“I see. So, you don’t believe in your Mother Turklyo selecting the best family and keeping them in power?” Egill asked.
Swift Shot shook her head. “Nope. Lineage means nothing except which tipi you sleep in at night.”
“I see.”
“Egill, stop interrupting!” Swift Shot shouted.
Egill held up his hands in surrender.
“Thank you,” Swift Shot said. “Anyway, Two Dogs was only ten when he earned his second eagle feather. The hunters were gone. A herd of turklyos had been spotted earlier in the day. Herds are rare; rarer today because of the Corlains.”
Swift Shot spat on the dirt floor. Egill laughed and tried to mimic her. His spit was thick with residue from his fermented drink. It practically clung to his face. He wiped his mouth with his forearm. Swift Shot cracked up with laughter. Egill didn’t seem bothered. He simply flagged a friend to bring a pitcher of honey ferm. He quickly topped off Swift Shot’s mug, then his own.
“Good man,” Swift Shot said. “Where was I?”
“The hunters were gone for the day following a turklyo herd,” Two Dogs said.
“Thank you. It’s important to note that hunter and warrior are interchangeable terms. The only ones left in the village were the children and the softer mages.”
“Softer mages?” Egill asked.
“You know, healers, farmers, crafters; the people who aren’t very good in a fight,” Swift Shot said.
“I see,” Egill said as he rubbed his chin.
“Despite what you may think, not all of Mother Turklyo’s children get along. Just like any family, we fight. In those days, the Esquit and the Lacreechee weren’t fond of one another.”
“Why not?”
Swift Shot shrugged. “Who can ever remember? We might have hunted on their land. They may have stolen an important bride. Sometimes we just want a good fight. The point is, while our warriors were gone, a few Esquits decided to attack the village. The Esquits are known for their shifting magic. Often, they’ll transform into wolves, bears, or owls. They’re all fierce animals but not much of a match against a protector or an elementalist. Anyway, they transformed into owls and screeched before diving on the Lacreechee left behind.”
“You’re telling it wrong!” Two Dogs shouted. “They didn’t shift into owls; they were bears. Six bears attacked our village.”
“Really? I was four. I don’t remember it well. That’s why you should be telling the story,” Swift Shot said with a smile, indicating she knew her version was inaccurate.
“Please continue,” Egill said.
He leaned closer to Swift Shot. His fresh mug of honey ferm remained untasted in his right hand.
“A few of the women were mauled. We all gathered in the center of the village. Some of the adults tried to fight them off, but the chief at the time had foolishly sent everyone to ensure we brought back as many turklyos, and their igsidian, as possible. We gathered and waited for death.”
“What did Two Dogs do?” Egill asked.
He rubbed his palms on his pants. He was truly engaged in the story.
“Two Dogs had an older brother named Proud Wall. Proud Wall was gone with the hunters, but Two Dogs idolized his brother. Proud Wall’s name should tell you how strong his barrier magic was. Two Dogs tried to copy him,” Swift Shot said.
“I didn’t copy him,” Two Dogs complained. “Proud Wall showed me how to do a few simple spells. I just practiced them a lot.”
Two Dogs wiped a tear.
“He practiced enough that he erected a dome strong enough to keep the Esquits out. For over an hour, they banged on the barrier.”
“It wasn’t that long.”
“Two Dogs, will you let me finish the damn story?”
“Stop exaggerating.”
“Stop interrupting.”
Two Dogs and Swift Shot stared at each other. He finally gave up and stood.
“Long, and inaccurate story, short, I held the barrier until the earliest hunters returned. The Esquits left, and the village was saved. Yay me.”
“I can’t believe the incident didn’t leave him lame,” Swift Shot said.
“Lame?” Egill asked.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Two Dogs said. He turned his attention to Egill. “Lame is what we call it when one of Mother Turklyo’s children loses his or her gift.”
“You can run out of magic?” Egill asked, leaving his mouth open. “Permanently?”
Two Dogs solemnly nodded. “Sometimes a mage gets his or her gifts back but not often.”
“Thankfully, that wasn’t the problem all those years ago. I’d be dead without Two Dogs. A lot of—” Swift Shot ended her statement abruptly. “Anyway, he passed out shortly after. It took three full days for him to wake. We thought he was dead. Magic isn’t endless, but for some reason, Two Dogs seems to be able to fight longer than any of us. Honestly, his name should be Ten Dogs or Dog Pack by now. It’s inspiring.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Egill shouted as he raised his cup. “Just another reason to prove I’m your man.”
Swift Shot cheerfully clinked her mug against his. They both swallowed the full contents. Egill tilted his pitcher and topped them off.
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Two Dogs asked.
“By what?” Egill asked, then belched.
“Being our man?” Two Dogs answered.
Egill shrugged. “In Vikisoteland, honor drives everything. The gods demand that it does. To let someone help you, like save your life, then ignore them is the epitome of being honorless. I could no more turn my axe on you than I could the gods. I mean that.”
Despite his deadpan delivery, Two Dogs couldn’t keep himself from snickering. This forced Swift Shot to laugh. Egill looked momentarily confused but then joined the laughter. Two Dogs rose from the bench.
“I need to speak with someone,” he said.
Swift Shot dismissed him with her fingers as she continued to share the laugh with Egill. Before Two Dogs got out of ear range, he heard Egill ask a question.
“Do you think he might marry Queen Murid?”
“I’m working on it,” Swift Shot answered.
Two Dogs shook his head. He was the master of his own destiny, and he wouldn’t be manipulated by anyone.
Two Dogs meandered through the throngs of drunken Vikisotes. A few tried to push a mug of honey ferm, but he politely declined. He looked forward to Swift Shot announcing her corn ferm was ready. That was assuming she’d share in the first place. It was never a guarantee with Swift Shot and her ferm.
Two Dogs eventually stood before his target, Faida. She seemed as sober as he, but her scowl told him she wasn’t pleased he wanted to speak with her.
“I have nothing to say to you, savage.”
“That’s fine. I’ll say what I must to you and be on my way.”
Faida crossed her arms and continued to scowl. Two Dogs forced himself to relax. He had to make an ally of this woman. He would do that, whether she wanted him to or not.
“I’m sorry about what happened to your king,” Two Dogs said. “I know you did everything to save him.”
Faida harrumphed. “We don’t need King Hafoca anymore.”
Two Dogs raised an eyebrow to her blunt statement. “What?”
“King Hafoca wasn’t chosen by the gods. Queen Murid was. She’s the foreigner who survived a slaughter, just as the gods foretold.”
“I’m a foreigner who survived a massacre. That augury is loose with details.”
“Don’t presume to claim to be the chosen one. Queen Murid only tolerates you because she can use you to rally the Vikisotes. Don’t think I haven’t seen you throwing kissy eyes at my queen.”
Two Dogs clenched his fists. He had to grasp the fringe on his pants to keep from fingering his tomahawk. This woman was asking him to give her a close haircut.
“Listen, Faida, I’m trying to be civil, but don’t take that as a sign of weakness.”
“Y
ou don’t scare me, Namerian.”
Two Dogs’ blood boiled. He violently reached for Faida’s throat. A few Vikisotes nearby stiffened from his quick movement. Two Dogs gained control of his anger and closed his hands into tight fists, rather than around her neck.
“You don’t realize how close you just came to death,” Two Dogs said.
His voice was cold and hard. A moment of concern flashed in Faida’s eyes before her lips curled into a snicker.
“Did I hurt your feelings? I apologize. It wasn’t what I intended.” Faida’s laugh following her words proved it was exactly what she intended.
“I’m going to leave before I do something I can’t take back. But, before I go, you should remember one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve survived a far more recent massacre, and in my massacre the Corlains didn’t get to go home. You assume too much about your protection here.”
Two Dogs spun on his heels before Faida responded. He relished her silence. It sounded like she was about to speak. He turned to face his opponent. Before she said anything, a trio of teenagers swarmed her. They stank of crick oil and had bloodshot eyes.
“Faida! We need your help,” one said.
“What is it, Isak?” Faida asked.
She sniffed and showed concern. It was apparent Two Dogs had been completely forgotten.
“We—”
“You got into the crick oil, didn’t you!” Faida accused. “You know you’re too young for it!”
“We wanted to help in the fight with the Corlains, but Qadira and Vadik aren’t waking up.”
Faida’s eyes went wild with fear. Two Dogs stepped forward, but she violently threw her hands in his face.
“We don’t need you, Namerian. Isak, take me. We must hurry. You stupid children.”
Two Dogs stifled his anger as Faida raced away with the teens. It sounded serious, but she’d called him Namerian one too many times. She didn’t deserve his aid. Hell, she probably wouldn’t have allowed Ancestors’ Hand to do anything, anyway. He wanted to find something to break. Preferably, he could find more Corlains to kill. Swift Shot’s teasing and Faida’s ethnic slurs had destroyed any chance of him enjoying the evening. Two Dogs was about to storm out of the longhouse when a delicate hand rested on his right shoulder.
“Are you leaving so soon?” Murid asked.
Her voice instantly washed away his resentment and frustration. He turned to face the beautiful woman who had captured his thoughts and his heart. She must not have seen Faida leave in a rush, because her eyes lingered on his face. Or maybe she cared more about him than yet another problem.
“I think I desperately need some fresh air,” Two Dogs admitted.
“A splendid idea. Would you care to take a walk with me?”
Murid held out her hand. Two Dogs shook it.
“You’re silly. You know what I meant,” Murid said.
“Would it do for us to leave hand-in-hand in front of your subjects?”
“Half of them think we did the deed while covered in the blood of wild animals and dead Corlains. If by some strange chance I am pregnant, some will claim you to be the father.”
Two Dogs allowed himself to feel the warmth that thought brought. He would make a good husband to a woman like Murid. He would gladly bounce their daughter on his knee.
“I suppose there isn’t an issue then,” Two Dogs said.
He accepted her hand and allowed her to lead him out of the longhouse. The night air was crisp. Even in the summer, Vikisoteland could be quite cold, at least at night. Two Dogs expected to take one of the roads and stroll toward a gate. Murid surprised him when she cut behind a different longhouse. They wove through the ring fortress until the sounds of the celebration were barely a roar. Nobody else was outside. Most were in the celebration longhouse, but many had found reasons to inspect the sturdiness of the beds in others.
Two Dogs rubbed his shoulders. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For cooling me off.”
Murid smiled. “You looked like you needed it. Faida is a dear friend, but she can be overprotective and a bit old-fashioned in how she treats strangers darker than a cloud.”
So she had seen Faida, yet didn’t follow.
Two Dogs snorted laughter. “I fully understand. Ancestors’ Hand isn’t exactly making friends either.”
“What did you two speak about?” Murid asked.
“She wanted to upset me.”
“Clearly. And she succeeded. Was it about the prophecy?”
“Yes. Her prophecy, Ancestors’ Hand’s augury; they’re all turklyo shit. Nobody controls my destiny. Mother Turklyo gave me free will; I intend to use it.”
“I believe in the prophecy.”
“Your gods gave you free will too. I won’t judge you for believing in stories I ignore.”
“I didn’t say I believe I’m the chosen one. Faida has told me I was for many years, but I feel something should have happened by now.”
“Maybe we can share the title?” Two Dogs laughed. He’d expected Murid to laugh too, but she looked solemn.
“I think that’s exactly what we should do,” Murid said.
“Listen, I’ll help you kill as many Corlains as you want. I’ll live out my days in this ring fortress if I can add to my body count, but I don’t give liquid turklyo shit about your kingdom or your prophecy.” Murid took a step backward. She seemed upset. Two Dogs considered his words and softened his voice. “Look, I didn’t mean it like that. I care about your people. I don’t want any more to suffer like I have.”
Two Dogs considered his words, then whether he should explain why Faida ran off, but he didn’t want to lose this moment. It may have been selfish, but Murid could only help him now.
Murid nodded. “I understand. I know what you meant.” She held a hand on his cheek. Two Dogs closed his eyes and relished her touch. “Will you come to my bed tonight?”
Two Dogs considered her eyes. They wavered. She looked completely vulnerable. Two Dogs couldn’t hold back his feelings. He didn’t care if anyone saw. He grabbed Murid in a firm embrace and kissed her. She returned his kiss and held his head in her hands.
Two Dogs didn’t quite remember what path he took back to Murid’s longhouse. He wasn’t sure how their clothes suddenly left their bodies. He was positive it was the best night of his life.
He woke before she did and admired her body. Part of him wanted to wake her and bathe in her love, but he wasn’t sure what it would do to her reputation if people saw him leave her longhouse. It was still a few hours before dawn; he suspected he could make it to a random longhouse and claim he was too drunk to find his way back to his assigned one. He left in anger; even Swift Shot would believe he imbibed some honey ferm.
Unfortunately, Mother Turklyo loved a challenge. Ancestors’ Hand waited outside the longhouse. She smoked a pipe with green smoke trailing from it.
“Did you have fun?” Ancestors’ Hand asked.
She cackled like the hag she was. The sound of her laughter annoyed Two Dogs more than it angered him.
“Who I spend time with is none of your business,” Two Dogs said.
“Oh ho, so quick to throw insults. I was young once. I remember the thrill of a strong man between my legs.”
Two Dogs stifled his revulsion. “Please spare me the details.”
“Fine. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t let your temper ruin Mother Turklyo’s plans.”
“I can’t take any more talk of auguries right now either.”
Ancestors’ Hand stood and approached Two Dogs. He tried to walk past her, but she blocked his path.
“Listen, fool! Don’t let your righteous anger complicate matters. We need warriors or we’ll never do anything beyond taking on Corlain scouts six at a time.”
“These aren’t our people. They aren’t Mother Turklyo’s children,” Two Dogs said.
“No, they aren’t, but they are people. Not just that; t
hey’re warriors. We need them. They may not be Mother Turklyo’s children, but they’re still people we can use. Keep the queen happy.”
Ancestors’ Hand tapped Two Dogs on the ass. She cackled again and walked away. Two Dogs stared back at Murid’s longhouse, then continued his search for an empty bed.
chapter 14
Murid rubbed her eyes and stretched on her bed. She felt the space beside her. It was empty. Murid was briefly melancholy until the aroma of hot coffee caressed her nostrils. She sat up and rubbed sleep from her eyes. Sitting on her dresser was a silver kettle; steam rose from the gooseneck spout.
Murid rose from her bed and searched for some clothes to cover herself. She’d gladly abandon them again, but Two Dogs was no longer in her longhouse. She understood. People liked to talk, but a part of her wanted to let them. She was queen, after all.
Murid selected a green tunic with matching trousers. Her mother would have had words with her about wearing a dress, but that wasn’t practical for the hunt she had planned.
After dressing, Murid walked to her dresser and grabbed a mug. She poured the hot coffee and held the cup to feel the warmth. The coffee was black, so Murid added some of the milk provided. It turned to a light brown. Murid took a sip of her gift. If Two Dogs did this every morning, he was forgiven for sneaking away.
Someone knocked on the door. “My queen, are you awake?”
“Yes, Egill, you may enter,” Murid answered.
The door opened. Egill walked through and spied the coffee in Murid’s hand.
“Am I interrupting anything?” he asked.
Murid smiled as his eyes lingered on her steaming mug.
“No,” she answered. “I’m surprised to see you up so early.”
“My head agrees with you. Unfortunately, duty calls.”
“What is it?”
Murid gestured to the bench running along her table. Egill nodded and took a seat next to her.
“It’s the Black Cloud. They’ve sacked another farm. At the rate they’re going, Corlain cannonballs will slam into our walls a week from now.”
“I see. What do you suggest?”
“My queen, I know you want to honor Jorosolman, but we don’t have two more nights to celebrate. We need to evacuate the city. We can head farther north and prepare for the Corlains.”
Augury Answered Page 17