The Story Again

Sjean’s cold eyes narrowed slightly as he returned Joia’s gaze, and the expression on his face became storm clouds of barely repressed fury. She had taken the bite out of what he had planned to be a cruel shock to her. His anger at having this small pleasure denied him made Sjean’s jaw clench. He had wanted to deliver the blow himself, and had long been anticipating watching the horror grow on Joia’s face as the truth sank in. Now it was apparent that someone had beat him to the punch, and only the control Sjean had learned as a Septain kept him from giving both voice and form to his rage. His Sept training and discipline took over however and Sjean moved on, preparing to carry out the next step of his plan. Discovering who had robbed him of his pleasure would have to be put aside until later.

“So, daughter, at last we come face to face in the full light of day. Are you pleased with the look of your devoted father?”

Joia said nothing, but continued to look at Sjean with a level gaze, her face perfectly composed and her manner calm and patient. Even with her travel stained, torn dress and her subordinate position kneeling on the ground, she managed to somehow appear proud and reserved. This man attempting to stare her down was her father. Candi would not, could not, give her incorrect information. Even now the last residuals of the images Candi had managed to convey to her before being shielded were still unfolding in Joia’s mind and filling in some details. She hoped it would be enough. By the blood of the Crone, it would have to be enough.

“Nothing to say to your father after all these years, darling daughter?” Joia did not have to look up to see the sneer on Sjean’s face to know it was there. “Not a welcome or embrace? I fear that leaving you to your mother and that hag all these years has left your deportment more than a little sub-standard. Don’t worry, Shayene, I will take a personal interest in your education from this point forward. You can depend on your father.”

Joia neither moved nor blinked. Her exterior was perfectly calm. Inside, however, her stomach felt like a cannonball and her mind raced more quickly than horses and rabbits on Game Day. “There is a way out of this”, she thought. “There may well be many paths I can take to safety if I can just keep my wits about me and remain open. Candi is here, and she will help me.”

As if he read her mind, Sjean scowled at Joia then barked off his commands in quick succession. “Take my daughter to the bathing tents and have her cleaned up. Prepare to strike camp, we move at sundown. And, oh yes, the wolf.” His eyes rested on Candi momentarily before turning back to Joia. Depravity and evil seemed to shoot forth from his black eyes, wrapping slender tendrils around her heart. Joia suppressed a shudder – just barely. “Dispose of the wolf.”

Lhogeen could not stifle a gasp. To kill one of the Lukos was to risk bringing a fate far worse than death down on all their heads. Even Sjean was not higher than the gods, surely he must realize that! She looked at his face for some sign that he would change his mind knowing, even as she did, that he would not. Her knees felt like jelly as she curtsied her acquiescence and motioned the Protectorate guards to bring Joia along.

The Captain took two steps toward Sjean and saluted in the customary manner, his hands in fists held palm down crossed left wrist over right, arms then snapped smartly down towards the earth mother.

“Septain, we will not harm the wolf.”

“Then you will die, Captain. You will all die like the sons of piss-ants that you are.” Sjean laughed and the sound of his laughter seemed to grow until it bounced off the surrounding hills; echoing, reverberating and filling every corner, crevice and ear. Abruptly the laughter stop and a whisper came from Sjean’s lips, so low that none but Joia heard it. “The piper has been paid and now you will all dance.”