Return to the Fierce Land

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Return to the Fierce Land Page 9

by N C Bolton


  “He’s put himself under The Silence.”

  She focused on Anek, her lips pressed tight. A long stillness stretched. She stood and walked to him. “Uncle, look at me. There’s no need for this. . . Uncle.”

  Though Anek obeyed and flicked his gaze to her, his unfocused eyes stared past her head.

  Myla dropped down next to him then turned her head to Rikk. “Why does he do this?”

  “Because he almost took your life. Enmin told him to forgive himself, and that the One loves him as He loves you. He said he is unworthy of love, and he’s useless. Then he laid face-down under The Silence.”

  Myla’s hands gestured toward Anek. “Well, come and pray for him then.”

  Enmin said, “We have. The rest is up to his own will.”

  Tears ran on Myla’s cheeks. “What if his decision is to give up? Never to return to us. To me?”

  Vinnt let out a sigh. “We can’t break the choice of another.”

  “But the One can. Ask with me, please.”

  Rikk shook his head. “Myla, I’ve learned that even the One won’t force a person’s will.”

  “Then I must.” Myla’s fist slammed the ground near Anek, raising a tiny dust cloud. “You will obey me, and I order you to stop this now.”

  Rikk’s heart tore at her desperate plea. “Myla, you know it can only be broken by the one who decrees it. It’s up to him.”

  She laid both palms on Anek’s cheeks. “No, no. Uncle, stop. You’re not useless or unworthy. All those long years we took care of each other. You gave me hope that someday our lives would change, remember?”

  Anek’s impassive face and stare continued. Myla dropped her head into her hands. “Please, Uncle. Don’t break my heart this way.”

  After a few muffled sobs, she raised her head to him. “You come back now. This is the change you hoped for, don’t you see? For both of us. We’re healed. We can have a new life, learn better ways. Uncle, please.”

  How could Anek withstand her entreaty, even under The Silence? Rikk drew in a painful breath.

  One, please help Myla be patient and cling to hope. I pray he will choose to come back, but help my sister and me bear it if he doesn’t.

  He remembered his own boyhood sojourn in silence, while he lay on the bed in Erdon’s home, hovering between life and death.

  I know You helped me, there in the darkness. Be with my uncle now. Speak to him in dreams. Show him the truth.

  Rikk strode to Myla and clasped her hand. “Come, Sister. You should eat now.”

  She sniffed and nodded. Her other hand rested a moment on Anek’s shoulder before she stood and walked away with Rikk.

  Dawn’s blue-gray light found them packed and ready after a small meal. Rikk stood near his uncle. “Rise and follow us. Walk where we walk and stop when we stop.”

  Anek rose and Rikk settled a pack across his shoulders. “Begin.”

  Enmin led the way. Whenever Rikk glanced behind him, the same sight greeted him. Anek walked, gaze trained on Rikk’s feet, his face and eyes devoid of expression.

  They kept a speedy pace. Myla’s light, steady stride matched theirs. Their rhythm continued for three uneventful days while the rocky hills gave way to a large valley of meadows laced with creeks.

  “We’ll stop under these trees tonight.” Enmin pointed at a nearby stand below them.

  The sunset gleamed above them while they made camp. Colors of orange and blue lifted Rikk’s weariness whenever he beheld them. Such a beautiful end to the day. Anek stood near him, still as a stone. Rikk removed the pack from him and pointed to where he’d spread a blanket.

  “Sit, Uncle. Rest.”

  Vinnt said, “I’m heading to the creek to see if I can catch some fish before dark.”

  Myla stood. “I’ll go with you. I caught many fish in the river at home.”

  Rikk sat near Anek and watched Vinnt and his sister saunter away. The murmur of their voices and laughter brought a smile to him. Their enjoyment of each other grew daily. Now that he truly belonged to the people, Rikk could find a companion among the young women of the villages. A delightful prospect to ponder. Possibilities danced through his mind.

  He gazed up at the darkening sky. Early stars twinkled in the dusky blue. Such beauty everywhere, above and all around. He wished his uncle would see it. But Anek seemed to see only fear an impending punishment, a world full of danger and violence. How Rikk longed to be at the village, among those who lived as the One intended. He knew Myla would thrive there like a well-watered plant. But Anek?

  Rikk stood and pointed to the stars. “Uncle, stand and lift your eyes. View the sky. See the One’s handiwork.”

  Anek obeyed and tilted his head up. He’d stand that way with his blank stare, until Rikk ordered him otherwise. When would he release himself?

  If only he would, we could help him with his burdens and the One would free him.

  Rikk studied the expressionless visage before him and sighed. Enmin tended the small fire. Vinnt and Myla ambled over, each holding a cluster of fish tied with string.

  Rikk said, “Sit down, Uncle.”

  He dropped down, complying faster than a dog. If only he’d obey a command to trust in the One and end his silence. Rikk hunkered down, sighed, and watched the play of jumping flames flicker on everyone’s faces.

  Enmin’s gaze touched on Anek. “If he would talk, I think he’d caution us about a fire in such a wide-open place.”

  Myla asked, “Should we be concerned then?”

  Vinnt shook his head. “We’ve had no warning during prayer, though in our minds we did see the trackers fashioning a way over the narrowest section of the rift.”

  She frowned and glanced into the dark beyond the firelight. “Then perhaps we shouldn’t stop and have a fire.”

  Enmin looked up from the fish he held and smiled. “Vinnt and I thought it would be safe. Besides that, we’ve been wanting a hot meal.”

  Vinnt chuckled. “These fish will be a welcome treat.”

  Vinnt and Enmin prepared the fish for roasting, and Myla moved to sit next to Rikk. “When will I see things in my mind the way all of you do?”

  “I think when you’ve learned from the elders and they offer you a place with the people.”

  “How soon did it happen for you?”

  “The day your foot was restored.”

  Her brows crinkled, forming a frown. “I don’t understand. Does it always take so long? Ten years?”

  He tipped his head back and laughed. “No. I was offered a place over a year ago. I wasn’t ready then.”

  “Why?”

  “I hadn’t let go of the past. I doubted I belonged with the villagers and I wouldn’t let the One draw me close.”

  Myla whispered, “Sounds like Uncle.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Yes, it does. How’d you get so wise?”

  “I’m not.” She shook her head. “How long do you think it will take before I can be offered a place?”

  “Not too long, I imagine.” He grinned and patted her hand. “And the elders will welcome all your questions, for they love to teach from the writings.”

  Enmin passed out portions. The savory taste of the fire-seared fish made a satisfying meal. When Rikk finished, he stared at the clear night sky, crowded now with stars. The fall rains would begin soon. They needed to hurry and get home, so Myla could settle in before the cold began.

  Myla stood. “I’ll go wash my hands and face in the creek.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Rikk rose.

  They made their way to the gurgling ribbon of starlit water and knelt at the edge. Rikk scooped some up to wash his face. The slight chill on his cheeks invigorated him. Myla giggled and splashed water at him. He laughed and blinked it away, then stretched his hand to the water, a sly grin directed at Myla.

  Someone thudded into him from behind and almost pitched him into the creek. Two strong arms locked his limbs behind him and a voice hissed, “Make a sound and your throat’s cut.”r />
  He halted his struggling while his gaze shot to Myla. A large hand covered her mouth, her wide eyes visible above it. A tall, brawny man held her torso pinned against him with his muscular arms, while her limbs thrashed uselessly.

  Trackers.

  “Though I enjoy holding you, I’ll bleed you out if you don’t stop fighting.” His low voice oozed menace, even in a whisper. He gave her body a sharp jerk. She whimpered and relaxed her limbs. “That’s better.”

  Coarse cloth gags were shoved into their mouths and their hands were tied behind them. Rikk kept his eyes trained on Myla, willing his own strength toward her while his mind raced. They’d had no warning, nor perceived any of this during prayer. Why was this happening to them? He resisted the urge to struggle against his captor. He knew trackers would kill for no reason. He had to obey and stay alive somehow. His heart quailed when he thought of what could happen to Myla.

  Please, don’t let her be hurt.

  Their captors looped ropes around their wrists then their necks and pulled them forward. Rikk forced himself to be compliant, his eyes fixed on his sister. Myla stumbled and the man leading her yanked the rope. A soft, muffled cry escaped her and Rikk caught the gleam of a dagger pointed at her. He lurched toward it only to have a hard fist land on his jaw. The man leading him whispered, “Unless you both want to die here, stop this and walk forward. Now.”

  They shuffled ahead. Rikk could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. His skin prickled from the coarse ropes and his hands were cold while the skin on his face seemed to be on fire.

  Why is this happening? Have we done something wrong?

  His emotions whirled between terror and fury while they made their slow way forward. Soon, the orange glow of the fire highlighted their three companions tied up near the fire, the light flickering on their bodies as they lay on their stomachs. Vinnt and Enmin turned their heads when they drew near, while Anek lay still, his stare impassive. Two men crouched near the fire, sporting the same strong, bare torsos and weapon-laden trousers of trackers. They shoved the remains of the cooked fish into their mouths.

  One of them wiped his mouth and stood, eyeing Rikk and Myla. He stretched his powerful build, then swept his hand around the camp. “Come and sit. Maybe if you’d expected company, you’d have cooked more fish, yes?”

  He laughed into the silence, the other captors joining him. Ropes were removed from Rikk and Myla’s necks and their gags yanked out. They were shoved into sitting positions.

  “Now, if you’ll all be as obedient as Anek here—” the speaker kicked Anek’s side.

  “Leave him!” Myla cried.

  The man closest to her grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked backward. “Keep your noise down or we’ll do worse.”

  Waves of rage threatened to consume Rikk. His muscles ached to spring up at the men. He gritted his teeth and tried to breathe. Myla remained silent, her jaw clenched and eyes fierce.

  “As I tried to say,” the man continued after a glare at Myla, “your obedience will keep you alive.” He let his gaze travel over them. “I’m Dubbik. I’ll decide what happens to you. And these other fine men are my brothers. The best trackers in the land.” He nodded at them, a pleased smirk on his face. “And the strongest.”

  He stared at Myla. “Your aunt is anxious to have you returned. She spoke to me of it in the night.”

  A ripple of laughter made Rikk’s stomach turn sour. So this was Aunt Cyra’s new husband. His gaze searched Anek. Even mired in The Silence, he must have recognized who captured him. No sound came from him after the kick. He lay as if dead, the only motion the gleam of firelight flickering on his staring eyes.

  “Cyra said you couldn’t honor her by becoming a sacrifice because you were damaged.” His eyes roamed her, scrutinizing. Rikk’s fury surged at the suggestive expression. His fingers probed the doubled rope around his wrists. There had to be a way to get loose.

  Dubbik grinned. “You look just fine to me. I could have you for another wife if I want, but Cyra might become jealous. She’s a fiery woman, isn’t she, Anek?”

  He landed another kick and laughed. “How well he takes it.”

  The man nearest Myla spoke. “Then I’ll take her. I don’t care what my other wives think.”

  Dubbik laughed. “I’m sure you don’t. But we’ll bring her to Cyra, as she requested of me. After that, you can petition for the right to have her.”

  He walked near Vinnt and Enmin. “Sit up, you two. Your lack of protest interests me. Perhaps you expected us?”

  They struggled into sitting positions, their calm expressions a jolt to Rikk. The peace he’d had before the capture was now eclipsed by fear and rage. The old, familiar sensations raced through his tense body. Confusion muddled his thoughts. Why had they been caught by these men?

  Dubbik stared at Vinnt. “You look like the leader, with your big shoulders.” He grinned and clapped a hand on his meaty shoulder.

  “The One is our leader.” Vinnt’s calm, steady voice broke through some of Rikk’s turmoil.

  “The one what? Python? Lion? Or do you serve the mosquito?”

  Raucous laughter erupted from Dubbik’s brothers.

  Enmin said, “We serve the One who creates all things.”

  Dubbik squatted down on a nearby log and rubbed his chin. “Hmmm. Your words interest me. I can use some sport. Where is this ‘One’ you serve?”

  Vinnt said, “Everywhere.”

  “I don’t see him.” Dubbik scanned the camp.

  More laughter. Dubbik grinned. “Why don’t you point him out?”

  Hands clenched, Rikk ached to strike the smug expression off the man’s face. Surely the One would want such a mocker punished.

  Dubbik crossed his arms. “Well? Where should I look?”

  Vinnt said, “Look at Anek’s restored eye, then up at the stars above you.”

  Enmin added, “Look into the breach, the one that slowed you.”

  Dubbik shot upright. “This ‘One’ of yours made the breach? We lost four trackers crossing that. Each of them worth ten of you. If I weren’t charged to bring you back, I’d sacrifice all of you right here.”

  He strode over to Anek. “Starting with him, fool that he is. Expecting to hold on to a woman like Cyra in a herder’s hut. I’d have cut my own throat sooner than dishonor her like that.”

  Thoughts of his humbled, shunned uncle raced through Rikk’s mind. How Anek had worked and cared for Myla, struggling on alone. He glanced at Myla’s expression of pain, eyes squeezed shut while tears tracked down her face. Hatred for the arrogant man poised above Anek, and for Cyra’s faithlessness, surged up like bile in his throat.

  “I would have your ‘One’ answer for their deaths.” Dubbik stalked over to Enmin. “Tell Him to come out of hiding and face me.”

  A flicker of a smile crossed Enmin’s face. “Perhaps you should come out of hiding and face Him.”

  Dubbik drew his dagger and slashed it across Enmin’s cheek. Enmin stared up at Dubbik while blood coursed down his face.

  “Not smiling now, are you?” Dubbik pointed the tip at Enmin’s throat.

  The man closest to Myla said, “No, Brother. Not yet. Don’t deprive our people of the pleasure of his death. Or the deaths of these other thieving strangers. And Cyra may choose to reward you with this girl.”

  He stroked Myla’s hair. “Perhaps she’ll prove to be as entertaining as your wife.”

  Disgust sickened Rikk. Myla’s head bowed down. If he could only break free! He’d keep her from the hands of these men who treated her like a trinket.

  One, I’m sorry I can’t be like Vinnt and Enmin. I want to destroy these men. They deserve it.

  Part of him resisted the fury, longed to be as steadfast as his friends. But the strength of his rage drowned it out.

  Dubbik straightened, wiped his dagger on Enmin’s shirt and laughed. “You’re right, my brother. I can wait.” He scanned the captives. “And in the morning,
we will march all of you away from this ‘One.’ Back to the Fierce Land.”

  End of Book One

  About the Author

  N.C. Bolton is a wife, mother, grandmother, jewelry maker, crochet crafter, and of course: a writer! She lives in upstate New York in a lovely scenic region known as The Fingerlakes. Widowed last year, she is comforted by her five sons, two grandchildren and a marvelous array of family and other loved ones. She loves the creative process, and puts her whole focus into the stories she writes. May you be entertained and uplifted by them!

  You visit her website here https://boltonnancy.com/

 

 

 


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