The forgotten stone, p.44
The Forgotten Stone, page 44
Kilith took no time to marvel at the house, marching her down the hall and into the meeting chamber, where a long, carved table stood with matching chairs. To Enouim’s surprise, Oloren lay at the near end of the table, surrounded by Vadik and two men Enouim didn’t know. The chairs on this end had been pushed back against the wall, and light poured in from the hall and foyer, though the chamber had none of its own.
“This is the safest room in the house,” Kilith said. “Stay here.” With that, he turned and left, leaving Enouim standing in the entry gaping at her friend.
Oloren lay on her back on the table on a linen sheet soaked with blood. She wasn’t moving, and the ghastly pallor of her skin made an eerie contrast from her usual caramel complexion. Enouim stepped forward hesitantly, and gasped—her friend’s left arm was missing below the elbow.
Vadik stood by Oloren’s head, holding her right hand, as the other two crushed leaves and mixed substances together in bowls. One of them began pouring something over the stump where her left arm should have been. Oloren jerked up with a cry, and just as quickly fell back on the table with a thump, eyes closed again.
Enouim’s lip quivered. “Is she going to be okay?”
Vadik looked up, eyes misty. “She’s strong.”
A beat of silence. “That’s not what I asked. Vadik?”
The man still crushing leaves to Enouim’s left looked up, and passed a glance between them. “She is a true Gorgenbrilder. So far she is doing well, but the window for infection has not yet passed … and there were many particles embedded in the wound when she was brought to us. We are cleansing the wound and applying poultices to ward off infection, but we will see. If she is lucky, her arm is all she will lose.”
A loud crash caused them all to jump, and Enouim’s mind returned to the chaos outside. The yelling and screaming continued, and people pounded on the door and windows. Enouim stepped back through the passage and peeked around the corner into the foyer. Ruakh was there, leaning against a large chest he had placed against the barred door. Five other men stood at the ready.
“I am supposed to keep you away from the door,” Ruakh told her. He smiled, his eyes soft. “Good speech.”
“Lot of good it did. They’re out for blood.”
“You touched a nerve in the heart. This passionate of a response shows how deep the nerve ran. It is better than apathy. Your words made an impact. How they respond now is not up to you.”
Enouim sighed. He was right. He seemed often to be right. “Where is Malum?”
“Canukke and the others took him to the dungeons. The explosions collapsed most of the tunnels, but there is one cell left in the underground dungeon and only one way in and out. He should be safe there, for now.”
Enouim nodded, chewing her lip. “And my mother; have you seen her? Is she okay?”
Ruakh looked back at her in surprise, then in sadness. “Who is your mother?”
One of the men nearby spoke up. “I saw her at your little charade. She was fine. If she heads indoors, she should stay that way.”
“How …? I don’t know you,” Enouim said skeptically. She didn’t appreciate the disapproving tones in his voice. “How do you know my mother?”
“Everyone knows you now,” said another. His eyes were softer than his friend’s.
Ruakh spoke again. “The people want us to know they’re angry. Their energies are mostly following Khoron-khelek, and I do not envy Canukke and Serete’s responsibility to safely contain him. But they will wear themselves out. We will keep our heads down today and let them sleep on it.”
Sunrise kissed the hills with a gentle greeting, flooding the morning with hope and life. By the time Enouim awoke, the sun had already ascended high into the sky. She opened her eyes and blinked in the light, trying to remember where she was. She found herself on a bed draped in furs, with three other beds made up and lying empty in the room. Many hooks decorated the wall, and Enouim imagined that quite an arsenal of impressive weaponry once hung there.
A shadow passed over the window in the hall. Enouim froze. Someone stood just outside it, unmoving. Was she a prisoner here? What had happened in the night? She passed a hand over her eyes. No, she was all right. They had taken Twedori’s house as their own headquarters and let the day wear on and wear out all the frenzy of the morning. Next to the bed lay a fresh set of clothes. Enouim glanced down the hall. Seeing no one, she quickly changed under the blankets and rose from her place, letting out a deep sigh.
She walked down the hall, past two empty bedrooms, and into the foyer. Voices came from the dining room, and she followed the sound to a long table with benches. To her delight, Oloren, Gabor, Vadik, and Serete all sat at the table.
“Oloren!” Enouim exclaimed. “How are you feeling?”
“A little lighter, thanks,” she answered, lifting her stump and wincing. Two clean socks covered the bandages on her arm. “I’m sorry to have missed your speech. Sounds like quite the event.”
“How is it out there?” Enouim asked, sliding into the bench next to Oloren and reaching for an apple in the center of the table. “It sounds quieter. That has to be a good sign.”
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Serete greeted her with a smile. “Gorgenbrild is divided. Most are still bent on killing Khoron-khelek, and the guards stationed with him are nearly giving in. A few have really been pondering your mercy of strength.”
“But most just don’t understand it,” Gabor said. “And Canukke is struggling with it himself. I think he’s almost killed Malum a hundred times.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t,” Enouim answered honestly. “Is he there now?”
Vadik shook his head. “He was here earlier, to see Oloren. Couldn’t shut up about the mercy of strength. Kept wondering why and how it could help matters. He went after his woman though. He’s with her now, I believe.”
“Ooh! Did he tell you? Do you know?”
“Know what?” Serete asked.
“How can we know if we know, if you don’t tell us what you know?” Vadik prodded playfully.
Enouim paused. How could Canukke not have mentioned his daughter to them? “That he … uh … you know, family stuff.”
Vadik gasped facetiously but then smiled. “Yes, we know. Crazy. I’m not sure I picture him a father of a girl.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oloren demanded. “Girls are tough. I could beat you all to a pulp even still. After breakfast, maybe I will!”
“Tough, maybe, but as it turns out—less handy,” Vadik said with a smirk.
Oh, put a sock in it.” Oloren rolled her eyes.“
“I can’t! You stole them all.”
Enouim laughed, and the rest joined in. Perhaps life would slowly return to normal now they were home.
A pounding came at the door. Serete and Gabor jumped up, instinctively placing themselves between the doorway and the table.
“We aren’t children,” Oloren muttered, but Gabor shushed her.
Gabor and Serete crept to the foyer, and Enouim heard a long slide as they moved the heavy chest from the door. The bar lifted, and a beat of silence followed. Whispers. A low creak let them know the door had opened, and Gabor called back. “Enouim?”
She got up cautiously and rounded the corner. There before her stood her mother, still gaunt and thin, but with a light in her eyes Enouim had dearly missed at their last meeting. Tears streamed down her mother’s face as she reached for her daughter, and Enouim ran to her.
“I thought I would never see you again,” Qadra managed through tears after a long embrace.
“I’m okay. We’re okay,” Enouim said, choking back tears of her own.
Qadra pulled back and searched her face. “How grown you are, little one,” she said, and a fresh tear slid hot down Enouim’s cheek. “You must tell me everything!”
Enouim pulled her mother into the dining room, where she filled two plates with food and hastily introduced her friends to her mother before scampering off to her room with Qadra in tow. Enouim sat cross-legged on the bed and poured out everything that had happened.
At the end Qadra held up her hand. “I still question this man Eh’yeh’s intentions, sending nine against an army. How could you trust him so readily?”
“Mother. Mereámé was dead. She is alive now. I’m not sure what else I can tell you, other than the fact that we spent time with him there, and … well, if you knew him, you would know.”
“So it’s true. You left for the Ecyah Stone, and came back empty handed. And yet you … you were the weapon all along!” Her eyes widened with awe.
“No, I was not the weapon. I learned some things about myself, but it’s still just me—and had it all been left in my hands, we would all be dead.”
Qadra shook her head. “So modest. A hero, Gorgenbrild’s finest. No matter what they say about you, almost all agree you saved us.”
“What do you mean, no matter what they say?”
Qadra paused. “I … er, well,” she said slowly, “some question your loyalty. Some say you are not of Gorgenbrild, that you have deceived us. A few know about the Chayan situation, and say you are a coward, but obviously you have outweighed the wrong to Chayan with victory. They are fools. The rest say you are a hero. And so do I.”
Enouim had nearly forgotten about Chayan. An uneasy feeling settled on her chest. You need to face Chayan. Enouim shook off the thought.
“And what of the mercy of strength?”
“A powerful insult.” She nodded approvingly. “It was a greater blow to let him live with the knowledge that even a young girl like you considered herself stronger than he, and not worth the effort of killing. But don’t you think he is too dangerous to leave alive?”
“I meant no insult.” Enouim shook her head. “I meant it in truth. I offered him mercy, the best way that our culture would allow. It is acceptable to do so.”
Qadra’s eyes narrowed, but then she waved her hand. “No matter, it’s all over now. You are safe and sound. Gorgenbrild is saved because of you, and we can rebuild. You know, the Mangonel was never destroyed.”
Enouim blinked. Did she really expect her to go back to serving mead at Mangonel Mornings? “I can’t go back there now!”
“Oh … well, of course not. Not now. Now you could do whatever you like. Perhaps be a horse breeder like you dreamed of as a girl? Heaven knows we will be needing plenty more of those now. And that Kalka’aner stallion you brought with you is quite the specimen.”
Enouim gaped at her. Why did her childhood dream, her teenage dream, her dream up until this year, sound like such drudgery? She couldn’t stand the thought of Inferno being cooped up for use as a stud horse. He was built to fly! He should be galloping over mountains and through rivers, chasing down the horizon, forging ahead with the wind in his mane.
And so should she.
“I can’t stay here forever.”
“Nonsense! Gorgenbrild will be safe now. We’re vulnerable, yes, but the Kalka’an men are graciously willing to stay and help protect our borders while we rebuild. We will be bigger and better by the time any tribesmen attempt to trifle with us again, and their numbers are drastically cut down. They are scattered.”
Enouim shook her head slowly. “That’s not it. There is more out there for me than divvying up lunch to travelers or breeding horses for their adventures. I am the traveler now. Don’t you see? I walked the trade routes of my father, and surpassed even his distances. I saw things—saw things! It can’t be unseen or untraveled, and I am not the same person I was when I left.”
Her mother’s eyes brimmed with tears, and guilt rose up like a tidal wave. Enouim hurried to catch it. “I mean I am … but I’m not.” Enouim scratched her head. You need to face Chayan. She hurried on. “But, Mother, Gorgenbrild will always be my home. And I won’t be going anywhere right away. I am a Gorgenbrilder through and through, daughter of Rotan and Qadra Cokanda, the greatest parents in all the world.”
Qadra’s countenance brightened, and with it, Enouim’s heart. Still, she questioned what she’d just told her mother. She may have been raised in Gorgenbrild, but she was less Gorgenbrilder than her people hoped. And though it made her feel out of place, she was glad of it —glad to be free of paralyzing hatred and anger that weighed down the soul. And although she didn’t know where her next adventure would come from, she knew it would come.
Enouim. Do not run from me. You need to face Chayan.
Enouim sighed. Whatever the people thought of her, she had been brought up in Gorgenbrild, and she’d violated its cardinal rule. Why would Eh’yeh have her honor such an absurd standard? The culture of Gorgenbrild was wrong. Anxiety filled her stomach with sour butterflies, but she knew what she must do.
It didn’t have to make sense. If Eh’yeh asked, the answer must always be yes.
50
Three men stood in the entrance to the dungeon where a locked gate should have been. The hinges had been blown off in one of the explosions, but a single half-collapsed cell remained usable for the tribesman emperor. Enouim wiped sweaty palms on her tunic and bit her lip as she walked toward Chayan, who was fully engaged in an argument with the guards.
“Your water warrior forfeited highest rights to his blood! Any of us can now carry out what she could not!”
The first guard, a man Enouim recognized as Simmet, shook his head. “She didn’t forfeit them. She pardoned him.”
“That was not within her rights to do.”
“Our orders come from Kilith Urul, as do yours. Until Quarot recovers enough to confer with Kilith and Canukke, Khoron-khelek lives. I’m sure he will be appropriately disposed of at that time.”
Enouim hesitated. Maybe now was not the best time.
“Water warrior!” The second guard acknowledged her with a dip of his head, rapping his right fist to his left shoulder in deep respect. Enouim’s breakfast suddenly did not quite agree with her.
“Have some respect for yourself,” Chayan sneered. “She’s a tavern girl.”
“I’ve never seen a tavern girl save a nation before,” Simmet said. “It doesn’t make her a saint. But she has a lot of supporters. I’d watch yourself if I were you.”
The second guard looked eagerly at Enouim. “Are you joining the leadership of Gorgenbrild? What do you think should be done with Khoron-khelek? You are the one who captured him, after all.”
Chayan snorted and took a swig from her flask.
Enouim grimaced. “Um … I actually came to talk to Chayan.”
Chayan choked on her drink. “What?”
Enouim swallowed. The four Gorgenbrilders gaped at her as though she’d lost her mind. Perhaps she had. “In private?” Her voice squeaked with as much authority as a mouse in a zegrath’s claws. She cleared her throat and tried again. “In private.”
Chayan crossed her arms. “I don’t think so. I have nothing to say to you.”
Enouim surveyed Chayan’s guarded pose. She might be butch in front of the guards, but her eyes were curious.
“Well, that’s obvious, because if you did you would have come and found me by now. But I’m the one with something to say.”
Chayan lifted her chin. “Say it.”
The guards glanced uneasily from Enouim to Chayan and back again. People passing by slowed down to watch the interaction. The longer she took, the more of a spectacle this would be.
Enouim pursed her lips. “Right, okay.”
Chayan arched an eyebrow.
Enouim put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. “If it weren’t for you covering for us, Canukke and I never would have made it out of our scouting mission alive. We never would have launched a successful attack, and we would have lost. I never meant to hurt you, and it isn’t fair that someone unqualified like me took your place going after the stone. I can never give that back to you. The last words you said to me those months ago were, your bones belong to me. I don’t want to turn this into some sort of show, so I won’t do it now, but tonight I’m giving you the chance to do whatever you feel you must.”
Chayan blinked back at her, dumbstruck. “What’s the catch? You think you can face me now that you have powers? Let me guess, we’re meeting at the river?”
“No. We’ll meet on the east side of Gorgenbrild, at Sefer’s Knoll by the cliff. You’re stronger and faster than I am. I won’t get away from you there. And there’s no river on that side.”
Chayan’s eyes narrowed.
Simmet’s lips parted, but no sound came.
Enouim gave a short nod. “I’ll see you at dusk.”
For the next few hours, Enouim steered clear of anyone who might talk her out of meeting with Chayan. She hadn’t told anyone her plan, but Serete found her meandering the outskirts an hour before dusk.
“Everyone is talking about your meeting tonight.”
“What? I haven’t told anyone! I didn’t even tell you.”
“You told Chayan in front of three guards. Everyone saw you talking to her. It didn’t take long.”
Enouim sighed. “Fantastic.”
“Your mother sent me to check on you. This meeting sounds like a bad idea.”
“Thanks. But it wasn’t my idea.”
“Eh’yeh?”
“I think so.”
Serete raised an eyebrow. “You think so or you know so? If you just think so, it’s possible you’re being an idiot. If you know so, then I guess there’s nothing left for me to say.”
“I’m pretty sure it was Eh’yeh. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it on my own.” Doubt washed over her, and a chill ran up her spine. What if she was wrong? What if she was going to her death for absolutely no reason? No, that thought was not your own. It might not make sense, but somehow, it’ll work.
