Chapter 25

“We never should have left him.”

They were sitting at the low table. Hours in silence, in hope that if their fears remained unspoken, they could not be realized. But their food was left untouched and as the minutes ticked by the shadow of their dread covered them all in darkness.

“It was his wish,” replied Erykos, “Had we stayed we would have been more trouble than help.”

“He should have been back by now,” Ilaria whimpered. “He said to wait for him. Why…” She did not dare finish.

“He will return, Ilaria. Whatever you think of Darios, he would not let them harm our father.”

“Darios,” she spat out his name, “The child slayer?”

She had not seen him, after the fighting she did not know.

“If you had been there after the fighting when the torches were lit and he saw their faces, you would know that it broke him. He did not know.”

Ilaria sat there, hands tangled into knots in her hair.

“And what if it had been me? It could have been. I was there when he cut down…”

This thought had been eating at Arios. Gnawing away at his heart. She had been there, and he had led the captain right to her.

“I was there as well.”

“I know.”

“It was dark,” he choked. “We knew we were outnumbered.” He needed her to understand. Her disgust in Darios was mirrored in his own shame. “We thought…I…I told him it was Kyrithon soldiers. It was because of me.”

Ilaria gazed at him sadly, in her eyes he saw the shadow of an unknown pain. “You are still a child, Ari. Captain Darios is a man grown and a veteran of many battles. He would have known. My companions were brave, but they were no soldiers.”

The rain came down in torrents, crashing against their home. It was always strongest at the end.

“If he would kill those boys then he would kill our father.”

The guilt washed over him, drowning him in its waves.

“This is no time for such dark thoughts.” Erykos pulled them close. “No matter what happens, your father will not be harmed. His value is too great to our city. Even more so now with the damage to the river wall.”

The warmth of his embrace did little to comfort Arios and though the hearth crackled and glowed he felt cold. It came from his chest and radiated throughout his being. The darkness closed in and he yearned for the dawn.

************

It was not until the third watch that Arios heard the courtyard gate creek open. He struggled to rise but Erykos caught his harm.

“Wait,” he whispered.

Erykos stood. Hand on his blade. He watched the door, anxious but steeled in his purpose.

The door flung and Ilaria let out a yelp.

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“Father!” She ran to him. He had a wild look about him. Eyes darting frantically, fingers twitching, soaked to the bone.

“Father, we were so worried.”

He did not answer, continuing to survey the room. Finally, he seemed satisfied and spoke, “Children, gather your things. You are leaving the city.”

“Father, what do you mean? What has happened?”

“There is no time for questions boy! Take only what you can carry now go and be quick!”

“Stop treating me like a child!”

The words slipped out, echoing into the darkness. He should not have said it but it was all he wanted. He glared at Father waiting, daring him to reply.

Father gazed back at him. The frenzy that had gripped him was gone. Replaced by grief and perhaps regret.

“Lord Kalydor is dead. The city will be thrown into chaos. We are all leaving, you must take your sister and go ahead. There is something I must do first. Then I will join you.”

Arios felt his stomach sink. It was no shock but he was speechless all the same. He had not known Lord Kalydor but he believed in his love for the city. Without him Kenosia would surely fall to ruin, stripped bare by the greed of the Great Houses.

Father took Erykos’s hands in his own, “I must ask of you one last favor.”

“Anything, master.”

“Take my children out of the city. Through the Stacks. You are the only one I can trust.”

Erykos bowed his head, “I will protect them with my life.”

“Thank you.” The two men embraced.

“Go! Gather your things.”

Arios ran down the hall to his bedchamber. He would not need much time. He seized his cloak and threw it over his shoulders. Then he grabbed his satchel and began filling it. There was not much to take. He packed his extra tunic, his coin purse, a small knife and the carving of Ikor that Ilaria had gifted him so many years ago. From under his bed, he pulled his shield and spear. Hanging his short sword from his waist he exited into the hallway.

He stopped in the courtyard, at the altar to Kallidrios. The gods had no answers for him, but the comb, the last of his mother’s possessions rested here. If they were to leave the city behind, they would not do so without her. He lifted it from is place by the lamplight. He would be strong. For Father. For Ilaria. They would escape this darkness and build a new home for them and a new rest for Mother. They would be together and all would be well again.

************

In the dining hall Father sat at the low table. He was pouring over his journals engrossed in thought. Erykos sat with him but stood when Arios entered.

“Where is your sister?”

“I am here,” called Ilaria. Appearing from the hall just behind Arios.

“Daidal?”

Father did not respond, engrossed in his text.

“Daidal, it is time.”

Finally, Father looked up.

“Oh…Yes of course. Erykos… would you give me a moment with my children?”

“I shall wait outside the gate.”

Only at the sound of the gate slamming shut did Father finally speak.

“Come here my children, let me look you.”

His first words were for Ilaria.

“My dear girl.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You have grown so much.” His eyes were shining as he smiled down at her, “You are so like your mother, compassionate and bold. You did not stand by and let the people of our city so suffer. You took action and for that she would have been so proud of you, as I am.”

He gripped her tightly leaning close to whisper in her ear.

When she pulled away her eyes swam in tears, spilling over her face and splashing to the floor.

“I love you,” she cried.

But as she said the words her face grew calm. She wiped the tears from her eyes, “We will wait for you,” she said. Then Ilaria left the room and she did not look back.

They were alone now.

Arios stared across the room at his father. He was barely recognizable. He seemed to have aged twenty years in the past the month. Streaks of grey stained his hair and the lines in his face cut deep. He looked so frail, so tired.

“Arios.”

“Yes Father.”

“Have I… raised you well?”

“Of course, Father. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“I hoped to teach you so much more…”

“You still can. Once we are away from Kenosia. I know I have disappointed you in the past but I am ready to learn all that you would teach me.”

Father gazed at him. Haggard, pale, eyes haunted. “Arios, you could never disappoint me. You are rash, impetuous and too strong willed for your own good. But you are also kind and loyal and above all you are my son.” His lips trembled and he swayed as if caught in the wind.

“Arios, come here. There is something I must tell you before we part.”

Arios ran to him. Throwing his arms around him and burying his face in his shoulder as he had when he was just a child. Father held him tightly but his hands shook. And then Father whispered into his ear.

He reeled back. Shock crashing into him like the waves of an ocean storm. The world had come to a halt, like he had stepped into one of his dreams.

“Be brave Arios,” Father called out to him.

But he was already gone. Out into the night and the rain and the darkness. It was a familiar dream—one he had seen many times. Beneath the moonless sky his mother called to him.