In Darkened Dreams_6

Chapter Two

– Theran–

Theran was on his hands and knees planting another row of seeds when he saw them coming, Jamous Payne's hulking form stalking towards his house with Lorcan Wheeler and Aras Brai in tow. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind of what they could be coming for. Was it the disturbance they had caused yesterday?  Or could they have found out about Hannovan's dream, but how? He had not seen anyone about last night. His stomach was tying itself into knots as he stood up, determined to reach the house before they did. He raced towards the back of the house, only seeing Hannovan's form sitting atop the stump in the side yard at the last possible second, but he was too late, Jamous had already spotted him.


"Highwater!" Payne called out.

The name grated against his heart as he watched his brother turn toward the sound. The boy slipped off of the stump and walk towards the soldiers. Jamous took him roughly by the arm, jarring Theran out of his fearful trance. His legs sprang him forward instinctually toward the scene and the rest of his body had no choice but to follow.
"What are you doing?" he demanded to know in too strong of a tone.

"Inside!" Jamous ordered him and dragged Hannovan towards the house. The others followed and he had little option but to oblige his request as well.
Jamous Payne stormed into the house, startling his already fragile mother. She nearly stabbed herself with the needle she was threading as she sat at the kitchen table. Theran tried to soothe her while still fuming himself at the intrusion. The brutish soldier threw his brother into a chair opposite his mother. This hardly seemed to register with Hannovan though; he just sort of let the whole thing roll off of him. The other soldiers filed into the room, Lorcan hovering behind his leader. Aras was stand offish and stayed near the door, nervously tapping his foot against the floor. His green eyes looked at Theran somewhat apologetically.

"What is the meaning of this, Sir?" Theran asked, once the odd assortment of people had all forced themselves into their tiny kitchen.

"Lorcan!" Jamous said roughly, slapping the hunched soldier across the back and urging him forward.

"You two were out past curfew," Lorcan hissed, pointing his skeletal finger at both him and Hannovan.

"Theran?" his mother asked in a reprimanding tone.

Hannovan made no sound. "We were not out for very long," Theran said defensively, "It was wrong though and it will never happen again."

Jamous made an annoyed, guttural sound in the back of his throat. "Never mind that," he said, "Lorcan get on with it!"

Lorcan turned toward Hannovan who inexplicably picked up on the man's change in direction from what exactly, Theran could not say. He had always marveled at his brother's ability to use his other senses to compensate for his lack of sight.

"You had another dream," Lorcan rasped, "What was it of?"

"You were lurking behind us last night; I am certain you heard or else you would not be here in our kitchen," Hannovan said so unassumingly it almost did not sound as insulting as it was.

"Hann," he cautioned anyway.

"Best listen to your brother, boy," Jamous interjected, seemingly growing tired of the games. "I do not know how these dreams of yours work exactly but if you say that you saw the King die, then that is enough to concern me."

"The King?" his mother gasped.

"Quiet woman," Jamous cut her off, "What exactly did you see? When will it happen? Who is responsible? How does it happen?" Payne pounded his fists on the table with each request, staring at Hannovan intensely, for what purpose Theran was not sure.

"I cannot tell you any of these things," Hannovan replied, calmly. "All I saw was the torso of a man in a blue silk shirt clutching at a wound in his gut. I could feel that he was dying."

"Do not waste my time boy!" Jamous cautioned. "If that is all that you saw, how can you be sure it was the King at all?"

"I could feel that he was important," Hannovan started to say but Jamous interrupted him with a grunting sound that suggested he better get to the point quickly. "Last night I saw more of the picture. He was wearing a ring on his right hand that bore the symbol of the two-headed Nharyx. That is the personal seal of the King, is it not? No one else would wear a ring like that, right?"

Jamous pondered the question for a moment and then reluctantly agreed that this was true.

"My brother's dreams have been fuzzy as of late," Theran interjected, trying to explain further, "Not all of the image is visible, but it seems that with each dream, more of the puzzle pieces are falling into place."

Lorcan Wheeler shifted back and forth on his feet behind Jamous. "He should go with Aras," the man croaked hoarsely, "Dream more…fill in the picture."

"Yes," Jamous agreed. "You will go to Dunnath with Aras. Lord Jogan Ghent will know what to do with you and he will get a message to the King."

His mother who had been trying her best to stay silent after Jamous's scolding seemingly could not take it anymore. He could see the anger and worry boiling up within her stout frame until she could no longer contain it. Her emotions all came bursting out in a single sentiment. "Nooooo!" she cried, unable to express her feelings in any other way.

"My decision is final," Jamous stated firmly.

Theran was still trying to process this order, but he knew that Hannovan could not go alone. The request did not even seem to phase Hannovan though; he remained calm and still in his chair. Although, as independent minded as his younger brother was, he knew that he would not survive alone out there in the world outside of Dunhollow. He was not even sure he, himself, would make it out there.

"I will accompany him," Theran declared. "I will make sure he is safe, Mother. If that is alright with you sir?"

Jamous Payne sighed and threw his burly arms out as if to say he did not care either way. He simply turned and strode out of the kitchen toward the door, hauling Lorcan behind him. Aras Brai stayed behind, awkwardly still standing in the entryway of the kitchen. He had turned his head to watch his commanding officer leave the house and then he looked back at Theran who stood behind his mother, trying to comfort her as she sobbed uncontrollably. He did not know how she was going to survive while they were gone. They were her whole life, especially Hannovan.

The young soldier brushed a strand of his auburn hair out of his eyes and spoke for the first time. "This is a matter of extreme importance. Meet me in the market tomorrow, we will leave at first light."

Theran gave him a hesitant nod and watched the soldier leave the house to join the others, leaving them all alone sort out what had just happened. His mother still sobbed, burying her head in her hands and Hannovan sill sat there seemingly unaffected by the whole ordeal. He longed to know just what was going on his brother's mind, but all he could do is remain in silence with him. The only sound in the whole room seemed to be his mother's cries, sharp cacophonous things that prevented him from thinking clearly.



Theran was up long before the sun ever rose in the eastern sky, busying himself with the task of preparing for their journey to the Dunnath. The large southern city was likely two days ride from Dunhollow, though he had never made it himself. He packed his bag with clothes for both himself and Hannovan, two sleeping mats and as much food as they could spare, which was hardly enough for the trip. In the kitchen, as he packed, he watched his mother sleeping restlessly, still sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her arms and a puddle of tears soaking into the table's wooden surface.

Hannovan rose early as well. Theran wondered if he had been too fearful to sleep, afraid of what he might dream this time. In addition to his dream of the King, they had talked about his other dreams on their walk that night. He had tried to assure him that these dark dreams were not what he suspected them to be, but he could not be sure. Although dreaming of his own death, would certainly be enough to deter him from sleeping.

Before the two brothers left, Theran went to his mother and nudged her awake. She had no words for them, only more tears as she wrapped her plump arms around them, one arm each, pulling them in close. The two of them towered over her. Even at fifteen, Hannovan was over a head taller than her. They had gotten all of their height from their father. She would not willingly release them from her hold; Theran had to physically pry her arms off of them before they could freely move. He tried his best to reassure her that they would both be safe, but he was certain that no words could quell her worries. Ever since Hannovan had been born she had done nothing but worry and he suspected that would only grow worse with their leaving.

They were nearly late to meet Aras because it had taken them so long to actually leave the house. The market of Dunhollow was relatively quite at this hour, though there were a few stands set up. He noticed in particular, or rather he was noticed by Kira Bordel who stood at her family's stand, trying to sell baskets to any passerby.  When she saw him, she took a small break and wandered over to where they were preparing to leave. Aras had come with two horses and they were busy getting them saddled and ready for the ride.

"Where are you off to?" she asked sweetly.

He looked to Aras for permission to talk of their purpose, but the soldier did not give any indication. "To Dunnath," he answered simply.

"Oh?" she said. "When will you return?"

"I do not know," he replied truthfully.

"Oh," she said again, solemnly this time.

Kira Bordel was a pleasant girl. They had grown up together, her only one year younger than him. People had always assumed that they would marry when they were of age; that they would settle down and start a family, but that had not been the case. Theran suspected that Kira expected him to propose when she turned sixteen but it had been over a year since then and he had continually failed to do so. The idea of marriage was not the worst thing in the world, but it had never appealed to him. He did not want to settle down with some girl and be stuck in Dunhollow the rest of his life. Whatever the circumstances of this journey to Dunnath, he was actually thrilled with the prospect of getting out the village, of seeing at least some small part of the world.

Theran said an awkward good bye to Kira as he climbed up on one of the horses, pulling Hannovan up behind him. There was no way the boy could ride by himself, despite his protests. Aras swung his leg over the back of his own horse, hoisting himself into the saddle, and motioned for Theran to follow him. Their small party left the market and set out along the riverbank toward the bridge that crossed the Dunnan River a mile or so down. He felt like the shackles of his imprisonment in Dunhollow were falling off of him as he rode; he could taste the freedom in the spring air. He wondered if this was what Hannovan felt like when he went on his night walks around the village. If it was, he vowed he would not try to stop him anymore.