by D. C. Payson
“Wait,” Julia said. “I think I have a note for an Elder Domin written by my grandmother.” She reached inside her pouch and found the note, then she passed it across the table to Alana. “So maybe he does know something. Maybe he really could help!”
“It is not about whether he knows anything,” said Lothic. “It’s about whether he would share his knowledge with us if he did. The last time, it cost him greatly.”
“I do not claim to understand the affairs of the Rokkin, Lothic,” said Alana, scanning the old note. “Nonetheless, this note definitely gives us cause to see him, and I do not think that he would turn you away. Julia, do you know what became of the royal marker referenced here?”
Julia took out the gold medallion and placed it on the table. “I think this is it.”
Thezdan and Sinox stared at it in disbelief.
“Perfect!” Alana said. “Between that medallion and your necklace, Domin will surely not ignore us.”
“Mother, wait,” interrupted Sinox. “Is this really wise? I agree that there is likely great significance to Julia’s arrival; her necklace and this medallion prove as much. But we are not as strong as we once were. Going out into Party territory and exposing ourselves could be dangerous. The forest protects us only so long as the Party remains unwilling to risk a significant number of soldiers in order to hunt us down. I do not want to change their minds.”
“I appreciate your caution, Sinox,” replied Alana. “And I believe you are right to see danger ahead. That is why we must learn more about Julia’s arrival and her necklace: so that we can protect ourselves from whatever is coming. Lothic should be able to find Domin and get answers to our questions without bringing much attention to us.”
Sinox bowed his head. “Just be prepared, Mother. The plains have gotten no safer in recent years, and the Party no saner.”
“We will be careful, Sinox,” said Alana. “And prepared.”
Lothic resigned himself to her judgment. “I am to find Domin, then?”
Alana nodded. “Yes. I think he can be of great help to us.”
“Very well,” said Lothic. “I believe I know where he can be found. I will leave in the morning.”
Alana smiled. “Thank you, Lothic.” She turned toward Thezdan. “Eodan, I would like you to accompany him. Based on the supplies you leave us from time to time, I gather that you have some experience safely moving about on the plains.”
“Wait, what about Julia?” Thezdan said, surprised. “Should I not stay with her?”
“She will stay here, safe in the forest with me. Besides, she could probably use some time to rest and recover. Is that alright with you, Julia?”
“I guess so?” Julia replied nervously. “Would you be back soon, Thezdan?”
“We shouldn’t be gone long … not more than a day. But are you sure?”
Julia looked over at Alana. She sensed sincerity and kindness in her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll be alright.”
Thezdan sighed. “If it is your wish, Mother, I will go with Lothic.”
“Thank you, Eodan. You will leave in the morning. I do hope that you will take some time to be with the No tonight. They would so love to hear your stories.”
“Of course,” said Thezdan.
Alana pushed back from the table and stood up. “Eodan and Lothic, I wish you luck and success on your journey. Sinox, please check in with your sources on the plains—see if there is anything strange going on with the Party. The sooner we find out, the sooner we can begin to prepare. Also, let us keep Julia’s heritage a secret for now, even from our clansmen. There is much for us to learn, and we must be sure that she is safe in the meantime.”
“Yes, Mother,” said Sinox.
Alana began making her way to the front door.
“One last thing,” she said, turning around to face the group again, a big smile on her face. “Tonight we shall celebrate the return of an Eo. Enjoy yourselves, all of you!”
“Hail to the Party, Revolutionary Grimmel!”
Grimmel frowned as he alighted from the carriage, pausing to adjust the engraved, golden breastplate he wore over his tunic. His eyes scanned the decrepit, old village and the disheveled citizens standing in rows in the middle of the square.
“Remind me why I was summoned here?” he growled. “Did we not train and arm you to handle fellow citizens who step out of line?”
“Yes, Revolutionary Grimmel. Something unusual happened. We felt it was important enough to deserve your personal attention.”
Grimmel laughed contemptuously. “So then, what happened, Commander?”
The commander came around to Grimmel’s side and gestured toward the smithy at the far end of the square. “Over there. Three of our soldiers were killed as they tried to question some interlopers.”
“Interlopers? How bold. Southsiders?”
The commander shook his head. “No. They were disguised as hunters, and they were trading illegally with the citizen blacksmith. We’ve interrogated the blacksmith. He revealed that one of them was a member of the Guardian Clan. Eobax’s son, no less.”
“Really?” said Grimmel, genuinely surprised. “What about the second?”
“We don’t know. The charioteer we sent to capture them was also killed. But Revolutionary … um … ”
“Yes?”
“There are reports that she had a magical necklace of some kind.”
“A magic necklace? What do you mean?”
“A citizen over there,” said the commander, pointing to the man. “He approached the hunters. He startled the girl, and when she flinched, her magic necklace was revealed. He says it glowed like the sun!”
Grimmel’s eyes narrowed. “You brought me here to tell me that a piece of metal reflected the sunlight?”
The commander reached up and awkwardly scratched behind his ear. “Well, I don’t think, Revolutionary, well, the word came to me from below that it was, was, brighter—”
“Stop,” said Grimmel, dismissing the commander with a wave of his hand. “I will speak to the citizen who saw the hunters, address the crowd, and be gone. I do not wish to waste any more of my time. And Commander … I don’t expect you to give me occasion to return here. Do you understand?”
The commander nodded meekly.
Grimmel turned and began walking toward the rows of people in the square, his ambling gait accentuating his girth. In his presence, an obvious tension gripped the crowd, hundreds of eyes tracking his every movement.
He approached the man that the commander had pointed out to him earlier. “Hello, citizen.”
Staring straight ahead, the man called the expected reply: “Hail Great Revolutionary Grimmel!”
“You may address me now,” said Grimmel.
The man looked tentatively to his right, checking to see if it was, in fact, safe to look at the Supreme Leader of the People’s Party. “D-do you wish to hear of the girl, Rev-Revolutionary?” he squawked.
“I do,” Grimmel replied leadenly.
“Well, uh, I came up to her, and, and, we spoke for a moment, and I guess I fr-frightened her, because she fell backward. And then I saw it!”
“And what was that, citizen?”
“It, uh, was, uh, a necklace of some sort … a magic necklace! It glowed bright blue!”
Grimmel’s expression changed. “Bright blue? Are you sure it wasn’t a reflection, citizen?”
“Yes, Revolutionary. I, uh, I’m sure. It was a bright, blue light, and it was coming from the necklace itself!”
“I see,” muttered Grimmel, rasping the sharpened spines of his gauntlet against his armor. “Tell me, citizen, what kind of necklace was it?”
“Well, um, I-I don’t know?”
Grimmel lunged forward and grabbed hold of the man’s tunic, the gauntlet spines digging into the man’s flesh. Pulling the beggar closer, he stared into his eyes. The beggar caught a brief glimpse of the red-tinted flame behind Grimme
l’s pupils. He suppressed a scream but his mouth was agape, contorted by physical and psychological agony.
“Citizen, you’d best search further into your memory!” said Grimmel.
“Oh please!” sobbed the beggar. “Please Revolutionary! Have mercy!”
Grimmel released his grip and the man fell to his knees in a quaking heap. Grimmel knelt down beside him and spoke directly into his ear. “The necklace. Was it all metal? Was it thick? Thin? Was there writing on it? Or a symbol?”
The beggar looked up. “Yes! Yes! It was in the shape of a symbol, Revolutionary!”
“Tell me what it looked like!”
“I think it was one of the forbidden ones! The one like an arrowhead with a hole in it!”
Grimmel was stunned. The royal symbol? It’s not possible, not now!
Grimmel stood, paying no further attention to the beggar. He walked over to the podium. Their final victory was so close at hand, so very close. Yet, for the first time in ages, he found himself questioning its inevitability.
“Citizens,” he began, his booming voice filling the square, “now is a time for vigilance! We must be ever watchful, lest the progress of our glorious Revolution be lost at the hands of criminals!” He looked out across the square, soaking in the rapt attention of the crowd. “Citizens, will you stand with me and fight for the Revolution?” he called out.
“We will! We will!” the crowd shouted loudly in unison.
An arrogant grin crept up Grimmel’s face. Victory was still assured. By the Master’s hand, these lives would guarantee it.
Julia sat at Alana’s side at the end of a long table lively with feasting and conversation. Theirs was the women’s table, a large bonfire in the middle of the fort separating them from Thezdan and the men of the Clan. Candle-filled lanterns hung overhead, their soft glow catching the branches and canopy above in a way that made the fort’s courtyard feel like an enchanted hollow.
The table in front of her offered a great variety of foods gathered from the forest: grilled meats, fish, edible flowers, roots, vegetables, mushrooms, and more. At Alana’s insistence, Julia tried a little bit of everything, and was astonished by the richness and complexity of the flavors. The night was turning out to be everything she had imagined an old-fashioned feast might be.
“Out of curiosity,” Julia asked between bites, “why do you put the men and women at separate tables?”
“It is our tradition,” said Alana. “Now we are apart from the men of the clan, as if they were away in a distant field. After they hear our laments, they will cross the courtyard, past the bonfire, and reunite with us. Then we will sing and dance to celebrate the reunion.”
Julia smiled, appreciating the symbolism. She turned toward the men’s table, but it was obscured by the flames of the bonfire. “Can I ask you something else?” she asked quietly.
“Of course.”
“What happened to Thezdan? Why did he change his name? And why does he seem to spend most of his time outside the fort?”
Alana nodded to acknowledge the question, but the sadness in her eyes made Julia regret asking it.
“My son changed his name because he wished to leave,” said Alana. “A Thez is a ‘Searcher,’ one who lives separate from the Clan. It is not a common path for a Guardian.”
“But why did he leave?”
“Only he could tell you, but … ” Alana peered through the bonfire as if trying to catch a glimpse of her son.
“Please, Alana? I want to know him better, to trust him.”
“Of course. You ask a fair question, though it is not an easy one for me. In truth, I believe that Eodan has always felt guilty that he did not die alongside his father. A month before the Revolutionary Army came, he completed his sixteenth year and became a warrior, earning the En title. We knew that there was a new Purge underway, but we didn’t realize until much too late that we were one of its targets. When word came that five thousand army regulars were gathering in Riverstride with orders to march on the Trebain, Eobax knew that any who remained in the town would die. He ordered our son to lead the women and children to the forest while he and the Guardian En bought time by making their stand in the Trebain.
“Eodan resisted, of course. He tried to persuade his father that the job of leading the flight to the forest should be given to the Prime: Sithic, the man you know as Lothic. As fate would have it, Lothic was hurt later that day when he fell helping to prepare the ramparts for the defense. His leg was broken. Though he offered to stay, Eobax demanded that he accept retirement and be carted off to the forest with the rest of the Clan. It humiliated Lothic, but he accepted the judgment of the Eo. My son, too, ultimately accepted his father’s judgment, though never wholeheartedly. Eodan was brilliant during the escape. He disguised our movements well, effectively deployed scouts, and faced obstacles with a clear head. He was a natural leader, even in his youth. But shortly after we arrived here, he began to change.
“As Administrator, I elevated him to Eo, effectively making him a leader of the Clan. Wearing the same title as his father only worsened his guilt. He did a fine job helping to adapt the fort to a much larger population, but he lost interest in day-to-day affairs. He only wished to grow stronger so that he might exact his revenge on the Party. He trained with Lothic until he believed that Lothic had no more to teach; then, one day, about two years ago, he left. He occasionally comes by to leave us iron, skins, or food at the gate, but he has been living outside the Clan. Until today, I had not seen him for a long time.”
Julia sat in silence, thinking about what Alana had just shared. She remembered the anger she sensed when she clutched Thezdan’s hand, and it made her heart swell with sympathy for the burden he carried, hidden, inside.
“I have faith that it will end well, though,” said Alana, forcing a smile. “I still believe that, one day, he will return to us and embrace his role as a Guardian Eo. But come: this is a night for celebration. Can I offer you another roasted cambrea root?”
Julia partially covered her mouth as if to protect it from even one tiny bite more. “No thanks, I am totally full. Everything has been delicious. Thank you, again.”
“I am happy to hear it. I know it must be hard for you to be here, away from your family in a land you do not know. At the very least, I hope we can make you comfortable and keep you safe.”
Alana’s smile brightened. She reminded Julia of her own mother, not because of similarities in their eyes or lips, but because of the earnestness and kindness that both women carried at their core. Julia smiled back, a tear welling up in her eye. “I appreciate that, thank you.”
Alana placed her hand over Julia’s, squeezing it gently. “Are you alright?”
“I miss my family,” said Julia. “Being with you makes me think about my mom. She and I haven’t really had many close moments like this recently. I miss her.”
“I know how difficult it can be to be apart. We have a tradition based on what you’re feeling right now.”
Julia wiped her eyes. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
Alana rose from her seat and held out her hand. “Please, stand with me.”
A hush came over their table as Julia stood up beside her. The men, though out of sight, noticed their silence and quickly fell silent as well.
“Let us watch the fire together,” Alana said.
Julia felt a bit awkward, anticipating that, like a new student in a dance class, she would soon be lost in the ritual’s choreography. But Alana offered no further instructions; instead, she began to sing in a soft, melancholy tone. Julia watched the fire, allowing her mind to let go as she listened to the song. The language was one she hadn’t heard before, and no translation ever came. Other women added their voices. Each one knew her part and contributed to the beautiful, haunting harmony. The lapping flames and sorrowful melody filled Julia, bringing her back to her house in Malibu. She thought about her family—her mother, father, brother, grandmother—and h
ow deeply she missed them, even after so little time apart. It wasn’t until Alana let go of her hand that she realized that the song had ended.
“That was beautiful,” Julia said, wiping her eyes again.
Alana held out her palms and bowed. “Thank you for honoring us, Vorraver Julia. That song is our lament, sung in the old language of our ancestors. We no longer know the meaning of each word, but the lament is still well understood: it is a song of sadness at being apart from the ones we love and a plea to the Goddess to bring us together again.”
Julia was about to respond when she heard Thezdan’s voice boom from across the courtyard. “Women of the Guardian Clan, your Warriors have returned!”
With that declaration, the boys and young men erupted into a chorus of hoots and shouts, then they rose from their benches and ran across the courtyard toward the women’s table. The women greeted the approaching men with their own cries, their voices mixing into a great roar of frolic and excitement. Julia soon heard the sound of instruments filling the air, a group of musicians having used the chaos as a cue to start playing.
The musicians stood between the tables away from the bonfire. Five played what looked like smaller, rounder guitars, strumming out a fast-paced and lively tune; two others played wooden flutes; and the last one played an assortment of drums, including one very large one that let out a wonderful rumble when struck.
All the Guardians, young and old, were on their feet dancing to the music. Julia turned around at the table and watched, but she wasn’t quite in the mood for dancing. She kept thinking of her family in California. She wished she could be so easily reunited with them.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” came a deep voice next to her.
Julia turned to see Thezdan standing there, his arms crossed in front of him. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Are you feeling alright? Has my mother been good company?”
Julia chuckled. “Of course. She’s been great.”
“Why so glum, then?”
“Well … I never told you this, but just before I came here, my home burned down in a fire. I know that that’s not anywhere near as bad as what you’ve been through, but being here, listening to the women’s song, watching the bonfire here in the fort—it made me think about it. It made me think about my family even more. I miss them a lot.”
