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Authors: T. Eric Bakutis
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little else.”
Halde crossed his arms and raised one hand to his chin, stroking his short black beard. “There was a recent skirmish at the Layn River ... a dust up of sorts between an invading force of Tellvan soldiers and the Mynt garrison at Layn Keep.”
Trell saw Kara grimace out of the corner of his eye. She hadn’t known. He wondered how far they were from Layn Keep.
“The Leader of Armies arrived almost a week ago with a large force of soldiers. Had he not done so, the Tellvan would have crushed Layn Keep. His cavalry and footmen routed the Tellvan, and many remained days after to repair the fortress.”
“You think I was involved in that battle.” Trell leaned forward and tried to picture it, him fighting Tellvan or Mynt soldiers. “You think that’s how I was injured.”
Both provinces were familiar to him, Mynt’s great mountains and Tellvan’s endless sands, and it seemed impossible that he could remember that while not remembering so much else. He forced his thoughts to the Layn river, to the fortress built on its bank.
New images surfaced in Trell’s mind: a row of catapults, lines of soldiers in brown armor, and a thick stone bridge. The Layn flowed under it, and its stones were slick with blood and viscera. It felt real, and Trell knew he had pulled yet another memory from the void.
“You’re right. I can almost see the bridge.” Trell remembered the ring of metal on metal, the shouts of soldiers fighting and dying. “The man who led Mynt. This ‘Leader of Armies’. What is his name?”
“Prince Beren. He is known to you?”
“I’m not sure.” Another image surfaced in Trell’s mind, a soldier in golden armor. He had a deep scar down the right side of his face and short black hair.
“Prince Beren is scarred.” Trell knew he was right about this, and the certainty thrilled him. “On the right side of his face.”
Halde showed no reaction, but Trell did not miss it when Kara looked down. One palm splayed as her fingers pressed the bed.
“I understand,” Trell said. “You think I attacked Layn Keep with that Tellvan army.”
“We don’t know that,” Kara said.
“But it makes sense.” Trell looked past Halde, at the thin door, and wondered if he could get past the man if he needed to. “Yet if I’m your enemy, why heal my wounds?”
“You are not our enemy.” Kara gripped his hand, and his eyes leapt to hers. She stared at him and did not look away.
“Trell,” Halde said, “Solyr takes no part in the wars of the provinces. You have no enemies here. The color of your skin does not necessarily mean anything.”
Kara squeezed his hand before letting go.
“A Lunyr apprentice can hire out in Mynt,” Halde continued, “and a Solyr apprentice can hire out in Tellvan. There are only so many teachers available. Border skirmishes will never change that.”
“This Prince. Beren.” Trell focused on what memories he did have. “I remember him. He may remember me. Would he grant me an audience?”
“The Leader of Armies has returned to Tarna.”
“How far is that?”
“Our capital city is just under a week’s ride, and I must be clear. If you did fight for Tellvan, and Prince Beren knows this, you will be taken as a prisoner of war.”
Trell imagined a prison made of gray bricks and rusting metal bars. He imagined dripping water and rats. He tasted stale bread and slept on hard stone and all of it, every indignity and slight, was preferable to the alternative. To a life without a past.
“Dangerous as it might be,” Trell said, “Prince Beren may be the only person who can tell me who I was. I will go to Tarna. I must have my life back.”
“Your determination is admirable. In exchange for your care here, I would ask you a favor.”
“Name it.”
“Kara is planning a journey to Tarna soon, where she will apply for the position of royal apprentice. I don’t want to send either of you on such a long journey by yourself, not in a time of open war. I
Halde crossed his arms and raised one hand to his chin, stroking his short black beard. “There was a recent skirmish at the Layn River ... a dust up of sorts between an invading force of Tellvan soldiers and the Mynt garrison at Layn Keep.”
Trell saw Kara grimace out of the corner of his eye. She hadn’t known. He wondered how far they were from Layn Keep.
“The Leader of Armies arrived almost a week ago with a large force of soldiers. Had he not done so, the Tellvan would have crushed Layn Keep. His cavalry and footmen routed the Tellvan, and many remained days after to repair the fortress.”
“You think I was involved in that battle.” Trell leaned forward and tried to picture it, him fighting Tellvan or Mynt soldiers. “You think that’s how I was injured.”
Both provinces were familiar to him, Mynt’s great mountains and Tellvan’s endless sands, and it seemed impossible that he could remember that while not remembering so much else. He forced his thoughts to the Layn river, to the fortress built on its bank.
New images surfaced in Trell’s mind: a row of catapults, lines of soldiers in brown armor, and a thick stone bridge. The Layn flowed under it, and its stones were slick with blood and viscera. It felt real, and Trell knew he had pulled yet another memory from the void.
“You’re right. I can almost see the bridge.” Trell remembered the ring of metal on metal, the shouts of soldiers fighting and dying. “The man who led Mynt. This ‘Leader of Armies’. What is his name?”
“Prince Beren. He is known to you?”
“I’m not sure.” Another image surfaced in Trell’s mind, a soldier in golden armor. He had a deep scar down the right side of his face and short black hair.
“Prince Beren is scarred.” Trell knew he was right about this, and the certainty thrilled him. “On the right side of his face.”
Halde showed no reaction, but Trell did not miss it when Kara looked down. One palm splayed as her fingers pressed the bed.
“I understand,” Trell said. “You think I attacked Layn Keep with that Tellvan army.”
“We don’t know that,” Kara said.
“But it makes sense.” Trell looked past Halde, at the thin door, and wondered if he could get past the man if he needed to. “Yet if I’m your enemy, why heal my wounds?”
“You are not our enemy.” Kara gripped his hand, and his eyes leapt to hers. She stared at him and did not look away.
“Trell,” Halde said, “Solyr takes no part in the wars of the provinces. You have no enemies here. The color of your skin does not necessarily mean anything.”
Kara squeezed his hand before letting go.
“A Lunyr apprentice can hire out in Mynt,” Halde continued, “and a Solyr apprentice can hire out in Tellvan. There are only so many teachers available. Border skirmishes will never change that.”
“This Prince. Beren.” Trell focused on what memories he did have. “I remember him. He may remember me. Would he grant me an audience?”
“The Leader of Armies has returned to Tarna.”
“How far is that?”
“Our capital city is just under a week’s ride, and I must be clear. If you did fight for Tellvan, and Prince Beren knows this, you will be taken as a prisoner of war.”
Trell imagined a prison made of gray bricks and rusting metal bars. He imagined dripping water and rats. He tasted stale bread and slept on hard stone and all of it, every indignity and slight, was preferable to the alternative. To a life without a past.
“Dangerous as it might be,” Trell said, “Prince Beren may be the only person who can tell me who I was. I will go to Tarna. I must have my life back.”
“Your determination is admirable. In exchange for your care here, I would ask you a favor.”
“Name it.”
“Kara is planning a journey to Tarna soon, where she will apply for the position of royal apprentice. I don’t want to send either of you on such a long journey by yourself, not in a time of open war. I
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