The Dawn King (The Moon People, Book Five)

by Claudia King

  Fern simply seemed grateful to be reunited with her friends again. She was dotingly loyal to Netya, and many times over the course of the evening she asked whether she could do anything to help ease the discomfort of Adel's wounds. Netya was fortunate to have made a friend like her, who had been willing to travel all the way across the world, facing all manner of bloodshed and hardship, in order to find her. Caspian was no less devoted to his mate, though he was clearly troubled by Netya's quietness. She'd still not spoken of Sayla, and Adel suspected that that conversation would happen in private later on. Hopefully then Caspian would be able to provide her with the comfort she needed. Together with Fern, he would be able to do for Netya what Jarek had done for Adel. Netya would never become cold and resentful toward others the same way Adel had, not with people like Caspian and Fern at her side. She was a loving soul who needed the love of others, and with them around her she was far stronger than she believed. She would need that strength in the coming years.

  Despite the sombre haze hanging over the conversation, the six of them eventually settled into an easier mood. They watched the sun go down over the heartland plains, the gradual realisation setting in that their ordeal was over. They would soon be returning home, wherever that lay, and Adel would be embarking upon a new journey. There would be no more fighting, no more bloodshed, and no more fear. At least, Adel hoped there would not. Some day they would undoubtedly face hard times again, but not tomorrow, nor the day after. For now they could believe that all was at peace with the world.

  One by one Adel watched her pack drift off to sleep, happy that they were all still here to share this reunion. She stayed awake to keep the fire fed. For one last night she could sit with them, watching over her children as their den mother.

  A few days later, at the advent of the full moon, the feast began. The temple had watched with bated breath as travellers began to appear on the roads in the distance, more and more of them by the day. Radeen-Na's warriors had spread word to every settlement they passed by, and it seemed that few had refused the Dawn King's invitation. Some came with armed men, others with aurochs laden with goods to trade, and some with empty sacks ready to be filled with food. Jarek did not turn any of them away. The cooking pits were soon roasting meat day and night. A constant procession of men and women carried bundles of food and skins of water into the camp on the far side of the river. Foraging parties began roaming far and wide to provide for the gathering, and even Eral grew nervous when the temple stores began to dwindle. Yet Jarek did not order the generosity to stop. He wanted to show all the people of the land that he was not hoarding their tribute away for his priests, but giving it back to his followers in a celebration of all their hard work.

  The result was a gathering so large it took Adel's breath away. On the evening of the full moon she looked down from the temple to see the circle of land on the far side of the river consumed with moving bodies. The gathering of the Moon People had been staggering in its scale, but if Adel had been forced to guess she would have suspected that Jarek's feast had drawn ten times as many people. It was little wonder that the feast was only set to last three days. Any longer and the temple stores would have been emptied for sure.

  There was some disquiet, as was only natural with so many people, but Radeen-Na and his warriors were quick to deal with problems and punish troublemakers. Overall, an air of nervous excitement seemed to pervade the gathering. None of the Sun People had ever witnessed anything like this before, and it was a telling sign that times were changing. Some were worried about what kind of leader Jarek might be, and it was clear that many did not trust a foreigner's wisdom in ruling them, but the hearty feasting and the good cheer set a promising tone that even the most cynical struggled to find fault with.

  Dressed in clothing of blue and yellow wool, adorned with jewellery made from metal and bone and polished white seastones, Jarek and his high priests made their procession through the village to join the gathering. A line of warriors flanked them on either side, marching in perfect unison, and the temple priests and concubines followed after. By then the persistent ache in Adel's chest had dulled to an itch, and her burns no longer stung. She walked at Jarek's right with her hair braided and draped over one side of her head to conceal her blistered scalp. She wore her fox pelt headdress and a new gown of light wool, with a hint of charcoal painting her eyes and several curled metal rings clipped into the shells of her ears. The gathering parted for them the same way the Moon People would have made way for a procession of alphas. People looked on in awe at the magnificent display, equal parts curious and apprehensive to see their new dark-skinned Dawn King striding forward with a smile upon his lips.

  When they reached the centre of the gathering Jarek stood atop a raised earthen mound that had been built up and covered with mats as a place for speakers to address the crowd. There were so many people present that only a small part of the gathering could hear him, but all of the village chieftains were close by. Tents and shelters had been erected to offer the guests of honour comfortable spots at the centre of the crowd. Concubines danced and servants ran back and forth with wooden platters heaped with delicacies, while others provided skins of fermented drink and hot teas freshly warmed in the fires.

  Jarek bellowed his greeting to the people from the top of the hillock, his voice carrying clear and loud over the heads of the feasters. He welcomed them, invited them all to share in the year's bounty, and then, to the surprise of everyone, knelt and prostrated himself before the crowd.

  “I am your Dawn King,” he proclaimed. “Yet no one is a greater servant than I. My place is not to rule, but to serve the people of this land. I serve you, I serve the spirits, and I serve the wise priests who advise me. No chieftain who comes to me will ever be denied an audience, and no concern will ever go unlistened to.” He rose to his feet then, arms outspread with a broad smile. “So if your leaders will bless it, let this great feast be the first of many!”

  Jarek then invited each chieftain to approach and speak with him personally. Some raised their voices so that the crowd would hear while others conversed quietly and intently. Most ended their brief audience by bowing or kneeling, but a few turned their backs on Jarek, demonstrating to the crowd that they thought him unworthy. Had the tone of the gathering been different their defiance might have troubled Adel, but her concern lessened as one by one these chieftains were met with either jeers or disapproving silence from the crowd. Most considered it greatly discourteous not to honour the Dawn King after the generosity he had shown with his feast. It was a heartening sentiment. Adel suspected that a significant portion of the chieftains were uncomfortable with Jarek, but they still respected him enough to accept him as Atalyn's successor. The people of the heartland plains would not be turning against their Dawn King this day.

  The first evening was a formal one, taken up by much ceremony involving Jarek and the priests. Sacrifices of food, talismans, and clothing were made to the great spirits, and everyone was invited to partake in casting some valued item into one of the six great bonfires to the spirits of family. Much like the Moon People's gathering, it never truly slept, though the roar of activity did diminish as the night wore on. By the time Jarek returned to the large tent reserved for the high priests at the edge of the river, he was exhausted. Adel invited him into their sleeping furs and they slept deeply until dawn, whereupon the noise roused them once again.

  For the next three days Jarek's energy was tireless. Whether he believed himself capable of being a good leader or not, there was no doubt that he had a talent for engaging with his people. During the days he took formal audience with chieftains and farming families alike, turning away no one who wanted to speak with him. Yet it was the evenings, Adel suspected, that truly won him the hearts of his people. When the light faded Jarek stayed up with those who had gathered around the hillock at the centre of the gathering, telling stories and singing songs with such gusto that he frequently dulled the noise of those watching him as they
sat and listened, enraptured by his performance. Just as he had done with Adel, Jarek made stories come alive in the way he retold them. She did not know where he found the strength for it. When he told the tale of Atalyn's death the grief in his voice and the tears on his face were real, and his audience felt the open sharing of his emotions so keenly that several of them began to weep as well. When he spoke of the night Radeen-Na had valiantly fought against the treacherous Thakayn and Mountain Sky he took a blade in his hand and swiped and parried against invisible opponents, eliciting roars of enthusiasm from the warriors who were watching. It was clear that no one had expected their new Dawn King to entertain them in such a way, and while a few of them thought his display was foolish and unbecoming, most were utterly engrossed. Adel herself wondered whether he was becoming too familiar with his people, but this was a unique talent that Jarek could share with them. If others were to follow him, then they needed to see him as a man with traits worth admiring, not simply a voice that echoed the will of his high priests. It was an unusual way of expressing his worth as a leader, that much was true, but it would stick in the memories of his followers.

  Adel fell under a lesser degree of scrutiny, though she was still the source of much interest once word began to spread that she was Jarek's lover and a powerful seeress in her own right. She could not tell stories or give endearing speeches, but there were other ways she could prove her worth to the Sun People. Just as she had done in the feasting hall at the temple, she and Eral invited those with ailments to come before them and receive their healing touch. Their combined skills proved every bit as effective as before. During the three days of the feast word spread that the seeress had a blessed touch, and that she and the high priest of the Daughter were capable of alleviating any ill. It was an exaggeration, of course, but Adel hoped that with a greater understanding of the Sun People's medicine it might one day become true.

  Even Radeen-Na, who spent much of his time resolving the disputes that arose during the great feast, organised an inspiring spectacle when he allowed young men to wrestle his warriors, offering gifts and blessings of the Brother upon the victors. Most failed to best his men, but it was a great source of pride for those who did. On the final day Radeen-Na went to the families of the young men that had impressed him and offered to train their sons as sacred warriors of the temple. Most accepted with gusto.

  The feast was loud, chaotic, and exhausting, but by the time the sun was setting on the final day Adel knew it had been a success. Most of the people of the heartland plains were ready to accept Jarek as their Dawn King, and those who were not were too few in number to cause a serious stir. So much had been accomplished in these few days, yet there was still so much more ahead of them. The challenge invigorated Adel, weary though she was, and she looked forward to rising to it.

  But before she turned her attention to the future there was one last thing she had to do. Taking off her headdress and jewellery, she changed back into her old, ragged gown and made her way to Rodan's camp. The dull roar of noise was lesser that night, and Rodan had positioned himself near the edge of the gathering so that his people could enjoy some measure of peace. It filled Adel with joy when she arrived to see a smile on Netya's face as she sat at the fire with Caspian's arm around her. It was the first time she'd seen her smiling in many days.

  Adel wished she could have spent more time with her pack during the gathering, but there had simply been too much to do. This last night would be different.

  Netya's smile faded slightly when her mentor's appearance reminded her that they would be parting ways soon. Adel beckoned for the girl to join her, and together the two of them made their way out to the edge of the camp. They stood among the tall grass watching the sun dip below the far distant horizon. Had it not been for the noise of the gathering behind them and the silhouettes of houses in the distance, they could almost have been looking out over Alpha Khelt's plains again.

  “It will be over soon, won't it?” Netya said softly.

  Adel nodded. “At dawn tomorrow. Some of the chieftains are already preparing to leave.”

  “Are you sure you will not come with us?”

  Adel's chest pinched tight with sadness, but she was relieved to hear the acceptance in Netya's voice. She had not pleaded with her to change her mind, only asked whether it was firmly made up.

  “This is my place now, here in the lands of the Sun People. With Jarek.”

  Netya sniffed, then moved to put her arms around her mentor. She rested her head upon Adel's shoulder, and Adel embraced her back.

  “I didn't want to understand,” Netya said, “but I do. I can't not. I just wish you could stay with us forever.”

  “I told you many times that this day might come, Netya.” She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether the girl would pick up on what she was trying to say, but Netya just kept on watching the sunset. “Thank you, Netya,” Adel said warmly, “for being with me all these years. You made me face many things about myself that I did not want to.”

  “I just wanted you to be happy. I could tell there was a goodness in you always struggling to come out.”

  “I am happy. Now more than ever. I hope you can be too, even after losing your sister.”

  “I let go of her a long time ago,” Netya said. “Coming back to the Sun People's lands made me confront it again. It was a shock, but learning the truth...” She fell silent for a moment. “It was as if I had already built the pyre for my family, but I was still holding back the torch.”

  “Now you can say goodbye to them properly.”

  Netya nodded.

  Adel stroked her apprentice's hair, feeling warm tears in her eyes. “If you ever see my father or brother at our gathering again, tell them that I forgive them. Khelt and Vaya too.”

  Netya smiled and squeezed her. “I am not sure if they would believe me.”

  “It doesn't matter. I've no need for those grudges any more. They can stay behind in the lands of the Moon People.”

  “But you will come back to us some day?”

  “Yes, some day. I promise. Whether it is for a season or a year, you will see me again. And Netya,” she turned so that they could face one another and looked the younger woman in the eyes, “spirits willing, there will be other meetings between the Sun and Moon People in the years to come. Far kinder ones than we had with Liliac.”

  “You mean to send more pilgrims to our lands.”

  “Yes. Traders and messengers. Every year I will send you word from the temple, and you must send news of the great packs back to me.”

  “I must do this?”

  Adel smiled at her, then spoke the title the Moon People had given her the day she bested Vaya's challenge many years ago. “Little Mother.” The name for a seer who would eventually become her clan's matriarch.

  “I cannot take your place,” Netya said in shock. “I am not ready.”

  “I know. But you will be. A year from now, or two, or five. There will come a day when you feel ready to lead our pack by yourself. Until then you will have Caspian and Orec to help you. When you return home, you will be their new den mother.”

  Netya shook her head. “Even with their help—”

  “You will be a seer with visions of the Sun People. You will be the one who makes peace with them. You will be the woman who brings gifts of metal and new knowledge from distant lands. A woman like that, they might call her an even greater seer than Den Mother Adel was.” She squeezed Netya's shoulders. “The Moon People's ways are old. Coming here has shown me that. If they wish to survive they must find unity with each other, the same way the Sun People have. They need people who can lead with kindness, not just cruelty. That was always your strength, Netya. Do not try to lead as I did. Find your own path, and show others how your pack prospers from it.”

  Netya still looked overwhelmed, but the sincerity in Adel's voice had gotten through to her. Even if she did not believe in herself, she knew that her mentor did. “Do you think the Moon People ca
n ever really change?”

  “I do not know, but we must try to lead them in a new direction. Together, with you on one side of the mountains and I the other, we could change the fates of our people.”

  “A daughter of the sun among wolves, and a daughter of the moon here,” Netya said, smiling in bemusement.

  “Perhaps this is the only way it can ever happen. Peace is difficult to find when you have only ever lived one life.” She touched Netya's cheek. “Keep the sun in your heart, but lead them like a daughter of the moon.”

  They embraced again, and in the distance the last glimmer of the sun slipped below the horizon.

  “Will you stay with us a little longer?” Netya asked.

  “Yes,” Adel said. “I will be with you until morning.”

  —Epilogue—

  A moon and a half later Netya crested the top of a hill and saw the valley waiting for them in the distance. The wind twitched at her wolf's ears, drying the mist of drizzle from her back as it ruffled through her fur. The journey had taken them into the wet season, but that morning the clouds had chosen to part, as if the spirits were beckoning them along the final stretch home. With no river to carry them the journey back had been an arduous one. They had walked to the edge of the heartland plains laden with supplies and metal tools gifted to them by Adel and Jarek. Kale had accompanied them that far before saying his farewells and returning home to his village. The rest of the journey had been undertaken in the shapes of their wolves, making for a swift passage across the plains, but a slow climb up through the foothills. Netya did not like to think back on the harrowing journey through the darkness beneath the mountains, but it had been undeniably swift. It surprised her, by comparison, how many days it took them to find the pass that Alpha Khelt's pack had once planned on using to cross the mountain range. No blizzards impeded them this time, but it was still a strenuous walk through the snow once they reached the upper slopes.