by Narro, B. T.
Two Krepps and an Elf stroll into Kyrro…could it be the beginning to a joke? “You hope to convince Welson of what?” Zoke asked, accepting the scroll and tucking it into their bag.
“It’s better if we discuss that in private,” Vithos said. He placed a hand on Nebre’s shoulder. Being a head shorter, he needed to lift his arm awkwardly to reach it. Nebre sunk his head to meet Vithos’ eyes. “You should have no worries about your safety, Nebre. I just don’t wish for certain information about us to get back to Doe and Haemon. Wait here for a moment while I speak to Zoke.”
Nebre nodded subordinately.
Vithos took Zoke aside. “It doesn’t matter if we locate the Slugari first if the Humans are going to reveal their location to Doe and Haemon. There won’t be enough time for us to make a difference. We’ll simply die with them or worse—join them in slavery. Our only chance to stop this is to ensure the Humans defeat Doe and Haemon. If they can’t do it alone, then they can join forces with the Slugari to fight.”
“You expect to persuade the King of Kyrro to prepare for war instead of giving up the Slugari?” Zoke asked.
“If needed. I can be very convincing.” Vithos lowered his head to look from the top of his eyes and it sent a chill through Zoke. “This is our only chance to gain the help of an army. Before, I assumed we could fight alongside the Slugari, but we can’t go to them now unless we know the Humans won’t give up their location.”
“Zeti would be fighting on the opposing side. I understand your thirst for revenge, but how can we assist in starting a war with sister to me as an enemy? I can’t bear the thought of being responsible for her death.”
“There’s only a small risk of that. This is your opportunity to reunite with Zeti, and if that’s not enough, let me tell you what Doe and Haemon plan to do with the Slugari. They’ll invade their territory with hungry Krepps who will chase down and bite into them, ripping off chunks of flesh while they’re still alive. The Slugari who survive the attack will spend the rest of their lives in cages. They’ll be forced to breed. They’ll watch their children grow until they’re big enough to be killed, cooked, and eaten. This will continue until they’re too old to produce offspring, and then they’ll be killed for food, but not before realizing that their children who haven’t already been killed will take their place to continue the cycle.
“This is certain to happen if Doe and Haemon find the Slugari, but there is no certainty Zeti will die if we convince Welson Kimard to fight. It’s our best chance to take out Doe and Haemon, and it’s the only way you’ll be able to speak to Zeti again.”
Zoke jabbed at the dirt with the claws on his feet. It was dry on the surface, cracking open as he prodded. “This feels like the beginning to something I’ll regret.” He was thankful for the doubts, at least. He took it to mean Vithos hadn’t used psyche to persuade him.
“I’ll do everything in my power to prevent bloodshed. If Welson Kimard has sufficient bowmen among his army, we should be able to host a surprise attack to take out Doe and Haemon. With them dead, a war may be avoided completely. As I mentioned before, Krepps have never been able to lead themselves. We may even find that there are better options once we speak to the King of Kyrro.” Vithos made a fist. “War is not certain, and the death of Zeti certainly isn’t either. Going to Kyrro with Nebre is our best option.”
“I have a terrible feeling about this, like someone will surely die, someone other than Doe or Haemon.” Zoke picked up a slab of dirt to crush in his palm. “But you’re right, doing nothing would be worse.”
Nebre approached. “The sun is setting. If you still wish to come, we should prepare for night.”
“We do,” Zoke said, letting the dirt fall from his claw.
“I hope you have food and water with you,” Nebre said. “I didn’t bring enough for three.”
“We have enough,” Vithos answered. “We should walk for another two or three hours, otherwise it will still be dark when we rise.”
At that, Nebre twitched nervously. He still has that same habit, Zoke thought. “Rest will come easier then,” he said, trying to console.
“You lead,” Nebre said. “Without the sun, my sense of direction is lost.”
Vithos pointed south. “It’s this way. Go on ahead. We’ll catch up. There’s just one more thing Zoke and I need to discuss.”
Nebre gave a twitchy nod and went.
“What else?” Zoke asked.
“It’s Nebre,” Vithos answered with a grave tone. “He’s grown far more anxious and untrusting. I don’t believe that he’ll come so willingly. He might try something during the night. We should sleep in shifts, but don’t let him know. I want to see how he behaves when he believes we’re both asleep.”
Zoke spat at the idea. “I know him. He always has avoided confrontation. He scares easily, and I’m very tired.”
“It’s been many years. He may not be the same Krepp you remember. I’ll stay awake as long as I can, but I’m going to wake you when I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. If all goes well this night, we won’t have to do it again.”
Zoke slumped his head and gave it a slow shake. “Another half night of sleep—I’d hoped we were done with that. Wake me when you need to, but he won’t try anything.”
“Let’s hope so,” Vithos muttered.
Chapter 45: Awake
ZOKE
There were trees in every direction but with enough room between for the three of them to walk beside each other. The dirt was mostly bare except for animal tracks and droppings. Rarely, Zoke glimpsed the stub of a tree that had been chopped down. With the castle of Tenred nearby, he wondered why more trees weren’t cut. “Don’t they use wood in Tenred?” He hoped Vithos might know.
“They do, but the castle sits upon a great source of iron. It was lucky for them to settle there. Do you know the story?”
“Of what?” Zoke asked.
Nebre answered for Vithos, “Of Tenred. I read about it in a book.” His eagerness to share was palpable.
“I don’t,” Zoke said. “I’m in the mood for a story.” Anything to get my mind off another pointlessly vigilant night.
“I know only what was told to me,” Vithos said. “Tell me if any of this doesn’t match what you read, Nebre.”
Nebre’s bright yellow eyes faded to the dirt when he realized he wouldn’t get to start. Stories of the Humans were rare, and Nebre seemed to hold more appreciation for them than anyone else Zoke had met.
Vithos cleared his throat. “Tenred was established recently, sometime in the last one hundred years. The Humans who founded it were from Kyrro. They were part of the King’s army there, and they plotted to overthrow his power, but their plan was discovered and many were captured.”
Nebre added, “Some were even council to the King. They were planning to replace the King with a different leader after he was dead, but one of them snitched to reveal the takeover before it could happen.” He spat.
“As the rebels started getting captured, the rest tried to escape,” Vithos continued. “Only ten made it out of Kyrro. They were chased north, running until they couldn’t run any farther. They climbed the hills of southwestern Satjen where only one path could reach them. That’s where they prepared for battle. Five hundred of the King’s men came after them but couldn’t win the battle. The ten men atop the hill were all skilled archers and held off each attack thanks to their position.”
“I read that it was two hundred men who chased them,” Nebre added with a tone like he was ready to argue.
“If Humans are anything like Krepps, then it is likely even two hundred is an exaggeration of the truth,” Zoke said, trying to alleviate the discord he could feel growing between Nebre and Vithos.
“Whatever it was, the King’s men weren’t prepared for such a standoff and retreated back to Kyrro for the appropriate supplies,” Vithos said. “More battles ensued, but the numbers in Tenred grew because more and more from Kyrro kept coming to join them. Although they were
considered traitors at first, eventually there were so many switching sides that the King of Kyrro had no choice but to agree to a treaty.”
“They weren’t traitors,” Nebre tried to correct Vithos in an obvious attempt to defend Tenred’s honor—the honor of the Krepps’ new allies. “The King of Kyrro was not a deserving leader like Doe and Haemon.”
“They didn’t agree with their leader and planned to overthrow him,” Vithos said with a slow, careful shrug. It was the most sinister shrug Zoke had ever seen. “Those sound like the actions of a traitor to me.” Vithos turned to raise an eyebrow at Nebre. “If they aren’t traitors, then I shouldn’t be thought of as one, either.”
Nebre wouldn’t return a look, staring instead at the dirt. An unnerving silence fell over them. Zoke asked a question to disrupt it. “Kyrro and Tenred have been at peace this whole time until now?”
“No other battles since then,” Nebre answered softly.
“I wonder what reason they suddenly have to fight,” Zoke said.
“There have been several generations of kings on both sides,” Vithos said. “So it seems unlikely for it to be something that happened many years ago, unless Humans are even better than us at holding on to the grudges of their dead.”
The three of them grew quiet again. It was the first time Zoke had heard Vithos refer to himself and Krepps as us. Zoke wondered if it was just to convince Nebre that he and Zoke weren’t a threat. Or could Vithos really consider himself just as much as part of the tribe as Nebre? Zoke shook his head. No, that can’t be.
When Zoke thought of the tribe, he thought of a tight sphere pulling all the Krepps together, more so than they wished at times. He used to believe that Doe, Haemon, and Vithos shared their own smaller bubble within the sphere of the tribe. But since learning more about Vithos, Zoke realized the Elf was really within his own bubble, separate from everyone else in the tribe, including Doe and Haemon, whether he wanted to be or not.
Vithos was never part of the tribe in the way that Zoke and Nebre were, and now he’d pulled Zoke into that bubble. Together, they’d drifted further and further from the sphere, but with war starting to boil, the heat from it was likely to reach them no matter where they went. He felt that it was only a matter of time before their bubble burst.
It almost had already during their first week together. Zoke was close to leaving Vithos. He blamed Vithos for taking him away from the tribe. He’d thought that his anger would never subside, but to his surprise it did. It helped that the days with Vithos were far easier to endure than his days in the tribe. Vithos didn’t call him gurradu or force him to perform tasks he didn’t wish to do. The constant voice that told him to watch his back had quieted, replaced with Vithos’ good company. He felt secure with the Elf, trusting his judgment.
Although he worried for Zeti, he knew her to be strong. She doesn’t need me to protect her anymore, Zoke thought. She’s a woman now and has acted as such for years already. It wasn’t so much the time away from her that disturbed him, but the thought that he might never see her again. He could endure months, even years, as long as he had hope—be it a small chance—that they would see each other again. He knew he would never let that hope go, even if he wanted to, because doing so would be the same as letting her die, and he could never allow that.
The night had blackened in the last hour with stars taking shape in the sky. The air was warm and fresh. Zoke let out a yawn that had been sneaking up on him in the last few steps. “Let’s find a place to rest,” he suggested.
They found an agreeable spot nearby where the dirt opened into a wide area between two thick trees. Nebre made no motion to lie down until Zoke and Vithos were completely settled. Zoke was half asleep already when he heard Nebre trying to get comfortable somewhere in the distance.
Zoke wasn’t sure how long he slept. He woke with Vithos pushing on his shoulder. “I cannot stay awake.” Vithos whispered so softly it took Zoke until his yawn had finished before understanding what he’d said.
Zoke gave a grunt to acknowledge he’d heard and looked around to find Nebre. He saw him lying at the base of a tree ten yards away. This is pointless, he told himself, but he held his eyes open as long as he could.
Eventually, he let his body rest against the dirt again. He drifted in and out of sleep. Every so often, he gave a glance to Nebre, who was always still.
He must’ve been asleep when it happened because he never heard Nebre coming until he was already above them.
At the sound of something shifting in the dirt next to Zoke’s ear, he shot to his feet. Nebre had both hands awkwardly around his knife. He must have been startled by Zoke, for he gave Zoke a quick look, but that didn’t stop him for more than a heartbeat. He went to his knees over Vithos with the knife raised high.
“Stop!” Zoke shouted. He dove and pushed Nebre away from Vithos.
“Get off me!” Nebre yelled.
Before Zoke knew it, they had broken into a wrestle. Wild limbs were being thrown, and weight was shifting back and forth faster than insults between two Krepps before a fight. They rolled farther from Vithos, and Zoke noticed a sudden change in Nebre. He was no longer trying to get away from Zoke. Instead, he was trying to find a way to push the knife into him.
“Coward!” Nebre yelled as he forced the knife a little closer to Zoke’s stomach. “Coward, coward, coward!” Zoke had Nebre’s wrist, pushing it away from him.
Zoke drove his knee into Nebre’s side and flipped, managing to roll himself on top. He had Nebre pinned, though Nebre was still forcing the knife toward him. Vithos came over them and aimed his palm at Nebre. His struggles deceased and he went limp, letting the knife out of his grip. Zoke took it, rolling off Nebre.
Nebre scampered to his feet. “Why did you stop me, Zoke?” Nebre shouted, hopping away. “You must be a traitor to let Vithos live all this time!”
Zoke felt a deep sadness to hear the accusation from his old friend, especially with such conviction. “Nebre, there’s a lot you don’t understand.”
“I always thought I was a coward and you were brave. But you’re the coward, not me. I’m the one who fought.” Nebre thumped his chest. “I’m the one who tried to kill the Elf. You would rather be a traitor than risk your life for the tribe.” He spat, and his saliva found Zoke’s feet. “Coward!” Nebre searched his belt in a panic. “You still have the scroll. Give it back. Throw it to me.”
“We’ll deliver it,” Zoke answered, wiping his foot on the dirt. “The Humans need to know of the threat, so we’ll tell them. Get out of here. Go back to the camp.” He was surprised to hear how calm he sounded. He wasn’t mad, though, so he didn’t know how else he should sound.
Nebre ran. He was out of sight in a blink, although the sound of leaves and sticks being crushed under his weight continued for another two breaths.
“We shouldn’t have let him go.” Vithos spoke with the same calmness as Zoke. “He knows where the new camp is. We should have at least gotten that information.”
“Perhaps,” Zoke said. “But it’s too late for that now.”
“You were protecting him, weren’t you? If we didn’t let him go, you knew what we would have to do.” The Elf’s voice became loud and forced. “What you would have to do.”
“He doesn’t need to die.”
“No one needs to die. But many will.” Vithos lifted a thumb to his face. “I didn’t start this war, but I’m part of it, just like you.” He jabbed a finger at Zoke. “We’re going to have to make tough decisions that will determine who lives and who dies. So, you should figure out what you’re willing to do now while you still have time to think about it. What would it take for you to kill another Krepp? What would it take for you to kill Zeti? What would you trade your life for? No one wants to think about these things, but we need to. If we don’t, we risk making a mistake when it’s time to take action. And mistakes can lead to even more death.”
Zoke spat but made sure to avoid Vithos’ feet. He was frustrated but kn
ew most of it wasn’t directed at the Elf. “If it’s so easy, what would you trade your life for, then?”
“Revenge, exposing the truth, stopping Doe and Haemon, saving someone I care about.” Vithos replied so quickly, it did seem as if he had the answer prepared. “You don’t need to know your answers now, but you’d better come up with them soon.”
Zoke waved his claws dismissively. “I already know I would never kill Zeti. Never. And she would never kill me.”
“You’re sure of this?”
“As sure as I am of the sun rising tomorrow,” Zoke said, remembering she used the same line last time he’d spoken to her.
Vithos leaned in close, staring for a breath. Suddenly, he nodded and the anger melted from his face. “It must be nice to know that about someone.”
Zoke’s frustration turned to pity. “It is.”
Vithos knelt to roll up his blanket. “You’re not a coward, you know. He’s wrong about that. It takes more courage to make decisions for yourself than to blindly follow orders.”
“So, you’re not afraid I’ll attack you as you sleep?”
“Should I be?”
Zoke shook his head. “No.”
Vithos smiled, slung his bag over his shoulder and started south.
“Where are you going?”
“To Kyrro. We’re not going to get any sleep tonight after what’s happened, so we might as well walk. Come, and I’ll tell you the story of when I asked Haemon where Krepps come from.”
“Does it have a surprise?” He was disappointed when the story of Tenred and Kyrro had no surprise. Usually the twist in Kreppen stories was fun, pleasing to discover—the exact opposite of what had just happened with Nebre. Zoke wanted a robust surprise more than anything at that moment. He craved it.