The Book of Terrus: The Wise and Powerful

Chapter 9 - Devoured

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The squeaking of floorboards outside her door woke Lhara. It was still early; sunlight had yet to reach beyond the window sills. For Marden to be up early wasn't unusual. The effort being put into silence in the main room told Lhara that it wasn't Marden up and about though. Yesterday came flooding back to her sleep-clouded mind, and she was out of bed in a heartbeat. Not even bothering to snatch her shawl from the bedpost, Lhara dashed barefoot after her brother.

"Tarun!"

He stopped halfway to door, his back to Lhara. Tarun wore his sturdiest clothing, pack in hand. How he had managed to leave their room without waking Marden, Lhara couldn't guess. The hunch of his shoulders told her straight off that he hadn't meant to be caught.

"So that's it then...you're just going to go off with the Factionists without a word?" Hurt bled into Lhara's voice even as she tried to tamp it down.

Slowly Tarun half-turned to look over his shoulder. "I left a note."

"A note," she gaped at his back. "You think that a note is even close to good enough? You could get yourself killed out there, with them. Tarun, the Factionists are going to make war on the capital!"

"I'm not going off to war! You don't think I'm that thick, do you?"

Now Tarun finally did turn around to face her. He had shaved his chin and cheeks that morning, Lhara noted with surprise. Marden and the other men would give him hell for that for sure.

"Then where are you going?" Lhara asked, her fingernails digging into the freckled creases of her elbows.

"To Amenthere."

"So you are leaving then!"

"Yes, but it's not what you think."

Marden's baritone interrupted them from the brothers' bedroom doorway. "Then just what is it, hmm? Because I've read your note, and it doesn't say any different." Marden waved an open bit of parchment at them, his heavy brows pursed together angrily. "Some farewell, little brother."

Tarun's grip on his pack strap tightened, whitening his knuckles. He made no move away from the door.

"I didn't want to say it...not even in writing, because then it sounds even less honorable than it does in my head."

"Makes what sound less honorable?" Lhara was a few words away from running up to Tarun, seizing him by the jacket and shaking him senseless.

Tarun pursed his lips into a flat, tight line. "I'm leaving with the Factionists, but I'm not going to war with them." When Marden and Lhara just stared at him, he elaborated. "They said they're going past the Teeth, into West Goran. This is my chance to get across the mountains. I figure they can get me to Amenthere. From there I can break off and apply to The Academy."

"So you're going to use them to get you where you want to be, and then you're going to leave them." Marden did not sound impressed.

"Yes, I am."

"You're right," said Marden. "That sounds even less honorable than I reckon you thought it would."

"I know how it sounds!" Tarun retorted. Then his bristling lessened a small measure. "I'll pull my weight and not drag them down, for what it's worth. I'm just not buying what they're selling, and traveling across the mountains alone is dangerous. Trying to find another group to travel to the capital with might take years, now that the tribute caravans have stopped."