Children of Rhatlan

By Jonathan Fesmire

Children of Rhatlan tells the tale of a brother and sister sharing one place in the world, so only one may be present at a time. They are part of a rare group called "duals." The religious consider them children of the dark god, Rhatlan.

Though hated and feared, Garum and Vayin decide to see what the world has to offer. Enter a dark wizard who wants to extend his own life and cure his insanity by taking over one of their bodies, and our heroes find themselves in danger beyond what they would have ever expected.

Anyone who feels persecuted, picked on, bullied, or generally different could benefit by living through Garum and Vayin's bravery. This coming of age tale, set in a world of magic and wizard schools, shows that indeed, it does get better.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jonathan Fesmire
• Release date: Aug 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393300854

Book preview

PROLOGUE:

A REVELATION

THE WIZARD AWOKE TO the voices of those he had killed. He sat abruptly and inhaled the robust scent of garlic, which filled the room. Clearly, its magic, meant to quiet his tormentors, had failed.

He ran metal-cold fingers along his shaven face and through his dark hair, then crossed to the hearth, lifted the bellows, and stoked the fire. The embers glowed and dimmed with each puff until a few half-burned sticks relit. After a moment, he tossed on more twigs and a thin log.

Do you think that warmth will quiet us? asked the dark sorceress.

The wizard shook his head. No, but something has to.

Three voices laughed as one in his mind: the sorceress, the thief, and the boy.

Duals can handle another voice in their minds, so why can't I? The hair tingled along his arms. He looked toward the open shutters, eyes widening as a new idea formed. No light came through the horn window panes. Duals! Curse of Rhatlan, I believe they can handle it because they were born joined. They were made that way. What if I were a dual?

You're a fool! the sorceress cried. The wizard cringed; he had neglected to hide his thoughts. Now, he made the effort.

She'll know soon enough. I can't hide everything from them. He rubbed his forehead. I can't become a dual, but I could join with one, send my mind, all these minds, into one. Gods, I believe this will work!

CHAPTER 1:

IMPULSE TO STEAL

GARUM SHIFTED THE BARREL into the semicircle for Farmer Biruak, but stole another glance toward a side street, just outside the market square. Though only morning, an audience had grown around the distant performer. Garum watched the red and blue bean bags bouncing above the heads of the crowd, spinning as they circled. The juggler's bald head also bobbed into view from time to time.

I'd love to go see that, Vayin, Garum's sister, thought to him.

Garum, get your eyes off the crowd. Biruak snapped his fingers in the young man's face, startling him. What are you doing? Looking for pretty girls?

Despite the farmer's stern gaze, Garum laughed. No. Not that there aren't pretty women around. I was watching the juggler. Sorry about that.

Right. The sooner you finish your task, the sooner you can leave.

These are the times I wish I could leave you, Vayin thought.

Which was impossible, of course. The twins were duals. For one to be present, the other had to vanish. They had two bodies but shared one life, one place in the world. Still, the idea of her wanting to leave sent a ripple of anxiety through Garum, and fear that they might argue later.

You don't mean that, he thought back. I hope the juggler's still here when we're done.

So do I.

He gazed for a long moment at the spots of color, hoping it would be enough to satisfy his twin.

Come along now. Biruak spoke more harshly than before. You'll never earn your pay at this rate. Gods, market's already starting and we've barely set up!

The dual nodded. Wary of another rebuke, he went to the cart and eased down the next barrel. He had seen several farmers nearby who already displayed their produce. Selling different fruits and herbs than Biruak, they offered the old farmer little competition. One woman in a chestnut dress sold carrots and stalks of rhubarb in a dozen barrels. With her were nine busy children. In Garum's family, he and Vayin were the only offspring, and as duals, they did the work of one.

Even with Garum's effort to ignore the crowd, unloading the cart took nearly half an hour. About him, children, parents, and grandparents came by the dozens to Oledon's city square. The buildings, mostly brick with wooden frames, but some made entirely of wood, rose about the patrons like yellowish sentinels.

Garum and Vayin longed for a chance to enjoy the city. Before leaving home, they had devised a plan, which, unfortunately, depended on Biruak paying enough for them to stay at an inn.

We have to be so careful, Vayin thought.

That's what Mam would tell us, responded Garum. But no one will find out we're duals. Sometimes I think she made up that story about the dual she saw hanged just to keep us on the farm forever. It will be dangerous only if we're stupid.

The townsmen of Banaib, including Biruak, believed that Vayin was Garum's cousin, simply a lovely young woman from Oledon. Coddy, their father, had come up with the pretense for Vayin's sake. Now and then, cousin Vayin visited, worked, and made friends, her and Garum's duality kept secret.

Garum, where should we switch?

We'll figure that out.

This will be delightful, and when we arrive home just after noon tomorrow, you can still help Da.

At that, Garum frowned. Still, he liked the idea of seeing the city. Biruak's grown children often talked about it when they visited Banaib.

When only one barrel remained upon the cart's wooden planks, Biruak nodded toward it. You can go. I'll get that one. He arched his back, letting out a series of crackles.

What?

Oh, Garum, you obviously have your mind on seeing that ridiculous man over there. Go ahead. Meet me back here by sundown.

Vayin will return sooner than that, Garum thought.

Here's your money. Biruak opened the long pouch tied to his girdle and removed two royals.

Garum took the silver coins in mild disappointment. This won't get us into a nice inn!

Then we'll settle for a small room and a small dinner, Vayin replied. Bir thinks you're coming back. But what does it matter? We're staying for only one night.

Splitting a meal with his sister would keep them both hungry, but he could handle that. Still, from one of Biruak's barrels, he grabbed two hard, red apples. The farmer always let him take fruit in addition to his pay. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, the dual departed.

Garum walked through the cobbled square, heading for the shaded side of the street. Laboring in the sun had left him hot and sweaty. Early spring in this middle region of Delaryan, away from the coast, brought the most unpredictable weather. Some days chill rain soaked everything, and on others the sun beat down with summer intensity. Within a quarter mile, the crowd thinned.

The dual gazed down a side street so narrow that no one had bothered to pave it. Here, do you think?

Yes, Vayin responded after a moment of silence. I think so.

Finishing the last bite of his apple, Garum entered the alley, walked half way down, and knelt. Now, over ten yards separated him from the streets on either side. He leaned against the brick wall. After several progressively slower breaths, he dropped the pack from his shoulder, dropped in Vayin's fruit, and allowed himself to relax. He smelled the dirt's fertile scent, but only spiky weeds grew from it.

Look around, Vayin thought.

Of course. Garum glanced from one end of the alley to the other. He saw people pass–an elderly man with three children, a middle-aged woman in russet wizard's robes–but no one looked at him. Still, he waited.

Do it fast! Squatting here won't help. If you don't hurry, someone will see you, ask what you're doing, and then we'll have lost our chance.

Garum closed his eyes and willed the stiffness in his muscles to fade, then felt himself fall back with a loss of equilibrium like one might experience floating in a lake. After a quick, splashing jolt, the feeling of movement stopped.

Vayin opened her eyes and looked down. Through them, Garum saw her body in his clothing. They had switched, as they had done every day of their lives, often in their sleep. Sitting in his exact position, Vayin had replaced Garum.

Shirt's too tight, Vayin said, pulling at the brown serge tunic clinging tightly to her hips, and Garum imagined how convenient it would be to switch with their clothes. If he could bring his clothing in with him, and Vayin hers, that would at least eliminate the need to strip in alleys.

Garum felt the slow beat of Vayin's heart. Her muscles were mildly stiff, but when she stood and stretched to the sides, then bent and retrieved their pack, the tension faded. The relief was exquisite, like good sleep after a long day. His own aches came not from the heavy lifting–Garum was accustomed to that–but from his anticipation. Yet finally the time had come for him and Vayin to enjoy the city–alone.

Quickly, Vayin untied the pack and removed the blue dress and leather bodice. She glanced from side to side, saw no one, then stripped off the tunic, slipped on the dress, attached the bodice, and removed Garum's braies. Out of the pack, she took a pair of thin knickers, pulled them up, strapped on her girdle, and dropped the two royals in her purse.

Vayin packed Garum's clothes, folding them more neatly than Garum had bothered to fold hers. The young man felt a mental pang of guilt. With the pack over her shoulder, Vayin left the alley.

Even in the short time it had taken them to switch and Vayin to change, the crowd had grown. As Vayin approached Biruak's space, she spotted a pair of boys, around five years old, leaving the farmer's stand of barrels. The children each carried a polished apple.

Twins, do you think? Vayin asked.

They may be.

Bir! Vayin called, waving to the farmer as he raised his head. A short woman in a green dress stood at his booth. Kersey! Vayin thought as she glanced over the fabric. She must be rich. The lady examined a cabbage, rolling it in her hands. She glanced up and peered at the dual through wrinkle-encircled eyes.

Vayin, what are you doing here? Biruak asked.

"Garum came to see us. Mam needs him to help out in the shop. We're building new shelves and gods know that's not my kind of work. So he's going to stay the night. He won't need a ride back to Banaib. You know Garum, he can walk."

And so can you, Garum thought.

As the silver-haired farmer scratched his beard, Vayin's eyes turned back to the woman, who still watched her.

Vayin frowned. What does she want?

What does it matter?

Should I tell your aunt and uncle that Garum won't be there to help with the crop because he's helping your mother put up a shelf?

They'll understand, Vayin answered. He'll be back shortly after noon tomorrow. He won't miss too much work.

The farmer raised a furry eyebrow. Why do you have Garum's pack?

At that, the old woman chuckled, a creaky sound like that of a rope-swing moving back and forth under a thick branch.

The pack? Vayin gazed at the strap across her shoulder. I met him a few blocks back because I was coming this way. He looked like he could use some rest. So I offered to carry it.

That boy's as strong as a plow horse, Biruak said. He waved toward the juggler's audience. I thought he wanted to watch that performer.

Yes, that's where he went. I'm going to join him. So, you'll tell Aunt Brinina and Uncle Coddy?

Biruak simply nodded.

Thank you, Bir, Vayin said, grasping the edges of her wrinkled dress and giving a curtsey. She glanced again at the old woman, but seeing the stranger's hard stare, immediately averted her gaze and strolled toward the juggler.

She frightens me, Vayin whispered.

Don't worry. I doubt we'll see her again.

Nodding, Vayin eased through the crowd, down the slight slope of the square. The rest of the vendors, farmers, confectioners, butchers, drapers, jewelers, and others who came to market every Guask, interested Garum and Vayin little. The siblings had seen all this before, plenty of times, but this was the first time they allowed themselves to watch a street performer.

Hurry! Garum thought.

Vayin rushed to the performance and edged into the semi-circle. The juggler, a man of perhaps twenty-five with a shaven head, wore a loose red jerkin, and folly-bells jingled on his girdle. For several moments, he waved his hands about. He clapped them together and a dozen shils fell free, the coins bouncing on the cobblestones.

The crowd cheered.

That's all! he shouted, waving a hand above his head. With a snap of his fingers, the fallen coins vanished.

"Now that was real magic!" someone shouted.

Yes! returned the juggler. But the rest was the finest of illusion. He bowed to the crowd's applause.

A dark tingle in Vayin's chest evidenced her disappointment. Why does it have to be over?

I don't know. Let's look for another show. I only wish we could stay in the city longer.

Vayin touched her belly. Perhaps we can. There was a jeweler with necklaces and such. If we took one–Steal? Garum thought, surprised. Vayin, I... we can't. I would like to stay, but–Just once! Think of it. How much would the jeweler lose, compared to all he has? And we could spend more time here! At least a few more days.

Mam and Da will be upset enough with us staying away one day.

You get to be outside all the time there, and I'm always stuck inside the house unless we arrange one of my special visits. That's so seldom. Please, let me do this. Besides, you wanted to see the city!

Yes, I did, but–Vayin watched the performer. Though his crowd had dispersed, he picked up and juggled four bean bags, the red and blue spiraling, leaping in arcs from his hands. One by one, he tossed them into his sack, pulled tight the drawstring, and walked jauntily away.

It's wonderful here, thought Vayin.

Oh, very well then. But be careful.

A dozen feet from the jeweler's booth, Vayin stood on her tiptoes to see his goods. The owner was talking to another man, bartering over the price of something, a bracelet or a necklace.

Trinkets, Garum thought. Pretty, but–They'll do. Enough to give us a few extra evenings here. She crossed her arms and approached the stand.

The jeweler's heavy back hunched as he leaned toward his shorter customer. That's worth a good fifty crowns!

Moreri's ass, said the customer. More like twenty.

Where else are we going to find such a careless owner? Vayin asked. His attention is completely on that man. He hasn't even greeted me.

Find something good, take it, and get back in the crowd. Then we'll go to the Loose Noose.

Not the nicest inn, Vayin thought. They had seen the wretched place now and then when coming to the market square with Biruak.

But I'd wager they'll take a nice necklace as pay. This was your idea. If you're going to do it, then do it!

The necklaces, chains, and beadwork rested in front of the owner. Vayin stood before a display of perhaps twenty rings on a scarlet strip.

The scarlet alone would be valuable, Garum thought. He imagined Vayin pushing the rings aside and dashing away with the cloth. What an amusing way to get caught that would prove!

This won't work, Vayin thought suddenly.

Then leave.

No–he's focused on his customer. The rings are small. I can do this. Vayin raised and examined one copper ring, returned it, picked up another, returned it, then took a third, a silver band inlaid with red stones. Her heartbeat quickened as she pretended to set it in place, but palmed it instead. It slipped easily into her dress pocket. She took a deep breath while turning to gaze at rugs sold at a neighboring booth.

Be cautious! Garum thought.

I am! Besides, he hasn't noticed.

Perhaps Vayin was right because the owner continued to barter with his customer, now over another item.

Three royals, said the customer.

You're crazy. That's worth ten!

But Vayin, the way you took that last breath! Gods, he could have noticed it. You should have picked up something else at that moment and sighed to cover it, to make it seem as if you found a trinket you wished–He hasn't noticed!

The sight of the most prominent rug quieted Garum. Woven into it was a beautiful scene. A burly, brown-haired man in a loincloth ran through fresh grass next to a naked woman with long, curling black hair. Following them skipped a wide-eyed boy in a red and olive tunic.

I'll wait here a moment, Vayin thought, then be on my way. He'll never know.

Garum heard Vayin, but ignored her comment, studying the rug through her vision. The man and woman were Lothay and Moreri, the gods everyone adored. Everyone, perhaps, but Garum and Vayin. If those gods despised duals, as all the priests said, why should duals care for them at all? The youth was the worst of the trio, Rhatlan, the mischievous god who had given duals a bad name.

Enough, Garum thought. Let's go.

Vayin nodded, then strolled into the crowd. A moment later, a thick hand grabbed her upper arm. She flinched and turned to the jeweler's pockmarked face.

Well, now, a little thief. He shook his head, but his narrow gaze fixed on Vayin's eyes. I wager I should call the city guards.

What?

Damn! What have you done? You did it all wrong! Garum's thought came unbidden, and he wanted to slap himself. I'm sorry, that was unkind. You can get out of this. I know you can–Let me go! Vayin cried.

CHAPTER 2:

STRANGE OLD JEVYA

WITHIN A TEN-FOOT CIRCLE, silence fell. The jeweler grabbed Vayin's closed hand and pried back her fingers. When that revealed nothing but her pink palm, he patted her hip, then reached into her dress pocket and snatched out the ring. Sunlight moved through the red stones, making each resemble an accusing eye.

Vayin opened her mouth to speak, but someone interrupted.

Naal, came a high, old voice, what are you doing to my granddaughter?

The jeweler rolled the ring between his index finger and thumb as he turned toward the speaker. Beside Vayin stood the portly old woman from Biruak's stand. She smelled of rose perfume, but her stern expression contrasted with the sweet scent. As she stared at Naal, the wrinkles around her eyes resembled claws.

What is she doing? Garum wondered.

Helping, answered Vayin. Her lips twitched into a curious smile.

Granddaughter? asked Naal, voice rising in surprise. Well, Jevya, what is your granddaughter doing taking things from my stand?

Taking things? What has she got that's yours?

"She had this! said Naal, holding the ring inches from Jevya's face. Snatched it right up and was heading away with it!"

I'm sure it's a mistake! Jevya exclaimed.

I don't think–

How much is it?

What? Naal asked.

The price!

A hundred crowns!

Vayin nearly gasped.

She was coming to meet me at that butcher's stand. Jevya pointed toward the upper market. Vayin's not a thief.

She knows my name?

Of course. Bir said it.

Here, Naal. Jevya opened her hip purse, pinched out ten silver royals, and held them toward the jeweler. Name of Moreri, just take them.

She didn't even bother bartering, Garum thought.

After a moment's hesitation, Naal snatched the money and placed the ring in Jevya's hand. Next time she comes by here, the jeweler said, "I'd like to see you with her."

Good enough, if it makes you so nervous. Come now, Vayin. We need to get home.

Vayin took the woman's soft hand, and they strolled away.

Outside the market crowd, Vayin smiled. Thank you. I don't know why you–

Jevya slapped her wrist.

Why did you slap me? Vayin rubbed the throbbing skin.

Gods, she hits hard for a woman so old! Garum thought. She must be over eighty, and that hurt!

Shame, shame on you! Jevya said. You're lucky I saw you earlier or you would have been in a fix now. She frowned. Besides the stealing, you seem like a decent... a nice girl. I'll fix you lunch. Just come along. I live close by.

Thank you for the help, and I am grateful, but I don't know you. Keep the ring. I'll just be on my way. I suppose we should either look for an inn for the night or just head home. Vayin walked toward the market. Jevya's wooden-soled shoes clopped behind.

Vayin stopped, shook her head, then turned.

It's hospitality I'm offering you, Jevya said. Have lunch with me and we'll talk. I paid your way out of trouble, so I think you owe me this.

The dual sighed. Very well. Lunch sounds fine.

A low fire crackled in the brick hearth, roasting the pork sausages placed on the hob. Even with that heat and the thick walls to keep it in, a cold draft passed across Vayin's ankles. Leaning against her chair's hard back, she crossed her arms.

The old woman had brought them to her cottage, a whitewashed, wooden building with a tiled roof. Most of the neighboring homes had roofs of thatch. On approaching, Vayin glimpsed Jevya's back yard, a fenced off garden of violets and tulips with a granite sundial at the far side.

Jevya sliced manchet bread on the short working table. Beside her rested a forearm-high glowing statue of a young woman. The figure's dress sloped to the table in the shape of wax melting from a candle.

Look at that statue, Garum thought. She's pretty.

Shifting her gaze, Vayin allowed her brother to study the figure. It provided enough light for Jevya's work, but regarding it did not hurt Vayin's eyes. The woman in the statue had a lovely oval face and hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She held her hands, one atop the other, against her bosom.

Vayin sneezed into the mildly dusty air. Garum, do you think Jevya wants to hurt us? Fear radiated through Vayin's chest like strands of a web. Her daydream, not quite hidden from Garum, was of Jevya coming at them with the bread knife, throwing curses with her free hand.

Don't worry, Garum thought. If she tries anything, remember that she's old. You have the advantage. Why would she hurt us now? She saved us out there.

I have a feeling she's a witch, or maybe a guild sorceress.

Even more reason to believe she wouldn't harm us. We haven't seen her do any magic.

True, I suppose, Vayin mused. But she was at Bir's stand, then at the jeweler's, just in time to defend me. Strange. What could she want?

A moment later, Jevya ambled to the table carrying a platter filled with sliced bread and chunks of apple. You could at least help set the table.

Vayin stood and entered the kitchen.

When the old woman lifted a knife, Vayin flinched, but Jevya grabbed a plate and walked to the hearth. Hurry, Vayin. Jevya pierced the sausages with the blade and pulled them one by one from the hob, setting them on the plate. "We have things to