Shadow of the Horsemen (Kalie's Journey)

by Sandra Saidak

  “If only they could keep fighting until all were dead!” At Riyik’s expression, Kalie dampened her enthusiasm. “Er, sorry. It’s just that, with a system like that, there’s no way to influence the outcome.”

  “That’s why we use it. When someone can influence the outcome, we get men like Haraak.”

  Kalie shook her head. “I’m sorry, Riyik. I just don’t see any way we can work together on this. We both have duties to our own people. Yours may demand that you kill Haraak to avenge your king, even that you kill Kariik for the common good, but after that, you must continue to raid and fight—and kill your tribe’s enemies. Even if that enemy is the woman you want to marry.”

  Riyik took her hand and squeezed it, stopping just when it became painful. He looked into her eyes. “A warrior risks death for his people, but rarely more than that. You have come unarmed into the camp of your enemy and endured degradation, hunger and abuse on the nearly impossible chance that you can single handedly save your people. You are a nobler warrior than any I have ever heard of. I will never kill you Kalie, but I swear that I long as live, I will kill anyone who tries to.”

  “Riyik, please, don’t make such a promise!”

  The hardness was gone from his eyes. “It’s too late,” he said mildly. “I have sworn an oath, and unlike other men here, for me it is binding.”

  “But what can I promise you that will not violate my oath to save my people?”

  Riyik thought hard. At last he said, “Promise that when the threat my people pose to yours has been destroyed, you will take Yarik, and as many of my tribe who prove worthy—whether they be men or women—back to your home, to live by your ways.”

  Kalie’s breath caught in her throat. She knew it was no accident that Riyik had not included himself in this new future. “How will I know who is worthy? Only you can judge that, Riyik. And to do that, you must live.”

  “I would like to Kalie. I would like to build a life with you. I would like to see what kind of place we could create blending the best of both our worlds.”

  “You just swore to protect me! You can’t do that if you’re dead!”

  “Then we must pray for a miracle. But in my world, a man who slays his brothers has no future. And a man who slays his king must die.”

  “Even if he is a false king who deserves to die?”

  “That doesn’t matter—“

  “Maybe not in your world, but in my world it does. And you told me yourself you want to live there! So do what you must here and come with me!” The voice Kalie was learning to hate was back, telling her to stop arguing and accept Riyik’s sacrifice. Everything she had worked for was finally going to happen!

  All she had to do, the voice told her, was let Riyik die for her.

  Kalie struck at that voice so hard it hurt.

  When she could see again, Kalie realized she had the answer.

  “There is a story I heard once during the winter,” she said. “About a warrior, who, on the eve of battle came across a man of his own tribe in a secret meeting with an enemy warrior—“

  Riyik nodded. “The Tale of Amon. Yes. He caught a traitor showing the enemy where they might set up an ambush, and thus win the day. All to win the daughter of the enemy king.”

  “Yes, there’s always a woman involved. But when Amon slew them both, who did he discover the traitor to be?”

  “His own brother. And when the battle began, he flew into a frenzy and sought his own death at the hands of the enemy, for not only had he slain his own brother, he now knew that the blood of a traitor flowed through his own veins as well. And since their father was dead, and neither had any sons, their tainted line would be ended once and for all.”

  “But the gods intervened, and kept him from dying. And when the battle was won, Amon emerged as the greatest hero of all. And when the men sang his name, and the king offered him riches, he chose instead to leave, vowing to return whenever his people were in peril.”

  Riyik’s dark gaze pieced Kalie’s. “And is that how you see me?”

  She smiled. “Perhaps. I think you should at least consider that following your conscience doesn’t have to lead to your death.”

  “Did you come here expecting to return alive, Kalie?”

  She tried to look away so she could lie, but Riyik would not let her. “No,” she said at last.

  “Do you see me as having less honor than you yourself possess?”

  “No,” she said, more certain of herself this time. “But now I find I very much want to live. So let us devise a plan in which honor is served, villains are punished, good people are saved, and a future exists for you and I.”

  The beginnings of a smile pulled at Riyik’s mouth. “You know you’re insane, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Quite against her will, an answering smile was playing on Kalie’s. Suddenly serious, she asked Riyik for his dagger. He gave it to her without a word. “Blood is sacred to both our peoples, although we use it differently.” She drew the blade across the palm of her hand, staring at the blood that welled up as if it belonged to someone else. Then she felt the sting, and knew it was really herself doing this. “So let us make a pact as warriors do.”

  Riyik nodded and took the knife, mirroring Kalie’s gesture in his own flesh. He placed his bleeding palm against hers, an act she knew he had performed before, though never with a woman.

  “We are one,” Riyik said solemnly. “In life and death; in all we do, we are one.”

  If Riyik found it strange that he was swearing a sacred oath between brothers with the woman he intended to marry, he gave no sign of it.

  And if Kalie found it strange to swear an oath in the manner of the people she had come to destroy, or bind her life and soul with a man she loved but had no intention of sleeping with, she was equally silent.

  They rode back to camp lost in thought.

  Chapter 20

  Maalke was waiting in the tent when they returned.

  Brenia was calmly applying a compress to his head where Kalie had struck him, and trying to coax him into drinking willow bark tea, while Maalke grumbled and demanded kumis. Varena hid in the shadows.

  “Greetings, Maalke,” Riyik said, sliding onto a cushion opposite his guest. Brenia brought him tea and the tally of animals he had been studying earlier.

  Maalke’s gaze slid from Riyik to Kalie, who had gone to help Brenia prepare the evening meal. “A bit presumptuous, isn’t it?” he said. “Enjoying my slaves before we’ve reached an agreement? I don’t even remember that we discussed it!”

  “You were perhaps too deeply inside the kumis skin for any kind of fair bargain,” Riyik said calmly. “Perhaps now is a better time?”

  Maalke grunted. “I believe you offered twenty horses for the both of them.”

  “I believe I offered ten. It was you who said twenty, which I can well understand. Both are the kind of women men lose their heads over. Shall we agree on fifteen?”

  Maalke hid his pleasure by gulping down his tea. Then, he shouted as if offended, “My daughter alone is worth fifteen!”

  Kalie gagged so loudly that Brenia clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. By the time Kalie was done imagining Maalke staked to the ground by his balls, the haggling was finished and she and Varena both belonged to Riyik.

  “I will go to his tent to collect your things tomorrow,” Riyik told Kalie and Varena as they gazed outside the open tent flap, watching the deepening twilight.

  “There’s little enough there that’s ours,” said Kalie. “But I would like to continue treating Cassia during her pregnancy. Will that be allowed?”

  Riyik smiled at her. There was no trace of ownership in it. “Tomorrow you will be the wife of a warrior. Of course you may call on a fellow wife.” He smiled at Varena as well. “And you,” he said, lifting a small wooden chest from among his bundles of belongings. “You will have this for your dowry.” Riyik lifted the carved lid and revealed pieces of gold and silver jewelry. “You can tell everyone it
came down the family from your mother’s side.”

  Varena gasped. In that small box was enough wealth to win her a chief’s son for a husband. The box alone was probably worth more than what Maalke had paid for her birth mother. With a future like that, Kalie thought sadly, Varena might well decide to remain with the tribe, rather than going with her to live among strangers.

  “May I see?” she asked. Varena pushed the box to her, and Kalie looked in, seeing her past reflected in the lustrous metal.

  “My share of the spoils from the west,” Riyik said, not meeting her eyes. “I never did know what to do with it. Maybe now, it can serve a higher purpose than the one that brought it here.”

  Kalie hadn’t been in Riverford very long, but she thought she recognized some of the work. Varena could not take her eyes off of the treasure. “May I wear some of it now?” she asked Riyik.

  He hesitated. “Inside this tent, yes. Outside, only at festivals, and only when you are with Kalie or me.” Riyik grimaced. “I’ve never had to worry about a daughter, and now, suddenly, I have a grown one!”

  “Oh, thank you so much, mas…father!” Varena grabbed Riyik’s hands and kissed them, then bowed and placed them on her forehead.

  Kalie smiled at him. “You’ve made her very happy,” she said as Varena arranged the bedding for the night. “And…me as well.” She took both his hands in hers, and while she wanted to do more, found she could not.

  “My pleasure,” said Riyik. He kissed her hands, and then released them.

  That night, Brenia and her son returned to Hysaak’s tent, as custom demanded, now that her brother had taken a wife. Kalie wished she could have stayed. She slept beside Varena and Yarik on one side of the tent, Riyik on the other. Varena seemed upset by the arrangement, but said nothing. I’ll have to find a quiet moment to explain things to her, Kalie thought as she drifted off. Soon.

  Kariik’s announcement that the tribe would, at last, be leaving the next day for the second and final gathering of the summer was greeted with enthusiasm from most of the camp. Riyik, however, was angry.

  “I wanted to give you a wedding fit for a king’s daughter!” he told Kalie. “Now we will have to throw together something for tonight! And everyone’s mind will be on an early departure for tomorrow!”

  “Could we not wait and be married at the new gathering site?” Kalie asked. “Many others will be married then.”

  Riyik shook his head. “If we are not married, you will be seen, at best, as my concubine. Varena’s status as my daughter can’t be established either without a marriage. It’s best for both of you if we do it now.” He went to fetch Brenia, to show Kalie where his sheep were, and told them to slaughter four of them for the feast.

  After that, everything was chaos, as people began preparing to break camp, and Brenia called into service anyone she could to prepare the wedding. Kalie was whisked away to the tent of some woman she didn’t know, but which stank worse than Maalke’s, and bathed with the now familiar paste of cypress, cedar and frankincense. Her hair was then combed with sheep’s fat. Brenia donated a heavy black veil sown with tiny jet beads. Kalie would apparently be wearing her old clothes, which would not matter, she was told, since the veil went nearly to her feet, and was completely opaque.

  “How am I to see where I’m going?” she demanded when the women had her arranged to their satisfaction.

  “You won’t need to,” one of them called over a chorus of raucous laughter. “We will lead you to the place you must wait for your groom.”

  “The rest is up to him!” said another, provoking more laughter.

  What followed was a round of crude advice for the wedding night, followed by horror stories of first time sexual experiences that these women seemed to find funny. Kalie’s status seemed to have magically been raised to that of a virgin bride, despite the fact that everyone present knew she had been Maalke’s slave for the past year.

  When Kalie asked if Varena might be allowed to keep her company, she was told that only married women could be in the tent with her. She thought about asking for Cassia, but her ignorance of their customs made it too awkward. Would it be improper for a slave to request the company of her former mistress at a time like this? Or was it expected? .

  So she asked for Larren instead, expecting to be refused on the grounds that Larren wasn’t a wife. To Kalie’s surprise, however, her captors agreed.

  “She’ll be a wife soon enough,” said the one who seemed to be in charge.

  “Only if she births a son,” argued another.

  “She will,” said the third in a haughty voice. “I can tell these things.”

  “Then she’ll be as much a wife as their kind can ever be,” said the first.

  But they seemed to be as happy to leave Kalie as she was to have them gone, and as Larren’s presence would maintain a minimum of propriety, they brought her.

  As soon as the horsewomen departed, Kalie removed the stifling veil—carefully, as it belonged to Brenia—but determined to see her old friend. The younger woman seemed hesitant, seating herself carefully around her swollen midsection.

  “I’ll bet you miss furniture more than almost anything,” Kalie said.

  Larren looked as though the thought had never occurred to her. “When I think of my old life, it’s the food I miss the most. That, and not being afraid all the time.”

  Kalie regretted her first attempt at conversation. “I’d offer you something to eat, but as you can see, I haven’t got any. I guess fasting is part of the ritual.” When Larren said nothing, Kalie tried again. “I hear you’ll be a wife soon, too, if your baby’s a boy.”

  Larren nodded dully. “Itaak has promised it. And, Zolia, his first wife, hasn’t tried to make me lose it. Of course, she could just be waiting until it’s born.”

  “Would she really harm a living child? From what I’ve seen, they fear their husband’s wrath too much for that.”

  Larren shrugged. “At least you’ll never have to worry about it! Yet I heard you’ve adopted one of their slave girls.”

  Kalie nodded. “Her name’s Varena. She’s wonderful. She’s helping me reach the women of this world.”

  Some of Laren’s anger fell away, leaving curiosity in its place. “You seemed to be doing a fine job already. What could one of their bastard slave girls do?”

  “Basically, she told me that I can win more of them over with honey than with vinegar,” Kalie said, using one of their own people’s sayings.

  Larren nearly smiled at that. “That must be hard for you, considering how most of them treat us.”

  “But that’s just it, Larren!” Kalie said with excitement. “Not all of women here are monsters like I first thought. Even you’ve seen that! I saw how you were with Mavra. And she’s not the only one. There are women who’ve helped me; shown me kindness. Some, I hope will even come with us when we go home!”

  Larren met Kalie’s gaze, letting her veil fall away. The pain and despair that ravaged her once beautiful face made Kalie look away. “Do you really believe that’s going to happen? Tell me, Kalie, I need to know!”

  “Tell you what? That we’re going home? I hang on to the dream of it. If I didn’t I’d end up—“

  “Like me?”

  “I wasn’t going to say that!”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s true. I’ve given up. And in doing so, I’ve damned us all.” Only when Larren said “damned”, a word from the beastmen’s language, did Kalie realize they had been speaking in their mother tongue.

  “You don’t have the power to damn us all,” said Kalie. “And it’s not over yet.”

  “It is for me!” Larren began to cry. “Kalie, please! Get us out of here! When I thought I was the only one left, it didn’t matter what I did, so I prayed for a son, just like a cursed beastwoman! But now…Now that I know you’re alive, and still fighting…” Larren looked up, and eerie calm taking her. “Zolia is no threat to my baby—but I am. I won’t allow a child of mine to grow up in a pl
ace like this! If I can’t get out of here before it’s born—“

  “How long have you got?” Kalie asked, grabbing both of Larren’s hands in her own and holding on tight.

  “Three moonspans.”

  “Then we’ll leave before then, I promise.” Larren collapsed, sobbing, against Kalie, who held her, whispering soothing words that neither of them heard. It was just another promise, she told herself. One of many she might not be able to keep. But she would try. The woman she had been two years ago couldn’t have dreamed of even that much.

  The women returned at sunset, furious at Kalie for removing her veil. When it was once again in place, Kalie was led from the stifling tent to the hot, but breathable, air outside. She could see nothing through the veil, and had to depend on the chattering women who surrounded her to reach the ceremonial site.

  As soon as they stopped, the women began singing. It was a long song, about the joys of marriage and the happy bride awaiting her groom. Kalie could hear, but not see, the crowd who joined in for the chorus, clapping their hands at intervals.

  She couldn’t tell how many people were attending the wedding, but it sounded like most of the camp. Finally, there was the thunderous sound of hooves, and the women surrounding her scattered, shrieking in mock terror at the bride’s impending abduction. At least she hoped it was mock.

  The noise grew louder, and she could smell the horses. Then a hand grabbed her and pulled her neatly up onto the horse.

  Kalie hoped it was Riyik.

  Other riders followed as they rode onto the steppes, slowly falling behind, and eventually “losing” their quarry, and the now married couple continued on alone.

  Finally they stopped. Riyik helped Kalie slide from Thunder’s back, and carefully removed her veil. She saw he had brought them to the hillside where they had made their pact the day before. The deepening twilight and cool breezes made the place even more inviting now.

  “So that was an Aahken wedding?” Kalie asked. She had seen a few, but had paid little attention.