ZIHAEN, The Shadow of the Revenaunt, Book 2

CHAPTER 21 - AVELORE (Part 1)

The next morning, two piteous boys entered the tent. Ghyll saw them coming, but he said nothing and went on dressing.

'Ai, what's that stink?' Zino cried, with two fingers to his nose. 'Oh, it's you, Torril. You know, if I were you I wouldn't report to Ghyll in that condition. As king, he has a reputation to uphold and a squire who smells like a drunken zibul is not helpful. You know how to find the river?'

Torril moaned and Anliin, his tanned skin gray, made small sounds in his throat.

'Get out, you two!' Zino said hastily. 'Don't you dare to be sick in here.'

Without a word, the boys turned around and staggered away, followed by the merciless laughter of their friends.

When they came back an hour later, they looked more or less presentable again. Anliin's grayness had disappeared, probably with his stomach contents, but their eyes were bloodshot and their hands trembled.

Ghyll glanced at Torril. The boy flinched and began quietly to pack his luggage. Over his head, Ghyll saw how Zino grinned at him and he gave a silent wink.

Anliin was walking aimlessly back and forth, touching a bag here and there, as if he wanted to engrave it all in his memory. Suddenly he sank down on the floor and hid his face in his hands. The tears dripped through his fingers to the ground.

'What's wrong with him?' Ghyll asked.

Torril went to his friend on the floor and put an arm around him. 'He's sad because I... because we're leaving,' he said. 'Soon he will be alone again.'

'But there are plenty of other boys here.'

Torril shrugged. 'Yes, but nobody wants to hang out with him. Perhaps because his father is the chief? I never had real friends at home either.'

Silently Ghyll blessed Uncle Jadron for giving him Olle. Otherwise, he would've been alone as a child, too.

'Finish your packing later,' he said. 'Come with me, both of you.'

They walked to the chief's tent and ducked inside.

Zenyuun was sitting in his usual spot, with the priest beside him. Anliin bowed to his father. The chief looked at his son. 'You were enjoying yourself last night?'

Anliin blushed and nodded.

'My son, a tianthuu cannot afford that kind of debauchery,' the chief said sternly.

'But... everyone knows I never will be tianthuu,' the boy said miserably.

'That's in the god's hands, Anliin-an-Shi.' The old priest plucked a bone from his hair and gave it to the boy. 'Here, sew it somewhere on your robe. And your father has something to tell you.'

Speechlessly, the boy took the bone and turned to the chief.

Zenyuun sighed. 'Son, we have decided that it is better for you to go elsewhere for a time. Maybe your magic needs more time, or maybe it needs room you don't get here with everyone watching you. Ghyllander of Rhidauna is willing to take you with him. Maybe the... Owan Abai will loosen your powers.'

'Oh,' Anliin cried and grabbed Torril's arm. 'I'm to go with you!' Then he fell on his knees before the chief. 'Thank you, father. Oh, now everything is well again,' he said, while the tears ran down his cheeks.

'Is it so bad here?' the astonished priest said.

Anliin took a deep breath. 'I'm so very alone here,' he said. 'The other boys laugh at me because I can't do anything. I can't speak with the dead nor succeed my father, nothing.'