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

Chapter 44: Aebbé - Debt

“There are four things every person has more of than they know; sins, debt, years, and foes.” - Persian Proverb

The sun raises ever high into the crisp sky while the stale air of summer threatens to suffocate the city.

Father decided that we must go on a picnic to the apple orchard, and I am hopping along, Ria trailing behind me. The boys and other girls are just on our heels, their giggles filling the orchard with life.

I begged Ferdaid and Friduric to come along, but they denied my requests stating that someone had to stay behind while Father went frolicking around to give me the childhood neither Father nor them had.

One of the boys, I cannot remember which one, suggests that we play hide-and-seek. Not wanting to me a marsh dweller, I reluctantly agree.

I hide among the apple trees. The crunch of twigs make my heart beat so fast that I am convinced I'll faint. A sigh of relief escapes my lips as Quintrell and his closest three friends make their appearance.

“Quin, you can't hide here as well. If Saum finds us all together, he'll win,” I whisper.

“Perhaps, Princess, there is a greater prize at stake than winning the game.” The red in his eyes, the snarl of his lips, and his stance - akin to that of a rabid dog ready to pounce - cause the world to tilt and tumble as I stagger backwards. The soft grass and crunchy ground collides with my back.

“Princess, wake up!” is the first thing I hear before being splashed with water in the face, the icy cold drenching me to the bone.

“On the Council! What on earth!”

“Relax! Just wake up,” Lord Caith says with a grin.

My frown creeps off my face. “Oh, now I remember. You know, lord Caith, a gentle touch or whisper would have woken me just as easily.”

“I tried. The water was a last resort. Please, do not call me lord Caith anymore; just Caith will do as well.”

“I do not believe you.” As I sit up, I realise that the sun barely changed position in the sky. Exhaustion cramps my muscles as I stretch them.

“Caith is the name I go by,” he says, extending that damned smile on his pretty face.

“No, I do not believe that the water was the last resort to wake me.” Guilt gnaws at me as I reprimand him, knowing that the cold sweat of fear from my nightmare and the freezing water are indistinguishable on my clothes.

“What you believe is up to you. We have to get going.”

Seeing the nails of the hand he offers me with nervous ridges bitten into their whites, fuels my imagination. Does his responsibilities as Lord Commander of the Second Order weigh that heavily upon him? Does the tense relationship he has with his family plague him so often?

“You really have to work on your manners.” My palm connects with his as he firmly grasps my hand, making my fingers all but disappear in his.

“I have to work on mine? Funny, I recall saving you from an abandoned town, offering you food and clothes, and weapons, and I have not heard one word of thanks from your mouth,” Caith replies vehemently as he pulls me to my feet.

That silences me for a moment. A warm buzz remains on my skin after Caith lets go of my hand, before walking to the horses to untie them. He must have removed the saddles sometime during our sleep.

“I apologise for my inexcusable behaviour. I do not have any reason for it that could suffice as an apology. I do not have any token of my appreciation to offer either. I am not good with words, but I do know that my life is in your debt.” Lowering my eyes, I take the reigns from him and put Desert's saddle on, tying the girdle tightly.