A day passed, with only the briefest of meals, and then it was night, and Mai lay on the ground beside Ishad’s bed. Ishad had not awoken since the healer had done her job, and Ral had come and gone, seeing that Ishad was still asleep.

Ral said, during his brief visit that the sleep was nothing to worry about, that it just meant Ishad was healing all the faster, but Mai had not been so sure.

On the ground, right then, Mai busied herself with thoughts not of Ishad’s ailment. The memory that had been stirred up, of her last encounter with her father, had brought up a host of other issues, all muddled and tangled together, ranging from Broken, to, well, Broken.

That night, Mai had a dreamless sleep, but it was not a restful one. She woke up in the morning, worried that Ishad might never do the same.

But when Mai got up, and walked over to Ishad, she saw him breathing peacefully on the bed. A moment later, he, sensing her presence, tiredly opened his eyes.

“So, one of the last things I heard before I fell unconscious was that you saved my life, by getting Ral, who knew where to find a healer,” said Ishad.

Mai felt a tiny surge of pride. “Indeed,” she said. “But it was nothing.”

“Of course it was,” said Ishad. “But for some reason, I’m grateful all the same. How was the healer’s payment taken care of?”

“Ral said he would deal with that,” said Mai.

“Now,” said Ishad, “we need to find a way to get moving. I can’t walk, or ride, but I know people who can get us a three-horse carriage. I’ll have to speak with Ral, and I’ll thank him for yesterday, and talk to him about this.”

“But, the healer said you have to stay in bed for a few more days,” said Mai. “You shouldn’t be moving around.”

“Maybe so,” said Ishad. “But your safety comes before my comfort. I won’t let us all sit around Barad like idiots, waiting for the might of the Makini to fall on us.”

“So…I’ll go find him?” said Mai.

“No,” replied Ishad. “You won’t be able to find him. He has today off. I know where he lives, but he won’t be there. He’s never home. We can wait for him to come to us. He’ll visit today, probably in only a couple hours.”

“All right,” said Mai. “Should I go get you some breakfast?”

“Not yet,” said Ishad. “I have something say. I realize I never told you my last name. Before I was a monk, I didn’t have one, but now I do, again. It’s not all that important, considering, and even without it you know more about me than most.” He paused. “But we are in the company of Broken, who will not say that much about himself. I want to make it clear I am keeping no secrets from you. My last name is Aran.”

Mai stared at him. In most situations, saying a last name would mean nothing, but under the current conditions, the truth was the exact opposite. She felt suddenly ashamed that when Ishad had said he wanted to leave the city as soon as possible, she had immediately agreed with him. She could not change her mind, as staying and being captured by the Makini would result in death. So she didn’t know what to say.

“Your words mean more to me than you can imagine,” said Mai. “The only reason I agreed with you about leaving so quickly, is because, well, we have to.” She paused, and prepared to say a set of words that before that day, she had never before dreamed she would say honestly.

“I love you.”

“Those words mean more to me than you can imagine,” said Ishad, mirroring Mai. “They make everything I have done feel worthwhile.”

“I’ll go get breakfast,” said Mai.

And so she did. Downstairs, she encountered a pleasant surprise. Ral was entering the common room just as she walked in. Mai ate briefly, then led Ral to Ishad, gave Ishad his meal, and walked out of the room to let the two talk alone.

For some reason, then, she was drawn once more to Broken’s room. Again, she opened the door without knocking, and again, he was inside. This time, instead of meditating on the floor, he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. His back was to Mai, and he made no sign of knowing she was in the room.

“Ishad woke up,” said Mai.

“Good for him.”

“I was thinking last night,” said Mai, “about a great many things.”

“Good for you.”

“In that process,” said Mai, continuing, “I believe I realized something. I realized why you came to save me, and why you are still here.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“You are attracted to me,” said Mai.

“That is an interesting idea, but the truth is, if I wanted you, I could have had you at so many different times.”

Mai realized this was true, but was not deterred. “You wanted me to love you back,” she said.

“Love is a strong word. A very, very strong word.”

“And you make what happened to Ishad happen,” said Mai. “Because you could not believe I was falling for him, instead of you.”

Broken got up, and turned to her, so that they stood face to face. “You believe I am that spiteful?” he asked. His gray eyes showed nothing but coldness.

“I do,” said Mai, standing up to his gaze.

“You seem to believe that you are one others would fight for,” said Broken. “But, let me explain a few things. You are far from ugly, but you are also far from being the most beautiful girl in the whole, wide world. I have traveled far, and I have seen commoners more pretty than you. Any one of which I could have had. I am not a man who wants for things, after he sets his mind on them. And you are nothing special.

“Perhaps once, any many would have been lucky to have you, because you were the Princess of the Empire. But now your father is gone, and you, because of the fact that you are the Princess of the Empire, are hunted. Any man with you adds a target to his back as well.

“I ask you,” said Broken, “Do you think I want an average-looking girl, whose relationship is likely to be the end of me?

He stared at her with those gray eyes, and Mai didn’t know why she had come here. Last night, everything had seemed so clear. Now, it was all she could do to keep from crying.

“Do you think I would want to trade places with Ishad?” asked Broken. “Do you really? He is a marked man. The only reason I did what I did was to make him a tiny bit more prepared for what will come.”

“If that,” said Mai, choking back tears, “is truly your opinion, why do you continue to stay with us? Are not you at risk by being so close to me?”

“I made an oath,” said Broken. “I will not leave you unless you release me from it. Furthermore, death will not come to me unless I wish it to.”

“You’re like my father,” said Mai. “You think you’re perfect, but you’re not. You’re just human like everyone else, but you’re doing your best to hide it. Whether you are attracted to me, or whether I was a fool is irrelevant. You act like you’re trying to be God. I can only have relationships, of any kind, friend or lover, with people who can talk to me like I am their equal. You do not do that. You hide things from me. You are not my friend. I will not release you from your oath, because you have saved my life more than once, and it seems likely you will do so again.

“You should never have crawled out of the swamp that birthed you, commoner.”

“Classest again, are we?” asked Broken. “You know, your boyfriend is little better on the scales.”

“I apologize for that slip,” said Mai. “It is not your commoner background that made you the self-righteous bastard you are. You did that yourself.”

Broken’s gray eyes still stared at her.

“Stay here,” said Mai. “Ishad is arranging the purchase of a carriage, since he can temporarily no longer walk. We should be out of here by the end of the day.” She paused, and added another phrase. “No thanks to you.”

Mai turned from the room, and walked out. Broken did not make an effort to follow her.

Mai returned to the room where Ishad lay. His breakfast was finished, and Ral was gone.

“How did things go?” she asked him.

“We talked for a while. He knows as much as I can safely tell him.” Ishad continued. “Ral’s going to find another friend of mine, and that friend will get us the carriage. We should be able to leave this afternoon. I can only hope that will leave us with enough time to get us to Asan Paril.”

“It will,” said Mai. “Don’t worry.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“When I was talking, where were you?” asked Ishad.

“Talking to Broken.”

“You think what happened is his fault, don’t you?” said Ishad.

“I know it’s his fault,” said Mai. “He admitted it.”

Ishad was barely taken aback. “Broken wanted to test me,” he said. “My body doesn’t appreciate him that much, but it’s over, now.”

“How can you be so placid about all this?” asked Mai.

“Because there’s nothing I can do. He’s still our ally, and he still saved both our lives. He’s doing far more good than harm.”

“But--” said Mai.

“If he does anything like that again, I’ll be significantly angrier,” said Ishad. “But I don’t think there’s anything to be done right now that will help. We must get you to Asan Paril, and Broken can help.” He paused. “Unless Broken said he’s not coming with us.”

“Broken’s coming,” said Mai. “He feels strongly about the oath he made to me.”

‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” asked Ishad. “Look at the positive things in life.”

“I’m trying,” said Mai.

The next few hours passed swiftly as they waited for the carriage to arrive at the Restless Dog. Around lunchtime, Ral came upstairs to tell of its arrival, and that it was waiting for them near the stables, under the inn’s protection. He then said his goodbyes to Ishad, and left.

After Mai and Ishad ate together, Mai notified Broken that they were ready to leave Barad. To his credit, he was immediately ready to go.

Broken helped Ishad down the stairs, with much greater ease than Mai had been graced with taking him up. The three-horse carriage was ready and waiting by the inn’s stables, just as Ral had said it would be.

After those who worked at the Restless Dog were paid for Mai, Ishad, and Broken’s stay, the stable-hand at the inn was more than willing to help them with the horses.

Even still, Broken did most of the work, with a quickness that put the stable-hand to shame. They were soon ready to go.

Broken took the reins, and sat at the driver’s post on the outside, as Mai and Ishad got inside the carriage.

The seats inside were wooden, and lacked padding, and were also thin, so the only place for Ishad to go was on the floor.

Mai put a blanket Broken had gotten from somewhere over Ishad, and settled herself into one of the carriage’s seats, carefully making sure her feet were not bumping into Ishad.

The door was closed, and then Broken started to move the carriage. Barad was traveled through, and disappeared in short order, nothing like the way they had left the Holy Citadel.

Aruith, Swift, and Stride seemed quick to accustom themselves to the carriage, or so it seemed, and the ride was plain and uneventful.

As the hills and fields rolled by, Mai talked a little to Ishad, until she got the feeling that it hurt him to talk. Then, a silence lapsed over the carriage. The carriage was nothing like the one Broken had rode her out of the Occluded City in, but Mai could not help but feel a connection. This carriage was larger, and not as luxurious by far, but Mai could not help but feel a connection. She could not understand it. But the connection was there.

At the end of the long, tiresome day, Broken pulled the cart off the side of the road. Mai eased Ishad off the floor of the cart and onto the grass, and they all ate dinner, after which, Broken insisted that Mai spar with him.

They walked a distance away from Broken, and then Mai was handed Savel’s one time sword. Broken drew the other.

“This is the first time we have a pair of swords,” he said.

“One is tainted,” said Mai.

“Why?” asked Broken, even as he whipped the blade he carried in an ever-faster circle around his chest.

“Because it hurt Ishad,” said Mai.

“You must forget your elementary notions of good and evil,” said Broken. “The sword you hold did not hurt Ishad. It was a tool that Savel used to hurt Ishad. There is nothing wrong with it.”

Broken then lunged at Mai, but his movements were considerably slow, and Mai was able to block his sword thrust.

“See?” said Broken. “Your sword defends like any other. But you already knew that, didn’t you.”

“Others, who cared more about honor, would shun this sword for hurting their friend,” said Mai.

“But you do not, I see,” said Broken. “Good.”

Something about his tone provoked a physical response from Mai, but she had learned since her first lesson. She was not going to be embarrassed again.

Mai twisted her sword from its clash with Broken’s, then pulled back as if she were going for a chop, but instead, struck out with the pommel of her sword.

As if he had been expecting this, Broken pivoted, and easily evaded.

“How did you know I was going to do that?” asked Mai, a little faint from her effort.

“Because you saw what Savel did to Ishad,” said Broken. “The move was predictable. However, I applaud you for learning something from that fight.”

It was as if Broken was coaxing Mai to fight harder. She slashed at him again, and again, and again, holding nothing back, but with each strike, Broken easily countered.

Mai was breathing heavily now, and Broken had not a sweat. “Would those attacks have taken out a lesser opponent?” asked Mai.

“Perhaps,” Broken responded. “Perhaps. I have a question for you, now, a question in light of all which we have been through together. What do you think of me?”

“I already told you back at the inn in Barad,” said Mai.

“That was said in the heat of the moment,” said Broken. “Is it true?”

“The heat of the moment?” said Mai, with some mirth. “A heat you made. You insulted everything there was to insult about me.”

Under the night sky, and under the empty road and grassland, Broken spoke again. “You wanted me to be the enemy, then. It helped with your grief. I obliged.”

“You are the enemy,” said Mai. “You hurt Ishad.”

“In a way, yes,” said Broken. “But only to teach both he and you a lesson about the frailties of being mortal. We had been in danger too long for someone to not get hurt.”

“You could have found another way!” said Mai.

“Indeed,” said Broken, “I could have. But I highly doubt it would have been preferable if you were the one laying on the ground now, recovering from the healing of major wounds.”

“You would have never done that to me,” said Mai.

“Exactly.”

“You disgust me,” said Mai.

“But now I will ask again. What do you think of me? We have known each other beyond that one event.”

“Every time I think I know who you are, you change,” said Mai. “First I thought you a bandit or a murderer, but then you proved me wrong, when you were noble at that cave of thieves. Then I truly thought you wanted to help, until you made me spend a month at a farm. Then, I thought you were insane, but afterwards, it seemed you were trying to rid me of bigotry, if in a bizarre manner. Then you seemed honest and kind, if secretive, at least until yesterday.”

“So, before yesterday, you thought I was a good person,” said Broken.

“No,” said Mai. “I don’t know who you are. You won’t tell me anything about you.”

“So then,” said Broken, “What do you think you know about me?”

“You’re a commoner and a warrior,” said Mai. “You worked as a warrior in the Occluded Palace, but before that, you traveled the world, and became the best fighter I have ever seen. And my father took me to a lot of tourneys.”

“First of all, thank you for the compliment,” said Broken. “But I have told you time and time again, you would not want to know the truth about me.”

“What kind of secret could be so horrible?” asked Mai. “If you told me, it would go a long way to making up for what you did, yesterday.”

“Let me tell you something, Mai,” said Broken. “I have sworn to protect you, and so I will allow not harm to come to you.”

His next words were frightening. “However, according to the laws of honor, I would be well within my rights to kill you, right now.”

“My God,” said Mai. “What…how?”

For the first time, Broken looked sad. His face furrowed, and his eyes half-closed.

“What could I have possibly done to you?” asked Mai.

“You did nothing,” said Broken. “This is a thing of bloodlines. But you now have a glimpse of the reason why I can say no more.”

They spared a little after that, silently. Then they both laid down in the grass, and got to sleep.

Mai’s dreams that night had no snakes, or dire warnings. They were normal dreams, all twisted, and convoluted, and nonsensical. But they all featured Broken, and what he had said.

In the morning, three travelers woke up together, and two picked themselves up off the ground.

Breakfast was quick, then Mai and Broken helped Ishad get into the cart, and into a seat this day, and then they were off.

In the carriage together, as Broken drove the horses from the outside, Ishad said, “You look troubled, Mai. What is the matter?”

Mai wanted to tell him what was wrong, what Broken had said. She really, really did. And yet, she felt she could not. Mai had been with Broken for along time. She understood he would never hurt her.

But would Ishad be so sure, after what Broken had done to him? Mai thought not. The mystery of how her bloodline could have wronged him was hers to bear alone. She could not tell Ishad.

“Nothing,” said Mai. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.”

“I’m fine.”

And with that, second insistence, Ishad fell quiet. The carriage was silent.

With that one problem, Mai was alone.

That night, they stopped at a town named Bola. It was reasonably sized, and had a single inn, the Nameless Wretch. The inn’s name was horrible, but still, it provided reasonable accommodations.

What was far more eerie about the town, was that all its residents seemed tired, and sullen. The town looked as if it could hold twice as many people as were within. In the common room of the Nameless Wretch, after they had helped settle Ishad into a bed, Mai and Broken learned the reason.

“Visitors, eh?” said the bartender, and the crowd in the room, mostly the old and the female, laughed. “You did not come to Bola at the right time, I fear.”

Broken and Mai sat down at a table. Whereupon, Broken called over the heads of others, “What’s wrong about this time?”

The bartender looked at him. “This be a time of terror, traveler. This be a time of war.” His aged face paled. “All of our young ones are gone now, conscripted, or levied, if you will. At Taramad Hill, only a few miles from here, our army waits for the Makini. They will be here in a couple of days, no more. Our boys out there are celebrating this as their last night of peace.”

“How do you know they are coming?” asked Broken.

“A week ago, the remnants of a defeated Vedil army came here. They said the Makini were on the march, and we had to prepare for them. They said other Vedil couldn’t help us. The hundred or so left from the Vedil army levied what young men were in Bola, and the surrounding lands, and began to train them. We have perhaps four thousand soldiers on Taramad Hill.”

“And how strong are the Makini who will come?” asked Broken.

“Ten thousand,” said the bartender. “And from what we hear of them, trained to perfection. Much as I would like to think Vedil heart will win out over Makini brawn, I do not think any of us here believe that Taramad Hill is a battle we can win. We are lucky, though. The Makini army had been before grouped into one huge group, but now we have to deal with but half.”

“Half the Makini army,” said an old woman, raising her glass to make a toast. “Against our poor sons and daughters.”

“And our grandchildren,” said an even older man, sunken into a corner of the dimly lit room. He raised his glass, as well.

“Hear, hear,” said the room, and all glasses were raised. And the room, as a whole, drank from them.

Broken got up, and so did Mai.

“Off to bed?” asked the bartender. “Had enough of our somber talk?” He slowly was cleaning a dirty glass.

“Indeed,” said Broken. “But my heart is behind yours.”

“Varsis is coming,” cackled the old woman, who had spoken before. “Young Strong Hand. The one whose metal hand strangles all. He is coming for us, you know, with all of his brilliant strategies. Dream of him tonight. May God have mercy on us all.”

With Broken, Mai hurried up the stairs to the bedrooms, away from the common room.

At the door to her room of the three, she turned to Broken, who was just about to open his own door.

“The people downstairs frighten me,” said Mai.

“Do not worry,” said Broken. “If they speak true, we will be out of here before the Makini fall upon the town.”

“That’s not it,” said Mai. “It’s just, the way the people were acting, it’s like they welcomed death.”

“They believe they cannot win,” said Broken. “And without hope, one does welcome the end. Not that it will come to them, of course. The Makini will not kill the old. These people will merely mourn their dead children for the rest of their lives.”

“Goodnight,” said Mai.

“Goodnight,” said Broken.

Then they went into their respective rooms.

In her bed, Mai wondered why she had told Broken she was afraid, and why, in a very odd way, his words had comforted her. They were honest, and while just as depressing as what those downstairs had said, brought with them stability. No matter what happened, no matter whether she wanted him or not, Broken would always be there, a solid in the shifting future.

Then Mai remembered that Varsis was the general who led the Makini army, and suddenly, she was terrified.