by Davis Ashura
Shun those who bring dishonor to their Amma or their Nanna. Such scoundrels should be stoned.
-To Live Well by Fair Shire of Stronghold, AF 1842
Jessira focused on her tasks, doing her best to ignore Rukh’s silent, uncomfortable scrutiny. She ducked to the other side of her horse to put distance between the two of them. It was the fragging kiss. That’s why he was staring at her. Her shoulders twitched involuntarily under his gaze. She didn’t want to talk about it. In fact, she wished she could just forget that it had ever happened.
It had been a mistake, but at the time, it had felt so right. First Mother! She hid a shudder, trying to ignore how much she had enjoyed it.
She couldn’t act on her feelings, though. Not now. Not ever. Jessira had promised herself to Disbar Merdant, and she wouldn’t disgrace herself or her family’s good name and standing by failing in what she had vowed; not for something as selfish and ephemeral as a kiss or whatever the kiss might have led to. Jessira liked Rukh Shektan, but what they had was fleeting, something forged during a time of common loneliness and struggle. It wasn’t the foundation upon which two people could form a long-lasting relationship. Not that she wanted such a thing. At least not with Rukh. She was to marry Disbar Merdant, after all.
“Are we going to talk about it?” Rukh asked.
Jessira’s shoulders tensed, and she kept her back to him, pretending to be busy as she unsaddled her horse. “About what?” she asked. She immediately winced at her cowardly response. Rukh deserved the truth, not some half-ass measure where she pretended not to know what he was talking about.
Jessira heard his saddle drop to the ground, and she flicked a glance at him, but now his back was to her as he brushed down his horse.
“I see.” His response was simple and direct.
She frowned, mentally cursing her momentary weakness. The stupid kiss. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m promised to someone else. What we did — it won’t happen again.”
“You think the kiss was a mistake?” Rukh asked, turning to look at her.
He wore a bland expression, betraying none of the upset or disappointment she might have expected. Jessira was filled with the sudden hope that maybe the two of them could put this entire incident behind them with no lingering hurt feelings on either of their parts. It would be for the best. Not to mention it would let her off the hook for what had been a colossal blunder.
Jessira nodded. “It was definitely a mistake.”
Rukh seemed to consider her words. “It was a good kiss, though, wasn’t it?” he asked with a winsome grin. “I don’t think I’ll be regretting it too much.”
Jessira’s nascent hope melted away. Wariness took its place. She had believed — however briefly — that Rukh hadn’t read too much into their kiss. But what was he saying now? What did he mean by not regretting it? She most certainly did. And, Rukh couldn’t think she would allow it to happen again.
“Rukh, listen … ” she began.
He held up a forestalling hand. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me how it will never happen again. That it should have never happened in the first place. How it only happened because we both got caught up in our emotions.”
She nodded, no longer surprised at how he easily he understood what she was thinking without her having to say it. Back in Stronghold, other than Lure, no one else could pick up on her thoughts and moods so easily. She sometimes wondered how Rukh did what he did, but now wasn’t the time for such musings. She needed to take care of this issue between them — the kiss — or it would fester, ruining their relationship.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rukh continued. “You’re right. It was a mistake. When a woman makes a vow … ” he shrugged. “Kummas take such promises seriously. We don’t poach another man’s territory.”
Jessira exhaled in relief as the tension building in her over the past few hours spilled out in a rush. It left her light-headed. “I’m glad we both feel the same way,” she said with a nervous half-smile.
“Me, too,” Rukh said. “Let’s set up camp.”
“Who gets first watch?” she asked.
Rukh eyed her with such a hopeful expression that Jessira had to laugh. “I’ll take it,” she said.
They pitched their bedrolls and while Rukh fed and watered the horses, Jessira made a small fire and heated up a warm meal of smoked beef in a potato stew. The rest of the evening passed quietly, but Jessira couldn’t relax. Despite their agreement to forget about the kiss, there remained a stiffness between them, a formality that didn’t allow for easy conversation or laughter.
Rukh turned in early, looking worn out. There was wanness to him, a tiredness of his soul. It was so different from how she was used to seeing Rukh, but it was also to be expected. If even half of the rumors about what he had been through during his time away from Ashoka with the expedition were true, he should have fallen over from exhaustion long ago. And then, just this morning — had it only been this morning?--he had to deal with the shock of being found Unworthy. She wondered how he was able to keep going with such a heavy heart. If the circumstances were reversed, she’d be a puddle of sobbing sorrow.
The night waxed long, and the fire burned down to coals. A restless flame ignited now and then setting the wood to crackling. Jessira shivered as a cool wind blew down from the Privation Mountains, carrying a promise of snow. Down here in the lower elevations, the promised snow would probably melt into a dismal, autumn shower. A particularly blustery gust of wind blew dust and debris across the camp. It lit the coals to brightness and flame, sending sparks flying into the darkness beyond the firelight. Jessira shivered again and clutched her cloak more tightly.
She must have grown soft in Ashoka’s comfort and warmth.
Hours later, Jessira stood when she felt herself nodding off. She should have awoken Rukh by now, but she didn’t have the heart for it. Let him rest a while longer. She stamped her feet to get some circulation back into them and paced around the campsite, making sure to maintain her Blend, the thin membrane keeping the two of them hidden from Suwraith.
To keep her mind busy, Jessira stared out into the night’s darkness. A crescent moon provided a sliver of light, barely giving shape to the treed hills surrounding them on all sides. She and Rukh had chosen to make camp amongst a half-circle of tumbled, gray boulders nestled along the shores of a pencil thin lake. Most of the rocks stood higher than Jessira could reach and were jagged and sharp, like they were the chipped fangs of some monstrous beast. They seemed to warn the trees back from the small open space they encompassed.
Jessira stepped closer to the water’s edge, past the muted light offered by the campfire. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness.
Cattails and reedy grass swayed in the breeze as the moon’s ivory light sparkled against the water’s ripples. A few lonely cicadas droned into the night. Their sound rose and fell, melding with the croaking of bullfrogs hiding in the rushes. Itinerant clouds scudded across the face of the moon, and the smell of moss growing on the boulders mingled with that of wild lilac, somehow still blooming this late in the season.
Jessira stared out over the lake, all the way to the far shore, but the light was too weak to allow her to make out any details. Perhaps Rukh could have seen something. His senses were more acute than hers.
Her thoughts on him, she drifted back toward the campsite, making sure to avoid looking straight at the fire so as to preserve her night vision. Jessira sat near Rukh and faced out into the night. She heard him shift in his slumber, rolling over so he was now facing her. She glanced down at him and a half-smile slipped over her face. At least the fatigue and pain he’d worn so openly throughout the day was smoothed away by the peace of sleep. She studied his features more closely, and her smile changed into a slight frown. There was a small scar above his right eyebrow. She’d never seen it before, and she wondered if it was new. Possibly from the battle in the caverns? And was that a strand of white hair hidden amongst the b
lack ones? She leaned closer and realized it was more than just one. It was a whole village of them, growing haphazardly along both his temples. But Rukh’s hair had been coal black when he’d left Ashoka for the caverns a few months back. She was certain of it. The scar, the white hairs, the emotional wounds — Rukh had been visibly marked by his time in the expedition, and now, he would never have a chance to regain his honor. It had been forever denied to him. While he had been risking his life in the Wildness, the Chamber of Lords had deemed him Unworthy. He’d never again see his family, his loved ones, or his beloved city.
And it was all her fault.
Jessira stared out into the trees, peering through the gaps between the boulders. She hoped Rukh could find it in his heart to forgive her. Earlier in the day, he had said he didn’t blame her for what had happened, and she was grateful to hear it, but she also had trouble believing him. After all, Jessira had yet to forgive herself.
She glanced back at Rukh, running her eyes along the ridge of his brow, the curve of his nose, and the firm line of his jaw. She paused when she reached the smooth softness of his full lips. She found her own lips slightly parted and dry as she unconsciously reached for him.
With a start, she recovered her self-awareness and withdrew her hand. What had she been thinking? She swallowed heavily and quickly stood, pacing away from the small circle of firelight and toward the boulders. She wanted … she needed distance between herself and Rukh. She knew what had been in her thoughts. She had meant to run her fingers gently through Rukh’s hair, cup his face, just touch him.
Jessira paused when she reached the ring of boulders and leaned against one of them. She breathed as if she had sprinted straight up the eastern face of Mount Frame. This was how she acted after their earlier conversation? Jessira silently berated herself. She couldn’t give Rukh such mixed signals. She couldn’t let her heart trick her into thinking there was something present when there wasn’t. She had to be strong. There was a deep bond of friendship between her and Rukh, but that was it. Nothing more. There couldn’t be.
And besides, she’d been selfish enough already.
*****
Rukh and Jessira made their way along the rugged banks of a high, mountain stream. The water ran cold and clear through a narrow ravine with a scattering of thin, skeletal trees and bushes clutching hard to the sheer sides of the gully. Slabs of granite had broken off the ravine’s walls, crumbling into boulders and rocks of various sizes. It made footing treacherous, and the two of them had to walk their horses alongside the stream bed. The risk was too great for a turned ankle if they tried riding their mounts.
They followed the water to where it carved a deep runnel into a thick, stone ledge before falling down a series of rocky prominences and cliffs, ending as a mist on the valley floor several hundred feet below.
Rukh stood on the edge of the shelf, staring out over the expansive view. Green hills marched off into the distance, merging at the edge of his vision with the perpetually snow-covered peaks of the Privations.
Right now, he would gladly trade the coolness of the mountains for the unseasonably warm weather he and Jessira were enduring. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the afternoon sun blazed down. The light cut through a layer of low clouds as beams of pale, yellow light, dappling the forested valley below in hues of gold, a portent of autumn’s glory. Although most of the trees had yet to change color, soon enough they would. Rukh and Jessira would have to move quickly if they wanted to make it to Stronghold before the snows made the mountain passes impassable.
“Do you see a way down?” Jessira asked. She absently wiped the sweat from her brow.
Rukh took a pull of water and passed her the canteen. “No,” he answered. “But let’s take a rest before we decide on anything.”
“We need to be down this cliff by nightfall,” Jessira said.
Rukh nodded in reply and led the way back upstream, allowing the horses to drink. He squatted to refill his canteens, his thoughts growing distant as he recalled the events of the past week.
For a single night, during the return from the Chimera breeding caverns, Rukh had actually believed he could go home with his dignity intact. His fellow warriors, his brothers, had come to see his new Talents for the gifts that they were. If they could do so, then why not the rest of Ashoka?
Maybe it might have even worked out that way, but his own foolishness had killed those chances. The Chamber of Lords could have overlooked Rukh’s new Talents, but they couldn’t overlook the rumor of an illicit relationship between Rukh and Jessira, especially when there was so much proof of it. It had all been because of a late-night walk the two of them had shared in Dryad Park. How could Rukh have been so damned stupid? The Chamber had been forced to act. They had declared Rukh Unworthy.
The shame of such a judgment still stung like a harsh slap to the face. Worse was the empty, lonely ache of all that had been ripped from him — all the people he loved, his future. He tried not to dwell on his loss, but on some nights, the pain would overcome him. Then tears of sorrow would trickle down his face. He only allowed such weakness when he was alone at night. Never during the day when Jessira might see.
He didn’t need her sympathy or her pity. It would be too humiliating.
Besides, his feelings for Jessira were already jumbled up enough as it was. He knew she blamed herself for what had happened to him, and maybe some might even believe there was some truth to that. But Rukh didn’t think so. No matter how much she might be wracked with guilt over what had happened to him, Rukh’s predicament was of his own making. He was the author of his fate, and it had been his decisions, his blindness, that had led to his exile. His choice to make public his friendship for Jessira — a ghrina — that had led to his family’s suffering. How disappointed they must be in him.
Still, despite his mixed emotions when it came to Jessira, sometimes he wondered how much easier his life might have been if she had never come into it.
But then there were other instances, such as the all-to-brief kiss they had shared, when he thanked Devesh she was still with him. When he was glad that such a woman walked beside him. Times such as now.
Jessira held still. Her heart-shaped face was frozen in concentration as she filled her canteens. Her honey-brown hair fell loosely about her face, framing her fine Cherid features, and her red-gold skin seemed to glow under the sun. If she glanced over, Rukh knew he would be trapped in the glory of her emerald eyes, unable to look away.
His breath caught when Jessira stood and walked back to the edge of the bluff. She was lovely in repose but so beautiful in movement, graceful as a leaf on the wind.
“I think I see a path, a goat trail maybe, not too far away,” Jessira said, and the moment was broken.
Rukh walked to where she stood. A stray breeze blew, playing with Jessira’s hair, swirling it about, and carrying her subtle cinnamon scent. It was something Rukh had first noticed during their earlier time in the Wildness. Wisping about her was a scarce detectable undercurrent of cinnamon. He stifled his discomfort when she shifted closer so he could more easily follow the line of her pointing finger.
“Do you see it?” Jessira asked.
Rukh nodded, noting the trail she was indicating. They should be able to reach it in an hour or so and with luck, get down to the valley floor by the time it grew dark. “If we back track a bit, we should be able to pick it up somewhere east of here,” he said.
His optimistic assessment proved wrong. The hike to the goat track turned out to be a much longer slog then either one of them had initially reckoned. Over and over again, they had to stop and figure out where they were, but eventually they found the trail, a wild animal path, that thankfully, proved easy enough to follow. Though it was only wide enough for one horse single file, they were able to make a swift descent, regaining some of their lost time.
They pushed on well past sunset, into the dark, determined to reach the valley floor. Rukh led the way, lighting the path with a muted, red-hued
firefly lantern. Several hours later, the track finally bottomed out.
They stopped for the night in an area of new growth, where an oak, a giant of the forest, had fallen. Its collapse had left a large opening in the canopy up above and a small clearing on the forest floor down below.
After making camp, they sat across the fire from one another and ate their suppers in silence.
It was the way things were between them now: stiff and formal. It was uncomfortable, and Rukh didn’t like it. He missed their easy camaraderie. They used to get along pretty well, even if they might have argued a lot. Rukh knew the reason for the change. It was the kiss. And Jessira’s ongoing guilt for whatever role she might have played in his expulsion from Ashoka. With so much hanging between them, maybe they no longer knew who they were to one another. Were they just traveling companions? Friends? Or something else entirely? Their confusion had them walking on eggshells around one another, and Rukh was tired of it. It couldn’t go on; not when they had another seven or eight weeks of travel ahead of them.
“I don’t blame you for what happened to me,” Rukh said, breaking the silence.
Jessira didn’t respond at first. Instead, she seemed to study him. “Are you sure?” she finally asked. “I would if I was in your shoes.”
Rukh considered how best to answer her question. The crackling of the fire and friendly chirps of crickets were the only sounds to be heard. “I don’t blame you,” he told her again. He quirked a smile. “It would be easy to do so, but it’s not the truth.”
“Then what is the truth?” Jessira asked.
Rukh sighed. “I made my own choices, and I chose not to see the danger gathering around me. I should have remained silent about my Talents. I should have entrusted the knowledge of what I can do to no one else but my parents, my brother, and my sister. I spoke without thinking before Rector Bryce. It was the first of a series of mistakes.”
“But your final error was allowing yourself to be seen in public with a ghrina,” Jessira said. She stared him in the eye. “You wouldn’t have done so, except that I was feeling lonely and shamed you into it.”