The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set

by Leslie E Heath

  When they arrived, the crowd startled Aibek. At least a hundred people had gathered in the small park and milled about in clusters and groups.

  Ayja greeted Aibek and Faruz with a wide smile. “I think our small picnic got a little out of hand. I hope you don’t mind. Everyone wants a chance to get to know you.”

  Faruz laughed and said, “That’s fine with me! I want to meet all of them, too.”

  Dalan led Aibek and Faruz through the park, introducing them to each person. The group of sparring partners stayed together through the luncheon. Several young ladies gathered to meet the man who would likely be the new mayor, and Aibek tried to be gracious and friendly despite the nervous knot in his stomach.

  While Aibek struggled to conceal his anxiety, Faruz basked in the attention. Before long, a group of giggling girls surrounded him. Faruz entertained them for a while with jokes and tall tales from his days at the academy. Eventually, he extricated himself and heaped another serving of fruit and pheasant on his plate. When he finished eating, he walked around the picnic area, smiling and laughing with a lovely dark-haired woman before returning to his friends and the dessert table.

  Aibek kept an eye on his friend while he chatted with Ayja and her friends. He’d always wished he could be as relaxed in a crowd as Faruz.

  Despite his nervousness, he enjoyed mixing and mingling with the villagers. This had been Aibek’s aim since he'd arrived. He beamed at the realization that Ahren’s small group seemed to be a distinct minority in thinking him unworthy, and everyone else seemed glad to meet him. A few young women were hesitant, but none were unfriendly or angry as Ahren had been. Overall, Aibek considered it a satisfactory afternoon, and he exited the picnic area happy and more relaxed than he’d been since he'd left Xona. It would be good to help these people, but beyond that, he'd love to be one of them. Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible to be the mayor.

  As they were leaving the meeting area, a tall, muscular man with a shiny bald head and a scraggly beard ran to them and introduced himself in a breathless, rushed voice.

  “Excuse me, sirs.” He nodded respectfully to Aibek, then turned to Dalan. “My name is Amiran. I am guarding the west entrance today, so we don’t get taken by surprise again. Anyway, two men came this afternoon. They say Helak sent them. We’ve taken them to the Meeting Hall and told them we were going to find the governor. What should we do now?”

  His jerky motions, shaking hands, and disjointed speech said more clearly than words how panicked the man was, and Aibek tried to calm him.

  “We knew someone would come eventually. At least it’s only two men. Why don’t you take us to them? We’ll see if we can get some information from these visitors.” He looked around at his companions, hoping they wouldn’t mind being included in this assignment. He needn’t have worried. Every member of the group immediately voiced his assent.

  Aibek trailed behind the others and tried to pay attention to his surroundings as they rushed through the village. He realized as they ran that he needed to spend some time just wandering around to learn his way through the town. It was a surprising distance from the park on the edge of the village to the Square. He’d been so focused on his nervousness that morning that he hadn’t paid much attention to where they went.

  When they finally stopped, he panted, “Hold on, I need to catch my breath.” He braced his hands on his knees and focused on his breathing.

  The others leaned against trees or assumed the same bent-over posture and worked to slow their breathing. After a short while, Dalan straightened and moved to the front of the small group.

  “I’ll do most of the talking if that’s all right with you.” His eyes searched Aibek’s. “I know more about the governor and the answers they’re looking for. You all pitch in if I miss anything.” He glanced around at his friends, seeking agreement. When he had received the go-ahead from everyone present, he opened the door and led them inside.

  Deep shadows painted the room in strange shapes. The only lighted lamp was next to the door, illuminating only a small area of the cavernous space. Rows of chairs lined up around the room, forming a semi-circle around a large table at the back of the space. Two fierce-looking men sat at the table, heads bent close in quiet conversation. They looked up from their discussion and frowned at the young men walking down the center aisle toward them.

  “Who are you, and what do you want here?” Dalan started questioning before he had even made it halfway to the table.

  “I come long way to see Tavan,” the dark, wild-haired man on the left spat angrily, “not the local children.”

  “I asked who you are. It would be wise of you to answer the questions since we’re all armed, and you are not,” Dalan retorted as he drew himself up to his full height.

  “Where Tavan? And why we have to give up our weapons? Helak’s still in charge,” the short, dark man declared as he and his companion both rose to their feet on the far side of the table.

  The other man, though taller than the speaker, otherwise looked similar. They both had the same wild, untamed hair and beard, but the other stranger’s black, pointed teeth made him appear much more dangerous and frightening. They glared at the villagers while they waited for a response. Dalan stared back, and Aibek watched to see how the younger man would handle this difficult situation.

  Alija finally spoke, ending the stare-down. “Tavan is dead. So are all his guards, advisers, and assistants. You will be too if you don’t answer our questions.” His blonde hair caught what little light the lamp put out, ringing his face in white fire.

  Dalan moved closer to the men at the table. “What do you want here? Why have you come?”

  The short visitor’s hands twitched at his sides, and Aibek inched closer. After a long moment, the man on the right spoke again. Aibek had to listen carefully to decipher their distinctive dialect.

  “I thought that might be. I Siddet, and this Namay. Helak send us. We need know why Tavan stop sendin’ reg’lar messages. Who kill him?” The short man stood ramrod straight with his head tilted back. His eyes narrowed to slits, and his mouth twisted into a sneer.

  Every movement was deliberate and careful, and Aibek wondered if he was about to turn on them. He looked around at his companions and nodded. Each one had a hand on his sword.

  Aibek advanced to stand at arms’ length from the messengers. “We’ll ask the questions. Why would anyone want control of this tiny, remote village? What could your leader possibly gain from it? We’re not strategically located, and there’s no nearby river or highway to the city or the sea.”

  Even with all his military training, or maybe because of it, he couldn’t make any sense of the overlord’s drive to control the forest. His stomach twisted into a heavy knot. The tense standoff would likely end soon, so didn’t take his eyes off the intruders. He stood with his feet braced for attack, his hand on his sword and looked the man called Siddet straight in the eye as he spoke.

  Before he finished, Namay spat at him. “We not goin’ tell you a ting. Helak don’ care ‘bout this nuttin’ lil village. He squash you all, even the lil teeny people hidin’ under yer town.”

  Without taking his eyes off Aibek, Siddet raised a hand to silence his companion. “Why I tell you a ting? If you was goin’ kill us, you’d have done it by now.” He barked a short, humorless laugh. “Whatsamatta, din’t your papa teach you howta use dat sword?”

  Aibek refused to be distracted but repeated, “Why does he want this village?”

  As fast as lightning, Siddet leapt over the table and lunged for Aibek, grappling for his sword and kicking at his feet in an attempt to get an advantage over the much larger man.

  “Hey!” Aibek shouted and shoved at the desperate man. As the messenger stumbled backward a step, Aibek unsheathed his sword, only dimly aware of his friends rushing forward at his sides.

  His adversary regained his footing, spun, and ran toward the back of the room with Aibek close on his heels. He jerked open the door to the right o
f the table and disappeared into the darkness.

  * * *

  Before Faruz could register what was happening, Namay thrust a pointy elbow into his ribs and sprinted for the main door. Alija and Wayra gave chase, and Faruz took after them as soon as realization struck. His ribs smarting with every breath, he caught up with the other men several paces from the door. Alija held out his sword, pointed directly at the messenger’s throat. Faruz watched as they moved step by slow step toward the outermost row of chairs. He stood back, breathless, until the enemy stumbled, then lurched to his right—and ran smack into Faruz’s chest.

  “Oomph!” Faruz grunted, then grabbed the messenger by his hair and dragged him to the nearest chair. Wayra and Alija closed the circle, each with a blade aimed at their adversary.

  * * *

  Aibek kicked the door open and stopped just inside to gain his bearings. Dalan came hurtling through the door behind him and nearly smacked into his back in the darkness. His eyes adjusted enough that he could make out a storage room, with neatly arranged chairs and tables near the front of the space where Aibek stood. There was a row of tiny windows near the ceiling, but they were so dirty only a few slivers of light penetrated into the room. The cavernous size of the chamber surprised Aibek. The building hadn't looked large enough from the outside to house this. His footsteps echoed in the dimness as he advanced farther into the space.

  He scanned the room for the man called Siddet and spotted him standing near a row of tables shoved against the wall. Between them, broken chairs and tables stacked on top of each other littered the floor. When Aibek started toward him, the cornered enemy ran farther into the room, throwing more chairs on the floor and overturning tables as he went. Aibek gestured to Dalan to circle to the right and indicated he would go left. In the center of the room stood a ceiling-high, impassable mass of mangled wood that looked as if it might once have been an enormous sculpture

  Aibek picked his way through the room, careful not to trip in the cluttered space. He took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart and fought the urge to spit when dust filled his mouth and nose. His breathing echoed in the large space as he closed in on his adversary, and he could hear Dalan kicking broken pieces of wood out of his way as he moved around the other side of the room. The shouts from the Meeting Hall had fallen silent, so Aibek hoped his new friends had subdued the other messenger.

  He glanced over to check on Dalan’s progress, and in that instant a chair leg flew toward his head from the other side of the room. The splintered wood stung like a bee as it grazed his cheek and he winced, wiping away blood with his sleeve.

  * * *

  Faruz shouted, “Why does Helak want control of our village?” He struggled to keep his sword steady as his hand trembled from the adrenaline coursing through his body.

  “I not tellin’ you anyt’ing,” Namay spat through clenched teeth.

  Alija pressed the tip of his sword to the enemy’s chest and said, “You called this a nothing little village. Why would he care what we do?” He pressed forward until a bead of scarlet welled onto the tip of his sword.

  The fierce-looking man pressed back against the wooden chair, dropped his head, and stared at the floor between Alija’s feet.

  “He plannin’ ta cut the shadow wood ta build da strongest city eva. He’s already drawn up da plans.”

  Faruz winced at the grinding noise when the warrior shoved an impossibly long black fingernail between his teeth. He continued the grinding for a long moment, then dropped his hands to his lap and looked into Alija’s face.

  “You unda-stand how spes-ial these trees are? Dat wood is strong, light, and canna’ burn—the perfect buildin’ mater’al, and easy ’nough to move about.”

  At the moment he finished speaking, he kicked Alija’s hand, sending the sword skidding across the floor. He leapt for the loose weapon, crashing into Wayra and sending the unsuspecting villager sprawling.

  * * *

  “Is that the best you can do?” Aibek taunted as he jumped over a table and sped toward his adversary.

  This time, a chair flew through the air, landing with a crash beside him.

  Siddet grumbled as he overturned another table, “You don’ even know da waste dis is! Dis wood worth more dan gold, but it sit here like pile of dirt.”

  Aibek ducked away from a flying painting and crept closer to his adversary. He tried to keep track of Dalan in the dimness of the room and thought he saw his companion moving toward him from behind the sculpture-thing. Aibek’s head throbbed again, but he ignored it and focused on Siddet. They were only a few paces apart now.

  He tried to take a deep breath but choked on the dust filling the air. He bent his knees, poised to jump over the last obstacle, but before he could leap, the shorter man lunged over the broken table and tumbled into him. It was all Aibek could do to hold onto his sword as he fell.

  They landed in a heap on the floor, throwing up another cloud of dust, and Aibek rose to his knees as he pummeled at the man’s face and neck with his free hand. Siddet lunged for the sword, but Aibek was quicker. He swung the weapon and slashed at the messenger’s thigh. The dark man grunted and rolled to the side, struggled to his feet, and grabbed a splintered table leg, wielding it like a spear in front of his chest. Aibek leapt to his feet and kicked the makeshift weapon, sending it flying across the room.

  At that moment, Dalan jumped over a broken chair beside Siddet. He landed with a grunt and dispatched the messenger with a swift slash to his throat. The man stumbled and fell, making an awful gurgling, gagging noise before silence descended in the room. Breathing heavily, the friends moved back toward the door, blood dripping from their blades.

  * * *

  Faruz’s heart pounded against his ribs as he jumped to catch Namay, who raced toward the exit. Namay clumsily swung Wayra’s sword. The blade was too long for the man’s smaller size. Faruz easily blocked the blow, lunged forward with his own weapon, and sliced into the inner part of his enemy’s upper arm. Crimson blood spurted from the wound and Namay dropped his sword. He stumbled backward, impaling himself on Alija’s ready blade. With a shocked expression, Alija yanked his weapon free of the messenger and watched, eyes wide with horror, as the fierce man coughed a fountain of blood and fell, silent, to the floor.

  * * *

  The woman tugged hard on the front of Tamyr’s apron, all but dragging her down the boardwalk toward the center of town. “We have to hurry.”

  “What’s going on?” Tamyr broke the younger woman’s grasp. “Where are we going?”

  “Someone came looking for Tavan! Maybe they can take me with them when they report back to their leader. I’m sure Helak will be overjoyed to learn that Tavan fathered a child!”

  Tamyr stopped in the middle of the boardwalk and stared at her pretty young friend. “You plan to tell complete strangers about your predicament?” She began to shout. “You haven’t even told your father!” She shook her head and grabbed her friend by the shoulders. “What will your family think when you disappear with these men? Will they come after you? Get themselves killed in some misguided attempt to save you?”

  Tamyr had been worried about her friend lately. The pretty young woman had been distraught since Tavan died, especially since a few days later she’d discovered she was carrying his child. Her family was important in the village and wouldn’t likely accept the baby.

  “I have to try!” The woman sobbed and yanked free of Tamyr’s grasp. “I thought you understood. My family won’t accept this child. They hated Tavan. They’re happy he’s dead. I had hoped they could get to know him—that they’d come to love him as much as I did—but there’s no chance for that now.” She began running down the deserted boardwalk once again. “Maybe Helak’s people can help me raise the child.”

  Tamyr raced after her friend, following close behind until they reached the edge of the Pavilion. They stopped under the edge of the large structure, unable to move forward through the wall of villagers. The woman paused,
wiping her face on her sleeve and looking around. Tamyr followed as she crept around the border of the crowd toward the front of the Pavilion.

  “Eddrick’s son just ran right in.” Tamyr heard one man tell the person standing beside him. “He’ll take care of us now.”

  Tamyr’s friend gasped and spun back the way they’d come, nearly colliding with Tamyr. The washwoman wrapped her arms around her friend’s small form and walked her back toward the rear of the crowd. They could wait there until someone emerged from the Meeting Hall.

  10

  Council

  Aibek stepped out of the dusty room and inhaled, letting the fresh, clean air of the main meeting space clean the dust from his nose and throat. He scanned the room and saw the other messenger lying on the floor near the back of the hall. He wasn’t moving. Faruz and the rest of their group stood nearby. Their heads were close together, but they all looked up as he and Dalan moved toward them.

  Breathless and shaking from the fight, Aibek sank into a chair near his friends. “Is everyone all right?”

  Faruz nodded. “We’re all fine. What happened in there?”

  Dalan filled them in on the events in the storage room. “We didn’t get any information out of him.”

  Alija gestured to the dead man. “Well, his friend told us everything we wanted to know, but Valasa’s going to want to hear about this, too.”

  They filed out of the hall and found Valasa and the village elders waiting with a crowd in the Pavilion. The assembled villagers fell silent when the friends stepped under the roof. Dalan announced that the enemies were dead, drawing cheers from the villagers and a concerned look from the religious leader.