The Edge of Hope: Wrak-Ayya: The Age of Shadows Book Eleven

by Roberts, Leigh

“Chief Is’Taqa sent me. One of the hunting parties is back. They saw tracks behind yours, and he wanted you to know that it seems you were followed here.”

  “What kind of tracks?” Oh’Dar asked, his mind spinning. Did Notar follow me here somehow? If he did, it is not likely that he would leave any type of track.

  “A Waschini rider; they said there is no doubt about it. The hoofprints stopped at the far ridge. From there, hidden in the firs, whoever it was could easily have seen you come into the village.”

  “Are there signs they are still in the area?”

  “No,” said Isskel. “There are return tracks, but we lost the trail after a short distance.”

  Oh’Dar’s stomach knotted. Who? Who could have followed me? And why? Louis? No, it could not have been Louis. The Sheriff said Louis was going to where he would never be able to escape. An accomplice? Someone he hired? I understand what Isskel is saying, but just because the tracks went back the way they came doesn’t mean they are not coming back. Maybe with others.

  “Thank you.” Oh’Dar turned and headed for the Chief’s shelter.

  Acise saw him approaching the center of the village and hurried over. “What is wrong?”

  “Change of plans. I need to unload this wagon now. I will talk to the watchers and see what help I can get on short notice. Isskel has told me there were Waschini tracks following me here.”

  Oh’Dar jogged off into the woods. In the distance, Acise could hear the guttural language the People used to communicate between themselves. The tension in her partner’s voice was impossible to miss.

  She ran to tell her father that Oh’Dar was going to bring watchers into the village to help move the wagon. Within moments, Is’Taqa had ordered the village cleared and all the children tucked safely into their shelters with their parents. Little heads popped out to watch as two of the People followed Oh’Dar out of the woods. The two males walked to the front of the wagon and pulled it out of sight into the brush.

  A third watcher had hurried back to Kthama to ask for additional help. High Protector Awan rounded up five guards and sent them running to the Brothers’ village to help Oh’Dar.

  Soon, the collection of males started carrying items from the wagon back up and into Kthama. Before long, the wagon was emptied and the supplies were piled up in the Great Entrance.

  Acaraho walked over to ask Awan what was happening.

  The High Protector explained and added, “We will leave everything here until Oh’Dar tells us exactly where to put everything.

  “Please, on my behalf, thank those who helped.”

  Awan nodded and surveyed the pile of items clustered together on the rock floor. “Interesting,” he said to no one in particular.

  Oh’Dar regarded the empty wagon. I hate to do this, but it has to be done. There is no pretending that this is anything but a Waschini wagon.

  He explained what he needed the watchers to do next.

  Once again, the males went around the front of the wagon and pulled. Oh’Dar led them around the village and down a fair length of the path. Acise and Noshoba were following behind.

  Finally, they arrived at their destination.

  Oh’Dar explained what he wanted, and the watchers set about gathering the largest rocks they could carry and loading them into the wagon bed. Finally, when the wagon was as heavy as it could be without breaking the axles, the watchers regarded Oh’Dar.

  After a few more instructions, the watchers pulled the wagon out into the lake as far as they could bear, their curled lips and frowns attesting to their hatred of water.

  Then they waded around to the back and pushed with all their might. With the water seeping around it, the wagon finally sank out of sight.

  “That was a fine contraption,” said Acise. Oh’Dar sighed and turned to thank his helpers before walking back to the village with her and Noshoba.

  When they reached home, he told Acise, “I have to go to Kthama now. All those materials are no doubt piled up somewhere, most likely in the Great Entrance or the Great Chamber. Do you still want to come with me?”

  “Of course!” she answered. “Let me get a few things, and I will be right along.”

  Oh’Dar and Acise arrived at Kthama after dark. The cold clear night had revealed all the twinkling stars overhead, and the full moon lit their path. They had walked hand in hand where they could and single file where they could not. Simply happy to be together, they spent most of the walk in companionable silence.

  Once inside the Great Entrance, Oh’Dar went over to the pile of items. He was relieved to see that everything had been set down far away from the moisture-dripping stalactites overhead. I should have known they would. Briefly, he reflected that there would not be any simple way to get more supplies with the wagon gone. His grandmother would simply have told him to buy another one, and he would have to if he needed to bring anything else cumbersome from Wilde Edge. Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now.

  He turned to Acise, “Come on, it is late. Now that I know everything is safe, I can deal with it in the morning.”

  After disturbing his parents briefly, Oh’Dar took Acise’s hand and led her to their Kthama quarters. His gaze traveled over the familiar walls and his feet welcomed the feel of the rock floors.

  Oh’Dar opened the wooden door of their quarters, and they stepped inside. Both sank into the puffy bed, and for a moment, he simply stretched out next to Acise. Then he turned, remembering her promise for their night together, only to find her sound asleep. He leaned across to pull the hide blanket over them, and his last thought before he drifted off to sleep was home. Home again at last.

  News of the exciting pile of items in the Great Entrance had quickly traveled through Kthama. Many walked around the perimeter, not touching but trying their best to peer into the middle to see everything. Most of it was packed up, however, which thwarted their curiosity. They talked among themselves about several of the unwrapped items, trying to imagine their purpose.

  After a night of much-needed rest, as Oh’Dar and Acise walked into the Great Entrance, several of the older offspring came running over. “What is this? And this? And what is in this?” they asked, pointing to various objects in the pile.

  “You will all see soon enough,” Oh’Dar chuckled. “But some of it is a surprise for my grandparents!” Then he looked around. “Is Nasha here?” Nasha poked her head out and squeezed her way to the front.

  “Here I am,” she smiled.

  “I need your help. You and Snaven. Where is Snaven?”

  The offspring raised her hand.

  “Great. I need you both to keep my grandparents busy for a while this morning. Do you think you could do that? Starting after first meal?”

  “Oh, yes, Oh’Dar,” they chimed together. “We can do that!”

  “Thank you. Later on, I will tell you what this is about, but for now, I just need you to keep Miss Vivian and Ben busy.”

  Nasha, Snaven, and a few others all nodded and scampered off to the Great Chambers, hoping to find the grandparents and get on with helping Oh’Dar.

  “I am also curious to see what this is about,” said Acise.

  “You will. I just pray it does what I think it should.”

  A flurry of activity took place while Nasha and Snaven had Oh’Dar’s grandparents distracted.

  It was not a difficult task to keep them busy, as Miss Vivian and Ben had promised to spend time teaching the class the Waschini names for more of Etera’s creatures. It had turned into a type of game, with each offspring coming to the front, and with the chalk, drawing an animal for which he or she gave the People’s name, after which Ben or Miss Vivian spoke the Waschini name and wrote it out. Then the young ones took turns mimicking the Waschini pronunciation, and in turn, Ben and Miss Vivian tried the People’s word for the animal. It was great fun as sometimes the offspring argued over what animal had just been drawn. Ben and Miss Vivian smiled at the commotion as one or another tweaked the drawing until it better resemble
d what it was supposed to be, and consensus was reached.

  Under Oh’Dar’s direction, a group of females, including Adia and Acise, helped to finish up the finer touches after the males had done their part. Finally, Oh’Dar stepped back and surveyed the scene.

  He put an arm around Acise and kissed the top of her head. He put his other arm around his mother’s waist.

  “They are going to love it. I see now,” Acise said. “It reminds me of how my mother described her childhood in the Waschini house, though I imagined it a bit differently.”

  “One last thing,” Oh’Dar said. And he walked across the room and fiddled with a wooden contraption sitting on top of one of the new items he had brought in.

  The females exchanged questioning glances and then looked at what Oh’Dar had done.

  Tick, tick, tick. The sound of the mantle clock that had sat on the top of the sideboard in the dining room at Shadow Ridge was the perfect finishing touch.

  “What is that?” Adia asked.

  “It is what they call a clock. See these little metal sticks. They move around this flat round thing with the symbols on it, and they mark time. From them, the Waschini can tell what time it is,” he tried to explain.

  “Time? How can you mark time? It is always moving,” said Adia. “And where would you start? Time has always been, has it not?”

  “It is a strange concept,” he agreed. “Someday, I will try to find a better way to explain it.”

  One of the females who had moved outside to stand watch poked her head back in. “They are coming!”

  She stepped in, and all the females moved into the food preparation area, which had not been part of the transformation. They were just in time for Oh’Dar’s grandparents to enter.

  Miss Vivian’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my,” she exclaimed. “Oh my,” she said again as she looked around the room.

  The first, most obvious thing was the fine wooden bedstead and soft covered mattress that had replaced their sleeping mat. Then she turned to the wooden dresser, upon which was perched her favorite teacup. Next to the bed was a nightstand, on top of which Ben’s reading glasses lay beside an oil lamp. On the other side of the bed, a set of lace curtains was attached to the rock wall. Though there was no window behind them, it gave the appearance that there was. It was oddly comforting.

  Miss Vivian turned to Oh’Dar with tears in her eyes. “You did this? You brought all of this back from Wilde Edge?” she stammered.

  Oh’Dar wrapped his arms around his grandmother. “I know it’s not as fine as Shadow Ridge, but I’m hoping it will help some,” he said into her ear.

  She pulled away and looked over at her husband.

  “Oh, Ben. Look what Oh’Dar did.” Then she turned to the others in the room. “What you all did. Oh, thank you so much!”

  Some in the room understood her Waschini words. Those who did not, needed no translation. They could see how happy she was, and they were glad to have been a part of bringing Oh’Dar’s grandparents such joy.

  Ben put an arm around Oh’Dar’s shoulder. “Thank you for doing this for us.”

  “Wait,” Miss Vivian said. She held a finger up as if signaling for silence. Then she spotted the clock on the low dresser at the other side of the room.

  “It’s running!” she exclaimed. Some of the females looked at each other in confusion.

  “Of course, we have no idea what time it really is,” she said as she walked over to the mantle clock. “Perhaps that’s just as well. I see now how structured our lives were. Out of rhythm with the natural order of life, now that I know better. But I do cherish the familiar sound. Thank you again, everyone,” she said.

  Mapiya rounded up the females except for Adia and Acise and shooed them out, wanting to give the grandparents a chance to enjoy their surprise without a crowd watching them.

  After everyone had taken another look at the new things, Miss Vivian reached across and touched her daughter-in-law’s hand. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright?”

  “Yes, I feel fine. I have no problems at all,” Acise answered.

  Once they were finally alone, Ben and Miss Vivian went over and sat on their new bed.

  “So this is why he had to take the wagon,” said Ben.

  “I hate to admit it, but I’m so happy to have a real bed again,” Miss Vivian smiled. “And a mattress!”

  “Of all the things he could have brought us, I think it was the most helpful. Oh, and the oil lamp,” Ben added. “What a comfort it will be in the dark of night.”

  “I’ll be anxious to get back here tonight now.” She ran her hands over the smooth linens and soft blankets.

  “How much we took for granted,” said Ben. “And despite this, how much we didn’t really need at all to be happy.”

  Miss Vivian got up from the bed and went over to her beloved clock. She fingered the fine dresser scarf on which it was resting. Curious, she slid open one of the drawers to find an assortment of yarns and some knitting needles. “Oh,” she exclaimed. “Mrs. Thomas must have told Grayson that I used to knit. What a nice surprise. And look, writing paper, a little ink well, and some quills!”

  Holding up one of the quills, she turned back to Ben, who was still sitting on the bed. “Perhaps I should start a journal,” she mused.

  “That’s a good idea. It would be interesting someday in the future to go back and remember how it was when we first came here.”

  Miss Vivian replaced the quill and picked up a little paper bag. She peeked inside, “Oh Ben, it’s your favorite hard licorice candy!” She replaced the little bag and slid the drawer closed.

  “Now we can stop living out of those trunks,” she exclaimed. “Tomorrow, we can take out what we brought, go through it, and organize it properly. That in itself will be a great relief.”

  Miss Vivian returned to the bed and sat down beside her husband. “Are you still happy we came?” she asked.

  Ben reached up and smoothed from her forehead a stray strand of beautiful auburn hair. “Yes, I am. Here, I have a chance at doing something no one else has ever done. Even though no one will ever know, and even if we had anyone to tell, they’d never believe us. I don’t yet understand all that’s truly going on here; it will take time. But that does not take away from its importance. Oh, my dear, what an adventure, yes?”

  Miss Vivian leaned over and sweetly kissed him. “Yes. And Grayson’s wife is with child! Soon there will be another little Morgan running about. Oh, I can’t wait to hold him—or her!”

  Their conversation was interrupted by the clack of the announcement stone.

  “Come in!” Miss Vivian called out, knowing that the People now recognized that phrase as permission to enter.

  Pakuna stuck her head in and made the sign for eating. Miss Vivian nodded and smiled, and Pakuna retreated. It was time to join the others at evening meal.

  The People were adjusting to the grandparents’ presence. Mothers and fathers had quickly corrected their offspring, who had now stopped continually visiting their table and interrupting their meal. Ben and Miss Vivian welcomed the visits, but the parents were concerned it would become annoying over time.

  That evening, however, the Waschini grandparents were not the center of attention. Instead, everyone was focused on the presence of a tall, muscular, and remarkably handsome male who wore a stylized hide cape of some type and had joined Acaraho and Adia at their table.

  “Who’s that?” Miss Vivian whispered to Oh’Dar.

  “That’s Khon’Tor. He was the Leader here and is visiting for a while.”

  “He and your father look similar,” said Ben. “Except this one has that striking white streak running from his crown toward the back of his head.”

  “They’re related. Both are of the House of ‘Tor,” Oh’Dar explained.

  The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant conversation, during which Oh’Dar explained that before too long, a High Council meeting would be held at Kthama. Ben and Miss Vivian unde
rstood the concept and seemed excited at the thought of seeing such a gathering of the People’s Leaders. When he explained that it would include the Brothers’ Leaders, their excitement doubled.

  “I found the knitting and writing materials; thank you,” Miss Vivian added.

  “That’s not all I brought back. Tomorrow I’ll show you where the rest is stored, along with oil for your lamp. There’s more than enough to last for years. If you remember, I said I was asked to write down the People's history, so it’s no longer only passed along by word of mouth. The one you noticed, Khon’Tor, he’s the one who asked for this. He stressed that it needed to be accurate and not censored or edited in any way.”

  “So there are some aspects which are perhaps not flattering to particular people?” she asked.

  “Yes. And I was thinking, Grandmother, that perhaps the best person to do this would be you. These writings are meant for the future, that the coming generations will know the truth of what happened. That’s why my people have to learn what we call Whitespeak. They have to learn to speak and write as we do, then they won’t be held hostage to stories that have been twisted or partially forgotten over time. The white language is complex, able to express in great detail. The People’s written markings are general and carry only a rough outline of concepts.”

  “We understand, son,” Ben said. “From what you told us on the trip here, there was tremendous misunderstanding about the past.”

  “Yes. But the truth can be unflattering—painful even. Grandmother, you’d be neutral. You wouldn’t even know most of the individuals, so those telling their story would be far less guarded.”

  Miss Vivian reached across the table and laid her hand on her grandson’s arm. “Whatever I can do to help you, I will.”

  That settled, Oh’Dar explained that he and Acise would be returning to the village for a while but that he would be back for the High Council meeting.