Through The Fire: The Alawansi Book One

by Valerie Puissant

  “Yeah, we got it right here.” My vision was blurred, but I assume she produced the bottle.

  “Safi, open your mouth. Grentu, put one drop and one drop only on his tongue.” I opened my mouth. I could not have protested even if I had wanted to. The pounding in my head was agony. “Lay him down and leave us. Thank you for taking care of my apprentice, Grentu. I am eternally grateful to you for this service.”

  I was still in the bed next to Wylan when I woke. I was close enough to breathe in the earthy scent of him. He always smelled a bit like freshly turned soil and new cut hay. It was comforting and familiar. The pounding in my head had reduced itself to a dull ache so I trusted myself to slowly sit up. “Be careful,” his voice was quiet. When my eyes could focus I turned to look at him. His brow was creased with concern. “How are you feeling?”

  My tongue felt heavy as I tried to speak. “How long was I asleep?”

  “Nearly a full day. I just awoke an hour ago myself.” I understood the dryness of my tongue. The pitcher of water still stood on the table near me. I poured a cup for myself and downed it quickly, then poured another one. “You should take that more slowly or it will come back up.” I was too thirsty to listen and I downed a third cup. As I finished the final swallow, my stomach began to roil. I did not seek the bucket, but it was a close run thing.

  “Safara, I am so sorry I put you in a position of having to go out in your condition. I was a fool to send Grentu out unaccompanied.” I knew then that Grentu would never be left in this cruel city. Invisibility had its own brand of cruelty, but at least she never had to fear for her safety.

  His lips looked as dry as mine felt. I could see dark circles of exhaustion under his eyes. It had not even occurred to me to be angry with him. I poured a cup of water and handed it to him. He took it and drank gratefully. “Thank you. I think we should try to have something to eat. I will ask Grentu to fetch us a light meal.” He lifted the covers and grabbed his stick with his right hand and stood. Some time after I had passed out, he had managed to dress himself in a robe again and he looked almost like himself. When he tried a step he stumbled, nearly falling, but righted himself. “After I put you to the trouble, it seems my arm is just too weak to hold my weight.”

  “If I had been able to think straight, I could have told you that would happen. You just need to give it time to heal. No potion is a substitute for time.” He transferred his stick into his left hand and limped heavily as he walked to the door. Grentu was evidently stationed right outside because he spoke as soon as he had opened it just a crack.

  When he had finished giving the command, he limped back to one of the two chairs in the room and sat heavily. His face looked pinched and color drained after the minor effort. “Perhaps a sling is a good idea after all.” I got up and found the square of cloth that I had made from my shirt and tied it into a loop to put around his neck.

  Breakfast was a slow affair. Neither of us was up to a quick meal so we chewed each small bite and in slow, deliberate silence. When I finally pushed my plate away, I felt a lot better. There was even more color in Wylan’s cheeks though he still looked tired. For all I knew, I still looked tired too. “We need to go into town. I need to visit a friend there. I was hoping we would be able to see him before the king had his meeting with the Imir, but that was not to be. The meeting has taken place and the king has managed to place the blame for the attack squarely on the shoulders of the Zuunland empire, largely on the strength of these.” He got up from his seat and moved to his bag, pulled out an arrow and set it on the table. Its shaft was still stained reddish brown.

  I frowned, “I do not recognize this style of arrowhead.” Wylan had made me study weapons of all the countries on our continent and none made arrowheads that were so fluted and stylized.

  He nodded, “This is the style of arrowhead favored by some Zuunlanders. I am nearly certain it is also a forgery. My friend can help me and maybe I can appeal to the king in enough time to stop the madness. He must see reason and understand that there are other forces at work here.”

  ***

  Even though I was feeling somewhat better, I still could not bear to take in the sights of the city as we rode through the streets. The bright sunlight was too painful for my light sensitive eyes and the motion of the carriage was unsettling to my constitution. The ride to our destination was mercifully short and the driver stopped in a narrow, dark street, less than an hour from our inn. It took Wylan some time to climb down from the coach and carefully make his way into the small, dark shop in the poorer part of Geronia City. We entered the cramped shop. Armor and weapons hung from the ceiling and the walls. There were swords and knives of every shape and description, some I recognized from my studies and some I did not.

  There were no other customers in the store, and it was several minutes before I noticed the small man who stood behind the counter. His skin was inky dark, like the people from the south country, but his hair was straight and shiny as a silk skullcap. I did my best not to stare in fascination. The man looked up as we approached and his wrinkled old face beamed with a toothless smile so wide it made his eyes disappear. “It is my old friend!” He came out from behind the counter as Wylan and I made our slow progress through the shop. The old man frowned and pulled up two stools and offered one to him and one to me. “But you do not look well old friend. Have you taken a sickness? I have herbs for you! I have the book too! You ask before about plants of Zuunland. I have for you.” He put his hands on a package and beamed proudly.

  “We are not ill old friend. Our caravan was attacked on the way into town. I took an arrow in the arm. That is why we have come to see you. I have a weapon for you to examine.” He produced the arrow and handed this to his friend.

  “This arrow is Zuunland shape arrow, but this is not Zuunland weapon. The metal is wrong.” He went to a pile of arrows, indistinguishable from all the other mountains of arrows he had lined against his wall and pulled one from near the bottom of the stack. I expected the entire pile to fall but it did not. He brought the arrow back over to us. “You see? The metal is different. East will mix the metals to make it strong. This copy is weak. Not fly straight. This why arrow hit your arm and not your heart. You lucky this is not Zuunland arrow.”

  “I would like to buy a dozen true Zuunland Arrows and a few blades please, along with the books and seeds from your home. I am eager to learn their secrets. You will have to give the bundles to my apprentice to carry.”

  He nodded. “I make three packs. Light weight for you, Little Missy.”

  Wylan frowned, “He is just young, but he is a sir.”

  The old man chuckled. “Eyes are old, but not so old! But I will say as you say. Here are bundles for you, sir.” He said it with a little wink as if we shared a private joke. I probably should have been more worried, but who would the old man tell? He was in another country and he certainly did not have the ear of anyone connected with the king. It was rather nice to be recognized for who I truly was. I smiled at him, then picked up the bundles and left the store.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was laundry day. I stripped off my heavy robe the moment I exited the back door of the tower. The robe needed cleaning and I just needed to be comfortable in the summer heat. I was still wearing shirt and trousers, but I had stripped the binding off of my tender breasts after breakfast. I did not fear being discovered. People seldom visited the tower. I had not seen Jabari since the day he dashed off to declare his love for that bakehouse girl. Even Wylan avoided the back of the tower when it was laundry day, afraid I would try to strip him out of his filthy work robe to give it the cleaning and mending it so desperately needed. He was always neat and clean when we left the tower for public appearances, but around the house, he wore a faded robe that was in the saddest, sorriest state of disrepair.

  I put my own robe aside, draping it over the washing line and started the fires underneath the washing kettles. Wylan had filled them for me before he disappeared up the stairs an
d into the workshop. I had scented washing soap and stain treatments at the ready. Most of the laundry was already loaded into large kettles. I could easily have heated the water to boiling with the palm of my hand and gotten started with the hard labor of stirring and scrubbing, but I saw no reason to rush. I had all day. I grabbed my book and flopped down on the grass in the shade to let the warm breeze waft the sounds and scents of late summer to me.

  I took nearly half an hour to bring the wash kettles to a rolling boil. I knew when it was time for me to get up and stir the clothes, but I was enjoying the breeze as it rustled the fabric of my shirt. I rarely felt the sensation of the soft fabric against my bare skin and I was savoring this rare, moment of privacy when I could just be myself. I had nearly dozed off when I heard Wylan’s call. “Safara!” There was alarm in his voice so I jumped to my feet to see him hurrying towards me. His arm had healed from our misadventures in Geronia several months previous, but his quick pace over uneven ground made his limp more pronounced.

  “Wylan? What is it?” I was worried. I had never seen him so upset.

  He grabbed my shoulders and looked me over from head to toe. “Where are you hurt? I saw the blood and rags in the bucket just inside the door. What happened? Should we call for the physician?”

  I was confused momentarily. My brain raced to make sense of his words. Suddenly I realized what he must have seen. “Oh Wylan, no I am not injured. I am perfectly well, see?” I held out my arms and turned in a circle. “I am fine. I was just soaking some personal items to prepare them for the wash.” We did laundry about once a month in the tower and I always timed it so I could do laundry at the end of my cycle. In the year and a half that we had been living together, he had evidently never stopped to think why I chose this particular time of the month to wash the clothes. It was his turn to look confused. I tried to clarify without being indelicate. “Did your mother not keep similar items around when you were growing up?”

  He shook his head distractedly. “My mother died when I was young. I grew up in a monastery.” I winced inwardly. He had told me about that and I had forgotten. “So if you are not injured then…” He stopped and thought for several moments. Suddenly the color drained out of his face and he sank down onto a nearby rock. “Oh, so it is- Oh my word.” He was so flustered I felt sorry for him. “I am afraid I am terribly out of my depth here. I did not realize this all happened so fast! Do you need to speak with someone?” He looked at me as if he was truly seeing me for the first time. “Your chest, it looks different. You have- When did this start?”

  I wanted to laugh, I had never seen him so ruffled. “It started a few years before we even met. I am long past all the talks. You may rest easy.”

  Relief momentarily smoothed his brow and he sighed deeply. Then I watched his face change as he began to digest the true meaning of my words. “Wait, you have been,” he gestured up and down the length of my feminine form, at an obvious loss for words, “for several years? That cannot be! Did you suddenly blossom into womanhood at age eight?”

  “No, Wylan, I will soon be eighteen. Perhaps it is my height that made you assume that I was much younger. When I first met you I was too frightened to contradict you and when I was no longer frightened, the subject just did not come up at the right time. I am not a child. Some would already consider me an old maid.”

  He turned his head and would not meet my eyes. “This is wrong. We have been living a lie.”

  I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his words. Of course we had been living a lie but it was a lie we shared from the start. “Wylan, you have known the truth of my gender since the day you met me. Why is it so horrible now to be shown the proof of what you already knew? I am the same person who sat across the table from you this morning at breakfast.”

  “The person I had breakfast with this morning was a child who does not really exist. I do not know the woman who stands before me now.” His words stung me unexpectedly. No one on earth knew me better than Wylan.

  “How could you be this upset over a matter of a few years difference in my age? Twelve is still a marriageable age in this country. Even if I had been a few years younger, I would still have been a woman.”

  He did not respond to my question. “Do you have any covering? You really should not be out here without your robe on. What if someone were to see you?”

  “You and I can both sense an approaching visitor at least a mile before they arrive. I have not suddenly lost the ability just because my breasts are unbound. I am fully clothed and decent. The weather is fine. I will not cover up just because you find my true form too upsetting to behold. You live with a woman, Wylan, just as you have every day for the last year and a half.”

  He finally turned and looked at me and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again without saying a word. After a few moments, he shook his head, got up and walked away in silence.

  I did not see him again until midday. I stubbornly refused to put on a robe all day. I was hurt and angry and I did not want to give him the satisfaction of hiding again from the truth. I knew I was being stubborn and a bit ridiculous, but I was upset. He had always known who I was. Why was seeing the truth of it so horrible?

  I walked in at our usual meal time, half expecting him to be absent. I still was dressed in the plain white linen shirt and simple black trousers that I had been wearing all day. When I walked in, he had set out a meal for two, leftover mutton from the night before and leftover grains from breakfast.

  He was standing by the fireplace and he watched me as I entered. I did not look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me. Suddenly I felt naked. I wanted to run to my room and get a spare robe to cover myself. I wanted to hunch my shoulders to hide my chest. I did not. I stood with my back straight and my head held high and I turned and faced him. He held my gaze for few seconds and then he looked away. I did not have time to read the expression on his face, but it was almost like pain. I sat down at the table and stared at the excellent meal. I was hungry and I needed to eat, but my stomach churned with anger at his reaction and guilt for my deception. I forced myself to pick up my spoon and put food in my mouth. We ate in uncomfortable silence for the first time ever in our entire acquaintance. We had had debates before, over research findings or the merits of a literary work, but we had never exchanged so much as an unkind word between us. The tension was sudden and unexpected and it was difficult to bear. About halfway through the meal, he reached out and placed a square of thick leather on the table. It was folded in half and when he pulled back the edge I saw a simple wooden dagger lying there on the charred surface of the pelt. We had several daggers like it in the workshop which we used to test enchantments.

  “This is the reason I came to find you earlier today. Your enchantment worked. There is still one fairly serious flaw to iron out, but you have made a fire weapon.”

  I stared at him wide eyed, all upset temporarily forgotten. “Truly? I have? I must test it out and see what it can do!” I picked it up by the handle. It did not burn me, but I could tell it was much too hot for the average person to handle safely.

  He smiled at me sadly. “Yes, we can take it out and test it after we eat. Once you have perfected this enchantment, you will have learned everything that I can teach you. You are powerful and there will be more to learn as your gifts evolve, but you are clever and you can make those discoveries on your own. When I have finished teaching you the basics of enchantment, I will petition the king to have me relocated to another part of the kingdom.”

  All excitement over my achievement fled. “Wait a moment. What?”

  “The king will want to keep you close. You are his most valuable asset and he knows it. He will not mind placing me in one of his residences farther south to aid in defense of those borders. You can go on living here. I know you have come to love it as I do.”

  I stared at him, wide eyed and stunned. I could not stop the tears that stung my eyes. “So that is it? I am to be discarded like spoiled meat simply because I
am a few years older than you imagined?”

  The sadness in his expression puzzled me. “This arrangement was always meant to be temporary. I always knew that. It is impossible to hide beauty like yours forever. It will always shine through eventually. I have always known that when your truth was revealed, I would have to leave. I just thought we would have a year or two more together before I had to depart.” I sat in silence waiting for him to finish so I could protest. “I have kept you hidden away here for a year and a half now. At first you needed me and I told myself this living arrangement was fine because I was mentoring a young girl who needed my guidance. But you are not a little girl. You are a smart, powerful and breathtakingly beautiful woman and my presence here does nothing but hold you back. I thought a mage’s life had to be solitary and lonely, but you have proved me wrong. You have charm, poise and grace that draws people to you. You should have friends and suitors. You should not be stuck in a tower with a glowering, half lame hermit.”

  I just sat there and blinked, trying to digest his words and ignore the fact that he had just called me beautiful. I took in his strong, smooth handsome features. He was a kind and patient mentor and a caring thoughtful friend. Did he truly think himself so unappealing? “Before I came here, I lived in a house with eleven people, in a village where everyone knew my name and I was lonely every single day. Then you brought me here and taught me it was okay to be myself. You have accepted me for who I am, or at least I thought you did. You are right, I have come to love this place, but it is not the building that makes it seem like home. How can you believe that you somehow hold me back? Do you not understand that the warmth and light you see in me is there because you bring it out. I have all the laughter and friendship I need because I have you.”

  He winced as if I had physically struck him. “But we cannot go on like this! People are not going to be fooled by the disguise for much longer. You will never grow to be a man. When they find out, what will they think of us? I am a man, my reputation will hardly be tarnished but you, I cannot even bear the thought of what they will say, how they will treat you.”