The Chronicles Of The Council #1: The Sun's Tears

Chapter 3: Aebbé - Allies

"We are products of our past but we don't have to be prisoners of it." – Rick Warren

Raven's Peak, Ardam 40

I almost hit my forehead with my palm halfway down the stairs when I realise that the lifts are now being operated.

Idiot.

I'm so tired I can barely think. After the long darkness, the sun's bright rays pierces my eyes. The world threatens to tilt as my dizzy head whirls reality away. A warm hand saves me from colliding with the cobbled road.

I look up into the most beautiful blue eyes – brighter than the sky: Lord Caith - the one and only.

"Are you feeling ill?"

Ill? Why would I feel ill?

"I haven't eaten since yesterday morning," I say in realisation for the first time as my starved stomach gnaws into my intestines.

He looks truly astonished. "How does one not eat? Except if... But you do not look like you cannot afford food."

"It is not due to needing, but I have been quite occupied."

"With what?"

"One of the things was defying the king and giving you supplies."

He grins: "That is the reason I have come: to thank you."

"I would like to stand here and accept your gratitude, but I fear I won't be able to stand for much longer."

His hands on my shoulder slacks and he takes my left hand. The customary awkwardness of being touched by other people is oddly absent as his hands gently clutch mine.

"I do suppose that you need not a declaration of gratitude presently, but would currently prefer food as thanks. Unfortunately, I cannot send you off until I know that you have energy enough to arrive wherever you are going."

His way of speaking is like reading an old book - those old ones filled with legend and mystery singing songs of brave warriors and hopeless romantics.

He gently leads me down the streets to a market.

"Stay here. I think you will drop dead if you walk another step."

I don't have the energy to argue. I sit down on the steps. My head twirls and bounces like a toddler spinning around giggling.

He comes back and sits next to me. He hands me a piece of cloth with something wrapped inside. The intense smell of bacon, mushrooms and molten cheese unfolds, causing the uncomfortable tug in my stomach to lurch in joy.

Five bites in I realize that Lord Caith isn't eating and I immediately become self-conscious. I stop chewing. I swallow while looking at him with wide eyes.

"You are still in the same dress as last night."

"I worked."

"The whole night?" He says with what I think is a hint of mockery.

As the food plugs the hole in my being, I become more aware of my surroundings. The scurry of merry housewives with their tittle-tattle fill the square. The streets buzz withthe clippety-clop and cheerful neighing of horses pulling their carts stacked with wares for the market.

I nod as I study a paunchy fellow dashes after a ragamuffin with cheeks covered in soot, his belly swaying dangerously with every step.

Caith sees my confusion as he guffaws, his merry laughter filling me with glee.