A Warrior's Knowledge

Home > Other > A Warrior's Knowledge > Page 31
A Warrior's Knowledge Page 31

by Davis Ashura


  “Child, you have served Me well, though you are young to your post,” Mother said. “And by now, I am sure you have become aware of the events to the east, and Our betrayal at the hands of the Baels there.”

  Was She asking a question? Shard wasn’t sure, but it sounded like one. “Yes, Mother,” he said. “Li-Dirge was trusted by all. It is shocking and shameful that he would lead so many to treason.”

  “The matter is dealt with,” Mother replied. “And I am sure you wonder whether I now believe that all My Baels are as poisonous as the traitor, Li-Dirge.”

  “We are faithful to Your will,” Shard said in his most fervent tone, praying the Queen couldn’t sense his lie.

  “I have never doubted it,” Mother replied. “It is why I want you to assume command of the Eastern Plague.”

  “Take command of the east?”

  “Yes. The Eastern Plague is falling apart. The Tigons are unable to instill the proper discipline.”

  Shard did his best to hide his shock. Mother had deigned to explain Her reasonings. It was something She had never done before. Typically, She simply gave Her orders and left it to the Baels to carry them out. Even more worrisome was how the Queen spoke. She sounded entirely reasonable and rational.

  Li-Shard would have to tread carefully. “How shall I do Your bidding, Mother?” he asked.

  Mother chuckled. “It is for you to decide,” She said. “Take as many Baels as you think might be needed. Only set the Eastern Plague back to rights.”

  “It will be difficult to bring the Eastern Plague back to full readiness,” Shard said. “With all the casualties and possibly even desertions they’ve had and the loss of the breeding caverns, how will I rebuild their numbers?”

  “Leave the caverns to Me,” the Queen said. “Only bring back discipline and order to the east. Stop the bleeding. That is your only task.”

  “By Your command,” Li-Shard intoned. Once again, he led the other three Baels in the Prayer of Gratitude as Mother swiftly departed.

  Once She was gone, Li-Shard shuddered with suppressed fear before turning to Li-Brind. “In all your time as SarpanKi, have you ever heard Her sound like that?”

  Brind shook his head. “Never. It seems the rumors of a sane Mother are true,” he said. “Devesh help us all.” The older Bael looked troubled, almost frightened, a fact worrisome enough to cause the fine hairs on Shard’s neck to stand on end.

  “That might be about the most horrific news I’ve ever had,” Li-Chig muttered.

  “Yes, it is,” Li-Shard replied. “But it also seems likely that you or Sturg will be the next SarpanKum of the Western Plague.”

  “I only wish it didn’t come about through such terrifying means,” Li-Chig said.

  Chapter 20: Accepting Flaws

  Take life’s blows and refuse to quit. It is the mark of true warrior and a true man.

  -Kumma aphorism, attribution unknown

  Jessira took a final swig of water before re-stoppering her canteen. She and Rukh had stopped for an early lunch when they had come across a fallow wildflower field next to a clear running stream. The water was likely winding its way to River Mastery and from there, on to Hammer Bay. It sparkled under the sun.

  The field and stream had been a good place to stop since the walleye had been biting and a patch of wild spinach grew nearby. While she and Rukh were still well provisioned, it was always a good idea to save their supplies whenever possible. Jessira was pleasantly full and didn’t even mind that the fish had been over-salted — Rukh’s fault. On the trail, fresh food of any kind was a blessing.

  Just then, a blustery wind blew, pregnant with the taste of snow or a cold rain. The day had started out bright and sunny, but to the northwest, scudding, gray clouds warned of coming weather. It was likely to arrive in the next few hours, possibly sooner. The Creosote Plain was infamous for its temperamental weather. Yesterday evening and so far today, it had been spring-like — warm and sunny — but a few hours from now, snow would threaten.

  “What do you think?” Rukh asked, stepping to her side.

  Jessira studied the clouds for a moment. “I think we better find shelter,” she said.

  Rukh pointed south. “If we follow the stream toward those hills, we might come across a cave.”

  Jessira nodded. “We better hurry.”

  Rukh quickly loaded their belongings on the packhorse while Jessira took point. She led them along the stream bank, taking them into the southern hills Rukh had pointed out. The wind picked up, bitter and biting, forcing them to don heavy shirts and coats before pushing on. An hour later, they entered a water-carved canyon with sheer walls layered in shale, granite, and limestone. All the while, Jessira scanned ahead, searching for the sanctuary of a cave. Thick snowflakes began falling, swirling about and blown sideways by the wind, which was now a howling gale as it roared through the funnel of the canyon. The snow thickened and visibility dimmed to no more than a few yards ahead.

  “There,” Rukh yelled.

  Jessira looked to where he pointed, but she couldn’t see what it was. Rukh took her hand, and she let him pull her along, trusting he knew where they were going.

  They reached a limestone overhang beneath which was a dry, gravel-lined floor. A rock shelter. It wasn’t ideal, but it would do.

  “We need wood for the fire,” Rukh said.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Jessira replied. “Set up the tents. We’ll want a place to huddle up if this turns out to be a blizzard.”

  Rukh grimaced. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  They set about their tasks. Jessira left the shelter, looking up and down the length of the stream. For once, luck was with her. Nearby was a large pile of old driftwood. It should be more than enough to see them through the storm. She hauled her find back to the rock shelter, taking several trips to do so. By the time she finished her task, Rukh had put up the tent and built a bright, cheery fire. He’d even seen to the packhorse, hobbling the gelding where the animal would be protected from the worst of the wind and weather but near enough to still feel the warmth of the fire. Their belongings stood stacked next to the tent

  “Is there anything else?” Rukh asked, looking up as he finished brushing down the horse.

  Jessira dropped her load of logs. “No. This is the last of it.” She moved to the bright warmth of the fire, putting out her hands to work some heat back into them.

  Rukh sighed. “Good thing we stopped early for lunch. We might have been caught out in the open if we hadn’t.”

  Jessira smiled. “You mean we should be thankful you were hungry so early in the day.”

  Rukh grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  *****

  “How much further to Hammer?” Jessira asked.

  “A few more days,” Rukh answered as he stirred their meager fire. In the Wildness, they couldn’t afford anything larger. Blending hid much but not everything.

  They camped near a marsh. Every day, more signs of spring’s imminent arrival could be read. The world was slowly coming back to life. Unfortunately, the warmer weather also meant the bog stank. Rukh imagined he could see a fog of sulfurous fumes rising like a foul mist from the surrounding core grass. Also, the ground underneath was thick and wet, sucking at their feet and slowing their travel. He’d almost lost a boot in it the other day. Luckily, another day should see them clear of the marsh.

  “I know it’s only been seven weeks, but it feels like seven months since we left Stronghold,” Jessira said.

  Rukh stared into the flames. He was thankful for Jessira’s presence, but guilty that she was with him in the first place. He lifted his head and met her eyes. “I’m sorry I brought you out here.”

  “I thought we already went over this,” Jessira said, a resolute tone in her voice. She stared at him, forcing him to meet the challenge in her eyes. “It was my choice, remember? You didn’t tie me down and force me. I came here of my own accord.” Silence fell between them until Jessira spoke once aga
in. “What happens after Hammer?” she asked.

  Rukh shrugged. “I’m not sure. I never thought about it.”

  “Will you come back to Stronghold?” she asked.

  Traveling the Wildness for the rest of his life was what he had originally intended when he had first made the decision to leave Stronghold. But that was before Jessira had chosen to accompany him. He couldn’t keep her away from her family and home. “I’ll go back,” he said, staring into the fire. He glanced up and caught her smile of gratitude. His stomach did a little flip when she reached out to squeeze his hand.

  “Thank you,” Jessira said.

  Rukh stared into the fire once more. “How do you think your people will react?” he asked.

  She misunderstood his question. “I think you won’t have nearly as difficult a time as you did before the Trials. You’ll be fine.”

  “I mean you,” Rukh corrected. “How will they react to you? You left with me. You broke your engagement to Disbar. How will they treat you?”

  “It probably won’t be easy,” she said with a grimace. “Disbar is an ass, and I’m sure he’s doing his best to ruin my reputation.”

  Rukh smiled. “At least he’s an ass who will never be your husband.”

  Jessira chuckled. “There is that,” she said. Silence fell again until Jessira shivered. “My feet are freezing,” she complained.

  Rukh glanced her way. “Put them closer to the fire,” he suggested. “And why aren’t you wearing your boots?”

  “Muscle cramps,” Jessira answered. “And they’re sore.” She gave him a hopeful look. “Can you rub them?”

  Rukh shuffled away from her. “No.”

  She looked affronted. “Why not?”

  Rukh sighed. “Because your feet probably smell awful.”

  “I just washed them,” Jessira protested, pointing to a nearby pond, one that was clear and not covered with pond scum.

  “No,” Rukh repeated.

  Jessira stared at him in consideration. “What do you want me to rub?” she asked.

  Rukh glanced her way and grinned. “Well, if you’re asking … ” He stood and unbuckled his belt.

  “Not that!” Jessira said, sounding appalled as she shifted away from him.

  Rukh chuckled. “Get your head out of the sewer. I need you to rub my back. The belt’s been chaffing.”

  “Oh.” Jessira reddened.

  Rukh smiled. “Are you embarrassed? Weren’t you the one who told me how prudish Kummas are?”

  “Taking offense because it seemed like you were about to expose your manhood to me — and the entire world, for that matter — is not a sign of prudishness,” Jessira explained with a sniff.

  “So does that mean you’re going to rub my back?” Rukh asked.

  Jessira had a glint in her eyes. “Rub my feet first?”

  Rukh had played this game before. If he agreed to her request, as soon as he was done with her feet, she’d swipe ineffectually at his back for a few seconds before declaring herself tired. “My back first,” he said.

  “How about at the same time?” Jessira said.

  Rukh rolled his eyes. “You want me to rub your feet while at the same time, you rub my back?” He shook his head. “You realize that’s anatomically impossible?”

  “It’s possible,” Jessira said, sounding confident.

  “How?”

  “Like this.” Jessira positioned herself behind Rukh. He stiffened with shock when she wrapped her long legs around his waist, laying her feet on his thighs. “See.”

  Rukh didn’t dare move, intensely aware of Jessira’s presence: her soft breath against his neck, her hands on his back, and most especially the feel of her firm legs around his waist.

  “Is this making you uncomfortable?” Jessira asked in a voice sweet enough to sugar a pie.

  Rukh swallowed. “No,” he lied, proud his voice didn’t crack.

  Rukh rubbed her feet, imagining them to be as smelly as the swamp. It wasn’t true, but he couldn’t allow himself to notice anything else. He practiced his breathing, taking slow, steady breaths. In and out. Anything to distract from the softness of Jessira’s skin; the hint of lilac from the soap she must have used; her cinnamon scent, the feel of her firm thighs around his waist; and her strong hands on his shoulders. Now was not the time for any of … that, if that was even what Jessira wanted.

  Jessira inhaled softly, sounding enchanted. To his disappointment, she unstrapped her legs and leaned forward until her face was next to his. She gestured for quiet and pointed at something in the marshy distance. “Look,” she whispered.

  Rukh followed the line of her finger. A couple of long-necked birds waded in the nearby pond.

  “Cranes,” Jessira said. “Some of them summer in Stronghold. They’re considered harbingers of good luck.”

  “What kind of good luck?” Rukh asked.

  “A strong marriage,” Jessira explained. “Cranes mate for life. It’s considered auspicious for a couple to wed during the time of the crane mating dance. It’s why we schedule our weddings to take place at the same time as when they return to Tear Lake.”

  Rukh smiled at the idea. “How romantic,” he said. “I wouldn’t have expected it from your people.”

  “Pragmatic,” Jessira corrected. “When we speak of a strong marriage, romantic love isn’t considered an important part of it.”

  “Perhaps you should,” Rukh said.

  Jessira shifted until she could look him in the eyes. Rukh brushed her cheek, a strand of her hair. Jessira leaned forward, kissing him softly and all-too briefly on the lips. “Perhaps we will,” she said before moving to the other side of the fire.

  *****

  Rukh and Jessira held as still as statues as they looked to the south. They stood upon the famed black cliffs north of Hammer with waves crashing against the rocks hundreds of feet below.

  From their vantage point, the wreck of the once-proud city was readily evident. River Mastery, sluggish and wide, passed into the city, feeding the surrounding farms, all of which were now choked with weeds and vines and the makings of a forest. From there, the water had been mastered by a string of dams and locks into slowly flowing canals ebbing through the heart of the city. For this reason, Hammer was also known as the Floating Rose. Even now, ruined and overgrown as they were, Rukh could appreciate the history and romance of the waterways and their storied gondolas. Rukh’s heart stirred as he imagined what it must have been like long ago when Hammer thrived.

  The sun approached the western horizon, casting the bay in reflective gilding. Despite the golden light, the city was cast in a pall of sorrow, a phantom fog of beauty despoiled. The tall towers and their famous onion domes; the city’s walls, once as powerful and grand as Ashoka’s — all of it lay in ruins now, although broken remnants could still be seen beneath a thick blanket of tangled, green vines.

  Jessira was first to break the spell. “It makes me want to cry.”

  Rukh nodded before turning away. “Lets go,” he suggested.

  They set up camp in silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. Jessira had a small fire going while Rukh took care of their packhorse. They settled in for supper. In the morning, they planned on entering the city. Rukh recalled a few days prior when he and Jessira had kissed. It hadn’t happened again, not even a hint that it might. And this melancholy place, with its softly moaning wind, wasn’t necessarily a place to pick up where they had left off.

  “What is it?” Jessira asked.

  “I was thinking about when we saw the cranes in the marsh.” He reached over and squeezed her hand.

  “Now really isn’t the time,” Jessira said, tugging her hand free.

  Rukh smiled. “How do you know what I want?”

  Jessira smiled back at him. “You’re a man. You want what every man wants.”

  “You certainly have a high opinion of yourself,” Rukh said in a teasing tone.

  “No. Just common sense.”

  “And now isn’t th
e time?” Rukh asked. “But there might be a time?”

  Jessira gave him a slow appraising look from beneath hooded eyes. “Maybe.”

  It wasn’t much of an answer one way or another, and Rukh studied her, the play of light and shadow from the campfire on her face. Her green eyes seemed to glow, her honey-brown hair burnished. He reached for her hand again. This time she let him hold it. He trailed his hand upward, along her arm, past her shoulder, to the curve of Jessira’s neck until it rested gently against her face.

  “Who are we?” he asked.

  Jessira stared him in the eyes. “Who do you want us to be?” she asked.

  Rukh didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned forward, kissing her softly; afraid she might pull away. The kiss deepened. She cupped his face, pulling him closer, her mouth parting slightly. Rukh ran his fingers through her hair, inhaling her cinnamon scent, wanting to drown in her.

  Jessira smiled, her teeth flashing in the dark. “You haven’t answered me. What do you want?”

  He kissed her again. “I want what all men want, remember?” he said with a grin.

  She laughed, low and throaty. “Well, that much I already knew.”

  Rukh laughed with her. “I love you Jessira. Wherever you are is my home.”

  “Even Stronghold?” she asked, appearing to hold her breath as she awaited his response.

  Once the answer would have been a certain ‘no’, but time, love, and forgiveness had given him a fresh perspective. “Even Stronghold. As long as you’re with me, I’ll stay there as long as you’ll have me.”

  Jessira grinned, her eyes welling. This time, she was the one to reach for him. She kissed him, clasping her hands around his neck and holding him tight. She was the first to break away. “I’m going to hold you to your promise,” she told him, her voice breathless.

  “You’ll never need to,” Rukh replied.

 

‹ Prev