Wing & Nien

by Shytei Corellian

Jason glanced over at Gendt, a farmer by trade, pessimist by nature.

  Another militia member, struggling to secure his longbow in the harness at his back, asked, “Has anyone spoken with the Kiutu? If the Jayakans are planning something, maybe we can add our numbers to theirs.”

  All eyes shifted to Jason.

  “Monteray has heard nothing from the Kiutu,” Jason said. “The best thing we can do is protect the Pass.”

  Troy Naterey, a craftsman and leader of the militia, walked through the group of men. A large bow was slung over his back and a short sword swung at his side. “Jason’s right. Let’s stop talking and get a move on.”

  The militia moved out.

  “Jason! Jason!”

  Jason looked behind him.

  “It’s your little brother,” one of the men remarked snidely as Call tried to push his way through the moving line.

  Seeing him, Jason managed to extricate himself, ignoring the swearing of the other men whose paths he’d had to cross to get out. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to come,” Call gasped, catching his breath.

  Jason grunted exasperatedly. “You can’t come. Why do you always do this? Yiffa, it’s embarrassing.”

  Call’s eyes fell. “I’m sorry, I just — I don’t want to be left behind.”

  Jason’s demeanor softened. “Listen, someone needs to stay behind, take care of things here. It won’t be long, not long at all before you’ll be going a lot farther than Jayak.”

  Call looked up into his brother’s eyes.

  Jason forced a smile. “Be good. Take care of Mom. I’ll see you soon.”

  Call could only watch as Jason turned, and after a quick look back, hurried ahead into the throng of men.

  Chapter 36

  First Battle

  N ien stood beside Lant. Before them the Cant leaders were getting ready, their gear scattered about their feet. The Council had made no official demands upon Nien after his return from Quieness: he had neither been banished from the people nor dismissed from the Cant. In fact, they’d even let his promotion stand as Lant’s First. Though Nien was not overly pleased at the reason he assigned to the amity — that they did not want to alienate Wing further by excluding Nien — he had gratefully accepted the dispensation. And so, the season of Kive had flown by after his return, filled with Cant training and helping at home with the planting of late of challak and the beginnings of harvest. It was only a turn out before the Kojko festival and leaves high in the mountains had already begun to change. Nien had taken a break from the help needed at home to prepare for this, the first full excursion of the new Cant leadership.

  After officially being appointed Lant’s First the night of his return to Rieeve, Nien had appointed six other Cant Leaders: Carly, Mien’k, Shiela, Teru, Reel, and Bredo.

  Nien would be leading them up Jhiyak Canyon to the Y where the canyon split one way to Jayak and the other to Legran. They would camp there, at the base of Vilif Pass, before continuing towards Jayak.

  It had not been easy for Commander Lant and Nien to decide on the route. Though things were changing in Legran, that the valley had once enslaved its Preak population meant many Legranders were still leery of the race and would most certainly view a Preak man leading a team of armed men into their valley as a threat. On the other hand, Jayakans saw Rieevans as intellectual inferiors and therefore would not welcome any of them into their valley, except for Nien.

  In the end, he and Commander Lant had decided that entering either valley was unnecessary — the whole point behind the excursion was to scout out routes for future training exercises and to give the new leaders a chance to coalesce.

  Nien looked up from his thoughts to find Mien’k’s eyes upon him. His friend was smiling. Nien nodded to him. This foray was a christening of sorts and they’d been looking forward to it.

  Lant gave them final instructions and a short admonition before turning and thumping Nien on the back. “Take care of each other,” he said.

  Nien gave the signal to move out.

  The small company camped the first night a fair way up the canyon just before the great fork.

  “How are you?” Nien asked, walking over to lie down for the night. The evening meal eaten and fires all put out, most of the group were already curled up in their bedrolls.

  “Fabulous,” Carly replied, gazing up through the trees into the night sky. “It’s so beautiful. Coming out here always makes me wonder why I don’t do it more often.”

  “Strange that this is something most of our people have never and will never experience.” Carly nodded. “Going to Quieness changed me. I’m the better for it. I only wish our people…”

  “I know,” Carly said. “That’s why you wanted to teach. It’s the next best thing.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I would like to travel, I think. But I’m not as bold as you are. I would be scared going somewhere like Quieness alone.”

  Nien chuckled. “It was a good thing I went when I did — when I had no idea what I was in for.”

  “Not knowing what’s around the corner is one of life’s greatest blessings, ‘cause if we did — ” Carly paused.

  Nien grinned in the dark. “We’d never get out of bed.”

  They shared a smile and rested quietly for a time, gazing up at the night sky, the indistinct conversations between the rest of the leaders a low, comforting hum.

  “How’s Wing?” Carly asked.

  “Fine. Busy — you know.”

  “I mean how is he with, you know, everything that’s been going on?”

  “Oh,” Nien said, stretching and placing his hands behind his head. “Sometimes I know what he’s going to say before he says it, other times I would have no better idea of what goes on in his head than, well, what Teru’s thinking about over there.”

  Quietly, Carly said, “I’m worried.”

  “About him?”

  “About him, us, the Cant, the people — all of us. If our people are so set on him being the Leader…What will happen, Nien? What will have to happen to make them realize he’s not, if, of course, he really isn’t.”

  There was an awkward pause and Nien understood how hard it must have been for Carly to voice the thought.

  “Either way,” she continued quickly, “look at what it did to the others they thought were the one: Reeant, Rhegal. They became outcasts. Demonized. No one even knows what happened to them after they left Rieeve.”

  Nien fixed his eyes on the stars. “We’ve become arrogant and impatient. As far as I’m concerned, Eosha should call the Leader, not us. You’d think they would have learned that much by now.”

  “I agree,” Carly replied. “But we can’t march into the Council chambers and think we can change their minds.”

  “I’m tempted,” Nien said.

  Nien’s mind passed to Lant and he knew Carly’s had, too.

  “I cannot imagine the Quienan-sized forbearance the Commander must take with him into that room,” Carly said.

  “He’s become proficient at coddling their pride and so has made great strides with them. The Cant is proof enough of that.”

  “I’m just glad I’m here with you, Mien’k, Shiela, and the rest. I don’t know what I’d do without the Cant — without any of you.” They lay in the quiet for a bit before Carly added softly, “I hope he’s well enough.”

  Nien was thinking of Wing as well. “I’m sure he is.”

  Carly glanced away and Nien watched the night sky with her, the breeze blowing down the canyon stirring the tree branches overhead.

  “I know he spends most of his time alone because he wants to,” Carly said softly, “and maybe I’m just thinking how I might feel in his situation, but I can’t help wonder how lonely he must be.”

  “He’s been alone most his life, Carly.”

  Logically, everyone knew that Wing spent more time alone than he did with people, even his own family, but since with Wing upon returning from Quieness, Nien understood be
tter than he ever had why that was so.

  Gazing up at the glimmering stars and first moon, Nien said, “Wing is...” Nien paused, searching for the word, “complex. I’ve never had anyone make me so happy, or so...”

  “Sad?” Carly said.

  Focusing on a star, Nien said, “Yes.”

  And as he and Carly fell at last into silence, Nien said to the star: Help us make all this better. Show us a way.

  The sound reached Nien’s ears suddenly. The Cant leaders stopped behind him as Nien tilted his head in the direction of a dull clamour.

  They had camped the second and third evening in the canyon, and the fourth at Vilif Pass. The fifth night they’d spent in a shallow cove not far from where they were now, following a ridge above the valley of Jayak.

  Though Nien knew none of them had ever heard the sounds of actual combat, the sound rising from the valley below was unmistakable.

  “That’s coming from Jayak — this side,” Nien said.

  The others looked at him.

  “A training exercise, maybe?” Teru offered.

  Nien didn’t want to immediately dismiss Teru’s suggestion but he didn’t think so. “Come,” he said. “Let’s take a look.”

  With the other Cant Leaders beside him, Nien made his way to the top of the ridge where he saw, for the first time, the makings of battle. Breast shields and sword blades flashed in the sun. The tangle of thousands and thousands of men would have made distinguishing sides impossible from atop the ridge — except that something less than half the warriors were dressed in dark robes.

  “Ka’ull,” Nien breathed softly.

  “What?” Mien’k and Shiela asked at the same time.

  “Those men,” Nien said, pointing, “the ones in the dark robes. They’re Ka’ull.”

  “How do you know?” Bredo asked.

  “I know. Lant told me about them.” Nien’s eyes were fixed on the battle, he could feel the eyes of the Cant leadership fixed on him. “I’m going down there. Take a closer look.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Bredo blurted.

  Nien glanced at the other Leaders, his friends. “I will not ask any of you to join me.” He turned his sight back toward the valley and the battle. “But I have to go down there.”

  Setting his bedding and food supplies aside, Nien headed down the mountainside. A moment later he found himself joined by Carly and then Mien’k, Shiela, and Teru. In the end, even the most reluctant of them all, Bredo, were following them down the mountain.

  The descent passed for Nien in a heart-racing blur. He couldn’t believe what he was doing, what he was seeing, that he could not stop his feet.

  At the edge of the valley, in a stand of brush trees, he paused briefly.

  Close now, he could see glints of chain armour beneath the dark robes of the Ka’ull as they fought, their sword strikes sharp and powerful. Opposing them, the Jayakans were a splendid sight, their swords bright, movements fluid and open.

  Nien threw a single glance to Carly on his right, Mien’k and Shiela on his left, and then he was stepping out. In a moment so inconceivable that time missed its catch, he drew his sword from its sheath. Brandishing the blade once to assure himself it was real, he met the first metal of an enemy soldier.

  Nien thought the crack of their connecting swords must certainly have shattered both sword and bone.

  Stunned by the force of it, he stumbled back. His hands burned as if they’d been pressed through fire and his ears rang as though the sole receptacle of a smith’s anvil.

  But an instant’s mental check-in found his sword still whole and his arms still obeying his commands. The mere thought-seconds it took for him to take in this information was nearly too much — he only miraculously deflected the Ka’ull’s next blow. Stepping back, the Ka’ull rejoined, and came in again. Nien parried the drive before bringing his sword up in a quick half-moon, feeling it move through cloth, then bone.

  The Ka’ull lurched away, holding an arm inside the dark robe.

  As Nien watched the Ka’ull retreat, a strange, overwhelming sensation flooded his body. Hot and full, he felt sure to drown in the fire of his own rising blood. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It also felt like he’d done it all before. The realization terrified him. The next instant, however, he let the deluge come. He found that it drowned out fear and thought allowing him to simply move, engage…

  Not waiting this time for a Ka’ull to come to him, Nien went on the offensive, driving his sword through a Ka’ull who’d only looked in his direction. It took the whole weight of Nien’s body to drive the sword in. The Ka’ull fell back, taking Nien’s blade with him. Nien readjusted his grip over his sword’s pommel and bracing a foot against the Ka’ull’s thigh, managed to withdraw his sword in time to avoid toppling over himself.

  Bringing his sword back ‘round in front of him, Nien’s blows now landed with precision. Even the bodies of the fallen did not trip up his feet or thwart his motion as he moved around and over them.

  With surprising speed, Nien fought through two more before coming to stand back to back with one of the Jayakan fighters. Startled, the Jayakan raised his sword to strike —

  And paused.

  Nien started to speak to him when the edge of a dark-robed shoulder appeared behind the Jayakan. Nien’s eyes sprung wide and in a move so natural one might have thought they’d choreographed it between them, the Jayakan ducked as Nien swung.

  A Ka’ull fell in a heap at the Jayakan fighter’s feet.

  An instant later, the two were swept apart, caught up in the flow of the battle.

  But there was very little battle left.

  Nien realized that he, with the other Cant leaders, had come in with the battle-tide already in favour of the Jayakans. Now, with the Ka’ull in full retreat, the Jayakans began to shout, their common cry replacing the raking of swords, filling the air from every corner of the battlefield.

  Nien raised his voice with the rest. The tone sang in his chest, numbed his brain, charged his taut muscles with a healing uplift even as his adrenaline began to bleed down. He felt drugged. Intoxicated. In love.

  Like a whisper from the back of a crowded room, it took Nien a moment to recognize the call of his own name.

  “Nien!”

  Nien turned to see Carly coming up behind him. For some strange reason, he noticed blood on her sword, how grey and gooey it looked, but nothing else.

  By the time Carly reached his side, however, the intoxication of the Jayakan’s victory chant had started to clear. A tired breath escaped him. His arms, now dead weights upon his shoulders, fell to his sides and he dropped his nicked and bloodied sword. Beside him Carly leaned upon her own sword as the sound of renewed conflict swept down from a canyon to their left on a rising wind — apparently the fleeing army was being met with battle in that canyon, but by whom Nien did not have time to wonder as the other leaders of the Cant began to stagger their way back into a group.

  Nien could see they were utterly drained. Looking them over, he asked aside to Carly: “Do you see everyone?”

  “Yes,” Carly said, “oh, wait. Where’s Bredo?”

  Reel and Teru began looking around.

  “Mien’k, have you seen Bredo?” Reel asked.

  Mien’k shook his head. Nien turned, scanning the battlefield.

  “He was right behind me,” Shiela said.

  Nien’s eyes narrowed as if squinting might bring their missing member into view. “No one remembers seeing him?”

  Silence prevailed. Nien felt the awful possibility, like a sickness, pool into his stomach. He was still scanning the outer as well as his own inner landscape, when a Jayakan approached him from behind. Carly caught Nien’s attention and motioned for him to turn around. Coming up behind him, Nien recognized the Jayakan whose life he’d saved. The smaller man bowed to him, and Nien responded in kind.

  “Iyak eul flekon.”

  “I don’t understand you,” Nien said, responding in the
Fultershier.

  “We are most grateful to you,” the man restated in the Fultershier. “I am Jiap. And you, Preak, are a long way from home. What brings you to Jayak?”

  “I am called Nien. These are my men. We are from Rieeve.”

  The surprise on the man’s face was impossible to mistake. “Rieeve?”

  “I know our people don’t travel much, but we would like to. We are fighters, like you.”

  The man shook his head, dismayed. “I can see you are not Rieevan. Come with me, man of Preak.”

  “Come? Where?”

  “The battle is over. It is time to meet, eat, take a count.”

  “I can’t. We have lost one of our number.”

  “We have lost many.”

  “ — No, I don’t know if he is dead.”

  “The scouts will look for him.” The man glanced at the other members of the Cant. “And your people can look for him.”

  Nien refused again. “I cannot. I am the leader of this group, and I am responsible for my men.”

  “If your man is not dead, then he has been taken. My men will find it out. Now come.”

  The tone of the man’s voice caused Nien to pause.

  “You should go,” Carly said in Nien’s ear.

  “But not alone,” Mien’k warned. “Carly and I should go with you — at least.”

  Nien nodded to them and turned back to Jiap. “Well enough.” He then spoke to the rest of the Cant leaders. “Look for Bredo. Search this area, he couldn’t have gotten too far in such a short time. We’ll be back.”

  With that Nien turned to follow Jiap, Carly and Mien’k with him. But Jiap stopped. Pointing at Mien’k and Carly, he said, “Not them. Not the Rieevans.”

  “They are my — ” Nien paused, trying to find a word the Jayakan would respect, “ — councilors.”

  Jiap hesitated, and then looking upon the other members of the Cant leadership as if they were insects, said, “Since they fought for us, with you, let them come. But only those two.”

  Nien offered an unfelt nod of encouragement to Carly and Mien’k as he stepped out after Jiap, arriving shortly at a delicate-looking structure. Though quite long, from the outside it did not look tall enough to accommodate even a child’s height. But a door, nearly invisible in the side of the building, opened, and Nien, Carly, and Mien’k followed Jiap down a smooth ramp into a cool, deepening depth. At the end of the very dim tunnel, the ramp widened into a large room. Dug into the earth, the room was surprisingly expansive, framed on the opposite side from where they’d entered with a wall of glass windows that looked out into a garden that rivaled SiQQiy’s palatial gardens and helped ease any claustrophobia Nien might have felt upon descending through the tunnel.