The Exiles

21. Our Time Will Come

As night fell upon the land, the three Silvertongue men and young Nessa came upon the tall walls of the gated, sprawling, and rich village of Rohadi, a village that got its name from the opulent manor at the heart of it. A manor that wasn't a manor at all. It was a stronghold castle, built many, many moons ago when there was nothing but large open marshland and moor about this side of Cerulean lands. The open lands. The wildlands. Land at the centre of a very successful spice route. Hence the riches. The village oozed wealth, for even its poorest was not without a suitable home or food. It was a good village. A happy village.

A village that would not stand by quietly as its daughter suffered, nor her family, for that, is what Rita Silvertongue was, the daughter of the village. A daughter they were proud of. So proud, in fact, they held the strongest belief that Ovek the Merciful's reign had only been successful because of the Commander at his side, Rita Anteri. The daughter of the then Lord Anteri and sister of the Rea Anteri, a renowned marksman with an aim like no other. Legend had it Rea's aim was so true the man could pierce a bird's-eye simply by looking at its reflection upon the rippling surface of a river beneath.

In such a man's presence, Ovek the defeated — for that is what he was tonight — walked in through the heavy wooden doors of Rohadi's famous manor with his head hung low, and his mind far too preoccupied.

His children, ahead of him, were visibly relieved as they were not only welcomed into the village but also welcomed by the Lord of the Manor, Lord Rea Anteri himself. Amer and Attin would not say it out loud, but for both of them, their first day back in what was their world had simply made them feel rather alien. Did they truly belong here? They were not so sure. But Nessa marvelled at the majestic limestone walls of the Fort Greton Manor, and equally held her uncle and aunty in awe in their rich silk gowns and even richer jewels. Visions! That is what they were to her.

But the best vision of all?

Her family. Ursa, Vanylla, and even dear little Mawsie. All hurtling towards her with their arms open wide and laughter gurgling out of their throats like music. Granny lumbered behind them, watching the siblings engulf Nessa in their arms until nothing but the top of her head remained.

"Nessie! We missed you!" Mawsie cried, wrapping his arms around her thin waist. "We have so much to tell you! Don't we, Vanylla?"

Vanylla kissed Nessa's head and laughed, unable to let her older sister go. "We do."

Ursa enveloped them all, a bittersweet smile on her face, for she was the only one in that huddle who was aware that Mama had not returned with the rest. The question — Papa, where is Ma? — had died on her lips at the young ones' joy. She gave her brothers a nod that spoke volumes, from 'I've missed you, brothers,' to 'How are we to go on without Ma?'

And Ovek, poor, heartbroken, devastated Ovek, weighed down not only by Rita's mighty swords, strapped to his back but also by his guilt. How could he return to his children and give such a piece of news? He would have much rather died defending his wife if he'd been given the chance.

As Nessa greeted Granny, and Granny introduced her to the Anteris, the unasked question lingered in the air. It lingered in the way disappointment danced on Rea Anteri's face. It hovered in the hunched, resigned shoulders of his own mother. It seeped into the way his older children looked at him.

Where is Rita, Ovek? Where is she? The mother of your children? My sister? Our mother?

Once the squeals had subsided and the family had had a moment to greet one another, the Anteris led them away from the antechamber. "You must be tired and hungry from your travels. Let us break bread before we break anything else," for they couldn't ask the grim questions either. Not yet. Not in front of the children.

And as lavish delicacies loomed ahead of them, set upon the grandest dining table the children had ever laid eyes on, Vanylla turned to her father and her brothers and asked the dreaded question. "Where is Mama?"

Around the room, the air chilled a little as the adults closed their eyes and sighed, knowing what might have happened to Rita Chymer, the once-queen and forever warrior; a commander soldiers would live and fall for.

***

"Your daughter asked then, and I shall ask now. Where is my sister, my old king, my old friend?" Rea Anteri asked more harshly than he meant to as Ursa helped the young to their bedchambers, led away by a maid. "Have you left my sister to fend for herself?" He eyed the swords that rested against the far wall, away from the dining table. His sister's swords.

"Mother was gone when we found Nessie." It was Attin who answered. "All we found of her were those." He, too, watched the cold metal glinting in the dark with dread.

Rea's gaze considered the boy for a while.

"It's true, Uncle." Amer sighed. "We only found drag marks in the pass."

"Drag marks?" Rea turned to Ovek hastily. "You think they took her?"

"What else would a coward king do?" Ovek gritted his teeth, trying to quell the anger bubbling in his chest.

"Why take her? Why not"—finish her? Rea eyed the man seated opposite him.

"Why else?" Granny spoke from her rocking chair. Yes, she'd found a rocking chair by the large fireplace. She spun her hand about her head, and two characters burst forth in the air around an orchard. A boy and a girl. Young. The boy stood behind her, following her through the trees. He plucked a blossom and was about to hand it to her when another figure burst forth ahead of them. Another boy. The girl laughed and ran to him, throwing her arms around the newcomer. The boy she left behind without a glance? He hung his head and let the blossom fall.

Granny snapped her hands, and the flickers disappeared. For a moment, nothing made a sound in the room other than her chair and the crackling fire. That's when she said four paltry words that gave the Silvertongues and the Anteris some hope that their wife, mother, or sister was still alive. And if she was still alive, then there was hope, hope they would be united one day. Not yet. But one day. And those words were, "He still loves her."

Ovek closed his eyes at those words and nodded. "He won't harm a hair on her head. On mine? That's a different story."

"Then be glad you weren't there." Rea looked determined. "But for now, we know we can get her back."

"When?" Amer rose to his feet, ready to march. Attin joined his brother.

"Not yet." Ovek filled his chest with air and rose, an icy look upon his face. "Our time will come, but first, we have work to do, boys. We have to summon an army."

And with those few words, the world was about to change as Silvertongues knew it. They were no longer the family at the fringes of society. They were at the center, and that was how it was going to be. It was only a matter of time.

"Our time will come." Rea held out his hand at the centre of the table. "For Rita."

"For Rita!" Ovek stacked his hand upon his brother's.

His boys followed. "For mother."

"For Ma!" A fifth hand found its way upon all others. A hand of a new Commander who'd returned tucking the children in. She eyed the men and simply replied as if they'd asked a question. "You're going to need a commander."

Ah, and so they would. And what a wonderful commander she was going to make. Ursa Silvertongue. The gentlest soul in that clan.