The King's 11th Wife

Chapter 7: Living Among The Naims

A few days later, young Morielle peered out of the big window. She did realize it was Tallahir’s backyard, where he practices combat with or without weapons every single day. As she watched him with her curious eyes, a thought came to mind.

“What? You want to learn how to fight?” Tallahir echoed, eyes narrowing as he stared at her at the other end of the rectangular table, eating dinner.

They were at the dining room, which had white square lanterns hung near the ceiling and thus giving them illumination like daytime. The twelve-seater table was in the middle of the room. The glass windows were open to let in the fresh evening air. It would soon be closed once a servant was back for them to not get chilled by the autumn air.

Ever since she became the little mistress of the house, she was informed of the rules that Tallahir himself told her that she must follow, such as to always wake up early, eat at the right time, pray daily at the temple either at noon or in the afternoon since there was a leith-driven palanquin that would carry her there, learn to do house chores as it was necessary even though they had servants, learn some special kills like cross stitch or others she would like to and listen to her “father.”

“I wish to join your army,” she revealed.

Tallahir was stupefied for a moment before a laugh came out of his mouth. “Morielle, for as long as Yet’hoda is concerned, there are no female soldiers in the army. It’s all men.”

“But what if I want to join? I promise I will learn how to fight. From you.”

“You’re a girl. And at your age, you’re simply not going to make it.” Tallahir shook his head. “If you’ll try now, you’ll definitely fail!”

“Then, teach me! You’re my father now, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be helping me out to achieve my dream?”

This time, Tallahir’s beige eyes narrowed even more. “Why do you want to join the Yet’hoda? It’s dangerous, especially for a girl like you. We, Naims, don’t send our girls to war. We keep them safe.”

I don’t care if it’s dangerous, and I don’t care about your Naim ways. It’s the only way I can get my revenge, she thought with determination. Her fists were tight under the table.

“Are you discriminating me… Father?” she slowly asked. She was partly afraid that Tallahir might hurt her if she stayed stubborn and insistent.

Aelor, who just walked in to oversee a maidservant give them their dessert, heard it. Another maidservant followed them to close the two large windows of the dining room, which was on the ground floor.

“No, I’m telling you the reality and what’s the norm. Since you’re a child, you must learn these things, Morielle.” He paused, staring into her eyes before he spoke again. “If you still haven’t. However, there’s no law in the kingdom that says women are not allowed to join the Yet’hoda.”

Morielle’s little heart jumped with joy, and she couldn’t hide a smile from him. “Thank you… Father!”

***

“You’re here again, young child. Where is your father Tallahir?” asked Prevoya Viarren. His teal robe had a chain of green tree embroidery near the hem, and his clothing was long. He had kind eyes that Morielle found safe and assuring.

On the marble floor where she knelt and bowed facing two white gigantic statues of the Orabean gods, Naddiro (God of High) and Ygrob (God of Low), she raised her head up to the high priest in front of her. Two lower-ranked priests stood behind him, silent.

“He’s in the royal palace with King Raithen, as usual. I heard they are going to visit a place called Nizzabo. What’s that place, by the way, Prevoya Viarren?”

“It’s an infirmary in the south of the kingdom. It’s located in the town of Ilgi, where the current plague is inflicting our fellow Naims. As the ruler of this kingdom, King Raithen has to settle it with a powerful wizard that only performs his duty when he’s around. It seems that the wizard is bound to the crown head. Besides, the King wants to know if he does his job well, to witness it.”

“What’s a plague, Prevoya Viarren?” she asked, sitting down and crossing her legs.

The number of Naims that prayed to the two gods decreased as minutes gone by. Usually, Morielle would stay to talk with the high priest, who was taken with her.

It was unusual for a girl to go alone in the temple, with merely the coachman to accompany her every afternoon. As soon as the high priest learned she was the adopted child of the khran of the King, he got curious about her and asked her questions about her past, which she gave as little details as possible and lied as well.

“It’s a disease that is fast to infect others… and the contracted ones generally expire in a specific time or condition. The elite warriors, the saighs, are going to contain the place, together with the Yet’hoda.”

Now she understood why her father had to go with such haste this morning. They had to stop the plague from spreading to other Orabeans.

“But what will happen to the King and my father?” she asked with uncertainty in her eyes.

The King shouldn’t get sick! I still have to kill him myself! she thought. Her downward-facing fists were on her lap.

“The Voshebb is a powerful wizard and will protect them at the same time he’d do his work. Don’t you worry, child. I trust that they’ll be fine,” the high priest assured her.

Morielle was reminded of her late uncle, who was a Voshebb, too.

If only he used the magic he learned, he would still be alive today, she reflected. However, in Reocht, the Voshebb were not free to become mercenaries to offer their services or to practice magic, especially the black one. The Reoc royals were afraid that Voshebb might teach other Reocs magic. It would not be easy though. Not everyone could perform magic perfectly and it might cause a disaster. And if it would happen, the kingdom would be brought into chaos. Besides, not everyone who became Voshebb was powerful. There were only a few of them who really had the skills in the entire Orabea and who were reliable.

As an ordinary Reoc who knew a little of magic, Morielle thus didn’t dare practice it to avoid accidents.

Should I start to relearn magic? she mutely asked herself.