by Khalid Uddin
It was too coincidental that so many people were showing up after their father’s death, trying to get them out of Haedon. Someone found Baltaszar, and these men had now found him. Going with them seemed wisest, now that Yasaman had intruded upon his house and made it no longer safe.
I guess it’s either go with them or wait for her parents to chase us. Stupid girl. Is kissing her really worth the trouble? Bo’az turned and stared down the dark hallway to see her petite silhouette peeking from a doorway on the right. Linas hadn’t mentioned anything about her. There was a chance he didn’t know she was here. Turning back toward the window, Bo’az leaned out. “I need to pack some clothes, tools, and supplies. Give me a moment and I’ll come down.” Linas nodded in agreement.
“Did you hear that?” he asked Yasaman.
“Somewhat. I mostly heard your side of the conversation, and tried to make sense of it all. I guess we’re leaving, then?” she pulled him close again.
Be natural. Bo’az wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Looks like it. They want me, though. I don’t think they know you’re here.”
She pushed him away. “So what, you’re going to run away with strange visitors in the middle of the night and leave me here?”
“You know that’s not what I mean, Yas.” He almost felt he was Tasz at this point, arguing with her. “I’m just saying that when we walk outside, they might be surprised to see you. So don’t do anything crazy or stupid.”
“Thanks.”
Perfect. Now she’s mad at me, and she doesn’t even know who ‘me’ is. “Come on, let’s just get our things packed and go.”
Bo’az returned to his room and put on his black cloak. He went back to the closet and grabbed another pack, randomly threw clothes and another cloak in it, and slung it onto his back. Yasaman waited in the hall after getting her pack from Baltaszar’s room. “Why are you taking your brother’s clothes instead of your own?”
Great. Questions. “I…uh, I was going to see if we could stop in the forest first to give these to him. Even if he won’t come along, he could use these.”
“Wait, he’s not coming with us?”
“He’s not going to want to. Besides, the man out there, Linas, only seems to be looking for me. He said ‘Baltaszar,’ not ‘Bo’az.’ And I don’t think Bo would come. He’s pretty set on doing his own thing. Ever since Lea Joben’s kitchen burned down, he’s hated it here and hasn’t trusted anyone.”
“Yeah. I’ve always felt bad for him about that. He deserved better. Even if he’s scared of everything, he has a certain charm to him. Who knows, if I hadn’t fallen for you so quickly, maybe I might’ve ended up with your brother.” She smirked at him, making it impossible to tell whether there was any truth in what she said. “So then what are these men going to say when we stop to see Bo’az?”
“I don’t know; I guess we’ll see when we get outside.” My God, girl, can you please stop? “Any more questions or can we go?”
“You don’t have to be an ass. I’m just curious. You’re the one who wanted to plan things out. You go out first.”
“Wait here a moment.” Bo’az dashed down the hallway to his father’s room on the right. It was just as dark in there. He headed toward the bed, lifted up the pillow, and found what he was looking for. Bo’az brought the dagger close to his face to examine it, then, satisfied, tucked it into his belt at his right hip and covered it with his muddy black cloak. He returned to Yasaman at the stairs and they descended.
Slowly nearing the front door, Bo’az gripped the dagger’s hilt from outside his cloak. “Before we go outside, promise me one thing. Don’t mention Bo’az to them. I’ll tell them we have to make a stop.” Yasaman nodded in agreement. He opened the door, peered through the crack to ensure there was no surprise attack, then pushed it farther open and walked through. The three men now stood together at the bottom of the porch stairs. As he walked forward, Yasaman came out from behind him and revealed her presence.
Linas glared at her, the annoyance evident in his eyes. “Who is this girl? She is not welcome on our journey.” He spat on the ground.
“She comes with us.”
“Baltaszar, there is much work to do in the days ahead, we cannot bear the burden of any unnecessary people in our camp.”
Yasaman’s head swiveled back and forth between Bo’az and Linas. Her mouth opened, ready to defend herself. Bo’az interrupted. “She is necessary for my well-being. I know her and trust her with everything, including my life.” She glanced at him, then darted her eyes away. Even in the dark, Bo’az knew she was blushing.
“Baltaszar, we do not have time for this. Our master gave us strict orders that we were only to bring you.”
“He’ll have to bend his rules then. If I’m that important to this Darian fellow, I’m sure he won’t mind. If she doesn’t go, neither do I.”
Linas took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “As you wish. But our journey is long and dangerous. If the girl slows our progress or hinders us, I make no guarantee about the consequences. I cannot stress enough the importance of delivering you unharmed as quickly as possible.”
“Understood.” No guarantees about consequences? What exactly is he trying to say?
“Baltaszar, these are my two…associates. Gibreel Casteghar and Rhadames Slade.” Linas nodded behind him to the other two, extremely tall men. Of what little Bo’az could discern of them despite their coats, Gibreel had a grizzly, chiseled face, like rock, and very nappy shoulder-length hair with a scowl on his face. Rhadames, who was slightly taller, had longer dark curly hair and a beard just as thick to match. Rhadames stroked his beard and glared at Bo’az.
Linas continued, “On the road ahead we will face forest, mountains, water, and desert. Whatever hardships the landscapes forget, the beasts will surely remember. The three of us will save your life on more than one occasion, but be prepared at all times to defend yourself.” Rhadames stared quizzically at Bo’az, and then looked down again.
Linas turned to his associates. “Gibreel, Rhadames, get our horses. Bring the girl; I’d like to speak to Baltaszar alone. Hurry. We’ve wasted enough time in this forsaken town. We must begin our journey back.” Linas spit again.
Gibreel and Rhadames rushed to the fence and out the gate, toward the corner where they’d tied the horses. Yasaman followed unwillingly. Linas took Bo’az aside. “We didn’t expect there to be others. The girl will have to ride with one of us. There are only four horses. Are the two of you smart enough to come equipped with a blade?”
Yes. “No.”
“Of course not. Well here, boy, take a dagger.” Linas reached to his belt and handed Bo’az the small blade. Bo’az tucked it into his belt. Linas moved closer to Bo’az, “Now. Why is there no black line on your face? We were told that was how we would find you.” Linas stomped up to Bo’az, close enough that Bo’az could smell sweet rum on his breath. He grabbed Bo’az by the scruff on his chin, pulling it forward. He inspected the full surface of Bo’az’s face, from his left eye to his cheek, and the black stubbly mess that covered Bo’az’s jaw, as if trying to convince himself that what he saw was real. Finally, he let go of Bo’az’s jaw, slightly pushing him back. “Where is the mark, boy? Where is the god damn mark?”
Bo’az had been ruminating on what to say when he was finally asked, but still the words struggled to come out. “I…it must…it healed…I don’t, I don’t know what happened. I…I, over the past few weeks…it, it disappeared. I don’t know how, I swear! I…I’ve had that scar since I was a boy…it…it’s just gone.” Orijin, please protect me!
Linas now glowered at him, anger and desperation filling his voice. “What in the light of Orijin are you talking about? It healed? Disappeared? Impossible. What is it you thought was on your face?”
“A scar! My father told me there was a fire when I was a boy and my face was burnt, leaving that black scar. It…it must have somehow healed.”
Linas continued as Gibreel
, Rhadames, and Yasaman returned with the horses. “You have much to learn, boy. Your father was a fool to lie to you, and you were a fool to believe him. If this news were not so grave, I would truly be on the ground laughing. Now how do I know you’re even Baltaszar? All we were told was to identify you by the Mark.” Linas turned to Rhadames. “Slade, you’re better with the history of all this. Can it disappear?”
“Don’t know, Linas.” Slade walked up and inspected Bo’az’s face. “But the boy looks just like Joakwin. No question that’s Kontez’s boy.”
Linas clenched his jaw. “Simple as that? You know for sure this is the one?”
Slade glared at Linas, “Don’t question me, Nasreddine. I was chosen for this journey because I knew this boy’s father. I tell you he’s Joakwin’s son.” Slade turned to Bo’az and winked. “You have any siblings, boy?”
Bo’az understood the ploy. “No, just me.”
“Good. And what is your father’s name?”
“Joakwin Kontez.”
Slade nodded in approval. “And what of your mother?”
“She died when I was a small boy.”
“Satisfied?” Slade glanced at Linas then walked back to the horses.
Linas took Slade’s response as confirmation. “Fine. But our master never once in my lifetime mentioned that it could disappear. I know not what this means for you, but it is even more urgent that we return to him. I can only hope that he will have answers.”
Dammit. There’s no way I can justify asking to go into the forest now. Yas will be angry. Bo’az interjected, “So then what was it on my face?”
“It’s complicated Baltaszar. For now, just know that the black mark on your face isn’t a…” He turned his head at the oncoming commotion, forgetting to finish his sentence.
Orange lights grew in the distance beyond the fence, licking the air like serpents, as the ground rumbled. The figures of over forty men on horses appeared on the road leading to the farm. “They must know I’m not at home! We have to go! They’ll kill all of you!” yelled Yasaman as she ran to a horse, not waiting for any of the men to help her.
Linas shouted orders, “Mount up! No time to waste!”
Bo’az raced away across the field.
“Stop! Where are you going, boy! If you dare run away now I will gladly bring you back battered and bruised!” threatened Linas.
“I’m going to get my horse! We’ll be faster through the forest if there’s only one rider on each! Besides, someone has to open the back gate for us to escape through!”
Linas waved them toward the farm’s rear gate, which lay a few hundred yards away from the house.
Pangs of guilt flooded Bo’az as he neared the stable. He’d spent most of his childhood with these horses, and now they’d be left behind, likely killed for having been owned by his father. “Iridian, I need you, girl!” His favorite black mare neighed at hearing her name. He saddled Iridian quickly. Bo’az opened all the stable doors, and then mounted Iridian in seconds. I hope these horses are smart enough to run away. Iridian was not only his favorite, she was the fastest. “Come on girl, I need you to be faster than the wind tonight,” he whispered in her ear. As he turned the horse out of the stable, he saw the men reach the farmhouse. They rode with madness in their eyes and death in their scowls.
Bo’az quickly neared the rest of his company at the high wooden gate. Rhadames had already opened it and was remounting his horse. “Ride to the forest!” Bo’az shouted. “They won’t follow us in! Not very far anyway!” Bo’az knew how much fear filled the minds and hearts of Haedonians when it came to The Never. They wouldn’t dare ride into the forest.
As Bo’az caught up with his companions, they all flowed through the gate and toward the shrubs and bushes that lay across the field to the east. All they had to do was maintain the gap between them and the mob until they reached the trees. “Ride as fast as you can! We’re almost there!” He and Linas led, with Rhadames and Yasaman behind.
Gibreel took the rear, constantly checking the riders behind them. “They’re gaining! I can’t tell if we’ll make it!” For the calmness of his voice, he might as well have said the grass was green.
Linas fired back, “Then make sure we make it!” He turned to glance at Gibreel, who nodded. Bo’az, curious, turned back at Gibreel, and spied him nocking an arrow in his bow. Gibreel fired, spearing the front rider and separating him from his horse. The other pursuers temporarily stopped in awe, unable to comprehend that one of their own had been killed. When they resumed their pursuit, they seemed to be riding harder and faster now.
Bo’az knew he was slowing down to watch, but couldn’t help himself. Two more riders at the front fell to Gibreel’s arrows, tumbling forward as their bodies entangled the horses. Bo’az could hear the snaps of limbs, even as many paces ahead as he was. He turned back around and sped up to Linas. The forest’s interior was now in sight. He could see beyond the hem of the shrubbery into the trees and underbrush.
As he turned to direct the others, Bo’az saw the chaos that had unfolded because of Gibreel. A dozen more riders and horses joined the rolling tangle behind them. The others rode on, their mouths agape with savagery. Behind it all, Bo’az saw his house slowly beginning to burn. Flames encircled the house’s perimeter and crawled up each side as a black cloud hovered above.
Gibreel snapped at him, “Turn around and ride to the forest, you god damn fool! We have to bring you back alive!”
Bo’az knew he couldn’t argue. He dug his heel into Iridian’s sides and strode toward the forest. Linas had already reached the covering of the trees, along with Rhadames and Yasaman. Gibreel kept pace with Bo’az as the two of them reached the others. “Keep going!” Bo’az ordered the rest of his company. “They’re brave enough to come in to a certain point. We have to ride deep enough into the woods that we can no longer see the clearing,” Bo’az and Gibreel turned to check on their pursuers. Only a few left. Most of them had stopped once they realized that Bo’az and the others weren’t bluffing about going deeper into the forest. Bo’az noticed about twenty other men on horses pacing back and forth beyond the trees in the fields.
Content that the men would not continue on, Bo’az and Gibreel rode on without looking back. The other three were already thirty or forty paces ahead. Bo’az allowed Gibreel to pass him and slowed his mare to a trot. He took a deep breath, his first chance to let his guard down in what seemed like ages, though even here, he knew he wouldn’t be able to completely relax. Joining these three strangers now felt strangely dangerous, although if it hadn’t been for them, that mob of men surely would have killed him. And Yasaman. And it wasn’t even him they were after. Still, some of their comments left him wondering how much they really wanted to help him…or actually Baltaszar. And that made it even more complicated.
They want Tasz because of the thing on his face. They don’t even seem to know that Baltaszar has a brother. If I change my mind and turn back now, they’ll know that something is off.
Before going into hiding with his brother, Bo’az had never been this deep into the forest before. He joked that he didn’t believe in any of the stories about The Never being haunted, but he’d never actually made it a point to find out for himself. When they were young children he, Baltaszar, and some of the other boys would compete to see who could stay in the woods the longest. Baltaszar was always the one crazy and brave enough to stay the longest. He held the record among their friends for having gone the deepest and staying the longest out of all their friends. Bo’az hoped Yasaman didn’t know about that. The lies are just going to pile up.
Bo’az commanded Iridian to speed up so he could catch the others. He could hear the horses’ hooves clopping against the hard ground, though they echoed all around him. As he turned to look behind him, something violently crashed into Bo’az from the right, knocking him to the ground. He bounced and skidded off dirt, roots, and stone. He felt the blood pouring from the side of his head and ear, the burn already spreading t
hrough his head and face. His left arm snapped more than once under the weight of his body, knives of pain shooting back and forth between his hand and shoulder.
“How dare you try to steal my daughter you coward!” Her father. Isaan Adin.
Bo’az was too light-headed and dizzy to respond. Sharp knuckles pounded against the back of his head, repeatedly driving his face into the ground. Darkness invaded. He blinked his eyes. Each blunt smash from Isaan’s fist made the world fly around even more.
“I’ll kill you! How can you call yourself a man and try to steal someone’s child?” Numbness invaded Bo’az’s arm and crept through his body. Isaan, now hovering over him, hadn’t even bothered to turn him over. He punched Bo’az in the head again and again and broke Bo’az’s nose against the ground. Finally, Bo’az felt his body being rolled onto his back. His eyes glazed over and rolled about, but he unquestionably saw the surprise in Isaan’s eyes when he looked upon Bo’az’s face.
That’s…right. Fool. No. Black. Line.
The only thought Bo’az could process was the hope that Isaan wouldn’t speak his real name aloud for the others to hear. But his hopes dissipated instantly. “You are not…”
A gleam of silver sliced through Isaan’s neck in a flash. Blood sprayed across Bo’az’s face, mixing with his own. Isaan’s head slid from his body and smashed Bo’az’s chin. Even if Bo'az had been able to move on his own, Isaan’s headless and lifeless body prevented him from getting up.
Darkness clouded his vision and thoughts. He could barely see Yasaman running toward him, the sound of her yelling garbled. She disappeared for a moment. Darkness. He blinked slowly. She crashed to the ground and didn’t move. His eyes closed again, too heavy for him to fight back, and the darkness consumed him.
Chapter 3
The Painted One
From The Book of Orijin, Verse Twenty-seven
Humility in all that you do shall guide your path to Omneitria.