The Dawn King (The Moon People, Book Five)

by Claudia King

“You have never spoken the names of your family before,” Adel said. She caught herself before she went on, feeling a lump tighten in her throat. With Fern here it was even more difficult to shed the protective ice freezing up her words, but for Netya's sake she forced herself to continue. “I never spoke the names of mine either. My own sister, sweet Uriel.” The word almost hurt Adel as the wind yanked it from her lips. “My mother, Freia. It is hardest to remember those names that still carry fond memories.”

  “We have all three of us lost the families we came from,” Fern said.

  Adel nodded, feeling a pang of regret for the night her stubbornness and Khelt's had led to the deaths of Fern's parents many years ago. The huntress had become a flighty thing ever since then, seemingly afraid to settle down for fear of losing yet more loved ones. “Perhaps that is what drew us all together in sisterhood. Blood is strong among our people, but our pack takes its strength from kinship of spirit.” She put an arm around Netya's shoulders, then, after a moment of hesitation, Fern's too. “I am your den mother, and you are my family. We are sisters all.”

  The three women sat together watching the stars, the closeness of their bodies warding off the chill of the night wind.

  “My mother's name was Treyla,” Netya said. “My sisters were Neve, Leyah, and Sayla. I shall speak all these names and more to the Sun People tomorrow. Anything to show them we are kin.”

  “You had many sisters,” Adel observed.

  “The families of the Sun People are large. They live and die easily compared to our kind.”

  “We are like the slow, tough old oak,” Adel said. “While they are the field of grass springing up around us.”

  “What do you think will happen tomorrow, Adel?” Fern asked.

  “I do not know, but I believe we and the Sun People shall learn a great deal about one another by the day's end.”

  The wind danced about them, stirring the grass in time with its breath. Mother Syr hid her face that night. She wished for her daughters to face this trial on their own.

  —4—

  The Meeting

  Caspian roused them gently just as dawn was beginning to warm the horizon. Sleeping had helped to secure Adel's thoughts, leaving no fear in her heart. This was to be a fated day. A meeting as great as any gathering of the Moon People.

  Listen to yourself, Adel chastised as she led the group out through the grass. Grand thoughts for a prideful soul. Did you ever truly believe the legends about your dark hair and your great destiny?

  Yet she could not shake the feeling that she was on the brink of something momentous. Her thoughts kept returning to the map and the sprawling lands of the Sun People. What if they could become more than allies? Though her kind had always shunned the Sun People's ways, she now saw visions of wooden houses and tame animals, tools of metal and knowledge recorded in marked leather. Adel's greatest strength as a den mother had always been the diversity of knowledge she adopted. She'd learned from the wisdom from the Sun People and the magic of Jarek's ancestors. Could she take it further? Could she learn even more? The thought filled her with a tingling sense of excitement, marred only by the smallest hint of apprehension. Her paws quickened, hurrying her on through the dawning light until a band of trees thickened the landscape ahead of them.

  Alpha Orec himself was waiting for them at the edge of the overgrowth, a clutch of half a dozen warriors at his side along with Kiren and Kale.

  “Alpha,” Adel said as she reverted from the shape of her wolf, ignoring the formalities as the men bowed to her. “Are the Sun People still here? Tell me everything you have seen.”

  “That they are, Den Mother. Each day since they arrived the same one steps out into the forest and calls his words. ‘Adel! Adel! We seek the one Adel!’ He carries no weapons, though his people watch with bows and javelins from the water.”

  “How many of them are there?”

  “Two dozen, and twice as many canoes. They are lashed together and laden down with supplies. Metal, Kiren says, taken from a mountain near the great water.”

  “I told the alpha to watch the trees,” Kiren said. “More Sun People might be hiding there.”

  “If they are then they have not moved since they arrived,” Orec said. “It seems all they do is wait. Some come ashore and hunt animals with their bows, but they never venture far. We are trying to keep our tracks hidden, and we only approach at night.”

  “I mean to grant them their wish,” Adel said. “I shall speak with them. Have all of your warriors ready nearby. It may be a trap, but I will not let this chance slip through our fingers.”

  The alpha heaved a sigh. “I would sooner wait for them to leave, but the decision is yours, Den Mother.” He looked over at Caspian. “What do you make of this?”

  Netya's mate shrugged, arms folded as he rubbed his stubble with the tip of a thumb. “I would like to see these Sun People before I decide on anything, but the den mother is right. Speaking to them without bloodshed would be a great opportunity for us.”

  “We are the speakers, you are the warriors,” Adel said. “We must show them strength, but not fear. I want half a dozen of your largest wolves at my back, the rest behind and on two legs. Netya and Kale shall walk with me.”

  She saw Kale tense up.

  “Why me?” he said.

  “Has Orec taken you to watch these Sun People yet?”

  “Yes, last night.”

  “Did you see any faces among them that you recognised?”

  Kale shook his head. “It was dark, but I doubt I would have known any of them. My village was one of many. Even on my own pilgrimage I knew few of the men I travelled with.”

  Adel pressed her lips together, nodding through her disappointment. “What else can you tell me of them? How should they be addressed? What words should I use to win their favour?”

  Kale wilted a little under the sudden attention of so many eyes, but he found his voice after receiving a nudge from Kiren.

  “Their leader will be a shaman, I think. You could speak the names of our spirits... but, I do not know, perhaps they would see that as a blasphemy.”

  “Tell me all the same,” Adel said. “I shall choose what to say when the moment is right.” She gestured for the others to follow as she walked on into the trees, listening intently as Kale told her about the traditions of his homeland. They had six great spirits, not just one. They knew nothing of Ner, the horse spirit of the sun that Adel's people had always associated with their enemies. She regretted not taking the time to speak more with this boy in the seasons prior. It had been something she'd always meant to do, but it had taken him a long time to learn their tongue, and she had been preoccupied with other concerns after that. Unfortunately the knowledge he was able to give her that day proved to be of little use beyond a few simple details. Like Netya, he did not know many Sun People outside of his own small village. One title he mentioned did stand out, though: the Dawn King, the Sun People's alpha of alphas. It confirmed to her what the map had suggested. They were a great mass of tribes all united under one leader. She would remember this for the meeting to come.

  As the sun rose and the trickling sound of water reached them through the trees Orec called for quiet, taking the shape of his wolf and padding off silently through the undergrowth to collect the rest of his scouts. A tense silence fell over the group, and Adel felt Netya squeeze her hand.

  “Are you ready?” Adel said.

  Her apprentice took a deep breath and nodded. “I wish I had brought my staff. Heron always helps to centre me.”

  “We will be your centre today,” Caspian murmured. “Stay close to me, and if anything happens, run. They will not be able to follow us if we take to the legs of our wolves.”

  Adel nodded in agreement. “There will be no fighting today. If they try to attack us, we flee.” She looked to Kale. “I'll not allow what befell your pilgrimage to happen again.”

  Pale though he was, the sun wolf gave her a half-smile of thanks.

&
nbsp; “We were afraid,” he said. “The men I was travelling with were looking for a fight. These ones seem like they are not.”

  Orec returned shortly with many more warriors at his back, making their numbers an even match for the Sun People. The power of intimidation would certainly be on Adel's side if she needed it, though she hoped that would not be necessary.

  “The sun is rising,” she said. “When does their speaker step ashore to make his call?”

  “Soon now,” Orec replied. “We will hear him from here.”

  “Then we wait. I want them to know we are here to answer their summons, not to take them by surprise.” Adel took the time to organise her procession as they waited, making sure Caspian and Orec were behind her along with four other strong wolves. Netya and Kale would walk alongside her, then the wolves two paces back, and the rest another five paces behind them.

  Tree branches rustled with the flutter of birds as a distant call broke the morning quiet.

  “Adel! Adel! We seek the one Adel!”

  The words came in the Moon People's tongue, but they were misshapen and strange in their sound. The speaker's voice was different from Netya's. A little like Kale's, perhaps, and clearly not well versed in the language he was speaking.

  Cupping her hands around her mouth, Adel filled her lungs and called back in the tongue of the Sun People.

  “You have found her. I am Adel. I will approach with my followers now.”

  There was a moment of silence, then Adel motioned for her group to begin moving. They allowed sticks to crack and leaves to crumple beneath their feet, making no secret of their approach.

  “We are not here to fight,” the voice called back, switching to the Sun People's tongue now.

  Adel sensed her warriors' discomfort at hearing the strange words, but she led them on resolutely.

  “Neither are we,” she answered. “Give us your trust, and you shall have ours.”

  Through the screen of foliage Adel saw the river glittering up ahead. The Sun People had cleared a crescent patch of land around it upon which a lone figure stood. Her body tensed as she made out the shapes of canoes beyond, spears and bows bristling in the hands of the figures who occupied them. Long ropes bound the wooden vessels to trees on either side of the river, holding them in place against the tug of the current. Half a dozen more canoes had been pushed close to the shore, each of them carrying warriors who stood with one leg in the shallows, ready to push back into the river at any sign of danger.

  This was the moment. Adel allowed her wolf to rise half way within her, holding it just short of manifesting. It was a degree of precise control that few of her people ever managed to master. If arrows began to fly she would have the protection of her fur and the swiftness of her legs in an instant. Enough time to put herself in front of Netya or Kale, she hoped.

  With her palms raised in a gesture of openness, she stepped out into the clearing. A ripple of noise spread through the Sun People. Hollow wood scraped and knocked, splashing water around it as anxious feet shifted within their canoes. Adel heard the subtle sound of creaking bowstrings and a tense intake of breath.

  She kept on walking, showing no fear as she approached the speaker at a slow pace. Her eyes flicked from figure to figure, taking in every detail as she searched for any signs of a trap. The Sun People were all men. All strong. Mostly young. No wounded that she could see. No scars that spoke of recent battles with her kind. Those standing on the shore wore strange coats made of animal bones tied over leather, protecting their chests and thighs with hard layers of armour.

  Cunning, Adel thought. Teeth and claws would catch in those bones, giving the wearers a second chance against their enemies. The speaker, his red hair braided in a knot down his back, wore the most elaborate of these bone garments. It looked to have been fashioned from hundreds of individual pieces, small squares of bone carved into uniform shapes and polished flat. He wore them in a lamellar fashion that protected his chest and groin like the scales of an armoured animal, smooth enough to make claws slide off and tight enough to prevent teeth from piercing through. Very cunning indeed.

  The speaker regarded her with a flat expression that carefully concealed the emotion on his face.

  “You are the sorceress of the Moon People?” he asked.

  Adel came to a halt. The footfalls of her two dozen followers fell silent behind her back.

  “You know my name,” she said. “What is yours?”

  “Shaman Liliac, of the Sister.”

  Through the tense silence Adel thought she heard Kale whisper something to Kiren.

  “I am honoured to meet you, Shaman,” she said. “It is rare that your people come to my lands. You have my welcome.”

  The faintest suggestion of a smile crossed Liliac's lips. He glanced along the line of wolves behind her, his expression betraying the first hint of anxiety. Despite his coat of bone, he knew that Adel could have him killed with a single command to her warriors.

  “We have not come here to fight,” he said. “I was sent by a high priest of the Dawn King himself. He told me to befriend you if you answered my call.”

  “I know of your Dawn King.” Adel spoke the title as if she had known it for many years. “He is the alpha of your alphas.”

  Liliac's eyes narrowed slightly at the comparison, but he nodded. “Just as you are to your people.”

  Adel found herself surprised by his words. Was this one of the tales that had been spread about her? A seed of truth, misinterpreted by the time it reached the Sun People? She was powerful, but certainly no alpha of alphas.

  “I am known and feared by many of my kind,” she said, neither confirming nor denying his assumption.

  “Should we fear you? It is said that you can bring curses upon your enemies without raising a finger to them.”

  “Only my enemies.” Adel gestured for Netya and Kale to step forward. “I count many Sun People among my friends. Do any of your men recognise these two?”

  Liliac studied them for a moment, then turned to look back at his warriors. When he was met with silence he shook his head.

  “I do not know this man and woman.”

  “Tell the shaman of your heritage,” Adel said.

  One at a time Netya and Kale spoke their names, those of their parents, their families, the leaders of their villages. Liliac listened patiently, but something about him seemed on edge. Simple fear, perhaps? Or was it discomfort at being in the presence of sun wolves? Did he even know that such creatures could exist?

  “I know this man's village,” he said after Kale was done, “but not his family. The woman?” He shook his head. “The forest people are not of the Dawn King's flock.”

  “I count my friends among many different tribes,” Adel said. “Both yours and mine. If you will take it, I extend this hand of friendship to you also.”

  Rather than reassuring him, Kale and Netya's presence seemed to have made the shaman uncomfortable. He hid it well, but Adel saw the way his gaze flitted between the two of them. He had come here with surety in his heart, and seeing them had made him unsure.

  “Why did your leaders send you?” Adel asked, hoping to draw the shaman's focus back to where it had been before.

  “The high priest asked me to find you, to see whether the tales about you were true.” He smiled suddenly. “I can see now that they are.”

  “And what else?”

  “We bear a token of friendship. Come, I will show you.” Liliac turned toward one of the banked canoes and gestured for her to follow, but Adel did not move.

  “Bring it here to me.”

  Liliac looked at the wolves behind her. “Perhaps we will meet half way?”

  Adel made a show of considering his offer, then nodded. “A fair compromise. My warriors will do you no harm so long as yours keep their bows lowered.”

  Some of the tension seemed to leave Liliac's body. “So we shall.” He made a gesture to his people, and arrows that had been held ready dipped downward. Half-ta
ut bowstrings slackened, and wooden hafts clacked as javelins returned to their carrying bundles. Adel allowed herself an internal sigh of relief. It seemed like Liliac had spoken the truth. They were not here to fight.

  The shaman walked to his canoe and took a leather-wrapped object from inside. He waited until Adel took a few paces forward, then approached her again. Dipping his head in a small bow, he held out the gift. It boasted a polished wooden handle on one end, carved with a precision and intricacy that could only have been wrought by an expert craftsman. Adel reached out to caress the handle, feeling the weight of the leather-bound length attached to it.

  “Is this a knife?” she asked.

  Liliac shook his head. “A blade. One of those carried by the Dawn King's servants. A woman has never wielded such a weapon before.”

  Adel searched for a way to unfasten the leather wrapping, but Liliac showed her that it was unnecessary. Gripping the wrap in one hand and the handle in the other, he jerked the blade and dislodged it from its sheath. Smooth bronzen metal shone beneath the carved hilt, polished like the surface of a still lake. Adel drew forth the blade, marvelling at its perfection. It was as long as her forearm, narrow near the handle and bowed out slightly near the tip. Such a tool made her own obsidian knife seem clumsy by comparison, so elegantly was it balanced. She ran her finger across the edge and found it as sharp as a flake of flint.

  “Are your people capable of making many tools like this?” Adel asked.

  “A great many. The Dawn King's craftsmen build houses taller than any you have ever seen. They forge blades that do not shatter, and clothing that turns away blows.” He rapped his knuckles against the bone plates on his chest.

  Adel tilted the blade, marvelling at the way it caught the faint outline of her reflection in its polished surface.

  “Could your craftsmen share this wisdom with us?”

  “Theirs is a precious wisdom to share.”

  “What would you ask for in return?” Adel said. “Safe passage through our lands? Food and shelter as you travel these rivers? Scouts to guide your way?” She felt her excitement mounting as a spark of enthusiasm brightened Liliac's eyes. It could happen. Everything she had envisioned for this meeting could come to pass. She and the shaman could part ways not as enemies, but as friends.