As his fingers closed about her ankles, her eyes fluttered open in panic and she tried to pull away. What demons she encountered in the moment between sleep and waking, Aiden could only guess, but it wounded him. He wasn’t even aware of the giant moving to his own legs until the braces snapped in place with a wicked click. Then it was too late to act. Even if he’d had the will, he couldn’t tear his eyes from those of the Stravad woman.
“You’d better get some sleep. Morning comes right quick on the plains.”
Aiden broke the stare with Naia to glance at the giant. The beady dark eyes had narrowed in suspicion as if he didn’t approve. As Elvert stomped away, Aiden forced himself to stretch out on the ground on his side, facing Naia. She did the same, her blue gaze studying him. He forced a smile for her.
“I promise we’ll get out of this,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed a moment, then her fingers lifted and traced his lips. Finally she nodded and he knew she’d understood. When the wind howled through the underbrush, she moved closer to him. Aiden didn’t even think as he drew her into the protective embrace of his arms and felt the tension in her body relax. If this was the only comfort left them, the physical and spiritual warmth of another being, then he’d be damned if anyone was going to deny them it.
CHAPTER 6
Raimondi wasn’t a large town, or that’s what Shandar said, but to Amaroq, who’d never been beyond the canyon in Tirsbor, it seemed like the entire world. Buildings rose up around him, two...three stories tall. Horses and carriages and people hurried up and down the streets, always in motion, dodging around each other without making eye contact.
He could read the names on the buildings. His understanding of written Nevaisser was exceptional, but he struggled with the spoken word. People shouted or swore or simply talked too fast for his limited experience.
Shandar had no problem, stopping a small, quick man in a vest and tie, inquiring about lodging. The man sputtered something at him and pointed toward the end of the main road, where a large white house rose, sporting a deep front porch with flower pots hanging from the eaves.
Amaroq exchanged a look with Nakoda. Nakoda shrugged his massive shoulders. He was even more lost than Amaroq – he only spoke Nazarien. Fighting to stave off the waves of emotions battering him, Amaroq eased up to his friend’s side.
“Have you ever seen a place like this before?”
“Once. Remember when I accompanied the Tirsbor commander during my initiation? We went to Dorland. It was larger than this and built on tiers.”
Amaroq’s brows rose. Bigger than this? He’d wind up curled in a fetal position beneath the walkways if there were any more people. His head already ached and his temples throbbed.
Shandar let the little man go, turning to his two companions. He caught Amaroq’s pained expression. “Are you okay?”
“Is there somewhere to get out of this? Is it always so busy?”
Shandar pointed to the white building. “The Golden Ladle has rooms. They’ve also, apparently, got good food and comfortable beds.” He rubbed his lower back. “Something I’m not opposed to finding.”
They walked down the street. Amaroq found himself distracted by the dress of the people. One woman went by with an entire bird perched on her head, its eyes replaced by shining pycantra. Another woman’s backend stuck out so far, it wagged like a tail behind her. Amaroq stopped moving and just stared at her.
Shandar backtracked and took his arm, guiding him up beside him.
Some of the men wore tall hats on their heads, perched precariously on the very top of their skulls. If a strong wind came up, it would blow the hat away. Their shoes shined brightly in the midday sun and their shirts were buttoned to their chins.
Many of them had varying degrees of facial hair. One had a beard that stretched all the way to his belt. Amaroq found that quite intriguing. He scrubbed at his own spotty stubble and wondered if he’d ever be able to grow something that luxurious.
None of them had long hair.
Amaroq drew a lot of attention for his simple attire, designed to blend in with the environment of Tirsbor, all browns and blacks, his soft-soled shoes covered in dust. None of the men had medallions pierced into their ears either. Amaroq touched his star of Eldon and the scythe of the Nazarien, glancing around him.
A few young women caught his eye, staring at him as they passed him on the wooden walkways. They giggled to each other, shooting him shy looks. One of them waved a gloved hand. All three wore hats on their heads and their hair was pulled up, plaited in a bun. Their dresses climbed all the way to their necks as well, sweeping the ground at their feet. Still they intrigued him and he found himself slowing, a smile lighting his face.
That brought more giggles and another gave him a flirtatious wave.
A heavy hand clapped on his shoulder and he glanced up into Shandar’s annoyed expression.
“What did I tell you about pretty wenches?”
“I can’t even look?”
Shandar pointed into the shadows beneath the overhang of a building. Two men were eyeing them, their arms crossed, their expressions hard. Amaroq suddenly felt the wave of their hostility.
“Human men don’t like Stravad men with their Stravad looks panting after their women. Best not to draw attention to yourself, Wolf. You’ll do that enough with your pretty face.”
Amaroq dropped his eyes and followed Shandar to the building called the Golden Ladle. It was three stories tall, painted a brilliant white, with slashes of color from flowers hanging in pots.
Chairs were arranged on the deep porch and a few people occupied them, watching as the strangers approached the gate. One, an older woman with an apron tied around her waist, pushed herself from the chairs and ambled to the stairs, gripping the railing to descend. She smiled pleasantly at Shandar and stopped at the gate.
“Looking for a place to stay?”
Shandar smiled, something Amaroq had rarely seen him do. “Yes, we’d like a room, three beds if you have it.”
Her gaze passed over Amaroq and Nakoda. “Nazarien?”
“Yes.” An edge crept into Shandar’s voice and Amaroq felt the tension rise in him.
“I have no problem with Nazarien. Always leave my place cleaner than when they arrived. Where you coming from?”
As Shandar gave her a brief explanation of their journey, leaving out the part about Naia, Amaroq found his attention snagged by a small green area directly to the right of the Golden Ladle. He remembered from his teachings that Humans called these natural reserves parks and coveted them.
In the center of this park rose a bronze statue. Amaroq wandered toward it, drawn despite himself. He’d seen renderings of statues in his books, but this one looked strangely familiar. When he was close enough to see the statue’s features, he shook his head in amazement. The things these Humans created.
His eyes lowered to the base of the statue and he read the inscription. Nakoda moved up beside him, studying it as well.
“What’s it say?” he asked in Nazarien.
“Talar Eldralin, Protector of the People, May Eldon’s star shine forever on your lives!”
Nakoda grunted. That was one thing Amaroq liked about his lifelong friend. Nakoda never felt the need to wax poetic about anything. Nakoda was a simple man with simple needs. His calm, centered personality suited Amaroq perfectly.
“I have to go inside and sign the ledger,” said Shandar, coming up behind them, then he paused and studied the statue.
Amaroq felt the wave of emotion coming off the older man.
Shandar’s eyes lowered to him. “Interesting bit of art,” he remarked, eyeing Amaroq.
“They built a statue to him, Shandar. They worship him like a god.”
“No, not like a god, but they do honor him.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Shandar flushed with pleasure at the question. “He led the people of Adishian to a haven in Terra Antiguo. He ended the war with Sarkisian.”
&
nbsp; “He was just a man.” Amaroq turned his back on the statue. “I’ll never understand Humans.”
Shandar gave him a disappointed smile. “I suppose not. Come on. We should stick together.” He glanced around, marking the people that stared at them. Amaroq had to put them from his mind or become overwhelmed by their curiosity.
Following Shandar and Nakoda back to the Golden Ladle, he passed through the garden gate and entered his first Human dwelling.
* * *
In the middle of the night, Amaroq rolled out of the soft bed and reached for his trousers, pulling them on. He could see Shandar’s silhouette sitting in the large window seat, staring out the window. The proprietor of the Golden Ladle had given them a room that overlooked the park.
It only had two beds, a small one and a very large one, which he and Nakoda shared. A fireplace occupied the wall across from the door, but they’d chosen not to light it. The night was warm enough without it.
Beyond the two beds, a small table with a lamp on it, and the fireplace, the only other furnishing was the large window with the cushioned seat. Shandar had pulled back the heavy drapes so he could look out, allowing moonlight to filter into the room.
Rising, Amaroq pulled his trousers around his waist and shook back his long, dark hair, then he moved across the room. Shandar looked up at his approach, giving him a smile.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked.
Amaroq shrugged his bare shoulders and sank down in the window opposite the older man. “Nakoda snores worse than you do.”
Shandar laughed.
“Why can’t you sleep?”
“Worrying for your sister.”
“Tomorrow we’ll get information. I’ll spend all day scouring this town.”
“It might be more difficult than you think. I’m not sure we’ll find anyone willing to talk to us.”
Amaroq looked out the window at the small park. It was empty now, but the bronze statue dominated the view. “Does it hurt you that I don’t ask you about him?”
“No, I respect your choice.”
Amaroq looked back at Shandar. The man was little more than a shadow with a hooked nose and a broad forehead. “Do you still miss him?”
“Everyday of my life.”
Amaroq thought about that. If he didn’t find Naia, there would be a gaping hole in his life forever as well. His thoughts went back to the statue, the incongruity of it. “It’s hard for me, Shandar. People build statues to him.” He motioned out the window. “But he was just a man.”
“I know.”
“But no one else seems to. Everyone seems to treat him like a god, like he didn’t have flaws.”
“He had flaws.”
Amaroq considered that. “My mother loved him, didn’t she?”
“I believe she did.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No, it was before us. How can it bother me? It brought you and your sister into my life.” He caught Amaroq behind the neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I wouldn’t trade the last twenty-five years for anything, Wolf.”
Amaroq encircled Shandar’s wrist. “You know you’ve been a father to me, don’t you? No Nazarien has ever had a better man to model himself after.”
Shandar released him. “Where’s this coming from?”
Amaroq glanced out the window again. “I just want you to know. You have been the man I think of as my father. It’s the same for Naia. You aren’t to blame for what happened to her. You’ve protected her her whole life.”
Shandar’s expression grew grim. “I can hardly stand to think of her with slavers. It makes me feel like I’m suffocating.”
Amaroq nodded. “I know.”
Shandar smiled at him. “I guess you do. I’m sorry for projecting that onto you, Wolf.”
“It just mirrors my own worry.” He folded his legs. “Did he love her?”
“What?”
“Did he love my mother?”
“In his way.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Talar loved many women, but he had one true love, one love that eclipsed all the others.”
“Shara Eldralin,” Amaroq said.
Shandar nodded.
He knew Shandar wanted to talk. He sensed as much. Usually, Amaroq avoided all discussions regarding this topic. He’d never felt the need to know. He’d never really cared. Nazarien didn’t know their fathers. It was that simple.
But sitting here in the night, worrying about his sister, Amaroq realized he wanted to hear what Shandar had to say. He wanted to know something of the man Shandar called brother. He’d inadvertently brought Shandar and his mother together, he’d brought Shandar into his life.
“What happened? Why did he leave her?”
“She left him. She chose to stay with the Kazden Cult.”
“Why?”
“I think she knew she was pregnant with you. I think she knew she couldn’t run anymore. She picked stability over her love for your father.”
Amaroq pressed his back against the window. “Did he ever have peace from running?”
“Toward the end. He had a few years in Terra Antiguo, but for much of his life, Wolf, he ran. We both did.”
“And you didn’t resent that?”
“Of course I did. I hated it, but what choice did I have? He was my brother. He was my reason for living.”
Amaroq sighed. “How long were they together? Him and my mother?”
“Months. He rescued her after her mother died. He brought her to live in our boarding house. That was Talar’s way. That was always Talar’s way. It wasn’t long before they were lovers…”
* * *
Kaelene wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted on tiptoes, kissing him under the jaw. He laughed and encircled her waist with his arms, bending to nuzzle her throat. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“I hate it when you go. I worry all the time. Parish said Sarkisian soldiers came through the gates last night.”
“Not for the first time.” He eased her arms from around his neck and kissed her on the forehead. “Nor the last.”
“He said they’re looking for you.”
Talar shrugged, his blind eyes moving past her shoulder as if he sensed something. It made her squirm in apprehension. His focus returned to her. “That would also not be for the first time.”
She caught his hand, pressed it to her breast. “Do you have to go? You could stay here with me today. I’ll teach you how to make jam.”
He smiled. “I wish I could, but they need me at the hospital and I’m afraid I’d just get in your way.” He motioned to his eyes. “I’m not good with cooking in close quarters.”
She released him. She knew when he was determined and it did her no good to argue. “I have a bad feeling, Talar.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Believe me, Kaelene. This isn’t the first time Sarkisian soldiers have entered Kazden. I’ll be fine.”
She watched him leave, standing on the porch as he disappeared around the corner with his brother Shandar in tow. She couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that rose inside of her, but she decided being busy was the best bet.
She went into the kitchen and began cutting the fruit to make her jam. A few of the residents entered, looking for snacks or wanting to get something to drink, but she spent the morning working by herself and enjoying it.
She was so caught up in her job that the hours flew by and she only noticed their passing when their landlady Mistress Alloway entered the kitchen. She was ex-Nazarien, having fled, as Kaelene and her mother had, after her first Procreation Ceremony. All alone, she’d come to Kazden, met Mr. Alloway and raised a family. To make ends meet, she and her husband had opened the boarding house. He took care of the grounds, while she took care of the rest. Mistress Alloway had a particular soft spot for Talar, but Kaelene hadn’t seen many people who didn’t.
“I need to get the midday meal started.”
“I’ll help yo
u,” offered Kaelene, setting aside her pot of jam to cool. As she and Mistress Alloway worked, the other woman stole glances at her. Finally Kaelene met the woman’s gaze. “Is there something wrong?”
“You’ve been sick the last few mornings. I’ve heard you when I’m prepping breakfast.”
Kaelene smiled. “I need to stop sneaking dessert after everyone’s gone to bed. It doesn’t sit well.”
Mistress Alloway smiled in return. “I was the same way my first time. Every time after that, I didn’t have a lick of problems.”
“What?”
Mistress Alloway gave her a frank look. “Seriously child, you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“How long did you live in Tirsbor?”
“Fifteen years.”
“So you left before your first Procreation Ceremony?”
“Yes, Mama didn’t want…” She stopped and a flush crept over her. Placing her hands on her cheeks, she took a step back.
Mistress Alloway caught her arm and led her to a table. Then she brought her a cool glass of water. She pressed it into Kaelene’s hand and urged her to drink, taking a seat across from her at the table.
Kaelene drained the glass, lowering it. “I should have known.”
“We don’t always know our first time.”
Kaelene considered that. She should be terrified, but she wasn’t. She was elated. Her hands crept to her belly and she pressed them there. A baby. Her own child. She’d always loved children. To think of having one with the man she loved…
Kaelene covered her mouth again. “He doesn’t know.”
“Well, you’ll have to tell him.”
Panic washed over her. “What if he doesn’t want a child? What if he gets angry?”
“Have you ever seen that man angry?”
“No, but this...this is a lot to digest. It’ll tie him down, and he doesn’t like to be tied down.”
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 102