The kDira's World Anthology

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The kDira's World Anthology Page 27

by K R McClellan


  Agis did as he was told, kneeling beside the bed, and putting his hand on kDira’s forehead, brushing her sweat-soaked bangs from her eyes.

  “Shhhhhh,” Agis said softly, laying his head on her shoulder. “Try to relax and let Guller and Jilleane do what they have to do and it will be alright.”

  “It hurts, Agis. It hurts bad! I knew it would be like this. The dreams… my baby is trying to kill me!” she cried.

  “Those were just dreams. Guller can make this better, but you have to relax and let him do what he needs to do.”

  “I am trying. I really am trying,” kDira cried. “It just hurts so much!”

  “You are doing great, Agis,” Guller said. “Keep doing what you are doing; we almost have it.”

  “You hear that?” Agis asked softly of kDira. “They almost have it.”

  “Now, kDira! Push! Push hard!” Guller yelled.

  kDira bore down and pushed for all she had. Then suddenly, whether due to exhaustion, or blood loss, she passed out.

  Guller handed the crying baby to Jilleane. “It is a boy,” he said, trying not to let his disappointment show.

  Three days later, kDira’s eyes opened, and the first thing she saw was Agis’s face, lying on the side of the bed, eyes closed, asleep.

  “Hey kreb, are you sleeping on the job?” she asked in a cracked dry voice.

  “kDira!” Agis exclaimed happily, lifting his head, grinning from ear to ear. “You are awake!”

  “What must a Queen Mother do to get a drink of water around here?”

  Agis stood and rushed over to the narrow table along the wall and poured a cup of water from the pitcher that was there.

  “Now do not drink this too fast.”

  “Shut up and give me the water,” she demanded, lifting the cup to her mouth and downing as much as she could.

  “How do you feel?” Agis asked.

  “I feel very, very sore. I feel like Hayden has beaten me all over again. How is the baby?”

  “He’s fine. He’s a fighter, that’s for sure,” Agis assured her.

  “It’s a boy?” she asked with a little disappointment in her voice. “I want to see him.”

  “I will get him,” Agis said.

  “kDira is awake,” Agis announced to Jilleane and Guller, the only two currently still at kDira’s hut. Princess Jilleane was quietly rocking the baby, who was swaddled in a warm blanket. “She wishes to see the child, and we should probably get some nourishment in her.”

  “I will make her some broth,” Jilleane offered, handing the baby to Agis.

  “That would be good,” said Agis, heading back into the bedroom.

  Guller stood and followed Agis in to check on kDira’s condition.

  “Here is your boy, kDira,” Agis said, handing the baby down to his mother. She pulled the child close but did not bring him to her breast.

  “Have you thought of a name for the boy yet?” Guller asked while checking under the sheets for any further blood loss.

  kDira looked at the child’s face, desperately trying to see features that she could compare to her own, and less so of the beast that had fathered him. His eyes were dark, as babies’ eyes are, but they did not look at her. Though kDira knew he was only a few days old, it troubled her in a way that she was not prepared for.

  “I will name him Malak.”

  Guller’s head popped up when he heard the name. “Why did you choose the name, Malak?” he asked.

  “I just like the name, Guller. It sounds like a fine boy’s name.”

  “In my readings, I have learned that that name means Angel in some languages,” Guller said. “It is a fine name.”

  After several days, kDira was able to get out of bed and go for short walks around her hut. She forced herself to allow Malak to breastfeed, but her heart was not in it. Something inside her kept telling her that this was Hayden’s son, and because of it, the baby had tried to kill her as he emerged. She hated that her feelings took this path, but she tried to believe that she would grow out of them; that she would develop a fondness for the child she called Malak, the angel.

  Months went by, yet kDira still had not found a way to bond with the child. She found herself leaving Malak with the Princess Mothers as she went off to clear her mind by visiting the archery range or spending some quiet time with Agis and Winter. As time wore on, she felt less and less guilty, and just started feeling that it was the way things were. She did take the time to feed him, and clean and change him, when necessary, but when she could, she was happy just to leave him with someone else. And she was not aware that Elick and Guller were paying close attention to the development of the boy.

  Winter was just starting to walk, and kDira and Agis took great joy in watching her learn new things. She was beginning to speak words and form them into basic sentences. Winter took an interest in Malak, always trying to help her mother do things, even if she wasn’t quite capable yet.

  kDira declared Agis the Sergeant of the Guard so that he would not have to stand watches again but would oversee the assigning of the duties for the warriors under him. This would give him more time in the evenings to help kDira with the children.

  No one complained that Agis was getting special attention. The respect they had for kDira outweighed any emotions or jealousy they might feel; this was the new way of the Blackhorn.

  cHAPTER 4

  During the following cold season, Malak began to crawl, and as the months grew warmer, he took his first steps. He learned to walk earlier than most babies and was showing signs of being brighter than other Blackhorn Children of the same age.

  kDira gave up breastfeeding him altogether after his teeth began to grow in and he seemed to take great pleasure in biting down on kDira’s nipple. After the second time it happened, drawing blood, kDira had had enough.

  Winter was running around like a little warrior, playing sword fighting games with Agis, and running faster and farther than any of the young children of the other Princess Mothers.

  Agis took great pride in seeing Winter become more and more like kDira every day. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Malak, though. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be the one to train the boy as a kreb.

  As the winter months approached once again, Malak was speaking in basic sentences, able to get his point across whenever he needed to. It was during this time that his disdain for being told no became apparent. It was also during this time, cooped up in the hut, that he started showing signs of a troubled spirit.

  On one particular day, kDira carried Malak to see Elick. They trudged through the snow-covered streets; what was once a beaten path was now becoming blown-in again. She knocked on the door of the Interpreter’s hut. Moments later, Elick opened the door and welcomed the two in from the cold.

  “Come, make yourselves comfortable next to my fire,” Elick offered. “I was about to brew some bark tea. Would you like some?”

  “I would very much like some, thank you,” kDira said, remembering that Elick had a special way of brewing bark tea that brought the flavor out in remarkable ways. She put Malak down on the floor to let him wander around the hut. Elick always kept some basic toys for Winter and Malak for when they visited.

  “So what brings you here this cold and nasty day, my dear kDira?”

  “Can a Queen Mother not visit her subjects when she feels the urge without being questioned?” she asked with a wink and a smile.

  “You are always welcome, but now, more than before, I question why the visit?”

  kDira paused in her answer. She didn’t know how to say what she needed to say, but she knew it needed to be said.

  “kDira?”

  “It’s Malak,” she said quietly, not wanting the boy to hear her say his name.

  “What about him?”

  “The farther along he gets, the more he makes me think of his father. His real father.”

  “Hayden.”

  “Yes.”

  “What is he doing that has you bothered?”
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br />   She looked over at Malak, who was sitting on the floor, content with a wooden toy that he had found in a small toy box in the corner.

  “He is just… not listening to Agis or me.”

  “Explain, please.”

  “If he is doing something wrong, and we correct him, he… well… growls, or grunts, then continues on doing what he was doing.”

  “Growls…?”

  “Or grunts; something like that. I told you before when he just about bit my nipple off?”

  “Yes, I remember that. I do not blame you for stopping the breastfeeding.”

  “But then he would look at me seeming to enjoy it. It is like he wanted to hurt me.”

  “Oh, I am sure it was just an innocent child reflex. You’re not the first mother to be bitten by their child.”

  “Winter never bit me, not once.”

  “But boys are different…”

  “Please stop,” kDira said, getting a bit louder than she intended. Malak looked over at his mother, and then looked back away again.

  “I think there is something evil within him,” she continued. “Something…” She stopped when she looked back over at Malak and saw that he was looking right at her as if waiting for the next words to come out of her mouth.

  kDira looked away, quickly. “I feel,” she said in a whisper, “like he is looking into my very soul.”

  “kDira… my dear, dear kDira. I think what you need is some time away from the boy. Have one of the other Princess Mothers watch him for a day or so, enjoy some bryne with Agis, and unwind a bit. Your head is confused, and you’re not thinking straight.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Malak, come on, baby. Let us go home.”

  Malak sat there, still playing with his toy.

  “Malak, come on. Mum says time to go.”

  Again, Malak ignored his mother, sitting defiantly in place. kDira walked over to him and put her hands under his arms to lift him up, but suddenly his arms went straight up in the air, and kDira found it impossible to lift him.

  “Come on, Malak. It is time to leave!” she said, putting one arm around his chest and her other hand under his bottom to lift him up to her chest. When she did so, Malak took the opportunity to bite her arm.

  “Oooow! What did you bite me for?”

  Malak let out a baleful little-boy-laugh that chilled kDira to her very core. She looked at Elick, who had an expression of terror on his face.

  “Do you see what I mean?” she asked Elick.

  “It might be time to start disciplining him.”

  “I will talk to Agis about it this evening,” she said, wrapping her coat around her and her son. Elick let them out the door, and as he shut it behind them, felt a sadness and a renewed urgency to tell kDira about the provicy.

  kDira trudged angrily through the snow. “Just wait until I tell Agis what you did. Why would you do that? Why would you bite mum like that?”

  Malak looked up at his mother’s face, and with a sly little smirk, said simply, “Evil.”

  Elick sat down at the table. For close to two years now he has struggled with the provicy. The words weighed heavy on him:

  49 A non-breeder will become

  with child and her daughters

  will be breeders, all.

  50 Beware the first male child,

  For he will betray the world.

  He and others analyzed every possible interpretation to determine what the provicy actually meant. He could see and understand kDira’s concerns and fears; it was as though, in her heart, she already knew the provicy. To finally share it with her might offer her some comfort and relief in knowing that her fears were justified.

  He pulled out the tattered, ancient scroll and unfurled it, regarding the text as though it were written by some ancient deity. How was it possible that the ancients knew of the coming of Malak, and what his existence might mean? And why didn’t they give more clues as to what might become of him, or what might become of the Blackhorn… of kDira?

  A knock on the door broke the trance that Elick found himself in. He looked up, wondering if he really had heard the knocks when a second set of raps confirmed he had not imagined them. He rose from the table, went to the door, and pulled it open.

  “Guller, old friend! Please come in,” Elick said, attempting to manufacture some cheer despite his gloomy mood.

  “Old friend? We have not known each other that long,” Guller said, cocking his head a bit to look at Elick with the side of his squinting eye. “Oh, I get it. I am old, therefore I am your old friend.”

  “Ha-ha,” Elick chuckled. “Sorry, just trying to lighten my mood a bit.”

  “Are you in poor spirits, my not-that-much-younger friend?”

  “I just had a visit from kDira. She has some very valid concerns about Malak. He is disobedient, obstinate, and sometimes just plain mean. She is very worried about him, and I am very worried about her.”

  “You think we need to tell her of the provicy?”

  “Why would you ask me that?”

  “Because I see the scroll on the table, right where you were probably pondering over it before I came to your door.”

  “You are very insightful, Guller. Yes, I have been considering telling her. Not without your blessing, though. Either we do this together, or not at all.”

  “I am glad you consider my opinion that valuable. At this time, I would rather watch a bit longer; to let this play out just a bit more. The boy is too young to cause anything but some agitation for kDira. Maybe he will straighten out, and those words on the scrolls will turn out to have been meant for some other’s first male child.”

  “I sincerely hope you are right, Guller. I really hope you are right.”

  cHAPTER 5

  Springtime came, and as the air warmed and the forest once again grew its rich, deep green, kDira spent more time teaching Winter how to shoot the custom-made bow that Agis had fashioned from a felled hickoring tree. It was just the right thickness so Winter could draw it back far enough to get an arrow to fly, and even stick in a target at ten paces. For being but four years old, Winter was showing all the promise of being a keen warrior one day, and possibly a great Queen Mother for the Blackhorn Tribe.

  Agis tried to take Malak under his wing and teach the boy right and wrong, and how to defend himself with toy swords. The young boy did well in learning the fundamentals, though he wasn’t sure why he was being taught these things. He simply mimicked Agis and did a fine job of that, but Agis, too, could see that Malak had a stare that would look right through a person and chill one’s soul. It worried him as much as it did kDira. He worried that he was projecting his own feelings of Hayden, and what he knew about how he’d treated kDira, onto the young boy. But every time Agis convinced himself that he was just imagining it all, Malak would do something that would once again confirm that the fears were justified.

  “Nice shot!” kDira praised young Winter for hitting the target solidly. It was not a bullseye, but kDira wasn’t pushing for that just yet; hitting the target was what she was focusing on teaching Winter.

  “Looks like I have some competition,” Ari said, watching the young girl learning the skills of an archer at such an early age.

  “Guller thinks she is a prodigy because she took to it so naturally,” said kDira.

  “She gets it from her mother,” Ari said.

  “She gets it from her father,” Agis said, defending his pride. “I am a pretty good shot myself, you know.”

  “A good shot, yes, for a sword fighter,” kDira teased.

  “Now, now, you two. No fighting around the children,” Ari chided gently.

  Malak was running around with his toy sword, made from the same stock of hickoring wood that Agis had used for Winter’s bow. The young boy was thrusting and swinging at imaginary Karn or blackber foes. With each thrust, he would yell out ho! or ha-ha!

  “Malak, come over this way; you are crossing the firing range,” kDira called. “You have to stay this way!”
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  Ho! Ha-ha! Malak continued, thrusting some more, ignoring his mother’s warnings.

  “Winter, put the bow down until we get Malak back over this way. Agis, can you please get Malak to mind.”

  “Malak,” Agis called to the boy. “Come on, this way!”

  The young boy continued to ignore his parents. Agis, tired of the game, walked over to Malak, grabbed him by the hand, and began removing him from the shooting range. Malak protested, squirming and whining to no avail, as Agis pulled him back behind the firing line.

  “Okay, Winter, you may continue,” kDira said.

  Winter picked up her little hickoring bow and nocked an arrow. Suddenly, from behind, Malak slashed his sister across the side of her head with his little sword, shouting ha-ha!

  Winter let out a scream that could be heard throughout the Blackhorn village. kDira quickly went to Winter as Agis grabbed Malak again. Agis snatched the sword from the young boy and swatted him with it, twice across his backside, before kDira ordered Agis to stop.

  “Enough,” she said, looking down at the now-crying boy. “Enough.”

  “Come,” Agis said to Malak, grabbing the boy’s hand firmly. “It is time to go home.”

  “Poor little warrior,” Ari said, bending down to see Winter’s face. “Did he hurt you very badly?”

  Malak looked back at his crying sister and saw the two Blackhorn women fawning over her. His arm was jerked, and he was turned again to the direction he was being pulled. His sword was still lying there on the ground near his mother.

  Winter’s injury developed into a small scar on the right side of her cheek, just below her eye. Though the toy sword was not sharp, it had been swung with such force that it broke the skin.

  Agis never gave the sword back to the young boy. As Malak continued to grow through the colder months and on into the next spring, he learned to use whatever he could find to act as his sword.

 

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