Wing & Nien

by Shytei Corellian

  Wing raised his face and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he looked at Nien and then at Monteray: “Let’s go build this new world.”

  Chapter 79

  Farewells

  “Y

  ou look tired,” SiQQiy said as she and Nien walked out into the night after dinner that evening.

  “I am,” he said. The fatigue in him made his voice soft and mild.

  Monteray had tried to describe to SiQQiy what had happened in the Mietan and had a hard time of it. Thankfully, SiQQiy had understood that words could never adequately describe such things.

  Dinner had been prepared quietly by Wing and Carly and eaten by everyone just as quietly, the usual jocularity that accompanied it absent.

  At the river’s edge, SiQQiy sat down. Nien got down beside her, his movements stiff. Lying back, he stretched out in the grass.

  “So, when are you leaving?” she asked.

  He looked at her with weary eyes. “Soon.”

  “You know I wish you would let Monteray and me send in spies of our own. Trained spies.”

  He touched her cheek. Pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know.”

  Obviously, he was not going to reiterate why he and Wing and Carly would be going anyway.

  SiQQiy forced a smile but her eyes were sad. “Well,” she said, “foolhardy as it is, I suppose you and Monteray are right. No one knows Rieeve as you do; just don’t be…”

  “Stupid?”

  “Brave.”

  Nien laughed. “Never.”

  SiQQiy studied his face, feeling herself flooded with waves of what she could only describe as falling in love.

  “A great change is coming,” she said. “I want to prepare Quieness for it. Your people had their isolationism, the Jayakans a great pride in their skill as warriors, and we Quienans over-confidence in our size and wealth. It would be prudent for each valley to accept its faults and share its strengths before it’s too late for all of us.”

  Nien was looking up at her. “A good lesson for individuals as well as the Valleys.” He sighed. “My whole life I felt something was missing. I traveled to Quieness because I tired of studying religion, but there I found that all life is spiritual, nothing we can see or touch could exist without all of its invisible counterparts.”

  Nien touched her face, and SiQQiy had to close her eyes to contain the emotion it wrought in her.

  “I am ashamed,” he continued, “for many things that I have done. But how could they all have been so wrong when they brought me here, to find Wing again, the Monterays, and you…? The world, I expect, is far more generous and loving than we think it is. I imagine that, with it, as with people, doubting the love there is has caused more hurt than genuine acts of betrayal.”

  Twilight was crawling over his twilight skin as he spoke, briefly distracting SiQQiy in a rush of desire.

  Nien closed his eyes briefly. “I’m still not sure what use I am or can be, but here we are, on the edge of something quite impossible, and though I don’t understand it I am not so bold as to think it all happened by accident.”

  The first moon shone its face full of silvery light over the river and a cool breeze blew down from the high snowcapped mountains of the Ti Range.

  “You are extraordinary,” SiQQiy said, thinking of all he’d shared with her in their time together in Legran, and realizing that, for all of her study, she’d never truly learned anything. “It has been an honour coming to know you.” She clasped his hand in hers and kissed him. “You’re cold.”

  “Really? I was just thinking about shedding a layer. Or two.”

  Caressing his face and neck, SiQQiy pulled back his shirt and pressed her lips into the slant of his shoulder. Wanting to hold him, she placed a leg over him — and caught herself. The last time she’d tried such a thing it had ended badly. Having found Nien asleep in the cabin, she’d come in and gone to playfully straddle him when he’d awoken with a start, pushed her to the floor, and bolted to his feet wild-eyed and terrified.

  “I’m sorry — ” she started to say, but this time Nien stopped her retreat.

  Placing his broad hands upon her ribs and pulling her up so that he lay beneath her, he whispered, “Perfect. Don’t move.”

  This time there was no fear in him, no dark memories swirling behind his eyes. This time, he was the picture of tired contentment.

  Touching her fingertips to his temples, she lost herself in his face as if it were a beloved sculpture. A lover and collector of art, SiQQiy found herself at a loss to remember any of all that which could match the sheer pleasure of seeing Nien’s face. Palace walls and lush gardens, shining armies and robed ambassadors, priceless stones and breathtaking vistas all paled in both experience and feeling…

  But her beautiful work of art was also shivering.

  “We should get you back to the cabin,” she said.

  Sadly, Nien acquiesced. “Let me drop you off at the house.”

  “No. Netalf and Vadet will be waiting for me. They can walk me back.”

  Nien got to his feet and they walked, arms around each other’s waists, across the small expanse between the house and the cabin. At the door, he stopped and they stood, leaning into each other.

  SiQQiy kissed his cheek, whispering, “Sleep well.”

  “And you,” Nien said.

  SiQQiy turned and Netalf and Vadet were there, materializing as it were, out of blades of river grass.

  Walking away with them, SiQQiy glanced back once to see Nien still standing in the doorway of the cabin, his silhouette bathed the warm orange glow of firelight.

  Two days later as morning dawned, Wing and Nien walked the short distance to the Mietan in silence. They were leaving today. Last night, over dinner, Monteray had asked them to come to the Mietan in the morning before they set off.

  At the two grand doors they paused, looking them over melancholically. Each taking a handle, they swung open the doors and stepped into the Mietan together.

  At the far end, they saw Monteray. He looked unusually tall standing with his back to the sun, his shadow falling against the towering wall before him.

  The brothers proceeded toward him quietly; he seemed to not have heard them enter.

  “Monteray,” Wing said quietly. But the Master had heard them come in. He waved them forward.

  The brothers walked across the Mietan and as they stepped around to face him they saw in his hands two sheaths of hard smooth leather inlaid, like the hilts of their swords, with engraved polished metal.

  “These” — Monteray bounced them gently — “are yours.” He handed the sheaths to each of them.

  Wing and Nien looked them over, pausing over inscriptions near the scabbards’ throats. The lettering was in Rieevan. The one Wing held read: Weed Farmer. Nien’s: The Deviant. There was some smaller lettering below the Rieevan words, Weed Farmer, that Wing did not recognize. He was about to ask about it, when a short a short smile tipped Monteray’s mouth. “I hope you don’t mind — I took some liberties.”

  Tears circled the brothers’ eyes like gleaming crescent moons.

  Monteray cleared the lump from his throat. “A sword has never been something I’ve gifted easily, especially ones made with my own hand. To the two of you, however, I have never trusted any blades more.”

  Reaching out, Monteray touched Nien and Wing on the shoulder. “What you’ve been through is…unimaginable. But give the world a little time, it may yet reveal that in every hurt is a healer. Hold on to what you have learned. Hold on to each other. It will see you through.”

  Finding only inadequacy in the words that came to their minds, the brothers each took a knee and, lowering their heads, pressed the hand holding their sheaths to their hearts.

  Monteray inclined his head to them as they stood. “I don’t know what it is that has, for near the whole of my life, tied my life to Rieeve, but I loved Commander Lant as a brother and I look on the two of you as my own sons.”

  Nien and Wing met
Monteray’s eyes and both started to speak at the same time: “Thank you, Master.”

  Monteray chuckled.

  “You’ve been counselor and teacher, new friend and father,” Wing said. “Thank you for everything.”

  Nien gazed down at the scabbard. “I was so afraid of myself when I came here, what I’d seen, what I’d done, everything that had happened. You were patient, you were kind, you were sure. You allowed me to find my way back to myself. Thank you.”

  Emotion pinched Monteray’s throat and he nodded his head to each of them.

  Clutching their sheaths, the brothers bid him farewell then and walked back across the polished floor of the Mietan and out the doors again, wondering if it would be the last time they ever did so.

  Adjusting the long-woven strap of a large duffel, Wing turned to Kate and Tei.

  “Looks like you’re ready,” Kate said.

  Wing glanced at the duffel on his shoulder and laughed. “Yes, this could get us to Rieeve and back again a couple times.”

  “Well good,” Kate said, “because I want you back. Soon as you can.” There were tears in her eyes. “I’ll miss you. I know it’s selfish, but I really wish you’d let Monteray send some our men.”

  Wing set the duffel down and embraced her. “You and Monteray have given me something I thought I’d never have again — a family. We’ll do what we need to go and come back.”

  Kate clasped Wing’s hand and kissed his cheek.

  Wing’s throat tightened briefly with the desire to follow her admonition and just stay — let someone else travel to Rieeve, reconnaissance the valley and get out again.

  From behind Kate, Tei stepped forward. “Bye,” she said. “Have a safe journey.”

  “Thank you, Tei.”

  Tei’s eyes shifted over Wing’s shoulder and he heard Nien call out: “Wing, we’re ready!” The look in Tei’s eyes made Wing’s heart twinge; she was in love with Nien and had, since SiQQiy’s arrival, been forced to watch as his brother and the Empress became close.

  As Nien came to meet them, Tei turned quickly and, brushing a hand across her face, fled into the house.

  “Was that Tei?” he asked, stepping up beside Wing and dropping his duffel.

  “E’te,” Wing said as Nien hugged Kate tightly.

  “Son,” Kate said, and Wing watched as the second woman in as many moments began to cry.

  “We’ll see you again, soon,” Nien said. He looked Kate over. “There are many who do not know the blessing of being loved by their blood family. In my life of adoption, I have known such love not only once, but twice.”

  “Then you had better get going,” Kate said, her eyes reddening, “because I don’t like having my family scattered all over the continent, and the sooner you leave the sooner you’ll get back.” She held out a wrapped bundle and placed it Nien’s hands. “You should take this with you.”

  Nien took the bundle, eyeing it quizzically as he pulled the knotted string free. Inside lay the leather shoulder mantle of the Cant with the symbol of the shy’teh sewn over the left side.

  “The rest of your clothes were too damaged to repair,” Kate said.

  “I’d almost forgotten,” Nien said with a hitch in his voice. He looked up at Kate. “Thank you.”

  As she reached up to touch their faces, Nien and Wing turned their heads and kissed the palms of her hands.

  From the back door, SiQQiy emerged with Netalf and Vadet.

  “I’ll go get Carly,” Wing said, and Kate made her own excuse to give SiQQiy and Nien their privacy.

  SiQQiy leaned in close to Nien, her foot touching his foot, her knee against his leg, her hands upon his belly.

  “Make your reconnaissance of the valley and get out. Come to Quieness. Return with me and my armies.”

  Nien looked at her.

  “Be careful,” she said.

  “I will. When do you leave?”

  “In a few days.”

  Nien rested his forehead against hers with a sigh, his shoulders sagging.

  SiQQiy’s breath touched his cheek. “I know.”

  Closing the thready gap between them, Nien took her to him.

  After a lingering embrace, SiQQiy stepped back, and fixing his golden-flaked gaze whispered, “Not long.”

  “Not long,” Nien replied, and hefting his duffel onto his shoulder, began to move away backwards down the path through the grasses.

  Through the shade of tears in her eyes, SiQQiy laughed as he drew further and further away, still walking backward.

  “You’re going to break your neck!” she called to him.

  Nien flashed her a smile full of teeth and, with a chivalrous nod, turned around to face the path.

  In the distance, he spotted Wing walking down toward the river. A bit farther afield he saw Carly coming out of the cabin. Looking back at Wing, Nien paused. Lucin had appeared like a specter, as he often did, at Wing’s side. The sight of Wing — the familiar gait, broad shoulders, and black hair — wrought a profound sense of home in Nien’s heart. He watched his brother walk to river’s edge and stop, Lucin at his side. Upon river and mountain, Wing cut an impressive image, like the central figure in a vast painting. But there was a longing in the way Wing held himself that mirrored Nien’s own sorrow at leaving Legran.

  Immersing himself in the sight, storing it away like a last meal before a long fast, Nien continued to the riverbank. By the time he arrived, Carly was there as well. It was time to go.

  Passing by the cabin, Nien and Wing’s eyes swept the simple one-roomed timber frame.

  They hadn’t gone far beyond it before catching sight of a young man standing beside the bridge they intended to cross.

  Lucin, skittish, had hurried across the bridge, crouching in the grass at the other side.

  “Call!” Wing said, hailing him. Walking up, he grasped the young man’s arms in salutation.

  “What would the townspeople say if my best friend left without saying goodbye?”

  “I’m glad you came.”

  “There’s something I need to ask you,” Call said, glancing shyly at Carly at Nien.

  “We’ll wait for you on the other side,” Nien said, and he and Carly continued on across the bridge.

  Taking in Call’s concerned expression, Wing asked, “What is it?”

  “I want to come with you,” Call said, “but they’re not having it.”

  “Oh,” Wing said thoughtfully. “There’s not much you could do anyway. More than likely we will not be long.”

  “Well, when we all go back in, in force, I’ll be with you then. I don’t care what anybody says. They won’t be able to stop me.”

  Wing could see his determination. “You sound pretty sure that’s going to happen.”

  “Of course. We wouldn’t all be here if it weren’t.”

  It seemed so obvious to Call. Wing wasn’t sure whether that made him feel better or much worse.

  “From the moment you walked up to me your first day in Legran, I knew — ” Call said, and then hesitated. “I know Jason loved me, but I was always a mystery to him, and frustrating, like I seem to be to most people. But it’s different with you. I felt less odd around you because you understood, and if someone could understand then that meant there had to some sort of precedent, you know?”

  Wing smiled and nodded. “E’te.”

  “I wish there was a way to thank you.”

  Wing thought for a moment, looking for the right words. “Other than delivering the Plan to your uncle, I had no hopes when I came here, even for the continuation of my own life. Though I never told you, I imagine you had surmised as much by our second meeting.”

  Call nodded, a corner of his mouth tipping modestly.

  “But once here I found not only my old family, but a new one as well. I’ve never thanked you for being a part of that. You’re wise and interesting, and it’s been good for me, as well, to have a kindred spirit to talk to.”

  Call’s clear blue gaze shone.

>   Wing took back up his duffel. “I will see you, soon I hope. In the meantime, don’t lose that little book of yours. I imagine there will be a great deal to document in the coming seasons, and I can’t think of anyone better to tell the story.”

  Call smiled, nodded to him, and the two friends said farewell.

  Chapter 80

  On the Ragged Edge

  H e saw them from a distance — a small scouting party of Ka’ull. He’d seen them before, but that had been many turns ago, in the days immediately following the decimation. Since then, it seemed their searches had slowly tapered off, and though the boys had continued to be extraordinarily careful, they had not seen a Ka’ull patrol in the mountains for nearly a season.

  Pree K trembled. He could feel the weight of his father’s sword at his side — he had no intention of using it. Emaciated and weak as he was it would be suicide. His only choice was to slip into the woods unnoticed.

  Still and silent as a fallen leaf, he crept into the heavy underbrush and lay down. His blood ran thin in his prominent veins as he watched them, his head pounding with the strain as terror drained down like acid, turning his stomach to fire.

  Looking this way and that, two of the men began walking downhill, right toward him.

  Pree K’s mind swam with scenarios. He could try and run now. But what if they saw him? Would they bother to follow? Of course they would; they would have to assume that where there’s one there must be more. But what if they caught him? Even if he never broke, even if he never told them there were others or where they were, more soldiers would be called upon to go on the hunt, looking for them.