by Nelson, J P
My momma squeezed my waist real tight, and suddenly the old man slapped his heels into Dahnté’s sides and that horse took off running. There were four trees real close to our quarters where we could see, and the man and stallion headed straight for one so fast I couldn’t believe it, then they ran around that tree dropping so low and close to the ground I just knew the old man would fall off, but instead they came around and headed for another tree and did the same thing.
“Yes-s-s!” I heard my momma say in whispered excitement. They did that around all four trees two or three times, and then with the knob end of his cane he hit something off of the ground which went flying out of our view. Trotting up, then slowing down to a walk, they came back to just outside of our doorstep; then facing us again Dahnté picked one leg up, bowed his head way down, and lowered himself on the one front leg as far as he could. As he did, the old man doffed his hat and my momma clapped her hands.
Was her eye twinkling just a little? I didn’t like that. What did it mean?
As Dahnté stood back up and the old man put his hat back on, I noticed he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at my momma … and my momma was smiling. I didn’t even know a horse could run. The ones Barlan put harness on always walked wherever I saw them go.
“I’ve no idea of his breedin’, but his blood runs hot and he was born and raised in some really mean mountains.” The old man looked a little winded, but the stallion looked like he could keep on going.
Dahnté stamped twice and held his right foot up and tossed his head. I just stared and marveled; never had I thought I would be so close to a demon horse. I just knew he was getting ready to grab me.
The old man chuckled, “Dahnté’s tryin’ to show off to you, skipper, he wants you to feed him some sugar …” Still staring at the stallion, from the corner of my eye I caught the old man look to my momma and say, ask, “… or an apple …”
“Komain,” my momma whispered into my ear, “I want you to stand right here for just a moment.” Slowly she stood up and I about panicked. Taking my hands in her much stronger ones, she gently guided me behind the door-post and said, “You are very, very safe. You don’t even have to look out. I’m just going over here to our apple barrel.”
Was my momma crazy? I watched her walk over to the barrel, but then I whirled around and peeked out to the horse and the old man. He was looking at me, and then tilted his head as if he wanted to see around the door. The old man was smiling. As he rubbed the horse’s mane, Dahnté put his foot down.
Casually speaking to me, the old man said, “He’s what they call a liver-chestnut. It’s a color. We don’t see it around here much.” I said nothing, but kept watching. He started to add, “You know … maybe sometime I could …” it got real awkward, “I could tea- …” he shifted in his saddle and put his tongue to his bottom lip while thinking, “Uhm, do you ride?”
Quickly I ducked back around and braced myself against the wall as I heard him say, “Uh-h-h … I guess not.” With my elvin-hearing I thought I heard him mutter, apparently to himself, “Now that was a damned swabby thing to ask …” I heard something like cloth swish and I peeked back around. He had taken his hat off and was wiping his head with his sleeve and muttered again, “… of course he doesn’t ride. They wouldn’t stand for …” I saw him glance my way and I ducked my head back.
Momma was looking at me and smiling to herself as she walked back to the door. It sounded like the old man chuckled and muttered again, “I’ll be jiggered … he can probably hear a tuna breathe at forty fathoms below.”
My momma stepped down to the snow-packed ground and I looked around to watch and I noticed he had put his hat back on. That old man must be a demon to ride that horse, but my momma … I, I couldn’t wait to see what powers my momma could have over it.
I was mesmerized watching as my momma slowly walked up to that big, black-red horse with the fire coming out of its mane and tail. The old man had a smile on his face and I was afraid he would try to catch her off guard and run off with her. Right there I made up my mind if he did I would have to stop him. How, I didn’t know, but scared as I was I knew I would do whatever I had to do. I breathed in real deep and prepared myself to die in battle to save my …
She reached out her hand and the stallion raised his hoof again. For me the air was thick with anticipation, but my momma’s face was tranquil as I heard her start to hum. The horse put his nose into my momma’s hand as gently as if he were a newborn foal. She fed Dahnté the apple and looked over to me with a smile; but then she did something else, something that bothered me deeply … she then looked at the old man and smiled at him, too.
That was my smile, and he was taking it.
They looked at each other for a long time, at least a whole minute or two. She rubbed Dahnté on the nose, under the chin and between his ears. Then she looked at me and I saw her face change, if just ever so slightly. She knew I wasn’t happy.
Glancing toward the main keep, the old man broke the silence and spoke to her with a serious undertone, “They probably wouldn’t make it a point to tell you, but war is comin’ to Gevard. A new chief is risin’ up among the orgs and Stone Bridge has already taken to arms. For ten days we stood siege and won over those gaffers, but it is a surety they are plannin’ to move on our eastern border, en-mass.
“Even as we speak, riders are movin’ fast to spread the word and call a meetin’ with the Chancellor and Council of Dukes.”
He glanced up to our chimney, then to the far off tree lines in the mountains. The old man reminded me of my momma when she had something on her mind, but wasn’t sure what or how much to say.
“I think maybe three to four weeks, possibly five, maybe even six, but the attack will come, you can depend on it. I think closer to three, unless I can convince Autler to launch our own attack, get them before they get here.”
She glanced in the direction of the main keep, “Will they want you to reprise your role as Duke?”
The old man looked at my momma with reserved sarcasm, “No, oh no. Not with Hestlin about to gain full vestment. He’s been Bor-Duke for too long, and the clan wasn’t exactly pleased with me, to begin with.”
He looked down at his saddle, then back at my momma, “It’s been what, a bit over fourteen years?”
My momma replied, “Fourteen years, seven months, and eight days today.”
I just looked at her and thought, ‘Huh?’
He took off his hat and dusted some imaginary dirt from it and adjusted the crease in the crown, then the feather. Draping it on the fold of his elbow he looked up and somehow he looked defeated when he said, “Yes. Yes I guess it has been that long.”
Again the moments became awkward and then my momma asked, “You didn’t find what you were looking for?”
“No,” the old man replied, and I thought he looked to be in emotional pain as he added, “I didn’t.”
His features took on a haunted look, and then looking over at me he asked, “How old is the boy?”
“He is only turned twelve. His name is Komain J’Sehf.” My momma said with some degree of pride. I don’t know why, but I felt a warmth swell up in me the way she said it.
The old man’s face changed a little and glanced from me, to my momma, then back to me. “J’Sehf …” he said, “That’s Elvish for …” he hesitated.
Then my momma added, “… for Josephus.”
I was completely lost. ‘So what,’ I thought. They were speaking on levels that were beyond me, it wasn’t fair.
“Aph tahoist neh siunehti qohm faiyoh?” His question caught me by total surprise. Not only did he just ask my momma’s permission to come visit, but he did it in Elvish, in particular, our own dialect. Where did he learn that, and why was he asking in the first place? Nobody asked, they just came.
“Hestä,” she answered softly and with a smile, “… gohm aph siun-s’sutahni. Pu’tahii.” Now I was really confused, and upset. She just gave him permission, and then thanked him
for asking.
I saw a little smile cross his face, almost a kind of relief. Putting his hat on his head, the old man pulled the brim and nodded toward my momma, another action I didn’t understand, and turned that big horse and rode away at a canter.
Chapter 5
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WAR! THAT CHANGES things. So far, all I knew was what I had heard from my momma’s stories, but she had seen it, smelled it, and lived it. She still wouldn’t tell me any details and truth to tell, I don’t think any of the humans really knew much about her, either; none of them, except maybe the old man, and I wasn’t so sure I liked that. It had only been us for as long as I had been born, forever, and the thought of sharing anything about her went up the wrong side of my hair.
When he had ridden away that first time, my momma stood there for a couple moments and watched; then she walked back in and kneeling beside me, we watched until you couldn’t hear the hoof-beats anymore. Turning to look at me, I could tell she was waiting for me to say something, so I did. Very plainly I said, “I don’t like him, momma, I don’t like him a whole lot.”
It’s not what she wanted to hear me say, I could tell, but she thought about it, closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, and slowly nodded her head, “I can understand,” she said softly.
Whatever my momma thought she knew of the old man, I was sure she was wrong. He was human, and that was the end of it. Humans couldn’t be trusted.
Our evening was quiet and I could see momma had a lot on her mind. We had eaten and cleaned up when curiosity go the better of me and I asked, “Momma, who was he?”
She smiled at the question and answered, “How about I tell you who he is, the short version?”
I nodded enthusiastically and settled in for what just might be a story; and I never tired of my momma’s stories.
“At the Time of my Taking …” uh-oh, I thought, this was going to be tough, or hard, or both; all I had heard so far about that terrible time was that everyone in her family had been slain, and she taken by humans, then brought here to Gevard. Only she never talked about it, and she only referred to it as the Time of her Taking. Even now she was hesitant.
Breathing deeply, then exhaling a slow sigh, she continued, “… there was this … this young human man. He wasn’t like the others, but I didn’t know it at first. He wasn’t in charge and was only a lieutenant, but I remember him getting upset and challenging his superiors, saying he wanted to go on record that he didn’t approve … didn’t approve what was happen- …” My momma fought to keep control and I was aware enough to hold her hand, which she squeezed back, “… He didn’t approve of what was going on.
“I remember he got into serious trouble because of that. His superiors called him weak; they even stripped him of his rank and position. When we, when they brought me to Gevard … I didn’t see him anymore for a long time. Later, much, much later, I learned he had been exiled from his family, the House Fel’Caden.
“Then one day, more than forty years later, he returned a very wealthy man, only people were calling him Roveir, instead of his birth name, and that is how I got to know him. Over the next eleven years, turbulent family politics led to a grave need for a new Duke to be established from a different side of the family.”
“Wait, momma, they’re all human. How come he’s still alive if he was there when, when your Time of Taking happened?”
“Because, remember me telling you there were some humans who live a long time, at least a long time for humans?”
I nodded.
She hesitated and thought about how and what to tell me, “There were once many children in the first Fel’Caden family, and all of them lived a long, long time compared to other humans. But as they married regular humans and had children, they lived shorter and shorter life spans. Now there are only a few left who live a long time. The man on the horse is one of those, and Roveir is one of the last.
“A lot of the family didn’t like him because he hated slavery and other things common in this country, but he was strong, had good ideas to defend his home, and everyone knew where they stood with him, even if they didn’t like it. So they made him the Duke. Later, when war with the southern barbarians started, the Council of Dukes elected him Chancellor, the highest position in the whole country. There hasn’t been any fighting on Gevard soil since then, and that was sixty years ago.”
“But, mamma,” I looked at her emphatically, “why are you still a slave if he didn’t like it?”
She rested her chin in her hand and said, “Because even though he was Duke, a Duke can’t just change things, not even a Chancellor. A Duke has to have meetings with Family Elders and make decisions together; a Chancellor has to have meetings with the Council of Dukes. You see, we … we don’t belong to one person; we are declared property of the House of Fel’Caden. But …” she brushed my hair from my eyes, I always liked that, “… for as long as he was Duke, nobody ever came and gave me bad visits.”
I thought about that, and as much as I didn’t like him, this Roveir, well, maybe there was one good thing about him.
The next morning was Sabboday, and the House Fel’Caden was a strong, religious lot. Of course I never understood their religion.
My momma had taught me well in the reverence, worship, and statutes of Jh’Rhohai, who the T’dahrosheim revered as the All Father and Creator. Jh’Rhohai was more of a title than a name, although as I got older I privately questioned how a father could let all the bad things happen to us. Where was He; didn’t He listen to my momma’s prayers? The way I saw it, when my momma was taken, her family killed, and all the other bad things that were done to her … well … if He really existed, then He was watching, and He had done nothing about it. I never said anything like that to my momma, though.
As far as the House Fel’Caden goes, momma said they worshiped someone called Eayah, supposedly the god of the sun, knowledge, wisdom and benevolence. But what kind of religion is it that lets you do all that holy benevolent stuff, pray loud prayers, give money to a priest covered in jewelry, and in the evening walk down to the elf quarters and rape the woman in there just hours after the religious service? It was a question burned into my mind, even as a young child. I’m still waiting for an answer, an answer I never expect to receive.
I’ve also wondered, although not so intently, why humans seem to wait for one day a week to pray to their deity, who or whatever it is? Momma taught me to pray anytime; our church was among nature itself, not a stuffy building or an ornate chapel.
In any case, being Sabboday morning, momma and I wouldn’t have to go out and work.
Once our breakfast was finished, she started looking around the inside of our quarters like I had never seen her do before. She looked at me, then the Dream Catcher designs, to the fireplaces, and then back at me. It was sort of spooky watching her.
She walked into the rock room and looked around some more and then calmly asked, “Komain, would you come in here, please?”
I’ve watched a lot of human parents with their young and I’ve seen a lot of the young argue with those parents. There was none of me arguing with my momma. If she asked me to do something, I did it and asked why later.
I went into the rock room and she had me stand back against the wall. Reaching down she grabbed some loose dirt into her hand, then took one of mine and made me feel the back of hers and asked, “Can you feel this?” Then the dirt in her hand began to slowly swirl. As it did, my momma looked carefully in my face like she was looking for something.
At first I felt nothing but her hand, but then … could I feel the dirt moving, somehow? No. But her hand did tingle; only her hands tingled a lot. Sometimes just being next to her it kind of felt like bees were buzzing, a little, but I thought nothing of it. I looked at the dirt; she wanted me to feel the dirt, but I couldn’t.
Disappointed in myself I said, “No, momma.”
With her ever patient smile, she said, “It’s okay, Komain, you will. There are t
hings I haven’t been able to teach you … or show or tell you … but there are still a few things I can.”
I started to ask a question but she then turned, looked to the floor, and tossed her handful of dirt out into the middle. Usually when we drew on the floor we used sticks, sometimes our fingers. This time she moved her hands about while humming some sounds I had never heard before, then with a clap of her hands and a flourish of fingers she circled her left hand upward and right hand down … and a whirl of dirt rose up from the floor, spun around, then settled into a miniature version of mountains and several valleys.
Astounded, I just stood there with my mouth wide open.
“Momma …” I started slowly and with awe, “where did you …”
“Komain,” the tone in her voice was gentle, yet firm as she said, “I need you to listen to me. I don’t know when I’ll be able to talk with you like this again. We have a very special, important time in front of us. I know you don’t understand, but one day you will, I promise.” I noticed she was scrunching her forehead a little, and then she rubbed her temple some, like she had a headache, which she almost never had.
“If you were flying up high like a bird and looked down, this is what Gevard looks like. See the mountains … and this big river over here? Guess what?” She moved over to a spot off to the edge and pointed. “This, Komain, is where we live.” Rolling her hands once more, the dirt again moved and I could see little tiny buildings rise up from the dirt.”
“Wow-w-w!”
She pointed to this one large building which was connected to several smaller ones, all surrounded by two walls. There were some buildings connected to the inner wall on the inside, but there was only empty space in between the two walls. Overall it looked like a big egg, and at the big end was a gate with four big towers. Two more gates were on either side of the little end.
As I stared, I noticed not far from one of the small gates was another little group of buildings. I got close to see and noticed a whole bunch of apple trees and two figures moving. My eyes got even bigger as I saw these were a woman and a little boy ... and they were dancing around the trees, “Momma!” I said in excitement, “It, it’s you and me!”