Alija strolled to the rail and retched violently over the side. He stood for a while, white knuckles holding fast to the railing as he peered at the vegetation below. Aibek followed and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Taking a life was hard on a person, even when you knew they'd kill you if you didn't.
“You all right?” Aibek asked softly.
Alija nodded and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. Aibek worked to contain his own emotions as Alija’s tear-filled eyes met his.
“Let’s get back to the others.” Aibek gently guided his new friend toward Valasa’s retreating form.
The Gadonu walked back toward the Meeting Hall. “Well, let’s see to cleaning up the mess and disposing of their remains, then we’ll talk about what they wanted. Did you get any answers from them?”
Wayra nodded and filled him in on what Namay had told them.
Aibek added, “That makes sense. The other one said something about the wood being more valuable than gold.”
Valasa opened the door and waited for the younger men to enter before following them. “I think it’s time to elect a council and begin to make some hard decisions. Helak won’t stop sending messengers. When these two don’t return, he’ll likely think the worst and send an army. I don’t believe his only goal is to build a city.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon quietly cleaning up the mess from the fight but had their families spread the word that a village meeting would be held in the Meeting Hall just after sunrise the next morning.
* * *
Ahren greeted the weary men with a tray of cookies when they finally made it back home. Valasa declined politely and retreated to his workroom, and Dalan and Faruz walked by as if she hadn’t spoken, but Aibek gratefully accepted the offer. He was starving. He downed three cookies before he noticed the worried expression on Ahren’s face. She was ignoring him, entirely focused on her brother’s tear-stained countenance.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on her brother’s shoulder.
Dalan nodded and took a cookie from the tray. He didn’t say more, so Aibek answered for him.
“No one here is used to battle. It’s hard to get past the guilt that comes when you take a life, even when you know it’s your life or his. Just give him a little time.”
Ahren sighed and nodded, then moved to hand her brother a carved wooden cup filled with water. Aibek watched her closely. He hadn't seen her so quiet and supportive. Tear stains streaked her face. Her eyes were red, too.
Why has she been crying? Shouldn’t she be relieved and happy, like everyone else?
Aibek shrugged away his questions and trudged up the stairs to his room. He really wanted to be alone for a while. Faruz followed him up the stairs but continued down the hall to his own room.
I guess he needs some quiet time, too.
* * *
“We’ve been locked in here for forty-two days," Eddrick moaned. "I’ve watched as Koviom turned full twice and Ilodus went from full to new and nearly back again; finally, finally, all three will be full tonight. Is anyone coming to let us out? What if they’ve forgotten us? We could be stuck in here for eons before the ancestors free us.”
“Thrimanca won't be full until tonight, but I wouldn’t get too worried just yet. I’m sure someone'll be here soon.” Kiri sat calmly on the couch and stared into space while her husband paced the room.
She hoped Agommi would return this morning and free them; she desperately wanted to know what was happening in Nivaka, and how the villagers liked her son. She had stayed near Aibek through his entire life and had enjoyed watching him grow into the strong young man he had become.
The time locked in their suite had been excruciating. Kiri glanced around at the pile of scarves and blankets she had knitted. She'd never gone so long without checking on her boy. Eddrick hadn’t fared any better and had worn a track in the golden wood floor with his pacing. She sometimes envied her husband’s boldness in appearing to the living. She didn’t think anything could be better than talking to her son, but she'd always feared the consequences would be unbearable. These long weeks had proved her right.
Finally, after several hours, a loud clack echoed outside, and she stood beside her husband in front of the sofa. A few moments later, the only door to the large room opened, and Agommi entered.
“I hope these weeks haven’t been too awful for you. The ancestors have discussed your situation at great length and have decided there’s nothing more to be done. You are free, but be careful—they’re watching you closely.”
“Thank you, Agommi,” Kiri wept as she caught him in a strong hug. “Being trapped here was beyond terrible.”
“You can say that again,” her husband chimed in. “I’ve never been so miserable. Thank you for freeing us, Father. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“I hope so,” the old man replied as he released Kiri and hugged his son. “Believe me, I know this is hard, but you cannot interfere any more in the world of the living. We still don’t know what consequences your meddling will have on the future.”
As soon as he'd finished speaking, Agommi left the room and closed the door behind him. Eddrick stared at his wife for a moment, then headed for the door.
“I’m going to check in with Valasa,” he blurted out just before he ripped the door open. He was gone before Kiri could react.
With her heart in her throat, she followed her husband out the door. She wouldn’t follow him to Valasa’s house. She decided to wander around Nivaka and listen to what people were saying about her son.
* * *
Dinner that evening was an unusually quiet affair. Aibek scooted his food around his plate, distracted by worries over what a village meeting entailed, and how he and Faruz would fit into the plans. He pondered the topic of a mayor.
Will they bring up the mayor's empty house? What if they nominate me for the role? What if they don't?
He couldn't decide which would be worse.
Based on what Faruz had said earlier in the day, he thought his friend was probably worried that the villagers wouldn’t allow him to join the meeting. In a way, his concerns were valid. He had no justifiable reason to be included; he wasn’t family to anyone in the village. Still, Aibek hoped Faruz would be able to join the meeting, even if he wasn’t allowed to vote.
After dinner, Aibek went straight to his room. He didn't have the energy to smile and socialize with the family. He flopped into his favorite chair by the fireplace and stared out the window, basking in the silence of the room. He wasn’t alone for long before Faruz slipped through the door.
“Are you all right?” Faruz's face reflected his concern.
“I’m fine, but I’m a little worried about our new friends. They didn’t handle that so well, did they?”
“I think they’re trying to figure out how to cope.” Faruz crossed the room and sank into the chair next to Aibek’s. “You and I knew to expect these reactions, but they’ve never had anyone to teach them. I can’t help but wonder how they managed after they killed Tavan and his guards. They seem to have recovered quite well.”
Aibek nodded and stayed quiet. He didn’t want to mention his worries about the meeting. Faruz had never understood why he got so anxious about things like that. Still, he wondered if he would have to decide whether to accept the position as mayor or worse if the people would decide they didn’t want him to fill that role. He stared silently into the empty fireplace for a long while.
Eventually, Faruz yawned and stood. “I’m going to get some sleep. You should try to rest, too.” He didn’t wait for Aibek to respond before he strode out the door and down the hall.
Aibek woke earlier than usual the next morning, and Serik entered soon after, carrying a tray of muffins, fruit, and famanc as he did each day. Faruz strolled in behind the servant, settling into the soft chair to the right of the fireplace and staring out the window at the early morning light.
Serik greeted Aibek cheerfully. “Good mo
rning, my lord. This'll be an important day for you. The talk in the kitchen is a new council will be elected today, and you'll be installed as mayor. This is the day you’ve been preparing for your entire life!” Serik smiled broadly at the younger man as he handed him a plate.
Panic welled in Aibek’s stomach. He snapped at his friend. “I really wish you’d stop calling me that. I’m not your lord. I’ve never paid you a penny. You’re my friend, not my servant.”
It had bothered him for years, but Aibek had always held his tongue to keep from hurting the old man’s feelings. That day, his nerves were on edge, and he wanted his friend's support without the artificial rank imposed by an antique tradition.
Serik shook his head. “I believe you are mistaken, sir. Your parents paid me handsomely the night we fled Nivaka. Your mother handed me a purse containing more coin than I could spend in a lifetime. That money paid for your education and purchased our supplies to travel here. I consider myself paid for the rest of my life, and have more than enough to retire on eventually. For now, it's enough to see you take your rightful place among the people of Nivaka.”
The old man grabbed Aibek in a fragile hug, clung for a breath, and turned to the wardrobe, laying out clothes for the day ahead.
Chagrined, Aibek quietly dressed. He'd had no idea his parents had paid their servant so well since he had never known enough to ask anything about it. He could've missed any number of details over the years. He silently vowed to be more careful in his treatment of his friends.
The rest of the morning passed in relative silence, including the walk to the meeting hall. Aibek found himself too absorbed in his thoughts and worries to make polite conversation, and he thought Faruz was a bit preoccupied, too. Villagers filing quietly and quickly toward the meeting filled the boardwalk, an occasional greeting and response punctuating the otherwise silent procession.
The walk took only a few minutes, and soon they entered the same heavy, engraved doors they had used the day before. Now that all the lamps gave off light, Aibek could see the room in its entirety. It was strikingly simple in comparison to the rest of the village. There were no carvings or embellishments here, only plain green walls and unadorned wooden benches and tables. The sole artwork in the room was a single painting of a shadow tree covered in large blue blossoms that hung above the long desk at the front of the room. The picture was nearly as wide as the table; its branches spread to a broad canopy covering the entire council space.
The villagers filled the room, each headed to designated seats that correlated to the part of the village where they lived. The citizens in the rear of the room wore noticeably worn and faded clothing, and Aibek realized he hadn’t had much interaction with anyone from the edges of town.
What do they do to contribute?
Serik had explained that everyone in the village had a purpose, a role they filled in the daily running of the town. The elders and administrators lived near the center of the village, and the majority of the homes in the middle area homed wood carvers, millers, and seamstresses. The craftsmen had long been the backbone of the community, Aibek had learned. Even during Tavan’s reign, they had continued to hone their crafts and had sold their wares to Helak’s men.
Valasa had arrived before the rest of the family and stood at the back of the room holding a hushed conversation with a group of elderly men. Other small groups clustered around the room, each carrying on quiet discussions. Ayja led her family to their designated seats and pointed Aibek, Faruz, and Serik to a row of chairs just in front of her own.
Within a few minutes, everyone in the room had settled into their seats, and Aibek realized with a start that they were the only ones in the front row. Only the rail stood between his chair and the table that was the focus of the room. He felt conspicuous and on display, and every villager stared at his small group as they waited for the meeting to start.
After what felt an eternity, but was only about ten minutes, Valasa came and stood in front of the table. “Today is the day we have both anticipated and dreaded for many years,” he began.
Aibek jumped a little at the sudden booming speech.
“We are once again free,” Valasa continued, “and need the leadership of an elected council. Our enemy has not forgotten us. Before long, more warriors will descend upon our village, and we must be prepared to defend ourselves, or meet the same fate as before.”
A chorus of gasps went up from the crowd. Aibek wondered what they had expected to hear, that those words came as such a surprise.
“In order to get through our business today, we will vote on all measures before taking a brief recess to allow the ballots to be counted.” Valasa continued speaking as if the villagers hadn’t reacted. “Once the votes have been counted, the meeting will resume to announce the results. Beneath each of your seats is a stack of papers and a pencil. You will use these to cast your votes.”
His booming voice projected to every corner of the room, and as soon as he quieted each citizen shifted and gathered the supplies from beneath their benches. Quiet murmurs and shuffling papers filled the room for several minutes.
Aibek leaned over to Serik and whispered, “Can everyone here read and write, then?” Only the wealthy in Xona were literate, so the announcement of written votes struck him as decidedly odd.
“Yes,” Serik whispered back. “Your father’s grandfather—the one that designed the stairs—felt it was important for the people to be able to read and write so they could draw up contracts and take orders from clients in the market town.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” Aibek nodded and settled back into his chair, waiting for the voting to begin.
He glanced over at Faruz, who clutched his paper in his lap and grinned.
The first part of the meeting passed quickly, with a dozen individuals nominated for council seats, and votes cast. As the last order of business, Valasa asked the villagers to vote on whether to install Aibek as mayor, as would be expected by their customs. He gave them the option to be led solely by the authority of the council, with no mayor as head of the village. He recognized that some had voiced concern that a mayor who wasn’t raised in Nivaka could not effectively lead them.
Aibek smiled a little at this since he didn’t want to be voted in solely because there was no other choice. He still wasn’t sure he was capable of leading anyone, let alone this incredible town. He debated on whether he would accept the position if they voted him in, or respectfully decline. Strangely, the overwhelming anxiety he had suffered through the past weeks had vanished. He felt calm and collected and ready for whatever might happen.
The fairies carried baskets among the rows and aisles, collecting the ballots for each vote in a different bucket. They wore sober brown and green outfits that were appropriate for the occasion, rather than the bright colors they'd sported at the banquet.
After a long morning, the meeting broke for lunch and for counting the ballots. There was little conversation outside the meeting hall, and each family group went home for a quick luncheon before the meeting resumed. Aibek ate his meal without tasting the food. Some of his anxiety had returned during the assembly, and his stomach twisted when he thought about the results of the vote. He hated that he'd spent so much time confined indoors after his injury and hoped he'd made a positive impression on the villagers in the brief time he'd socialized. However, he still wasn’t sure he could be the mayor they needed. The noon hour passed in a blur of anxiety and concern.
Finally, it was time to return to the meeting hall. The villagers arrived early and took their seats, everyone eager to hear the results of the voting. Once again, Valasa stood at the front of the room, calling the meeting to order and beginning to announce results.
“It is the will of the people that Aibek, son of Eddrick and Kiri, be installed as the new mayor of Nivaka.”
His words landed with the force of a boulder on the one they most concerned. He felt as if someone had dumped ice water into his veins. He was both ela
ted that the villagers trusted him enough to vote him in as mayor and terrified that he would lead them wrong. While he wrestled with his reactions, he forced himself to pay attention as Valasa read the rest of the results.
“The new council will be made up of the following members: Alija, Kai, Dalan, Wayra, and Zifa,” Valasa continued. “Many of you voted for me, even though I was not nominated. While I am honored by your confidence in me, I am not able to take an elected position. My role as Gadonu requires that I remain an impartial advisor to the council, but I am grateful for your votes. Now, will our newly elected council please come forward?”
Valasa nodded to Aibek when he hesitated.
The council lined up in front of the table. Valasa gestured for Aibek to stand on his right, and the others lined up shoulder to shoulder beside the mayor. The sole person on the stage that he hadn’t met was Zifa, though he recognized her as the same young woman Faruz had entertained at the picnic.
Was that only yesterday? It felt like a month, at least.
She was tall for a woman and slim. Her capped-sleeve dress revealed slender, muscular arms, and he wondered what she did that made her so strong. Her eyes were a striking turquoise color that stood out against her long black hair.
Valasa turned to Aibek first and swore him in as the new mayor of the village of Nivaka. He repeated the vows solemnly and felt the weight of the oath settle upon his shoulders. Valasa patted his shoulder and turned to the next person in line, swearing in each council member, one at a time.
Once all the newly elected leaders had said their vows, Valasa presented the council to the villagers and adjourned the meeting. The new leaders remained at the front of the room, and all their constituents came forward to shake their hands and congratulate each of them. Several villagers told the new mayor how much they had loved his parents, and how they hoped he would follow in his father’s footsteps. A few even mentioned a family resemblance. Aibek smiled at the comparison and welcomed the thought that he looked like a man who was so well-loved by the citizens he had once led. He hoped he could live up to the legacy.
The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set Page 12
