The Rise of Nazil

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The Rise of Nazil Page 33

by Aaron-Michael Hall


  “Oy!” a guard shouted. “What’re you doing in there?”

  When Wosen emerged atop his horse, he slashed at the guards, galloping toward the wood. Villagers spilled into the courtyard, hearing the loud shouts from the guards.

  “What in all hells?” Emet said, rushing to Hibret’s side. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  “I—Wosen—he knocked me down.” She nearly swooned, grasping the gushing wound on her forehead.

  “Elders,” Nurul interrupted. “It was Wosen. He knocked her down and then fled into the wood. He was wearing some kind of chainmail and attacked the guards with a sword.”

  “By the gods,” Vot said. “Where’s Hosdaq?”

  “I didn’t see Elder Hosdaq,” Hibret said. “But Wosen ran from his home.”

  “Nurul, will you take Hibret to the dawa so Saifu can tend her?” Vot asked. “Aizen, tell your mother what happened and then find Nzuri and Kuhani. Ahni, come with Emet and me. We need to check on Hosdaq.” As they rushed toward Hosdaq’s home, Vot paused, addressing the guards. “Wake the others and ensure they’re armed. We need to begin a search and protect our borders.”

  Vot looked over the village, a feeling of loss and regret encompassing his soul. As he pushed open the door to Hosdaq’s home, that feeling only intensified.

  “Hosdaq. Elder Hosdaq,” Vot’s shaky voice called out. “Are you here?”

  “Wait, Father,” Ahni said. “I hear something.”

  Vot couldn’t move. He stared blankly across the room, watching his son disappear around the corner.

  “Here, Father, he’s here,” Ahni shouted. “Father, Elder, come quickly!”

  “By the gods, no,” Emet said, lowering to his knees. “Hosdaq…Hosdaq…can you hear me?”

  Hosdaq’s swollen eyes fluttered, his lips quivering. One blood-covered hand raised as a flux of blood oozed from his mouth.

  “Ahni, make haste,” Vot said. “We need Nzuri now. Tell him about Hosdaq’s condition and then go to the dawa. As soon as Saifu’s tended Hibret, we need him here. Hurry!” Vot grabbed a stack of cloth.

  “Emet, put pressure on the wounds, we must stop the bleeding. Until Nzuri comes, we must do what we can.”

  As they worked, Huname and Olam entered the chamber.

  “Wosen did this? No, no, he couldn’t! Why?” Huname wept, swaying to the floor. She wiped the matted hair from Hosdaq’s face, nestling a cushion beneath his head.

  “What can I do?” Olam asked.

  “Help us move him to the bed,” Vot said.

  Hosdaq’s hoarse scream echoed through the chamber as they lifted him from the floor.

  “We need something to wrap his head, and then we’ll have to remove his tunic to see his injuries, Emet. Hold him still while Huname helps me.”

  She wiped away her tears, unclasping his tunic, and exposing the long gashes beneath.

  “Emet, heat some water,” Vot said, stifling his emotion. “Huname, keep pressure on the cloth while I search for some herbs.”

  “Hu—Huname—” Hosdaq’s voice was weak.

  “Shhh…don’t try to talk. Please save what strength you have to heal.”

  “I—It’s too late for me.”

  “No, we won’t lose you, Hosdaq. Nzuri and Saifu are coming, they’re coming.”

  “Lis—listen. Wo—sen, goes to Na—zil. Le—leave,” he struggled to say, gasping between each syllable.

  “Where is he?” Saifu asked, running down the corridor with Nzuri. He skidded to a stop, gasping when he saw Hosdaq upon the blood-sodden bed. After a steadying breath, he went to his side, checking beneath the cloth.

  “Nzuri, we must tend and seal these wounds. Heat the iron in the brazier, make haste,” he said, gently lifting Hosdaq’s head and raising a flask to his lips. “Drink this, Elder. It’ll dull your senses and lessen your pain.”

  Hosdaq grimaced, drinking down the murky liquid. When he tried to speak again, his eyes rolled back as his body went limp.

  “Gods, no!” Huname cried.

  “He’s all right,” Saifu said. “That’s more than he needed, but I didn’t want him conscious.”

  Saifu dabbed at the oozing blood, applying an oily mixture as he went. “This will slow the bleeding and cleanse the area,” he said, examining the wounds closely. “Thank the One god they aren’t as deep as I thought.” He blotted the gashes, checking Hosdaq’s breathing. After he was certain that he was unconscious, he stitched the center of the wounds, dabbing at them again.

  “The iron is hot,” Nzuri said.

  “Good,” he said, lifting it carefully. “Place your hands here and here, and push the skin together. When Nzuri was ready, Saifu wiped away the layer of oil, touching the iron to his skin.

  “I have water,” Emet said.

  “Thank you both,” Saifu said, sprinkling a tincture in the steaming pail. He tossed some cloth in the water, stirring it with his tongs. After a few minutes, he raised it up, waving away the steam billowing around them. Carefully, he laid it over Hosdaq’s fresh wounds.

  “Will he recover?” Emet asked.

  “The blood loss was significant, but the lacerations weren’t deep. If he has the strength and will, he can recover,” Saifu said, turning his attention back to Nzuri. “Please hand me the ointment. I’ll remain here and monitor his condition. I’d move him to the dawa, but I don’t want to risk aggravating his wounds. When will Kuhani arrive?”

  “I sent Antenah in search of him. Kuhani was communing in the mountains. He needs to be here at Hosdaq’s side.”

  “He does,” Saifu said. “Did Wosen really do this?”

  “Yes,” Emet said, solemnly. “Right before he assaulted Hibret. How is she?”

  “The bruise on her head is less painful than the one that he inflicted upon her heart.”

  Emet sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Saifu. We all know how much she loves him.”

  “How could Wosen do this?” Huname asked. “No one in this village loves him more than his father and Hibret. How could he do this?”

  “Where’s Malkia?” Nzuri asked. “Did he hurt her?”

  “No. She was spending the evening with Osmara,” Saifu said. “She told me that Hosdaq needed to talk to Wosen.”

  “Hosdaq must’ve known that Wosen was beyond reason if he sent Malkia away,” Huname said. “But no one could have predicted something like this.”

  “I’m going to assign a few guards here,” Vot said. “We don’t know where Wosen is, or if he’s going to return. We’ll rotate the stationed guards as well. We mustn’t fall prey to his lunacy and rage.”

  “Hosdaq tried to speak to me,” Huname said. “He warned that Wosen was going to Nazil. Could it be true? Has he truly betrayed us?”

  “That’s what my vision revealed,” Olam said. “We knew that he’d be in Nazil, but we didn’t know how or when it would come to pass. We certainly couldn’t have predicted that he’d hurt anyone as he did so.” He shook his head, looking over at Hosdaq. “We’re out of time, Elders. Once he reaches Nazil, they’re coming for us.”

  “Why would they listen to him?” Emet asked.

  “If he discloses information that should remain unknown, they’ll listen.”

  “I believe you should continue this in the hall,” Saifu said. “Nzuri can remain here and assist. If there’s any change, we’ll send word immediately.”

  “You’re right,” Vot agreed. “If you need anything, we’ll be in the hall.”

  A crowd greeted the Elders as they exited Hosdaq’s home. Before they could take a step, questions and shouts erupted from the group. Raising a hand to silence them, Vot closed the door, moving forward.

  “Elders, did Wosen really stab his father?” Hibret asked.

  “Friends...friends, listen to me,” Vot said over their chatter. “Saifu and Nzuri are taking care of Hosdaq. He was injured, but his condition has already improved. If you have any further questions, please assemble in the hall.”

 
“What about Wosen?” a man called out. “What if he returns?”

  “Nurul is doubling the guard and rotating their positions,” Vot said, embracing Huname and walking to the hall.

  “Why didn’t we foresee this, husband?”

  “Because the boy we once knew would be incapable of such acts. Our err was in not realizing the man that he’s become.”

  Unforeseen

  She convulsed, the raging chills intensifying with the inexorable agonies assailing her. Opening a puffy eye, she glanced woozily around the room, hearing the thumps on the door as a distorted, reverberant echo more than anything else. Barely a sliver of light shone through the shuttered windows, with floating particles dancing, twirling, and beckoning her back to unconsciousness. They were weightless and beautiful, untouched by what surrounded them, only visible within the brilliance of that warming ray.

  “Zeta? It’s me, Gali. Zeta?” The voice waved through the air, pulling her from the sleep she so wanted.

  “Zeta?”

  Her eye opened again, glimpsing the undulating, dark shadow, outlined by the light streaming in from the door.

  “Here,” she said, grasping her throat as she struggled to speak. “Here on the floor. Help me, Gali, please,” Zeta screamed, curling in pain.

  “Gods! Zeta, what happened?” Gali said, rushing into the room. “Did you fall?”

  “The door…lock the door.”

  Gali swallowed hard, gazing down to her sprawled out naked on the floor. She glanced around the dark house, feeling pricks of trepidation trickling up her spine. After Zeta cried out again, Gali ran back to the door, turning the heavy lock.

  “I’ll light the hearth and sconces first. Is there anyone else here?” Gali asked.

  “No…just me…please help.”

  Gali’s heart leapt in her chest as she heard Zeta’s agonized pleas. When the hearth illuminated the room, she gasped, stumbling back and tripping over loose items scattered on the floor. Gali moaned, lifting a hand up, only to jerk back in surprise.

  “Zeta, are you bleeding?” she asked, never looking from the blood covering her hand. When no response was forthcoming, Gali crawled over to her side, turning Zeta around to face her. She stroked her bruised and clammy face, wiping away the sweat.

  “Zeta, please, are you having pain?”

  Her lips quivered, releasing a slight whimper before screaming out again, cradling her abdomen.

  “No…no…no,” Gali said, rocking Zeta in her arms. She looked around the room again, laying her back on the floor. “There’s no time, I have to move you,” Gali said, hastening from the room and returning with some blankets.

  “I need you to slide over on the covers,” she said, tucking them under her side. “Do you understand?”

  Zeta nodded, wincing as she moved.

  Straining, Gali pulled the blanket down the corridor, trying not to jostle her. When they made it to Zeta’s chamber, Gali was breathing heavily, trying to see everything through the darkness.

  “I’m going to move you to the bed. Just hold my wrists and try to stand, don’t strain, just try to balance yourself.”

  Gali bent down, cupping her beneath the arms. With a hard tug, she wrenched Zeta up, falling back on the bed. “It’s all right,” she said breathlessly. “I have you.”

  After situating Zeta on the bed, she lit the braziers and opened up the shutters. Once the light bathed the room, she froze, noticing Zeta’s fresh bruises, but more so, the crown of the babe’s head.

  Zeta’s screams seemed unending. She clutched her stomach, curling with the unrelenting pains. “Help me, Gali, I feel it, help me!”

  “It’s all right, just breathe, I’m right here,” Gali said, dipping her hands in the basin and taking supplies from the shelves. “Listen to me, Zeta, just breathe and push when I tell you.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Zeta screeched.

  Gali positioned cushions behind her, dabbing her face with a cool cloth. After drizzling some water between her legs, she rubbed some oil around the battered opening, taking position between them.

  “I know it’s hard, but you must listen to me. When you feel the pressure, you must push. Grab your knees and push as hard as you can.”

  “All I feel is pressure! I can’t do it—I can’t!”

  “I can’t do it for you, Zeta. Push through the pain, you must push!”

  “I can’t do it! Help me!” she screamed. “I can’t—”

  “Stop talking and push. Now!”

  Zeta grasped her knees, pushing through the pain. She couldn’t think, breathe, or cry, the pain cascaded through her entire body.

  “Good, good, Zeta, once more, quickly.”

  Sucking in a sharp breath, she bore down again, screaming with the next push. The resonating shriek faded, replaced by the cries of her babe.

  “A boy, Zeta. A fine healthy boy,” Gali said, tying off his cord and cutting him from his mother. After wiping the residue away, she wrapped him in a cloth, handing him to Zeta.

  Zeta couldn’t move. She stared at her son in awe. Everything else faded away as she looked into his pale eyes, instantly in love.

  “Your breasts should quiet him,” Gali said. “Just place his mouth near your nipple and he’ll suckle.”

  “But...but I don’t know how.”

  “Don’t be afraid,” Gali said, moving to her side. She reached, gently pinching Zeta’s nipple. “See the fluid there? Your breasts are full, and he’ll feed well. Let me help you.” After acclimating him to Zeta’s breast, his mouth surrounded the nipple, and he finally began to suckle.

  “Oh, he sucks hard,” Zeta giggled and cried all at once.

  “Your breasts will get used to it in time. Allow him to feed on one for a while, and then the other. I need to heat some water to clean you. Will you be all right?”

  “Yes, Gali, and thank you. May the gods and Guardians bless you for what you’ve done.”

  “May they bless you and your son as well.”

  They exchanged smiles as Gali moved to the kitchen. Zeta looked at her son, leaning down for a kiss. “You look Nazilian, my precious little one. Mayhaps this alone will keep you with me.”

  “You look as if you were made to have babes in your arms, Zeta. He’s a beautiful, healthy boy,” Gali said on her return.

  “Thank you. How is it possible to love so completely? Nothing I suffered before this very moment has any meaning. He owns my heart.”

  “That’s the bond of mother and child.” Gali smiled. “Have you selected a name for him?”

  “I was going to name him after my uncle Raithym, but I don’t want to dishonor him.”

  “Dishonor? How could that be a dishonor?”

  “We were captured together and…and the Nazilians killed him.”

  She gazed up at Zeta with empathy, continuing her work. “I think the opposite to be true. Your uncle lives on in you, Zeta, and you’d honor him by having your son do the same. Don’t allow the Nazilians’ evils to take from this joy. No matter the means, you have a son that you love, and an uncle you’ll forever remember. They can’t take that from you, as they’ll never remove the love and thoughts of my father and brother from me. Honor him and know that he’d be proud to have his name live on through your son.”

  Zeta nodded, wiping away her tears. “My uncle didn’t have any children…he couldn’t. It was only the three of us. I always said that when I had sons, I’d name them Jansen for my father, and Raithym for my uncle.” She smiled. “My promised liked the idea, as long as our third son would have his name.”

  “You hold your firstborn now, Zeta. What shall we call him?”

  “His name’s Raithym, Raithym Jansen Adderley.”

  “It’s a fine name, and it suits him well,” Gali said, rising and passing a needle through the flames. “I’ll need to sew a tear, but the area has been treated, and you shouldn’t feel any pain.”

  “I trust you, Gali. Will it heal well?”

  “If you keep it
clean and apply the ointment that I’ll blend. I’ve known many women who’ve gotten an infection after childbirth. You must stay clean.”

  “I will,” Zeta said.

  As Gali began tending the wounds, she cringed. Setting the needle aside, she reached inside again, picking debris from the battered cavity. After another thorough pass, she washed the area, noticing the unnatural size of her swollen opening. This isn’t from the delivery, Gali thought. Some damage was evident before Zeta had given birth. She shook her head, suturing the opening, and placing more stitches than should’ve been necessary.

  “Zeta, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, anything.”

  “Earlier, I noticed blood on the floor in the kitchen. Did you fall?”

  Tears filled Zeta’s eyes as visions of Oxilon invaded her mind. She wiped the imagined, lingering bile from her mouth, tasting it now as if it were fresh on her tongue. “Yes...yes, I fell in the kitchen.”

  “And the tray of food and mug in the main room? Are those yours, too?”

  “Yes, they’re mine. My masters told me to rest while they were gone so that I could serve upon their return.”

  “I see,” Gali said, gathering up the soiled bedding and cloth. “I’ve finished tending your wound, and will wash up and make something to treat your throat. I’ve noticed that you have trouble speaking.” She walked to the door, looking over her shoulder. “I’ll also make a poultice for your face. Surely, you’d want those fresh bruises and wounds on your mouth to heal quickly.”

  Zeta gasped as she touched her face. She’d forgotten about her injuries while delivering Raithym. As she slid her hand over her mouth again, the dried blood flaked away, drifting down on her son’s blanket. Her tears began anew, brushing them away, and praying that the memories of Oxilon’s abuse could be removed as easily.

  Raithym had fallen asleep by the time Gali returned. She carried a full basket and a cup of steaming broth when she entered the room.

  “You have to pat him gently on the back to free any air after he’s fed. For now, place him on the bed and I’ll help you dress. I also brought fresh drinking water and food. After I leave, you should secure the door and return to bed. Everything you’ll need will be at your bedside, Zeta. You need to rest more than anything now. Come, let me help you up so that we can get you dressed.”

 

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