by Kate L. Mary
“We will hunt the animals.”
Some of the laughter melted from his expression, and his eyebrows moved. “You will hunt?”
“My husband taught me to hunt before he died.”
The Head paused at this bit of information, but only for a beat before asking, “He died when the village was attacked?”
“No,” I said. “He died before that. He went to Sovereign City and was caught trying to kill a man. He was beheaded.”
The pleasure sparkling in the Head’s eyes faded, and was replaced by an expression I didn’t quite understand. It almost looked reverent. “We have very few people working in the city because it is so far from us, but even we heard about this. It was a very brave thing your husband did, going to kill the man who dared touch his property. When we learned of his death at the hands of the Sovereign, we honored him.”
I thought of Bodhi and how he would have reacted to this man referring to me as property. It could not have been further from the truth. My husband had taught me to shoot, and he had done it to ensure that I would be able to take care of myself. Unlike the man in front of me, Bodhi had respected me. Valued me.
I said none of this, though. Not only would it be impossible for Cruz to understand, but I also knew it would offend him, and we needed his help. Yes, we could take care of ourselves, but first we needed someone to teach us how to do it.
“He was a very good husband,” I said, bowing my head.
“We also heard of the Winta woman who caused her village to be burned and her people to be slaughtered.” I lifted my gaze from the ground when Cruz leaned forward, and his light brown eyes narrowed on me. “This was you?”
“She defended me,” Mira bit out.
The Head’s eyes snapped her way. “In my village, you do not speak unless spoken to.”
“I stabbed a man in Sovereign City, and because of it, the Fortis were dispatched to destroy my people,” I said, drawing Cruz’s eyes back to me.
He was silent for a moment, staring at me, and my scalp tingled under his intense gaze. His eyes were pale brown, too pale for someone with such dark skin, and it made him look angry even when he was not.
“What is the information you seek?” he finally said, sitting back.
“We wish to know what is happening in Sovereign City. We still had people inside the walls when our village was burned, and we want to know if they are dead or being held.”
“They are being held in the quarters the Fortis built,” Cruz said. “We had only one person escape the city before the Outliers were taken prisoner, and since then none have returned.”
“It is what we thought,” I told him.
“Is that all?” When I nodded, Cruz mimicked the gesture. “Very well. You are undoubtedly strong, Indra of the Winta tribe, but you are still just a woman, and without men, you and your people will not survive long in the wilds. It is for this reason I have decided to invite you to join our tribe.”
It was a response I had not expected, and one I found myself totally unprepared to respond to. I looked to my right, at Xandra and Emori, and then to my left where Mira and Anja sat. Not because I thought they would be any more open to the suggestion than I was, but because I was unsure how to respond without insulting the Head, and I wanted to buy myself some time. I needed his vegetables, but I did not need him or any of the other men in this tribe.
“That is a very gracious offer,” I finally said.
Cruz stood like he thought the matter was settled. “We can unite the two tribes with marriage. I have four wives already, but I am willing to take you as my fifth, Indra. An offer you will be unlikely to find anywhere else. It is not often that a man is willing to take on a woman who does not know her role, but I am confident in my ability to help you see your place.”
He stared down as if waiting for me to stand, but I did not move other than to curl my hands into fists. The idea that this man thought I should be grateful for such an offer was enough to make me want to charge out of the village and never look back, but I was no fool. Leaving now would mean turning my back on potential help, and I had too many people depending on me to do that.
“You misunderstand me.” I bowed my head in hopes that it would ease my next words, and that it would hide the anger surging through me. “I am grateful for the offer, but we are very happy where we are. We have created a new home for ourselves, and we are doing quite well.”
“But for how long?” Cruz once again lowered himself into the chair. “How will you defend yourselves if the Fortis attack again? Who will look after you?”
“We have done very well on our own so far,” I said. “If you will help us learn to grow food, we will do even better.”
Without lifting my head, I ventured a look up. He was frowning, and behind him, the other men were standing in groups, talking quietly. I had known before coming here that the Trelite men took multiple wives, and as I watched the men talk amongst themselves, I could not help wondering if they were already discussing who would take the other four women as wives. The thought made my stomach twist, and I clenched my hands tighter, digging my nails into my palms.
Cruz did not speak for a few beats, and the longer the silence stretched on, the more I began to doubt our decision to come here. These men would not attack or kill us, but I would not put it past them to try to detain us for what they believed was our own good. Women were little more than cattle to them, and it was possible they might actually view keeping us here as their duty.
Finally, Cruz exhaled. “You are not Trelite, so I cannot force you to join us, even if I know it is the best thing for you. I do know it will not be long before you realize how helpless you really are without your men. When that time comes, know we are here.” He got to his feet. “In the meantime, we will help you. I will not teach you how to grow crops since it would be wasted effort on a woman, but we will be happy to trade vegetables with you.”
The speech was so insulting that if we did not need this man’s food, I would spit in his face and leave. As a member of the Winta tribe, I had always pictured the Trelite as more like myself, but no man in my own tribe had ever treated me like this. Even after Bodhi died and the Head spoke with my mother about my hunting, he had done it out of concern, not because he thought I was too stupid to make it back to the village without getting lost. It made me wish we had not come here at all.
Since the deal was already made, I stood and gave the Head a smile that I hoped looked grateful instead angry. “Thank you for your help.”
He dipped his head once before saying, “Let us know when you are ready to join us.” Cruz turned away then, waving to Zaire when he did. “See that these women are provided for.”
“I did not think he was going to help,” Emori said after we had gotten a good distance from Zaire and the other men who had escorted us from the village.
“He only agreed because he thinks we will die otherwise.” I uncurled my fingers and flexed them to relieve the tension. “They were insulting.”
“I knew it would be so.” Xandra shook her head as she shifted the basket of vegetables on her hip. “Imagine you marrying that man. It is absurd.”
“It makes me think we should go to the other villages.” Mira clutched her own basket tight against her breast as she looked the rest of us over. “They could help us fight the Fortis.”
“What does that have to do with the Trelite helping us?” Anja asked, and I could tell she was as dumbfounded by the comment as I was.
In my eyes, the two things had nothing to do with one another. The Trelite and Winta had always cooperated, but the Mountari and Huni were as good as strangers to us.
“If we can convince the Trelite to work with a group of women,” Mira said, “perhaps the other tribes will be more willing to work with us than we thought. Together, we would outnumber the Fortis.”
“It would give us the numbers,” Xandra agreed. “The Outliers outnumber not just the Fortis, but the Fortis and Sovereign combined. Even with the
Winta gone.”
They had a point, and it was not the first time Mira had brought this up to me, but I still did not think we could make it happen. The Outlier tribes had not worked together in centuries, and before our recent peace, we had been at war for decades, fighting amongst ourselves while we slaved away for the Sovereign. We were the same, but also different; our trip to the Trelite village had confirmed that. Our customs would never mix. The Trelite would not accept women as fighters, and the Head of the Huni was a woman. The Mountari, too, did not believe women were their equals, and women were all we had left.
“No,” I said. “It cannot work. A group of Winta women cannot bring the Outliers together, not when the gap between them is so big.”
No one argued with me, but as we continued our trek through the forest, I could tell a few of the others were less certain than I was. Mira, especially. Maybe she was right. I did not know for sure. I just knew the blood on my hands had barely dried, and I could not risk what remained of my people right now.
14
We thrived in the forest. I had never doubted we could do it, but the doubts the other women carried with them had been obvious, at times making it difficult for me to cling to my optimism. But with each passing week, things got better for us. My tribe became more confident, better hunters, and stronger than even I had imagined we could be, and with the added help of the vegetables from the Trelite, we were more than prepared for the cold when fall once again turned into winter. Outside, snow fell on the wilds, but we were tucked away in the caves, safe from both the weather and the Fortis who wanted to do us harm.
A year and a half had passed since Bodhi was killed, and nearly a year since the Fortis had burned our village to the ground. It seemed unreal that so much had changed in such a short amount of time. It had been difficult, but we had adjusted and grown. We had created our own tribe out of the remnants of the Winta with no help from men, and we had done well.
Either unable or unwilling to let go of the scars the Fortis had left behind, we continued to kill the men and women we came across in the woods, and with each passing day, we became more and more competent as both hunters and warriors.
Despite how well things were going for us, living in the caves could be stifling. Noise bounced off the stone walls and echoed much too loudly, making it difficult for me to think at times. In those moments, I found the forest always waiting, always ready to provide me with the much-needed break from the close quarters of the cave. The peacefulness of the wilds as I sat waiting for an animal to cross my path had been one of the few things that could comfort me after Bodhi’s death, and despite how different everything now was, that had not changed. Even more important, when I was out by myself, it almost seemed like Bodhi was with me. Watching down on me, proud not just of what I had accomplished, but of who I had become.
I went out early that morning, while the caves were still silent and the sun was still trying to claw its way over the horizon. Winter was in full force, and the fine blanket of snow covering the forest sparkled in early morning sunlight. Steam rose in front of me with each breath I let out, and I watched it get carried away as I picked my way through the forest.
Suddenly, I was hit with the memory of how steam very similar to this had risen off the hot water in Saffron’s house. How being able to simply turn a knob to gain access to it had awed me so much when I first arrived there, and then later how it had infuriated me. It, like most things inside the walls, had morphed over time, changing from something that had seemed like magic to something that could only be described as an injustice. It had been one example in a long line of things illustrating how much more the Sovereign had.
I carried the memory with me as I searched for a tree and then climbed. My bow was slung over my shoulder, freeing my hands so I could hold onto the icy branches and pull myself up. Halfway to the top, I found a grooved branch and settled in. It was icy and unforgiving against my backside, but the silence was peaceful. I let out a deep breath and watched as steam once again rose, and when it was carried away by a gust of wintry wind, I imagined it took my thoughts of Sovereign City and Saffron with it. Out here I wanted to be able to embrace the tranquility, not dwell on the horrors of that world.
Winter made animals more scarce, so it was no surprise that hours passed with little more than the squawk of a rawlin. But like all the times before, the stillness of the Wilds wrapped around me, making the time welcome.
The sun was high above my head by the time the snap of twigs broke through the quiet. I turned toward the sound, my bow already up and my arrow notched. Holding my breath, I listened, waiting for whatever was headed my way to make another sound and give its location away.
At first nothing happened, and I began to think the animal had retreated. Then, with no warning, the man emerged from the forest, his movements slow, almost hesitant. Whether he sensed my presence or there was another reason for his hesitation, I did not know. Nor did I care.
I shifted my bow and took aim. My fingers twitched and my shoulders ached from the effort of holding the string back, but I found it suddenly impossible to release my arrow. A year had gone by since I had hesitated, but for a reason I could not comprehend, I found myself doing it now. The man’s back was to me, but there was something about him that gave me pause. Something familiar.
Only a moment after stepping into the clearing, he turned my way, and when I saw his face, all the air left my lungs in a whoosh of steam that disappeared in a blink. Asa. I had not seen him in months, not since my last day in Sovereign City, but I had thought about him often. Had even wondered from time to time if I would ever see him again. And now he was here, standing in front of me.
“Asa,” I whispered to myself as I lowered my bow.
He seemed to be alone, and as far as I could tell, he had not come out here to hunt. He had no game, and even though his sword was out, it was not raised. What else could he be doing this deep in the wilds? Was he looking for me? Despite the chill in the air, a flush spread across my cheeks at the thought.
Asa crept further into the clearing, so quietly it impressed me, still unaware of my presence. His eyes never stopped moving, though, never stopped scanning the area as he went. It would not be long before he noticed me, but I kept quiet, watching him from the tree, needing the time to recover from my surprise, as well as sort through the strange mix of feelings swirling through me. Excitement at seeing him, curiosity about why he had come, as well as a tingle that was impossible to name.
Asa stopped moving when he spotted my footprints in the snow. I held my breath as his gaze followed them across the ground to the tree, and then up to where I sat crouched. His eyes met mine and he visibly started, and I half expected him to run. But he stayed where he was. Unmoving, his eyes locked on mine for what felt like years.
“Come down,” he finally said, his words just loud enough for me to hear.
The sound of his voice transported me back in time, back to Sovereign City and Saffron’s house. Only the feelings and memories that came with the sensation were not unpleasant the way I would have expected them to be. Instead, they brought to mind how caring Asa had always been, how he had scooped me into his arms when I needed help, and how he had held my hand when I needed comfort. It woke the part of my heart he had managed to capture more than a year ago, and the feeling took my breath away, making it impossible to speak. I nodded instead, mimicking the gesture I had seen him make dozens of times in the past. Then I threw my bow over my shoulder and twisted so I could climb down.
It only took a few beats, and my back was to Asa when my feet hit the ground. He was as silent as he had always been, but somehow I could tell he had moved closer. When I turned to face him, I found he was near enough to touch.
He was silent as his brown eyes took me in, holding mine for a moment before sweeping over my face. They lingered on my new passage markings—the ones for my mother—before moving lower. Standing in front of him just then, I felt exactly as I had dozens of time
s before, small and oddly overwhelmed by his magnitude. Not because he scared me, but because I had a feeling that if I let him, he would wrap me in his size and keep me safe forever.
He said nothing, instead seemingly content to stare at me, but I found it impossible to stay silent. “What are you doing here?”
“I came looking for you.”
“For me?” Even though I had suspected as much, I found it unbelievable. A year had passed since the last time we saw one another, and yet Asa had been unable to let me go. “Why? What exactly do you want from me, Asa?”
“I came to warn you.”
“I am not your responsibility,” I said gently. “You saved me, and for that I will always be grateful, but that was a long time ago. I am a different person now. I am stronger.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Something flashed in his eyes, wiping away the softness that had been there. “You’ve made quite the mark on the city.”
The expression in his eyes made him look colder, more like the man who had confronted in me in Saffron’s house after learning I was killing Fortis hunters. It reminded me of who was standing in front of me. A man who had helped me, yes, but also a Fortis. I could not forget that. Could not let my guard down simply because he had worked his way into my heart.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped at him.
“Everything has changed since you stabbed Lysander. The Sovereign have become stricter than ever before, and the Outliers who work in the city are slaves. They live in the quarters. Did you know the building was finished?” Asa shook his head, almost angrily. “Well, not finished, but good enough for Outliers.”
I straightened my back, lifted my chin, and held his gaze as I said, “I do not regret the things I have done, so if you came here to make me feel bad, you have wasted your time. I stood up for my people. I saved my friend. Lysander deserved to die and much more. He—”
“He’s alive, Indra.”