Young Writers Society

Chapter Fifteen: Not a Traitor

With a tired smile, Sae explains. “I thought you might not recognize me. I’m Sae Noridsemi, of Samei-Kozca.”

The Hralhym stiffens, her mismatched eyes widen, but she says nothing. Instead, she walks up to Attaraya and I. With a rough jerk, she pulls our hoods away from our faces.

After a moment of scrutiny, she walks slowly back to the place where she previously stood, silent. But her eyes have changed. Instead of the quiet curiosity from before, she now looks at all of us, especially Attaraya and I, with icy contempt hidden behind a carefully calm face.

I’m not quite sure what’s going on, but I can figure out that the Hralhym must remember Sae as her traitor, and from the look of it, she’s pretty pissed that she’s dragged at least two of the enemy into the royal city with her. So much for making amends.

“H-hralhym,” Iarin puts forward bravely, then, when the Hralhym doesn’t say anything, she launches into a rapid stream of Sareilian, which Sae translates for me in an undertone. The Hralhym listens with indifference, then shock, then anger as Iarin rushes through her explanation.

“M-my companions and I have come from Naroth to bring you unfortunate news. Y-your trusted advisor, the head of the Council of Elders, K-kagami, correct? We have r-reason to believe he is a traitor and has been providing help to the Hanorans. We urge you to consider this, as his a-advice is no doubt contributing to his own goals, whatever those may–“

”Be silent.” The Hralhym interrupts, addressing us in Hanoran. “Stand up,” she tells Iarin. “Straighten your back. Look me in the eye.”

Iarin obeys automatically, her pale grey eyes reaching up to meet the Hralhym’s. I notice for the first time that she’s trembling, trembling as she did before the Council of Chiren when we first met her.

“You’ve an accent. You’re from Ealym, aren’t you?”

Iarin nods wordlessly.

“What’s your name?”

She opens her mouth to answer, then closes it again, suddenly. After a pause, she tries to speak again. “I-i-i-ia.... Iari... Iarin. Iarin El... Ellith. Iarin Ellith.” she says at last, loudly and firmly. “M-my name is Iarin Ellith.”

“I heard you the first time.” The Hralhym says dryly. “Well, you certainly have a lot of nerve, to come back here after all that’s happened. But knowing who you are, you must understand why I don’t think I can trust you.”

Obviously I’m missing an important point here.

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree… As for the other two of you...” she falls silent, as if Attaraya and I fall too far beneath her notice for her to tell us what we evidentially are. I guess it’s better than being referred to as “it” and being followed around by a freaking armed guard all day, but still. Why do I have to be lumped in with Attaraya?

“Which brings me to my point. Sae Noridsemi, why did you escort two Hanorans and Iarin Ellith into Sareil?

“I...I...” Sae stammers.

“Was this a demand of Naroth’s interrogators, or do you betray us of your own free will?”

“I’m not... I didn’t...” she reverts back to Sareilian. “Serhara eta sermiel! Kúrela! Des kúrela! Serdes eta haramin!”

The Hralhym acts like she doesn’t hear. “But I’m so glad you’re back,” She continues, placing a gentle hand on the side of Sae’s neck, ruffling her pale hair slightly. “I’m very grateful...” Without moving her hand, he traces her thumb in a graceful arc across the girl’s throat. Then, with impossible ease, the Hralhym lift her from the ground. “Because you will not be leaving. For those who have been killed because of your betrayal, it is only fair that you pay an equal price.”

“Sae!” I shout.

The Hralhym’s eyes remain fixed on her. “I am sorry. This is unfortunate, but betrayal of my people—those I’ve been entrusted with, those I’ve fought for all this time—simply cannot be allowed.”

Sae struggles for about half a second before giving up, letting her scrabbling hand fall to her side.

‘H-hey!” Attaraya shouts, “listen, you stupid old lady, let her go—”

Of course, that was a dumb idea, since Attaraya’s Hanoran and all. The fact that she’s protecting Sae, a Sareilian, will only further damn Sae as a supposed traitor.

“Please!” I shout. “Hralhym, please, listen to me! I—”

The Hralhym turns to face me, not letting go of Sae. My heart thuds, I fall silent, my words failing me. I take a deep breath and go on. “Hralhym, I realize that you and your people have suffered, I really do understand that. Honestly. I saw Samei-Kozca, and the people captured by Hanora, trapped at a base, and forced to assist their enemies. I’ve seen all the devastation and the struggle. But Sae... she never spoke a word to betray you. No matter what the Hanorans did to her, she never told them anything. She’s not a traitor, she’s a hero for you, or should be. I know you’ve suffered, but Sae isn’t the cause.”

The Hralhym glares at me. “What would a Hanoradra know about our plight?”

“I’m not a Hanoran.” I snap at her. Then I take a deep breath again, hardly believing what I’m about to say, hardly daring to say it. “But you are, aren’t you?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I can tell that was the wrong answer. It was just a guess, based on her appearance, but it looks like it hit home a bit harder than I thought it would.

The Hralhym stiffens. The staff falls to the floor with a clatter. She drops Sae, who tumbles to the floor, choking and coughing, to lay there, limp, shivering and silent.

Footsteps echoing on the stones, the Hralhym turns to face me.

“What did you,” she says very softly, “just say to me?”

She advances slowly toward me, and instinctively, I take a few steps back.

“What did you just say to me?” she repeats. “What. Did. You. Say?”

Time to leave.

I bolt for the door. Attaraya makes to follow me, Iarin hovers uncertainly between Sae and I, but before any of us can do anything, the Hralhym shouts a short, sharp word.

I’m going to guess that it’s “guards,” because about two seconds later, Attaraya backpedals wildly as three or four of them come hurrying to the throne room from each of the hallways breaking off of it.

I dart to the side, trying to avoid them, only to be hit, hard, by the Hralhym’s staff, and sent careening into the wall. Struggling to stand, I can see that my attacker is the Hralhym herself, who, evidentially, is no pushover. If a certain Council had taken a leaf out of her book, I could have been spared the trouble of killing a nedra....

I get to my feet, but the Hralhym lunges forward, using the staff to pin me firmly against the wall, then turns to the rest of the throne room, calling out something to the guards. They jump at her orders, not pausing to argue, not even pausing to speak, and before I can blink they’ve caught Iarin and Attaraya, and lifted an unresisting Sae off the floor. The Hralhym releases me momentarily, but I don’t even have the time to draw my sword before she gives me a rough shove toward the guards, who promptly disarm me. I struggle, but I can’t get free.

Hralhym step close and frowns, seeing a small purple bruise on Iarin’s cheek.

She says something to them in Sareilian, and one of them answers her. By his gestures, it seems like he’s saying sorry for something, but the Hralhym waves the apology away. She shuffles across the room and slumps into the carved wooden throne, massaging her temples as though her head pains her. Despite everything, she looks so sad and tired and helpless that I feel just a tiny bit sorry for her. “Please. Just take them away. I can’t deal with this right now.”

* * * * *

The guards put the four of us into a large, dark, and windowless cell, a few floors beneath the throne room. As soon as the door is shut firmly behind us so that the only light is a square patch, cut from the door and interspersed by bars, leaving lonely rectangles of torchlight on the floor, Attaraya turns to glare at me.

“Nice one, Emma.” she says.

“What?” I ask, “It sounded brave at the time… How was I supposed to know she’d get all pissed off? For all I know, it was the truth.” I pose my question to Sae, who sits alone in the corner of the cell furthest from the door, as though begging not to be noticed. “She is Hanoran, isn’t she?”

For a moment, I think Sae’s not going to respond. Then, she says, “Half.”

“Half?” I echo, “As in...?”

“As in, the Hralhym was conceived during the Third Raid, and her mother didn’t have much choice in the matter.” Sae says, her voice hollow and bitter.

“Oh.” I say, softly. Then, “I’m sorry.”

Sae says nothing, staring, wide-eyed, at the door, though I haven’t heard any noise from beyond it. I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me. I mean, last time Sae was locked up in a cold, dark cell, the sound of the door opening must have heralded Renketh’s approach. Sae must be terrified.

I feel anger rise up in me all over again. It’s not right. She’s so small, so very young, she hasn’t done anything wrong, and yet she’s had to suffer so much, her and so many others, because of this Kagami. It’s appalling. It makes me want to punch something.

I jerk out of my thoughts at the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside. The door opens, and I blink in the sudden light. Beside me, Attaraya readies herself into some manner of fighting stance, and Sae shrinks back further against the wall. Iarin gets to her feet, still trembling.

Well, speak of the devil and he appears. And the figure standing in the doorway happens to be about as close to the devil as anybody can humanly– or Kuarthian-ly, in this case– be. Yup, you guessed it.

“Kagami.” I say.

“The very same.” he says, with an ironic little bow of his head. His voice is like ice, and vaguely familiar... no, not the voice, but another I’ve heard... somewhere before. He turns to Attaraya.

“Miss D’Nar. I never would have expected to meet you here.”

Attaraya returns his greeting with a glare.

“And Miss Noridsemi,” Kagami continues, “It’s been such a long time. I see you chose to disregard some sage advice, and got yourself captured in Naroth anyway. As for you,” he tells Iarin, “I don’t believe I’ve made your acquaintance? Ah well. It’s you, Miss Bering, that I came here to speak with.”

Me…? I wonder, Why? I’m not important here… but I step forward and draw in a deep breath all the same. “The game is up, Kagami.” I snap at him. “We know what you’ve done. And we’ll tell everyone. You’re through.”

“Really.” says Kagami. “You must forgive me if your childish threats fail to intimidate me. Now, before you shoot off your mouth again, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Though...” A thin smile stretches across his face, “I daresay you’ve met already.”

I don’t have my sword, I realize, the guards took it from me back in the Hralhym’s throne room and tossed it aside before I could react. It’s three floors away and without the handle in my grip I feel helpless, vulnerable. I’m not ready to fight, to go against the dragon or the nedra or even Mr. Pitbull Guard from Yoake. But the person coming down the corridor and into the light, skeletal and pale with an oddly vacant expression on his face, isn’t a guard or a nedra or a dragon or any enemy I’ve ever seen before.

It’s Koreth.

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Hey, look, it's the main plotline! : D And the end of part four, to boot. But putting that all aside for a bit, I am rather frustrated with this chapter. I already ranted about the Hralhym's characterization back in my novel journal, but the basic problem is... well, I struggle with her character. It's not that I don't know what her personality is supposed to be like, it's just that I struggle to present it. Really, she looks a lot more volatile and psycho in this chapter than she really is. XD Believe it or not, she's not really an antagonist. But... blargh. This whole set of chapters set in Dara Kozca are difficult for me, really.

Anyway, I'm headed for the Prairie State as of tomorrow, meaning I won't be around the internet much until July 6. See you guys then! Yes, I left you with a cliffhanger and then went on vacation. May I laugh maliciously now?

Thanks again for all your critique and support! It's very much appreciated.