The Vixen Trials

Lies or truth?

"Through violence comes peace"

Dakkoul

"No, not really." Jalen scratched a gray patch of hair on his chin. "A man who agrees with so many people is suppressing a lot. Who knows what he actually thinks? But I like him, all the same."

"He is likeable," Dakkoul admitted seeing Malek now scrubbing the floors with the boy with black curly hair called Pipsqueak. Much more likeable than me. A movement at the door drew his attention. It was Coleus, the frown on his lips dragging down the scar that messed up the whole left side of his face, making him look more grotesque than usual. He never ate in the dining room anymore. Dakkoul stood up expecting to be summoned but Coleus was not looking for him. He called to Malek under the table. Malek bounded over to him. They spoke, then he plodded over to Dakkoul and hung his head. 

"Are you to go to Lord Rustavan?" Dakkoul guessed.

"I don't want to, Hattavah," said Malek wiping his hands on his thin tunic and furrowing his brow.  Dakkoul stared at him and found himself believing him. He shook off the notion. Trust had to be earned and earned again. It could not be assumed.

Jalen came forward to make it a circle. "Please don't report what Alyssia said. She'll settle down."

Malek shook his head. "I won't."

"You best go," said the Hattavah, trying to sound neutral but it made his insides twist to think of Malek discussing him with Lord Rustavan. "I'll be in my room when you finish. You are not to disturb me. Sleep outside the door."

They watched him leave. Jalen raised his eyebrows.

"Part of my punishment from Lord Rustavan. My own personal slave. Only his job is to spy on me, to make sure I fulfill my duties."

"I guess you'll know soon enough if you can trust him."

The Hattavah shrugged. Lord Rustavan was clever about using information at the most damaging time. He wouldn't blurt out anything he learned like a child spilling secrets. "It's getting late."

Jalen took the hint. "Must go pack for tomorrow," he said his hand resting on the table as he stood. "You've relieved my mind, Hattavah."

He held his hand out to the Dakkoul, who looked at it for a moment before he shook it, remembering that other strange hand he had so recently shook. Was Jagur even still alive?

Pipsqueak poked his head up out from under the table and Dakkoul waved his fingers in his direction, receiving a grin in return before he went out of the dining room and down the drafty hallway to his quarters.

"Hattavah?" said an all too familiar voice, saying his name with a funny little lilt in the middle, a protest perhaps that she was calling him that at all. Keilah.

He swiveled around in the hallway that was somehow empty of everyone except them, taking in her silk dress with the white fur collar and cuffs and Alyssia hovering behind her.

"There's something I must tell you. My name has been put forward for The Vixen Trials."

It felt like a slap to the stomach, but he responded with careful indifference. "The Prince would be brilliant match for you, Keilah, if you want to stay here. You would have the best of everything."

The corner of her lips trembled. "What's he like?"

"I've only met him once, a couple of years ago. They say he is everything a Wayvolkan Lord should be. You'd match," Dakkoul said diplomatically, recalling as he spoke the boy who woke at the slightest sound. His acute hearing and his open, friendly manner had saved his life. He wondered what the boy was like now he had matured.