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

by Roberts, Leigh

  Laborn dominated and overpowered his people. Nothing had ever been said about the dream they had all experienced; no one had dared mention it, fearing Laborn’s anger. And so, lacking any other guidance, his words found fertile ground in the hearts of his followers. Their grief turned to hatred. Their devastation to anger. Their heartache turned to vengeance. They ignored and dismissed the Rah-hora.

  The band of Mothoc rebels, born to the sacred service of Etera, had lost their way.

  Unable to unearth their lost loved ones, Laborn performed the Good Journey before gathering his followers and heading west, following the magnetic lines in search of another home. Now driven by a bloodlust for revenge, he vowed the new location would be located over a vortex strong enough for them to become unbeatable in numbers and in strength. And though Laborn had lost his way, he had found his purpose, his reason to live. Revenge.

  With his mother gone and his brother in place as Leader of the Deep Valley, Rohm’Mok took leave of his family and returned to his beloved at Kthama.

  They spent the day of their reunion in Pan’s quarters, trying to block out everything but their love for each other.

  When they had finished their lovemating, Pan leaned back against Rohm’Mok’s shoulder. “I said I would not speak of troubles, but there is something I cannot make peace with.”

  “What is it, my love?” Rohm’Mok asked, taking one of her hands and kissing her fingers.

  “It is the Akassa. The future belongs to them, yet their Leader seems hesitant. Unsure of himself.”

  “It is also true at the Deep Valley. They do defer to us in all matters. I understand and share your concern. Perhaps it is time for us to step back. Perhaps we should try harder in some way to transfer authority to them in each of the communities.”

  “The time of tracing the genetic bloodline through the females has passed. It has returned to the males, and we must press the Akassa descendants of each house to take over their own communities. Here, that would be Takthan from Ny’on’s line. Several of her daughters took up the call and were seeded by the Others, luckily, as that has preserved the ‘Tor line in the Akassa.”

  Rohm’Mok gently put her hand down and then laid his own on her belly. “How is our offling coming along?”

  “Whoever is in there, he or she is very calm, though it is still early days.”

  “While we have some time alone together, relax and let all your worries go,” said her mate. “Today is ours. Tomorrow we can once more pick up our worries and troubles.”

  Pan did not want to burden Rohm’Mok with her concerns, but the offling’s presence within her was so faint. She would have to talk with Tyria soon. Great Spirit, please, let our offling be healthy. Was it not enough that she had lost her father, her mother, and had to give up Liru to Oragur and his new mate? Why did it seem that she was being asked to give more of herself than she could almost bear?

  A pang of guilt shot through Pan as she realized she had still not yet visited the Aezaiterian flow, nor the Order of Functions since her parents’ deaths. I hear your call, and in time I will surrender. But not yet. Not yet.

  Back at Kayerm, Nox’Tor had disappeared into the background of the community, splitting his time between his own tasks and slipping away to solitude in the little cave he had made his second home.

  With Nox’Tor no longer in authority, Norland and Wosot fell into an easy stride together. A deep bond was forming between them, and they spent many hours discussing the future of the community. One of the greatest challenges was the rift between the males and females. It was clear that the females needed to pair and produce offling if the community was to survive. And it was not for their own sakes. That the Mothoc would vanish altogether at some point seemed inevitable, so for the sake of Etera, the Sassen must not.

  “It seems the females are still reluctant to choose a male,” said Norland. “We have so many who are ripe for seeding, yet they do not wish to pair. Do you have any insight?”

  “I would say they fear subjugation. Despite their longing to have offling, I believe they perceive that a pairing would put them under the domination of a male,” said Wosot.

  “How do we fix that? And is it true? Are we so domineering that we would overshadow our mates' wishes without knowing it?” Norland picked up a twig and twirled it between his fingers.

  “I believe their fears are warranted in some cases. It will take a while to undo the climate created by your father. He treated the females poorly. Forgive me, but it has to be said.”

  “I take no offense. You speak the truth. My father created an atmosphere of terror, passing females back and forth as if they were property. So it falls to all of us males. How do we gain their trust?”

  Wosot thought a moment. “Consider my relationship with Lorgil. We are not paired, yet she benefits from my protection. And in turn, she helps provide for me by way of the female’s contributions to any house. It is mutually beneficial with no imbalance of power between us. Perhaps if this model of the pod is offered to others, it will help our males gain the trust of the females.”

  “But without pairing, will the males agree to this? It is true that males have in the past had a pod of females, but it was not only as friends.”

  “It falls to us to make them understand it from the females’ perspective, and that ultimately this is the only way to mend the damage that Nox’Tor created. Once the females see that they are being fairly treated, perhaps the rift will narrow.”

  “My grandmother’s support would be beneficial,” Norland said. “Shall we go speak with her about this?”

  Wosot agreed, and they went in search of Toniss.

  Toniss and Trak were just coming back from fishing in the shallows next to the riverbank. Norland let out a whoot call to get their attention.

  The males stood and waited for Toniss and Trak to catch up to them. “May we have a word with you, Grandmother?”

  “Two of my favorite males; what are you up to? Planning something, no doubt?” Then she held up her catch for them to admire.

  “The spring waters are bringing us new blessings, I see,” commented Wosot at the hearty longfish in Trak’s basket.

  “Come, walk with us, please,” said Norland. “We need your advice.”

  Norland explained his and Wosot’s theory about the females. When they were done, Toniss and Trak agreed that their idea would be a wise one to implement.

  After another day of mulling it over, Norland called the males together to discuss what he was proposing. He helped them understand that with such an arrangement, perhaps in time, affection would grow between those in the pod, leading to pairing. Eventually, the majority of them agreed that such an arrangement with a female might be the only way to heal the division between them. Having gotten the males’ consensus, Norland called an assembly to share the plan with the females.

  Standing where his father, the great Straf-Tor, had stood many times to address the people of Kayerm, Norland explained his proposed alternative to pairing. When he was done speaking, Toniss stepped forward.

  “Our Leader is wise; I urge you to consider his proposal. Aside from the physical pleasure and the desire for offling, males and females need each other in different ways. Wosot and Lorgil are proof that this arrangement can work. You can speak about it with them if you like.”

  Far in the back of the crowd, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Nox’Tor silently fumed. He stared at Lorgil as she and Wosot stepped to the forefront to make themselves available for questions. As she came into full view, Nox’Tor’s brows lifted. He knew Lorgil’s every curve, every bend in her physical landscape, and her swollen belly was as obvious to him as a black crow against a cloudy winter sky.

  He clenched his fists and tried with all his might to control his anger. But when Wosot placed his hand on Lorgil’s back to encourage her to step forward again, Nox’Tor’s dammed-up anger broke.

  “Lies. It is all lies!” he bellowed as he broke from the back and started to pu
sh his way forward.

  “Your new leadership is lying to you! Do not be deceived by this false talk of the success of such an arrangement. My son presents Wosot and Lorgil as proof of the success of this so-called platonic pod. Yet, in truth, Wosot has placed his seed in Lorgil! Admit it!”

  The crowd parted for him, and within moments he was at the front, marching up to Wosot.

  “Traitor! Liar. I know that female. I lay with her many times; I know every inch of her. You have seeded her. What you are is a farce!”

  Nox’Tor then turned to Lorgil to confront her. “Admit it! Admit it! You are with offling!”

  “I do not deny it!” Lorgil shouted back, laying protective hands on her belly.

  “See!” Nox’Tor shouted. “She admits to it. They wish to sell you a concept they themselves, the shining example of this arrangement, could not honor. Lorgil is seeded!”

  “I have not touched her!” Wosot stated firmly in return. “You dishonor her and me with your false accusations. I had hoped you might change, Nox’Tor. But I can see now that it will never happen.”

  “You are the one who stands here covered in dishonor. Even now, with the proof in her expanding belly, you still deny the truth?” Nox’Tor moved toward Lorgil.

  Before he could take another step, Wosot sprang forward and jerked him back.

  Lorgil turned to the others present. “Wosot speaks the truth. There has been nothing between us except mutual assistance. He has never once touched me. The offling is not his; it is Nox’Tor’s.”

  She took a step toward her prior mate, knowing that Wosot had him firmly in hand. “The offling is yours,” she repeated. “I was seeded when you discarded me. You threw me away for being barren, not knowing that even as you rejected me, I was carrying your offling.”

  “No! You would have told me!” he shouted.

  “I would have told you, had you given me the chance. Instead, you were too busy forcing your will on us—that every female had to choose a mate whether she wanted to or not—and treating us like property. When you cast me aside, whatever I might have owed you as the father of my offling, your heartless actions forfeited.”

  Nox’Tor snarled and spat at Lorgil from within Wosot’s strong grip.

  Toniss stepped between Lorgil and Nox’Tor, forcing Lorgil to step back.

  “Enough of this,” she shouted. “Enough! Lorgil speaks the truth. We all saw it. You blamed her for being barren and cast her aside, intending to take a third mate. You forced her on Wosot, intending to punish them both, yet luckily for her, Wosot is an honorable male who has taken Lorgil in and done nothing but provide for her and treat her with respect. Something you never did for her or, lately, Kyana, either.”

  Nox’Tor struggled to break free. “I will never believe it. Not until I see the offling freed from her water cradle!”

  Norland spoke up. “Have it your way, then. Refuse to accept the truth, but in your refusal, stay clear of Lorgil. You are not to go near her. If you do, I will banish you from Kayerm.”

  “You would banish your own father?” Nox’Tor frowned and glared at his son.

  “If you leave me no choice. Yes. This is not about our relationship. This is about what is best for Kayerm. For all of us. I urge you to return to the life you have created by your own hand and do not make matters worse for yourself.”

  “Let me go,” said Nox’Tor, twisting to look up at Wosot. Norland nodded, and Wosot released his hold. Nox’Tor staggered a bit with the change in momentum.

  He briefly opened his mouth as if to say something to Wosot, then took one last look around, his eyes lidded with anger, and stormed off.

  The tension in the crowd lifted, and some chatter started up. Norland let it continue for a while before calling them back to order.

  “Listen to me. Consider my proposal. Take some time, both males and females, to find your own understanding of the wisdom in this arrangement. Whether we return to any male having more than one female remains to be seen. But if it comes to that, it will still always be at the females’ discretion. Now, go in peace. We will talk again.”

  The crowd slowly dispersed, many looking back at Wosot and Lorgil, discussing among themselves this last turn of events. Whatever sympathies arose for Nox’Tor, he seemed by his own actions to extinguish them each time.

  Several of the females encircled Lorgil, congratulating her on being seeded. To the side, knowing he could not see her, Kyana studied Wosot.

  He was a good male. It did not matter that he was older; any female would be blessed to stand at his side. What was she to do? When Lorgil delivered, what male would step up to protect and help raise the infant? The obvious answer was Wosot. He was kind and protective, and Lorgil was already under his care.

  Kyana was filled with concern. She knew that shared kindnesses brought people close, and it was clear that Wosot and Lorgil were helping each other on a daily basis. If she waited too long to decide, though there was no heat between Wosot and Lorgil at present, it was possible the relationship between them might catch fire.

  Toniss and Trak remained behind to speak with Norland.

  Once they were alone, Norland looked at his grandmother. “This is the hardest thing I have ever done. He is still my father. If there were problems between my mother and him, I was not aware of them. And then, when Straf’Tor left, it changed him. He became harsh and cruel. He turned into someone I have never known.”

  Toniss smiled kindly at the young male who had been forced to grow up so quickly. “You come from greatness. And you have greatness within you.”

  Norland frowned.

  “The blood of ‘Tor runs in your veins,” Toniss clarified, seeing the confusion on his face. “Look past your father’s failings and remember who you are.”

  “How are Dotrat, Lai, and Somnil coping?” Trak asked.

  “Dotrat is angry. He is confused by everything that has happened. Right now, he hates our father for how he treated Mother—and for hurting Lorgil. I pray it does not make him bitter. Being females, Lai and Somnil are naturally close to Mother, so the shock is not as great. But they are also affected, to be sure.”

  “She loves him,” Toniss said. “Your mother loves Wosot.”

  “I know,” Norland admitted. “And he loves her.”

  “But she loves all of you more,” added Trak. “Her first duty will always be to her offling.”

  Norland tilted his head, then looked down. When he looked back up at them, he had understood what Trak was trying to tell him.

  Norland found his siblings enjoying a break from their daily tasks. Dotrat was stretched out in the newly sprouting tall grasses, enjoying the fresh breeze drifting across from the river. Lai and Somnil were competing to see who could stack some river stones the highest before they toppled over. As Norland approached, he took a moment to enjoy the sound of his sisters’ laughter against the noise of the passing waters.

  Dotrat sat up at seeing Norland. “Greetings, brother!”

  Norland waved and continued his approach.

  “Should you not be out doing something Leaderly?” Dotrat good-naturedly chided his brother.

  Norland chuckled, “Probably. But I thought I should do something more important, such as check in on you all.” He sat down. “It is so pleasant here, far from the worries of the day.”

  “I am sorry you have worries,” said Dotrat. “I am not blind to the situation. He is, after all, still our father—as Mother keeps reminding us.”

  Norland sighed. “What do you think of all that is going on? Please, speak your heart.”

  “My allegiance is not as torn as yours—though, perhaps allegiance is not the proper word. I do not know when I will be able to forgive him.”

  “She loves Wosot, you know. And he loves her.” Norland looked over at his brother.

  “You are saying that they belong together? But she hesitates because of—us?”

  “That is my belief.”

  “Then we must reassure her. She deserve
s happiness. Everyone does.”

  “You are wise. Are you sure you are not the elder brother?”

  “You forget; I was not without influence. Recently, as I have been thinking about our upbringing, I realized that in many ways, Wosot was more involved with us than Nox’Tor ever was.”

  Dotrat’s use of their father’s name threw the truth of the situation up in Norland’s face. Was Dotrat right? Wosot did seem to have been involved with them all a great deal. I wonder if he has loved Mother all along, and we, being young, just did not see it.

  Wosot, Lorgil, and Kyana were enjoying a late afternoon walk along one of the higher elevations surrounding Kayerm. They chatted as they looked along the way for food stuffs to fill the carrying baskets. Wosot was holding his fishing spear and had added some longfish to their spoils. Lorgil walked with one hand rested on her expanding belly, and Wosot knew that she was delighting in the feel of the life within her.

  As they turned a corner, they looked up to see the dark figure of Nox’Tor blocking their path.

  Concerned, Wosot immediately stepped in front of Kyana and Lorgil.

  “I only wish to pass,” Nox’Tor said.

  “Then pass,” Wosot said, not wanting trouble with Lorgil and Kyana there. He stepped to the side, though he put a protective arm out across the females.

  Nox’Tor walked by, then stopped and turned back.

  “You think you have won. You have both my females, it is true. But only for the moment, I assure you.”

  “Drop this, Nox’Tor,” Wosot warned. “It will only lead to your banishment. What has been done was by your own hand. It was you who cast both Lorgil and Kyana aside.”

  “Perhaps, but you lost no time claiming them both,” Nox’Tor snarled.

  “It was you who forced Lorgil into my care. As for Kyana, she has the right to choose with whom she wishes to associate. I have touched neither, I assure you.”