The Rise of Nazil

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  “What about the maiden’s tears?” Hosdaq asked. “Saifu can make a broth for her to drink.”

  A look of incredulity crossed Vot’s face. “We don’t murder innocent babes in their mother’s wombs. Those foul herbs are for others of these lands, not us.”

  “Olam, what else do you see?” Huname asked. “Your expression betrays your thoughts.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen many things that have yet to clear. The images seem in disorder, and it’ll take time to decipher them. One thing is certain: they must be told. They spoke about their fondness for each other, but it’s beyond that. There’s an energy—a connection of sorts. It’s difficult to explain, and not easily cast aside. Never have I experienced such a fervent impression. His thoughts were on their marriage, not wedding Denotra. Learning of his son might cause him to rethink his position and his obligations.”

  “But—”

  “No, Elder Hosdaq. Brahanu was meant to birth this child, and he won’t come forth without great suffering. Keeping him in her womb will be difficult and the birth painful.”

  “There’s always pain before such a blessing,” Huname said.

  “Not like this. This birth will be like none other. Brahanu’s life could end as his begins. The pain will be excruciating; many times that of a normal birth. They’ll need to know this as well.”

  “Are there any among us who don’t agree with what Olam has revealed?” Vot asked.

  “I don’t disagree,” Hosdaq said quickly. “But if Pentanimir learns about his son, what of Nazil? He’ll be torn between love and duty, and I can’t see him choosing the latter. We need him in Nazil. He’s our only hope.”

  “Agreed,” said Vot. “Howbeit, his life isn’t ours to command. We’ll tell them both the truth and allow them to decide. With their decision, mayhaps Olam can better decipher his visions.”

  Haven

  Danimore’s head lolled, fighting against the sleep that he desperately needed. After working two guard shifts, and visiting the citadel, exhaustion was getting the better of him. The warmth from the crackling fire and gentle hum of the wind soothed his senses, beckoning him to sleep. Slowly, his lids lowered, surrendering to the urges of his body.

  As his eyes nearly shut, a pained cry caused them to blink open. He stared, dazed for a moment, attempting to regain the dwindling remnants of consciousness. When the room came back into focus, his mind returned to the present, and the woman in the bed beside him.

  “Please, lie still,” Danimore said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Hushar has tended your wounds, but you still need time to rest and recover.”

  Zeta rested her hands on her abdomen, as her eye darted around the room. The last memory was of Denotra, and then a reverberant voice, repeating her name. What had she done and what consequence awaited her?

  “Your babe is all right, too. Hushar wanted me to tell you that,” Danimore said, noticing her trembling and edging toward the wall. She cradled her womb, putting distance between them.

  “Please sir, where is this place?”

  “You’re in my home. The Zaxson offered me one of his attendants, and I selected you.”

  “Me? But—but I’m of little use. Am I to pleasure you, milord?” she asked, pushing her hair from her face. “I can learn whatever you like. I—I promise to please you well.” As she reached between his legs, Danimore rose, sliding her hand away.

  “Zeta, you’re not here to pleasure me or anyone else. Once you’ve healed, you’ll cook, clean, and shop for our home, nothing more. Only my brother and I reside here, and your duties will be light. This room is yours, and you’ll be well treated.”

  “I don’t serve the citadel anymore?”

  “No. I wouldn’t leave you there,” he said, pushing those memories from his mind. “Your place is here with me, and I’ll look after you.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked up at him. “I don’t serve the Zaxson?”

  “Not anymore. My name is Danimore Benoist, and you’ll remain here with me. I know it’s difficult to understand, but I don’t want anything more from you. It won’t be the same as it was at the citadel. Until you’re able to work, I’ll continue as I have. But these tasks will fall to you when you’re able.”

  “Yes, milord, I’ll do whatever you say. I’m a good worker, I promise.”

  “I don’t doubt your abilities or your commitment. Just know: you’ll not be beaten or mistreated. I expect you to do your chores and rest. My brother and I need little, but we’ll discuss those details once you’ve recuperated. For now, I’d like to ask you some questions. Do you know the father of your child?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I was told that you leveraged your body for your freedom, but I don’t believe that.”

  “It—it’s as they say. Whatever they’ve told you is the truth.”

  He sighed, sitting in the chair beside the bed again. “Zeta, you have no cause to trust me, but I’m not trying to trick you. I’d asked you before how you came to Nazil, and you said that you were aboard a ship. What happened?”

  She touched her swollen eye, glancing at him with the other one. She couldn’t stop trembling, but she didn’t perceive any dishonesty in him. However, that misperception had cost her before, and she still bore the scars from that beating. She was reluctant, but didn’t feel that she had a choice. The Zaxson could’ve told him about her capture, and if she lied, she’d be beaten again, or worse.

  “I had passage on a ship,” she began. “Some guards came aboard and—and—I—I—tried to escape.” Her tears began anew as she described her capture, yet her face was frozen in a blank, expressionless mask. As if she were retelling events where she didn’t exist, yet another stood in her place, impervious to pain and torment.

  Danimore choked back his emotion, listening to the horrific detailed recounting. He wanted her to stop, to walk away, but he remained attached to his chair, unable to move.

  “That’s the truth of it, milord? I don’t know who sired my babe or why I love it so. I’d die so it could live free. I was maiden and promised when they took me. Now, I’m but a collection of holes, and they’ll kill me when I’m of no more use.”

  Danimore listened helplessly as she lay weeping upon the bed. There was nothing that he could offer to soothe such an ache. He could remove her from danger, but she’d already suffered more than could ever be mended. He hadn’t realized the depth of torture inflicted on Nazil’s captives. Taking someone’s freedom was appalling enough, this, reached far beyond that. Zeta was living, but she wasn’t alive.

  “I’m sorry, Zeta, truly. It’s not nearly enough, but it’s all that I have to offer.”

  When she looked over at him, he lifted a jar from the table. I’ve mixed a tincture of herbs, and this is kuzbarah oil. I applied it once before while you slept, but you’ll need more soon to ease the pain. If you’ll allow, I can apply some now and then get you something to eat.”

  If I allow? Zeta thought, flinching as he reached for the covers.

  “I promise not to hurt you,” he said, drizzling some oil in his hands. “Please tell me if I’m too rough. My brother’s touch is gentler than mine.”

  “It—it doesn’t hurt.”

  “Are you able to sit up?”

  She nodded, still uncertain. Danimore’s countenance displayed a kindness atypical of the Nazilians that she’d met. This was the first time since her capture that she wasn’t afraid. Although she didn’t trust Danimore, she didn’t fear him, either.

  “You need to drink this,” he said, handing her the cup. “It’s a tea that my mother used to make with valerian, chamomile, imphepho, and a drop of nightshade. It’ll allow you to sleep and relax your stiffness.”

  “It’s good. I taste some honey, too.”

  “Just a little to sweeten the tea. I’ll leave you now to rest, but don’t try to get up without my aid. My chamber isn’t far from yours, and I’ll leave the door open. After I rest, I’ll make us something to eat. I hope that you have
an appetite for fish and rice.”

  For the first time, she smiled. “Fish and rice suits me well. Thank you for your kindness, Sir. It isn’t deserved.”

  “It’s more than deserved, Zeta, it’s owed to you.”

  A Great Decision

  Pentanimir was waiting near the eternal fire while Brahanu washed and dressed. He poked at the flames with a stick, noticing the Elders exiting the hall. He’d missed the peace of Bandari. Only here did he feel free in both body and mind, and he longed for such peace to last.

  Hearing the door creak open, he stood, tossing his stick into the fire. Damp ringlets clung to Brahanu’s face, outlining her beauty. Even wearing a plain cotton tunic and slippers, she was stunning. The moonlight shone on her glistening skin, reminding him of the first time that he’d seen her. More beautiful now than even then, he thought, reaching forward to embrace her.

  “Thank you, Pentanimir, everything that you said is true. The people here are remarkable. I just wish that I could’ve met more of them.”

  “You’ll have an opportunity on the morrow. They’d like to meet you, too.”

  “How do you feel? Your eye is still swollen. Should I check your wounds before we rest?”

  “I’m fine. I went to the dawa not long ago and Saifu changed the bandages. He’d like to tend to you as well, but first, you need to rest,” he said, motioning to the bench.

  “All right. I’ve been thinking about something one of the Elders said, the one from Nazil.”

  “Elder Hosdaq.”

  “Yes. What he said about duty and heart, and then he mentioned your uncle. He didn’t seem pleased at my arrival, and I don’t understand why.”

  “What Hosdaq said had nothing to do with you. He was speaking about my Uncle Oxilon. He’s my father’s younger brother and the Zaxson’s High Advisor. I’m certain that the Elders sense our true feelings, and if they didn’t, Olam would surely know.” He sighed, taking her hand. “They’re aware of my imminent pledge to Denotra, and the implications of such a bond. Though it’s not formally announced, I’m certain that the pledge will be accepted. Hosdaq fears that I might choose my love for you over my duty in Nazil.”

  “What does this mean for us? Are we supposed to act as if we have no feelings?”

  “I didn’t say that, Brahanu. We both knew that our road ahead would be complicated. Regardless of our feelings, we can’t ignore our lives beyond these borders. Your promised awaits you in Cazaal as my pledged waits in Nazil. We’re here to return you to your home, not to forge a relationship. I loathe the thought of it, but that’s the world in which we live. On the morrow, I must return.”

  Brahanu drew him closer, resting her head on his shoulder. He spoke the truth, but she didn’t want to face that reality so soon. “When will I see you again?”

  “Only the gods truly know. It’s they who brought you to me, and they’ll bring us together again,” he said, kissing her lips. “I told you about my younger brother, Danimore. His fate is tied to mine. I’m returning not only to answer my pledge, I’m returning for him, too.”

  “So soon? You promised that we’d have time together, Pentanimir. Can’t you stay a while longer?”

  “I can’t take that risk. Upon my return, I must visit Noraa to send your message. It could take twice as long to return than when we came. If I stop in Mahlum, even longer. We have this time now, and I won’t waste it.”

  “Noraa?”

  “There’s someone I trust there that’ll help me. You’ll be safe here, and the Elders will see you home. I promise; I’ll see you again.”

  She drew him down for a kiss, knowing the truth in his words, but not wanting to accept them.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

  “I love you, too.”

  Embracing her again, he kissed her cheek and brow, looking into her eyes. When he leaned forward, Hosdaq stepped near the fire, appearing like a ghost emerging from the darkness.

  “Elder,” Pentanimir said. “Please, sit.”

  “After such a long trip, I thought you’d be resting,” Hosdaq said.

  “I was allowing Brahanu to dress. We were just getting ready to leave.”

  Hosdaq nodded, listening to his words, but not caring for the content. He swept the long hair from his eyes, resting his gaze on Brahanu.

  “So, Lady Ravenot, how do you find the village?” Hosdaq asked, not awaiting an answer. “Is it the same as you find Pentanimir? What is it that you said? Ah, yes, ‘well.’ Do you find the village well?”

  Brahanu bit back her retort, forcing the best smile that she could manage. “Bandari is like nothing that I’ve ever known. It’s a beautiful village, and the people are as gracious as the Elders are wise.”

  A broad smile crossed his handsome face. “Do you attempt to flatter? Bandari is like nothing that you’ve ever known because there’s no other like it. What we’ve accomplished here is a rare gift…a blessing from the One god. Vot, in his wisdom was the first to believe such a place possible. It took more years than you’ve lived, suffering, and sacrifice to create what surrounds you now. Many honorable men and women lost their lives to protect and preserve this village. For some, it’s the only home that they’ve known,” he said, and then peered over at Pentanimir.

  “Even a place like this can be destroyed as quickly as a serpent can strike. It would be as simple as choosing wrongly. A false choice could have devastating consequences for everyone. Here, all of our fates are intertwined,” Hosdaq said, raising the rope that hung from his belt. “It’s like this rope. As you see it now, it’s strong and tightly woven together. But if you pull at the individual strands, it’ll begin to unravel. The more you pull away, the weaker the rope becomes, until, in the end, you’re left with no rope at all. Yes, fragments will remain; but the whole will be lost. You can try to remake it, but it’ll never be as strong or as purposeful as it was in the beginning. Do you understand, First Chosen?”

  Pentanimir understood all too well. It was more a warning than a question. If he chose wrongly, he could jeopardize all that they’d built. However, making the correct choice, one that kept him in Nazil, could protect Bandari and possibly aid the lands. But how does Hosdaq know the correct choice for me? Pentanimir met his eyes then. This choice was his to make. Hosdaq had made his choice long ago. It was to come here with Esme and begin a new life.

  “Elder, you needn’t remind me of what choices lie before me. I’m aware of my obligations and will honor them. I’m a Chosen of Nazil, but I’ll let no harm come to Bandari. The way to protect this village is to return to Nazil. Brahanu and I were speaking of the same upon your arrival.”

  “As you say, First Chosen,” Hosdaq said, gazing up into the night sky. “The night will be short, and I’m certain that you’re tired. My home is always open to you, and Wosen would welcome the visit. It’s past time that Brahanu was able to rest.” Inclining his head, he disappeared just as swiftly as he’d come.

  Brahanu stared into the fire as if all the answers she sought could be found amongst the flames. She was empty, and nothing could fill the void that began to consume her.

  “Brahanu, speak your thoughts.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow as well. If Hosdaq speaks for the Elders, this isn’t a place for me. I can travel to Noraa as a shadow. You needn’t enter the city; just lead me to it. They’ll receive me at the citadel, and send word to Cazaal.”

  Saying nothing more, she stood, walking away from him. Though tears lined her eyes, she refused to let them fall. She could hear Pentanimir’s light footfalls behind her, but wouldn’t turn to face him. He was right, and she needed to remain strong for both their sakes.

  “Brahanu, please,” he pleaded. “Please wait.” At his urging, she stopped, but didn’t turn.

  “Hosdaq doesn’t speak for the Elders. Those were his thoughts alone. You shouldn’t leave the village, not yet.”

  “Hosdaq spoke true, Pentanimir. You are of Nazil, and I’m of Cazaal. The men who attacked us
proved what this means beyond doubt. Would I have known what that truly meant in the beginning. Instead, I acted like a foolish young girl, allowing my heart to overrule my mind. For an instant, these lands were of no thought. When we were at the falls and alone in the wood, we were this world. There were no others. To me, there was no choice; it had to be. Now I feel like the nethermost female.

  “I can’t claim force or coercion. I begged for your touch, to be one with you, even with my promise to Itai. I betrayed his love for me, a love that has always been between us. I was a fool. I’ve shamed myself and my family. No one will have me. Not Itai, not now that I’m despoiled and no longer maiden.”

  After a steadying breath, she turned to face him. “I release you from me, Pentanimir. After you lead me to Noraa, I’ll return to my home, and trouble you no more,” she said, gently brushing his lips before walking away.

  Unexpected Kindness

  “Are you certain that you can manage?” Danimore asked, escorting Zeta to the kitchen.

  “Yes, sir, I’m well enough to serve.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d call me Danimore. I’m eight and ten, and merely a second guard. The title ‘Sir’ doesn’t apply to me.”

  “But I’d offend by addressing you in the familiar. You’re a high lord and my owner.”

  He shook his head, leading her to a bench in the corridor. “Zeta, I don’t own anyone. It may be difficult for you to comprehend, but I don’t want ownership of you. I offer you the safety of my home, good food, and a warm bed. In return, I ask you to cook and clean. That’s all I expect and require. I know that I’m Nazilian, but I’m not like those in the citadel. My brother and I speak about it often, and we’re not alone. Even so, we dare not mention this to any other. The kindness that I extend to you could be perceived as a slight by some. But showing kindness isn’t a weakness, regardless of whom it’s offered to. I don’t condone the torture or enslavement of anyone: human or Nazilian. In times of war, ransoms are secured by taking captives. Nazil isn’t at war, and our coffers are full. There’s no need for captives.”