Return to the Fierce Land
Page 2
Tonight, all fourteen elders presided. Only special weeknight meetings commanded the governing attendance of all seven elder couples. The weighty counsel of the wives would be required this night. Awareness of the importance of his journey hovered over Rikk in solemn gravity.
After a night spent wrestling with his fears, Rikk had finally slept, determined to hold on to the faith of Erdon and Aryla concerning his journey. Yesterday’s intense waves of alarm had ceased to dominate his body. Instead, he now experienced a constant undercurrent of dismay overlaid with forced calm. Dread could be mastered, and he was determined to prevail over it.
The One would guide him safely to Myla. Everyone said so. He was supposed to rest in that, but he couldn’t help wondering how. The Fierce Land was dangerous enough for those who lived there. How much more for someone who no longer belonged in that place?
He remembered his last glimpse of Myla. It had been heavy with the pain of imminent escape and separation. Firelight had flickered on her delicate features while she lay in exhausted sleep on their uncle’s hearth. He cut off further memories. Besides, she’d be a young woman now, well past the agony of that day.
Allon’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Otric or Eyla, have you received any new dreams or visions?”
The spouses glanced at each other before giving a slight shake of their heads. Allon nodded. “Then we’ll proceed with what we’ve been shown.” He drew in a breath and let his gaze take in Rikk and his two friends. “We know you will receive protection and assistance in whatever challenges you face. Some of it in ways none of us have experienced. Much of what you may endure is unclear to us, yet the visions are all clear that you will receive the guidance and shielding necessary to find Myla and bring her back with you.”
Otric cleared his throat and added, “There are other elements Eyla and I have seen, yet we are not free to discuss them outside of the elder circle.”
Vinnt gave a slight scowl. “Since we are undertaking the journey, will we be told of these other elements before we leave?”
“We don’t know yet,” Allon said. “But the One does. We will follow the path we’ve been shown.”
Vinnt and Enmin both nodded. Frustration filled Rikk as he avoided meeting the eyes of either of his companions. He didn’t want them to see the questions he tried so hard to ignore. Ones they obviously did not share, judging by their quick agreement. Why couldn’t he be more like them?
Enmin spread the cloth map on the table in front of him and pointed to the path etched upon the represented lands. “Most of the journey is by water. Shall we provision ourselves with fishing and foraging?”
Erdon shook his head. “This would slow you down, so we are equipping you with the supplies you will need. However, the return journey will afford you time to seek provisions should you have the need. The three of you will work with us concerning what supplies to take with you.”
Enmin nodded. “When is the day of leaving?”
Allon’s wife Selya answered, her gaze intent upon the three travelers. “After the third moon of summer. We need time to fashion suitable clothes for you and ready all the provisions. By the time you arrive, the heat in the Fierce Land will have lessened. To leave earlier would cause you much distress.”
“We’ll need to shave our beards and hair before we leave and again at arrival so our appearances will not draw interest,” Rikk said.
Vinnt’s brows rose while one of his hands traveled to touch his beard. “Our beards and our hair?”
Allon added, “You must do the last shaving while in the river water so as to leave no trace behind in case of pursuit.”
Heads nodded around the table, while Vinnt’s expression remained puzzled and Enmin chuckled at him. Allon and Selya began a joyful song of praise followed by one for safe travel. The rich tones of all the people meshed and rose, filling Rikk with peace and strength. If only he could travel with all of them. Their faith would ease his fear of entering the Fierce Land.
Rikk sat on a fallen log in the forest with Enmin and Vinnt a week before their departure. The forest sounds of birdcalls and wind fluttering the leaves worked its peaceful music into Rikk, calming his unease. Both his friends wore their usual serene expressions. Did his own inner trouble show in his face? Yet how could anyone truly know another by what their eyes told them?
His own strong body and stature would suggest the capability of a full-fledged man. But inside, the sensibility of a boy lurked, rearing up in unexpected intensity, though he pressed hard against it. Only the One truly knew him. Someday he hoped to understand himself that well.
Vinnt regarded Rikk, one brow raised. “You’ve not spoken much. Will you share your thoughts?”
Which ones?
Rikk raised his eyes to the swaying treetops and followed the flight of a small light-brown bird. Such freedom in its tiny body. He drew in a deep breath and smiled at Vinnt. “I’m longing to see my sister. I keep that in the front of my mind. My concerns I lay daily before the One.”
“You do well.” Enmin nodded, his expression serious. “We can only follow the path laid out.”
Vinnt scooped up a leaf and twirled it by the stem. “Yet we have choice, also.”
“True, but I often wonder if even the paths we think we choose are already laid before us.”
Vinnt laughed and flipped the leaf upward, watching it spiral back to earth. “Not even the elders have ever agreed on an answer for that question.”
Rikk dipped his head and smiled at Vinnt’s good nature. “Perhaps we aren’t ready to hear the answer, or wouldn’t understand it. But it doesn’t stop me from asking.”
Vinnt nodded. “Me also. Many nights my heart is full of questions. The elders say changes are coming. They tell us that our journey will be challenging, yet we will be guided and protected. I believe this, and trust them as I always have, yet I would wish to have had a dream or vision about our path. But Allon told me that if I have need of such, it will be given to me.”
Vinnt let out a sigh. “What of you, my friend? No questions inside your heart?”
Enmin smiled. “No. Not anymore.”
“So you did have some. And why don’t you have them now?”
Enmin shook his head at Vinnt. “Haven’t the elders cautioned us about forcing a confidence from another?”
“A question is not a way of forcing someone. The elders always welcome questions and say that we should never hesitate to make a truthful answer for ourselves.” He gave Enmin a playful shove with his shoulder. “I never figured you as someone who could be forced anyway.”
Vinnt and Rikk shared a laugh, while Enmin’s sober expression softened into a momentary grin. “Since you know me so well, why do you think I have no more questions?”
Vinnt laughed. “And now you’re asking me a question.” He turned his full attention to Enmin. “I can answer it without spending time in thought. You asked your questions and worked them out in prayer.”
Enmin nodded. “Yes. You do know me well.”
Rikk longed to ask Enmin what questions he’d had. Were they anything like his? Enmin was from the Fierce Land, too. Didn’t he wonder how they would enter such a violent land without a sword or even a dagger? His hand had long ceased to reach automatically for the dagger that had hung on the side of his thigh since he was a child. It had been painful to give it up, but how relieved Erdon and Aryla had been when he handed it to them.
He couldn’t raise the subject of considering weapons. No, he already knew everyone’s response to that. But Enmin . . . wouldn’t he have some of the same thoughts? He almost opened his mouth to ask, but kept quiet. The three grew silent, the gentle forest sounds the only accompaniment to their thoughts. Rikk wished all his paths would remain here in the woods and village. Peaceful trails to travel, accompanied by beloved voices and woodland scents, free of turmoil and the clash of weapons. But Myla waited somewhere ahead. He had to leave.
Chapter Two
The day of departure dawned w
arm and soft. Light from the window touched Rikk’s staring eyes while he fought back a surge of discomfort. Faint sounds of morning meal preparation reached him, and he rose, reluctance dragging at his body. What if he never saw this room again, never returned home? Or if he did, what if he was somehow forever changed and wouldn’t be welcome here anymore? He shook off the dismal thought and drew in a deep breath.
When the time came to say his good-byes to Erdon and Aryla, Rikk’s heart ached with longing for them and the peaceful life they’d given him. He forced himself to shorten the embraces and offered them each a smile that faded as soon as he turned away. He steeled his heart, knowing all the villagers and elders were assembled nearby for one last prayer. He must show strength for all their sakes, and not dampen their happy confidence in the three travelers and their journey.
Months of preparation and encouragement, along with many prayers and meetings had knitted the entire village together in purpose and anticipation. Yet Rikk felt a growing distance that chilled him with the knowledge that he was different from the rest of them, unable to fully join in their certainty of good outcomes, no matter how hard the journey might prove to be.
Rikk, Enmin, and Vinnt stood with bowed heads as the songs of protection washed over them. A last glimpse of Erdon and Aryla singing a travel prayer for them sparked a stab of yearning through Rikk as the three waved and shouldered their packs.
The morning-long downhill journey to the river began, and they tramped along the forest trail. Sunlight thrust through the canopy illuminating small portions of their journey in brightness while bathing the rest of the forest in gentle light. Birds chorused and the intermittent rustle of passing deer sounded. Vinnt began a hearty walking song, and they matched their strides to its cadence.
“We sing, we walk, our steps are lightly springing. We trust, we pray, and end each hour singing. Sky above and earth beneath. Passing o’er and underneath. We go . . . we go . . . we go!”
When they reached the river, Rikk spotted the vessel packed with supplies waiting near the shore, its sail furled and still. The length of three men, its deep-bottomed hull would be their home for the journey. A small covered section would shield them from the rain when needed. No turning back now. He must move forward on this unknown river expedition; the Fierce Land waited far to the south. Flashes of remembered heat and distress interrupted the peaceful lap of water against shore.
Enough.
He pushed away the thoughts and dropped his pack. “We’ll shave now and give the sun a chance to brown our faces and scalps.”
The men sat on a fallen log and began the tedious process. Once finished, they examined each other.
Vinnt laughed and shoved Enmin’s shoulder. “Enmin, you’re the oldest, yet you look like a boy.”
Enmin scowled and Vinnt scrutinized Rikk. “Without your hair and beard to soften you, your face looks like one ready for battle.”
Am I ready? And for what manner of battle?
Enmin placed a hand on Vinnt’s shoulder. “And you look like the youth that you are inside.” He shared a laugh with Vinnt. “Let’s go.”
The sky shone a bright blue while they climbed into their wooden boat and settled themselves. The boat rode the current well, and the shore soon faded from sight. Enmin began a song of praise. “Wind, water, trees. Songs dwell within these. And so we add our praise and thanks to You who made all things.”
The strength of the water, the glory of the trees and sky around them soared into Rikk’s heart, and he sang with the other two. Some of the heavy burden in his chest lifted and blew away beyond the rustling trees. The first day passed in companionable harmony while they watched the shoreline sail by and added snatches of song to the rhythm of travel. They fasted throughout daylight and stopped at dusk for rest and food at the first landmark cited on the map. The jagged outlines of a destroyed city spoke of an unknown, violent past. Had all the inhabitants died or moved on and learned better ways?
Part of Rikk longed to walk among the ruins and look for clues, but there was no time now for the past and its ugly secrets. Though the evening grew chilly, they ignited no fire on shore and spoke in quiet tones, as the elders had instructed.
After they re-entered the boat, following a brisk moonlit walk for exercise, Vinnt said, “Tell me of the Fierce Land. You’re both from there but never speak much of it. I know the elders say we shouldn’t dwell on the past, but I’d like to know something more of our destination.”
Rikk met Enmin’s sober gaze for long silent moments. He had little wish to speak of his first home and nodded toward Enmin to answer.
“I left so long ago; it’s grown dim for me, yet some things I remember very well.” Enmin sighed. “You’ve only known our northern home. In the Fierce Land, the heat presses down, as the air at home does before a storm. But it’s always like that and makes you drowsy in the daytime. And sometimes the storms are made of dust and wind instead of rain. Those are the most dreaded ones.”
Vinnt’s eyes widened, sparking a chuckle from Enmin. “Being the orphan child of herders, I can tell you little of city life or its practices. We herders took care of all the livestock for food and sacrifices for the city dwellers. Our lives had the lowest value of Fierce-Landers.”
Vinnt’s brows rose. “Lowest value?”
Enmin nodded. “Lives are valued according to your family’s station, but one’s station can rise if a male excels in battle, or a female marries above her station. Also, if a person chooses his or her patron Devourer from among the highest ranking Devourers, the diligence of the worship and sacrifices may raise his or her station, but that is up to the headman to decide.”
Enmin paused a moment before he continued. “I remember the head herder taught me to set aside a portion of all my food and water for sacrifice to the Devourers. This would ensure my safety from them. The head herder’s chosen one was the python, and I had to give offerings to the python image before every meal. Once I was so hungry, I ate all my portion and he whipped my back and chest raw. I couldn’t lie down to rest for days and had to sleep as I sat.”
Vinnt shifted and looked out at the water, his expression somber. “Is that why you ran away?”
“Yes. He threatened to sacrifice me to a python in payment for my disrespect, so I slipped away in the night. I nearly died during my journey.” He scraped a hand across the stubble on his chin. “No trackers followed, I guess because I’d been deemed worthless. Though I didn’t know of him, the One guided my direction and caused Olmat to find me and bring me to the people.”
Vinnt nodded. “Olmat travels the most. I’m surprised he wasn’t the one to find Rikk as well.”
Rikk said, “If Erdon didn’t love to wander the forest as I do, I doubt I’d have been found. When I reached the woodland, I thought it the most beautiful place and used the last of my strength to settle under a tree and wait for death. And then I saw him walk toward me.” He dipped his head and smiled at the memory. “Had I the strength, I would have run away. To see a grown man with so much hair on his head and face frightened me.”
Enmin fixed a stern gaze on Rikk and asked in a quiet voice, “Why do you doubt you’d have been found?”
The question shocked Rikk, and he averted his eyes from Enmin’s steady scrutiny.
Vinnt scratched his scalp and peered at them. “Why do your people shave all their hair? Because of the heat?”
“They’re not my people anymore.” Rikk shook his head. “The women grow their hair but the men shave. Not for the heat.” He looked out over the still water and paused while images of the men he’d known in the Fierce Land passed through his mind. “No, not for the heat. It’s so no one can grab their or beard and easily cut their throat.”
The ensuing silence grew heavy for Rikk. Unwanted sounds of swords clashing, screams, and shouting echoed in his thoughts before he slammed the door to his memories. He met Enmin’s studied look and drew in a breath.
Enmin raised the hood of his cloak. “Time for
sleep.”
The three settled on straw pallets at the stern of the boat. Rikk stared at the stars and fixed his mind on thoughts of Erdon, Aryla, and home. The gentle, rhythmic sway of the boat with the slight lapping sounds of the water reminded him of the peaceful cadence of prayers and mesmerized him into sleep.
Four more days passed in the same manner as the first. Traveling the route the elders gave them, they often spotted the light of distant campfires at night but ran into no others. On the fifth day, the wind grew hectic, and an errant wave snatched the map from Enmin’s hand.
Rikk lunged and reached an oar toward it, but it swirled away. “Shall I jump in and try to fetch it?”
Enmin shook his head. “Not necessary.”
Fear rose and constricted Rikk’s chest. His breathing grew short. “Then how shall we continue without it? We’ll become lost.”
Enmin and Vinnt stared at him.
Enmin said, “A follower of the One can’t be lost. Where we are is always known and seen. We’ll ask and receive guidance.”
Shame heated Rikk’s face and sickened his stomach. Were he a dedicated follower, he wouldn’t ask such a question. His inadequacy weighed on him and he couldn’t meet their eyes.
A hand on his shoulder caused him to look up. Enmin’s gray eyes exuded peace. “Don’t despair. The One knows where we are and where we’re bound. We’ll pray now.”
The boat rocked and skimmed the waves, speeding downstream while the three prayed in silence. As dusk approached, the wind calmed and Enmin pointed to a sandy area of shore in the distance. “We’ll stop there and walk for a time before we eat and take our sleep. My legs are weary of sitting.”
In the following days, Rikk expected his companions to show some sign of concern or discussion about their direction. Their faces remained placid, and whenever a choice of watercourse presented itself, Enmin or Vinnt steered the boat with confidence down each new tributary.