Tuli sat beside her. “One of them. We were five. Our oldest brother, three girls, then Xico, my baby brother.”
Breathing in shallow gasps, Tereka stared over at the fire. She couldn’t decide what to ask first. Tuli leaned toward her. “You probably want to know what he was like. He had your same build, darker hair. Bright green eyes and that same golden skin as yours. He was one of those people who thought he was invincible, that he could do anything. The problem was, he was usually right.”
“Really?”
“He was good at anything he tried. We teased him a lot, especially Tikul, our oldest brother. I think all that teasing made Xico try harder.” She smiled wistfully. “I’ll never forget the first time he picked up a bow. Tikul set up the target and showed him how to shoot. Xico’s first attempt went wide of the target. We all laughed, said he was too little to shoot.”
“What did he do?”
“What he always did. He watched us all take a turn. He studied every move we made. Then when it was his turn again, he hit dead center in the target. Just six years old.”
Tereka smiled. “Tell me more, if you please.”
“He became the best archer in the camp. The best hunter and tracker. And woodcarver. Whatever he tried to do, he made sure he was the best.”
“Was there anything he couldn’t do?”
“There were things he never attempted, or at least never let on that he tried them. I never saw him pick up a fiddle or try to mend a shoe.”
“And my mother was a villager?”
Tuli nodded. “Yes.” She sat staring into the fire for a few moments. She looked so sad Tereka didn’t want to ask her any more questions.
“So scared, like a little rabbit, your mother. I thought so the first time I saw her, and again when she came to Veressa’s wedding.”
Her mother was at a Risker wedding that Da had persuaded her to attend. What a confusing story. Riskers and villagers were strictly forbidden to socialize. The only contact allowed was through specially licensed traders, like her da. No one else. Everyone understood the terms of the treaty. Everyone.
Except, apparently, her mother and her father’s family. She was born to criminals and Da had taken her in. Given her a family that really wasn’t hers. She sighed when she thought of Tirk. They weren’t siblings at all. He wasn’t even her half-brother. She rubbed her head, wondering if anything she knew was true.
“You look tired,” Tuli said. She ushered Tereka to a seat by the fire, a high-backed wooden armchair lined with cushions. Tuli placed a footstool under Tereka’s feet and handed her a mug of tea. “Just rest a bit. Chen and I have work to do. We’ll talk whenever you like.”
Tereka barely noticed when Tuli left the house to go find Chen. She leaned back in the chair and let her eyelids droop. Her thoughts scrambled like beaten eggs, mixing truth and falsehood into a blurred mess.
She rubbed a hand over her face. She refused to believe any of it. She drained the tea, then set the mug on a small table nearby. Riskers knew how to be comfortable. She rested her head against the cushions of the chair and stared into the fire. Her da wasn’t her da. Her da was a Risker. She closed her eyes. It couldn’t be true.
The bang of the door startled her. She must have dozed off, as the room was now dimly lit. Tuli was bustling around, lighting candles. She set a metal candlestick with five arched branches on the table, a lovely piece with engraved ivy leaves.
Such luxuries they had. Tereka shook her head, thinking of the crude pottery candlesticks they used in the villages.
“Are you hungry?”
Tereka wasn’t sure if the question was directed at her or Chen, who was pulling his boots off.
“Come, sit.” Tuli pointed with a large knife at the table.
Was she about to see some Risker savagery? Her pulse throbbed as she warily approached the table and took a seat on the bench. And nearly gasped when Tuli carved a slice of cheese. After all she’d seen, she didn’t know why this was surprising.
Chen sat across from Tereka. “I had a time of it, keeping Veressa from running right over here.” He peered into Tereka’s face. “Thought you might have met enough relatives for one day, hmm?”
She nodded and rubbed her chin. It seemed the barbaric Riskers could be sensitive.
Tuli pushed a plate piled high with slices of cheese, cold meat, and bread toward Tereka. “Let’s have some supper, shall we? I wouldn’t want your grandparents to think I’d starved you.”
As he had before, Chen raised his hand and gave thanks to the sky-god. Tereka swallowed hard, realizing this no longer felt as alien to her. She ate in silence, listening to Chen and Tuli talk about their children, their farm, and life in the camp. Tereka realized this was their way to let her know about the family she never knew she had without making her ask. For which she was grateful. She wasn’t sure she could collect her thoughts enough to know where to begin.
When they’d finished eating, Tuli stacked their plates. “I’ll show you where you can sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”
“Thank you.” The confusion that had seethed within her earlier came back to a boil. “But I doubt I’ll be able to sleep.” She tried to contain her anger, but the words forced themselves out of her mouth. “It’s not often you find out the man you thought was your father has lied to you every day of your life.”
“Before you pass judgment and find him wanting, I think you should know the whole story. Please, Tereka,” Tuli said. “There’s much more to this than you know.”
Tereka knew Tuli was trying to reassure her, but all the words did was give her more to wonder about. She blushed when Tuli led her into a sleeping room with not one, but two beds. Wooden frames supported thick pallets wrapped in smooth linens, finer than anything she’d ever slept on. She couldn’t imagine what the pallets were filled with. It was softer than straw and made no crackling noise when she moved. Within a few minutes, whatever was stuffed in the pallet reflected her body heat, giving her enough warmth for the rainy summer night. She ran her hand over the cloth and felt a tiny sharp protrusion. She pulled at it until she held it between her thumb and forefinger. It was a tiny gray feather, soft and delicate.
“Who are these people?” She stroked the feather. “Are these the same Riskers I’ve been taught to shun and mock?” Their food was savory and rich, their home filled with comfort and color. And the love Chen and Tuli had for each other was plain to see. Just what she was beginning to think she’d like to have with someone. Maybe Kemet. He seemed so far away. She turned over, letting her head sink into the soft pillow. The warmth of the bed and her fatigue were more powerful than her desire to stew over everything she’d learned that day. Within moments, the soft patter of the raindrops on the roof had lulled her to sleep.
24
Bright sunlight shining right into her face woke Tereka. She opened her eyes, not certain at first where she was. She shifted, relishing the soft warmth that embraced her. What was she lying on? It wasn’t a bag of straw that crackled and pricked with every move.
Then it came back to her. She was in a Risker’s home. The Riskers didn’t seem to be savages. Her father was a Risker. Her mother had been a villager who married a Risker. I’m half Risker, half savage barbarian. She had the sensation of walking through deep snow, never knowing what was underneath. Her next step could be on smooth ground or send her plunging into a ditch. Would she keep moving forward or fall on her face?
She lay cradled in the bed, feeling like a small child in her ignorance, as if she needed to relearn everything she’d been taught. Pulling the blanket closer around herself, she wished she never had to get out of that bed.
The smell of frying meat and the sound of gentle laughter coming from the next room triggered hunger for food and answers. Somehow, she’d find a way to reconcile what she’d always thought to be true with what she was seeing now. She rose and dressed quickly.
Opening the door, she surveyed the room, the sunshine flooding the room illuminati
ng details she’d barely noticed the day before. Her first impression was light streaming through the large windows. Chen must be the ephor or whatever they called the ruler of the camp, to have such big windows with glass in them. And the house had at least four rooms, more than most villagers.
A large oven stood in one corner of the room. Cheery red curtains hung to the sides of the windows, with a handy shelf under one of them. A row of little pots lined the shelf, all with some kind of herb, adding a note of greenery.
Tuli stood by the fire, wearing a pale yellow dress with a white apron. How many dresses did she own? Tereka watched her work for a few minutes, wondering about the tantalizing smell. Uncertain of the proper way to greet someone, she sidled into the room. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you, niece.” Tuli turned with a broad smile and wrapped her arms around Tereka, still holding a spoon in her hand. “Sit. I’ll have breakfast ready in a minute.”
Chen smiled at Tereka from his seat at the table. “Looks like we had quite a downpour last night. Tarkio will have a muddy walk to Zafrad.”
Tereka chose not to say anything. She didn’t want to think about the man who had pretended to be her father. She sat down facing Chen, who took the mug of tea Tuli held out to him and drank. “So, Tereka, would you like to meet more of the family? They’ve waited many years to meet you.”
“I’m sorry.” Tereka shrugged. “I never knew you existed. Any of you.”
Tuli put a hand on her shoulder. “No need to apologize. You didn’t know.” She placed a bowl filled with thick porridge in front of Tereka and pointed to a plate on the table. “If you’d like, you can add nuts or apples. And honey, of course.”
The steam rising from the porridge carried an odor like fresh bread and Tereka’s mouth watered. All they got in the village for breakfast was thin, watery gruel that tasted like paper. She reached for the plate with the nuts and chopped fruit.
“And I almost forgot.” Tuli stepped to the fire and returned a moment later with a plate lined with strips of fried, fatty meat.
“That’s the best part, woman.” Chen speared one of the strips with his fork and took a bite.
Tereka wrinkled her nose. No matter how delicious it smelled, she wasn’t about to eat warboar.
Tuli drew her eyebrows together. “I’m sorry, you don’t like pekoni?”
“I’ve never had any.” Tereka eyed the plate. “What is it?”
“Pekoni? It’s cut from a pig’s belly and cured in salt.” Chen took another bite. “You mean you don’t have pigs in the villages?”
“We do, but the meat is boiled and made into stew.”
Chen waved at the plate. “Help yourself, before I finish it off.”
Tereka used her fork to spear a piece and nibbled off a corner. Her eyes widened and she took another, larger bite, crunching the meat between her teeth. She’d never tasted anything so rich. She put her elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand. Her initial delight ebbed and tears stung her eyes. What other simple pleasures did the Riskers have? Her face grew hot as her sadness surged into anger. How dare the Prime Konamei and his minions deny the people such things?
“It’s confusing, isn’t it?” Tuli said. “We aren’t what you’ve been told.”
“You have no idea.” She covered her face with her hands.
“If you’d rather, I can let Veressa know you’re not up for meeting her today,” Chen said softly. The gentleness of his tone brought another prickle of tears. She nodded. “But, won’t she— ”
“Be offended?” Chen smiled and shook his head. “No. She’ll understand.”
Tereka wasn’t sure she understood. “If you please, I’d like to meet her.”
“Then I’ll fetch her while you eat.”
After Chen left, Tuli handed Tereka a pitcher full of hot water. “It won’t be the same as a visit to the bathhouse, but you’ll be able to have a bit of a wash.” She carried a basin and towel into the room Tereka had slept in and called over her shoulder. “You’ll need to get on with it if you want to be ready before your aunt comes.”
Her aunt. She had three aunts. Tereka shook her head and followed Tuli into the sleeping room, pitcher in hand. She made quick work of washing herself, wondering what a Risker bathhouse would be like. She’d never imagined they would even have such a thing. If Tuli’s house was any indication, the bathhouse would be luxurious beyond imagining.
She dug through her pack to find a clean shift and leggings. There was nothing to be done with her travel-stained dress, so she put it back on and ran a comb through her chin-length hair.
A heartbeat after she’d finished, a scraping sound told her the front door had opened. “Where is she?” a musical female voice asked.
Veressa. Tereka bit her lip and squared her shoulders. She marched to the door to the kitchen and pushed it open.
A woman stood next to Tuli, the family resemblance obvious. Vivid blue eyes, dark glossy hair, a tall, graceful build. Veressa’s hair coiled around her head in a wide braid, a few loose strands framing her delicate features. Her face broke into a wide smile. “Tereka. At last.” She stepped toward Tereka, her hands held out.
Instead of the impulsive hug Tuli had given her, Veressa gently folded Tereka into her arms. She slid her hands down Tereka’s arms and took her hands as she stepped back. “You are exactly as Tuli said. So much like Xico.” Her eyes glittered, and she touched the corner of one.
Tereka opened her mouth, then closed it. What could she say? She wasn’t sure if she was pleased to meet another Risker relative or not. Veressa spared her the effort.
“I’m sure this is overwhelming. Come sit. Tuli, I think I’d like some tea.”
Within a few moments, Tereka was seated opposite Veressa in front of the fire, listening to her talk about her husband, Lilio, and her seven children.
“My children, of course, know nothing about you.” Veressa tipped her head toward Tereka. “And neither do Tuli’s.”
“They don’t?”
Veressa shook her head. “Oh no. There was such trouble when your parents fled. We were watched for years. It wouldn’t do for word to get around that Xico’s daughter was alive.”
Tuli pulled up a chair and sat down, a half-knitted scarlet sweater in her hands. Deftly, she worked her knitting needles as she spoke. “Many years passed before Kaberco eased up his scrutiny of people who passed in and out of the Risker camps in the north. He never was certain if you’d lived or died.”
Tereka bit her lip. Was that why Da had been so secretive? She felt a pang in her chest. Maybe she shouldn’t call him Da anymore, but she’d done it her whole life. How could she get used to calling him anything else?
“I’m sure you want to know about your parents.” Veressa tipped her head to the side and lifted one shoulder in half a shrug. “I wish I could tell you about your mother but I married just about the time she met Xico and moved to this camp right away.” She dabbed her eye. “They were married and gone before I knew what had happened. I never got to say good-bye to my little brother.”
When Tuli offered Tereka a mug of tea she was glad for the distraction. She didn’t know how to respond to Veressa’s obvious pain over the loss of her brother, even so many years later. It mirrored the empty spot in her own heart that she’d kept for Aito and Tirk. The warmth of the tea eased the dryness in her mouth enough that she could get a question out. “Why did my father marry a villager?”
Veressa and Tuli exchanged glances. Tuli set the teapot on the table. “That’s not something we can answer, other than that he loved her.”
“It may have been a little more than that.” Veressa wrapped her hands around her mug. “I was the quiet one in the family, the one the others told things to. Not that they didn’t trust all their brothers and sisters, it’s that everyone else always talked so much it was sometimes hard to get the words out.” She smiled. “I think I’m the only person Xico ever told about his doubts.”
“Doubts?”
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“Xico walked in a cloud of confidence. Every step, every gesture seemed to say, ‘I can do anything.’ As he grew older, we started to believe it. But a few times, he told me he wasn’t always so sure.”
“Like when?”
“The first time he went on patrol.” She must have read confusion on Tereka’s face because she explained. “Our patrols travel the paths that lead up the mountain to our camp, and any other ways bandits could approach. They keep the bandits in check and kill warboars that might threaten the villages.”
“He had doubts about my mother?”
Tuli laughed. “No, he was certain about her from the day of Veressa’s wedding.”
Veressa nodded. “What he told me was that when he was with her, he knew he could do anything. As if she gave him the confidence we all thought he possessed.”
Tereka sipped her tea. So that could explain Xico’s decision. But her mother’s? Which led her to another thought. “You fight bandits and warboars to protect the villages. Why would you do that for people who consider you— ” She couldn’t bring herself to use the words.
“Savage barbarians?” Veressa smiled. “Because we’re following the terms of the treaty. We help protect the villages and stay away from them. They leave us alone and allow limited trading. A few unfounded insults don’t bother us.”
Tereka frowned and rubbed her chin. She’d known about the treaty that decreed villagers and Riskers stay away from each other. “Why didn’t your ancestors want to follow the rules?”
“Because they didn’t think any government could guarantee safety from every possible danger. They saw no reason to sell our liberty for a promise that couldn’t be kept.” She leaned forward to look closely at Tereka. “The Prime Konamei established many rules designed to keep the people safe. Well-meaning, no doubt, but we preferred to have the freedom to choose for ourselves, to take risks for things we thought were worth it. The treaty was the only way to ensure we could live as we pleased, and to allow the Prime Konamei to rule as he saw fit.”
Flicker of the Flame: A YA Epic Fantasy Page 13