The Chamber of the Ancients: Wrak-Wavara: The Age of Darkness Book Two

by Roberts, Leigh

  The females rose, carefully scuffed some dirt over the remaining coals, and made their way to Kyana’s living quarters. Lorgil pulled her mat over closer to her friend’s.

  Settled down in the dark, Kyana said, “One good thing that came out of this is that I have been given you as a friend. And for that, in spite of everything else, I am grateful.”

  Lorgil squeezed Kyana’s hand, and they drifted off side by side, the red jasper tucked up safely against the wall.

  Days passed. Nox’Tor gave everyone a wide berth, coming back to Kayerm only for supplies. Tensions subsided with his absence from the community.

  Norland and Dotrat were entertaining their sisters outside in the deep snow. All were throwing wadded gobs of whiteness at each other, ducking, running, and laughing. Kyana sat watching them as she took a break from the daily chores of fetching fresh water, removing refuse, rationing food stores. Her youngest, Somnil, came running over to her.

  “Come play with us, Mama. Join our side; Norland is winning!” Just as she said that, Norland came up behind her and swung her around in a circle, secure in his arms. She threw her head back with laughter, and joy filled Kyana’s heart.

  Hearing someone approach, she turned to see Wosot. “Looks like a happy family to me,” he said.

  She patted at the empty space beside her, inviting him to sit.

  He joined her and sat quietly for a few moments, watching her offling romping together.

  “May I speak plainly?” he asked, passing over a handful of dried grapes, which she happily accepted before nodding for him to continue.

  “If Nox’Tor has truly repented and his transformation is real, will you take him back?”

  Kyana squinted at Wosot. “I do not know. Forgive me, but the nature of your question surprises me.”

  “Because it is—so personal?” he asked, looking away into the far horizon.

  “Yes.”

  “That is because I have a personal reason for asking it,” he continued, plucking a stray blade of grass that peeked up through the snow and toying with it. He then shifted so they could see each other directly.

  “The day you and Nox’Tor paired, the happy future I had been praying for was lost. I knew you had been seeing more and more of each other, but I thought there was still time. I was wrong. Time ran out.”

  Kyana frowned, and seeing the puzzled look on her face, he continued, “I waited too long to let my feelings for you be known. But I am asking you now if perhaps there is a chance for me. With you.”

  Kyana did not know what to say. He was protective of her and was helpful to her and her offling, but she had assumed it was only a product of his function in the community and his loyalty to Nox’Tor’s father.

  Sadness filled her heart as she thought of the years during which he had held feelings for her and said nothing.

  “It must have been hard for you,” she said gently.

  “Watching you with him? Watching your lives unfold together while I returned to my quarters alone night after night, trying not to think of you together? Seeing you seeded over and over? Wishing I was the one sharing your life with you, that it was me who had planted each offling within you?” He chuckled, but the sound was sad. “Yes, it was.”

  Then he looked at Kyana more intently than any male ever had. “But it is not your pity I seek. There were other females, others before Moc’Tor’s ruling limiting us to pairing only, and there were also some who offered to pair with me. It was my choice to live as I did, and I have been resigned to it. But now, wondering if I could spend time with you and that perhaps you could learn to care for me in return, I had to speak my mind. I am not going to make the same mistake twice by keeping my silence.”

  For a moment, Kyana squeezed her eyes tightly shut, stopping the flow of tears at his heartfelt disclosure.

  Wosot stood up, looking down at her. “Do not answer now. Take some time. In fact, you do not ever have to answer. If we never speak of this again, I will know your decision. But if you feel there might be a chance for you and me, please consider it. I know there is no provision for this, as you are paired with him. But these are, above all, times of change.” He gazed off into the distance.

  “I am not blind to the truth; I realize I am far older than you deserve, but I could be a good partner to you. A strong provider. And I would never hurt you or put you second. Or ask to take another into my bed. On that, you can rely.” Having said his piece, he glanced back at Kyana ever so briefly and walked away as quietly as he had come.

  Somnil saw Wosot leaving and came running over. “Oh, join in. Please! Father doesn’t play with us.”

  The offling’s words stabbed Kyana’s heart. Somnil is right. Nox’Tor never plays with them. He never had.

  In fact, now that she thought of it, almost everything her sons had learned about hunting, fixing, banking a fire—all those skills were taught to them by Wosot. Yes, Nox’Tor had spent time with them, but it was Wosot who had taught her sons what they needed to know as males. Only now did Kyana think about how little time her mate had devoted to his family. As for Wosot, she had never guessed that everything Wosot did for them had come not from duty but from genuine care.

  Looking back at Kyana, Wosot shrugged and joined in the fun. Soon he was on his back with Somnil and her sister Lai flopping down on him and her sons pretending to bury him with snow. Their laughter warmed Kyana’s heart. Even Norland, already of pairing age, was joining in as if he had not a care in the world.

  Later that day, Kyana sought out Toniss.

  “What brings you to me?” the older female asked. “I heard that Nox’Tor wishes to make amends.”

  “Yes, though he is seldom around now. Perhaps he is giving me time to consider whether his turnaround is true or not.”

  “Do you want it to be?”

  “I thought you would ask if I believed it was genuine, not whether I wanted it to be.”

  “Sometimes— Sometimes, no matter how genuine the apology, it is just too late. The heart has closed or moved on. Or the injury was so deep that even with forgiveness, the soul cannot re-open to the one who harmed it so deeply. I recognize that this is a possibility for you. At least, it would be for me if I were in your situation.”

  Kyana nodded. “I did not realize all these years how wise you are. You have been a big help to me, and I am grateful for that.”

  “Take your time. Move slowly. Small steps. A lot has happened, and your heart has been bandied about through all of it. I have nothing but the highest respect for you over your handling of the situation with Lorgil. How you have done everything possible to protect your offling from it, though despite your best efforts, they and everyone else here knows how deeply this has hurt you. No one will judge you, whatever your decision. Please rest assured that what I say is true.”

  “Thank you. You are kind as well as wise. I suppose I feared that if I did not take Nox’Tor back, you would turn away from me. And I would count that a great loss.”

  “Years have their way of teaching us—if we are willing to be taught. In matters of the heart, better a slow move than a wrong one.” Then, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, Toniss pulled Kyana over and hugged her as a mother would one of her precious offling. From that moment on, their relationship changed, and Toniss and Kyana were on their way to becoming friends as well as being relatives.

  Chapter 6

  Rohm’Mok took matters into his own hand, bade his mother farewell, and set out for Kthama. It was not long before a messenger brought word that he had arrived. Pan’s heart sang and sank at the same time, knowing the message she had to give him would only make matters worse.

  She walked into the Great Entrance, and as they were not alone, greeted him formally. “The High Council does not meet yet for a few weeks, though you are certainly welcome here. Let me find you suitable quarters; I assume you are staying for a bit?”

  They walked together through the corridors of Kthama, Pan’s mind returning to the time that see
med so long ago when, at the Deep Valley, she had first set eyes on Rohm’Mok.

  She found an empty room, and he pushed the stone door closed. As soon as they were alone, she fell into his arms.

  “Why have you come? Though I am glad you are here, do not misunderstand me,” she said.

  “Too much time has passed, and I was not going to let a winter storm come between us. And I must tell you that I had it out with my father.”

  Pan looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “It went about as I expected, though my mother had to intercede on my behalf. As it stands, I am no longer in line to lead Awenasa.”

  “That was hard for you, I know.”

  “The worst part was learning that my father apparently never truly loved my mother. At least not as she loves him. He speaks of love as an option in pairing but not a necessity. And even worse, I discovered that my mother knows it to be true.”

  “I am sorry. For you and for her.”

  “I am here now, Saraste’. Please tell me you will not make me wait any longer?”

  Pan let out a heavy sigh.

  “Do not say it. Do not tell me again you are not ready. And could you be seeded? Do you know?”

  Pan closed her eyes. She could not put him off any longer. It was not fair to him, to their communities. Or to their offling.

  “I am seeded,” she said.

  He searched her face for meaning. “Are you happy? I cannot tell.”

  She smiled, “I am happy. I am not happy that I failed in managing my desire for you. But I am happy that I bear your offling. And I am very happy that you have come to me at this time. It will not be long before I show. Even now, it may be too late to pretend our offling was premature. But I pray that is not true, for I do not want my people to lose faith in me.”

  Rohm’Mok pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He leaned his head on hers.

  “Will you stay until the High Council meeting? We can announce our pairing then.”

  “I can stay only a few days before I must return home. But yes, let us plan on announcing it then.”

  The weeks passed, and soon the High Council had gathered again. Once more, it was made up of only the Mothoc Leaders, as the Akassa preferred not to come. Rohm’Mok had returned ahead of his father.

  As she had planned, Pan invited her sister Vel to announce that she wished to be paired. Then Tyria stood and told everyone that she had delivered a son, holding him as she spoke. The meeting was starting on a high note, and Pan was feeling joyful. Just as Hatos’Mok entered the chamber, she announced that she and Rohm’Mok were to be paired.

  “So, it is official then? Nothing I said to you mattered?” he barked as he walked briskly to the front.

  “What is the meaning of your disrespectful entrance?” asked Tres‘Sar, rising from his seat.

  “Did you not just hear? The Guardian and my son wish to be paired. He is abdicating his responsibility to the House of ‘Mok and refusing to take over leadership of the Deep Valley.”

  Pan stood quietly, keeping an eye on Rohm’Mok.

  The members of the crowd exchanged glances.

  “Father, I have told you that Pan and I wish to be paired,” Rohm’Mok said. “I do not see why you are still so angry.”

  “Please. It is not the wishing to be paired; it is your refusal to honor your responsibilities to your own community that is the disappointment.”

  Pratnl’Rar from the Little River stood. “This is a private issue. I do not see why it is being discussed in the High Council. Whatever problems this has caused between you, Hatos’Mok, and your son, are your family’s business. The Guardian has a right to pair with whom she chooses. Though it is very unusual, your son has a right to refuse leadership of the Deep Valley. We who are Leaders, each with our own understanding of who will replace us when it is time to set the mantle aside, I know we can commiserate with your disappointment. But the cause for anger at the Guardian is unwarranted, and I find it highly disrespectful. Would you have talked to Moc’Tor so?”

  “Thank you, Pratnl’Rar,” said Pan gently, raising her hand. “But I can fight my own battles. Hatos’Mok, if you wish to continue this conversation in private, I am willing to meet with you after this session has concluded. For now, we have other matters to discuss. Matters which affect all of us collectively, not just your house alone.”

  Hatos’Mok looked around the room. The looks on the others’ faces made it apparent that the favor of the group was not with him. He sat down abruptly and waved for her to continue.

  “As just announced, Tyria has had her offling. However, our situation here is not resolved. We have no Healer’s Helper, and as Tyria’s mate is not here, the burden on her as Healer and now as a mother will be considerable. Has anyone a suggestion for a Helper for the High Rocks?”

  Pratnl’Rar of the Little River spoke up again. “I have someone who is interested. His name is Jhotin. I brought him with me for you and your Healer to meet. He is not here in the room, however, not being part of our council.”

  “Thank you. We will meet with you after we adjourn.”

  Suddenly, a cold rush of wind swept in around the stone door.

  “This promises to be an exceptionally hard winter,” Pan said. “Are there any special needs that we could help each other with?”

  Tyria stood, still cuddling her son. “We have an abundance of Golden Seal this season. If any of you are lacking, I will be happy to share.”

  Dochrohan stood next, “We have more than enough Locust staffs if anyone is in need of them for winter spearfishing.”

  Pan smiled vaguely as the offers of help and sharing continued. She was brought back to the present by Tyria’s voice.

  “Pan,” whispered Tyria. “They are asking you when you and Rohm’Mok are to be paired.”

  Pan looked at Rohm’Mok, who nodded slightly.

  “Tomorrow morning perhaps, after first meal,” she said.

  In the back, Hatos’Mok glared at Pan, not even trying to hide his anger.

  After some more discussion, Pan dismissed the group.

  As everyone was leaving, her sister Inrion came up to her, “I am happy for you. Why did you not tell us?”

  “I was struggling with the final decision.”

  “Because of your concern for Rohm’Mok?”

  “Because of all my duties here,” Pan said.

  They stopped talking and turned as they heard voices rising from the back.

  “Why would you come here and cause trouble like that?” Rohm’Mok was standing off against his father. “I thought we settled this back home, with Mother.”

  “You thought, because it was settled in your mind, and because your mother took your side, that was all there is to it? I want the High Council to realize what sacrifice the Guardian is asking of another—and for purely selfish reasons.”

  “I cannot believe you are talking of her like this. This is the Guardian. I never heard you challenge Moc’Tor as you are doing Pan. He managed to be Guardian, Leader of Kthama and Overseer, and he was paired and also had a family.”

  “Yes, but—” Hatos’Mok stopped.

  “But what?”

  Hatos’Mok glanced over at Pan, apparently only now realizing that she and her sister were still present.

  “Finish it.” Rohm’Mok snarled.

  When his father remained silent, he said, “You were about to say this Guardian is a female.”

  Hatos’Mok narrowed his eyes and glared at his son.

  “I do not know why this should surprise me,” Rohm’Mok said, circling his father slowly.

  “After what you said back home about my mother and the females’ role. I did not realize this about you, Father. I am disappointed to learn you are shallow and narrow-minded.”

  Pan steeled herself to stay out of it. Had she not been the Guardian and merely the female involved, she might have intervened. But her position as Guardian carried too much authority, and this was not an offic
ial matter for her to resolve.

  She turned to her sisters. “Let us leave these two to work it out. I doubt it will come to violence.”

  Vel and Inrion nodded, and they gave the two male giants one last look before leaving.

  As they were walking, Vel asked, “Why did you not tell us that you had found someone?”

  “Too much was happening at once. I met him when I traveled to the Far High Hills. He was not one of the males to be considered, but the attraction was mutual, and it just took us over. I do not know how else to describe it. I have tried to fight it, but I cannot.”

  “Nor should you,” said Vel. “You have a right to happiness.”

  Back in the meeting room, tempers continued to flare. Rohm’Mok and his father still faced off, and others, who had stayed behind when father and son started exchanging words, were watching from a safe distance.

  “What is it you want me to say, Father? I have made my decision. And nothing you can say is going to change it.”

  “This is not the time for you to leave the Deep Valley,” Hatos’Mok said.

  “If I leave that up to you, there will never be a time,” Rohm’Mok answered.

  “If you must pair with the Guardian, then I will give you my blessing. Only wait for a few weeks.”

  “For what?” Rohm’Mok asked. “What difference will a few weeks make? Why the delay?” In a few weeks, Pan’s seeding would be apparent.

  “Because your mother is dying, that is why.”

  Rohm’Mok felt as if the slightest of breezes could have knocked him over. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Your mother. She is ill. She has only a short time left.”

  “That is preposterous. A trick. She is fine; I just left her!”

  “For the moment, she still appears fairly healthy. But she will quickly deteriorate. There is no question of it. It is not a trick. I speak the truth,” said Hatos’Mok. “And before you ask, no; there is nothing that Oragur or any of the Healers can do for her. Her body is losing blood faster than its creative force can replenish it.”