by Jackie Dana
“Aye. Sarnoc Vaj suggested it to me.” His response was more genial than a moment before. “It’s ironic that we’re here, because this one of the escape routes the Mosumi used in the time of the Sard conquests, when the Sarnoc’s ancestors tried to avoid persecution from my own.” His words were solemn. “In fact, I may be the first Sard to know of the cave’s existence. Kerthal has done us a great favor by concealing us here.”
The name of the goddess reminded her of the circumstances that brought them there in the first place. Aware that the light was fading, she asked, “how long do you think we have until it gets dark?”
He looked to the opening of the cave again. “Sunset is nearly upon us, and tonight the moon will be a late riser...” He let the words hang there suspended, without forming a complete thought. To finish his comment would be to revisit the point of the festival, and remind them that they would not be completing it. Shamed into silence, he shrugged the linen shirt from his back and began to wring out the water from his sleeves.
It occurred to her that she had not seen him without his shirt before. He had a good physique, but it was marred by a number of pale scars, some rather broad, that chipped away at the curves of his arms and chest. The dark whorls of hair at his breastbone were unable to hide one particularly wide, jagged scar across his torso that in the twilight gave his body the appearance of cracked pottery, inexpertly repaired. He had lived a very different life from hers, a life so different that it was almost impossible to imagine.
Unaware of her scrutiny, he worked to twist the fabric of his shirt as hard as he could, forcing out thin streams of water onto the stone floor. Then, without saying anything, he threw the shirt against the wall.
The sudden movement startled Kate. “What’s wrong?”
He fell back against the stones, leaning his head against the back wall and staring at the ceiling of the cave. “This is not right. Tonight is the night when Jorell’s and Kerthal’s combined power reaches its peak before fading at dawn, to be relinquished to Yoren and Cira. These are our gods, you understand? This is the night of Kerthal’s greatest power.” Without waiting for a response, he continued, “for eight years I have missed this night, wishing I could be home in Loraden, honoring the gods and enjoying the festivities with friends. Now that I’ve returned, everything is different, and instead of celebrating it properly, I’m hiding in a cave, avoiding arrest by my own brother’s troops.”
“That’s not what makes you angry, though, is it?”
“Nay, it is not.” He crossed his arms, and a frown grew on his face. “All I wanted to do—all I’ve ever wanted to do—was honor my gods and do good by my people, but at my first opportunity I used my people’s most sacred traditions for my own benefit. I was not chosen as caliaga because I was the most worthy, it was because I was the most needy.” He balled up his hand into a fist and punched his thigh. “It bothers me greatly to think that the Sarnoc used such a special, holy ritual to help me escape. After all I’ve done, they should have just let me die.” He let his head fall hard against the stone wall of the cave behind him. “Worst of all, Bhara,” he said, using the formal title even as he tipped his head back to her, “is that you must be here, to suffer needlessly on my account, when you could have been safe in Loraden enjoying the celebration yourself. It will be such a beautiful night, with the entire city participating, and you’re here with me instead.” He shook his head, and then stood up and grabbed his shirt. He twisted the linen once more, wringing it so tightly that the threads threatened to snap between his fists.
“It’s fine, Dosedra,” she replied in kind. “I agreed to come with you, so don’t worry on my account.” Watching him, it occurred to her that wringing out the water in her dress would be a very good idea. No longer concerned with modesty, she untied the lacing in front and then pulled her dress over her head, remaining in her damp, long-sleeved linen shift. With all of the wet woolen fabric, the gown was quite heavy, and she immediately felt better without its sodden weight against her skin. As tightly as she could, she twisted a handful of the skirt fabric to squeeze it dry, making a face as the wool burned her skin.
“Here, let me have that,” Arric mumbled as he reached out for her dress. While she had struggled with the extensive yardage, he had already slipped his shirt back on, and had wrung out his socks, which now dangled on a root nearby beside her stockings, which he had also hung up for her.
“No, I can manage...” she tried to argue, but then she saw his expression, a twist of pain camouflaged by rigid determination, and she allowed her gown to slip from her grasp. Then other words tumbled from her lips. “I missed you, you know.”
“Hmm?” He began to wring out her dress, throwing the bulk of it over his lap so it would not drag the ground as he twisted handfuls of water from the wool. Even this mundane task received his full effort.
“When they locked you in the tower. It wasn’t the same without you.” She folded her arms at her waist and rubbed them, trying to warm herself. “I tried to visit, but no matter how many times I asked, Rynar wouldn’t let me see you.”
He stopped his work for a moment, and looked at her. “While I appreciate the effort, that was foolish. It would have been safer to disassociate yourself from the matter as best you could. You should have just forgotten about me.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
He shook out her dress and then folded over a new section. “Well, I thank you for that, then. I doubt many others shared your sentiments.” He twisted the fabric until his knuckles were white from the effort. “When he arrested me, I didn’t care what Bedoric planned to do with me. But you and Nyvas? Ah, the Goddess knows how scared I was for you both. I was relieved, but not by much, when the Aldrish spoke up for you. Though now I think maybe you would have been safer in the dungeons.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” She thought back to her half-day in the darkness, and shivered, but didn’t want to tell him about that. “To be honest, it was strange being in the keep without you around. The dances I attended just weren’t the same,” she admitted truthfully, trying to lighten the subject, and now she was smiling.
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? I hear the Aldrish is quite a skilled dancer. Surely he kept you entertained?”
Why would he not drop that subject? Rather than respond, she shrugged, and feeling a dribble of blood, dabbed at her chin again.
Little light was left from the day, and as it departed it was replaced by a bone-chilling darkness, with a breeze that forced its way past the overhang to embrace them in its frosty grip. They had no blankets or dry clothes, no food or fire, and to warm herself, she pulled up her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.
As if in answer to her unspoken complaint, Arric said, “the Sarnoc expected the season’s first icewind tonight. Great timing, eh?” He stretched to hook the sleeves of her dress around a rock above his head, so it could hang to dry. “I fear this is too wet for you to wear tonight, but it should be somewhat drier by morning. Anyway, it is the best that I can do.”
Restless in the cold, she crawled to the side of the cave where the tunnel began. “It’s a little warmer here.” She huddled near the opening.
“Aye, the cave will not be so cold, though having said that, I’m not quite ready to go into the tunnel.” He sat down beside her, on the other side of the opening, his hands folded under his arms. “I know it will be difficult, but I think we should try to sleep, despite the cold.” With no further comment, he leaned his head against the stone wall and took several calming breaths, eventually closing his eyes.
Damn him, how does he make it seem so easy? She tried to make herself comfortable. She was exhausted, but between the frost-filled air and the stone walls and floors, which might as well have been carved from a block of ice, it would be impossible to sleep. Already she shivered, and as the night progressed it would get worse. The clammy dampness of her shift seemed to coax the cold air even closer. As she struggled to find a position slightly
warmer than another, her legs brushed against his. He did not flinch at her touch, instead rearranging his position slightly so he would not bump into her.
As she sat there in the cold, she considered the expectations that the Sarnoc had for both of them. The Jiona festival brought joy and celebration, as something everyone, even the poorest inhabitants of the city and villages, could share. Its significance was still not fully clear to her, but apparently Arric considered it a sacred time and regretted that he had used it in such a base manner. “I’m sorry about how things turned out tonight.” She spoke softly, almost hoping he was already asleep.
Arric did not open his eyes. “You must not be. For my part I regret that you continue to be dragged into my problems. Every time, you’ve been insulted, abused, or injured as a result. Kate, I should never have pulled you into the river.”
She felt her chin, now encrusted with dried blood. “You didn’t.” She wasn’t sure where she found the courage, but she had jumped at the last minute. “As far as the Jiona festival goes, though, I wish I could understand—”
“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
She could barely see his outline in the darkness. “What were the seeds in the basket for?”
“As part of the ceremony, the riliaga scatters the fruits of nature to give thanks to Kerthal for all life.”
“Oh.” How many people, over how many centuries, had come before them and had been able to successfully complete the entire ritual? “I’m sorry I lost them, then.”
“Like I said, don’t worry about it. The ceremony is over for us, anyway. Please, try to sleep. It will be a difficult journey in the morning.”
Silence again fell between them. She tried to fall asleep seated upright, but she couldn’t get comfortable. Frustrated that she could be so physically exhausted, yet not sleepy, she noted that Arric’s breathing had become deep and regular, meaning he had drifted off. Unable to do much else, she listened to him breathe, realizing just how thankful she was that he had escaped.
Maybe, with time, he could clear his name and return home. She couldn’t imagine him living as fhaoli for long.
A strong wind gusted through the cave, and she began to shiver anew. To fight the chill, she kicked her legs out in front of her, hoping to shake out the numbness.
Stirring at the sound, Arric asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m just really cold. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it. I wasn’t asleep anyway. I’ve been praying.”
His statement caught her off-guard. “Praying? All this time?”
“Aye. I have this feeling that the gods have protected me more often than I deserve, and I must ask their forgiveness for having failed them.”
“Failed them?” She sucked in a breath so hard she had to cough. “You mean, because of today?”
“Aye, perhaps in part, but only among other things.” Although in the darkness she couldn’t see anything, she heard him shift his weight.
She folded her legs against her body, and began to rub her arms in what she knew would be a futile attempt to warm them. “At least you didn’t try to force the issue. That should count for something.”
His voice seemed much farther away when he replied. “If you expected anything different, then you have the wrong idea about me. I promised you back in Bhoren that I would never again disrespect you in such a manner.” He sighed, and leaned his head against the wall. Softly, he asked, “what do you want from me, Kate?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ah, don’t you know? You torment me, my lady, acting as if you were one of my comrades—my male comrades—not as the woman that you are.” He sighed again. “You never defer to my position, and you always question what I do. When I’m with you, I scarcely know how to act. I constantly feel like I should do something different, but I never know what that should be.”
He wasn’t making any sense at all. “Why should you act any differently around me?”
“Kate, like it or not, you are different,” he said, his voice dropping in pitch, “though I’m glad that you are.” He hesitated, as if something had occurred to him in that moment. “Back in Loraden, you never betrayed me.” It was a question, but one without inflection, spoken as though he knew the answer.
She felt small, like a speck of dust. Her face burned, and her hands shook. “No.”
“Surely you knew that lying to the Vosira was a dangerous thing to do?”
It seemed like such a stupid question. “I’m your friend, Arric, and friends look out for one another.”
“Friends?” he repeated. “You and me? Hmm.” He considered this. “You’ve said that before. It’s odd to think of you that way, since I’ve never had female friends.” He leaned forward. “Is that why you came with me today, then? As a friend?”
“Of course. I wanted to help you.”
“Truly?” he chuckled, though he sounded a bit nervous as he did so. “You know how odd that sounds to me?”
“Why?”
“After everything you’ve endured in my company, I should expect you to run the other way where I’m involved.” He moved closer, and his touch startled her. “Hush. You’re shivering—I can hear it in your voice,” he explained, and placed his arm over her shoulder. “I cannot allow a friend of mine to freeze to death. You do not mind, do you?”
She welcomed his warmth and snuggled close to him. “I think I can live with it.” After struggling so long to find her personal independence, she was glad at that moment that someone was there to look after her.
As she folded an arm around his chest, he cleared his throat. “I have a request, if you don’t mind,” he said.
“Sure, what is it?”
“Would you tell me of your relationship with the Aldrish? It seems like something I should try to understand.”
This made her sit up. “What do you mean?” What was his obsession with Rynar? “I’ve already told you.”
“Shh, I did not intend to upset you,” he said, and pulled her close again. “Sitting here with you made me curious, that’s all. He is special to you, is he not?”
“Why do you keep asking me about him?”
“He is my brother’s chief advisor, and therefore as things stand, he’s my enemy. Regardless of Bedoric’s orders, by all accounts you have become very close to him, much more so than if he was simply a guardian. I do not wish to pry into your private affairs, but I would like to know where things stand.”
She stiffened. “So you don’t trust me?”
Arric sighed, but continued to hold her. “I trust you, Kate. It’s the Aldrish I cannot trust. He’s either in love, or he’s up to something. Or am I wrong?”
“It’s not like that...” How could she explain? “Everything got really complicated after you were arrested.” She swallowed hard.
Arric made a rough sound in his throat, one of either derision or anger. “You mean, spending the night with him made it complicated.”
She heard him inhale sharply, as if he was angry. “Nothing ever happened, Arric.”
“Hmm.”
“You’ve got to believe me. He slept on the floor every night. He never wanted more than that.”
“Really? I doubt that. The Aldrish is one of the most calculating, scheming bastards I have ever met.” Now she was glad she couldn’t see his face. “This is all part of some grand plan, although I cannot guess its nature. I just hope he will not tire of you before he gets what he wants.”
As he said that, she fought to retain her composure. With quivering lips and stinging eyes, she pulled away from him. He really didn’t understand that Rynar meant nothing to her—that he had begun to frighten her—and that she was as confused as Arric was about his intentions where she was concerned.
Rather than allow her to escape, he crawled after her, until he brushed against her shoulder, and then he knelt beside her. “I’m sorry. I had no right to say those things.”
&nbs
p; She did not answer, and a shiver ran through her, but she dismissed it, blaming it on the cold.
“Kate, I will not hide my dislike for the Aldrish—no more than he hides his for me—but I will not let that affect the way I feel about you.” He reached again for her shoulder and rested his palm on it. “You say we are friends, but I must admit, I have given little thought to your feelings or your needs since I met you. In fact, I have been so absorbed with my own problems that I’ve thought of little else. For that, I must apologize.”
“It’s all right. You had more important things to worry about.”
“Nay, nothing was ever so important that I could not give a moment to listen, or to help.” He made a little noise in his throat. “Perhaps that is the difference between the Aldrish and me. I think perhaps he did listen.” He traced the line of her arm up to her neck, and then, careful not to rub her injury, down her chin. “I hope you will accept my apology, though.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, his lips surely tasting the tears that had secretly fallen moments before.
His lips stung where they touched her skin, and she felt her face flush. “Are you trying to seduce me?” Uncertainty and nerves, rather than malice, had prompted the comment, which she had spoken without thinking.
To Arric, however, her words had the effect of a slap, and he fell against the wall of the cave with an explosive sigh, as if she had punched him. “Nay,” he said, hurt by the accusation. “I had no such intentions.”
They sat that way, without further conversation, for a long time. She could hear his breathing, but she did not speak. With what had just occurred, she was so distracted that she didn’t feel the cold. Unlike Arric, she was not religious, and had no use for prayer. So she stared into the black night, wrestling with her emotions. Never had she needed clarity in her life more than now, but instead everything was hopelessly muddied. Then, another sigh from him. He was angry now, she decided. Her lapse in judgment had ruined her one chance to reach a common understanding, and maybe something more. As she had discovered, he didn’t easily admit weakness, but he had nevertheless started to open up to her, and even more remarkably, to accept her, but she dismissed his efforts with a stupid comment that she hadn’t really meant the way it came out.