The color drained from Aibek’s face. He twisted his hands together in his lap as he fought the urge to jump to his feet. He’d never expected to hear from that village. For years, he’d had no idea whether the place had been destroyed or overrun in the invasion that had caused them to flee. Either way, he’d believed the townsfolk had no need of the last mayor’s son.
“Why? What does it say? Why did they wait so long?” He glanced at his aunt, who sat still and pale in her favorite chair by the fireplace. He hesitated, gulped, and asked, “Does it say anything about my parents?”
“It does. Here, why don’t you read it for yourself?” Serik handed the crumpled parchment to his young ward. The furniture was close enough that neither had to stand to reach across the gap.
The world could have imploded around him, and Aibek wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing existed except the paper in his trembling hands. Deep down, he had always maintained the dream of meeting his parents someday, and his heart leapt into his throat at the hope that this letter would fulfill that fantasy. However, the grim expression on Serik’s weathered features made Aibek doubt the note held good news.
He smoothed the wrinkles in an attempt to gain some composure before he read the neat script on the page.
My Dear Serik,
I hope this letter finds you well. I’m sorry so many years have passed without contact, but I couldn’t find a way to reach you without exposing your location to our enemy. The night you fled, our village was invaded by Helak’s warriors. We were completely unprepared for the attack, and their victory was swift.
Unfortunately, Eddrick and Kiri were killed in the battle. I’m sorry I don’t have better news—I know you were close to them.
I’m writing today because things here have changed. The villagers have overthrown Helak’s governor Tavan and his guards, and now the townsfolk are trying to return to their previous way of life. No one here believes that Helak will allow us to live in peace without attempting to regain control of our village. We need Eddrick’s son to return and help us defend the village from the inevitable attack. I trust you have trained him well.
I am looking forward to welcoming you and Aibek home again.
Please respond in all due haste.
Anxiously waiting,
Valasa
Aibek read the letter twice before he slowly lowered it to his lap. His eyes blurred with unshed tears, but he swallowed hard against them. He had long suspected his parents must be dead. Otherwise, they surely would have tried to learn what became of their only child. They’d never answered any of the letters he’d sent through the years.
Now the villagers wanted him to return and lead them through what could be a brutal massacre. The invaders had beaten the villagers easily the first time, or so the letter claimed, but they seemed sure he could lead them to a better life. He was nowhere near confident of that outcome.
“How can I lead a village I haven’t seen since I was a baby? Villagers I’ve never met are relying on me—a total stranger—to save them somehow?” Aibek scowled as he tried to reason through the villagers’ expectations.
As he spoke, Faruz took the letter from his hand and scanned it.
“I ‘m so sorry about your parents. Really, though, this is what you’ve trained for your entire life. You finally get to lead a whole army, and… and fight with something other than dull practice swords, Faruz babbled.
A long silence followed as Aibek struggled to come to terms with the news of his parents’ death. His aunt and uncle had raised him carefully, and his aunt had always treated him as her own child, but they had always made sure he knew who his parents were. He’d always treasured the hope of meeting them someday and having a father who would cheer him on at every step.
Aibek took a deep breath to clear his thoughts and sat up a little straighter. His family had made sure he was able to defend himself and his friends if he were ever called back to Nivaka. Still, he didn’t know how to lead a village. He’d always thought he would start out as a lower officer and gain responsibility as he learned from those above him. Now he was expected to assume the leadership of an entire village of strangers?
Serik sat quietly, with a blank expression. Aibek glanced at him and wondered what he was thinking. After all, this must be a shock for him, too.
Finally, Ira broke the silence. Tears streamed down her face, and she lowered the letter to her knees. “I always knew I would have to send you back someday. You were the answer to our prayers…”
While she was speaking, Noral quietly entered the room. He glanced from face to face, worry darkening his features. Aibek looked up at the interruption, then dropped his gaze before his uncle could meet his eyes.
Noral eyed his wife’s tears. “What’s happened?” He strode to her side and wiped her face gently with his handkerchief.
Serik spoke first. “We’ve had a letter from Nivaka. The time has come for us to return to the village.” He hesitated. “As we suspected, Eddrick and Kiri were killed in the invasion.”
Noral’s head fell to his chest. His face flushed red, and Aibek stared at the muscles working in his neck.
“I’ve already penned a response to this note,” the old man continued. “We’ll gather our supplies and be off within the week.”
Noral shook his head and looked toward his nephew. “Nivaka’s a beautiful place; I only wish I could go with you. I haven’t laid eyes on the forest since I was about your age.”
Aibek sighed; it was time to return to the forest. He just wished he had parents waiting to welcome him home.
2
Assignment
“They’re coming! He’s alive! And now they’re coming back!” Valasa shouted as he ran into the main room of his home. “I was never completely sure they made it to Xona, but they did. And now they’ve sent word they’re returning. Isn’t this wonderful news?” He shoved the newly arrived letter into his startled wife’s hands.
Ayja’s face set in a grim mask. “What are you going on about? Who’s coming? You know Helak’s men will return before too long. Now’s not the time for visits.” She paused for a moment to read the brief note he handed her.
When she finished, smiled at her husband. “They made it, then… Now the child will return to help us. Although he’s fully grown by now, isn’t he?” She stared out the window at the low clouds. “It doesn’t say when we should expect them.” She stood and made her way to the chair by the far window, her favorite spot to sit and think.
Valasa watched his wife’s movements. What could she be thinking? She didn’t look as excited as he’d thought she would. His enthusiasm seemed exaggerated compared with her quiet thoughtfulness. He stared at the brilliant halo of her pure white hair illuminated in the late afternoon sun.
It had been the same color since they were children, and, together with her delicate features, it gave her an ageless beauty.
“Wherever will they stay?” she asked after a long pause. “Eddrick’s old house is a mess after Tavan and his guards lived there for so long. It’ll take a great deal of work to make it livable.”
Valasa weighed his wife’s reactions. “I’ve been thinking about some of the particulars. They can stay in our empty rooms for a while.” When she said nothing, he continued, “Also, I think Ahren would be the perfect person to show him around once they arrive. She knows every nook and cranny of this town and all of the gossip.” He chuckled.
Ayja’s head whipped around and she met his eyes with a startled glance. “Do you think that’s wise? Why couldn’t Dalan or Alija or any of the other young men show him around? How do you suppose the young men in the city behave around young ladies?” She scowled and he took a breath, determined to set her mind at ease.
“The lad was raised by Eddrick’s brother. I have no doubt he’ll be perfectly respectful.” Valasa wouldn’t admit his real purpose to his wife—that he wanted their new leader to see their son in action, training for war, rather than playing tour guide.
She
scowled at him again, then glanced at the darkening sky outside the window. “I’m not so sure, but we have some time to work out the details. For now, I need to see to our dinner.”
When she finished speaking, Ayja rose from her seat and strode toward the kitchen at the back of their home. Her husband stood as well, but hovered near the fireplace, unsure what to do with himself. He finally wandered to his workroom, which occupied most of the west side of the house. He was confident he would find something to do in there. As the religious leader of the village, he was responsible for the health and wellbeing of the entire population, from the smallest plant to the highest ranking villagers. He had several unread letters on his desk that had arrived with the one from Xona. Valasa was confident that reading and preparing replies to those letters would keep him occupied until it was time to eat.
~*~
A few hours later, Valasa sat at the head of the small dining table with his wife to his left and their son, Dalan, and daughter, Ahren, on the right. They often preferred to eat in the small dining nook near the kitchen rather than the formal dining hall. It was a cozy space painted in shades of green. Small shelves adorned the walls, each crowded with diminutive wood carvings. Ahren had a promising talent at sculptures, but her father wished she’d practice more. Valasa thought she could make a good living selling the tiny, exquisitely detailed animal statuettes in the market. He hoped they’d be able to market them again in the very near future.
His offspring were devouring a meal of roast foul and squash. Valasa had seen a considerable increase in Dalan and Ahren’s appetites recently, and today was no exception. They dispatched the large meal in record time. He thought the change was likely due to the hours they spent every day learning to use the swords and spears they had found in the governor’s armory.
When they’d finished their meal, Valasa stared thoughtfully at his seventeen-year-old daughter. She was tiny; the top of her head barely reached his chest, though she had blossomed into a lovely young woman. Her long white hair—just like her mother’s—was bound tightly in a braid that brushed the ribbon tied around her waist. He wasn’t sure how she would react to his announcement, but he was ecstatic that his child would have the honor of welcoming their leader home. He was a little uneasy about Ayja’s reactions, too. His wife hadn’t exactly consented to the plan.
After a moment, Ahren’s crystal-blue eyes met his. “What? Do I have food on my face?” She wiped her napkin over her chin.
“No, not at all. But I do have wonderful news. Come with me to my study and we’ll discuss it.” Valasa stood and led the way out of the small dining nook.
~*~
Ahren trudged behind her father into his workroom.
How long is this going to take?
She was anxious to join her new friends at the Pavilion. She’d met Tamyr and Ahni soon after the governor’s assassination and had immediately liked them. Her other friends had been much less welcoming.
They must be worried about spies, Ahren thought.
That was the only reason she could think of that would explain her friends’ suspicion. She shrugged off the thoughts and closed the door behind her.
As she waited for whatever grand news had prompted this rare occasion, she looked around at her surroundings. She had seldom been allowed in this room; her father only used it when he wanted to work undisturbed. Any other time, he preferred to use the small desk in the den. He’d always said he liked to be near his family. Her father was an important man. He was the Gadonu, or religious leader and healer of their town, and she’d learned at a young age that he was not to be bothered when he was working.
The workroom was wide, extending over the entire side of the house. However, it was only a few steps to the far wall from the door they had passed through. She turned her head from side to side, craning her neck as she tried to see the entire space.
Dark golden wood covered the walls, unlike the light red shadow-wood used in the rest of the building and most of the village. Four windows let in the evening light, spaced evenly along the west wall, each covered with a simple dark blue piece of heavy fabric she assumed was meant to pass for a curtain.
There were nearly a dozen ornately carved desks and worktables scattered down the wall, some under windows, others haphazardly placed between them. Papers, vials, jars, and bottles littered each weathered surface. Shelves covered the entire east wall, displaying all manner of books, bottles, drawings, paintings, and carvings. There were only two breaks in the shelving, which allowed for the heavy wooden doors that led to the main parts of the house. She leaned closer to get a better look at a tall, narrow bottle that gleamed red in the lamplight.
“Don’t touch that one,” Valasa warned just as she reached toward it.
The sudden exclamation startled Ahren, who dropped her hand and walked to the desk near the center of the room, where her father lowered himself into the chair. Strands of silver streaked his long chestnut hair, catching the light from the lamp on the table. His beard had slowly turned gray over the past few years, and the solid silver presented a stark contrast to his mostly dark hair.
“I only wanted to read the label,” she murmured, anxious to let him know she wasn’t trying to meddle in his work or mess with his things. On her rare visits to this room, it had always felt alive somehow, and she never quite felt comfortable within its walls.
“It’s best not to touch. Now, let’s come to the point. I received the most wonderful news this afternoon.” He grinned broadly and gestured for his daughter to sit in the chair across from him. “How much do you know of what Nivaka was like before Tavan’s invasion?” Without pausing for an answer, he continued, “Were you aware that Eddrick and Kiri, the mayor and his wife, had a son only a few weeks before the invasion?”
“I’ve heard this was a peaceful, happy village, and that the mayor and his wife were very generous and loved by the people.” She seated herself in the chair he indicated. “And I do remember hearing they had a baby who was killed with them in the invasion… but… that’s all ancient history.” She shook her head and opened her mouth to say more, but her father cut her off.
“I received a letter today from an old friend. It turns out he escaped with Eddrick’s infant son. They fled to the city of Xona, where the mayor’s brother and his wife took them in.” He paused and his crystal blue eyes met his daughter’s. “I learned today they’re on their way home.” He smiled widely. “Aibek, the baby, is now twenty. He’s been raised as a leader and warrior and is coming back to help us keep our freedom.”
He stood and walked around the desk to face his daughter before continuing.
“I want you to show our new mayor around the village.” He grabbed her hand and held it between both of his. “And teach him the important points of our history here. He’ll help us defeat Helak’s troops when they return.” Valasa grinned.
Ahren frowned as she tried to process her father’s announcement. Someone from Xona was going to lead them? She’d heard they didn’t even have trees that far north. What would this person know of life in the forest? How would he handle their unique living situation? Her mind spun with questions. Ahren had expected one of the young men who helped overthrow the governor to step into the mayor’s role. Why should this northern stranger take that right away from those who’d fought for it?
Fury descended over her like a curtain. She struggled with her breath and stared mutely at her father. Long moments passed before she overcame the shock and voiced a reply.
“I… I don’t understand. A stranger? Why not Dalan? Or Alijah? They’re the ones who got rid of Tavan and his guards.” She paused and considered what her father had said. “And why should I have to show him around?” She jumped up and ripped her hand from her father’s. “There are so many men who’ve grown up here, who know our history and traditions and would be excellent mayors.”
“Aibek is no stranger.” Valasa’s reply was cool. “He was born here. It is true we have an abundance of strong, in
telligent young men in Nivaka, but none of them have been raised and trained to lead as Aibek has.” He placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and peered into her eyes. “This assignment is an incredible opportunity, and I fully expect you to treat it as such.”
He spoke in the authoritative tone she’d heard so often as a child. There was no point in arguing.
She dropped her gaze to the floor and sighed. “If it means that much to you, I’ll welcome this stranger and show him the important places in the village, but I hope you don’t expect me to fall at his feet and call him ‘my lord.’” She pulled out of her father’s grip and turned to look at the brilliant reds and oranges of the sunset visible through the small window. The images blurred, and she wiped a hand over her eyes.
She’d always hated her tendency to cry when she got angry. She took another deep breath and tried to gain control of her reactions.
“I don’t understand why we can’t elect a mayor from the citizens who’ve lived here all their lives. There must be at least a dozen people who would be perfect.” At that moment, another problem altogether occurred to Ahren. “Where will he be staying? He certainly can’t live in the mayor’s house on the square. It’s a huge mess after Tavan and his guards remodeled it. It’s hideous… and none of the other homes on the square have been repaired in years…” She trailed off as she remembered exploring the dilapidated buildings with her friends when they were children.
“I’ve decided our guests will stay here, in a couple of our spare bedrooms, until the mayoral home is repaired and ready.” When he saw she was about to object again, he continued, “Aibek will be traveling with an old friend of mine, the same man who escaped with him to the city and has served as his advisor there. I’m sure I’ll recognize Serik, so I’ll know they are who they say they are.” His voice hardened. “Really, it’s nothing to cry about. I know you’ll like him if you just give him a chance.”
The Last Mayor's Son Page 2