by Katy Winter
He was given new clothing. The loose pants he wore were of a lighter material and gathered into cuffs over which the boy wore light riding boots. Kher was with Luton when the boy tried on two pair of boots, before he found ones that were comfortable. He had large feet. When Luton pulled off his worn and broken sandals, Kher stooped and picked them up, looked at them, then quietly threw them away. The warrior carefully lifted one of the boy's feet. At the sight of the badly scarred sole Kher looked intently at Luton, who in turn looked nervously down at the ground.
"Walking in the caravan?" Kher asked coolly, placing the foot back on the ground.
Luton nodded. He hastily selected a third pair of boots that were comfortable and pulled them on. It was when the boy washed that the warriors saw the severity of scarring on the painfully thin shoulders, but they saw the scars much more clearly when Kher, after only a couple of days, made Luton strip off his torn and disreputable shirt. When he stooped, naked to the hips, to receive the blouson from one of the other warriors, Luton didn't see the haskar's face. Kher stared at the young body. He folded his lips into a tight line and made no comment. He could tell the boy still suffered discomfort, because Luton always wore his tops loose so they didn't unnecessarily touch his back. Kher now understood why Luton flinched when a hand neared him. Luton looked at the garment and nodded his curly head at Kher in way of expressing gratitude.
In those early days, Luton had his hair cut. When Kher sat him on an upturned cask, the large hand that held him felt the tremors run through the passive figure seated there. The hand was quickly removed. Once Luton knew what Kher was going to do, he just stayed obediently while his curls were clipped back off his face and shoulders.
Kher turned him round, saying in a satisfied voice, "Now you look much better, boy."
Luton rose promptly when ordered to and stood still as he always did. Kher moved away from the boy, absently threw the cut curls on to the fire, then looked back to the still standing figure. He waved dismissal. He watched the youth walk away from him, noticing that, in only ten days, the boy no longer stooped or hunched but held himself erect. He bent his head less, but wouldn't make eye contact unless forced to, was properly clean and not quite so distressingly emaciated. Nor was the boy's face paper white. He had an interest in learning anything he could.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
One morning, Kher found the boy had picked up a book left lying around. When he asked Luton if he enjoyed reading, he saw a faint flicker in the boy's black eyes in response - taking that as a positive sign, the haskar began to teach the boy about the south. Luton was still very timid and startled easily, the fear and dread never far away, but at least, Kher thought, they weren't ever present. The frailty remained. That, Kher knew, he couldn't remedy because fever left its victims that way.
After a few weeks, Luton began to look graceful on horseback and it was apparent to all the warriors the boy had a deep affinity for the animals. Whenever he could be, Luton was with the horses, grooming them and stroking them. The Churchik warriors, under strict orders, left him alone.
Kher dismounted late one afternoon, signalling with his hand that they had travelled far enough. Everyone halted. Turning around in the saddle, Luton looked behind him to the receding Dakhilah mountains. As they rose steeply against the horizon, Luton thought they looked menacing rather than grand. The comfort of the dense forest dwindling into attractive copses and meadows was gone, because they now rode across plains that swept endlessly in all directions, beyond where the boy could see. He acknowledged they covered ground very quickly and as he turned back in the direction they travelled, his guts contracted with a twist of apprehension. He was coming ever closer to the man he knew could crush his mind as though it were a fragile shell.
With an effort, he looked across at Kher who wasn't paying any attention to either Luton or the warriors. The warrior lord had tethered his horse at a clump of bushes and was staring across the plains, his brow puckered into a frown as he squinted into the low-lying sun. The other Churchik had tethered their horses likewise and lazily stretched. One of them, Han by name, looked up at Luton still astride his horse.
"Off your horse, boy," he said with authority. "You have work to do."
Luton started, immediately slid to the ground and led his horse to the shrubbery. As he set to caring for the horses, he kept an eye on Kher who seemed to be looking for something. Finally, the haskar turned and sharply ordered camp set before he turned to watch Luton water the horses. He spoke abruptly.
"You will sleep in my unsel tonight." Luton froze. He couldn't move. His eyes were wild and alienated. Kher eyed him and frowned. "Stop what you are doing and come here," he commanded curtly. Luton approached Kher with such reluctance the haskar strode over to him and pulled him close. "What do you think I will do to you?" Kher asked, in tones of annoyance and exasperation, his riding crop under Luton's chin to make the boy look up at him. The scared eyes caught the warrior completely by surprise. Then, suddenly, he understood. "I believe you will be safer, that is all. A mattress will be placed well apart from mine."
Kher walked away to the other warriors. He watched the boy from a distance. As soon as the haskar was back with his men Luton lifted his head, a hand brushed across his eyes and he stood irresolute for some moments, as if, in some way, he tried to regain poise and balance. Quietly, he moved back to the horses.
Kher stooped, pulled a waterskin from the saddlebags he'd thrown on the ground and drank deeply and thoughtfully. Han glanced over at Luton.
"What frightened him, my lord?"
"Me," came the grim answer. Kher looked at the younger warrior with a half-smile. "I think I know one reason why he is so scared of us."
"Why, my lord?"
Kher took another draught from the skin and absently handed it to Han, saying, "He has been brutally raped by warriors at some stage." Han looked across at Kher astonished.
"He cannot think all warriors -." He broke off when he saw Kher's upper lip curl.
"Can he not, Acedar? What other experience does he have?"
"None, my lord." Kher was deeply reflective.
"It is not just that either." He tapped his boot with his riding crop, while he studied the tall slight figure spreading covers over the horses. "Something happened to him in his own city that made him close to mindless." He shrugged. "Perhaps we shall know, perhaps not, but at least we are one step closer to understanding him."
"Why does the sorcerer want him, my lord?" Kher looked at the acedar with an odd lift to the corner of his mouth.
"What makes you think he confides in me? The warlord has placed me at Blach's service in the meantime. I do what I am asked."
Abashed, Han plugged the waterskin and put it back carefully in the haskar's saddlebag. Then he turned away and busied himself, while Kher stood thinking. Once camp was struck and food was cooked, Kher idly watched Luton as the boy patiently waited to be given food.
When Lus handed Luton a plate, Kher said indifferently, "Sit with us this evening, boy."
Luton stared down at him with his eyes wide, swallowed hard, but obediently sank where he stood. He made no attempt to eat; he just sat cross-legged with the plate on the ground in front of him.
"Eat, boy," Lus ordered, pointing at the plate.
Nervously, Luton picked it up and began to eat, every so often looking about him uneasily, then when no one moved and ignored him, his shoulders untensed and his eating became more relaxed. The warriors stretched and yawned. Lus pushed his plate to one side and rolled onto his stomach with a sigh. Han lounged back on his elbows, unconsciously imitating Kher, while Abek and Emil leaned back to back, their legs stretched out and their eyes closed. Kher half-closed his eyes too, but he was watching Luton. The warrior had learned to read the boy's eyes long ago.
Luton looked at each warrior in turn. Kher saw nervous curiosity as the black eyes roved from face to face and wondered how this frail, slender youth would cope with belonging to the sorcerer. Kher su
spected the boy's mind would be touched and for some reason that disturbed him. He'd been instructed to bring the boy as quickly as possible, making sure the boy was undamaged. Kher was doing that to the best of his ability but knew he couldn't present Luton whole. The boy was irreparably harmed beyond anything Kher could do for him. He accepted the boy had been abused by warriors; that was almost inevitable as a casualty of war with the Churchik. Other boys endured the same, but they didn't react with such helpless and pitiful terror. No, Kher thought, there was something else.
Kher's eyes closed. As he let his mind drift, he wondered if perhaps Luton had witnessed - Kher's eyes snapped open. He looked across at Luton who'd rolled onto his side and plucked at the grass.
"Boy," said Kher, very gently. Luton looked up, his eyes wary. "Who did you watch die and how did they die?"
Han and Lus tensed. Abek and Emil weren't asleep either, their eyes opening and closing quickly.
Luton didn't move. He looked at Kher in sheer horror, his mouth open and working soundlessly. Then, without being aware of it, he was on his feet and running blindly. He may have lacked stamina but he was extremely fleet-footed. Though he heard movement behind him he didn't care and put a hand to his throat because he felt he choked and couldn't breathe. Memories he'd forced away flooded his consciousness and he knew he cried.
The horse behind didn't catch up with him. It paced him. He swerved, still running blind. The horse followed him. He realised he was being allowed to run and that he'd be left to run until he dropped. He accepted defeat and came to a trembling halt, hands up to his head in an effort to push back the terrible screams that re-echoed in his brain and drove him close to madness. Sweat dripped from him while, hunched, he waited for the whip to fall.
It didn't. Instead, Kher drew up the horse next to Luton, the warrior extending a hand down to the boy. Weakly, Luton took it, only to feel a strong arm haul him up onto the horse and fling him onto his stomach, where he still lay motionless when the horse came to a halt, then, when Lus pulled the boy from the saddle, Luton curled up on the ground. He took a goblet pushed insistently at his hands and, as usual, obeyed the command to drink. He heard Kher's voice, somewhere near him.
"It does not matter, boy. Let be, just let be." The haskar seemed to be a long way away. Luton heard the voice again. "Forget, boy, try to forget."
He felt that strange warmth spread through him and the trembling stopped. Lifted in very strong arms he tried to fight, but he felt the onset of creeping, numbing tiredness and knew he was laid down and a cloak spread over him. As Luton drifted asleep, Kher stood and looked down at the white, tear-stained face. He glanced at the warriors, his expression grim and forbidding.
"I guess we know why he is so afraid of Churchik warriors, do we not?" He added more to himself than to the others, "I wonder what he was forced to see, or do, that he should react so."
~~~
When Luton woke he felt relaxed and warm. He stared above him, saw he was covered with a warm cloak and was lying partly under a bush. He noticed early evening had passed. Yawning, he stretched and looked around him to see the warriors in a group, in the failing light, some distance from him. He sat nervously, not sure what to do because his memory was a little hazy. Abek noticed the movement first.
"My lord," he said quietly. "The boy is awake."
"Leave him," was the curt reply. "See what he does."
Luton got to his feet and folded the cloak. He stood irresolute with the cloak under one arm, then he walked very tentatively to where the warriors sat and looked at them. No one spoke. Luton stood there, looking from one to the other in confusion. Unexpectedly, he went around the younger warriors to Kher where he knelt, head down and the cloak first held out, then placed carefully by the older man. Kher stared at him in considerable surprise that deepened when a trembling finger touched his left cuff. Blue eyes met dark ones. Luton pointed with his other hand out to the plains and shook his head. Kher continued to look at the boy, his face expressionless.
Abek said very quietly, "Strange though this may seem, my lord, but I think the boy is trying to apologise." Kher didn't move. His eyes held the dark ones.
"Are you?" he asked. The head nodded. "Why?" Luton pointed to the plains, to himself, then to Kher. "Is it because you promised not to run from us?" The head nodded once, then drooped. "Look at me, boy." Luton lifted his head, but wouldn't meet the blue eyes. "I gave you an order." Kher, likewise, spoke very quietly. Black eyes met his reluctantly and held once more. "Are you listening to me?" The head nodded. "You will not be hurt unless you do something to warrant it. I accept your apology - you were very badly frightened, were you not?" Kher saw the answer in sad eyes. "We shall forget it. How old are you?" Luton looked away, shrugging helplessly. "How old were you at home?" Luton counted on his fingers to twelve.
Kher gestured to the boy that he get to his feet and Luton stood there, one booted foot scuffing the ground. Kher nodded at him.
"You may do as you wish until it is time to sleep. Do not wander far and remember you are to sleep in my unsel." Luton nodded, before drifting rather aimlessly away from the warriors.
"Emil," said Kher softly.
"My lord?"
"Do not let him out of your sight."
"No, my lord." Emil stretched and rose noiselessly.
"Han."
"My lord?"
"You will take guard tonight."
Han nodded and then lazed back on to the long grass. Kher got to his feet, walked over to his unsel and threw himself down on one of the mattresses, reflectively closing his eyes. When a tall figure crept past him and sank silently to the second mattress, a smile touched the haskar's now opened eyes. The boy removed his boots and clothes. Kher heard him pull cloaks about himself. Very soon the warrior heard deep and regular breathing and finally, Kher allowed himself to go to sleep.
Travelling across the plains was a monotonous exercise, though Kher thought the boy found it restful. Kher set a watch every night. In the distance Luton often saw a solitary rider, sometimes a small group of them, but no one came near the Churchik. Luton sensed a degree of tension in all five men and wondered idly if he would reach any of these groups of riders, only to abandon the thought. The warriors were more than a match for him.
Luton accepted these men intended him no harm. He realised Kher cared for him and that helped him to relax more each day. He still never smiled and his trust was devastated, but he no longer moved about in fear and the Churchik saw clarity in the black eyes in place of the clouded look that was always there. He ate with the warriors and curled up next to Kher of an evening without a second thought.
He was now very tall and hadn't stopped growing, nor had the boy got any heavier. Looking at the boy one evening, Kher again felt unease grip him when he thought what the sorcerer would most likely do to Luton. The frown that came to his face deepened and his look at the boy was tinged with regret and not a little compassion. Luton was sprawled not far away, on his stomach, his head rested on his arms in an attitude of rest, and because the boy had an obvious preference for solitude the warriors continued to leave him alone. Kher continued to study the long body, realising that the way the boy lay was one of Luton's most typical poses. That way he could stretch limbs that raised him to a height taller than Kher and all but Abek, who was six feet five inches tall without boots. There the resemblance with the Churchik ended.
Luton was still almost transparent, though he now ate well and was unafraid to show hunger. Kher doubted the boy would ever fill what should have been a large frame, the breadth of Luton's shoulders an indication of what he would, under normal circumstances, have developed into as a mature man.
Kher thought the thin face most attractive, the big black eyes expressive though haunted, the rebellious black curls that clustered thickly about the head and neck shiny and soft to the touch. Had Luton not been so shattered by his experiences, the haskar considered he would have been a very strikingly handsome boy. Without the physical fr
ailty and with animation, Luton would have been so different. Kher felt the wrench he always experienced when he looked at this enigma of a boy and felt again a tug at his heart.
"Luton," he called softly, watching the dark head come up and turn questioningly towards him. Kher beckoned. Luton hauled himself to his feet, to crouch down beside the haskar who pointed at the ground. Obediently, the boy lounged beside Kher, his head tilted. "Would you like me to read you some more, boy?" Luton looked expectantly at the haskar, which Kher took for assent.
He quietly reached behind him and lifted a heavy bound volume into his lap, opening it to find the place they'd reached the evening before. As Kher began to read, he was aware of the boy stretched out again on his stomach, his chin in his hands and a faraway look in the black eyes. The haskar felt the boy's pleasure and sensed how relaxed Luton was. With a satisfied smile, he continued to read.
Luton stayed still, his eyes occasionally flickering from the haskar to the other warriors who sat around gambling amiably. Had he been asked, he would have said he felt about Kher as he did for Autchek. Both men treated him with care and affection and, though Luton was too devastated to properly respond, he yearned to. Fear of retribution held him back. This night, however, when the light became too faint for the haskar to keep reading outside, Luton very tentatively leaned forward as Kher closed the volume and touched the haskar on the arm. Kher stayed motionless as the boy's thin hand went nervously to the warrior's left hand, lifted it, and touched the hand to his mouth, brushing it against his lips before he gently placed the hand back in the haskar's lap. Black eyes looked into haskar blue. The haskar saw in Luton's the utter terror of reprisal. He knew what it cost the boy to make the gesture and came close to weeping for the tragedy that was Luton.