The Ghosts of Blood and Innocence

by Storm Constantine

  ‘They’re going to let us in, aren’t they?’ Darq said to Ookami.

  The Ikutama nodded. ‘Without a doubt.’ He took his swords from his saddle and strapped them round his waist.

  The food had been devoured and the hara who’d brought it had retreated back beyond the walls by the time the original spokeshar reappeared. He seemed to be more affable than before. ‘Our phylarch has consented to hear you,’ he said. ‘You are honored.’

  ‘I know we have you to thank for that,’ Darq said. ‘It won’t be forgotten.’

  ‘Bring your horses,’ said the har. ‘They’ll be cared for during your audience.’

  Darq and Ookami followed the har beneath the arch of the gates. The guards stared down at them sternly, and once they were in the small square beyond, every har in the area stopped what they were doing to stare also. Visitors were clearly rare in these parts. Huge torches illuminated the settlement, so that Darq could see the buildings in Nezreka were made of stone, with low brooding eaves; they appeared to be very old. It was not a large community and it huddled beneath an enormous cliff. From what Darq could see, it consisted of the central square, with a well in the middle of it, and a large building, presumably the office or home of the phylarch directly beneath the cliff. Other streets led off the square, but they were little more than alleys. These were lined by leaning dwellings.

  The Nezreka paused before the shallow flight of steps that led to the official-looking building. ‘I must ask you to surrender your weapons as a matter of courtesy,’ he said.

  Ookami, naturally, was unhappy about that, but reluctantly complied. Darq knew his reluctance was not so much because he wanted to remain armed, but that the swords were very valuable to him, both in terms of cost and emotional attachment.

  The Nezreka took them with due reverence. ‘Have no fear you will be robbed, tiahaar,’ he said, bowing. ‘I can see the value of these weapons, and we are an honorable tribe.’

  It seemed he had sensed the right words to flatter or at least mollify Ookami.

  ‘Give me your names,’ said the Nezreka, ‘and you’ll be announced.’

  ‘May we have your name?’ Ookami asked.

  ‘I am Jezinki har Nezreka. I am drudehar to our phylarch, who is Tava-edzen, Lord of the High Forests and leader of all our runners.’

  Darq was intrigued by all the epithets and resolved to ask questions later. He bowed his head and touched his chest lightly with the fingers of one hand. ‘I am Darquiel har Olopade.’

  Ookami made a similar gesture of respect. ‘Ookami har Ikutama.’

  Jezinki indicated for them to follow him into the building.

  ‘You’re not Anakhai, or weren’t originally, were you?’ Darq asked Jezinki, hoping that was not importunate. ‘I mean, you speak Megalithican so well, and… there’s no accent.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Jezinki conceded. He opened the wide double doors ahead of them with a flourish. Beyond was a dark entrance hall that smelled of smoke and polished wood. Darq glanced round before Jezinki closed the doors and he saw that flakes of snow had begun to fall outside; huge soft things that would cover the world in white without much effort and certainly no care.

  Jezinki led the way down a corridor, which was lined by several closed doors. On a table stood a vase filled with ferns and delicate white flowers with a strong scent. Next to the vase lay a pair of leather gloves. Further along, a series of heavy coats hung upon the walls and there were boots lined up beneath. This was definitely a home.

  Darq expected they would be taken to some kind of audience chamber, where Jezinki would do most of the speaking and the phylarch would sit in splendid isolation, listening and later pronouncing judgments. Instead, they were led to a fairly small room that overlooked a yard where washing hung, now acquiring a layer of snow. In this place was a hearth and a table set before it, surrounded by five chairs. Upon the table were documents, ink, pens, and parts of what looked like a horse’s bridle. Standing before the hearth was a har with hair the color of beechnuts, which fell over his shoulders in thick waves. It did not look remotely dusty.

  Jezinki bowed, ‘Tiahaar, may I present Darquiel har Olopade and Ookami har Ikutama.’

  The har came forward. Darquiel had to resist an urge to step back. Tava-edzen was first generation, clearly, and possessed such composure and charisma, it was dazzling. He moved and exuded the kind of confidence all young hara would wish to possess. His eyes were strangely pale, almost yellow, and although he emanated the ambience of a warrior, it was not at the expense of his feminine side. He was both gracious and fierce, beautiful and commanding, sensitive and powerful. Darq sensed all these things in an instant and it took his breath away. How could such a har be hidden away here, in this lonely spot, when he clearly should be running a tribe like the Gelaming? Unless, of course, he really was a were-har. That might explain the strange eyes.

  ‘You are welcome,’ Tava-edzen said, and his voice too was beautiful, low-pitched and clear. It was also unaccented, perhaps an adjusted Megalithican. ‘Jezinki tells me you wish to remain in Nezreka for the winter.’

  Darq bowed his head. ‘That is true, tiahaar. We do not wish to continue traveling in the harsh weather.’

  ‘Understandable,’ said the phylarch. ‘But Jezinki also tells me you were most insistent upon Nezreka over all other options, and also concerning your desire to speak with me. Why is this?’

  ‘Just… just a feeling,’ Darq said, which was the truth. He noticed that so far Tava-edzen had barely acknowledged Ookami, even though the Ikutama was obviously the older of the two of them and therefore in charge.

  ‘You know that we discourage visitors.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tava-edzen picked up the bridle from the table, ran the leather straps between his fingers. ‘It’s my choice to live apart from the world. I’ve seen too much of it in my life. Those who live here with me feel the same. We prefer a simple existence, closeness to these mountains and forests. The politics of Jaddayoth and beyond hold no interest for us.’

  ‘We know nothing of Jaddayoth politics,’ Darq said. ‘I want to remain here because it feels safe, and sometimes I don’t feel that. I’ll in no way compromise your security, I promise you, but if my presence here ever does, I’ll leave.’

  ‘You are being followed?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  Tava-edzen put his head to one side and raised his eyebrows. ‘Please explain what that means.’

  ‘Tiahaar.’ Ookami stepped forward. ‘I’ve been appointed as guardian to Darquiel. All I can tell you is that I believe his parentage to be of high status, which for some reason has been kept secret. I’ve been told that certain factions have an interest in Darquiel, which is why we’re traveling, keeping on the move. At some future stage, I believe his destiny will be revealed, but for now he’s a simple traveler, at the mercy of your judgment.’

  Tava-edzen smiled and put the bridle back on the table. ‘And what a privileged young traveler, whatever his status, to be protected by such an obviously noble warrior like yourself.’

  Ookami was clearly uncomfortable with that. He inclined his head.

  ‘Very well,’ Tava-edzen said. ‘I pay attention to significant events, and last night I had a dream that foretold of your coming. You may remain here for the winter, unless you break the rules of our tribe.’

  ‘Tell them to me and I won’t break them,’ Darquiel said.

  Tava-edzen nodded. ‘Respect the privacy of others. Do not raise your hand in violence. Venture only where you’re invited. You’ll also be expected to work for the community during your stay. Nohar here shirks his duty.’

  ‘That is acceptable,’ Ookami said, before Darq could utter anything else.

  Tava-edzen gestured to Jezinki. ‘Find them accommodation within this house.’

  Jezinki bowed. ‘As you wish, tiahaar.’

  ‘Good.’ Tava-edzen smiled and clasped his hands together. ‘In an hour, I’ll eat my dinner and you will join me to
tell me of your travels.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Although Tava-edzen was phylarch of Nezreka, which was technically a phyle of the Anakhai, the settlement was also administered by a council of elder hara. The phylarch’s house, known as the Drudehall, served as his palace, the council offices and the town Nayati. The councilors, known as the Laukumati, lived elsewhere in the town. Darquiel quickly discovered that the term drudehar, which Jezinki had given as his title, was the local variant of hienama, or a magical adept who served the phylarch.

  Darq made a lot of inferences during his first days in Nezreka, not least that Tava-edzen had most likely come from Megalithica originally, as Phade had done, and Jezinki had come with him. The phylarch did not appear to have an official consort, but Darq pondered whether Tava-edzen’s relationship with Jezinki was more than simply hienama and leader. He found that this thought filled him with perplexing anxieties.

  Many times, Darq lamented the fact that he now appeared to care what other hara thought of him. His childhood in Samway, free of such considerations, seemed like an idyll. He hated what feybraiha had done to him, and resolved to try and recapture his initial neutral stance. Surely, it should have been the other way around: a harling should seek favor because he wants to be loved, but an adult har should be in control of himself and removed from such manifestations of insecurity. He observed the harlings in Nezreka, of which there appeared to be about a dozen, and they seemed more like human children to him than the way he’d been as a harling. They were quicksilver, their attention flitting this way and that, endlessly fascinated by everything they came across, eager to learn and understand. They feared chastisement and responded well to approval. Not one of them, it seemed to Darq, had ever thought to themselves about the mechanics behind the word ‘sorry.’ If they did apologise, it was genuine. All of it puzzled Darq endlessly, but he didn’t feel he could mention the subject to Ookami.

  There was no school in Nezreka, since every family taught their own harlings, but Tava-edzen did request Ookami to teach some of his younger hara the eastern way with the swords. Darquiel ended up helping, and eventually it was more than harlings who came to learn. Apart from this activity, Ookami and Darq went hunting, and also sometimes worked in the tannery and the butcher’s workshop. The thing that pleased and intrigued Darq the most, though, was the fact that when they hunted, the Nezreka became wolves. This was not literal, as he’d once hoped, but they wore the pelts of wolves over their heads, with the limbs and tails trailing down their backs and the death mask snarling above their faces. When they took on the pelt of the wolf, they took on the quality of the animal. They could move without sound and anticipate each other’s moves.

  Few of the Nezreka could speak Megalithican, and most refused to mind touch with strangers, but a couple had clearly once come from the west, perhaps with Tava-edzen himself. Darquiel decided to befriend one of these hara, in order to get information.

  Nohar ever suggested that Ookami or Darq should wear a wolf pelt, so one morning, with the snow falling all around them as they prepared to leave for the hunt, Darq cornered a har named Bithi and asked him, ‘Must I catch my own wolf to wear him?’

  Bithi gave him a stare, then said, ‘It’s more than that.’

  Gazing at Bithi, with his dusty hair falling from beneath the mask of the wolf, Darq considered it would be pleasant to take aruna with a har wearing this costume. He dismissed the thought. ‘What, then?’

  ‘Only the Weavers may bestow the mark of the wolf,’ Bithi said. ‘It’s tribal lore. You can never wear the wolf, because you’re not of our tribe.’

  ‘But if I should stay here…?’

  ‘You won’t.’ Bithi mounted his horse, a strong pony with a thick winter coat. He gathered up the reins, clucked to it, then said, ‘Come on. The days are short now.’

  The Nezreka rode their tough ponies to the locations where they began to hunt, and then left their mounts behind, hobbled. Darq did wonder why he’d ever been invited to participate, since doing so meant he had to be treated as ‘pack’. Surely, if the Nezreka were so against outsiders knowing their lore, they’d have made Ookami and Darq simply work in the town? He decided to ask Bithi directly. The response was interesting: ‘Tava-edzen requested we bring you with us.’

  ‘Why?’

  Bithi shrugged. They had reached the place where the horses would remain. ‘He will have his reasons.’

  Ookami, naturally, was very good at hunting, even though he was more like a lone mountain lion than a wolf. The Nezreka worked in a team, seeking deer and the wild sheep and goats that had once belonged to humans but had gone feral. Never once did Darq see wolves, at least not at first.

  It did not escape Darq’s notice that Zu was absent, as if his influence couldn’t penetrate Nezreka’s walls, either the physical or etheric variety. Perhaps this was why Darq’s instincts had been so strong about the place, but he thought it must be more than that. He wanted to talk with Tava-edzen, to know how he’d come here, and why. He must have been some high-ranking har in Megalithica. He had a story and a history, and the tantalizing scent of it tugged at Darq’s senses. He wanted to know Tava-edzen’s secrets, which were sure to be plentiful and wondrous. He wanted to know about the wolves. However, apart from the first evening, when Tava-edzen had wanted to hear their stories, the phylarch thereafter paid little attention to his visitors. Perhaps he was wary of his secrets being uncovered. Darq wondered what he did with himself all day, since he did not appear to go hunting or indeed take part in any other communal activity.

  Darq asked Jezinki, who he also seldom saw, if it would be possible to have another audience with the phylarch, but Jezinki only said, ‘Perhaps. He’s busy at the moment.’

  ‘Doing what?’ Darq wanted to ask, but kept silent.

  He explored the Drudehall but found nothing to suggest a sinister or romantic wolf cult, a mysterious history, or anything else remotely of interest. There were wolf pelts hanging in the Council Chamber, and lots of decorative carvings, but nothing more. The Laukumati, although admirable hara in their own way, did not possess the same astounding appeal as Tava-edzen. Darq had met a few of them, and had experienced a mutual lack of interest.

  Tava-edzen became Darq’s obsession. On the rare occasions he came across the phylarch, and Tava-edzen’s gaze fell upon him, Darq felt a jolt within his flesh. The phylarch’s eyes were so wise, so there; they could see right into a har. But nohar would give Darq information about Tava-edzen, so after Darq had been in Nezreka for around two weeks, he decided to undertake some clandestine research of his own.

  The best time to conduct investigations was the hour after breakfast, since most hara were then engaged in the first of their daily activities. Because Nezreka was small, it was difficult to get away from others, but fortune threw a coin in Darq’s direction. One morning, the har who ran the butchery asked Darq if he’d mind taking a delivery of meat to a har who lived alone some miles down the mountain. Apparently, this har was some kind of hermit, who had once been part of the community but now preferred to live alone, for whatever reason. Darq agreed to the task, realising he now had free time and, most importantly, time alone.

  He rode Follet like a maniac down the perilous mountain road, so that he skidded and stumbled. The colt didn’t appear to mind, being of a somewhat manic nature anyway. Darq followed the instructions he’d been given on how to find the recluse’s cottage. Here, Darq virtually threw the parcel of meat at the rather astonished har who responded to his shouted summons. Without further pause, Darq took off again, this time, not up the main track but on a path that would take him round the side of Nezreka. The one area where the hunters did not venture was the cliff top behind the town. Darq decided this was the place he would start nosing around. He was sure he’d find something of interest there.

  The forest, shrouded in snow, was silent. Darq was aware of excitement building within him. He trotted Follet along the edge of the trees, where a narrow path skirted the prec
ipice from which the land swept downwards to his right, in a tumble of cliffs and rocks. He kept in view the skeins of smoke rising from Nezreka’s chimneys. It would not aid his purpose if he got lost. He could feel the season changing around him, the indefinable frisson in the air that spoke of the approach of Natalia, the winter solstice. It was only three weeks away. At that moment, he decided that by Natalia things would be different. Exactly how they would be so, he’d yet to calculate, but he knew it would be good.

  A creature that at first Darq took to be a large dog stepped out onto the path some yards ahead of him. He quickly realised it was a wolf. But didn’t wolves travel in packs? Darq reined Follet to a halt, even though the colt didn’t appear to be that concerned about the predator ahead of them. The wolf stared at Darq and Darq stared back. Then the creature yawned and loped off along the path. It seemed like an invitation. Darq chuckled to himself. At last! Something would be revealed to him now; he was sure of it.