Empire of Ashes

Chapter XXII - Past Wrongs

I flipped onto my knees, noticing for the first time a sea of concerned faces. Fendur, Samira and Bevan were perched on the wooden boards and watching. Glyn was dripping a few paces behind, doing his best to look disinterested.

"That's enough swimming for one day," Fendur decided. "Go and catch your breath on the beach."

"Happily," I said. For the walk back to the sand, I refused all offers of support. I already felt useless enough. No matter how much my head span when I stood, I wouldn't be a swooning little girl. Not by choice.

Sprawled out on the sand, I finally remembered what I had been doing before I saw the sea. Now was the perfect time to weasel it out of Temris — we were alone. Everyone else had gone to catch crabs under the cliffs, while he stayed behind to 'keep an eye' on me, as he put it.

It seemed he was thinking along the same lines. "Lyra ... you have only ever been honest with me — well, mostly. I think it's about time I returned the favour."

"Is this the part where you bare your soul?" I asked.

"I suppose so. You should probably pretend you haven't already guessed most of it."

Exceeding his expectations was getting increasingly difficult. I would now have to guess all of it. My mind raced as I pieced it together. The topics to be avoided: the challenge against the last warlord, Temris's father and the reason why his little brother hated him. Once those three dots were connected, the line could only point to one explanation, and it was so obvious I didn't know how I hadn't seen it sooner.

Gods, no wonder he had tried to hide it. 

Softly, I said, "You don't have to explain yourself to me, you know."

"Yes I do," Temris sighed. "You of all people deserve an explanation. If it weren't for my actions, your family might still be alive."

I met his eyes. "Not for long, though. Herox would have turned his attention south eventually."

"That may be true," he allowed. "I should start at the beginning. The king knew he would need a considerable army when he decided to invade the north. He sailed to Sierra with most of western Anglia at his back. Twenty thousand men in all."

I let out an appreciative whistle. Armies that size appeared but once in a century, if that. Against that many men, not even the entirety of the northern warbands would have stood a chance, let alone Sierra alone.

"I knew we couldn't win," Temris said. "The whole damn country knew we couldn't win, with the notable exception of our warlord. He wanted to fight just for the sake of fighting. An honourable death in combat for our warriors. Slavery or slaughter for our children and elders."

"You disagreed." It wasn't a question.

He nodded. "I refused to put pride above the welfare of my people. So I challenged the Sierran warlord before he could give the order to attack. He may have been stupid and stubborn, but I loved that man. I didn't want to kill him — you have to believe that. But challenges are fought to the death, and he was more than willing to kill me. In the fight, he gave me this."

Without looking away from me, his finger traced the scar below his ribs by memory alone. The memory of a sword point tearing through his flesh. Temris's jaw tightened as he continued the story.

"I was bleeding out onto the dirt, half-dead, with the fate of thousands resting on my shoulders. There was the smallest of openings ... and I chose to take it. I won the fight, and the last warlord died by my hand. What I have been keeping from you ... is that ... he was—"

"He was your father," I finished quietly. "You killed your father."

Temris wouldn't meet my eyes, but he sighed long and low. "I made the right decision. I know that every time I look at you. If I hadn't done what I did, the entire north would have shared your fate — would have been led off in chains over the bones of their loved ones. But it doesn't feel right. Glyn hates me for it. I killed the only parent he had left, so I suppose he has every right to hate me."