What have you gotten yourself into Trea? Why are you so cold now? You used to have such warmth and brightness in you.”
“This is what happens when you’ve been abandoned, rejected, and orphaned three times over.”
This stung Aindreas. “Alright. I will send the official letter in the morning.”
“Thank you.” There was no sincerity in her words. They were flat and hung heavy with obligatory politeness. She got up to leave, and Aindreas grabbed her by the arm, she turned to swing and he caught that arm also.
“You’ve gotten faster.” He said, “But it’s better for me to walk you out. An intruder this time of night is not guaranteed safe passage.” He looked into her eyes for a moment, searching for the girl he had known. He so desperately wanted to kiss her, wanted to take her right then and there, but so much time had passed. He knew nothing about the woman who stood in front of him now. Even a kiss could complicate things further. He released her left arm and walked her through the Court and out the main gates. He watched her as the gates closed; not once did she look back towards him.
A friend.
Trea came to the Court of the Royal Guard and stopped at it’s outer wall. Cloud cover blocked the large, full moon, and the air smelled like rain. She would have to do this as quickly and quietly as possible. She knew the court like the back of her hand. It was where her life in Ralaugh started, and where she had found her first friend. It had been so long since she had been back. So long since she saw her friend. Her mind spun with memories and emotions.
It had been more than five years earlier when she first arrived at the Court of the Royal Guard. Back then there was a war between the Northern Kingdom of the Plains Region and the Third Empire of the Desert Region. The reasons for it starting were lost to her now, and she was sure they were just as lost to her then. She had only been a child when it started, people simply didn’t discuss such things with children. All she could remember from that day was being dug out from under a fallen wall by Northern Kingdom soldiers. The Third Empire’s armies had either been killed or abandoned the fight when they saw the slaughter that was to befall them if they continued their attack. The Northern Kingdom soldiers were digging through the rubble looking for something, what she didn’t know, but when they found her, legs broken and semiconscious, she remembered one of them yelling out for a medic before she passed out. She was about fourteen then.
Her savior had been a young corporal named Aindreas. He was almost twenty then. Young and handsome with golden hazel eyes and long brown hair. The Desert Region’s sun had tanned his skin, making his eyes seem like they could glow. He had taken her back to the base camp’s medical center. When she had finally come to, Trea couldn’t remember who she was or where her parents were. The Captain commanded Aindreas that she be taken to the small tent that housed several other people from the same, and nearby, villages to find out who her parents were and if they were still alive. As soon as he entered the tents, people ran from her, recoiling in horror. One woman screamed, another hissed to all the others, in their native tongue, “She is a demon. They are trying to curse us!” Trea clung to the Corporal terrified, not entirely sure why people were reacting they way they were, but knowing it was not good. It would not be the last time she had felt like an outcast and a freak. The Corporal, quickly assessing that the girl may well be in danger if they stayed any longer, quickly returned her to the medical center.
Later that night, an elder approached Aindreas. He apologized for the people’s behavior earlier and explained that the girl was unique amongst their people. They called people like her At’Treans, and were gifted with amazing abilities, but many people saw them as children of the Unholy and felt they carried curses that could destroy entire nations if unleashed. At’Trean, he explained, meant “soulless”, referring to their colorless eyes. It was believed the clearer the eye the more powerful the At’Trean. The elder remarked that the girl had to have been protected by her parents for many years, hidden away in rooms and cellars, since many At’Treans did not live to see adolescence. Most were killed before they even reached the age of two; the people believed once they could talk they would be able to unleash whatever curse they carried inside themselves. As he departed, the elder warned the Corporal to keep the girl away from the refugee tents. For her own safety.
By then, though, it was too late. Word spread of the At’Trean amongst the refugees and many confronted the Captain, insisting that he hand her over to be “dealt with properly”. Several times they had attempted to break into her room in the medical center and kill her, only to be stopped by Aindreas everytime.
“SHE HAS SEDUCED HIM!” One woman screamed as she was dragged away from the entrance of the tent that housed the medic, “THE UNHOLY WENCH HAS DARKENED THE SOUL OF YOUR SOLDIER! HE IS AN ENEMY TO ALL MANKIND NOW! HE MUST DIE ALSO! THE DEMON WHORE AND HER CONSORT MUST DIE!“
As the violence escalated, against the girl and against himself, Aindreas sought the councel of his Captain.
“You saved her. You brought her here. You presented to her people only to be rejected. It would seem the Gods have put her fate into your hands. You decide what to do with her. You can protect her or hand her over.”
“But…What do the Gods want me to do?”
“Do I look as though I know the will of the Gods boy?” The Captain chuckled, “If I knew the will of the Gods do you think I’d be here fighting for King and country? Hell no. I’d be safe and secure in a temple as a cleric somewhere.” The Captain shook his head, “No son, this is a decision you must make.”
Several hours later Aindreas requested, and was given, an extra tent near his own to move the girl to.
By this time the only one of the refugees who would still speak with Aindreas was the elder. The elder was a merchant and caravan driver who was said to have lived over a century and outlived over twenty wives. He claimed to have lived in every known region in the world, studying under great scholars and clerics, selling his wares, and learning different languages. Aindreas and the elder spent many hours talking, usually about the girl. The elder taught him several words in the girl’s native language and encouraged the Corporal to teach her the language of the Plains Region.
“You’ll have to take her with you when you leave. She won’t survive here if you leave her behind, not now that the people know she exists.”
“She doesn’t even know her own name. How is she to survive in the Plains?”
“It is up to you to give her a name. You are the only protector she has. She’ll be depending on you to take care of her until she can stand on her own.”
“What sort of name is appropriate for a girl like her?”
The elder shook his head. “Most never get beyond being called At’Trean. The fact that she survived this long without being discovered is nothing short of a miracle.”
“Have you been able to find anything out about her parents?”
He shook his head again. “No. Even if they are here at camp, they will not claim her. Their lives could well be at stake also for hiding her. The people could go so far as to blame this entire war on them not killing their child.” He sighed, “Are we really so barbaric that we destroy what we don’t understand?”
Aindreas looked the old man in his eyes, “I believe we all are.”
A year later Aindreas had named the girl Trean, “soul”, a show of defiance towards the people who rejected her, and taught her Plains language. They had become close friends, she often tended wounds he suffered in battle. They had even been intimate at times, never quite going as far as sex, but often coming close before Aindreas would stop himself. They had also returned to Ralaugh, Aindreas’ regiment was no longer needed in the area though the war continued. He had asked the Captain to bring Trean with them, as her life would be in danger if they didn’t. The Captain warned him that Trean would have to considered a prisoner of war and marked as the property and slave of the regiment. This opened her to being taken by the King himself, sold to a brothel or farm as a slave. He discussed it with Trean that night.
“Which is worse,” she asked, “to live as a slave for a time, or die by the hands of those who hate you without reason? It is true that in the Plains that a slave can buy her freedom, even a whore in a brothel, right? Even if I must bear chains, it would be better than to be left to the mercy of these hateful people.”
She stayed in the Court of the Royal Guard as a servant for three years. Her relationship with Aindreas had deepened, finally leading to her giving herself fully to him several times over the years. She had loved him, and he professed his love to her time and time again. One day it all came crumbling down around her. After finishing her daily duties, she returned to his apartment only to find his things gone and a note on the dresser simply saying, “I am sorry. You are free now.” She waited for him to return for over ten days, never moving from his bed. Finally, it took the Captain to carry her out of the apartment, she had been so weakened from not eating that it was impossible for her to move on her own. It was through the Captain that she met Marco.
Marco…
Over a year had passed and just his name cut like a knife.
Trea steeled herself, took a deep breath and jumped to the top of the wall. From there she could see the entire court. She went through her path in her head for the umpteenth time. She didn’t really need to, she knew the Court like it was her own bedroom. She could walk through there blindfolded and not trip on a single stone. This time, however, she was taking the rooftops. Her soft, suede-bottomed boots barely made a sound as she leapt from apartment to apartment with amazing speed. She finally came to the apartment before the Captains quarters. Through the window she could see Aindreas sitting as his desk, writing. He almost looked exactly the way he did the last time she had seen him nearly six years ago, only hours before he disappeared from her life. She watched him for sometime before he got up and left his quarters for a walk. She pulled the knife from her boot and made her move.
Landing softly behind where he had been standing, she quickly reached around and put the knife to his throat. “That little officer’s insignia on your breast making you slow, Aindreas?” She whispered in his ear
Aindreas smiled, “Hardly, you just make enough noise to wake the dead. I heard someone following me and decided to see who could possibly want to meet me alone in the dark.” He inhaled, “You still smell like spice Trean, not as much as you used to, but being this close to you again I can smell it.”
This made Trea’s mind race between slicing his throat open and embracing him. “Do not call me Trean. I don’t go by that name anymore. I haven’t for years now.”
“Oh? And what name should I call you?”
“Trea.”
“Trea? Alright. Now would you be so kind as to take that knife from my throat so I can tell my subordinates not to kill you.”
Trea looked around, the cloud cover she had relied on earlier made it hard to see if anyone was near.
Aindreas chuckled, “No, you can’t see them. We’ve been training covert soldiers here for the past year. If you did see them, they’d be the last thing you saw before you died.” He made a motion with his head and Trea felt the edge of a blade sting the side of her face. She turned to look and behind her, stuck deep into the wall, was a thin, handle-less throwing blade. A warm, thin line of blood ran down her cheek.
“Shit,” she thought, “he wasn’t lying. I can feel them near by. I didn’t notice before. Shit.” She moved the knife from Aindreas’ neck. He grinned.
“Good. Now let’s return to my quarters and discuss whatever brought you back here like civilized adults.” He grabbed her by the arm the way a father grabs a misbehaving child. Trea was wrong. He had changed. He had become harder. His eyes seemed so much colder, even when he looked at her they didn’t soften they way they used to. Even the aura about him changed. He was much more intimidating. She wanted to pull away from him but knew such a move could lead to the next knife hitting her dead on. She wasn’t going to fool herself, she knew they missed on purpose the first time.
