“You do not know, do you?” Kasha asked quietly, seeing the uncertainty on his face.
“Know what?”
“You jest. Oh, I am so happy you returned to save us.” At that, she ran towards him and grabbed him in a tight hug.
After the initial surprise, he returned her embrace, but Kasha’s earlier words had brought a new hope to him. “Aneh’s okay then?” he asked. “Was she hurt?”
Pulling herself away, Kasha gave a mischievous look as she replied, “Still besotted with her are you?”
“No,” Michael said instinctively. Then remembering what he had admitted to himself in his vision, “Well…” Wait, no, he wasn’t going to tell Aneh’s sister about his feelings. “Look, just answer me will you?”
Kasha laughed out loud before finally responding. “All who stayed were hurt,” she said, now growing serious again. “Aneh’s injuries were minor thanks to you, but she has tired her body in offering healing to others. She rests now before resuming her duties.”
Relief flooded him as he heard that Aneh hadn’t been seriously injured. The realisation that he had saved her made his eyes water, and he closed them briefly, strangely not caring if Kasha noticed his tears.
***
After that, they spoke of inconsequential things. Michael’s head was already spinning with too many questions – questions that Kasha couldn’t answer – and so he asked about the Stay, how long they had been here, and when they would be moving on. Kasha was happy to oblige, her natural talent for talking almost without taking a breath comfortably filling the time.
After breakfast Kasha then informed Michael that he was to meet with the Lora.
“I’d like to see Aneh first,” he said. Even suggesting his need to see Kasha’s sister brought nerves to his chest, and he fought excitement with arguments to downplay his expectations. What will she think? She’s certain to be Entwined with someone.
But his reunion with Aneh would have to wait as Kasha shook her head. “She still sleeps, and the Lora insisted that you come immediately after breakfast.”
Michael just nodded, hoping to hide the disappointment on his face. But he suspected he had failed when Kasha again smirked.
He thought he would find his way to the Lora’s tent easily enough. He had seen it in the centre of the camp the previous afternoon, and was sure he would be able to navigate his way there, but he accepted Kasha’s offer to take him. He had been dreading this moment, and so was happy for the company that would take his mind away from the judgement Arevu was sure to give for betraying them many moons before.
When he had decided to return to give the Elahish the warning they needed, he had known this time would come. And he had succeeded in his purpose. No, he had surpassed what he had expected, for he had saved Aneh. Any price was worth paying for that knowledge, so if the Lora decided to imprison him or worse, then so be it.
Arriving at the tent, Kasha wished him well, leaving him waiting outside the entrance flaps. There were no guards today, but before entering Michael paused, looking at the ground where only marks before had lain a wreckage of human bodies. The ground was still covered with their blood: blood that Michael had been responsible for spilling. Again he felt ill as he recalled his ruthless brutality, committed in order to save, and he finally turned his face away, entering the arena where his judgement would be served.
His eyes quickly adjusted to the lower light levels, allowing him to recognise the faces that were staring at him. He noticed that there were only seven present, and Michael wondered whether those who were absent had been victims of the previous afternoon’s raid or whether there was another reason. He was pleased to see Lohka there. He already knew that she had survived the attack many moons before as Kasha had spoken of her earlier in the morning. Arevu’s face also gazed at his. But there was no Berah, and Michael felt guilt for being pleased that one who had consistently argued he was a traitor – indeed had attempted to serve his perceived justice with a dagger – was absent; not knowing whether it was because of an unhappy death from the creatures Michael had unwittingly attracted.
But there was one more face there that Michael hadn’t expected to see. The bright red eyes that stared at him hung above a broad grin, and Michael returned Jixi’s smile as his friend walked to stand at his side.
“I was worried about you,” he said as the Nixu got closer.
“I did not… fight,” replied Jixi.
“Yes, but… well. What you did for me,” Michael explained, “I was worried that nature would require a balance. Isn’t that what you said?”
“I did nothing,” insisted Jixi.
Michael was aware of the eyes in the tent staring at him, but he ignored them. He remembered his own assumptions when he had first seen the Nixu and worried that the Elahish would consider them dangerous; that perhaps Jixi too was here on trial. He wanted to ensure that they knew of Jixi’s part in saving Aneh and the rest of the Waylet, so that they would know he was no threat to them.
“Jixi, tell them,” he said, “You somehow slowed down time, didn’t you? Or something like that anyway. I wouldn’t have been able to… do what I did if you hadn’t done that.”
But his friend’s countenance didn’t change as again he repeated. “I did nothing.”
“Well, someone did,” Michael said, “and it wasn’t me.”
“Are you sure?” Arevu’s voice now interrupted.
Her words surprised Michael, but before he could respond, she continued, “How would you know that it was not you who slowed the world?”
He paused, not sure how to reply before saying, “I wouldn’t have thought it was the sort of thing you could do by accident. To be honest, all I wanted to do was somehow reach Aneh before…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, allowing the meaning to hang in the air.
There was silence for a moment before Arevu nodded to Lohka. As Aneh’s mother began to speak, her expression was more readable. She had always been kind to him, and he had saved her daughter’s life, so her gentle smile was no surprise, though her words were.
“When you arrived amongst us in our Autumn Stay, you were attacked by three Chet’tu. Do you remember?” she asked.
It was the only time he had seen Aneh afraid. They had been saved by Shosa, and afterwards Peran had claimed him. “Yeah,” he replied, “I remember.”
“How did you escape them?” she enquired.
“The Shosa came,” he said, unsure where this line of discussion was going.
“Before the Shosa came,” Lohka insisted, “How did you escape them?”
“We jumped in the river.”
“But the Chet’tu had already leapt for you,” she continued, “And Aneh reported that you took her into the water with you.”
“Well, yeah, of course I did. I wouldn’t have left her,” he insisted.
Lohka now smiled again, “I have not explained well. Aneh later told me that one moment she was on the rock, and the next she was in the river.”
He couldn’t understand the implications of what she was saying and shook his head, opening and then closing his mouth.
“Did you feel ill afterwards?” she asked.
“The Chet’tu had just caught my foot as we jumped,” he said. “I think its poison made me nauseous.”
Lohka now shook her head as she responded, “Our tales relate that the venom of the Chet’tu will give you chills and will weaken you. Ultimately it may end your life, but to our knowledge it does not bring nausea.”
He was trying to think of how to phrase his question when she continued, “And yesterday, at the end. You again felt nausea.”
She had said it as a statement of fact rather than a question, but he nodded, eventually asking, “I’d never killed anyone before, so of course I felt nauseous. I still do, just thinking about it. Why is that important anyway?”
Arevu again spoke now, “On rare occasions, when a child begins to learn of his Weaving, such feelings of nausea accompany use of his gift. Or hers, of co
urse. It usually only occurs when their Weaving develops late, or if it is particularly powerful. As both of these apply to you, it should not be surprising.”
Michael was still unsure what was being suggested and just stared. What is she talking about? I don’t have a Weaving.
Continuing, she said, “Together with the witnesses, that is sufficient evidence, but this Nixu has also told us of you.”
Michael looked down at Jixi, his confusion building. He wanted to be annoyed with his small friend, but found the wide smile that was aimed at him somehow disarming, “Well, all he told me was that I was necessary, whatever that means, so I’d love to know what he’s said.”
“He has only confirmed what we already had come to know,” Arevu replied, “Michael, you are a Time Weaver.”
***
They discussed it at length after that. He couldn’t have done anything with time. He would have known, he insisted. But they countered that when young, children almost always stumble upon their Weaving and need it to be pointed out to them. Their first attempts are inevitably accidents.
But nothing had happened between the incident with the Chet’tu and yesterday, he insisted. If his Weaving was developing, there would have been more occurrences. Was he sure there had been no other occasions, they asked? Had there been no other instances where he had inexplicably avoided detection, or got past an enemy? If he hadn’t realised that time had slowed when the Chet’tu attacked, there could be other instances he hadn’t noticed.
And so it went: he would argue why he couldn’t be a Time Weaver, and one or more of the Lora would explain why his argument was flawed. By the end, he gave up arguing with them. He still didn’t believe it, but he was getting nowhere.
All in all, though, he was pleased that he was being accepted; that he hadn’t been judged a traitor for the circumstances surrounding his departure moons before. Whether that was purely due to the events of the previous night or his alleged Time Weaving or other reasons he didn’t know. But he would enquire about that later.
“Well, whatever the case,” he said, “Really I’m just glad I got here and most of the Waylet are okay.”
Arevu nodded her agreement, “Your arrival was fortuitous. We have never been assaulted so directly before, and never even seen such a large force from the city. To gather five hundred men together, and so far from Aperocalsa, is unheard of.”
Everyone agreed sagely with the Hafashal’s statement, when her words suddenly struck alarm in Michael.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “Did you say five hundred?”
“Yes,” she replied, “it was a large force.”
“No,” he said, the panic again starting to rise in him, “But the Guardian didn’t send five hundred.”
He stared intently into Arevu’s eyes, “He sent five thousand.”
The silence that now enveloped the room was quickly palpable, as the understanding of what Michael said slowly sunk in. Yesterday’s attack had been just small portion of the Guardian’s army: a small advance force sent to only test the Elahish defences.
The main army was still on its way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:
Folly
It is only when a man finally confronts the reality of his own impending death that the things of greatest import are revealed to his soul. Thus each dawn of his life, he should treat as his last. For in doing so, he will hold as his treasures those things that have true worth.
From the Wisdom of Ashael
***
The next dawn was spent with the Waylet breaking camp. There were many injured who would have benefitted from a longer rest, but that choice was no longer available.
They also held a burial ceremony for those who had been killed: almost forty in total. Michael stayed away from the service, still knowing that if he had arrived even ten minutes sooner, their lives may have been spared. His guilt kept him in his own thoughts for the two marks or so that the others memorialised their lost friends and family.
At the same time, scouts were sent to establish the distance of Jashmarael’s main army. When he had revealed who the Guardian really was, there had been some doubt amongst the Lora. But Jixi confirmed his belief and the Lora eventually accepted it, though many struggled with their new understanding.
The scouts returned by the time the daylight was departing, relating that the huge army had been split into three groups. They were heading towards them from three angles, thus preventing their escape to the north, east or west, and were no more than two dawns from arriving.
“If they’re not behind us, we can just go that way, can’t we? Head south?” Michael asked.
He was helping Aneh’s father, Hurala, gather their things together for their impending journey. He still hadn’t seen Aneh. His frustration with the situation had grown, and he found throwing himself into work helping Hurala provided just enough distraction.
“Our escape south is prevented by Tarellin’s Folly,” he answered. “It is a gorge that is deeper than the eye can see.”
“Well, that figures,” muttered Michael, “I guess Jashmarael thought this through. And I guess there aren’t any bridges we can cross, or that we can go around it?”
Hurala shook his head, “It would take us perhaps four dawns to go around it, and the Guardian’s forces will be upon us by then. A bridge once traversed it,” he explained, “wide enough for a score of people to cross abreast. On the far side, there was a city, but it was destroyed with the others a thousand summers past along with the bridge.”
Michael knew that meant their options were limited: meaning they didn’t have any that held promise. Though Jashmarael’s force was split in three, each was still over one and a half thousand strong, so attempting to take on any one of them in order to gain freedom in that direction would be suicide. Michael had asked Jixi about hidden tunnels they could use, but the nearest was the one the two of them had come through, and heading in that direction would lead them straight to the Guardian’s force to the east.
That only left the south, and it now transpired that an impassable gorge lay in that direction. But if nothing else, travelling to the gorge would buy them time. While they wouldn’t be able to go around it, they could search for rock slides down its sides that opened new paths. If that failed, then praying for a miracle would be their last hope.
He therefore wasn’t surprised when it was announced that the Lora had decided they would head towards the gorge. The people accepted the judgement without complaint, though Michael suspected they knew that there they would be trapped.
And thus it was that the Elahish of the Southern Waylet spent one final night sleeping under the stars before fleeing from their Spring Stay. Michael had initially wondered why they didn’t leave immediately, travelling through the night. But there were the elderly and infirm; and of course many still recovering from injuries inflicted by swords. They could not be rushed, and would likely slow them down even more if they added weariness on top of their afflictions.
In truth, Michael too was glad for the extra night’s rest. More importantly, however, he finally managed to see Aneh when he joined their family for their evening meal under the starry skies, their stone table not yet packed away.
As he drew near, his eyes were drawn immediately to hers as she sat at the stone table, and he froze in place. He had seen her briefly as she fought Jashmarael’s soldiers, but as he looked on her face now, he found his heartbeat racing; his lungs crying for more oxygen. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered.
Neither said a word as Aneh stood and walked to him. Their embrace was strong, and Michael closed his eyes, hoping that the feeling of her clasp would last forever.
“Oh, you two!” cried Kasha. “Will you just kiss?”
“Kasha, stop it,” said Lohka, though Hurala laughed, apparently agreeing with his younger daughter.
But Kasha’s words had broken the spell, and they released each other, taking their seats around the stone table for their meal.
They didn’t wander far from the edge of the camp. The Waylet had selected men and women to patrol the adjacent woods for Jashmarael’s spies, but still they couldn’t be certain that one wouldn’t get through. So they stayed nearby, just far enough from the nearest set of sleeping rugs so that they could talk in private.
“So,” Michael said tentatively, “you’ve not Entwined.”
He looked away, too nervous to see her reaction. When she said nothing, he looked back. Her head was cocked to one side, carrying a gentle smile as she studied his face.
He tried to smile in return, but it was awkward. “I thought Devu probably would have won you over by now.”
She laughed. “Devu has given up.” Then as she saw the question in Michael’s face, she added, “I told you that I would not Entwine with him. I am not so easily swayed.”
A sense of relief flooded over him, as he realised that Aneh was still Promised to no-one.
“Actually, I thought you were dead,” Michael finally said. “Jashmarael said… well, he said some awful things and I believed him. I was sure that you were dead, and it was all my fault.”
“How was it your fault if the Chet’tu had taken my life?” Aneh asked, “You are not responsible for their actions.”
“No, but they were after me. I still don’t know why, but they were. So if it hadn’t been for me, you would have been safe.”
They were silent again as they studied the sky, pondering each other’s words.
Aneh sighed. “Still you cannot see why Jashmarael seeks your capture or death?” she asked.
Though it was night, the stars were on display, and the moon just over half-full. Its glimmering rays were shining through the trees’ branches overhead, just giving the couple enough light by which to see each other, and Aneh could see Michael shake his head in response to her question.
Dreams and Shadows (The Aylosian Chronicles Book 1) Page 37