“I enjoy doing this. Thank you for inviting me.”
“You have learned so much, Oh’Dar. You already know the plants your mother and Nadiwani use and how to create their preparations and tinctures. You have been learning our ways for almost as long, and I suspect that with the combination, you know more than any one of us,” she joked.
“It is a shame that Healers cannot be male. But maybe I could be a Helper, at least? I do not know.”
The two walked on in silence the rest of the way. The Brothers’ territory met the People’s along the far lower border, then stretched for vast distances in the other directions. The People had placed watchers high in the trees and at different elevations since the threat of the White Men, as they called themselves, had surfaced years ago. However, the Brothers had no such outposts. They were not particularly in need of them because the Waschini knew of their existence.
But the Waschini did not know of the existence of the Sasquatch—either the legendary hulking giants or the offshoot hybrid population called the People.
Oh’Dar had never seen any Sasquatch other than the People. In fact, he had no idea that any other Sasquatch existed. Not being one of the select circle who carried the dark secrets of the past, he did not know the stories about how, out of desperation to avoid extinction, the Sarnonn Nu’numics had mated with the Brothers, producing the modified race of the People. The People were smaller than the Nu’numics but bigger and stronger than the Brothers, and they did not have the heavy coats of hair that the Nu’numics had. There were other physical differences, and for the most part, the People evidenced the best of both bloodlines. Though there had never been any voluntary matings between the Brothers and the People, each could regard the other as attractive.
However, the People were still different enough that the Waschini would not mistake them for the Brothers. And the Waschini had proven they sought to destroy that which they did not understand.
Back in his quarters, Khon’Tor was still lost in thought about his need to produce an offspring as heir to his leadership, when he was disturbed by a clack on the stone door of his living quarters. When he pulled the huge door open, there stood Akule. Khon’Tor let out a big sigh when he saw the watcher; Akule always seemed to bring him bad news. But Akule knew critical information about the night Khon’Tor had attacked Adia, and the Leader had either to stay in Akule’s good graces or kill him. Since Khon’Tor had not been able to make up his mind all these years, Akule was once more standing before him, interrupting his personal time.
“Adoeete, one of the outpost watchers has reported two Waschini riding through on horseback, near the Brothers’ territory,” he reported.
Khon’Tor told Akule that they would go together to notify Acaraho. The High Protector had guards and some watchers working in the field in preparation for the female’s spring planting. He knew there were none near where the outpost had spotted the Waschini, but he was not sure if there were others assigned duties in the outer regions.
They found Acaraho still sitting with Adia in the Great Chamber. Both were getting up to leave when Khon’Tor and the watcher approached.
The balance of power had shifted since Hakani’s death. Acaraho knew that Khon’Tor had attacked and violated Adia, and as a result, had fathered Nootau. Had Adia not stopped Acaraho on the day Hakani intentionally walked off the cliff, Acaraho would have killed Khon’Tor then and there. So, though they had come to a truce of sorts, there was still a great deal of tension between the two giants.
Never one for self-repudiation, Khon’Tor still blamed Adia for his problems. Somehow in his twisted thinking, it was still her fault that he had attacked her. He felt no gratitude to her for not turning him in; he only resented the complication that she created in his life.
So, ignoring Adia, Khon’Tor looked at Acaraho. “One of the watchers spotted two Waschini riding through the edge of our territory. They should be passing through the Brothers’ land shortly.”
Acaraho thought for a moment. “I do not see a threat to us if they did not see our watcher. Akule?” Acaraho looked at him for confirmation.
Akule replied, “Kajika said there was no way anyone saw him. He observed them at a reasonable distance and was concealed in the trees.”
Khon’Tor relaxed. If Acaraho was not concerned, then Khon’Tor was not either. Despite the tension between them, he still respected the High Protector’s judgment and capabilities.
“Very well then, thank you, Commander,” and with that, Khon’Tor turned and left, never acknowledging Adia’s presence.
Acaraho and Adia looked at each other the moment Khon’Tor’s back was to them.
“Oh’Dar,” they signed to each other simultaneously.
Chapter 2
Honovi and Oh’Dar busied themselves with planting row after row of Corn Flower, Chamomile, Eucalyptus, and Fennel. As they worked, Honovi waited for an opening to broach the subject of Oh’Dar’s pensive moods.
“I truly appreciate your help today,” she started. “We always look forward to your visits; you are a blessing to us all.”
Oh’Dar glanced over at her and smiled, crinkling up his eyes. Honovi was relieved to see the smile, not always being able to understand this sometimes sullen young man before her. Where was the smiling, giggling, arm-flapping little boy she had helped raise?
“I do not mean to intrude, but you seem bothered by something. Would you like to talk about it? Is it anything I can help you with? Both Is’Taqa and I have noticed you are not yourself lately, and we want to make sure you are alright,” she continued.
“I am fine. Sometimes I do not know where I fit in; that is all,” he answered.
Honovi looked at Oh’Dar with concern in her eyes.
Such a heavy burden for such young shoulders to bear, she thought to herself.
She knew that both Adia and Nadiwani struggled over this exact possibility. They knew that, however much they taught him about living as one of the People, he would always be different.
They hoped his spending time with the Brothers would give him another family with whom he might identify a little closer since their physical differences were not so great. Had it not been for his startling blue eyes, with the summer darkening of his skin he could pass as one of them.
Honovi secretly expected that in a few years, when he came of pairing age, he would select a mate from the Brothers. There really was no other choice. She could see that he would be attractive, and with all the skills the People and the Brothers were teaching him, he would be a desirable mate—despite being Waschini.
Suddenly, as Honovi and Oh’Dar were speaking, the sound of hooves pounding the ground broke the air. They knew it could be that some of the Brothers were coming their way, but the cadence signaled people in a great hurry, and that meant either something grievous had happened or—Waschini.
Not taking chances, both Honovi and Oh’Dar headed for the protective cover of the nearby brush. It would be risky for a female to be caught isolated, and the Waschini must never learn about Oh’Dar. Ducking undercover just in time, they watched silently as two men on horseback raced by on the hillside beyond. The Waschini always seemed to be in a hurry, but in this case, the rapid sound of their approach was what saved the two from discovery. Had the riders been casually sauntering by, they would no doubt inadvertently have taken Honovi and Oh’Dar by surprise.
“They’re gone. I will go and get the basket we left back in the field,” offered Oh’Dar.
“We are lucky they did not notice it. We should hurry. There might be others following; let’s get back to the village,” urged Honovi.
Is’Taqa was talking with Chief Ogima when he noticed their early return. He saw their concern and hurried body language and came over to help, taking Honovi’s basket from her.
“What happened? You both look upset,” he asked.
“Please, let’s just go to our shelter,” replied Honovi, shaken.
Realizing they wanted to have a private con
versation, Oh’Dar went to find Acise and Snana.
Feeling safer secluded in their living area, Honovi told Is’Taqa what had happened.
He tried not to let on how concerned he was about the close encounter. Had they come across his mate and the young man, he was frightened by what the outcome might have been.
“We have heard the stories of the Waschini. I do not believe they are all evil—we know for a fact that Oh’Dar has a naturally good heart and gentle disposition—but other than him, there are only stories of their dark deeds. No good ones.” Is’Taqa was not going to take any chances—not with his own family, or anyone else’s for that matter.
Honovi looked across at him. “I can see by the look on your face that you are more worried than you are letting on. I think Oh'Dar should return home until this has passed.” Hoping Oh’Dar had not caught the furtive glances exchanged between them, she thought it best that the young man should return to the protection and sanctuary of Kthama.
“You are right, I am. I did not ever tell you, but not long after Adia rescued Oh’Dar, some Waschini entered the village and asked if there was a White infant here; if we had found one and were taking care of it. Not wanting a problem, Chief Ogima let them look through the village. Of course, the Chief could not expose the People, and Oh’Dar was at Kthama by then. Only Chief Ogima, my sister, and I knew about Oh’Dar at that point. There was no time to contact Adia and fetch him in secret, and if we had, the Waschini might well have accused us of kidnapping. There was also no way to ask where they had come from; at that point, we knew of no White settlements and were only able to discover they had traveled very far. It was a long time ago, but I remember it as if it were yesterday.”
That evening, around the nightly fire, Is’Taqa stole a look at Honovi and raised his eyebrows in a question. Honovi nodded oh-so-slightly in agreement. They had been bonded long enough that they often understood each other without the need for words or Handspeak.
Is’Taqa spoke. “Oh’Dar, we need to return you to the People tomorrow. I want to talk to Acaraho about a few things anyway. We will head out at first light.”
Oh’Dar frowned in disappointment. He was not ready to return. Though he could have objected if he’d had a valid reason, he knew better than to argue with his elders—whether one of the Brothers or one of the People. They did not tolerate disrespect from offspring, not even if they were already young adults. So he let it go, deciding to suggest another visit soon. He had already spent several weeks with them and was grateful for each one.
“Yes, Adik’Tar Is’Taqa,” he answered, using the honorific for respect. “I will be ready.”
The next morning, Is’Taqa and Oh’Dar set out very early to make their way back to Kthama. Learning from what direction the two Waschini riders had come, Is’Taqa made sure to take a circuitous route in case others were following. He wanted to make sure he delivered Oh’Dar safely into the People’s hands.
Traveling with Oh’Dar is far easier than with Acaraho, Is’Taqa thought. Even when Acaraho shortens his strides and pace, it is still hard work to keep up with him. Of course, the benefit is that he clears the path easily enough, whereas we have to work hard to do it.
The People and the Brothers did not travel often enough between each others’ settlements to create an established path, even when they took the familiar route. And now, with the Waschini threat, it would be very unwise to have a visible trail leading from the Brothers’ village to anywhere near Kthama.
They made it by midday, and after exchanging greetings, Is’Taqa asked for Adia or Acaraho. Awan, the First Guard, was on duty at the time and went to find Adia, returning shortly with her in tow. When she saw them waiting for her, she hurried with relief across the stone floor of the Great Chamber.
The last thing any of them needed was for the Waschini to come across one of their own among the Brothers.
“Hello, Is’Taqa. Thank you for bringing Oh’Dar safely home,” she said, placing an arm around her son’s shoulders. “I am afraid that Acaraho left earlier to fetch him. He is probably already on his way back by now. Your people would have told him when he arrived that you had already left.”
Oh’Dar thought it odd that his father would come to get him when both Adia and Acaraho had known he would be staying longer. He had thought the same when Is’Taqa decided the night before that they would travel to Kthama in the morning. Both the People and the Brothers had tried to keep the horror stories about the Waschini from Oh’Dar since he was technically one of them. But now the young man realized that there might have been more to Honovi’s reaction than her fear of the riders themselves.
Acaraho had indeed already arrived at the Brothers’ village and found out from Honovi that Is’Taqa had left earlier with Oh’Dar. He asked her what she had seen of the two riders, and she did not have much to report other than whereabouts on the upper trail she had seen them, and in what direction they were going. Still, he asked her to tell him every detail she could, regardless of how inconsequential she thought it might be.
Acaraho then thanked her and set out to find the trail she said the Waschini had traveled.
He had no trouble finding the path. He could still see the hoof prints faintly in the soil. Waschini were the only ones whose horses left behind such a distinctive curved pattern. Realizing that Is’Taqa and Oh’Dar must be safely back at Kthama by now, Acaraho kept his eyes on the indentations and followed them along.
The more these incidents occurred, the more Acaraho wished the Brothers had watchers posted as he did. He knew it was not feasible. The Brothers’ population was nothing compared to that of the People’s, and they did not have men to spare for such positions. He made a mental note to ask for Chief Ogima’s permission to place some of his watchers on their territory for their mutual benefit.
The Waschini had ridden with purpose; they clearly had a destination in mind, and Acaraho wanted very much to know what it was. He tracked the horses for some time, giving up only when the prints ended at a large open field. Remaining hidden among the trees was one thing, but crossing that expansive an area in broad daylight was not wise.
He abandoned the trail and followed his way back. Every fifty paces or so, he selected a four-year-old sapling and broke it at about waist height to mark the path for later. The unnatural twist and position of the break would be obvious to any of the People, but not to the Waschini.
The High Protector made it back to Kthama before twilight. Adia, Nadiwani, Oh’Dar, and Nootau were sitting together in the community eating area when he arrived.
Spring was an exhausting time, and most of the People took advantage of the community meals. The task of feeding a large group was still preferable to fixing individual meals in their living areas. The room was abuzz with talk about the work of the day and gratitude for the rich, dark soil, the sweet, humid scent of the spring blossoms hanging in the air, the lilting birdsong serenading from the trees. Etera was reawakening in the Great Mother’s promise of continual renewal.
Acaraho sat down, straddling the rock bench to sit next to Nootau. Clearly distracted by his thoughts, Acaraho’s brows knitted together tensely. He was sorry he had missed Is’Taqa; he would have liked to broach the possibility of placing watchers along the route the Waschini had traveled.
Looking across at Oh’Dar sandwiched between the two females, he was struck anew with just how frail the young man was in comparison. He had his concerns about Oh’Dar’s future among the People, but usually, he put them out of his mind and committed again to doing the best he could in raising the boy. Considering the stories of the Waschini, perhaps Oh’Dar was safer there among all these powerful peaceful giants than he would be among the heartless White Wasters, even though they were of his own kind.
Nadiwani caught the several hurried glances between Adia and Acaraho. When they had finished eating, she rose up and said, “Come on, Oh’Dar and Nootau, let’s go straighten up the mess I left earlier. I could use your help.”
Adia and Acaraho both smiled and nodded a word of thanks to her for providing them some time alone. Nadiwani put one hand on a shoulder of each offspring and escorted them away with her.
Acaraho rubbed his hand over his mouth as he often did when thinking. He could feel Adia impatiently staring a hole in him as she waited for him to talk to her.
“I found the path the riders traveled. I followed it for some distance but abandoned the trail when it crossed an open field. I may send some watchers after dark,” he said.
“What did you find out that is bothering you, Acaraho, despite the obvious?”
“I asked Honovi to tell me everything she could about the riders, even though she only caught a glimpse. From what she said, their horses were only partially laden. It tells me that if wherever they were going was a fair distance by horseback, there are places close enough for them to replenish their supplies as they travel, or where they were going is close and was their end goal. Either way, it means that there are others in the area only some distance past where Honovi saw them,” he explained finally.
Adia sighed, glad that Acaraho had finally said what was bothering him. She now understood his disquiet. Whether there was a temporary encampment or a permanent establishment, it meant that others would possibly be following their route. The riders had ridden with intent toward their destination, one they knew would be there waiting for them. The word was that it was in this way that they branched across the land; by establishing stopping-off points and from there extending their ingress by another length.
The People were not naturally aggressive. Their intent was to live in peace with all the Great Spirit’s creations. But the Waschini were aggressive, and Acaraho would have to let both Khon’Tor and the other High Council members know of this encroachment.
Oh'Dar's Quest Page 2