When fatigue threatened to overtake him, he stood and waved for the others to mount up. They had several more hours of travel left before daybreak.
The night grew colder, and the icy wind rendered Aibek’s face numb beneath the leather mask he’d pulled down. Only the smallest slits let him see out into the night, but it was enough to allow the bitter cold in. He shivered in his cloak, tightened his grip on the thick straps, and watched the pale landscape below. As the faintest hint of light touched the edge of the sky, Aibek spotted the welcoming darkness of the Saethem’s swamp. They’d spend the daylight hours hidden within her borders and continue on when the sun’s revealing light had vanished.
He signaled to Gworsad, who led the force down into the trees’ shelter. Gags, groans, and complaints greeted Aibek’s numb ears when he climbed down. The wintry weather had frozen the top layer of the mud, so they had firm ground to stand upon, but the swamp’s odor hadn’t diminished. The stink of rotting vegetation, animal excrement, and stagnant water brought tears to Aibek’s exhausted eyes.
“We’ll climb into the trees to sleep,” he shouted. “We’ll be warmer there, where we can stay dry.”
Aibek expected complaints, but the others only grunted and nodded.
“You sleep. We be back before night.” Gworsad stepped back and unfolded his wings, readying for flight.
“Wait,” Aibek called. “Where are you going? What if we need you?”
“You safe here. I can feel it. I talk to Bokinna’s sister before we fly tonight.”
“Give her my thanks for sheltering us.”
Gworsad rumbled, flapped his great wings, and vanished, and Aibek climbed the nearest tree. He nibbled a bit of jerky and tucked his blanket close around him. He really was grateful for the Bokinna’s protection. It meant they had no need to post a watch, so all the riders could rest from the night’s flight.
Aibek’s legs and back ached from spending so many hours atop the dragon, but he ignored the pain, settled back against the tree trunk, and fell quickly to sleep.
12
Leadership
Faruz’s mind whirled as he watched the dragons vanish into the night sky, taking his friends with them. They would fight before he saw them again. Some he may never see again. When the last of the dragons disappeared over the trees, he turned and hurried back into the safety of the village.
What would’ve become of me if I hadn’t come to Nivaka? Would I have been killed when Xona fell?
That thought led to others: of his friends, his favorite opponents in the sparring circle, and his family. He let his mind linger there for a breath, then blew away the worry. He had other problems to focus on. There was nothing he could do to help the people in the city.
“Are you all right?” Zifa asked the instant he stepped through the door.
Instead of answering, he folded her in a tight embrace and pressed his cheek into the top of her head. They sat together through the evening and retired to bed as soon as they finished supper.
Faint morning light streamed through the glass and streaked across Faruz’s face. He stretched and rolled over, reaching for Zifa, but the other side of the bed was empty and cold. Disappointed, he pushed himself out of bed, washed, and dressed for the day.
Half an hour later, he strode out into the Square. Men and women filled the space, some wearing weapons and others trailing after them. The roar of conversation couldn’t quite drown out the tears of those who would be left behind.
Faruz stepped onto the dais in the Pavilion and stomped his feet to get the crowd’s attention.
“There’s the captain!” Someone shouted. “Be quiet!”
“Thank you.” Faruz laughed, and silence fell. Booted feet shuffled on the wooden floor, the noise distracting Faruz for an instant.
Faruz cleared his throat and spread his arms. “A new day has dawned. Helak may hold the city of Xona for the day, but we will not let him keep her. You’ve proven your skill and bravery. Now, let’s show Helak and his half-trained army what we think of them! Are we going to let them take control of our government, our armies, and our weapons?”
The crowd screamed out their answer. “No!”
“And are we going to let them think this victory in Xona means they’ve won the war?”
Louder this time, the crowd shouted, “No!”
“You’re all that stands between our enemy and your freedom. You must stand strong. You must prevail. The consequences of failure aren’t even worthy of consideration.
Nay. You must fight the enemy. And you must win. You will win. Helak’s half-trained force can’t stop you!”
A cheer rose from the crowd, but Faruz kept going.
“Look around you. Failure means death to all you hold dear. You will not let that happen!”
Another cheer, louder than the first, rattled the windows in the nearby houses.
“You’ll head west along the forest’s edge to Imah and take the bridge there. We cannot risk Helak’s men in Kainga seeing so many of you take the ferry.
Aibek and the dragons will await your arrival and will help you win the city. Your enemy doesn’t have dragons. You have dragons!”
A deafening cheer rattled the timbers of the Pavilion. Faruz waited until his voice would carry above the noise.
“And you have the fight of men and women who know their families depend on them to ensure their freedom.
Now go! Be swift! And be the warriors I know you are.”
A thousand men and women streamed for the village’s entrance, the clomping of boots and clatter of weapons making it impossible to say more. Faruz followed the force. He watched with mixed emotions as they separated into smaller divisions on the ground.
Section by section, they headed off into the forest, and Faruz fought back a wave of emotion. He yearned to go with them, to free the home of his birth, to find out for himself whether or not his parents had survived Helak’s invasion. Instead, he pulled the lever that activated the stairs and watched as they slowly raised into the recess beneath the village. He locked the safety and turned back to the villagers who had stayed behind.
“All right,” he shouted. “Let’s get back to training. Only half of Helak’s force is in the city. The rest are coming for us. We have to be ready.”
He spent the rest of the morning sparring and training with the swordsmen who had stayed behind. He purged his emotions with the swing of the sword, the rhythm of the movements, and the special exercises Valasa had given him to strengthen his wounded leg.
Zifa met him at the Pavilion when they stopped for luncheon. She’d lost more weight, and he worried for her health.
“Won’t you eat at least a little of this?” He pushed a slice of cold venison toward her, but the sight of it made her gag.
“I’ll just eat this instead.” She pulled out a dry muffin and nibbled at the edge. “I’ll be fine, really.”
Faruz smiled at the shyness in her manner as she kept a hand beneath the muffin to catch any crumbs. “Have you talked to Valasa? Does he know why you’ve been so sick or how to make you better?”
Zifa flushed and dropped her gaze, and Faruz frowned in confusion. “Is it still the trees’ sickness? I thought that was getting better?”
“No, it’s something else,” Zifa said. She dropped her gaze to the floor and smiled. “Valasa thinks I’m with child.”
The weight of the upcoming battle, the forest’s tenuous freedom, the uncertain future with the groundfolk, all passed through Faruz’s mind, and he felt the color drain from his face. “Are you sure?” He heard himself ask.
“I’m not certain, but Valasa seems to be. Are you all right? Maybe you should lie down.”
Faruz shook his head, and the trees spun around him.
A child. A baby. A little tiny Zifa depending on him. Needing a safe place to grow up.
“I’m all right. Promise me you’ll evacuate before the battle.” When she didn’t answer, he grabbed her shoulders. “Promise! You have to keep yo
urself safe.”
Instead of a response, she leaned in close and wrapped her arms around his waist. He leaned into her warmth, and she pressed her face to his neck. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, until approaching footsteps drew Faruz’s attention away.
A very young-looking soldier in Nivaka’s bright green messenger uniform stood before him, clutching a bit of parchment in his hands. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Captain, but I’ve got a message for you.”
Faruz took the parchment and instantly recognized Valasa’s cramped script. He scanned the note. The council wanted to meet in Valasa’s upstairs sitting room immediately, though the note didn’t say who had called the meeting.
He leaned back, kissed the top of Zifa’s head, and stood. “We’re wanted for a council meeting,” he said, holding out a hand for Zifa.
She wobbled a bit and Faruz frowned and pressed an arm around her waist.
“I’m all right.” She laughed. “I just stood up too fast.”
He didn’t release her.
“Really. I’m fine.” As if to prove her point, she pulled away and strode off towards Valasa’s house without looking to see if Faruz had followed.
He smiled and hurried after his wife, his head still spinning with visions of his budding family. He was going to be a father! He just had to make sure his child would have a safe place to grow up. Zifa walked ahead of him and he examined her skinny frame. Her dress hung loose on her shoulders and draped over her hips. He’d heard stories of women dying from complications of pregnancy and childbirth. He’d have to talk to Valasa about how to keep her well before he left the healer’s home.
Ahren, Wayra, and Dalan were already there when Faruz followed his wife into the sitting room. Valasa closed the door behind him and called the meeting to order.
“This is a different situation than we’ve faced before.” Valasa’s voice stayed soft, which sent shivers up Faruz’s spine. Valasa never spoke softly. “Aibek will likely be gone for the entire winter and may never return. His mission is exceptionally dangerous.” The large healer drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “It’s never been done before, but I think it would be wise to select an interim mayor to be the council’s voice with the people until this is all sorted out.”
None of the council members spoke. Indeed, Faruz felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Aibek hadn’t even been gone a day. Replacing him felt… wrong somehow.
“I think it would be best for us to choose someone from the council, then present that person to the villagers.” Valasa clasped his hands behind his back and faced the council.
Silence.
“Don’t just stare at me like that. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Valasa flushed, and Faruz realized he’d never seen the Gadonu look uncomfortable before that moment.
Faruz hesitated. He had to say something. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, sir, but Aibek and the others just left last night. Shouldn’t we wait a bit before we replace them?”
“We’re not replacing anyone.” Valasa sank down onto the empty chair in front of the window. “We’re just making sure there’s a clear chain of command for the upcoming battle.”
Faruz smiled and a weight lifted from his shoulders. “That does sound like a good idea. But Aibek is still the mayor, right?”
“Of course.”
The others sighed and relaxed into their chairs. Faruz leaned back. He glanced from face to face and considered who would be the best leader for Nivaka until Aibek returned.
Dalan. He decided. He’s training to be the Gadonu, and has proven his ability to stand up and take the lead when needed.
“There are only four of you, so this could go badly, but let’s try writing down votes without discussing it, first.” Valasa handed out bits of paper, pens, and ink pots.
Each council member wrote on their paper, blew the ink dry, folded it, and handed it back to Valasa, who dropped them into a small bowl.
Without hesitation, Valasa unfolded the first bit of paper. “Faruz.”
Faruz felt as if someone had dumped ice water over his head. He wasn’t from Nivaka. He had no family there. He didn’t deserve to be their mayor — or even their interim mayor.
Valasa pulled another bit of paper out of the bowl and opened it out. “Dalan.”
Good. He should be the mayor in Aibek’s absence.
Another bit of paper crinkled. “Faruz.”
Faruz couldn’t raise his head as Valasa opened the last vote. “Faruz. I think that’s as close to unanimous as we could get. Do you have anything to say?”
The emotions of the day were too much for Faruz to hold back. He was going to be a father. Now, he was also the acting mayor of Nivaka until Aibek returned. Battle loomed on the horizon. Faruz choked back a lump the size of his fist and stood.
“Thank you.” The words came out a hoarse whisper, but he didn’t think he could do any better. Zifa reached up and grabbed his hand. The warmth of her palm gave him strength and he tried again. “Thank you all. Your faith in me means a lot. I’ll do my best to be worthy of it.”
Dalan’s face lifted in a comforting smile. “You already have, friend. You know how to lead better than anyone here — your speech this morning proved that.”
“Let’s have a bit of refreshment before we announce your decision to the villagers.” Valasa gestured to the buffet, which had been laid with water, famanc, and dozens of cakes and pastries.
Faruz watched to make sure Zifa ate. When he was satisfied she’d gotten some nourishment, he pulled the healer into a corner.
“Zifa told me she’s with child,” he blurted out.
The tension on Valasa’s face evaporated into a delighted smile. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Why has she been so sick? She’s so skinny now. How will she make it through the winter if she can’t eat any decent food?” All of Faruz’s worries tumbled out, unfiltered.
Valasa pressed a hand down on Faruz’s shoulder. “I’ve seen women much sicker do just fine. This will likely only last another few weeks, and then she’ll feel better. For now, let her eat whatever sounds good to her, and encourage her to drink plenty of water.”
“Are you sure? I mean…” Faruz stared at his wife where she stood laughing with Ahren. “She’s only eating cakes and muffins and breads. Shouldn’t she have at least some broth or something?”
“If she feels up to it, that’s fine, but don’t push it. It’s better for her to keep down a cake than to vomit a cup of broth.”
“That makes sense, I guess.”
Faruz woke before the sun and eased out of bed. Zifa mumbled softly and rolled over, and he smiled. Moving as quietly as he could, Faruz dressed and headed to the kitchen, where he ate a hasty breakfast and grabbed a few muffins for his pack.
The training schedule hadn’t changed, even though so many other things had. Two weeks had passed since he’d been chosen as the interim mayor, and he’d struggled with balancing all the different responsibilities. He’d had to schedule days to hear concerns from the villagers and mediate disputes — how Aibek did that every day Faruz couldn’t fathom — and other days to observe the army’s preparations. And, of course, he still had to train with the Kurim twice a week and with the dragons two more days a week. He collapsed into bed each night exhausted. Thankfully, the cook worked hard to make sure Zifa got at least a little sustenance. He didn’t think he could have handled everything without knowing Tangwen had Zifa’s health in mind.
He closed the front door behind him without a sound, hoping to let Zifa sleep a bit longer, and hurried to the south entrance. There, just a few hundred yards beyond the village’s border, his dragon waited. Gamne wasn’t as large as Gworsad or as fast as Tukanli, but he was agile and intelligent, and had been a perfect match for Faruz’s skills.
“Good morning,” he said, approaching the dragon. “What do we have planned for today?”
The dragon chirruped and rumbled. He lowered his head for Faruz to pat and said, “Bokinna say you
practice quick attacks today. Says you too slow to get away.”
Faruz threw back his head and laughed. “That sounds like a challenge.”
He wound the thick blue straps around Gamne’s chest and front legs and climbed up onto his back. “Let’s go!”
The dragon lifted off the ground and flew him toward the Heart of the Forest. Faruz’s chest tightened as they approached, his mind on Serik and his mortal wounds. They landed in the clearing, and again, there was no sign of the elderly servant. Faruz sighed and began to loosen the straps from his legs. Someday, he’d be able to land there without thinking of Aibek’s loss of control and Serik’s dying words.
“Don’t get down.” The Bokinna’s powerful voice carried on the wind, freezing him in place more effectively than the winter weather could.
“My friends have arranged a practice battlefield for you at the south clearing. You need to work on speed. Strike. Kill the enemy. Get away quickly. There will be consequences if you aren’t fast enough. You may not use the seeds today.”
Faruz smiled. “I love a challenge. Let’s go!”
The dragon bore him into the air and toward the south clearing, where they had first set up the dummies several weeks before.
Gamne swooped down into the clearing, and Faruz drew his practice sword. He held his breath as the dragon drew nearer to the first target, then struck out as quickly as he could. The sword made contact, the impact nearly pulling the dull weapon from Faruz’s hands, and he drew it back and nudged Gamne to climb.
“Not fast enough.” The Bokinna whispered.
A long, willowy tree branch struck out, reaching for Faruz’s wrist, but he pulled back at the last second and Gamne lifted him to safety.
Faruz whooped with the thrill of the game and clutched his sword. Gamne tucked his wings and dove back into the clearing. Faruz positioned himself to strike, his eyes focused on the next target.
The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set Page 69