"WroOth, please," Mara whispered.
"I know what I am supposed to do. I'm supposed to sit here and let my viskaro slowly seep into the afterlife."
QueQoa bowed his head. "I am sorry that I can do no more."
"Oh, but you can. You can be unconscious." WroOth picked up his club and smashed QueQoa across the back of the head. QueQoa lurched forward, stunned as WroOth pounced on him and beat him unconscious. The wounds swiftly healed, but QueQoa remained motionless.
"WroOth!" Mara screamed. She doubled forward in pain, clutching at the stinger. "WroOth, no."
WroOth knelt beside her. "Mara, once I met you, I could not remember what a life without you was like." He grasped her face between his hands and dried her tears. "I will not learn what that is today. I love you, my beautiful darling tempest, and I won't lose you." Leaning in, he kissed her, tore out the stinger, and thrust his hand against the gaping wound. Gold light flowed from him into her.
Mara gasped, grabbing him. Her eyes clenched shut. "WroOth!" Her face contorted, then her body went limp.
WroOth lurched back, his body convulsing. Foam flowed from his mouth as he doubled over. The seizure took his body, thrashing him against the ground.
"WroOth!" Naatos shouted. He appeared over the top of the dune and raced to WroOth's side. No one was with him.
WroOth continued to seize. Naatos dropped beside him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Naatos struck WroOth between the eyes. His body went limp. Leaning over his brother, Naatos pressed both hands to WroOth's chest and then looked to Mara.
She lay motionless, eyes half-opened, blood oozing from the hole the stinger left. Grief filled Naatos's face. His shoulders slumped. He turned back to his brother, pressed his palms harder against WroOth's chest. Golden light flowed out. WroOth twitched and convulsed a few times more. Naatos spasmed as well. But then WroOth relaxed. His eyes opened. "Mara?" WroOth asked, breathless.
Naatos bowed his head and pulled away.
Slowly WroOth rolled over to look. And when he saw Mara, he wept again.
34
Condemning the Innocent
It did not take long for Shon and Matthu to discover the hidden outpost. The map was so precisely detailed that they were able to find each of the landmarks and then locate the secret door. Within the old outpost, which turned out to be little more than a couple rooms, they discovered tables and shelves covered with sealed stone and glass containers as well as sealed bags and tied pouches of dried herbs and flower buds. Scraps of leather, half-formed whips, and reed blowguns were scattered about as well.
Shon and Matthu had to make several trips to fully pack up the contents of the outpost. The stone containers sealed with pine tar and ceramic glaze required the most care. Shon suspected that these contained the drug, but he couldn't be certain. The Machat had taken great care not to label with any suspicious language. It matched what Kepsalon had told them. When Matthu shook one, it crackled and sloshed at the same time.
"Hope this gives them loads of trouble," Matthu said.
"Agreed." Shon gathered up the pouches in a larger sack.
By midday, they had completed packing and started back toward the agreed meeting place. It was easy to miss if one didn't know where to look, but the map Kepsalon provided gave an accurate depiction of both the slate-blue rock shaped roughly like a nightingale and the three trees near the foothill entrance that had been struck by a single blast of lightning. The center tree was nothing but a charred mass of blackened wood and bark while only half the other branches and leaves on the other trees thrived.
Hope and fear continued to battle within Shon. He wanted to believe that the Machat could deliver on their promises. It was the one thing that would make their absence and long hiding understandable. Shon paused, realizing just how self-centered that sounded. Did the Machat really owe them anything? Over the years the Machat had faced many groups who wanted to destroy them. Sometimes Libysha had intervened, at least when they were able. But more often than not, the Machat had taken the brunt of the violence. If the Machat had chosen to remain in hiding because they thought it best, could they really be condemned?
Matthu went first, drawing the pack bruin along behind him. Shon glanced over his shoulder once more to ensure that they weren't being followed. The sky was clear of all but a few wisps of clouds. As they passed beneath the deep-bending branches, two Ayamin and two Machat guards appeared. They greeted them, told them they would take the bruins from there, and said that both Shon and Matthu should go inside. "Keep to the central passage. Irasso will be looking for you," said the Machat woman.
"Doesn't seem possible that we just met him yesterday…was it yesterday or the day before?" Matthu passed the reins to the Ayamin. "Time feels weird right now."
"Day and a half ago." Shon shook his head as he dismounted. "It does feel a lot longer." Two of the longest days of his life.
This passage into the foothills had a higher door frame and ceiling height than New Istador. Shon didn't even have to duck as he stepped inside. The pleasant scents of yeasty baking bread and robust wine greeted him. There were even hints of rose mixed with incense smoke. The passage was carved from paler brown stone and overall much roomier than New Istador.
As soon as they rounded the corner, pleased and surprised shouts rose up. "Matthu!" a young woman called. She grabbed Matthu by the arm. "Quickly, my father wants to talk to you!"
"Elseen?" Matthu looked at her with surprise. He pulled his arm free. "What about?"
"No. My father wants to talk to him." Another girl Shon didn't recognize ran up. She took hold of Matthu's other arm.
"Um…" Matthu's cheeks flushed as he pulled away. "I need to talk to my father first. Why would your dads want to talk to me? Shon?"
Shon stared straight ahead, shocked. In the large chamber before him there were two things happening. Young men and women were lined up and standing in groups of five couples before a single priest. Bread and wine sat on the linen-covered tables, and when each couple finished with a priest, they shared a loaf and goblet of wine before they went down separate passages. "Are they—"
"Marrying. Yes." Roselle walked up to him. She smiled slightly and then pushed her long blond braid back over her shoulder. Her face and neck reddened slightly. "The Machat say our victory is not certain. Apparently the odds are greater that the Vawtrian army will invade eventually, and the Tue-Rah will be restored. And, if it follows most Vawtrian invasion strategies, the majority of the warriors will be unwed. But they cannot take married women. Anyone over the age of twenty is recommended to marry." She twirled her hair around her finger. "I no longer have a father to ask for me, so I had hoped you would not think me forward for suggesting that, given the circumstances, we—"
"I'm sorry, but I am already betrothed." Shon stepped back, barely able to comprehend all these changes. "Shouldn't there be battle preparations? Isn't that more important?"
Roselle's face fell. "Then it's true. You are engaged to that pinchat."
"Excuse me," Shon said, his voice becoming stiff. Roselle had always been so gentle. He had never heard her speak harshly of anyone and yet she was referring to Amelia as a pinchat?
Matthu shook off Elseen and the other girl. "I'm not marrying anyone today!"
"But you act older than you look," Elseen said, her fingers digging into his arm. Her green eyes grew wider as she spoke, her tone pleading. "Please don't abandon me, Matthu. You told me you liked me."
"He told me he likes me," the other girl said. She shoved Elseen and glared at her. "Get away from him!"
"Hold on, hold on," Matthu said, raising his hands. "I don't think the Vawtrians are going to want either of you—" His face reddened. "I mean, I think you'll be fine. You've got nothing to worry about. We're not going to lose."
Shon grabbed Matthu's arm and pushed ahead as the girls glared at them. "Excuse us." What was this madness? He caught sight of Irasso waving at him. "What's going on here?"
"The rumors have been g
rowing since the Truth Bringers spread their poison," Irasso said. He set his bow on the ground and clasped his hands on the top. "Grew to a full-fledged panic by the time we arrived here. Now half the unweds are taking the delaf. You Awdawms can be so flighty. Incredibly insulting too, suggesting that we can't defeat the Vawtrian army or stop it before it arrives. Come along though. You're wanted in the command." He smiled faintly, making it unclear how much was a joke and how much was serious.
Shon ran his hand along the back of his head as he and Matthu followed Irasso through the crowd. The sweet light spice of the delaf, the wine used in wedding ceremonies, made his head throb. He'd hoped to drink it with Amelia. And one day he would.
Other girls stopped them along the way, some asking that they speak to their fathers and others outright proposing. Irasso helped hurry them away, sometimes giving exasperated sighs. "The Vawtrians aren't going to carry you off," he said over and over again. "At least wait until we've failed to start binding up the rest of your lives." He shook his head and muttered, "Nothing like a little bit of panic to justify massive mistakes."
They maneuvered through increasingly less populated halls until they reached a simple wooden door. Irasso rapped on the frame, pushed the door open, and stepped aside. "Gentlemen."
Shon ducked his head and entered the room, avoiding the frame. The ceiling here was a bit lower, and its darker wall braces suggested it was older. It was a broad room with the expected wooden tables and chairs. Relief, then dread gripped Shon when he saw his father, Vorec, Kepsalon, Saldon, and another Machat Shon did not recognize.
"Oh. Hello." Matthu came in behind Shon and frowned with confusion. "Doesn't look good."
"Matthu," Linufe said, lifting his hand. "Please give us a moment."
Just from his father's tone, Shon knew that he had distressed his father. There was only one thing he had done that could cause that. The coldness in Vorec's gaze confirmed his suspicions. Shon exchanged glances with Matthu and lifted his chin. "Let Matthu remain, Father. He has been with me through this entire situation. Let him corroborate my words."
"This is not a trial," Saldon said. He was one of the last remaining generals among the Ayamin. From the looks of the bloodied bandages around his arm and neck and his stiff unnatural movements, he had not fared so well during battle.
"It's an intervention," Shon said. He looped his thumbs through his belt and nodded.
"Due to conflicts brought on with the Truth Bringers and the Ayamin, I talked with your father when we found him," Kepsalon said. He spoke with his hands folded before him, his expression as inscrutable as ever. "He and the others are aware of the role that I played, but they feel—"
Linufe cleared his throat, interrupting Kepsalon. "They feel that while it was understandable, you yourself are in danger, my son. This curse could be your undoing, and we must prevent that."
Shon clenched his jaw. Folding his arms, he drew in a deep breath. "A curse? No." He turned his gaze to Kepsalon. "You gave me the most precious of gifts, Kepsalon. Yes, perhaps you did it to keep Amelia safe, but you allowed us to peer into one another's souls, and we love each another. I will never love anyone as I love Amelia. But even if Kepsalon had not allowed this, I would have loved her anyway. How could I not? You don't know her, but she is the most incredible woman I have ever known. She fights on even when she doesn't know what the end will be. She offers compassion and wit. She risked her own life and safety to save the Machat and all of you!"
"Shouldn’t she at least be given a chance to accomplish all this." Matthu scowled.
"Shon, Matthu," Vorec said, his voice stern. "We are at war, and war is not about giving people a chance."
Linufe silenced Vorec with a wave of his hand and a dark glare. "I would rather have had this conversation with my sons alone, but since you all insist upon being here, then you will at least permit me to speak my mind. Shon, I am certain that Amelia is everything you say. She was raised by Joseph, a man whom I highly esteem. And from the brief encounter I had with her and from your obvious affection for her, I must assume that she has lived up to those expectations." The slightest expression of disdain twitched across Vorec's face. "But Amelia's character and worth aside, she is married to Naatos."
"A marriage which is in fact legal and binding, no matter how repugnant we may find it." Vorec stabbed his finger against the table.
"It is not valid by our laws." Shon scoffed. "I would have thought you would be pleased, Father. You always told me to marry well."
"Yes, but I didn't intend for you to wed a married woman." Linufe sighed as he leaned forward, gripping his hands. His knuckles were white. "Shon, her marriage to Naatos may not be legal under Libyshan tradition. It is actually quite problematic, but we have no choice but to accept it because it is valid under other laws."
"Then we accept Vawtrian law? Is that what this is?" Matthu demanded, straightening. "Why are we even battling them? If their laws are to be ours, if they are to govern us, then what difference does it make whether they win? We’re already letting them decide how we’re going to live. Why not save hundreds of lives and just surrender now?"
"It's not that simple." Saldon lifted up a dusty old volume and flipped it open. "Each world is to be governed by its own peoples and its own laws, but when there are conflicts between the races of one world and another, then these laws were put into place. Ancient laws. There are provisions here given for each of the races and the laws that should be applied. The problem is that Amelia is a Neyeb, and Naatos is a Vawtrian. They are neither Awdawm nor are they Libyshan."
Shon stepped closer, his hands clenching at his sides. "But she grew up here!"
"Not even that,” Vorec said. “She spent a few years here. And she is how old now? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? Thirty? Thirty-five? Even at best, she only spent a little more than four years with us."
"And why should we care what these ancient laws say?" Shon demanded. It struck him as strange that his own father would not see the injustice of this.
"Because if the Vawtrians break through and conquer us, those ancient laws are all that we have to protect us," Saldon said. He did not sound impatient, his gaze sympathetic as he studied Shon. "These laws state that because of the locking, a Vawtrian has the absolute right to whoever he or she locks with so long as that person was not married. Any man or woman who is married cannot be claimed."
"Amelia and I were betrothed before she was locked to Naatos! If I sever that, then she has no other chance."
Linufe covered his eyes with his hands. A long sigh escaped his lips. "My son," he groaned. "Oh, my son. Her only chance is in his death. Claiming you are betrothed may grant you audience with those who arbitrate such disputes, but as of now, those are his brothers. And the only option left to you is a duel. That would cost you your life. I do not want that, and if Amelia is the kind of woman I hope she is, she will not want that either. She is a married woman, son. Whether you approve of the man she married is meaningless."
"Why are you talking about this as if she picked him?" Matthu demanded. "Does someone choose to be robbed? Does someone choose to be murdered? Or are we acting like this is an ordinary marriage because it's more comfortable for us? This isn't a marriage where he courted and wooed her. He didn't even threaten to kill people if she didn't say yes. He just took her! He just showed up and said she was his wife. And we're supposed to walk out on her." Disgust filled his face.
Silence crushed the room. Vorec, Linufe, and Saldon dropped their gazes. Only Kepsalon and the other Machat continued to watch them.
"It may not be right," Linufe said at last. "But it is necessary."
"And if she was your daughter, any of your daughters, would you do the same?" Shon scanned the men before him. "Would you abandon her? It's not as if we can even say that she is with a good man. He threw her into a pit of spiders to be eaten alive!"
"And what will he do to you? What will he do to you?" Linufe stood, slamming his hand on the table. "You are my son and a comm
ander of the Ayamin. Your duty is to this country."
"And to the royal family!" Shon clenched his fists. He despised his father most of all now. The others he could understand, but how could his own father not see this?
Vorec motioned for Linufe to sit. He stroked his close-cut beard, eying Shon thoughtfully. "She will not be part of the royal family for long, Shon. When the king is freed and the council is called, he will seek out our allies. It is already public knowledge that Amelia is Naatos's wife—"
"Yes, thanks to you," Matthu interrupted, the frowning creases deepening in his forehead. "You and the Truth Bringers almost incited a riot against her. Considering how you're treating her, it wouldn't be shocking if she decided Naatos was a better offer."
Vorec's eyes narrowed. "I will ignore your outbursts and insolent attitude in light of the events that have transpired. The point is that all of the Libyshans are already talking about this. And while you may believe that what they say is untrue, these rumors will influence everything."
"And what of Queen Alita's opinion in this? Have you told her that we're going to abandon her daughter into the hands of a man who has terrorized her entire family?" Shon's anger grew.
Linufe's shoulders slumped. "Shon…King Theol and Queen Alita will have no choice. Our allies will not associate with us if they know that the adopted daughter of the royal family is legitimately married to one of our invaders. It doesn't matter whether Amelia is innocent. Unless Naatos releases Amelia from their marriage or he dies, she will be banished. And even if he does die or releases her, that is no guarantee she will be saved from that fate."
"Banished!" Shon and Matthu echoed.
"But why?" Matthu pushed away from the wall. "She was never in line for the throne!"
"Some legitimacy of power may still be traced through a formal relationship with her," Saldon said.
Shon looked to Kepsalon and the other Machat. Kepsalon met his gaze. He tipped his head in a slight nod, indicating his agreement. This is what would happen. The other Machat began to sketch on a piece of paper. A deep grief crushed in upon Shon. "So you are ordering me to abandon her? To release her from our betrothal?"
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