by B. K. Boes
Mae stepped forward. “He’s not here. We came a long way—”
“Go home. Bring your mentor.” The oracle turned back to his polishing.
“We can’t,” Jabin said. “The vision will take place tomorrow, at the ringing of the bell. We don’t have enough time.”
Oracle Mattle sat on the edge of the stage and narrowed his eyes. “The Oracle Preeminent can’t be disturbed at the moment. Tell me the vision, and I will ensure everything works out.”
Mae shook her head. “I’m seeking Tamonn,” she said.
“Tamonn?” The oracle burst into laughter. “Oh, I see. This is a joke. A bet, perhaps? See if you can get an oracle to ask the peacekeepers to do something stupid? To embarrass us all on the last day of the festival?”
“What? No!” Jabin couldn’t help but grimace. “Who would do that?”
“Ah,” Oracle Mattle said. “Quite a few young troublemakers have tried it in the past. Indeed, when I was young, someone succeeded. Got the peacekeepers to run around in circles for hours while they looted another part of town. I’m sorry, but the Oracle Preeminent will not be fooled again.”
“That’s not what we—”
“Go, before I have you arrested for disturbing the sanctuary,” the oracle said, waving them off and returning to his chore.
“But—” Jabin began, but Mae pulled on his arm.
“You’re the one that doesn’t want to get put in jail, remember? They don’t believe us.” She grabbed his hand and led him back outside.
“We have to try again,” Jabin said.
“No, we don’t. We’ll get arrested, and then that woman will die for sure.” Mae placed her hands on her hips. “We tried. It didn’t work.”
“We didn’t try very hard,” Jabin said. “You just don’t want this to happen. If this was what you wanted, we’d be back in there, convincing Oracle Mattle of our sincerity.”
An angry red crept up Mae’s neck and onto her cheeks. “Fine! Go in there. Get arrested. And the woman will die! I’m not going to risk that.”
Jabin let out a frustrated shout and covered his head with his hands. He stepped away from Mae and turned his back on her, trying to calm himself.
She’s right, he thought when his mind finally cleared of all anger. If they still don’t believe us, if we’re arrested, no one will be there to try to save that woman.
He looked back at Mae, who was now sitting on the steps of the grand sanctuary, her chin resting on her knees. Her eyes were closed, but he saw the glimmer of tears falling down her cheek. Jabin sighed. When he’d come after Mae, he could have never imagined this.
Letting out one long breath to release the tension, Jabin rolled his shoulders a few times, ran his fingers through his hair, and came to sit next to Mae.
“I guess…” Jabin started, but trailed off. Am I really doing this?
Mae opened her eyes and looked at him as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. She sniffled and waited.
“I guess two oracles-in-training are better than nothing,” Jabin said.
Mae smiled as she took in Jabin’s words. She dried her glistening eyes and threw her arms around Jabin’s neck. “Thank you, Jabin,” she said.
Jabin patted her arm and tried not to let his emotions cloud his judgment. She was so close — the scent of her, the warmth of her. His reservations were melting, but he didn’t know if it was because he was doing the right thing or because his mind seemed to work differently when Mae was there.
We’re either about to save a woman or fail her completely. Another person’s very life is in our hands, and our hands alone.
Sustainer help us…
Chapter Forty-Six
Anakai
Kelda Canyons, Adikea
8th Cycle of Chenack
989 Post Schism
“A male therbak has settled inside our territory,” General Yormin shouted across the assembled group of warriors, both slave-sons and true. “This means females will begin nesting in the area if we don’t eradicate the male. There are already four nests. We need to send at least four contingents of men to neutralize the females before we take out the bull. They’ll protect him at the expense of their own lives.”
General Vordon, who had stood behind Yormin with his hands clasped behind his back, stepped forward. “Slave-son warriors. This is a chance for your true-son betters to practice their command skills. Four true-sons will choose their contingent of slave-sons, two from the elder section and two from the middle. Each slave-son chosen will follow the lead of his temporary commander. You must protect him at all costs and work together to bring down the therbaks which have invaded our territory.”
Anakai stood next to Jerg in one of the middle rows. Shoulders squared and dagger at his side, he was ready. At nearly twelve years of age and with almost four years of experience in the canyons, his blood teemed with the excitement of a new challenge.
But, someone has to pick me first.
He squared his shoulders and tried to look strong. There was the shuffling of feet around him as others did the same. Anakai glanced over his shoulder at the older slave-sons, all fifteen years of age or more. The true-sons would pick from them first. Then, they’d look to Anakai’s age group for whatever attributes they might still need. From similar missions in the past, Anakai knew each true-son would have a different strategy.
General Yormin called out the four true-sons chosen. “Uman, Reddin, Hallvore, and Char. Step forward. This will be a first command for each of you. Remember your tactics and training. Your slave-son warriors are tools to be respected and cultivated. If you lose none of them to the therbaks, you will win this challenge. Regardless, each of you will be victorious if the therbaks are pushed out of our territory.”
Each of the true-sons lined up in front of the group of slave-sons. One of them, Reddin, scanned the boys and his gaze rested on Anakai. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards. Quay, a row in front of Anakai and a few boys to his right, looked back at Anakai and sneered.
“Oh no,” Jerg whispered. “Reddin’s starin’ at us.”
“No, he’s staring at me.” Anakai swallowed hard.
Reddin was Quay’s older brother. The prospect of the mission before him didn’t feel quite as appealing as it did just moments ago. Quay was vindictive, and from what Anakai knew of Reddin, he was even worse. Quay never stopped targeting Anakai, and lately, it had gotten worse.
“Damn the Other,” Jerg whispered.
Maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe he won’t pick me.
Anakai’s palms began to sweat as Uman began choosing his contingent. He chose two strong, sturdy slave-sons from the older grouping, and from Anakai’s he chose two of the smallest.
In case they need someone to squeeze into a tight spot.
Hallvore went next and chose the strongest from each group, and then it was Reddin’s turn. Anakai held his breath and closed his eyes until he heard the words that knocked the air out of him.
“Anakai of the Dakkan Household. Come forward!” Reddin’s shout seemed to echo against the walls of the canyon clearing.
Anakai’s eyes snapped open. He stood still for only a second before forcing himself to move. Reddin watched as Anakai made his way to the front, his sharp, dark eyes narrowing as Anakai came close. Reddin’s smile spread, and he welcomed his new slave-son recruit with a pat on the back.
“May we be victorious,” he said, and then in a whisper, “And may we leave any dead weight with the therbaks.”
Anakai pressed his lips firmly together, careful not to make any reckless remarks. If he tries to get me killed, all I have to do is outsmart him… and the therbak. The thought tempered his anger with a thread of apprehension. Reddin was a true-son, used to getting his way. If he wanted Anakai dead, there were a thousand ways he could put him in extra danger without getting himself in any trouble. Especially since Anakai would be required to follow Reddin’s orders. If Anakai was killed, the blame would most likely fall on himself.
&n
bsp; Reddin finished picking out three other slave-sons, and then Char took his turn. Anakai was too stuck in his head, in all of the ways this could go wrong, and before he knew it, the choosing was finished. All four contingents stood at the ready.
The rest of the warriors were dismissed. Anakai tried to nod with some confidence at Jerg, but in truth, he was terrified. Facing a therbak was bad enough. Facing a therbak under the command of a true-son who hated you was a death sentence.
General Yormin positioned himself in front of the remaining warriors. He looked to the oldest true-son. “Char, you’ll be in charge of taking the bull once your female is neutralized. Everyone, listen well as General Vordon explains the mission in more detail.”
General Vordon walked over to one of four small woven baskets. Anakai hadn’t noticed them before, but as the general approached, he thought one of the baskets trembled slightly. With a metal pole, complete with a hook at one end, General Vordon pulled out a long, fat snake.
“These commonly attempt to eat a therbak’s eggs,” Vordon said. “They have only until around midnight before they die of the poison we’ve injected them with. You must find a way to get your snake into a nest. The mother therbak will eat it, defending her eggs. The poison will make her drop unconscious almost immediately. Drive a dagger into the base of the skull on the back of the neck. Twist until you hear a pop; that should kill it. The eggs are valuable, and we’ll go back to gather them later. But you must complete your task today while the snakes still live. A dead snake won’t fool those creatures.”
The four true-sons came together in a huddle to talk, to strategize, and then Reddin came back to his group. Anakai knew the other boy his age. Wes was taller than Anakai and more bulky, strong as a sandbeast, and just as dumb. He could follow instructions, though, so his brute strength often earned him favor. The two older slave-sons were Zan and Scurr. Zan was a decent fighter, from what Anakai had seen. Scurr was a step above many of the older slave-sons, both in skill and in character. He was the kind of man who could kill an enemy with his bare hands in seconds, but who encouraged brotherhood among his peers. More than once, Anakai had seen him break up fights between slave-sons and proceed to lecture them like General Vordon might.
Anakai didn’t know Zan or Scurr well, but he did know they were nearly ready to leave the canyons. He’d heard them speak of joining the fight in the North. From what the Emperor’s decrees stated, it seemed Adikeans were halfway to bringing Ergon under their rule. They controlled the Western Pass now, and Anakai heard some older slave-sons talk about a plan to take control of Radelle’s Heart Bridge. Anakai didn’t know much about Ergon, but he did know the Adikeans were destined to rule it, as they were for all of Leyumin.
“You boys ready?” Reddin asked.
“Yes, Commander!” they all answered in unison.
“Let’s make our ancestors proud.” Reddin pointed to one of the woven baskets. “Anakai, you carry the snake. The rest of you grab two ropes, sling them over your shoulders and stock yourselves with an extra sword or axe, whichever you feel most confident wielding. I know you boys have your own daggers, but we need more than that.”
Anakai walked over to the woven basket and checked the latch on either side of the lid. It wouldn’t be above Reddin to sabotage the basket, see Anakai bitten by the snake inside. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt. An injury like that would make the long march ahead and the fight with a therbak that much more difficult.
Once satisfied the lid was secure, he wrapped a leather strap around the basket and tied it on top, leaving a tail of leather by which to carry it. He picked out an axe, much larger than the small one he and Jerg had tucked away in their cave. He knew how to use it better than he knew how to use a sword. At least for now; he planned to master both by the time he left the canyons.
Reddin crossed his arms and addressed them again once they were armed and ready to go. “Once we all reach the northwestern boundary, we’ll stop again and come up with a detailed strategy to complete our mission,” Reddin said. “For now, follow me. And stay quiet. The closer we get to therbak territory, the more danger we’re in. One peep, and I’ll lash you myself when we get back.”
“Yes, Commander!” the four of them said.
And then Anakai joined the other slave-sons in following Reddin. All four groups traveled together, in relative silence, for hours before they reached the border of warrior territory. The sun was low in the sky, barely peeking above the plateaus of the canyons. Finally, Char, who led the trail of warriors, held up a fist, and they all stopped cold. He turned and whispered his message. It passed from one to another in hushed tones.
Reddin turned to his group. “Char has spotted a female in flight. We are near their nesting grounds.”
They all pressed against the wall of the corridor they were in, moving with caution, following the direction of the female. Anakai slipped into focus, letting go of all his inhibitions and distrust of his commander. He watched the female, scanned the cliffs for signs of other therbaks, and made each step deliberate and soundless. They rounded a corner and got a clearer view of the plateau where the therbak was descending. She had something in her talons, a goat from the looks of it.
Must have flown to the other side of the canyons for that little treat.
Anakai had been to the southern edge of the canyons where the horned, four-legged creatures lived. They were amazingly agile, able to climb steep cliffs better than a man, just using their horns and hooves. The first time Anakai had gone hunting for goats, he had come upon a small herd jumping from handhold to handhold on the side of a canyon wall. The corridor was too small for a therbak to swoop in and snatch the goats off the wall, but they were good targets for a bow and arrow. The whole of the warrior camp had eaten well that night after the slave-son hunters had carried back several goats to mix in a stew.
That seemed a long time ago, now, as Anakai watched the female therbak drop the goat on a cliff that led into a dark, yawning cave. To Anakai’s surprise, the thing scrambled to its feet. He thought the goat would escape when the head of a therbak, three times the size of the female’s, appeared from the darkness of the cave and snapped the goat in its jaws.
Every man on the canyon floor who witnessed the bull’s brief show sucked in a breath at the sight of it. It was the closest thing any of them would ever see to a dragon of ancient times. Those creatures of old were supposed to have been as smart as a man, and according to legend, could even enter a man’s mind and communicate. Anakai shuddered, glad this bull was just an oversized therbak. Instinctual and ferocious, but unable to reason. Once the females were all incapacitated, he and the other slave-sons would follow Char’s orders to kill the bull.
The female flew to the top of the canyon wall and settled there, folding in her wings. She screeched loudly, and from three other places, black wings rustled, drawing attention to themselves, answering their sister’s call with bone-chilling chatter.
“Did you see that, boys?” Reddin whispered. “They’ve shown us exactly where we need to go. Stay here.”
He and the other three true-sons gathered together again, this time for only a few seconds. When Reddin returned, he was smiling, full of vigor.
“All right, boys,” he said. “We’re taking the therbak up on that ridge.” He pointed to a spot halfway up the cliff, partly in the shadow of another canyon wall. A small overhang protruded above a shelf where the therbak nested. An oddly-shaped vertical crevice, deep and dark, marred the wall above the overhang. The therbak below was curled upon her huge nest made of bones. She rearranged her wings as they watched, making her more visible in the shadows.
Zan nodded. “What are your orders, Commander?”
“We will round the canyon wall, climb to the top of the plateau, and then when it’s darker, down to the overhang. Then one of you will climb down to the nest. I’ll observe each of you as we ascend and select one of you with the best chance of making it down to the nest without a sound. We’ll
lower the basket, and that man will get the snake to the nest. Once the female has eaten the snake, I will come down to kill it. Then we will climb back to the overhang and join Char above the bull’s cave on the top of the plateau.”
“And if she doesn’t eat it?” Scurr asked.
Reddin scowled. “Then pick it up, make some noise, and shove it down her throat before she eats you. Or as she eats you. I don’t care. As long as the poison gets to where it needs to go. We can’t kill the bull with the female therbaks on our tails. They must be incapacitated. At any cost.”
“Yes, Commander.” Scurr’s face turned red as he looked away, and Anakai’s peer, Wes, visibly began to tremble until he balled his fists tight.
I guess Reddin doesn’t care about winning the challenge.
Anakai wasn’t surprised. The canyons were different for the true-sons. More like a game.
“You all understand what’s about to happen?” Reddin asked.
Anakai stood straight and quietly responded with his kind. “Yes, Commander.”
“Good.” Reddin turned toward the canyon wall they’d have to climb. “With me, boys. We’ve got a therbak to kill.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jabin
The City of Nomika, Eikon
8th Cycle of Chenack
989 Post Schism
“There.” Mae pointed at a door at the back of the High Court. “Do you see? It’s small, unmarked. That’s where servants come and go.”
“But there are still guards,” Jabin said as he bit into a small loaf of bread. Their morning had passed quickly, and they were now eating a meager meal that would have to do for both lunch and dinner.
The rear end of the High Court had no streamers or decoration of any kind. It butted up against a narrow cobbled street, on the other side of which were businesses of all kinds. Jabin and Mae leaned against a brick wall as they ate.