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Harmonious Hearts 2017 Page 7
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Page 7
Well, he had wanted answers, Honor acknowledged to himself. And with this, things were beginning to make a lot of sense. Unfortunate, unanticipated sense.
THEIR LITTLE group tromped off to their hidden camp at the edge of the village where they could enjoy what meager provisions Honor had found without risking discovery. The thief, who the children called their Guardian, and Dian for short, made a little fire, and the kids at least seemed appreciative of what he’d brought, eating almost reverently but as ravenously as was to be expected. Stomach as full as possible for the moment, and under the fondly watchful eye of their leader, they dropped into sleep, their faces looking to Honor so young, sweet, and vulnerable. It made him shake his head to think that they hovered at the edge of starvation. He didn’t have long to brood, however, before Dian’s quiet voice brought him back.
“They haven’t eaten so well in a while. Thank you.”
Honor shook his head. If he had more to give, or if he had known there was more than just Dian to feed, he would have tried to bring more. “What’s with all these kids, anyway? I thought you said you had nothing left to lose.”
“Well, that was true, I guess. And honestly, at first I didn’t want them. It just happened. They saw me, older and seemingly fearless, and decided I’d make a good leader. But having, as you said, just lost everything, I didn’t want to sign on for more ties that could just be ripped away later on. I didn’t want the responsibility for all these fragile young lives—I could barely keep myself going as it was. But in the end, they wore me down with little favors here and there until I was effectively caught, until duty and compassion, even affection, finally overrode my selfish desire to protect my heart from shattering again. They give me purpose, you know? Make me feel alive again, like I have to go on for them. I’ve got a bit of hope, something tying me to this world now, rather than a desire to leave it. I’ll do what I can to keep them safe, fed, and happy, risking myself if I must, but I’d rather stay so I can continue to provide for them.”
“And who could say no to those faces?” Honor added, smiling as he glanced at the sleeping young ones.
Rather than agreeing, Dian only laughed. It was a sound without humor, hollow and unhappy. “Dozens of people do every day. These are the kids that people pass in the streets, each time averting their eyes and closing their ears to their cries, as if that will make it all go away. Well, it won’t.” His voice was rough, and he turned away to stoke the fire.
“Dian,” Honor said, concerned. The other boy brought one hand up to fling a pebble far into the trees, and Honor lifted his hand to cover the one that was still braced beside him. The boy did not move away, so Honor spoke, leaving his hand where it was. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean….” He trailed off, unsure how to finish and deeply regretting his careless words.
“I know,” Dian said, sounding calmer. “I’m sorry too—that they have to go through that.”
Honor didn’t know what else to say to comfort him, or if there were even any words with that kind of healing power, so he went with his instinct and laced their fingers together. Dian held on and let out a forceful sigh, as Honor contemplated just how something so wrong and something so right could exist in the same moment.
HONOR CONTINUED to supply Dian and the others with whatever food he could sneak, and while there were no signs of suspicion, he let Dian take the offerings. They made little feasts out of the scraps, and Dian and Honor would talk after the younger ones fell asleep. Dian was easy to talk to, and for the first time Honor found himself admitting that there were things he would change about life in the temple. No one had time to laugh with him there. He couldn’t ask for anything more than what he had without feeling ungrateful—he owed them his life, and he could never forget that. But as he glimpsed the life Dian had with his adopted siblings, he found himself wanting more. Wanting to truly be part of a family for more than just a few stolen hours in the darkness. Tired as he was after these visits, they were what got him through the long hours of chores and solitude, and Honor was glad to help with something concrete as his duties to the divine began to seem increasingly abstract. So when, days later, he detected a new restless unhappiness in the citizens he passed in the market, worry churned in his stomach. Even the priests seemed distant, edgy, and distracted.
Honor found Ren behind the temple. “What happened?” he asked. “What has everyone so upset?”
“A fire last night. Ruined the harvest. Some are calling it punishment.”
He gave a shrug, the motion drawing Honor’s attention to a strip of cloth wrapping one of Ren’s hands. “Did someone hurt you?” he asked, brow furrowing as he reached toward the injured hand.
Ren stepped out of reach, then waved away Honor’s concern. “Never mind that, it’s nothing. As I was saying, people are starting to doubt the story now.” He paused. “Well, if I’m perfectly honest I might have helped them a little with considering a less divine explanation for the vanishing offerings. That way they’ll be ready when we deliver the thief to them. They’ll probably be quite grateful, actually.”
Had Honor really thought he could go through with this plan to sentence another if it meant saving himself? Maybe once, when he had believed the thief deserved it. Now he didn’t know what to believe. As Ren continued to speculate on how they would be rewarded for catching the thief, Honor mumbled an excuse and let his legs carry him back to the temple. Out of habit, he used one of his shortcuts to get to his room, needing solitude to process his next move. He was not prepared to see the door ajar, but, numb and distracted as he was, the implication didn’t register until he stepped in to find the contents of his life overturned.
Everywhere he looked there were signs of invasion. His drawers emptied onto the floor. Papers on his desk torn and smudged, jumbled out of their neat stacks. His sheets torn off the bed into a wad, his pillow sliced open. His books… his precious books thrown haphazardly, lying open on the floor. Spines cracked, pages bent and torn. He catalogued each image as a wave of sickness fought to breach the numbness. Someone had been in here, looking for something. Someone had suspected him. Honor’s eyes burned at the thought, but he forced himself to breathe. To think. He could not stay here. Not anymore. He surveyed the wreckage of his former life, a glimmer catching his eye as he found the pendant that had been the only token from his lost parents. It was the only thing here that really belonged to him. Everything else was the temple’s, and men of faith did not have possessions. He grasped the necklace, now dented, as if the intruder had stepped on it during his search, before looping the chain around his neck and slipping out through the window. He didn’t look back.
WHEN HE arrived at the camp, Dian greeted him, seeming too excited to notice Honor’s subdued mood. He beckoned him toward the fire, saying “I wanted to thank you for this.” Honor assumed he meant the provisions and company until he noticed the cloth bag at his friend’s feet.
The bag was full of angular shapes that clanked together when Dian touched it, the sound ringing. He opened the bag, and Honor recognized the plates, candleholders, and other ceremonial artifacts. All made of precious metals. All sacred. He gasped.
“What’s this? You took it?” he asked sharply. After what he’d said would happen to him, after what he’d given them, they endangered him like this? Was this what explained the state of his room?
Dian frowned. “No. We thought it was from you.”
“No… this is terrible. I need to take it back.” Honor’s thoughts raced. Could he still fix this?
A grimace of discomfort twisted Dian’s face. “Well… some of the others have already gone to the market for food.”
“Oh dear.” If anyone recognized pieces from his temple, those children wouldn’t be returning. His anger for himself was quickly overwhelmed by fear for his friends. Still, he couldn’t process how this had happened.
“So you really didn’t give us the gold?” Dian confirmed.
“No. It’s too dangerous. Things like this will be mi
ssed. It was different when it was just food,” Honor said miserably.
“That’s why we only ever took food before. It was all we really needed, and it was less likely to get us in trouble.”
Honor’s head snapped up to look at him. “You’ve only ever taken food before?”
“Yes.”
Honor believed him. But what did that mean for Ren’s story? “Interesting.”
“I should have known better than to trust that boy, but when he said it was from you, I wanted to believe you had a plan. And how else would he know where we camped if he wasn’t with you?”
Honor could guess who “that boy” would turn out to be and felt anger flood back into him. “I have a theory about what happened. For now just be careful and try to get everyone together. No more going out after they return from market, and you might want to prepare for a quick departure, just in case.”
He hoped Dian wouldn’t resent his instructions, but he needn’t have worried. Gratitude softened Dian’s face as he nodded. “Understood. Thank you again for your help.”
ON HIS way back toward the temple, Honor found Ren leaning against a shady wall near the marketplace. He smiled and looked altogether very pleased with himself. “I’ve taken care of it. We’ll want for nothing now.” His eyes closed as his lips curled with triumph.
Honor’s voice came out hard between his teeth. “Ren.” His eyes opened. “What have you done?” Honor asked, though he thought he knew. He needed Ren to admit it.
At his tone, Ren had the grace to look a little worried. Good. He licked his lips. “I… borrowed some things from the temple.”
Stole, he meant. Honor started to walk away in disgust, but Ren grabbed his arm.
“Look, I did it for us,” he said. “So we can be free to live however we want to.”
“At what cost?”
Ren frowned. “I don’t understand. This was the plan all along. This is what we wanted. Your chance to keep things from changing.”
“But things have changed. I understand them. And they don’t deserve this.”
Ren’s eyes narrowed as he understood what Honor meant. “They’re thieves!”
“They weren’t hurting anyone.”
“They hurt me!”
“Not intentionally. They only ever took food. Didn’t you say the temple dismissed you after gold went missing?”
Ren’s face went red, and he sputtered, “They told you that? Of course they would deny it. How can you believe them? You’ve only known them a few days!”
“And I haven’t really known you much longer. By the way, how’s your burnt hand?”
Ren answered automatically “It’ll be fine” before realizing what he had just admitted. His eyes widened as Honor stared steadily into them. Ren’s mouth opened but no words emerged.
In the silence that followed, Honor heard the sound of heavy footfalls and the metallic crash of armor. Ren smoothly slithered out of sight behind a corner, remaining hidden to watch as soldiers spilled into the market. They appeared to be searching for something, and only when one stopped by a nearby fruit stand did Honor realize what was happening. The soldier indicated a golden tray displaying figs. The vendor held out a hand level with her chest as if indicating a height. Even without hearing what they said, Honor could put the clues together. They were searching for whoever had taken gold from the temples, and all signs would lead to Dian’s little family.
Ren seemed to have figured it out, too, if his hissed “Excellent” meant what Honor assumed. Yes, this was all according to Ren’s plan. But Honor could not let this happen. Time was precious and, without another word, he turned to go warn his friends.
Before he could get far, though, a shout caused Honor to glance behind him. Two guards were headed toward Ren. His eyes darted left and right, but there was no way to avoid the confrontation. Honor stepped around a corner, where he would be concealed from sight but able to hear and observe. The guards stopped with their profiles facing Honor, closing in on Ren. “Where did you get that?” one demanded.
“I—I don’t—” All of Ren’s smooth-talking skills seemed to evaporate as he stared up at the huge men, then at the spears they held in their right hands.
“We saw gold in your hand. Where did you get it?” the larger of the two repeated sharply.
“Hold on,” his partner said, resting a hand on the first guard’s arm. “I think I know this boy.” He turned to Ren, his expression not unfriendly. “My sister lives in the next village. You belong to their temple, right?” His brow furrowed as a thought intruded. “But what are you doing here?”
“I think I can answer that,” replied the larger guard. “I heard they threw out their temple boy, Temperance.” Ren flinched at the sound of his name. The guard’s stare was unwavering as he paused significantly. “For stealing their gold.”
The smaller guard gasped. “Is that your name? Temperance? Was it you?” He squinted at Ren as if the answer was written somewhere on him. “Oh! What happened to your hand?”
As Ren mutely hid the wrapped hand behind his back, the larger guard gave Ren a speculative look. “You know, one of the farmers claimed he glimpsed someone lurking around before the fire. I wonder if you’ll match his description.” Ren remained silent, but the wildness in his eyes, the look of a desperate, cornered animal, seemed enough confirmation for the larger guard. As he subdued Ren and began to tug him away, Honor leaned against the wall a moment, taking steadying breaths, before he remembered the danger had not entirely passed and set off toward Dian’s camp, Ren’s pleas ringing in his ears long after he was out of earshot.
LUCKILY, THE children had left the market before the search party arrived, and Dian had nearly finished getting the camp ready to leave by the time Honor returned. “You must disappear,” he panted. “The soldiers are looking for the gold they believe you took. I’m so sorry.”
Dian nodded, unsurprised. “You heard him,” he said to the rest. “Bring only what is necessary.” Honor noticed the bag of gold lying abandoned in a cleared patch of grass. Following his gaze, Dian shook his head. “Even if it weren’t stolen, it’s too heavy and noisy to bring. We’ll have to manage without. Begging, hunting, gathering—it’s nothing new. I think we’ll avoid the temples, though,” he added with a hint of a smile. Honor’s chest squeezed. He hated that their lives here had been ruined, that they would be forced to leave. That he would so soon have to lose the first true friends he had made.
The thought of watching them walk away and returning to work in the temple as if nothing had happened seemed impossible. The world didn’t even look the same to him as it had a couple of weeks ago. Even if they failed to notice the times he disappeared, surely the priests would see that he had changed? And that was if he ignored the betrayal of them riffling through his room. “I can never go back after this,” he said numbly.
Dian came closer, guiding him a little away from the others. “You weren’t happy there. Did you really want to stay?” he said quietly.
It was like a dam burst within Honor, and all the confusion of the past days rushed out of his mouth. “It’s the only home I’ve ever known! And of course I was happy there. Before you and Ren came and complicated everything for me, with your sad stories and sticky fingers. I could have lived there forever and at least been content, if you both hadn’t given them reasons to suspect me. If you hadn’t shown me what I was missing! Even if it wasn’t perfect, it was safe. They would have kept me all my life. And now he’s ruined it. You all have ruined everything. I can’t go home. I certainly can’t go to my parents. I have lost everything.”
“Not everything,” Dian said quietly. “You have us.”
“I didn’t ask for this.” Honor resisted the comfort Dian offered, but as the air carried only the sound of his own quick breaths and the distant noises of the children, his anger cleared. He wasn’t really mad at Dian and the children. Ren hadn’t asked to be thrown out of his home. Dian hadn’t asked to be responsible for a handful of starving
children. Honor hadn’t asked to be dumped on the doorstep. They could all only keep moving forward. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me,” he murmured.
Dian shrugged but didn’t seem upset. “I meant it,” he said instead. “You have a place with us. I can’t say it’ll be easy, but we can all start over someplace new. Maybe you can find a new apprenticeship somewhere. And besides,” he added with a small smile, “the kids have grown attached. They’ll miss you.”
Honor laughed. The kids, indeed. “Isn’t it dangerous?” he asked.
“What’s life without a little danger to make you feel alive?” At Honor’s expression, he continued. “If you’re worried, cut your hair, change your clothes, rub some dirt on your face. But I don’t think you need to be very concerned. Most of the time people don’t look at us closely enough to see if they recognize us. They’d rather pretend we don’t exist.”
Though the words were probably meant to be reassuring, they sent a pang through Honor for everything his young friends had been through. “I suppose you would know.”
Dian grinned. “It’ll be an adventure. Come with us.” His eyes dared Honor to accept as he stretched out a hand, and Honor recalled the warmth of their linked fingers as they watched the younger kids sleep. No one else made him feel so warm.
At that moment, Honor understood what Dian had meant—he was caught too, and not just by the little ones. Honor wanted to take care of them—all of them. He wanted to fix the world so they could always be happy and well, though he knew that was probably impossible. But I could try, he thought, looking down at the offered hand. I could spend my lifetime trying.
He’d had a place at the temple his whole life, but he couldn’t say he was irreplaceable to them. Ren’s situation had reminded him of that fact. So had the realization that he hadn’t fully earned their trust, based on the state of his room. The men who had raised him might worry if he disappeared, but they would likely have no trouble finding another temple boy. This offer was different. It was just for him. Not only did they want him with them, Honor decided they needed him. Before they’d met, sooner or later, Dian would have been caught stealing from a temple, and where would that leave the little ones? They could hardly manage on their own—some might not make it. No, Honor couldn’t just stand by idly when he knew these kids could use his help. And more and more as time passed, he had realized how much he would miss them if they parted. He’d seen too much of the harshness and beauty of life outside to shut himself back into serving the temple again. And where else did he have to go? But no, it was more than that. He had made his choice. Honor was as caught as the thief was, now. There was no denying it. And at the moment, Honor didn’t feel sad or afraid, like Dian said he had. He felt only… warm. He might have lost one family, but he had a new one now—a new home.