Laura S. Fox
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Hungry Heart - Book #3 - Ch. 23
🕑 Added 2022-05-01 18:00:07 +0000 UTCChapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen / Chapter Twenty / Chapter Twenty-One / Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three – Towers of Gold and Towers of Stone
Toru remained silent and didn’t move one muscle, while taking in Ewart Kona. The domestikos smiled, but it was not the assessing smile from before, but one full of warmth. He opened his arms wide. “I see that you are surprised I have noticed you. How could I not? The true king has finally set foot in Scercendusa.”
“True king?” Toru asked, forgetting himself for a moment. To cover his blunder, he narrowed his eyes and stared into Ewart Kona’s dark ones. “Can you really see me? It’s not possible. The ones with dark hearts cannot see me.”
The domestikos’ fond smile turned into an amused one, tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Then that must mean I’m not in possession of such a heart.”
Toru blinked a few times. He felt so silly for having snuck around, imagining that he was invisible to everyone, especially the domestikos. He moved to one side, only to see if Ewart Kona was capable of following him with his eyes, and not just trying to fool him. The domestikos continued to look at him, while his good-natured smile never left his face.
Was this the dangerous man he was supposed to eliminate if he stood between him and fulfilling his purpose? Could the Sakka be wrong? But how could they be? For millennia, the same thing had happened over and over. The domestikoi of the city were well aware that their kingdom was not to last.
And yet, this domestikos, this man who had to be hiding Hekastfet somewhere inside the cavernous belly of this grand building he called his palace, he appeared to have no trouble seeing him.
“Toru,” Ewart Kona said in a patient, paternal voice, “I have been waiting for you for a very long time.”
Toru bristled at those words. He didn’t like it when someone pretended to care for him, let alone a suspicious man like the domestikos who, for all he knew, committed atrocities from dawn till dusk without ever losing that pleasant smile on his face. “If you’ve been waiting for me for so long, how come you’ve never come to look for me?”
Ewart Kona chuckled and took a step toward him, without showing one sign of fear. “But I have been looking for you, my boy. I have been looking my entire life. Ever since the fall of Nelsikkar, every domestikos of Scercendusa has been searching for the one true king.”
“I’ve never heard of a Nelsikkar. It sounds like a made-up name. You’re lying,” Toru accused pointedly.
Ewart Kona’s expression turned into one of deep concern and sympathy. There was something fascinating in how he appeared to go from one human emotion to another, like they were all well-fitting clothes. Toru remained on guard. One impulse told him that he only had to take three steps to reach the domestikos, grab him by the throat, and force him to spill the truth about where he kept Hekastfet, the true idol he was worshipping, and another told him to hold back. If he killed Ewart Kona before finding out where Hekastfet was, the chances were that he might never find the evil determined to rule the world.
So, the clever part of him, the one that had grown ever since he had set foot in Whitekeep, forbade him from taking violent action against the domestikos, as good-natured as he appeared to be. No, Toru would be clever, too, and sneaky, and he might be able to convince the domestikos to take him to Hekastfet of his own accord. Varg, Duril, and Claw would be so proud of him. And he really didn’t want to kill this old man who appeared to behave more like a grandparent toward his people than a true ruler.
“I deeply apologize,” Ewart Kona said and pressed his palms together at chest level while tipping his head forward. “I should have realized that it was impossible for you to have ever heard of Nelsikkar. And it’s not a Nelsikkar,” he emphasized, “because that place is unique in the entire world. Was,” he added the last word after a short pause accompanied by a pained frown.
Toru felt his ears twitching. It was a bit silly, because he wasn’t even in his tiger shape. “What is Nelsikkar?” he asked.
“The place of your birth,” Ewart Kona said simply.
“Ha!” Toru crossed his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t born in such a place. I was born…” The words died on his lips. While he had been taken care of in that orphanage, that didn’t mean that he had been born there.
“Toru,” the domestikos said a bit more firmly this time, “there are many things you don’t know about your origins. And how could you? For so long, we’ve all feared that you were taken from us by a neglectful hand.”
Toru couldn’t make sense of half of what the domestikos was saying. “I grew up in an orphanage,” he said through his teeth.
Ewart Kona frowned again, and this time, Toru could read pity and renewed concern in his eyes. “That explains many things. Nelsikkar, Toru, is the realm ruled by the house of Olliandran. Was. I keep forgetting.” He made a small gesture with one hand, as if he was a tired old man, and too much was asked of him.
“I don’t think I’m one of those tigers,” Toru countered. “They--” He stopped himself in time. Why would he share his doubts about his predecessors with the ruler of Scercendusa? It had to be that warm smile that somehow even creased the folds of skin at the corners of the man’s eyes deeper each time he looked at Toru.
“You’ve come here, Toru,” Ewart Kona declared and opened his arms wide. “You are here to write history.”
“Does that mean you will show me where you keep Hekastfet so I can kill it?” Toru asked, his eyes wide. It looked like the domestikos knew everything.
A look of confusion spread on the domestikos’ face. “Hekastfet?” he asked slowly. “What do you mean by this name? Or who?”
Toru pursed his lips. His tongue was a bit too loose for what he needed to do here, in the heart of the city. “Stop lying,” he said petulantly. “You know what that is.”
Ewart Kona pressed his hands over his chest in an apologetic gesture. “Should I gather that those imps that keep on stealing wares and playing pranks on the city guards have already tried to draw you into their foolishness?”
Toru had an idea about who those imps had to be but held his mouth shut, at least this one time. “Nobody told me that,” he said quickly. “I came here because I have to do something.”
“Of course,” Ewart Kona agreed. “To take your throne, as promised.”
Toru pursed his lips hard. “What throne?”
Ewart Kona linked his hands together, hiding them in the folds of his long robe. “I will tell you a bit of history now, Toru, and I hope I can be brief enough so that you don’t become bored.” He waited for him to agree.
“Go ahead, then,” Toru said reluctantly. This wasn’t going according to plan at all. He hadn’t expected Ewart Kona to be this pleasant and understanding old man who seemed to know a lot more than even the Sakka knew.
“Nelsikkar fell to the conflict for power that erupted when some of your people, yes, Toru, your people, decided to mingle with the likes of those from the North.”
“What do you mean by that?” Toru squinted as something like an image flashed through his mind. Something white like pure snow, and a home with kindled fire under a huge stove. He frowned and chased that image away.
“Nelsikkar is where the Olliandran lived since the beginning of time. But someone, somehow, made the mistake of trusting those from the North.”
“What are those from the North?” Toru asked.
Ewart Kona sighed like there was so much being asked of him that he didn’t know how to handle. “An abomination.”
Toru grimaced. “Like trees that have mouths and claws?”
Ewart Kona quirked an eyebrow in bafflement. “No, no, just tigers that have lost their way and the shine of their purity.”
It all sounded like a tale so far, Toru decided. “Just tell me what you want to tell me already.”
“Very well.” The domestikos smiled his fond, trustworthy smile. “I promised, after all, that I wouldn’t wear you out with boring history. Nelsikkar, as your predecessors had always known it, is no more. There is nothing left but ashes and memories there. The Northerners started a war that resulted in there being no survivors. No, I am mistaken. There was one survivor. You.”
Toru huffed. “I told you. I don’t think I’m one of those tigers. But I must avenge the people who died at Whitekeep, and Varg’s pack, and Onyx’s mom and dad, and--”
Ewart Kona stopped him. “For a long time, we’d thought you were nothing but a myth, something that our yearning minds and souls decided to create for the sake of purpose. But, Toru, I see your mother’s eyes in yours.”
As much as he had promised himself not to believe whatever lies Ewart Kona planned on telling to him, despite his benevolent appearance, Toru couldn’t help asking in a small voice, “My mother?”
“Yes,” Ewart Kona said and nodded. “But I see that you cannot bring yourself to trust me. After all, that is very understandable. You’ve been blown about like a leaf torn by the wind for so long.”
Toru stared at the domestikos. Was it possible that the ruler of Scercendusa could read his mind?
“It is better that I show you,” Ewart Kona continued. “Now, please, follow me. And I assure you that this evil you are talking about is not here. If I could lead you to it so that you could fulfill your purpose, I wouldn’t hesitate to do so. After all, you are my true king.”
With those words, the domestikos turned and walked with purpose toward the door on the left. Toru debated for a moment whether it was, indeed, a good idea to follow this hard to fathom man. But, in the end, curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself matching Ewart Kona’s steps with his.
The door led to a long corridor lit by torches on both sides. Even though there were windows several feet apart from one another, they weren’t enough to let the daylight in.
“Our ancestors decided, for some reason, to build the palace quite high,” the domestikos commented as if he could, indeed, read what was on his mind. “It is troublesome, as petitioners always have such a hard time climbing up here. But it is tradition, and here, in Scercendusa, we value nothing more highly than the old customs that turned what was once a small village into the proud city we all know now. Therefore, having too many windows would be a real hazard. Harsh winds could end up toppling the towers and turning them to dust.”
Toru didn’t know what to do with an explanation like that. It could be true, for all he knew. With curious eyes, he took in his surroundings, while musing over the strangeness of everything that was happening here at the palace. Ewart Kona did not appear to be how the Sakka had described him, and Shearah’s words came to his mind. The young witch thought that the domestikos of Scercendusa was a complicated man, with hidden ambitions, but had she ever said that he was a bad man? Toru couldn’t recall anything like that as he forced the memories to come back to him. A part of him wanted to believe Ewart Kona because, if everything he said was true, it meant that Toru didn’t have to resort to bloodshed and destruction.
And if Hekastfet was hidden inside the palace, it could be it was doing so without the knowledge or agreement of the domestikos. Toru would find it, anyway, and maybe Ewart Kona could even help him in that quest as he seemed so keen on liking him, despite Toru’s having done nothing to earn that kind of sympathy from a man who ruled over a city with hundreds of thousands of souls.
With that decision in mind, he felt his chest getting lighter. Ewart Kona could see him, and he had tiger flowers in the water fountain he used to bless the people who sought his advice and guidance in life. Maybe he wasn’t a bad man. Maybe he was a good man.
However, as he remembered what Beanstalk and Midnight had told him about the history of the place, and the visions of what other tigers before him had done, his steps began to slow down.
Ewart Kona sensed his hesitation right away and turned toward him without stopping. “I will answer all your questions, Toru, to the best of my abilities. But now, please, come. After I show you your mother’s portrait, we will have dinner together. I can tell that you are famished.”
Toru sensed some of his earlier lightness of step returning with the promise of food. Didn’t they say that they had the most astonishing dishes in Scercendusa? Since Ewart Kona was the most influential person in the entire city, his dinners had to be fairytale worthy. Toru couldn’t wait to see what the domestikos would serve him.
Finally, they reached another hallway, a smaller one. Here, Toru noticed right away that the walls were adorned with paintings, some of them very old, by how weathered the frames looked and the chipped paint here and there. He paid them little attention, feeling slightly dizzy at the multitude of eyes staring at him from all those old depictions of people belonging to times long past.
“There she is,” Ewart Kona said with satisfaction as he stopped in front of a life-size painting representing a tall majestic woman dressed in a sumptuous orange dress with streaks of black.
Toru followed the domestikos’ example and stared at the painting.
“Her Noble Spirit, Raine of Olliandran,” the domestikos introduced the stranger on the wall.
Toru stared closely, trying to see if there were any reasons to consider that unknown woman his mother. Her hair was a fiery red, which surprised him. He would have thought that all tigershifters had golden hair, like his. But her eyes, he noticed, her eyes were burning gold, and Toru knew how he looked from the reflections he had caught in the water of rivers and lakes, and very rarely, the shiny objects called mirrors.
Indeed, the eyes staring back at him from the painting appeared familiar. He knew them, he had looked into them before, but only because he had been staring at himself. But that had to be only some uncanny resemblance, he thought.
It was hard to ignore how his heart throbbed with yearning at the sight of her, but Toru pushed back with all his strength. It had to be just his hope, his deeply hidden hope, that one day, he would know the ones who had decided to abandon him. The familiar hatred returned. He turned his back to the painting. “That’s not my mom,” he declared.
“Toru,” Ewart Kona said affectionately and touched his arm, “if she’s not, how do I know your name?”
Toru was slightly surprised at finding the domestikos standing so close to him. He was a tall, intimidating man through nothing but his stature, seeing how forthcoming and pleasant he aimed to be. Toru searched the man’s eyes for signs of deceit and found none. “What do you mean?” he mumbled.
“You see,” Ewart Kona continued in a sympathetic voice, “your mother chose your name. Although Nelsikkar burned to the ground, word of you reached us. And you are Raine’s son.”
The domestikos seemed quite adamant about that, so Toru decided not to contradict him too much for the moment. He shrugged. “I’m hungry,” he said.
Ewart Kona laughed and gestured for him to follow. “Then let’s not dally. We will have time to share old history later. Now, the true king deserves a true feast.”
“What do you mean by true king?” Toru asked. “Aren’t you the king of Scercendusa?”
“I’m not a king,” the domestikos protested, all good-naturedly. “Do you know what domestikos means in our old texts?”
“No,” Toru admitted.
“It means servant, and that is what I am. A servant to the city, waiting for the king. And that is you, Toru. Come now. On a full belly, maybe you will be keener to listen to me.”
Toru threw one last look at the portrait. Raine’s eyes looked back at him, and for a while, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was following him as he walked behind Ewart Kona.
***
Maybe Toru had no idea what the domestikos meant by true king, but he surely understood what true feast stood for. Never in his life had he ever tasted so many different dishes. And what an astonishing custom, he thought, as he took in the servants roaming around with increased wariness. Apparently, they liked to give you a limited time for enjoying your meal here, in Scercendusa.
Only he and Ewart Kona were seated at a long table, but after they took a few bites of their meal, a servant was quick to steal the plate and replace it with something new. Toru growled when one young maid tried to snatch a half-eaten mutton chop from him. She yelped and quickly bowed. The domestikos dismissed her with a flick of the wrist, and Toru finally managed to finish his mutton chop. From that moment on, the servants no longer grabbed the plates from his side of the table until he was finished with each course.
The room in which they dined was well-aired and the many candles standing inside candelabras attached to the walls compensated for the lack of natural light. Toru wasn’t entirely sure why they were having dinner, when it could be called a late lunch. The patch of sky he could see through a small open window was still clear and not yet tainted by dusk. In all truth, he didn’t quite know how far or close they were to evening.
He could play Ewart Kona’s game for a while, whatever it was. And by that, he meant that he only intended to wait until the night fell. After that, he would start roaming the hallways in search of the true purpose of his quest. Even after the domestikos had taken him to see that old portrait, he still didn’t understand all that talk about a true king and why he was supposed to be that.
Slowly, he was getting his fill, so he sighed contently while patting his belly with one hand. The domestikos eyed him with a smile from the other end of the table. “Should I gather that the meal was to your liking?”
“I’ve never seen so many different dishes,” Toru admitted with enthusiasm. If only his friends were there to taste them, too. The thought saddened him a little. On impulse, he almost opened his mouth to ask Ewart Kona to search for Duril, Varg, and Claw and bring them there, but the caution he had started to cultivate for a while now prevented him from doing so. What would Varg do if he were here with him? Probably, he would try to find out as many things as possible.
He pushed his plate away, and the domestikos nodded and stood. “Come with me, Toru. There are many other things I have to show you.”
The more the old man showed him around, the more tired he’d become, for sure. In the meantime, Toru was free to discover more about the domestikos’ game and would explore the palace later, when everyone was asleep.
He followed Ewart Kona to a large room, at the end of which a tall throne stood atop a dais. It reminded him of the throne from Vilemoor, but much larger. Something akin to an unpleasant frisson flashed over his skin for a moment. Toru examined his surroundings carefully. As much as the domestikos appeared to play the welcoming host, it didn’t mean that he should ignore any possible danger. Hekastfet, if the Sakka weren’t wrong, had to be present here, inside the castle, and that meant that it could be watching right now.
He raised his eyes and observed the heads of the colonnades. Mystical creatures like Toru had never seen before appeared to support the ceiling on their shoulders, a strenuous task if the grimaces on their faces meant anything.
“Since you weren’t raised at Nelsikkar,” the domestikos explained, “it is only natural that you are not at all familiar with your purpose.”
“My purpose is to rid the world of Hekastfet,” Toru said passionately, clenching his hands into fists.
“You’ve mentioned this name several times, but you still haven’t told me who this enemy of yours is,” Ewart Kona commented, his voice a tad disconcerted.
Toru found it hard to believe that the domestikos didn’t know about the evil lurking in the heart of the city. But, on the other hand, he sounded like he really had no idea about Hekastfet. Ewart Kona seemed to be a kind man, so there was a possibility that he either had been fooled by that evil entity, or he just didn’t know about it.
“It’s living here,” Toru said with conviction. “This is where it gets its power.”
Ewart Kona touched his elbow. “Without my knowledge? I like to believe that my tireless work of taking care of the city is not in vain.”
Toru turned the domestikos’ words over in his head. Was it possible that Ewart Kona was just another victim of the deceit the evil was capable of? But the Sakka couldn’t be so wrong, could they? They lived in darkness, waiting for the tiger, which meant that they couldn’t quite know what was happening above. As much as Toru wanted to believe his own justifications, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.
“Then show me your palace,” Toru said. “It won’t hesitate to attack me once it sees me.”
That earned him a startled look from his host. “Attack you? This is the safest place for you in all of Eawirith, Toru. Everybody here loves you.”
“I don’t know everybody here,” Toru pointed out. “I don’t know anybody.”
“Not yet,” Ewart Kona offered in an affectionate voice. He took Toru’s elbow and guided him toward the throne. “Once you do, you will know why you were meant to be the king. But now, let’s try this for size.”
Toru only understood what the domestikos meant by that when they reached the foot of the dais. Ewart Kona encouraged him with the same fond smile he appeared to have reserved for him, so he took the few steps up to the throne and stopped in front of it.
“Go ahead,” Ewart Kona insisted, “sit on your throne, my king.”
Toru scratched his head and pulled at his ear. At this point, he only seemed to be indulging an old man and his whims, so what was the harm in that? He sat on the large throne that appeared strangely comfortable for how hard the granite it was built from had to be. He placed his hands on the curved arms and looked ahead.
Ewart Kona seemed genuinely ecstatic. He clasped his hands together and his smile grew larger and fonder. “You were made for it, Toru.”
“I’m not sure,” Toru replied. He stood and walked down the steps to reach the domestikos. “And why do you keep saying that I’m the king? Why isn’t a human the king?”
“Because that is the tradition,” Ewart Kona explained. “Our history teaches us that for Scercendusa to become the greatest place in all Eawirith, a tiger must sit on its throne.”
“So, there were other tigers before me who sat on this throne?” Toru stared over his shoulder at the royal seat.
“Of course,” Ewart Kona replied with unhidden enthusiasm. “Scercendusa is ready to enter its golden age since you have arrived.”
Toru had no idea about what a golden age was and what the domestikos was going on and on about.
“It is prophesized in all the old texts,” Ewart Kona continued. “But I believe this has been enough excitement for one day. Shall I show you to your quarters?”
Toru was happy at the prospect. After all, he needed to be alone so that he could start roaming the palace. It was clear as day that Ewart Kona could see him, despite the disguise provided by the magical bath the Sakka had given him. Also, at the table, all the servants were well aware of his presence. He looked at his arm and was baffled to notice that the sheen of gold from before was gone. He frowned and tried to find an explanation that would make sense. The people coming to see the domestikos as petitioners hadn’t been aware of him, which meant that at some point, his disguise had worn off.
“This city waits for your wise guidance,” Ewart Kona said as he took Toru back to the main corridor. He stopped for a moment in front of one of the windows and beckoned for Toru to join him. “Do you see, Toru? The entirety of Scercendusa at your feet.”
He indulged the old man and looked through the window at the expanse of human hive. From up there, he could clearly see that tall towers jutted from the myriad of buildings here and there. Some were almost black and appeared to be cut from a hard stone, while others glinted golden in the setting sun. “Why are there so many towers?” he asked without thinking.
“Towers of gold and towers of stone,” Ewart Kona said with pride. “The pillars of our city. The golden towers are for the merchants that keep the flow of goods and trade moving. And the ones made of stone are for our workers, the ones who toil from dawn till dusk for the good of the city.”
“I don’t like merchants very much,” Toru said and then stopped for a moment. “I don’t mean that. I really hate them.”
Ewart Kona appeared to be taken aback by his sudden outburst. “Why would you hate merchants, my king?”
“They are evil. In Shroudharbor--” Toru stopped. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to talk so much.
“I’ve heard a most astonishing tale, indeed,” Ewart Kona said. “The house of merchants crumbled to the ground. That’s what I heard,” he added.
Toru threw the domestikos a look of utter disbelief. “How could you have heard of it? It’s such a long way from here to there.”
“And people travel everywhere, and they carry tales with them,” Ewart Kona assured him with a kind smile. “That was how I heard your name mentioned for the first time in many, many years.”
It all made sense, but as he remembered what it took for him and his friends to cross the merciless desert, Toru began feeling a bit doubtful. What kind of people undertook such perilous travels?
“Have there been people coming here across the desert?” he asked.
“Do you mean, the Great Barren? I don’t think so. The place is very dangerous nowadays. But there are other ways to reach Scercendusa from the other coast,” Ewart Kona explained.
That made sense. And people could also travel by sea, and it wasn’t like the Great Barren stretched over Eawirith north to south. Toru felt a bit foolish for assuming that crossing the desert was the only way to get to the heart of the continent.
“The merchants there were evil,” Toru said and crossed his arms over the chest. “They deserved what came to them.”
“Without a doubt,” Ewart Kona hurried to agree. “But the merchants here, Toru, they are a different breed. Once you get to know the bright minds of Scercendusa, your heart and mind will be a lot more at ease. I understand that you’ve gone through some amazing adventures so far. Would you mind indulging me?”
“I should rest,” Toru said. He couldn’t help the feeling that instead of his being the one to uncover the secrets the domestikos held, he was the one being searched for details that he wasn’t supposed to share in the first place.
“Of course. Do you happen to like reading, my king?” Ewart Kona asked.
Toru frowned. He had learned all the letters, but so far, as much as he desired to have such knowledge, he could barely decipher simple texts. “No. I prefer adventuring,” he offered a cutting reply.
Ewart Kona laughed. “I see. There is nothing wrong with that. And the eggheads here can surely use a change of pace.”
“There seems to be only you here,” Toru said. The hallway was deserted, as much of the palace seemed to be. The only other living beings he had seen since being discovered by the domestikos had been the servants serving dinner.
“Yes. It is my designated residence while I’m waiting for the king to arrive. But there are councils that I consult with regularly or whenever needed. The city is a lot larger than this place, my king.”
Toru pursed his lips. Ewart Kona shifted from gentle familiarity when he spoke his name to formal obedience, depending on what he intended to tell him. It felt like it wasn’t entirely sincere. “Please just call me by my name,” he insisted. “I’m no king.”
“Not yet. But it’s all right, it’s been a long day for you, I suppose. Let’s see you to your room. I hope everything will be to your liking.”
Toru followed the domestikos again. A shadow seemed to move across the hallway for a moment, and the same unpleasant shiver from before ran up and down his spine. He looked back but saw nothing. Still, his gut instinct was putting him on guard. He examined the back of the domestikos’ head as they walked across the hallway. Ewart Kona was surely a mysterious man. And Toru planned on finding out everything there was to know about completing his quest.
TBC
Comments
Laura S. Fox
He really should!
MM
Ohhhhhh Turo watch out!!
