Eldon help him, he intended to see that no one frightened Naia ever again. He wouldn’t allow her to be hurt or scared; he would protect her. He would make sure of that, no matter what it took.
Aiden stood for a moment, looking down on the dead woman. She’d been a constant presence on Naia’s left for weeks now, but the situation in the slave camp had been so bizarre, he’d never learned her name. Any time he’d been given the chance to speak, he centered his attention on the two people who meant the most to him and ignored everyone else.
Now he wished he at least knew her name so he could say a prayer for her when he buried her. No one should die nameless and alone. At least she’d died free. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
He didn’t allow himself to think that their escape, their many hours in the frigid water, had probably brought about her death. What did it matter? Months more as a slave or a few hours as a freewoman. Aiden didn’t even need to think about his choice.
He bent beside her and grabbed her cold arm. Grimacing, he pulled her onto his shoulder and carried her under the evergreens. He had nothing with which to dig a grave, so he contented himself with piling stones over her corpse. Even though it wasn’t much, it took him the better part of three hours to complete.
Afterward, he returned to the riverbank where he’d left Naia and Le. Naia looked up at him. She was sitting calmly before the water, weaving a basket from grasses she’d found growing close by. Le was wandering the bank, searching for berries.
Aiden flashed Naia a smile and dropped to his knees beside her, splashing water on his dirt streaked, sweat stained face and neck. He felt Naia’s eyes on him and turned, allowing his gaze to run over her.
She smiled at his appraisal, then glanced over her shoulder at the boy. Aiden followed her line of vision, then motioned at her basket.
‘There are many roots,’ she said, moving her hands slowly. ‘I get so we eat.’ Inexplicably her eyes brightened, dancing with excitement. ‘I see soap root growing in the bank. We bathe soon.’
Aiden shared her radiant smile. Nothing would feel better than a bath. Then her smile died.
‘You...’ Her motions faltered, her eyes taking on their glazed, agonized look.
Aiden knew what she was thinking and he moved forward, taking her hands in his. He forced her to look into his face. “She died a freewoman,” he said, searching her eyes to see if she understood him. “She died a freewoman, Naia.”
She sucked in a ragged breath, tears glistening on her lashes. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to compose herself. Aiden pulled her into his arms, holding her close. They’d seen so much death in the last few weeks, it didn’t seem right that they should witness more, especially now when there was so much to live for. Still he was glad they’d made their escape, and he was glad they’d taken the other woman with them even if it cost her her life.
Then he was aware of Naia cradled against him. She lifted her head and licked at a tear that glistened on her lips. Aiden followed the motion, wanting desperately to do the same. Dirty as she was, her black hair tangled, her clothing threadbare and torn, he’d never seen a more desirable woman and he wanted her at that moment with a passion that surprised him. He never remembered wanting any woman the way he wanted her.
He cast a half-glance at the boy meandering down the bank. Le’s back was to them. Returning his attention to the woman in his arms, Aiden lowered his head. It was far beyond time to claim a kiss from this woman who’d stolen his heart.
But Naia pulled back, the anguished look returning to her eyes. She turned and lifted her head. Aiden followed the motion, trying to see what she saw. In the distance rose a jagged expanse of rocky mountains.
His brow furrowed in confusion.
Naia looked back at him, then she swallowed hard. She motioned toward the boy and then her mouth. Aiden felt disappointed. Maybe she didn’t feel about him the way he felt about her. He’d believed he saw something more in her frequent looks, but maybe he’d only wanted to see it so badly, he’d fooled himself. The thought was staggering.
All this time he’d known there was something special between himself and this woman. He’d begun to believe they were meant for each other, and he’d even vowed he’d do everything in his power to keep them together if they escaped slavery. Now that they had, he’d never stopped to consider she might not feel the same, that she might not be grateful for any sacrifice he was willing to make on her part.
“Le.”
The boy turned at his voice and picked his way back over the bank. He dropped to his knees before Aiden and Aiden couldn’t help but smile. Le’s entire mouth and tongue were purple from the berries he’d eaten.
Naia’s face also broke into a smile and she reached out to tousle Le’s hair.
“I hope you don’t get a stomach ache,” said Aiden with mock severity.
Le’s eyes widened a moment, then he laughed. His genuine laughter eased some of the ache in Aiden’s wounded heart. “Did you want something?”
Aiden nodded at Naia. “I think she wants you to translate for us.”
Le made hand motions at Naia and then waited for her response. Aiden could piece together many signs, but not enough to get the full nuance of a conversation. He hated admitting there was this much distance between himself and the woman he loved. They were never able to have an intimate conversation because Aiden didn’t know enough signs, and he wasn’t willing to share his private feelings with Le. Although he was beginning to wonder if these feelings weren’t one-sided.
* * *
Naia could see the anxiety on Aiden’s face. What did he think she was going to tell him? True, she didn’t like her information herself, but it would only bode well for him. He had little to lose and much to gain. She on the other hand…
Naia made the necessary motions with her hands, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’d come to love this Human King. She’d never thought such intense emotions possible, but she knew differently now. What made it more difficult was the fact that Aiden felt something for her in return. She could see it in the way he looked at her, in the misery of his expression right now.
Still he was King of Dorland. There was no place in his life for a Nazarien woman. She couldn’t go to Dorland, not that he would ever consider taking her, and once she returned to Tirsbor, she would belong to the Nazarien again. Her mother and Shandar, her brother, all waited for her. They had always been enough in the past. They had to be enough now.
She forced her thoughts away and concentrated on communicating with Le. The boy was so quick, so intelligent. He sensed her hesitation and asked her what was wrong. She motioned that everything was fine.
Le turned to Aiden, a worried look on his face.
“What, Le? What does she say?”
“Naia believes that we’re two days walk from the Nazarien outpost of Tirsbor. She’s guessing at the distance, but the outpost is in the heart of those mountains.” Le pointed over his shoulder at the jagged mountain range.
Aiden flashed Naia a radiant smile. She forced a smile in return and bowed her head. Glancing at Le, Aiden placed a hand under Naia’s chin and lifted her face until their eyes met.
“What’s wrong?”
Naia saw the excitement in his eyes, knew he deserved it.
“Won’t they help us? Aren’t they your people?”
Naia smiled again. ‘Yes, they will help you. You’re the King of Dorland.’ Le translated as she signed. ‘Likely, they’ll help you return to Dorland, give you as many warriors as you need to secure your kingdom.’
“But?”
She drew a deep breath. How did he know there was a but without hearing it? ‘Things will be different once we reach Tirsbor.’
“What things?”
She glanced at Le. How did she speak about love through a boy, how did she tell Aiden what she felt for him? How did she explain that for her this was the most freedom she would ever know? She couldn’t. Not until she could tell him directly without
anyone standing between them.
‘It’s of no importance,’ she signed to Le and then disengaged herself from Aiden. It’s of no importance, she whispered to herself – I am of no importance – but since becoming a captive and fighting for her life, Naia had discovered that she was important.
If not to her people, if not even to herself, she was important to Aiden and Le, and that made all the difference in the world.
CHAPTER 14
Amaroq carved along the lines his father had carved so many years before, trying to reverse the damage the elements had caused. It struck him how people spent so much of their limited time, trying to preserve just one memory of their having been, of having lived, of mattering. These two small graves were all that remained of two beings, two brief lives, like a candle flicker that had been born and died, leaving behind nothing, except a scrap of memory in the mind of a dead man.
And here was his son, trying desperately to preserve what his father had been unable to save. His sisters, two small souls that he’d never met, never got to see the world around them, never were more than a painful memory of all that might have been.
His father had named them Eliora and Dyana. He’d held them in his arms and given them identity. Then he’d laid them to rest, carved their headstones, and mourned. He’d probably sat in this very spot, weeping, questioning why he’d been brought here to witness both their beginning and their end.
Closing his eyes, Amaroq let the knife still against the ancient wood. His heart was pounding, his head buzzing with too many thoughts. This wasn’t what he wanted. He’d always been fine without knowing, without wanting, without longing for more than what was before him. He’d never mourned the loss of the man who’d given him life, he’d never cared, but sitting here, sitting in the very spot where his father had mourned his daughters, Amaroq couldn’t deny he wanted more. He wanted to know his father.
“Wolf?”
He felt Shandar’s hand on his shoulder.
Looking up, he met the older man’s concerned expression.
Shandar hunkered down before him. Behind him, he could see Erjen and Nakoda waiting.
“I have to preserve their memory. He’d want that. He’d want someone to care for them.”
Shandar glanced down at the grave marker in his hands. “All right.” He said it in that careful voice people reserved for psychotics.
Amaroq smiled. “I haven’t lost my mind.”
“Of course not.” Shandar forced a smile in return. “But just the same, I want you to return to Tirsbor with Nakoda.”
Amaroq’s gaze narrowed. “No. I can’t. Naia is out there…”
“I’ll continue to look for Naia. Erjen’s agreed to help me. He thinks he might know something, but this…” He motioned around them at the expanse of open land. “This is too much. I shouldn’t have taken you beyond Tirsbor.”
Amaroq shook his head. “And yet you did. You can’t just expect me to go back, to be content with walls and boundaries. I’ve seen too much to go back.” He released the knife and grasped Shandar’s arm. “I’m all right. I know you worry, but I’m fine. You can’t box me up again, Shandar. Not now.”
Shandar sighed, looking down at the marker in Amaroq’s hands.
Amaroq shifted his attention to Erjen. “What do you know about my sister?”
Erjen moved closer. “There’s a homestead far back in the canyon, many fields of grain. I stumbled upon it once when I was walking.”
Amaroq nodded. “Go on.”
“Women were working the fields, Stravad women. At first I thought it was women like Adalia.” He pointed at the grave. “Women who’d fled the order, but then I saw the guards.”
“Guards?”
“Human men, walking the perimeter, keeping track of the women. I followed the canyon around to the entrance. Armed guards were stationed along the ridge. No one goes in or out without being seen.”
Amaroq nodded, considering. “That must be where they’re keeping my sister.”
“Wolf…” warned Shandar.
Amaroq met his gaze. “I have to do this, Shandar. I have to find her. Don’t take this away from me.”
Shandar nodded. “All right, but you’ve got to understand there’s no guarantee Naia will be there.”
Amaroq swallowed hard. “Like the grave yesterday at the river, I have to know.”
* * *
The hike to the canyon took most of the day. As they neared it, the sun tracked over them, dipping behind the mountains, casting shadows over the land. Shadows were the realm of the Nazarien. They could blend with them, become one, sliding just at the edge of sight and awareness. Amaroq and his companions crept to the edge of the homestead, hiding in the scrub brush, blending seamlessly with their environment, making no sound.
Shandar whispered a count of the guards stationed above them on the canyon ridge, hidden behind rocks and trees. Erjen added to it, seeing those that only the most skilled Nazarien could spot. Nakoda gave a grunt of agreement.
Amaroq closed his eyes and felt forth with his power. Why rely on sight when you had other weapons at your command? “Two more,” he said, “just beyond where the road bends.”
Erjen gave him an admiring glance. “I’ve only seen that once before.”
Shandar patted Amaroq’s back. “Same here. Your father could count assailants without sight more accurately than I ever could.”
Amaroq smiled, then his thoughts turned to the problem at hand. “We need to get in there.”
Shandar considered. “We can take out the guards here, but there’s no knowing how many are at the homestead. How many did you see when you investigated, Erjen?”
“I never got an accurate count. I couldn’t get close enough to see the actual compound.”
Amaroq marked the position of the sun. “We have a number of hours before nightfall.” He shifted and faced Shandar. “We need a distraction to get by them. I’m going to sneak up closer, but I’ll do it sloppily so they can find me.”
“What?” Shandar’s expression projected his alarm.
“That way they’ll bring me into the compound, and you can slip in behind while they’re occupied with me.”
“No, they’ll kill you.”
“Why? I’m Stravad. They can add me to their slaves.”
“You’re male. You heard Erjen. The slaves working the field were women.”
“That’s only what he saw. They took the King of Dorland.”
“And we have no proof that he’s still alive.”
Amaroq pointed over his shoulder. “My sister’s in that canyon. I have to try this.”
“You don’t know that, Wolf. We don’t know where Naia is.”
“There’s no other way. Someone has to get in that compound.”
“Not you. I’ll go.”
“They’ll never take you. You’re an old man.”
Shandar glared at him, but Amaroq shrugged. The truth was the truth.
“Then Nakoda.”
Nakoda grunted in agreement.
Amaroq shook his head. “Which of us would you see as a better slave? I’m young enough and less intimidating.”
“No.”
“Shandar, I’ll make sure they take me into the compound.” He gave him a significant look. Shandar didn’t know the extent of his power, but he knew it was great. Amaroq felt sure he could plant the idea deep enough that the Humans would take it as their own. “My sister’s in that canyon, Shandar. I have to get her out.”
“It’s too dangerous. I can’t risk it.”
“You don’t have a choice. Would you try to control me the way the Nazarien have? Would you lock me away?”
“I don’t want to lose you!” Shandar hissed angrily.
“Trust me. Please, Shandar. If no one else does, trust me on this. I can get inside that compound and they won’t hurt me.”
Shandar studied his face.
“You’ve never treated me the way the Nazarien have. You’ve been a father to me. Now, let
me prove to you that I’m capable of running my own life. Let me go.”
“We’ll come back tomorrow. I promise you. We’ll find a way in. This...this is too dangerous. Don’t do this. I’m begging you, Wolf.”
“Shandar…”
“I’m not trying to control you, but there are other ways, ways that aren’t so risky. Let’s go back to Erjen’s cabin and plot it out. Please, Wolf.”
Amaroq could feel the panic inside the older man and it moved him. Nakoda gripped his shoulder.
“I feel the same. This isn’t the way. You need to be reasonable about this.”
Amaroq sighed. “All right. We’ll come back tomorrow.”
Shandar nodded, looking away. The wash of his emotions nearly staggered the younger man.
They crept away from the canyon, disappearing into the shadows, never being seen nor heard. The walk back to the cabin took them until nightfall. Once there, Erjen heated the leftover stew and they ate in silence. Weariness pressed on all of them.
After the dishes were cleared, they attempted to make a plan, but in the end they decided they were all too tired to think it through clearly. They agreed to wake early the next morning and formulate something a bit more coherent.
Bidding Erjen goodnight, they retired to the barn. There would be no storytelling tonight. Settling the horses, Amaroq and Nakoda climbed into the loft, only to find Shandar fast asleep. He didn’t even stir when they dropped into their bedrolls next to him.
Lying in the darkness, Amaroq listened to his companions’ snores, waiting for the deepest, stillest part of the night. Sleep would not find him, not when the possibility remained that Naia was close by. When he was certain they wouldn’t awaken, he eased out of his bedroll and crept to the ladder, descending into the barn.
A few moments later, he was loping across the yard, headed back in the direction of the homestead and his sister.
* * *
Dawn had just broken as Amaroq picked his way toward the entrance of the homestead. He knew he was taking a risk, but he couldn’t think of any other way to go about getting inside the compound. Fighting down his own anxiety, he held his breath and moved closer. He stuck to the brush, keeping out of sight as much as possible, but not blending the way a fully trained Nazarien would. He hoped it would be enough to draw out the guards he sensed around them.
The World of Samar Box Set 3 Page 115