by Box Set
Dobber chose a boat as far away from Otec as possible. It was probably better that way. Otec still couldn’t look at him without thinking about how he’d abandoned his family.
From his position at the rudder, Halfed, the Darben man in Otec’s boat, pointed to the dark smudge of clouds in the distance. “If they come this way, we’ll have to beach the boats—they’re not meant to handle a storm.”
“Where?” Otec asked. They had been skimming past the abrupt cliffs all day, zigzagging back and forth to tack into the wind.
The man squinted at the cliff’s base and didn’t respond. But he kept dividing his attention between the clouds and the base of the cliffs.
“How long before we see the clan lands?” Destin asked again.
Halfed looked at the cliffs, then the sails. “Tomorrow, maybe. I’ve never gone this far.”
Matka cut up the fish she’d managed to catch and handed it to the six men in their small fishing vessel. The rolling of the ocean seemed to have no effect on her. She pushed some fish into Otec’s hands—it was raw as they had no way to cook it. “You should eat,” she told him. “You’re going to need your strength.”
Wishing for something hot to ease the bone-deep cold of his hands, he grimaced and forced some of the fish down his throat. He watched her make her way to the back of the boat. He stood to follow her, carefully easing around the sleeping men, who had wedged up against the gunwales to get out of the wind. He made his way to Matka’s side and washed his hands in the freezing water, then splashed his face, the salt stinging his eyes. “I swear, someday I’ll find a way to make Idara pay for what they’ve done to you, to me, to my family,” he said.
She hacked off a piece of the fish head, forced a hook through it, and tossed it overboard. “You will pay the highest price for your hatred.” She chuckled bitterly. “I should know.”
He looked at her, really looked at her. Her hair had grown some in the month since he’d known her, but it still looked like a boy’s hair. And all Otec really knew was that she’d risked her life to save his, to save his clan, his family. “Who are you?”
A sad smile graced her face. “I am what I said. A highwoman, daughter of a slave.”
Otec shook his head, not understanding. She closed her eyes as if overwhelmed. He stared at the gray ocean meeting the gray sky. Slavery. That was the future in store for his sisters.
Matka pierced a fish’s eye on a hook and tossed it overboard. “When they realized my sister and I had the Sight,” she said so softly he almost couldn’t hear her words over the wind, “we were taken from our mother. Forbidden from speaking the language of our homeland. I only saw my mother once more before she died.”
A tear strayed down Matka’s cheek. She didn’t bother wiping it away as she stabbed another piece of meat with a hook. “I made sure the man who murdered her paid for what he’d done.”
One of the lines went taut. Matka wrapped some ripped cloth over her palms and hauled in the wriggling silver fish, then bashed it on the head with the blunt side of the knife. “That’s how I know about hatred, about how it cankers your soul. Revenge does nothing to ease the pain, only twists you into something you come to hate.”
She sliced through the fish, pulling out its guts and bones. “When I first came to the clan lands, I saw kindness and beauty and love. I didn’t understand it at first—I felt like I was being used for a purpose I couldn’t yet understand. But when I was in the mountains with you, I realized that’s just how the clans are. I never wanted to leave. But I wasn’t sure I could abandon my sister. Even if she and I don’t get along.”
“What made you change your mind?” Otec said softly.
“You,” Matka answered without looking at him. “And Holla.” Her voice broke. “When I realized Jore had lied to me—that I had unwittingly been a part of this war—I knew I couldn’t let you die for it.”
And Otec had cursed her for it. “And your sister?”
Matka finally wiped her eyes. “She’s lost to me now. She’ll think I’m dead. And if she learns different, it will only harm her.”
Otec frowned. “Why?”
Matka laughed bitterly. “My sister doesn’t remember much of the apathy of our father. Or the love of our mother. She remembers the temple of fire and the palace. Incense and idols. And she wants to be high priestess, the master of it all. As high priestess, she would be second only to the king.”
“She can’t see what Idara has done?” Otec thought the girl a fool, but he didn’t want to hurt Matka.
“Idara will spread the religion of the Goddess around the world—Suka thinks it our duty.”
Matka and Otec sat quietly for a time, chewing raw fish. “What did you promise them, Matka?” he said finally. Not wanting to upset her, he didn’t use the word “fairies.”
She rinsed her hands in the ocean. “Our firstborn daughter. Which is why you and I can never be, Otec. Because I would not curse my child with their dark attention. I would not force her into that kind of slavery.”
Matka looked up at him, her eyes moist. “What did you promise her?” Not wanting to answer, he looked away. “Otec?” she prodded. “She wouldn’t have talked to you unless she wanted something.”
He signed. “I promised to save you. In return, she helped me drive back the Raiders until help could arrive.”
Matka grunted. “Save me so that I might live to bear you a daughter.” She stared at the knife. “My story hurts—the telling of it. It’s like cutting out pieces of myself and passing them around.” She sniffed. “But you need to know me, Otec, all of it. So you understand why.”
He thought then of the secret he carried—of Jore’s death. Perhaps it was wrong to keep it from her. “Matka, Jore . . . he—”
“I don’t want to know,” she said firmly. She stabbed into the fish again, then cut and sliced and tore.
Otec watched her, knowing he had lost her before he’d ever had her. And with her gone, he was truly alone. He turned his face into the bitter wind coming off the ocean, his heart a coffin of ice and snow.
Chapter 17
A hand shook Otec’s shoulder. He looked up into Destin’s face. The man nodded once and then went about waking the rest of the clanmen.
Rubbing his eyes, Otec sat up, noticing he was warm on the side of his body where Matka was wedged against him. He automatically scanned for the Argon boys and saw them huddled together for warmth.
He peered into the predawn sky, which was still more black than gray. “What? What is it?”
Halfed looked back at him. “I caught sight of the other ships before sunset.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Otec growled.
The man grunted. “Because none of you would have slept, and you all look as if you’ve been scraped from the bottom of a boat.”
Otec held out his hand for Matka’s telescope. He saw the boats and could make out individuals through the lens.
“We caught up to them,” Destin said.
“Of course we did.” Halfed sniffed. “They don’t have the men of Darben to steer for them.”
Otec’s gaze snagged on lights beyond the boats. “What is that?”
Matka took the telescope from him and peered through. Her mouth hardened. “The Idaran Armada.”
The Argon boys scrambled forward at that, trying to get a glimpse of the ships that were supposedly the size of a small mountain.
That meant they were back at the clan lands. Otec rose to his feet, looking toward the cliffs, which weren’t as high as in Darben. “That’s Reisen.”
Matka swung the telescope toward the shore. “There are two distinct camps.”
“So this is where the army is clashing?” Ivar asked.
She nodded.
The boat continued to gain on the Raiders. “When we get close enough, we’ll hook their boats and you’ll have to jump across,” Halfed said.
Matka looked at the cliffs through her telescope as the clanmen shifted and pulled out their axes and shield
s.
“Make sure you don’t hit any of our people,” Otec said. He met Dobber’s gaze in another of the boats, and the man looked quickly away.
The Idarans noticed them shortly thereafter. They were close enough now, and there was just enough light for Otec to distinguish his people from the Idarans. A Raider in one of the boats stood up. It was Tyleze. “You come near us,” he shouted, “and we’ll start killing them.”
Otec stared at the Raiders in disbelief. He should have realized they would try this, should have planned better. But he’d never imagined men evil enough to kill unarmed women and children.
For the second time, Otec looked into his family members’ eyes. Holla pointed wildly toward the shore. “There are Raiders on the cliffs!” A Raider on the boat jumped on her, but Aldi and Wesson rammed the man in unison. “You have to warn them, Otec. You have to!” Holla shouted.
Otec shook his head. “I have to save you, Holla! I have to save all of you!”
“Otec,” Matka said as she peered through her telescope. “She’s right. There are Idarans scaling the cliffs.”
“What?”
“Hundreds of them.” She handed Otec the telescope so he could see for himself. “The camp is still asleep. If they attack now . . .”
“And the main army attacks from the east . . .” Destin trailed off.
“The effects would be devastating,” Matka finished for him.
Slowly lowering the telescope, Otec gazed at his family. Tyleze held a knife to Holla’s throat. “You decide, clanman. Do they live or die?”
Otec locked gazes with each of his siblings in turn, Storm last of all. She picked something up and gently pulled back the wrapping to reveal the face of a baby.
Otec was an uncle. He still didn’t know if the child was a boy or a girl. “What would you have me do, Storm? You tell me, and I’ll do it.”
The Raiders made no move to stop her from speaking, but they drew their swords and stood over her. “It’s too late for us, Otec. And if you don’t stop them, there won’t be a Shyle for any of you to go back to.”
Her words shattered his frozen heart into a thousand pieces. “Storm . . .”
She gave him a gentle smile. “Sometimes you have to lose a sheep to save the flock,” she said through her tears. The other women in the boat called out similar sentiments, begging the men to go.
From his own boat, Otec heard crying and turned to see tears streaming down Ivar’s ruddy cheeks. Otec’s gaze shifted to his fellow clanmen and came to rest on Destin. “What do we do?”
“Is it not better that the Raiders kill them now,” Destin said, “rather than letting them live on as slaves?”
“No,” Matka answered without looking up from the water speeding past the boat. “For their children will be free.” She met Destin’s gaze. “Besides, could you live with yourself if you were the reason they were murdered?”
He winced and then slowly shook his head. “No.”
“I say we go after them,” Dobber shouted from one of the other boats. Some of the other men roared their agreement. “We might be able to save some.”
“Otec, you must decide now or it will be too late,” Matka said.
“Lose a sheep. Save the herd,” he murmured to himself. Suddenly, he realized he truly was the clan chief. Right now, he had to be a leader. Had to put the fate of entire clans before the fate of a few dozen individuals. Even if that decision tore out his heart and destroyed him.
He glanced up at each of his siblings in turn. “I’m sorry,” he cried, falling to the deck and bruising his knees. “I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough.”
“Be a good clan chief.” Storm said through her sobs. “Make it better than it was.”
“I will,” Otec promised as he gripped the edge of the boat, hanging on as if his life depended on it.
Tyleze eased his knife away from Holla’s throat. “I love you!” she cried. “Never forget!”
Tyleze hauled her to Storm and set her down, then ordered his crew to make for the armada. Otec stared at his sisters until the details of their faces were lost to the distance. Stared at them as they lost their distinct forms, becoming indistinguishable from one another. Stared until he lost them—his family.
Then he turned his back on his sisters, on the women of their village. “We need to figure out a way to alert the army. And we need to take out those Raiders.”
Chapter 18
Destin rested a hand on Otec’s shoulder. “You did the right thing.”
Otec could only nod.
“We can handle the Raiders,” Ake said as he and his brother tugged out their bows.
“They’ll make good target practice,” Arvid agreed.
“I can use fire arrows to signal your clanmen,” Matka said. “They’ll see them and know something is wrong.”
Otec grunted in approval. He turned to face the dozen boats following him. “Aim for the men you can hit. When you run out of arrows, use your slings.”
As the cliffs came closer, he measured wind and distance. He’d never shot anything from a boat, but it couldn’t be much different than a moving horse. He’d just fire at the top of the swell.
When they were within range, Otec cast one last glance in the direction his siblings had disappeared. And then he turned away, pulled back his bow, sighted along the shaft, and released. The other men in the boats did the same, dropping Raiders from the cliffs like spiders. But soon the clanmen ran out of arrows.
Halfed ran the boats aground. Otec used the momentum in his leap, landing in the water with a splash that soaked his heavy boots. He sloshed to shore and snatched up handfuls of rocks. He took out his sling and let stone after stone fly—he was a pretty good shot, as one never ran out of stones in the Shyle.
Matka crouched down to gather driftwood. Then she dumped it into a pile and attacked it with sparks from her flint and striker. The moment she had a flame going, she wrapped her five reserved arrows in shredded bark and tied it off in a messy knot. She pulled a small pouch from her pocket and sprinkled the powder over the bark. “If this is the last time I’ll ever see your flames, Goddess, let them burn bright.”
Matka drew back her bow and sent the arrow up over the rim of the cliff, the flames trailing behind like a multicolored comet. “I’d like to see your clanmen miss that,” she said.
When the clanmen saw the arrows, they’d know someone was down on the beach. They would come to investigate and would find the Raiders trying to sneak up on them.
She sent off five arrows in all, directing them over the cliff to burn where all could see. The Idarans on the cliffs began to panic. Those closer to the top continued climbing up. Those nearer the bottom started back down.
Otec and his men continued to send stones at them until the Raiders at the base of the cliffs began firing arrows back. He hauled Matka behind him and held out his shield. An arrow thudded into it, piercing through. Otec almost ordered the boys to go in the boats and stay out of range, but then he remembered what it felt like to be left behind and kept his mouth shut.
“Nice of them to share,” Destin said with a crazed grin as he began picking off the arrows and firing them back.
Otec surveyed the growing gathering of Raiders at the base of the cliffs and knew he had to charge them and wipe them out before his men were outnumbered. “Axes!” he called out.
The clanmen put away their slings and hauled out their axes. This time he did meet the boys’ gazes. “Stay back,” Otec ordered. “Honor to the Shyle!” he cried as they charged.
Sprinting across the rocky beach, Otec sidestepped a thrust and chopped through a Raider’s block to land the axe in his face. He stepped past the man to meet the next. Matka danced beside him, keeping his left flank secure, while Destin took up his right. Otec blocked a swipe of one sword, stomped on the low-swinging second blade, and head-butted the Idaran, who staggered back. Otec kicked him down and buried his axe in the man’s chest.
A cry came from Otec’s right and
he turned to see Destin staggering back, blood gushing from his leg. Otec took a step to help him, but Matka was there first. Gritting his teeth, Otec gave ground. “Tighten up!” A Raider’s sword slipped through his shield, piercing his arm and making it go numb. His blood made the grip slippery.
Another sword pierced his legs. With a roar, he ducked behind his shield and charged, knocking over three men. Matka and Destin finished them off. Otec kicked one in the temple and chopped at the other two.
A man fell screaming from the cliffs, landing on the Raider who was fighting Otec. Now both Raiders still and broken. Otec glanced up to see Raiders being thrown or shoved off the cliffs. “Retreat!” he cried to his men, having no desire to be crushed.
He ran over the rocky shore, his boots soggy and his arm numb. When he turned back, his clanmen were cheering from the tops of the cliffs. The men of the Shyle charged back in quickly dispatched any remaining Raiders.
When the last of them were taken care of, Otec turned to Matka. “Do you trust me?”
She turned to see the clanmen tossing down long ropes. He grabbed one and made to tie it around her waist so they could haul her up. “Oh, no,” she said, face going ashen. “Not again.”
He took hold of her hand. “Come on. I promise I won’t let you fall.”
Chapter 19
Arms trembling, Otec hauled himself over the cliff and turned to heave Matka up. She staggered a couple steps and then lay face-down on the ground, arms spread as if hugging the rocks.
He watched to make sure their six injured were hauled up safely. He shook out his numb and burning hands and searched the faces around him, his eyes watering at the brisk wind. The Reisen clan chief, Gen, marched up to them, bloody axe in hand. “Where’s Hargar?”
Otec’s jaw tightened at the mention of his father. “I’m Clan Chief Otec, his oldest living son.”
For a moment, Gen seemed incapable of speaking, but then he muttered under his breath, “Cursed Raiders.” He seemed to shake himself as he looked over their ragged band. “Can you fight?”