Keepers of the Ancient Wisdom (Kalie's Journey Book 3)

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Keepers of the Ancient Wisdom (Kalie's Journey Book 3) Page 24

by Sandra Saidak


  Orin thanked the messenger, who was led away by two acolytes. The discussion began at once, of what could be done, and what should be done, but Kalie heard little of it. She did hear Otera’s terse, but polite farewell. “We have our marching orders,” the tall woman said.

  And I have mine, Kalie thought, and slipped out of the temple like a ghost.

  Chapter 28

  She would have simply walked out of the town with a few hastily gathered supplies if Alessa had not stopped her.

  Kalie tried to explain that yes, she could just leave without saying goodbye to her children, because saying goodbye would hurt too much. And what if she cried or said something foolish? That might be the last memory they had of her, and besides, Yarik had already lost one mother, and a serious goodbye might frighten him.

  But Alessa was relentless. More importantly, she wasn’t trying to prevent Kalie from leaving. So Kalie nursed Melora one last time, and told Yarik he would be staying with Aunt Brenia again, and she would see them all as soon as she could.

  Then Alessa checked Kalie’s provisions, and repacked everything, adding a few things, but knowing Kalie had to travel light. “Drink a cup of this tea every morning,” Alessa said, adding a pouch containing a blend of herbs. “It will help you keep your milk, if you’re not gone too long. Express some every day; nurse another woman’s baby if you can, while Minda and Aldera nurse yours.”

  Wordlessly, Kalie hugged Alessa.

  “You’re not riding Blossom?” Alessa asked.

  “She’s gone with the all the others. I don’t even know which group took her. Probably just as well.”

  They walked to the bridge, Kalie memorizing the town that had become home to her in such a short time. From the bridge, Kalie looked down at the water, now a tiny stream that had once been a river. The day was hot, and many people sat on both banks, dipping their feet in the cool water. Despite her serious mood, Kalie felt a fission of pleasure at the sight of nomad women who were barely distinguishable from the locals.

  While a few stubbornly continued wearing their felt robes, most had taken to wearing the lighter local fabrics, although they still covered more of their bodies than the settled folk did this time of year. Most still wore some kind of veil, but now only to cover their hair, and these too were lighter and more colorful than before.

  Sitting apart from the others, close to where the bridge ended, was Kestra. Kalie paused a moment, then walked the few steps needed to see what the other woman was doing. Kestra was piling pebbles from the riverbank into a tower, talking to herself in a sing-song voice as she did. A pile of twigs sat beside her, and now and then, Kestra would slip one between some rocks. As Kalie watched, Kestra pulled on one of the twigs, and the tower collapsed. Then she began again, talking all the while.

  “How long has she been like this?” Kalie asked.

  “Just the last few days,” replied Alessa. “But she’s been getting stranger and more distant for at least the last moonspan.”

  “Where’s her baby?” Kalie asked with concern.

  “In her tent. Kestra’s happy to nurse him when he’s brought to her, and plays with him for awhile. Then, she just seems to forget about him. Ilara has been staying with her since Borik left, looking after Saryk and doing most of the cooking.”

  “And sharing Alrik’s bed?” Kalie asked.

  “Probably. I can’t see Alrik allowing her to stay under any other circumstances. And you know Ilara. She’s determined to get inside the minds of these people.”

  “Like someone else I know,” Kalie said, but then her attention returned to Kestra. She could make out most of the words, because they seemed to be part of a story.

  “The rabbit was caught in a trap. The hunter slept, for he was not yet hungry and the sun was warm. When at last the hunter went to collect his meal, he found the rabbit had chewed his way out of the trap. And then the rabbit ate the hunter.”

  Kalie and Alessa looked at each other in shared confusion.

  “Look after her, Alessa,” Kalie said. “If her mind can’t heal, at least keep her safe.”

  “I will,” Alessa promised. The unspoken “as safe as anyone can be” was understood.

  The two women embraced, and then Kalie skirted what was left of the nomad camp, and headed into the sparse forest and down the rocky hillsides, walking nearly half the day without seeing anyone. Grateful for the solitude, she worked on various plans to free the captives of Starfall, to draw the horde into a battle at the foot of Stonebridge, to singlehandedly defeat the Wolves who preyed on her people.

  The sound of horses caused Kalie to slip behind the nearest tree and freeze before she even knew what she was doing.

  It wasn’t much of a tree, and Otera spotted her easily. She slowed her horse, and seemed about to speak, but Kalie just started walking again, not looking at Otera, or the line of women behind her. About half were mounted, the other half walking.

  Otera rode her horse beside Kalie, keeping the pace so those on foot could keep up easily. Kalie continued to ignore her. They walked this way until close to sunset.

  “Taking the battle to the enemy alone?” Otera finally asked.

  Kalie said nothing.

  “Excuse me for asking, but didn’t you already do this once before? Marching off on your own to defeat the beastmen? As I recall, it didn’t work out too well last time.”

  Kalie kept walking, but looked back along the silent column behind Otera and finally spoke. “Actually, the last time I tried this, it was with about thirty naïve women behind me, all thinking I would lead them to victory. And things didn’t work out too well for them. Have you told your followers that story?”

  “Yes, but you’re the storyteller, and besides, you were there. Why don’t we find a place to camp, and you can tell it tonight.”

  “Because I’m trying to forget it!” snapped Kalie. Why was this woman being nice to her? “At least this way, I can only get myself killed.”

  “That would be a waste. Ride with us, and maybe we can help each other.”

  “I don’t have a horse!” Kalie was tired and her feet hurt, but she wasn’t about to share a fire with this group.

  Otera laughed. “I know. But I know who has yours!” She held up her hand and the other riders stopped, rather messily, although only two horses actually bumped into each other. Kalie nearly laughed at what Riyik, or any steppes warrior, would make of such ill-prepared recruits.

  “Danarie!” Otera called. “Walk awhile. Kalie will ride your mount. Or, should I say, hers?”

  “Blossom!” The word was out before Kalie could stop it. For her part, Danarie, an older woman, walking stiffly and rubbing her backside, seemed relieved.

  “I should have known that riding all day would be different from riding a few times in a large circle,” said Danarie. “You’re welcome to her.”

  Kalie leapt easily onto her old friend. And Blossom did seem happy to have her there.

  “Do you people really think you’re ready for this?” Kalie asked.

  “As ready as anyone ever is,” said a woman of about twenty years. “Another year of training would have been most welcome, but this is what we have.”

  They continued along a narrow trail until they came to a likely place to camp: flat ground, grass, a freshwater spring and plenty of branches on the ground for a fire.

  The women, twenty three of them, Kalie counted, went efficiently about the business of making camp. Kalie saw to her horse, and then strode across the clearing to where Otera sat on a log, supervising. “All right, Otera, why are you being nice to the woman who you blame for singlehandedly causing the downfall of our civilization?”

  “I never thought it was your fault alone,” said Otera. “Although, I’ll admit, I probably sounded like I did.”

  “To put it mildly,” Kalie muttered.

  “I have mellowed some,” said Otera. “Or, at least I’ve learned to be less of a bitch.”

  Kalie laughed. “You sound like a horsewoma
n! What other words in their language have you learned?”

  “Just the swear words and insults. But they have so many of those, I could probably have an entire conversation with their king, given the chance.”

  Kalie felt her spirits lift at the change in Otera—not to mention the image of Otera speaking with a captured enemy king, which made her want to giggle. But she was still wary of this angry woman, so Kalie waited.

  “I’m sorry for the things I said to you,” Otera finally said, nearly through shut teeth. “And, yes, you were right about the need to learn this cursed new art called war. Those warriors you brought were good teachers. But we’re out of time, and you know more about our enemy than any of my warriors, save Malana. And you have more experience actually fighting—and riding—“ Otera rubbed her back, “than any of us.”

  Lanara, who Kalie remembered was a healer, began bringing a pain-killing tea of willow bark and chamomile to the women who had ridden, and offered massages to the sorest. “Stay with us, Kalie,” she said. “No one wants to see you killed, or worse, captured again. We’ve all got a better chance of surviving if we work together. And I think you’ll find Otera is a different person when she’s in the company of only women.”

  Otera glared at Lanara, but said nothing.

  Kalie thought about it. “What’s your plan?” she asked Otera.

  Otera shrugged, suddenly seeming at a loss for words. “I’d like it to sound better, but it comes down to posing as a group of helpless women, and letting them chase us into an ambush.”

  “Didn’t the first few villages already do that?” Kalie asked.

  “Very successfully!” said Danarie.

  “At first,” said Kalie. “But the beastmen have gotten wary of such traps.”

  “It was my thought…” Otera looked morose, as if speaking of the plan out loud showed its flaws. “It was my thought that a group of only women, especially women carrying weapons and dressed in armor might…distract them.”

  “Amuse them, more likely,” said Kalie. “But that could be exactly what will give us the advantage. It would only work with a small scouting party.”

  “Of which there are many,” said Lanara, sitting beside Kalie, while others began to pass around the food: cakes of dried meat, fruit, and fat, with flat bread. Water from the spring balanced the dryness, but also made small portions ideal.

  “Yes,” added a woman Kalie remembered as Derona. “In fact, starting tomorrow, we’ll have to be on watch for them.”

  “That close?” Kalie nearly dropped her bread. This was news to her. But welcomed news, for it meant that the time of waiting and worrying was finally over. Let the battle finally begin, she thought.

  “So what were you going to do, all alone, Kalie?” asked a pretty girl, barely a woman. “I’m Erobia, by the way.”

  Kalie thought about it. She wished she had a wonderful story about a secret weapons and plan which would allow a single woman to accomplish what a hundred warriors could not. She had certainly created enough of those tales when she lived as a slave among the Aahk. But tonight, the truth was less exciting.

  “Just gather information, and find a group I could join. One that stood a chance of making a difference.”

  “And have you found that group?” Otera asked.

  “I think I may have,” said Kalie.

  There were smiles then, and quiet words of welcome. Soon after, they prepared for sleep. Kalie was relieved to see Otera posting as guards the women Kalie would have chosen herself. They were silent and alert, and had obviously done this before. Otera and two others would take the next shift. It was well planned, at least.

  As they lay in their bedrolls, Kalie whispered to Otera. “You do realize that if we are caught, these men will rape us before taking us to their king as prizes?”

  From the darkness she heard Otera’s voice, as cold and brittle as ice. “Realize? Kalie, I’m counting on it.”

  Chapter 29

  They traveled through land that was nearly untouched by war. Except for the walls—fences, really—thrown up around villages, and farmers practicing with weapons in the fallow fields, Kalie could almost imagine the world was still the same as the one she had been born in.

  They stopped at each village for news, and were always offered food and a place to sleep. That at least hadn’t changed. Messengers remained busy, but the only thing anyone was talking about was Starfall: how long would the horde remain there, and whether this would be the battle that would decide the future.

  As they traveled, Kalie became better acquainted with the strange assortment of women Otera had collected and trained. She already knew that Lanara was a skilled healer, whose calming presence was a deeply appreciated counter to Otera’s stormy moods and intensity. The two often spent evenings at the campfire discussing remedies and techniques, especially in the new area of battle wounds.

  Kalie learned that Danarie was the best with a spear, and that Derona, much to her own surprise, took to horseback riding like she was born to it. Valeska still had not spoken since being assaulted more than a year ago, but was deadly with rocks, whether launched from her sling or simply flung from her strong right arm, which, with her newly developed muscles, no longer matched her left arm. Kalie sometimes practiced with her, when she needed a break from her bow or throwing sticks. Young Erobia was highly skilled with the bolo which could tangle a horse’s legs, as well as being the best scout in the group. Griva, once an apprentice healer, divided her time and effort between helping Lanara, practicing spear-throwing, and learning the beastmen’s language.

  All of them had experienced the same sexual violence that Kalie had, or lost friends, along with any sense of safety or ability to fit in with the world they had been born into. Although Kalie had not expected to, she found herself growing comfortable with these women, in a way she had not felt with anyone since her ill-fated journey east nearly a decade ago.

  After five days they came to a wide marshland with a village in the middle of a man-made island. Kalie had seen such places before on her travels, and the sense of safety she felt once they had been ferried to the village was profound. No horse could make it through the sucking mud of the place. In fact, without local guides, death by quicksand was a frightening possibility.

  “This is the place where the survivors of Starfall went,” Kalie explained. “We’ll need to talk to them if we’re going to be part of any attack on the horde.”

  “This is the place I’d like to lure the beastmen,” said Erobia, her youthful features clouded with hate. “Let them drown here, or be helpless in the mud while we fill them full of arrows!”

  They received a friendly, but somewhat strained welcome. The village was filled to capacity with refugees, and food was being carefully rationed. But there were warriors here whom Kalie knew and messengers as well.

  “We’ll eat only the food we brought,” Kalie promised the leaders. “And we’ll be gone tomorrow. But we must speak with many people here.” She looked around at the tilting wooden houses, smelling musty in the perpetual damp, the hordes of insects kept away by the greasy paste the people here smeared over their bodies and the peat fires which gave more smoke than light or heat, and knew that one day would be enough. Otera and the others seemed to feel the same way.

  But the people here ate well, and despite the number of extra mouths, insisted the newest visitors have at least a little of the food they had prepared. The duck migration had been bountiful this year, and Kalie couldn’t resist a portion of crispy roast duck, and a few bites of tasty fish. She graciously turned down the skewers of frog and lizard meat, although Lanara was quite fond of the way the cooked snake here, and allowed herself a small, second portion, when pressed.

  After that it was all talk, which was no bad thing, for the first thing she learned was that Riyik was alive and well, and heading for Starfall.

  Then there was the delightful surprises of familiar faces, and news of old friends. When she went to speak with a group of wa
rrior discussing what they had learned from the marsh people about defenses, she found Malor, last seen back in Green Bower.

  “What are you doing all the way out here?” she cried, slipping into the language of the east.

  Malor answered perfectly in Kalie’s milk tongue. “The duty I swore to uphold when I left the steppes with you, Kalie. The protection of the people of this land. We’re trying to make certain the Wolves of Fools don’t get this far west.”

  “And Starfall?” she asked.

  One of Malor’s comrades answered. “Several bands are there now, testing their strength, and preventing them from leaving, but we have too few men, er, sorry, warriors, for a full frontal assault. What we need is to break them into small groups, and lure them to where we have the advantage.

  A woman who had glared at the former nomad’s use of the word “men” shook her head. “King Varlas is a brute and possibly a madman, but he’s not that stupid. Numbers are his biggest advantage.”

  “But only until they run out of food and grazing,” Kalie heard another say. Whatever he said after that was lost as she recognized the woman who had just spoken.

  “Saela?” she cried. “Is that you?”

  And the little slave girl, barely older than Varena grinned up at her. No longer a girl, and most definitely not a slave, she stood proud and tall, and comfortable in her leather armor, and with the long dagger she sharpened as the conversation continued.

  “What happened to you?” Kalie nearly squealed, pulling her outside where the heavy night vapors acted to dampen sound. “When I last saw you, you were so…”

  “Weak? Frightened? Clueless?” Saela laughed. “Yes, I was all those things. But not anymore.”

  “I thought you wanted to learn to weave and sew.”

  “I did. And then I realized that all the wonder my new life held would be snuffed out if someone didn’t stop Varlas and his horde. And then my new family told me I could study that instead of weaving, if I wanted.” Saela’s eyes were hard, but there was a reckless joy in their depths as well. “And I wanted.”

 

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