Tiva Boon: Royal Guardian (11 page)

BOOK: Tiva Boon: Royal Guardian
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“Come, dearest one,” he bellowed. Tiva entered and stood near the door. “I have contacted home and told them we are well. Mother sends her love.”

Tiva smiled.

“You did well for your first day. I assume you will meet this Solun tomorrow?”

“Yes, Father. He wants to guide me through the town. As he was the only person I made full contact with, I figure he is a just choice for the time being.”

“Agreed. However you must still attempt to gather more information.”

“I am aware. I was not expecting to make a ‘friend’ so quickly. It should prove interesting what happens next. His speech of sacrifice stirs in me a feeling he may be involved. Not only that, but he seemed comfortable and well known on the playing field Dal mentioned.”

“Your skills are invaluable here, Tiva. Continue as you have, and I am certain you will succeed.”

“I will do my best.” She turned and held his gaze. “Father, I must ask…why did you and the others seem so careless in the pub? Did you notice all around you?”

“Yes, of course. I was slightly inebriated, but my senses were still sharp. I knew my surroundings before partaking in the ale, and kept to my limits. You observed well, as did I, and the others.”

“I figured as much, but I didn’t care for the stranger’s looks when I fell from the chair. They had more than their eyes upon me.”

“Well…” he said, “I cannot say what they were all feeling, but it was quite a maneuver and recovery. I was rightly impressed, and I assume the others were as well.”

“I only stopped myself from being harmed. I did nothing special.” She sighed and leaned against the wall. “Why do others praise or admire that which does not merit such approbation?”

“Because whether or not you feel it in your heart, dearest one, you are an impressive young lady. You must understand, Tiva, not many people of this world want to follow in the footsteps of the king’s protectors. While they admire the work we do, most do not possess the strength or courage to do so. Since you could crawl, you have shown great interest in being a protector. My parents encouraged me to follow my heart, and your mother and I have done the same for you and your siblings. Your training and upbringing has prepared you for greatness, my daughter, but your courage, strength, and humility shall bring you renown.”

 

After speaking at length with her father, Tiva returned to her room for another night of restlessness. The day was long and tiring, yet she shifted uncomfortably trying to find sleep. Luckily, her body, devoid of energy, gave in, and midway through the night, she fell into a deep quiet slumber.

*

The soft, wintry wind blew through her room. She shivered and pulled her coverings over her head. Nestling into the blankets, she yawned and curled into a ball. Foreign as the house may be, her sleep was soothing and solid. The new light of the morning crept through the curtained windows, and she realized, the suns had risen.

She leaped up, throwing the coverings to the side and dressed quickly before rushing out of her room. Chatter and clanking of dishes, and the aroma of morning meal permeated through the hall. She fastened the last toggle on her tunic and entered the kitchen area.

“Spirited greetings.” Dal pulled out a chair and patted the seat.

“And to you, Dal,” she said, taking the seat. Defor and Razzil acknowledged her, but kept eating. “I am sorry for being tardy. I slept well, but longer than I wished.”

“No, you’re fine, no need to head to the square so early today. We don’t wish this to look routine.”

“True, I had not thought of that.” Tiva raised a brow. It was logical. If she showed up every day at the same time, it would be rather obvious. “Am I to give my report?”

“Yes.” Kevler’s voice echoed behind her.

She turned and smiled.

“Spirited greetings,” everyone said, and Dal offered him a plate.

Graciously he accepted and sat beside his daughter. “First, we enjoy the meal.”

 

Once the group finished eating, they
retired to the control center. There, Tiva recounted every step of her day. As she spoke of all that happened, she found the excitement building in her. She would delve deeper under the mysterious shadow. She had little more than an odd feeling Solun was part of the youth faction; she just needed to find the correct way to force him to show his hand. His interest in her was more than personal, that much she was certain. Wrapping up her report, she offered her opinion about Solun and the others agreed with her.

“Perhaps he is a good choice, but still keep open your options, one never knows when the right time will present itself,” Dal said.

“Agreed,” Kevler said.

“I wish to spend part of the evening in the square, if acceptable.”

“Quite acceptable. You may uncover more information during the night,” Dal said. “I shall take you in shortly…”

“I was thinking, the distance is not long, can I walk?”

“The mission is yours alone, Tiva, you may do as you see fit,” Kevler said.

“Rightly so,” Razzil concurred.

“Then I will make haste to the town.”

“Be certain to carry your PCD, should you need to contact any of us,” Defor said. “One of us shall be here if you call.”

 

Tiva returned to her room. She gathered her cloak and PCD, left her sword, and secured the dagger in her boot.
Slipping unnoticed past the others, she proceeded to the alley and began the march to the square.

It neared midday when she arrived at the town entrance. The promenade was crowded with people. Not wishing to careen through, she circled around the gate, slipped into a side alley, and wandered toward the playing field. A small group of trees, nestled peacefully between two large glass-stained buildings, caught her attention. Behind them, she spotted a path. No one was near, so she decided to walk through.

She edged her way to the last of the foliage when a guttural roar came from her left. Tiva leaped to the side and looked toward the ominous sound. Before her stood a wild beast, a kind she had never seen before. Its snout, covered in blood, twitched as it roared again. The black fur that covered its lean muscled body stood on end. The beast’s piercing yellow eyes, filled with pain and malice, locked onto her.

She slowly stepped back, began to kneel, and reached for her boot. The beast bucked and jumped toward her. Stumbling back, she had no time to get her weapon; instead, she pushed off the ground and sprinted away from the creature.

The beast gave chase.

 

Chapter Nine

Without turning, she ran through the last of the trees and found the edge of the playing field. The roar and pant of the wild animal behind her grew louder. She pushed her legs harder and ran faster. Two groups of people were on the field, young girls and boys to the left and older boys to the right. She wished not to bring the beast toward either, and sharply turned hoping it would follow. The beast continued its pursuit.

A screech filled the air.

“Look. A char-beast!” one of the young girls yelled.

“It’s after that girl,” another said.

“She’s leading it away, someone should help her.”

“Tiva!” Solun’s voice echoed through the field.

She kept her fast pace
, but glanced over her shoulder. Solun ran toward her pointing to a small pond at the very edge of the field. She cut sharply to the right, altering her direction again, and made way to the pond. “If you can leap it, do so, char-beasts cannot swim.”

The animal bridged the distance and gained on her quickly. She forced her legs to move faster. The body of water was long in length
, but not width. She fixed her gaze upon it searching for the narrowest point. With an abounding leap, she soared over the pond. Mid-air, she flipped to gain height and as she descended, she was certain she made it. The soft wet earth began to sink when she landed. The char-beast attempted to follow her, but fell in the middle of the pond. It wailed and waded through the water trying to stay alive. Tiva pulled herself to safety and rested on the bank as Solun approached. He seized a knife from his belt and kneeled near the pond.

“Wait!” Tiva said and stood. “Is there some place we can take it?”

“It is a wild animal, it will harm whomever, or whatever crosses its path.”

“Only at the expense of its own survival,” she said, watching the beast clinging to life. “We should not condemn it because it is following its natural instincts.”

“There are none here who can contain it, lovely Tiva. I am sorry, this must be,” Solun said solemnly, as he reached over, and stabbed the char-beast in the chest. It howled and squirmed then went limp on his knife. She frowned and cleaned the grass from her clothing. Solun left the char-beast bobbing in the pond and circled around toward her. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I am unscathed.”

“Good.” He secured the knife back on his belt and looked back. “That is the third wild animal I have seen in this field, though uncommon, on occasion they make their way from the mountains and get lost among the towns. You are quite a sprinter, had you been but a tad slower, you might have been its dinner.”

“Then I am grateful you offered me your help.”

“You kept the animal at bay and away from the children, we are grateful to you.” He bowed slightly and grinned. “You are fast and nimble, Tiva.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Please, come meet my friends. They are sure to enjoy meeting you.”

 

The group of children hugged and thanked her then dispersed into the square. Solun’s friends seemed enamored with her as they chatted. Two of the older boys she remembered from the field before. Unil was a short, round-faced, and flamed-haired boy, and Bumo, tall, lanky, and flaxen haired, hung on every word she said. She made no indication of the secret messages their eyes spoke to one another and continued to act oblivious to the danger of the char-beast, claiming it all as a matter of luck and good timing. As the excitement wore off, Solun motioned the others to leave with a quick jerk of his head, and Tiva looked at him curiously.

“Did I not promise to be your guide today, Tiva?”

“That you did, Solun,” she replied. “But why can your friends not join us?”

“Because I wish to give you my full attention.” He grinned wickedly. “Where do you desire to go, fair maiden?”

Tiva laughed and sheepishly tugged at her braid as if thinking. “I am thirsty after that incident, may we rest and drink?”

“Rest and drink, we shall.”

Solun brought her to a small shop hidden within one of the narrow alleys. Inside, were a few scattered people of all ages enjoying a meal or ale. The ambiance in the shop was lighthearted and entertaining. They found a table near the door, and placed their order with an older lady. Solun asked for ale, while Tiva ordered juice. She returned with two glasses, and Solun happily drank.

“Do you not wish to taste the brew?”

“I am not quite old enough, yet.”

“You jest! Surely you are beyond seventeen cycles.”

“No, a few moons shy, actually. My Remembrance is the first day of the Warming.”

“You carry yourself well, are you from a noble family?”

She had no immediate response for that. Unprepared for the question, she sipped her juice and smiled, gaining a moment to think. Royal Guardians were the noblest protectors, yet many considered the legionnaires, Province Keepers, and the king’s entire court noble in the same regard. She could pick any of them and hold a conversation, however the further his thoughts from the truth, the more secure she would feel.

“Hardly,” she giggled. “My parents are hover makers.”

“Yet you are highly educated.”

“I was home instructed.” A partial truth in her mind.

“I am impressed with you more and more, Tiva.”

“Your flattery has not gone unnoticed, Solun,” she said.

“You are sharp of eye and tongue! It would be interesting to see your full potential.”

“What do you mean?” she said carefully and sipped her drink again.

“Oh, nothing, nothing, my mind is getting away from me.”

“Perhaps you should guard it more thoughtfully.”

Solun erupted with laughter and Tiva joined. She raised her glass and he did the same. They clashed together their cups. Tiva grinned. They enjoyed general conversations about various topics as they finished their drinks. When Solun asked her where she wished to go, she asked him to choose and keep it secret until they arrived. He agreed and offered his arm as they left the shop. Obviously enjoying himself, Solun told tales of the Hentor province and large towns scattered through the land. He offered insight into some of the problems faced by the previous Province Keepers. The information was not in Dal’s journal, so Tiva hung on his every word. Solun spoke with passion and knowledge beyond his age. Whether an elder told the tales to him or he learned of them from books, the cadence of his speech was intoxicating.

He told her of the siege of Hentor while Himloc’s predecessor, Grettil was in power. “The neighboring province of Ullibro tried to extend their land borders. Their Province Keeper and his men attacked and slaughtered thousands of our people. Grettil, considered a great strategist, set a trap for the army on the outskirts of Buali. When the Ullibros arrived, Grettil’s army emerged from every tree, rock, and patch of dirt, ultimately defeating their aggressors, and securing their lands. Quite glorious.”

Always enjoying a story of old, Tiva inadvertently gave Solun all her attention, which tore her from the mission. She struggled to control and balance everything, and the more they ventured into the populace of the town, the harder she strained to absorb everything. Tiva continued listening, but forcefully split her attention, keeping alert to the goings on around her.

Weary after a long stretch of walking, listening to Solun, and trying to keep her eyes and senses on all else near, Tiva leaned against the wall of a garment shop and paused.

“Tiva?” Solun stopped short as her arm slipped from his.

“Perhaps we did not rest long enough? I still feel drawn from the chase,” she said and immediately forced herself to focus. She reached for his arm and smiled slightly. “Another drink would be nice.”

“Forgive me, Tiva, my tongue has run off with the wind. I have claimed your ear and attention through evening meal!” he confessed apologetically. “One cannot expect such a lovely lady to bear the tired tales of a long ago past and not stop for comfort.”

“Your recount of history has struck a chord with me, Solun. I do not think I could ever tire of hearing you speak.” As the words came out of her mouth, in the back of her mind they rang true. Dal’s words filled her thoughts as well,
they believe in what it is they fight for.
Exactly what that was, she needed to find out for herself.

“Now you flatter me.” He grinned, the markings on his forehead lightening to a soft purplish-pink. “Accompany me, and we will feast on the finest food Hentor has to offer.”

The invitation was enthralling on many levels, but there was still so much to see in the town. Should she risk spending more time with Solun and miss the chance to meet others? If he continued his tales, would she learn more but become charmed with his natural qualities? Either choice held answers beyond her sight.

“I would be most honored,” she said.

“I will take you to the finest establishment in Buali.” Solun smiled and led her through the middle of town to the first alley near the gate. On the corner was a bright golden brick and cerulean stained glass shop. The doorframe, made of silver wood, crowned by a sign: ‘Etham’s Eatery’, swung open when they approached. They entered to a boisterous gathering of people. Several legionnaires, not on assignment with her mission, and province guardsmen, drank and ate together in the middle of the room. Townspeople and families filled out the remaining tables.

Solun found them an empty table and called for a server. He ordered for them both, and Tiva used the extra time to survey the room. Keeping her movements guarded, she allowed her senses to open fully. Nothing struck her as odd, yet, she remained as observant as she could while in Solun’s company.

Again, he spun tales of the province as they enjoyed their food. Then slowly they melded with a story from his past. His father, a guardsman for Himloc was involved in the fight with the king’s agents, the same fight that brought her father back to this province after Ispek’s death.

Solun spoke of his father’s near capture and exile into the mountains of Hentor with perfect recollection. “The Royal Guardians came to Hentor ready to defeat Himloc’s army. They succeeded, but my father was one of the lucky. He was deceived by Himloc, who was betrayed himself, and though Himloc is paying the price for his defiance on the Lost Island, my father walks the peaks of the mountains a free
, but wanted man.” Solun gritted his teeth and balled his hand into a fist. Tiva reacted immediately, though unexpectedly, and rested her hand on his. He gazed into her eyes and smiled. “He is safe. He is not a shell of his former self, rotting in captivity, nor has he gone to the Eternal Lands, so I am grateful.”

“Who deceived your father and the Province Keeper?”

Solun shrugged. “We do not know. It is a riddle yet to be unraveled, though I will see it done, eventually.”

Tiva bowed her head slight and drank from her glass. The more he spoke, the more it convinced her he held the knowledge she sought. Solun would be her focal point. She could still be aware of all around her, but everything she felt pushed her to him. Solun finished his stories with the bequeathing of his father’s knife. Understanding the importance of heirlooms, she became captivated as he remembered the moment in perfect clarity. As he recounted his feelings, Tiva realized they were very much alike in certain ways. The sudden thought made her shiver. If
indeed they were alike, what madness could drive him to an underground faction who defied the king?

The troublesome thoughts distracted her, but she recovered before Solun noticed. When he spoke no more, he finished his ale and smiled at her.

“Thank you for the company, meal, and fine stories. I should like to meet again with you, sometime.” She smiled back.

“My business still carries me into town every day, and I am free for mid-day meal…” Solun began.

“Only if you allow me to take you somewhere.”

“I will be at your mercy, wherever you wish to go, I shall follow,” he said and helped her from the chair. “May I escort you to your hover?”

“I came by foot, but if you wish to see me to the gates…”

“Say no more, it is done.”

 

As they walked, Solun asked Tiva of her province. She recalled a few well-known stories of Whettland that she learned from legionnaires. Nothing spectacular, but far from bland, she offered him a nice blend of struggle and prosperity of the province. She weaved in one story of her childhood, a gathering of her father’s Remembrance. She offered no names, only fun accounts of games and celebration. Solun seemed satisfied when they reached the gate, and gently kissed her wrist before she departed.

The town glowed behind her as she walked the road away. She gathered enough information to fill another report. Sifting through the different stories Solun told, and everything else she observed, she became lost in thought.

Something struck her from behind and knocked her over.

Pushing up to her knees, she spun around to see two large men towering above. She lowered her hand slowly and seamlessly pulled up the cuff of her pants.

“Look at this little lady walking among our road alone…” one said.

“On such a moonless night,” the other said.

“Speak of what you want!” She raised her voice.

BOOK: Tiva Boon: Royal Guardian
13.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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