by Davis Ashura
“But he should be safe here. Stronghold is not his home.”
“And you think that as a Virgin you will be able to offer something our other warriors cannot?”
Jaresh shrugged. “Perhaps not with my blade or my Talents, but none of them are family. I am Rukh’s brother, and as his brother, it is my duty to see him home.”
Nanna stared him in the eyes, and Jaresh made sure to meet his gaze. The tableau held for a few moments before Nanna exhaled softly. “You are firm in your intent?” he asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re certain?”
Jaresh nodded. “Absolutely.”
“I always assumed we’d have this conversation,” Nanna said with a sigh as he rubbed his temples. “And in every imagining, I was never able to dissuade you from this path.”
“Then you shouldn’t try,” Jaresh said.
Nanna stared him in the eyes once again. “No. I suppose not. You are my son, and you are a warrior; one who knows his duty.” He looked away. “Why couldn’t you have lost your temper?” he muttered in disappointment.
Jaresh felt a stirring of his spirit, but he needed to hear the words. “Can I go?”
“Though your mother will want me to tell you ‘no’, I cannot deny you.” Nanna sighed once again. “Yes. You can go.” He held up a finger in warning. “But you will absolutely not take any unnecessary chances in the Wildness. Both my sons will be at risk in this Trial, and the thought of losing either of you terrifies me.”
For the first time since he and Mira had agreed to go their separate ways, Jaresh felt like a ray of sunshine had broken through the gloomy cloud bank surrounding his life.
“Do you have plans for the afternoon?” Bree called out to Mira, who was speaking to Sophy in the front foyer of the House Seat.
The other two women shared a look, and Mira looked like she was going to decline Bree’s invitation. Before she could do so, however, Sophy surprised them both. She smiled at Mira. “Go on. Enjoy yourself. Work is important, but friends should take precedence.”
Bree almost stumbled in disbelief. Snow falling in the hothouse of Ashoka’s summer would have been less surprising than Sophy’s words. Before working with her during the past half-year, Bree had only known Mira’s amma as a distant figure of authority. Sophy was the Hound, the legendary House Shektan counselor known for her strong-willed resolve and dogged determination. She was both feared and respected—and in nearly equal measure—known to go to nearly any lengths for the betterment of her House. Bree admired Mira’s amma, but in getting to know her, she had also discovered a brittle quality to her hardness. Sophy was unbending and unyielding, but not always forgiving.
She gave Bree far greater appreciation for her own amma, a woman equally as proud and strong. But somehow, Amma, always included praise, guidance, and, most importantly, compassion with her criticism. It made all the difference. Amma had a warmth and loving presence that Bree never doubted.
Even more surprising, Bree genuinely liked Amma. A year ago, she wouldn’t have felt that way. In fact, she would have found her mother irritating at best, ignorant and dull at worst. What a fool she had been. Sometimes Bree wished she could go back in time and smack her younger self. Amma was far wiser and patient than she deserved.
Bree set aside her thoughts about Amma and turned her attention to Mira, who had smiled briefly in response to Sophy’s warmth. Otherwise, her aspect remained neutral and her eyes flat. It was an expressionless state Bree had come to see all-too often on her friend’s face. Over the past few months, Mira had become skilled at hiding her emotions. It saddened Bree. Mira had once been so carefree and happy.
“What did you have in mind?” Mira asked after saying her final ‘goodbye’ to her amma.
“Lunch? And I thought we could talk. I hardly get see you anymore.”
“Talk about what?” Mira asked. “And you know how busy we’ve both been lately.”
Bree slid her hand through the crook of Mira’s elbow. “All the more reason for us to have lunch,” she said, guiding her friend toward the sunroom.
Bree’s head shot up, and she almost spilled her bowl of lentils and rice. “Rector said that?” she asked in disbelief. “That if he knew than what he knows now, he wouldn’t have turned Rukh in?”
Mira nodded. “I know. A mule kick would have been less stunning, but it’s what he said,” she replied.
Bree sat back, stunned. Rector’s claim to no longer see the world in such distinct shades of right and wrong was so unlike him. The man had always held such a narrow, merciless view of what constituted proper behavior. If moral judgments were rendered based on Rector’s beliefs, half of Ashoka would probably have been found guilty of some sort of unpardonable sin. What could have changed his mind so drastically? “Is he just trying to get on your good side?” Bree asked.
She reddened with embarrassment when she noticed Mira’s mocking expression.
“Probably not,” Bree muttered, still wondering at Rector’s change of heart.
“Maybe he impaled himself on a Wisdom tree,” Mira suggested.
Bree snorted. “A Wisdom tree?”
Mira grinned. “I just made it up. Sounds good, though, doesn’t it?”
Bree laughed, happy to see her friend smiling—a true smile this time. “I’m glad we had lunch,” she said. “It’s been too long since we’ve been able to laugh.”
“With the murders and everything else going on, there just hasn’t been time,” Mira said.
“It is as those of Kush would say: We live in interesting times,” Bree said. “And to make matters worse, Jaresh plans on going to Stronghold.”
“Why?” Mira asked in surprise.
“To bring Rukh home,” Bree replied. “He believes it’s his duty as Rukh’s brother.”
Mira nodded. “He would have made a fine Kumma,” she said. “It’s odd, but in his own way, he’s almost as traditional in his beliefs as Rector.” She wore a look of bemusement.
Bree shuddered. “No one is as traditional as Rector.”
Mira smiled. “You’d be surprised.”
“Anyway, Amma won’t be happy when she finds out what Jaresh intends.”
“Will Dar’El allow it?”
“Probably.” Bree shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the realization that both of her brothers might soon be in mortal danger in the Wildness. And it might be her fault.
“What is it?" Mira asked.
Bree hesitated. Thus far, only her family knew the truth about Rukh’s night in Dryad Park with Jessira. And although she understood the reasons for why Nanna had asked her to do what she had, and on an intellectual level, she even recognized that she had done nothing wrong—her family certainly told her so enough times—there was still a part that wondered whether she bore any blame for her brother’s exile. Maybe it would help to hear the thoughts of a trusted friend.
Mira listened in silence as Bree explained what she had done. When she finished, Mira’s eyes were filled with warm sympathy. “You did the only thing that could have saved your brother,” she said. “You did nothing wrong.”
“So I’ve been told,” Bree replied. “But Rukh’s gone, maybe forever, and sometimes, I feel like it’s my fault.”
“It’s not,” Mira said, her voice was unyielding as ironwood. “It was the fault of Rector Bryce and Hal’El Wrestiva. If you are looking for someone to blame, those two should be at the top of your list.”
“I do blame them, and they are at the top of my list,” Bree said with a scowl. To this day, she still couldn’t believe that she had once been attracted to Rector Bryce. “But I’m not blameless either.”
“You are what you wish to be,” Mira said. “Personally, I think you did nothing wrong, but I can understand how you feel. When it comes to those we love, we always blame ourselves when something goes wrong, even if we did everything right.”
Bree considered Mira’s advice. It was similar to what her family had said. But for some reason, h
earing it today, from a trusted friend…it made a difference. Bree felt better about the situation, and she smiled gratefully at Mira. “Do you think Rukh will feel the same way?” she asked.
“If he’s half the man that Jaresh says he is, I’m sure he will,” Mira said with an answering smile.
“I hope so. I pray so.” Bree laughed. Suddenly and unexpectedly, she was delirious with relief.
“You offering a prayer?” Mira said with a chuckle. “Wonders never cease.”
Bree reached across the table and squeezed Mira’s hands. “Thank you,” she said, infusing as much warmth and gratitude as she could into her expression and her words. “You are a wise and true friend. I hope you realize that.”
“I don’t know about that,” Mira said, blushing.
“It’s true,” Bree replied. “You’re intelligent and capable, and we all appreciate you.”
Mira’s smile slipped .”Not everyone appreciates me.”
Bree pursed her lips. “Your amma?” she asked in hesitation.
Mira nodded. “She knows exactly just how capable and intelligent I am.”
Bree’s eyes narrowed. What did that mean? Mira was everything a daughter should be: dutiful, humble, courteous, and…
The answer came to her in a flash of insight. Jaresh.
How sad. Mira and Jaresh had suffered so much because of something that shouldn’t be considered a sin anymore. But it also wasn’t a topic that Bree could openly discuss with Mira. Her friend would hate it. “She’s wrong, you know,” Bree said. “You’re a woman of decency and honor. My parents—we all think so.”
Mira stiffened. Her face reddened with shame. “Does everyone know about me and…?”
“Know what?” Bree asked. “There’s nothing to know.”
“Rector would disagree.”
Bree snorted in derision. “Are you really going to tell me that Rector Bryce’s good opinion of you matters in even the least bit?”
Mira smiled wanly. “Point taken.”
Bree leaned back in her chair. “Besides, if you haven’t noticed, the ruling ‘El of House Shektan has an unusual family. I have a Sentya brother, and my Annayya—my older brother—had the poor taste to go off and cavort with a beautiful ghrina.” Bree grinned. “Whatever small issue you may have pales in comparison.”
Mira grimaced. “She found out because I was indiscreet in my admiration. Ever since then, it’s been difficult to please her.”
“Then stop trying,” Bree said. “Maybe you should just please yourself. Maybe it’s time to stop worrying so much about everyone else’s concerns and simply go about forgiving yourself for whatever it is that you think you’ve done wrong.”
“Like you should with your supposed role in Rukh’s problems?”
Bree tilted her head in acknowledgment. “Once again, you demonstrate your inestimable wisdom,” she said before cocking her head in thought. “Was it because you were switched with the branch of a Wisdom tree when you were a child?”
Mira laughed.
The road home is longest when our anticipation exceeds the distance left to travel.
~Sooths and Small Sayings by Tramed Billow, AF 1387
Later in the afternoon, the icy rain finally let off. The sun peeked out as the heavy clouds broke apart and dispersed, but the weather remained cold. The Shadowcats picked up the pace, and Rukh heeled his mount, urging the packhorse to keep up with them. When they reached the banks of the River Fled, they followed its course north, and from there, they came upon the legendary Croft. Or at least that’s how Rukh thought of it given the reverent tone Jessira used whenever she talked about the place. They cut across a small corner of it, but from what Rukh could see, what the Croft lacked in beauty—especially compared to the glorious verdant farms surrounding Ashoka—it made up for in size. It was huge. Most of it was sculpted into small square fields that were dead and brown in the winter, separated from one another by narrow macadam lanes. Lonely mesquite and juniper trees stood like silent sentinels in small clusters throughout the land, but closer to the river, taller trees—ash and maple—reached skeletal branches to the sky.
Something had to keep the place hidden from the Queen, and Jessira had once explained that the founders of Stronghold had learned to form something they called a Blind: a semi-permanent Blend. It was continually renewed by the farmers who worked the land.
North of the Croft was a wide road that followed the contours of Teardrop Lake’s beaches and shores. The waters were hidden by a thick copse of aspen, but when the view opened up, Rukh brought his horse to a halt. He stared out in appreciation. The lake was a blue so rich it was almost cobalt. Sunlight twinkled against the gentle waves, and the clouds and sky were reflected in the water’s mirror-like sheen. All around were green-swathed hills and towering mountains with their gray shoulders covered in snow and ice. Fisherman stood in small bobbing boats, casting their nets out into the water.
Rukh got his horse moving again and noticed Jessira up ahead, leading her mare and walking alongside her cousin, talking excitedly and laughing. The lines of worry on her face—so long prevalent—were gone, replaced by joy. It was good to see.
Night had long since fallen by the time they finally reached Mount Fort. East Gate—one of the two entrances into Stronghold—was almost invisible; a dark, rough-hewn slit twenty feet wide but easily missed against the dark bulk of the looming mountain. Rukh examined the mountainside, but he couldn’t see any of the squat signal towers Jessira had once told him about. There were supposed to be twenty of them, spaced every three miles, and built so they blended in with the surrounding stone of Mount Fort.
Rukh dismounted and hobbled forward, following the Shadowcats into the mountain’s depths. A guardhouse loomed above the entrance with murder holes on all sides. From them came occasional flashes of light from red-hooded firefly lanterns. Rukh glanced up and noticed a large stone gate framed in black ironwood recessed in the ceiling. It looked like it could be dropped down in an instant and immediately seal the opening. Stronghold’s entrance appeared well fortified.
Nevertheless, Rukh wondered at the proficiency of the guards manning East Gate. While they likely knew of the Shadowcats’ presence, why hadn’t they challenged a large band of warriors moving into the heart of their home? Drape had sent one of his scouts up ahead to let the guards know of the Shadowcats’ imminent arrival, but Rukh still thought it was sloppiness bordering on incompetence to simply accept the word of one warrior and let the scouts pass without first questioning them.
From there, they travelled into a long, smooth-walled tunnel—fifteen feet tall and wide—and dimly lit with red-lensed firefly lanterns hanging from the ceiling. According to Jessira, this was Hold Passage East. About every fifty yards, a thick gate, similar to the one found at the entrance, hung from the ceiling, ready to slam down at a moment’s need. Near every one of them was a small guardhouse, and stationed within were the men and women tasked with protecting Stronghold. So where were they? No one else was about in the tunnel. The footsteps of their party echoed in the emptiness. Once again, Rukh wished at least one of the guards would come out to challenge their presence. He shook his head in disappointment.
As if on cue, a Shadowcat, who had been sent racing off deeper into the city, returned just then. With him came twenty warriors, armed, armored, and with grim faces full of ill intent. Their commander talked briefly with Drape before the two of them approached Rukh.
Rukh’s impression of the government and warriors here went up slightly. It looked like they wouldn’t give him free rein into their city without first asking him some questions.
“This is Captain Tamp Wind,” Drape said. “You’ll be accompanying him from here on.”
Rukh looked the man over. The captain appeared to be in his late twenties, was of average build, and had the reddest hair Rukh had ever seen.
“Is he a prisoner?” Jessira asked, moving to stand next to Rukh and looking ready to argue the point.
“We
only have a few questions for him,” Captain Wind said. “He’s a Pureblood, and we need to know why he’s here.”
“He’s here because of me,” Jessira replied. “You have no reason to hold him.”
“Remember your place, scout,” Wind snapped. He closed the distance until he was nose-to-nose with her. “You’ve been out in the field for months, and perhaps you forgot military discipline; but you better remember it right quick.”
“It’s all right,” Rukh said to Jessira. The last thing he wanted was for her to get in trouble on his account. “They’re only doing their duty. Go on and see your family.” He eyed the still-annoyed looking captain. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll debrief you in the morning,” Captain Wind said to Jessira. “Your family has already been notified of your arrival. They’re waiting for you. Go with the Shadowcats.” The captain’s jaw firmed as Jessira looked like she still wanted to argue the point. “This isn’t a request, scout. You’re dismissed. Move out.”
“What about my horse?” Jessira asked.
“I’ll see to it,” the captain said.
“Yes, sir,” Jessira said, her face a mask of hidden emotion as she came to attention and saluted. She gathered her belongings and glanced back at Rukh, giving him an inscrutable look before walking away.
“You’ll come with us,” the captain said. “And you need to hand over your weapons.”
Rukh had been expecting the request, but it still filled him with trepidation. His weapons were his last link to Ashoka.
“We’ll make sure you get it all back,” Wind added upon seeing Rukh’s reluctance.
Rukh nodded and handed over his sword and knives to a waiting warrior. He kept the two throwing blades in his boots, though. No one had checked for them, and unless asked for, he saw no reason to give up the knives.
He was about to follow the captain, but Wind motioned one of his warriors over. “Search him,” he said. It was a wise precaution, and Rukh’s respect for the man rose a notch.