“E” for Ekhono
by: Mette Ivie Harrison
Copyright 2012 by Mette Ivie Harrison
“Your Grace, wake up.”
Kellin felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him none too gently. “What?” he said, sure that King Haikor had sent a guard to take him to the Tower. Where was his sword? He could use his taweyr to turn it to flames and while it startled the guard, there would be time for him to get free.
“Your Grace, there’s an execution planned at noon. Three young boys and a girl, proved ekhonos.”
He was at home, Kellin realized after a moment. This was his own bed, not the one in the palace. He was warmer here and the smell of the tangy salt of the sea was in the air. His own castle, small, made of the soft white stone that was found in the natural underground caves nearby, cold and veined with color as if it were living, and veined with blood.
Here his room was hardly larger than a bed and a trunk. He lived at the top of the turret where he had begged his father to let him sleep as a boy. He had been terrified that first time, but refused to show it to his father the next morning. He had walked down the stairs shakily, but with his head held high.
He forgot how much he loved home, when he was in the palace. It was self-defense, for if he remembered, he could not stay as long as he had to, nor play the part that King Haikor expected him to play.