Chapter 7

"My father is dead..."

It was autumn then. The leaves were bright red and yellow, still hanging from the trees, desperate to leave the higher ground to mould in the warm soft earth. I always loved the autumn back then, but now I look upon autumn with sorrow. The dying part of the seasons' cycle. So much comparing to a human's life. The years before death.

I had no idea what to say, no idea what might comfort him. I had never experienced death in that way. People died in the village I lived in, but never someone I cared for. I knew that Alexander loved his father — he always tried to live to the old king's principles.

I started crying, because I knew what this meant. This meant that Alexander would become king. And a king has no time for a peasant girl, especially not someone who all the time throws him into the dirt and drags his hair.

I threw myself at him — I wanted to hug him, but I did not know how to give him one. I punched him, pinched him, and kicked him. I screamed my lungs out. The only one I loved was going to leave me.

Somewhere in my outrage I slumped down to the ground and I wrapped my arms around my knees.

"I'm sorry..." he said. Then he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.

The tears stopped when I saw him mount his horse — a horse instead of the usual pony he had always ridden, he truly was an adult now. He did not look back at me. And the red and yellow leaves of the trees fell softly to the earth.

When Wizer Joanja heard what had happened in the fortress she gave me a hard lecture. I wished I could not care about it, but I did. I felt great remorse. No matter how I did everything seemed to go wrong. I had killed a second time, this one I had killed trying to protect Vicdaen.

And I could not tell anyone about it. Vicdaen forbade me to tell anyone that I had killed him. As soon as I had killed the Wiliji Vicdaen had slashed his sword into his heart, disguising the 'unknown' cause of death. He also forbade me to speak of the assassin's real target. Everyone assumed that he was after Alexander, but he had not been. He had been ordered to murder Vicdaen. The more I thought about it, the more confused I got. Why did he want to kill Vicdaen?

Of course, Vicdaen could be called a traitor. He was half-blood Wiliji and was fighting for the humans. That could look like treason in the eyes of the Wilijies. But why care about it? He was only one person. There had to be a greater reason.

There was another thing that got me puzzled. The Wiliji had called me 'Deathbringer'. How could he possibly know that I was called Deathbringer? He also knew that I would kill him when he had finished Vicdaen. It disturbed me a lot that perhaps the Wilijies knew about me. And how? Perhaps it would have helped me if I knew more about the Deathbringer business myself.

Almost the whole army had to stay outside of the fortress. There was barely room for the Royal Guard, and they consisted of only 40 soldiers, though all mounted. And then there were Alexander and I guessed Vicdaen, and his supreme staff.

I did not like the arrangements, but I was afraid to say anything. Bea, on the other hand, felt free to say whatever she wanted about it.

"They leave us out here, while they can feel safe inside. What kind of men act that way? I do not know how to fight. If we are attacked, who is going to protect us? I do not like this a bit."

And then she went inside the fortress, obviously to complain. I wondered who would listen to her. Well, probably not one, except Vicdaen — if she could find him.

I had not seen Vicdaen since Alexander had claimed the fortress. I felt a nagging feeling in the back of my head, which made my stomach grumble from time to time. I did not recognise it; this feeling was brand new to me. It made me quite uneasy. I thought about speaking of it with Bea, or even Goovar, but I felt embarrassed. What if they knew what it was, and what if it was what I feared it was? It would make me feel more uneasy than before.

Goovar had tried to make me sleep in her tent. It flustered me, and I had to struggle to get free of her hold on me when she had asked and I declined. Whatever she was wanting from me I was not willing to give. And she tried to touch me whenever she could, which I could barely stand. And whenever she was not trying to flirt with me she made me follow her around like a little pet dog — which she concealed by saying that she wanted me under observation and training. Oh, I loathed her.

A few days after the event in the fortress a soldier from the Royal Guard, a rather handsome guy with dimples in his cheeks and slick hair like it was wetted, came to the Moonsisters and asked for me. First he asked a girl who was my senior by three years, one of those who despised me the most, and got no answer at all. Probably he was told that there was no Amram Lothansdaughtir here in the Moonsisters, that when he asked me for me, I could not stop laughing. I was sure I hurt his feelings.

"I'm Amram", I answered after I had laughed. "I'm sorry I laughed, I did not know there were any who did not know who I am. I have quite a reputation to live up to, you know."

"To live up to..." he mumbled. "I am here to bring you to His Majesty, the king."

I must have looked like I had just wakened up. "Why so?"

"Come on, come with me."

"Wait, I cannot go to him looking like this!" I was sweaty, dirty, and I had on my old dress — which was more of a patch job than a dress.

"You look fine." Liar he was, he had hardly looked at me.

"Tell him I will be there in an hour." I had to go to the spring I had found two days ago. After the lack of water in the dry plains, I had found it more than a joy to be able to bathe again.

"It's the king. You can hardly tell him to wait for you!" he objected.

"Believe me, if he really wants to see me, he will wait more than an hour." I was already running into my tent to gather my pants, shirt and hairbrush.

Half a mile from the fortress laid a lake, possibly an old dam used for some watering system for the fields that used to be here. It was completely cold, in opposite to the warm and humid air, and totally black to look into. You could see a perfect reflection of yourself in it. The day I had found it I looked into it and saw me look older than I was. But this time, although muddy and brown, I looked younger, and especially happy.

I undressed quickly, not bothering to look around as I did when I first came here, throwing my clothes all around me. I did not search for any intruders, but I gathered that since there was nobody there now, and I had never seen any soldiers with wet hair in the camp, nobody except me knew about the dam. I was wrong.

I threw myself into the water and took a few strokes into the darkness of the pond. It was cold, but if it had been warm water I think I would rather have been dirty. In this warmth you could give almost anything to alleviate the heat. I dived to the bottom, it was not very deep, and when I came up I heard a whistle.

"So I see that this pond has taken you with its beauty as well, Amram." I recognised that voice. I was happy that it was him and not somebody else, but still, I was naked and he was most certainly not.

"Hello, Vicdaen."

I turned around to look at him. He had taken off his hood, revealing the hair that I knew was black as a raven, and in real it was as black. It hung down his shoulder, almost to his waist. He was slowly taking off his shirt, unbuttoning it in small languid motions. "I thought I was the only one who knew about this place. It never occurred to me that someone else would find it." He finished unbuttoning his shirt and let it slide off his shoulders to the ground. Was he going to jump into the water? Naked? With me in it? I had to stop him.