Forgiven

She opened her eyes slowly, carefully, as though afraid to see the forest that surrounded her.  She shuddered slightly in the crisp dawn air.

Jasson watched her from a high spot in a nearby tree.  He had never seen anyone quite like her: a small, fine-boned girl with wild auburn hair.  He knew there must be an interesting story behind those fearful hazel eyes.  But Jasson knew it was best not to get involved in anything else while he was on a mission.  Jasson might have been his given name once, when he was young, but now his name was Michael.  It was Michael to whom the mission had been given and it was Michael who would complete it.

Jasson glanced once more in the girl’s direction, curious to see what she would do next.  He had first seen her the night before.  He had been sleeping lightly and was awoken by the sound she made as she ran raggedly through the forest.  Now that it was dawn, Jasson could see that she was pale and uncertain, probably no more than twenty years of age.

The girl stood and leaned against a tree.  She then announced: “Please show yourself.  I have no wish to be spied upon.”  Startled, Jasson automatically complied, dropping out of the tree in which he had spent the night watching over her.  He studied her a bit longer, and he knew she was doing the same to him.  There was no way she could have seen him, concealed as he was among the branches of the tree.  He hadn't made even the slightest noise.  She hadn’t even been facing the direction of the tree that Jasson had been in. 

“What is your name?” Jasson asked abruptly, hiding his pity beneath an inscrutable mask.

She hesitated, then replied, “Ashelyn.”

Jasson met her soft brown eyes.  "Why are you out here in the forest, Ashelyn?”           
Ashelyn looked away.

Jasson continued gently. "You are tired and hungry.  You need new clothes.”  He eyed Ashelyn’s torn and muddied dress, clearly not made for trekking through the woods.  “You can get all of these in a town not far south of here.”

At this, Ashelyn’s eyes grew wild with fear.  “No!” she burst out. 

Jasson raised an eyebrow and waited for her to give a reason, but she said nothing.  After a few moments, he broke the silence again.  “There is no other town for several miles - only wilderness.” 

There was another long pause.  Jasson sighed.  This girl was obviously not going to tell why she was being chased, at least not willingly.

“Where is it that you were trying to go?” Jasson asked, although he already knew what Ashelyn would say. 

“I don’t know."

Jasson responded quite levelly.  “If you do not find your way back to a town, then you will most likely die.  The forest is not a friendly place...especially not this forest.” 

Ashelyn's voice became strangely authoritative.  “You're going somewhere too, aren't you?  Take me with you.”

Jasson was struck dumb for a moment at the unexpected change.  “No,” he said coldly.  "What is it to me if you die?"  But even as he said it, he felt an odd ache in his heart at the thought of this helpless girl starving to death or being torn to pieces by the wild animals.

Ashelyn lowered her head.  “Please,” she said softly.  Jasson looked up at the treetops, thinking that he should never had spoken to her, and began to rationalize.  Ashelyn was just a helpless girl.  She wouldn’t interfere with his mission - besides, all he had left to do was deliver the letter to Darklight.  How could he leave her to die?  Jasson shook himself mentally.  He was a Solitary, one of Darklight's best spies; what was he doing, even talking to this girl? 

Jasson looked back at Ashelyn, determined to hear the truth.  “Who or what is chasing you?” 

Ashelyn instinctively glanced over her shoulder.  “Nothing,” she started to say, but quickly stopped herself.  “I don't know, exactly,” she admitted.  "But I have a Talent--"

"A Talent?" Jasson interrupted.  "No one's had a Talent for hundreds of years.  And then, they were weak."  And the only people who had them were those of the houses of the Lords of the realm, he added to himself, looking at Ashelyn with new eyes.

Ashelyn lifted her chin and stood as tall as she could.  Jasson hid a smile: she barely came to his shoulder.  "I don't care whether you believe me or not," she said haughtily.  "But I know they are there.  I may not see them or hear them, but I can sense their presence, coming closer at every moment."

Unseen and unheard…those words teased a dark memory in Jasson's mind.  Suddenly he made up his mind.

“Stay here,” Jasson said and started to leave once again. 

“Wait!” Ashelyn cried.  Jasson turned around, his face inscrutable. 

“I’ll be back,” he said neutrally.  Ashelyn hesitated, then asked, “But what is your name?” 

Jasson paused as well, the name Michael on the tip of his tongue.  After all, he was on a mission.  Then for some reason he found himself saying his true name: “Jasson.”  He turned on his heel and quickly strode away.

Once he was out of sight, Ashelyn sat back down against a tree, putting her arms around her knees.  Though she was still exhausted from her long flight, she could not fall asleep.  She felt the presence of her pursuers in her mind, but she could no longer discern how close they were.  Frustrated, she tried to concentrate, but she couldn't find anything.  Her Talent seemed to be fading.  Why?

Without her talent, Ashelyn was forced to put her life into the hands of a complete stranger. She had no idea why Jasson was helping her – or if he was at all.  Maybe he was one of the shadows tracking her.  After all, if she truly was on the brink of a forested wilderness like Jasson had said, then what was he doing out here in the first place? 

Ashelyn couldn’t perceive any of Jasson’s intentions or feelings with her Talent.  She had originally been able to sense the menace in the shadows following her, but she couldn't even do that anymore.  Still, her Talent had not completely failed her.  At least she had been able to detect Jasson’s presence.

Closing her eyes, Ashelyn relaxed against the tree.  Whether she liked it or not, she was dependent on Jasson.  Her life was no longer in her hands.




Jasson held up his hand, signaling a halt.  He smiled slightly as he heard Ashelyn stop immediately behind him.  She had learned, among other things, to pay close attention to him and obey him without delay.  Jasson unslung his rucksack from his back and set it down, rummaging for food.  Ashelyn looked at him curiously, wondering why he had called for a rest although it was not yet dusk.  Jasson said nothing.  He found what was left of the food and gave some to Ashelyn.  She too kept silent as she sat down and gnawed on the bread and dried fruit.  Jasson, however, did not eat. 

Leaning against a tree, Jasson contemplated the last ten days.  Ashelyn certainly looked different than she had when he first found her.  The pale, uncertain face had been replaced with a calm steadiness.  Her clothes were a bit ragged, but still in better condition than her old dress.  At first Ashelyn had protested wearing boys’ clothes, but quickly came to realize they were much more practical.  Ashelyn’s sudden mood changes still puzzled Jasson, however.  One moment she would be proud and commanding, the next indecisive and meek.

Ashelyn was eager to learn woodscraft from Jasson, and had improved greatly even in the short time they had been traveling together.  Jasson smiled wryly as he remembered how clumsy she had been.  He had had to carry Ashelyn to keep her from leaving tracks for their shadows to follow.  Still, even though she had gained some skill, Jasson wouldn’t leave her to find her own way back to the town – not with the shadows out there.

Jasson’s thoughts turned toward the shadows, their mysterious pursuers.  He had never seen them, nor did he plan to.  Jasson had learned a long time ago to assume that if he could see them, then they could see him.  Instead, he had simply backtracked in a broad circle until he found what must be the shadows’ trail.  He had almost missed it; even though the shadows did not expect anyone to follow them, they had covered their tracks to some extent.  Jasson took great care to remain hidden and did not directly follow their tracks, in case they decided to turn back.  He was sure that the shadows would never catch Ashelyn now.  The curious thing was that the shadows seemed to realize this themselves. They were not searching for Ashelyn's trail anymore.  But even so, they were still traveling north into the wilderness, the same direction that Jasson was headed.  Those words of ten days ago still haunted him, teasing his memory – unseen and unheard….

Ashelyn, of course, knew none of this, only that they were not in immediate danger of the shadows.  Jasson glanced over at her, and found that she had finished eating and was looking inquisitively at him. 

Jasson stood and said, “Stay here.”  His look told her that he was serious.  “The shadows no longer hunt you, but if you were to wander off there’s no telling who or what you might meet.  If trouble finds you, hide or use the dagger I gave you.”  He started to walk north again, glancing at the sun.  He should be able to reach the fortress by sunset tomorrow.

Behind him Ashelyn called out, “Am I permitted to ask where you are going?”  Jasson looked at her and saw once again her wry smile, and suddenly realized that he would miss Ashelyn tomorrow.  He smiled in reply and said, “You are not.”  Then he faced the north once again, and did not look back. 




Jasson strode briskly along the narrow stone hallway towards Darklight’s office.  Even after all his years of service, he had never quite gotten used to the maze of honeycombed passages under the mountains that made up Darklight’s main headquarters.  Of course, as the kingdom’s spymaster, Darklight regularly visited several outposts throughout the realm, but for his headquarters, he preferred a place as enigmatic as himself.

No one knew much about Darklight’s past, not even those like Jasson who had been in his service for most of their lives.  The king knew Darklight somehow, and trusted him immensely.  The king had personally appointed him to be spymaster several years ago, not long after becoming king.  The two were complete opposites.  The king was often excessively blunt and pathetically tactless.  Darklight, on the other hand, was reserved and understood very well the intricacies of diplomacy.  As a result, Darklight was often caught up in the politics of court - but Darklight’s first priority was always his underground network.

Jasson continued along the austere hall, lighted by dim lamps, until he came to a plain wooden door at the end of the hall.  He knocked firmly three times, and heard Darklight’s voice: “Come in.” 

Jasson entered the room, which, although every bit as practical as the rest of the stone fortress, was more comfortably furnished.  Darklight rose from his desk to greet Jasson.

“Welcome, Michael,” he said.  “Have you got the letter?”  Jasson removed it from his sleeve where he had put it after taking it out of the rucksack, which he had left behind for Ashelyn.  Without a word he handed the letter to Darklight, who glanced at it briefly out of habit to ensure that it was the copy he needed.  Jasson knew Darklight must be wondering why he took so long to copy the letter, which was generally an easy task for someone as experienced as Jasson.  Evading Ashelyn’s shadows had taken some time. 

Darklight set the letter on his desk.  “Any news?” 

Jasson shook his head.  “The people are busy with the harvest and with their own lives, but they still seem a bit restless.  The nobles are hungry for power, as always, but have still been quiet recently.”

Jasson stopped speaking, seeing that Darklight was not interested.  There was something bothering him.  After a moment, Jasson asked, “What is it?” 

Darklight went back behind his desk and sat down, motioning for Jasson to do the same.  “I have a mission for you,” he said finally.  “It is of great importance.  Six days ago Salenon’s seal of Lordship was stolen during his sleep; presumably he was drugged.  Lord Salenon, being the troublemaker he is, blamed the Crown.  There is no proof, of course, but Salenon came to the king that very day – privately, thank goodness – and demanded the return of the Silver Dolphin and the head of the thief within one week.  Otherwise he will break away from the Crown and declare war.  Presumably he has swayed some of the other Lords to his side by now; and tomorrow, unless his conditions are met, the realm will erupt in turmoil.” 

Darklight sighed, suddenly looking very old and very tired.  “Normally, I wouldn’t send a Solitary on this mission, but you are my best tracker.  The thief was found the same day by my Unseen and Unheard, but they lost her somehow that night in the forest.”

Jasson’s eyebrow twitched.  Her?

Darklight continued smoothly.  “The thief was Salenon’s daughter, Ashelyn.”

Jasson was frozen.  Darklight’s voice sounded tinny and distant to his ears.  He listened numbly as Darklight gave a detailed description of Ashelyn, and where she had been last seen.  Everything made sense now: Ashelyn’s panicked flight through the nighttime, her once-fine dress, and her sudden authoritative manner.  It even explained why the shadows kept moving north towards Darklight’s stronghold even when they had stopped hunting Ashelyn.  Jasson generally avoided Darklight’s assassins, but he had heard Darklight reference them enough to make Ashelyn’s words, Unseen and Unheard, uncomfortably familiar.

Darklight’s final words broke into his thoughts: “Find her by tomorrow sunset or it will be open war.”




Ashelyn waited breathlessly, hidden among the branches of the tree.  She sensed the human presence coming closer, although she could hear nothing.  Then she heard a voice that she recognized.

“Ashelyn?”

With a sigh of relief, she dropped from the tree.  “I’m here,” she called out.  Jasson stepped out from among the trees.  Ashelyn automatically tried to use her Talent to tell her where he had gone and why, but discovered nothing.  Jasson was a mystery to her even now after seven days.  But Ashelyn still saw something different about him now.  Yesterday when Jasson had left her, he had been almost friendly.  Now there was a cold mask in the place of his smile.

“Jasson?” Ashelyn asked uncertainly.  Jasson strode purposefully in front of her and without explanation asked “Why did you do it?” 

Ashelyn froze.  “What?” she managed weakly.  Jasson did not respond.  Ashelyn lowered her gaze.  Jasson’s voice snapped like a whip. 

“Look at me!”  Immediately Ashelyn looked up again.  “Why did you do it?” he repeated. 

Ashelyn stared into Jasson’s inscrutable grey eyes, seeing past them to another time and place.  “I…couldn’t,” she whispered.  “I just couldn’t.” 

“Couldn’t do what?” Jasson demanded. 

“Kill him,” Ashelyn said simply.  Her green eyes refocused on Jasson’s face, searching for understanding.

“I tried, but I couldn’t kill him.  No matter how he treated me, he was still my father.  So instead I drugged him and stole his precious Dolphin.  Then I fled.  I dropped his seal of Lordship, which never ought to have been his, down the deepest well I could find so that it will never be found or returned.”  Ashelyn’s face was small, and pale, and she looked very much the same as when Jasson had first looked upon her.

Jasson’s face was impassive, but inside he was cursing himself for being such a fool.  He should have just killed her and gotten it over with: without the head of the thief, as Salenon had demanded, all would be lost.  But how could he murder in cold blood a girl whose only real crime was not killing her father?

Ashelyn’s voice interrupted his thoughts.  “I have my Talent, you know; it allows me to sense someone’s presence, sometimes their thoughts, and occasionally their future intentions.  It was easiest to hear my father's thoughts.  I heard as many of his evil plots as I could - including when he killed the old Lord - but no matter what I did stop him, his will always came to pass.”  Her face was completely emotionless.  Jasson was completely taken aback.  Salenon killed Lord Renyl of the Dolphin? 

“Salenon was going to kill the king.”  Ashelyn said it quite bluntly and calmly, as though speaking of the weather.  “I couldn’t allow him to do that…but neither could I steel myself to end my own father’s life, no matter how he treats me or anyone else.  But if I stole the seal, I hoped he would be content with framing the king instead of killing him.”

There was a moment of silence, and suddenly Jasson wanted to laugh or to cry with the irony of it all.  Ashelyn had effectively halted a plot against the king that even Darklight knew nothing about, and as a result she must die.  It then occurred to him that with some training, Ashelyn could have been an amazing spy.  And at that moment Jasson knew that he could not kill her. 

Quietly Jasson spoke.  “It is a long way to Mense,” naming a small neighboring country.  Ashelyn looked at him curiously, puzzled.  “And it will be dangerous,” Jasson continued.  “You will need a guide.” 

Ashelyn’s eyes widened, but then she shook her head firmly.  “You cannot throw away your life for mine,” she said sternly, with her queenly authority.  “I—” 

Jasson cut her off.  “Darklight will understand,” he said, not at all certain that he would.  Then he glanced up at the sky.  “It is not yet noon; we have a long way to go.”