Shaking the blood from her blade, Aiva returned it to its sheath. The adrenaline rush was beginning to fade. Soon her injuries would become more noticeable and she didn’t want to be standing there when the pain set in. “We should keep on the track,” she stated with eerie calm, her voice lacking the tremble she already felt building in her knees.
Uttae shook his head, motioning in the direction of the river. “We have already acquired our target,” he smiled. “All that is left now is our return to Ghaient. However, it seems we will return with two trophies instead of one.”
“You spotted more than one orkteid?” Aiva asked in disbelief. Uttae chuckled, a proud gleam in his eyes.
“No, Princess. I referred to your kill. To defeat a tiger within the jungle is quite an accomplishment. Even the most courageous warriors do not attempt to fight the majestic beast.”
Aiva glanced at Kroth, aware of his eyes upon her. He was rigid. Gazing at her with what appeared to be wonder. “The spirits are strong within her,” he said quietly. “I thought the men spoke in… exaggeration.”
“She certainly is a powerful witch,” Uttae nodded, staring out into the trees. “Kroth, come with me to gather wood. If we use the vines, we can fashion a means of dragging the bodies behind us with more ease. I would like to be on the way to Ghaient within the hour. With two carcasses, our scent will draw more predators if we don’t keep moving. We will have to be careful come nightfall. One of us will have to keep watch at all times.”
“Why can we not continue in the dark?” Aiva questioned. They had their prize. Every second they remained in the jungle increased the possibility of another hunter beating them to the finish line.
“I think you answered your own question. Your people may be able to see through the dark, but we are not so blessed. It is safer to traverse the paths with light.”
“If light is the only concern, I can alleviate that,” she stated, hopeful. Extending her hand, she focused the energy to her palm. The blue glow brightened at her command, Kroth’s eyes opening wider at the display. “Let us not stop. We could be in Ghaient by morning. Such a hasty victory would add to your praise, don’t you think, General?”
Uttae pondered the thought. He looked tempted. Aiva hoped that she could successfully play at his weakness. “You think you could maintain the light for the entire evening?”
“With ease,” she smiled, closing her hand into a fist to extinguish the soft glow. “If we give pause, there is risk of another hunting party returning before us. Continued movement will secure our victory.”
Facing Kroth, Uttae spoke in the unusual grunts and odd sounds of the Tuniron language. They were deep in conversation, poring over Aiva’s suggestion. With a definitive nod Uttae finally turned back to Aiva. “As you wish, Princess,” he said calmly. “If you help us arrange the animals, we will find our way to Ghaient without rest. I know you are anxious to return to your husband, and after your brave display, you are more than deserving of that simple request.”
It was all she could do to keep from wrapping her arms around him in a grateful embrace. She would be at the palace by morning. Callum would be so happy to see her! “Thank you,” she smiled, hands clasped to keep from waving them about in her excitement. After gaining their respect with her defeat of the tiger, the last thing she wanted was to make herself look like a blubbering fool. “Let us move, then,” she nodded, clearing her throat. “The more ground we cover before dark, the better. I think all of us will be pleased with a hasty return to claim our victory.”
Chapter Twenty
The road to Ghaient felt longer on the path. Climbing trees wasn’t an option while dragging the carcasses of their prey. They fashioned a sled out of branches and vines, placing the bodies on top of the wood. It eased some of the strain of their weight, but not enough for Aiva’s comfort. The tiger was her kill. It fell on her shoulders to see it back to King Ihklos. Uttae insisted the King be presented with the remains of the beast, and she wasn’t about to argue his commands.
She lingered behind, staring absently at the body of the orkteid. It was a strange animal. Similar to the stags in Tanispa, as Uttae had described, yet very different. Physically larger. The antlers were wider, twisting in various directions like lumps of bone extending from the head. It didn’t appear their antlers were used for piercing, but for bludgeoning their prey or enemy with the blunt surface. Although it looked an intimidating beast, she found the tiger more frightening. If King Ihklos didn’t retract his insults about her strength, she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t give him a piece of her mind.
When the sun rose to signal the coming of morning, Aiva’s body ached, reminded of her tumble from the tree by the discomfort throughout her back and shoulders. Supporting the weight of the tiger was doing nothing to ease the pain, her features contorted into an agonized grimace. Her only reprieve had been through the darkest hours of the night when Uttae took over her burden so her light could guide them along the way.
Ghaient couldn’t be far. Uttae and Kroth had begun a lighthearted chatter between them, their words nothing more than incoherent noise to Aiva’s exhausted senses. She couldn’t be sure if they were speaking in their native tongue or if lethargy disallowed her from understanding her own familiar language.
The gap between her and the men was lengthening. She needed to rest. Her body screamed with fatigue and injury. The lacerations on her arms looked worse under the morning light. Blood stained the skin from her biceps down to her fingers. All she knew was that there was no time to waste in examining the extent of the wounds. She just wanted to be back in the village. To let Callum know she was alive.
Up ahead she could see the outline of Ghaient’s stone structures. They were like a beacon of light in that moment. She was there. Only a little further and she could rest.
The men quickened their pace, oblivious to Aiva’s pathetic attempts to keep up. She felt ready to collapse. But no, she couldn’t let that happen. Ihklos would poke fun at her for the show of weakness. No matter what happened, she needed to stay on her feet. To make him see that she was strong. It was easier said than done. She didn’t feel strong. She hoped the truth of her physical condition would be better concealed once she could rid herself of the excess weight attached to her shoulders by the vines.
When she reached the entrance of the palace her legs were trembling. She was so close! Pausing to catch her breath she nodded to the guards. Their eyes shifted between her and the creature tied to the branches. She could only imagine what she must look like to them. Shaking and blood-covered with a giant jungle cat corpse at her feet.
From inside she could see Uttae’s broad figure appear, a look of relief crossing over his face to find her there. “You had us worried,” he chided, beckoning her forward. “Kroth and I thought you were right behind us. We didn’t notice you gone until the King questioned your absence.”
“Tigers are not exactly light creatures,” she sighed. Slowly, she undid the vines from around her shoulders, gripping them in her hands to get a better hold while dragging the body up the palace steps. Noticing her struggle, Uttae assisted until they had it on level ground, immediately releasing his hold to place the weight back in Aiva’s hands. He remained at her side to lead her down the corridors, motioning for her to enter the throne room.
She inhaled, forcing her legs to move. This was it. Just a few more steps…
All around the room she could hear the gasps from everyone present. To her left she was aware of Callum’s voice calling her name, silenced by a harsh grunt from Enokih. King Ihklos was seated at his throne, immediately rising to his feet at the sight of her. Dragging the tiger to the middle of the floor Aiva let the vines drop from her hands, staring at Ihklos sternly. “It is no orkteid, but perhaps this will do to appease your desire to test my strength.”
“General, is this some kind of joke?” Ihklos laughed, the sound echoing through the spacious room. “Did you kill this beast and send her in to claim it as her own?”
“Kroth?” Ihklos cast a puzzled glance to where Kroth stood near the orkteid corpse at the door. “Is this true? Did the witch take the beast down?”
Lifting his chin high, Kroth gave a sharp nod. “I saw with my eyes. The witch fought alone.”
Ihklos held Aiva’s gaze. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He didn’t want to believe she was capable of such a feat, finding nothing to prove the claim false. He had no choice but to accept it as fact. “Very well,” he frowned. “Part of me hoped to see her return empty-handed. No insult to your people, Princess. My intent was to keep you in Tunir longer so that I may study you. To discover what secrets you possess to the power of the spirits. But I am a man of my word. You were promised a boat to the north islands if you proved yourself during the hunt. I would be a fool not to consider your performance exemplary.”
“You will assist us, then?” Aiva asked hopefully. Her legs moved forward, stumbling slightly from the exhaustion. She wanted to sit down. Sleep. She needed to sleep.
“I will arrange a unit of men to take you to shore in the morning. You and your husband must at least remain in Ghaient for the victory feast.”
“Aiva…” Callum’s voice called again. She allowed her head to turn in his direction, eyes narrowed to see Enokih’s hand pressed to his chest, preventing him from coming to her. It would be a simple task for him to push through her hold. He remained in place out of respect, not wanting to create a scene.
A loud grunt sounded from the door. “Enokih, let him go,” Uttae commanded. “He is not your charge anymore.”
In a rustle of fabric from Enokih’s cloak she released her hold on Callum. Aiva’s lips curled into a joyful smile to see him coming closer, his legs moving at a run, arms open wide to embrace her. Involuntarily she gasped at the pressure of his hold, pain spreading throughout her back. At the sound of her discomfort he loosened his grip, staring at her in concern. “Aiva, what is it? Are you hurt?”
“It is nothing,” she replied quietly, sinking against him for support. It was reassuring to know that Callum would catch her if she fell. “I’m just happy to be back.”
“I didn’t know you would be gone so long. I’ve been worried…”
“I’m so sorry, Callum. When we parted ways, I honestly believed I would return by nightfall. It wasn’t until we were prepared to leave Ghaient that General Uttae mentioned the possibility of our departure being more… extended. The gods must have been with me, however. We tracked our target early within the second day.”
Callum gazed at her, his demeanor somber. “I want to hold you but I’m afraid of causing you greater injury. We should get you cleaned up. The marks on your arms look deep.”
“They’re quite alright,” Aiva argued. She struggled to straighten her posture, finding the task too difficult in her condition. It throbbed. Discomfort radiated throughout her midsection, causing her to wheeze with every breath. “I just need to sit down,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I will find somewhere for you to rest.” He was looking her over closely. She knew her exhaustion and pain would be obvious to him. He knew her too well. As long as no mention was made to Ihklos, she would have no fear of being forced to endure Enokih’s medical treatment. Aware of Aiva’s weakened state, he secured his arm underneath her shoulders to support her weight, turning to Ihklos proudly. “If we are to stay for the victory feast, I must be so bold as to request somewhere for my wife to clean herself before the evening.”
Ihklos waved his hand to one of the servants beside his throne, nodding to Callum in approval. “Of course,” he agreed. “We would not want her looking such a mess for dinner. One of my men will show you both to your quarters. Tonight we can continue our discussion about your departure. For now, I must focus on getting word to the other hunters. If you will excuse me.”
Moving past them both, Ihklos stepped into the hallway with Uttae on his heels. Aiva wasn’t sure how they intended to get any message to the others still lost in the jungle. At that moment she couldn’t bring herself to care. All that mattered was that she was back. She was alive. And they would be leaving in the morning.
The servant said nothing as he approached. He gave only a motion of his head to direct them to follow, swiftly guiding them from the throne room into the darker corridors of the palace. Callum remained at Aiva’s side, arm strong under her shoulders. She was grateful for his assistance. It was easier to feign strength when she was able to rely on his to keep her on her feet. His own injuries seemed forgotten in his concern for her. If the pressure of her body against his caused him pain, he gave no indication, only a look of determination while leading her after the servant.
The halls all looked the same. How those who lived within the walls remembered their way around was impressive. The only difference between each individual room was the markings carved into the surface of the entryways. They came to a stop outside a simple wooden door, the etching that of a young Tuniron warrior kneeling at the feet of what Aiva could only assume was the King. A sword was being offered to the young man while a shrouded figure stood at his side, hands rested upon the man’s shoulders. Symbols like words were written beneath the image, though the foreign shapes left Aiva clueless to their meaning.
Pushing the door open, the servant made no move to step inside, only gesturing them onward. Callum gave a gracious nod to the man, helping Aiva into the room while the servant closed the door behind them. Aiva took in their surroundings, unsurprised to discover it no different from the quarters they stayed in while at Uttae’s home. A large hammock-style bed hung from posts near the back of the room. Little else decorated the walls other than a handcrafted wooden stool situated in the far right corner and a long mirror hung to the left. On the floor was a rug which appeared fashioned from the hide of some unknown animal. She couldn’t bring herself to think on what it might be.
“Lie down,” Callum said gently, helping her to the bed and off her feet. “I will see about retrieving some water to wash your wounds.”
“Callum, that really isn’t necessary…” she sighed, knowing it was no use. He was already out the door, leaving it open a crack as he disappeared down the hall. What did it matter now? A little water might do her some good. She was curious of the severity of her injuries. Her ankle continued to throb. It was moveable, which was a good sign. She was consoled in the fact that it wasn’t broken.
The bed was remarkably comfortable despite its simplicity. While in Iachoor she had only lain upon their bed once. It had been pleasant then. More so than the emptiness she felt while lying there now, devoid of Callum’s warmth at her side. Silently she waited for his return, anxious to see his face appear in the doorway.
Though she longed to be reunited with the others in Luquarr, a part of her was filled with dread at the thought. In their company she would be forced to keep her distance from Callum. It would be improper for them to spend the amount of time together that they had while in Tunir, not to mention the behavior they had taken to. Such playfulness would be considered immature and frowned upon by the judgmental eyes of the court. Oh, how she preferred the freedom from their scrutiny! But why did she worry? Once she was able to speak with Callum and call off the annulment, it wouldn’t matter what anyone at court thought. They would be the Crown Prince and Princess. Heirs to the throne. Above the opinions of anyone other than the King and Queen.
Aiva jumped at every sound, gazing hopefully toward the door, her heart falling in her chest to find nothing there. When Callum finally returned she thought she might cry from happiness, though it seemed a foolish reaction to have. There was no reason for tears. You’re just tired. You need to sleep. The stress and exertion of the past two days had been overwhelming. Somehow it affected her worse than the sleepless nights in Carpaen and Palinon. At least in
the desert there were no trees from which to fall.
He closed the door behind him, a bucket clutched in his left hand, water sloshing over the sides with every step he took in his haste to reach the bedside. “I think I have everything we need to patch you up,” he stated distractedly, setting the bucket on the floor next to the rug. “They were able to provide me a needle and thread in case the lacerations require sutures, which at a glance, I believe they will.”
“I still have not recovered from the last time you sewed me together. Let’s try to avoid that again if possible,” she exhaled. Her body was too tired to handle the pain of sutures with any poise. If he insisted on mending the cuts, she was convinced she would fall to pieces at his hands.
“We will see,” he nodded, kneeling on the rug to look her over carefully. “Other than your arms, I’m unsure what exactly pains you. Can you tell me what hurts so I can try to determine your injuries?”
Just being in his presence was relaxing. She wanted nothing more than to ask him into bed with her so she could curl up next to him and lose herself in sleep. But that was hardly appropriate. Away from watchful eyes or not, it didn’t seem wise to make a habit of falling asleep in the same bed. It was too soon and she still had much to tell him before letting them become so close. “It’s nothing,” she lied, propping her upper body on her elbows, face contorted in pain from the effort. “I took a tumble from one of the trees. Although I’m sore, I doubt anything is damaged that cannot be fixed by a little time off my feet.”
“I’m afraid to ask the height that tumble was from, but you’re too stubborn to answer.”
“Yes, but think about it,” she challenged. “If our positions were switched, would you tell me? You cannot claim you would, because we’ve already been through this. I had to find out from General Uttae that your ribs were smashed to pieces.”
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil Page 58