Page 6 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope
3
TAMIRA
Tamira stood at the water's edge, letting the waves lap at her toes, trying to memorize every sensation—the warmth of the sand, the salt breeze on her skin, the sound of the other ladies' laughter behind her. The sun was beginning its descent toward the horizon, and soon they would have to return to the mansion, then to the harem. Moments like this would become memories to sustain her through the endless monotony of captivity.
Eluheed and Tony were competing again, and she and the other ladies were cheering them on. She knew that Eluheed was holding back on purpose and letting Tony win, but she clapped and cheered him anyway.
"My lady?"
She turned to find one of the guards standing at a respectful distance, holding a towel.
Tamira smiled at him. "I don't need a towel, but thank you for thinking to bring it."
"Forgive me, my lady." He glanced around nervously, checking the positions of the other guards, most of whom were focused on the ladies still playing in the water or on the men competing in the distance. "I need to tell you something." He extended his hand with the towel despite what she had told him.
It dawned on her that the towel was an excuse, and she took it from him. "Thank you." She patted her eyes as if salt had gotten into them. "What is it?"
"I knew your son. I served under him. He looks so much like you that I know for sure you are his mother."
The world tilted.
Tamira's legs suddenly felt as though they could no longer support her, and she had to lock her knees to keep from swaying. "My son?"
"The resemblance is unmistakable. You have the same eyes, the same unusual deep shade of blue, and the same way of tilting your head when thinking." The guard's voice dropped even lower.
"What's his name?" she whispered.
"Darien, my lady."
Tamira was barely able to remain standing. Her knees were trembling, and she was holding on to the towel like a lifeline.
Navuh hadn't ordered that the name be changed.
"Darien," she breathed, the name feeling simultaneously foreign and familiar on her lips. Precious. "His name is still Darien?"
The guard nodded, but something passed over his eyes that gave her pause. Suddenly, the other things he had said registered. "I knew your son," he'd said, using the past tense.
She felt like throwing up. "Where is he?" The words came out strangled, desperate. "Where is my son?"
The guard shifted uncomfortably, glancing around again. Two of his fellow guards had moved closer, not quite within earshot but close enough to notice their continuing conversation.
He swallowed, then reached for her towel, as if he was collecting it. When she handed it to him, he whispered, "Officially, he died in World War II—killed in action in Japan—the nuclear bombs. But the rumors claim that the entire unit defected. They were never found and never confirmed dead."
Hope and confusion warred in her chest. "That's impossible. They couldn't have. The compulsion?—"
"Another of Lord Navuh's sons led them," the guard said in a barely audible voice and turned around with the towel. "Commander Kalugal. He had a reputation for being different." He walked away, leaving her stunned and angry.
Kalugal.
She knew that name, and it hit her like a slap. Kalugal was Navuh and Areana's younger son, taken from her as a little boy just like all the other boys born in the harem.
Did Areana know that he had defected? That he had taken Tamira's son with him?
There was no way Navuh hadn't told her, and if she thought that Kalugal was dead, she would have been crying her eyes out for decades. But there had been no crying, no mourning, whichmeant that she knew he had defected, which meant that Navuh knew that as well.
What else did Areana know that she hadn't told anyone?
But it didn't matter. The important thing was that Darien was alive and free.
