THIRTY-TWO
After returning from Jindra's house, Folken had expected to be hauled back into Dornkirk's chambers to answer for his
unauthorized departure. But he had been waved through the main gate with barely a thought after giving his name. He had
met no one as he entered the tower and went to his rooms. Once there however, he had waited; expecting the guards to
come for him. After pacing the front room for forty-five minutes or so, he allowed himself to relax. He was puzzled to say
the least, but he had learned long ago that it was impossible to anticipate the emperor's moods.
Dismissing it all, he had sat down and examined what had happened with Erich Roh. He couldn't ever remember being so
angry as when he had left Jindra's house. The long walk back to the tower had done little to cool his temper, and he could
still feel the fire of it burning within. He should have expected the man's dislike from the onset; especially knowing how
Jin's mother felt about him. Anyone who had been born and raised in Zaibach would have reacted in much the same way.
The sorcerer's tower and those connected to it were feared and equally hated. It was one of the first lessons Folken had
learned in Zaibach.
Folken had spent the better part of the night brooding over the whole disaster -- examining it from every angle, wondering if
he could have done something differently. Frustrated, he had clenched his fists and banged them down on the arms of the
chair. It wouldn't have mattered what I did or said. The only thing Erich Roh could see was what I was -- not who I am.
But he had known who Folken was -- or at least who he used to be. Even a prince wasn't good enough for his daughter --
well a former prince anyway. Folken let out a weary sigh. A prince without a title, a throne, a country, a people or the
means to support a wife or family. The man was right on that account anyway. You can't live on love . . . it won't feed and
clothe you. But I can't live without Jin either. Gods! What am I supposed to do? Why is everything in my life so hard?
Folken closed his eyes. I'm not going to cry. I refuse to cry anymore today. Taking several deep breaths, he willed himself
to relax. I will find a way . . . somehow, I will find a way.
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Folken slipped out of the small hidden door and into the shadowed alleyway. Unwilling to press his luck again by departing
from the front gate; he had used his secret path out of the tower. Folken still could not believe his good fortune to have
found the hidden passage and door. Judging from the cobwebs and dust that had accumulated in the dark tunnel, he had
guessed that the passage had remained hidden and unused for a long time before he discovered it. It was his way out of the
tower -- away from the watching eyes; and despite the painful attempt of Dornkirk's guards to wrest it from him, it had
remained his secret.
He had awoken this morning in one of the chairs in his front room. His had felt stiff and there was a weariness that had
settled over him that even a cool shower had not been able to drive away. As he finished dressing, he had heard his
stomach growl. He had not had a proper meal for the past couple of days, but he wasn't sure that he could face going to the
common dinning room in search of breakfast. He didn't want to see Juri or Marco -- not after what had happened in the
hangar when he had learned who the pilot of the first guymelef had been. It had been a very ugly scene and Folken's anger
at the two men had not lessened. As angry as he had been with them, he hated Garufo even more than he did before. The
man had smirked and almost looked gleeful when Folken had finally discovered the truth. He had heard the man's mocking
laughter as he ran from the hangar. The more that Folken thought about it, the stronger his bad feeling had become that
Garufo had something to do with what had happened.
The secret tunnel led to a narrow alleyway several blocks away from the sorcerer's tower; and with a few quick steps,
Folken soon found himself merging out onto the busy sidewalk. He had learned that Coren's body had been returned to the
city and that his funeral service was to be tomorrow at the academy assembly hall. The hall would also be open for several
hours this evening for those wishing to pay their respects; and that was where Folken was heading. Knowing that Jindra's
parents were not likely to welcome his condolences, Folken had planned to wait until the very end and then slip in to pay his
respects to Coren without anyone being the wiser. Therefore, he was surprised to see that there were still quite a number of
people coming and going as he reached the hall.
Standing near the door, he waited until a group of several people entered and then he slipped in with them. Separating
himself, he kept to the side of the room and his eyes glanced about. He saw Jindra's parents on the other side of the room
speaking with someone. As he made his way towards the dias where Coren's casket had been set, he saw Jindra sitting in a
chair along the wall. She was sitting with a young dark-haired man who was wearing the dress uniform of the academy.
The two were talking quietly and he could see a glitter of wetness in both pairs of eyes. The man seemed vaguely familiar,
but Folken couldn't seem to place him. Moving to a small recessed alcove, he watched Jindra and the man as they sat
together. Folken raised his eyebrow when the man took Jindra's hand and held it. After talking for several more moments,
he saw Jindra try to pull her hand away, but the man did not let go. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the man bring
Jindra's hand to his lips and kiss it. He expected her to protest and pull her hand away; and he felt disappointed when she
didn't. The two spoke for a few more moments and Folken heard his own breath catch when he saw Jindra reach out and
embrace the other man. When the man kissed the top of Jindra's head as she held him, Folken felt his heart clench in a
wave of jealousy and he staggered back into the shadows of the alcove. Who does he think he is? Jin is mine -- I should be
the one holding her. He closed his eyes, but the image of the two remained.
Folken waited, hidden in the alcove, until everyone had left -- including Jindra and her family. Glancing out, he saw that
there was a lone servant in the room, straightening up and putting out some of the lights. Stepping out into the room, he
quietly made his way towards the dias. He was almost there when the servant spotted him. "Excuse me sir, but calling
hours have passed. I've got to lock up now."
Folken turned slightly, "Yes, I know. I was unable to come earlier and--and this man was a very close friend. I'll only be a
few minutes. Please?"
The man looked at him for a moment and then nodded his. Turning away, he continued about his business.
Folken slowly approached Coren's casket. He looked down as he felt tears in his eyes. Reaching out he rested his hand on
the flag-draped lid. His voice was a whisper, "Coren . . . I'm so sorry. I wish--I wish that we had more time to be friends.
You were the first true friend that I had here. I know you didn't approve of my relationship with Jin, but--but I love her so
much . . . I want you to know that. I'm sorry that we won't be brothers now. But I give you my word that I'll be there to love
and protect her for you." He took a breath, "I also give you my pledge to find out what happened to you. I swear that I'll
find out the truth . . . if it takes until my own dying day." And if Garufo had anything at all to do with it -- I swear I'll kill
him with my own hands. I'll rip the flesh from that gut of his and wrap it around his neck until he turns black!