The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set

by Leslie E Heath

  The server plunked three heavily laden plates down on their table, along with two crocks of broth.

  "Thank you, ma'am." Handing her the correct number of silver pieces, Faruz stood and gathered the dishes. They would eat with the others in the sick men's room.

  Faruz and Hekma balanced the plates and drinks and made their way down the narrow hall. They had dropped several dishes over the past few days but had learned to manage the load. When they reached the room, Faruz knocked and waited for the door to open. A wave of relief washed over him at the sight of Amiran sitting up on the rumpled bed. His pallor had improved, though his color wasn't healthy yet. Most importantly, the swelling in his arms had subsided enough that the bandages hung loose and limp around his wrists, exposing angry welts where the poisoned thorns had sliced his skin.

  He looked up when Faruz and Hekma entered, a smile stretched across his wan features.

  “Hello. What have you got there? I’m starving!”

  Faruz laughed and handed him the crock.

  Across the room, Wayra snorted and shifted in bed. He had awoken briefly earlier in the day, but still needed more time to recover.

  “What? Only broth? I’m going to need something with a bit more substance.” Amiran pulled the lid off and set it on the table and took a long gulp from the crock.

  “Ah, that’s good.”

  Grinning, Faruz sat down and took a bite of food. The roast was perfectly seasoned if a bit tough, but the root vegetables were tender and succulent. He slathered butter over the hard brown roll and downed it in two bites. He would miss the food when they moved on; they wouldn’t have anyone to cook for them until they returned to Kainga.

  Dalan and Hekma followed his lead and plowed into their meal, while Amiran guzzled the heavy broth. Silence reigned as the friends relished their meal. Faruz gave Amiran a second course of bread. The healer had left instructions to increase his meals from broth to bread on the first day he awoke and to begin introducing regular foods again on the next day. The healer would return in the morning to replace the bandages and apply his ointments to Amiran's arms. Hopefully, Dalan would awaken before then, and they could plan their departure.

  Faruz set the food on the table and settled into the comfortable chair. Dalan and Hekma sat on the floor in front of the fire, and Amiran reclined in the other chair.

  After he had grabbed a roll and taken a bite, Faruz looked around at the others. “We should get to know each other better before we head off into the swamp.”

  Dalan nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. Why don’t we each tell something about our lives before Helak invaded, or before we took the village back.”

  “I’ll go first.” Faruz smiled. “How much do you know about Xona?”

  “Not much. Just that it’s in the far north, and there aren’t many trees.” Amiran shook his head. “Why would people want to live where there’s no trees?”

  “Xona has plenty, even without trees. The prairie in the summer wind looks like a golden sea; the grasses blow in waves around the city.” He closed his eyes and pictured the home of his youth glittering in the summer sun and surrounded by the waist-high grasses.

  “But beyond the beauty of it, there’s a strength, a resilience to the people there. In the academy, they taught us the history of the city.” He stared into the fire and gathered his thoughts. “When my grandfather was a child, the city was besieged by an army from the mountains. They wanted access to the river and the iron mines. The leaders saw the army coming, and put the miners to work in the stone quarry north of the city.” Faruz smiled. “We needed a wall, they said. The miners and soldiers worked together with every able-bodied person in Xona, and in less than a season, they had built a magnificent wall surrounding the city. The wall kept the army at bay and protected their access to the river. The army camped outside the city for a year, but couldn’t get over the wall. Eventually, they gave up and went home.” He closed his eyes and remembered the glittering city. “The stone in that region is veined with quartz and granite, so the wall sparkles like a jewel in the sunlight.” He sighed and looked around.

  “That’s pretty impressive, but now it’s my turn.” Dalan grinned. “About a hundred years ago–”

  "Aw come on! No one needs to go back that far!" Hekma jeered. He poked at the dwindling fire and dropped a new log on.

  “You’ll have your turn in a minute. For now, just listen.” Dalan pointed to Faruz. “He probably hasn’t heard Nivaka’s history.”

  Hekma, Dalan, and Amiran all turned to Faruz who shook his head. He didn’t know much about his new home. His time there had been spent preparing for battle and recovering from his wounds. He had never thought to ask about the history beyond what he needed to know to defend the village.

  "All right, then." Dalan grinned. "About a hundred years ago, Aibek's great-grandfather took over as the mayor of Nivaka. The stories claim he was a troublesome youth, always tinkering with something and never paying attention to his studies." Dalan knotted his hands in his lap as he spoke, glancing up periodically to see if the others listened. "Once he became the mayor, this man decided he wanted to improve our village. He spent years designing, testing, and perfecting the mechanism that makes our stairs work, but he struggled through every step because the blacksmiths couldn't read his instructions, and drawings alone weren't enough." He waited while Hekma stirred the fire. "He proclaimed that since Nivaka's economy worked on craftsmanship, the citizens should be able to read and write, so they could take orders and remember what they were supposed to do. Before long, he formed schools for the children and held classes for the adults and made sure every person in Nivaka could read and write. Then, when he could better communicate with the craftsmen, they made the stairs according to his design. My father still keeps those drawings and instructions in his study, and the craftsmen use them to make new parts when the mechanism fails or wears out."

  “Are you done now?” Hekma asked with a laugh. “Can I talk?”

  Faruz glanced over at Amiran. He had fallen asleep during Dalan’s tale, a small stream of spittle running out his open mouth.

  “I think we should continue this another day.” He pointed to the sleeping man. “We need to get him to bed. He needs to rest so we can be on our way.”

  Hekma heaved a disappointed sigh but didn’t protest. The three of them worked together to get Amiran back to the bed. Faruz stayed to take his turn at the watch while the other two retired to their room.

  As he settled back in his chair, his sore leg propped on a stool, he glanced over to Wayra’s still form, froze, and jumped up.

  “You’re awake!” Faruz beamed.

  “Thirsty,” Wayra croaked.

  Faruz scrambled for the water pitcher and supported Wayra’s back as he drank.

  “Do you want some broth? It’s cold by now, but might help you get your strength back.”

  The silence stretched as Wayra propped himself up against the pillows. Finally, he grinned.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll take some broth, even if it is cold. I’m hungry.”

  As Faruz reached for the crock, Amiran snored and rolled over.

  “How’s he doing?” Wayra gestured to the sleeping man.

  Grabbing the broth from Faruz, he gulped the dark liquid.

  When he finished and set the crock on the table, Faruz smiled. "He's weak but getting stronger. He was awake for a while this evening." He laughed. "You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you awake. I didn't think you were going to pull through."

  Wayra dropped his gaze to the blankets. “I’m so sorry. I led him straight to those berries and didn’t think twice about it. I thought they looked familiar, but I hadn’t seen atpyrum bushes in years.”

  “What did you call them?” Faruz tried to place where he’d heard that term before.

  “Atpyrum. It’s the same thing Ahni’s friends used to poison our bedlinens last year.”

  “Oh. Right.” Faruz sighed and settled back into his chair. “I k
new it sounded familiar. It didn’t look like the same rash, though.”

  “It was worse because this time we were stupid enough–” Wayra cut off as a huge yawn escaped him. “–to let the brambles break the skin.”

  “It’s getting late. You should rest and get your strength back.”

  Wayra yawned again. “All right.” He snuggled down into the blankets.

  Within moments, Wayra let out a snore, and Faruz smiled. Relief washed over him as joy welled up within him.

  Warm in the knowledge that his friends would survive, Faruz stretched his sore leg, massaging the muscles above his knee when they threatened to cramp up.

  * * *

  “Yes, I think they’re recovering nicely. They should both be ready to travel tomorrow, I would think.” The healer smiled and nodded as he bent over Amiran’s arm, applying his poultice and bandages yet again. He turned his back to Faruz and met Amiran’s eyes. “You will need to rest today and eat good, hearty food, and you will do just fine on the road.”

  “So, no more broth and bread?” Amiran’s expression brightened at the prospect, and a grin stretched across his face.

  “No, you will need meat today to build your strength.” The little man nodded once, patted the neatly tied bandage, and stood.

  “Really? Both of us?” Wayra exclaimed.

  Androu’s bald head bobbed once, but he didn’t look up. “Really. You’ll both need red meat in you if you want to travel tomorrow.”

  He gathered his supplies and turned to where the two injured men sat. “No more berries. At least not until you learn to tell which thorns will cut you, and which will kill you.”

  He nodded to the others and swept out of the small room.

  Amiran turned his grin toward Faruz. “So? When do we eat?”

  The room erupted in laughter, and Faruz waved to the door. They hurried out of the room toward the dining hall. Amiran took the healer's words to heart and finished three bowls of venison stew, along with an entire basket of bread. Wayra did his best to keep up, but couldn't eat as much as the larger man.

  Faruz smiled and laughed through the meal. Having the whole group at the table was good. It would be even better to get out of the inn and back on the road. They had a job to do. Should he send a message to Nivaka to inform the council of the delays? No. He wouldn't be able to trust any messenger in Kainga since any of them could be working for Helak. It was better to complete their task and hurry home. They would wait and explain the delay in person.

  The day passed in a flurry of food and laughter. Dalan and Hekma made a short trip to the market to stock up on portable foods and find a lightweight tent, while Faruz settled their account. The six days they had delayed had felt like a month, and Faruz couldn’t wait to get back to their task. The travelers gathered their belongings and prepared to leave at dawn.

  * * *

  A biting wind from the south greeted him as Faruz stepped out of the inn. Faruz pulled his cloak tighter and thanked the trees that the wind would be at their backs. The cold made his leg ache, but he worked to conceal his limp as they left the town behind. They walked through the morning without stopping. Faruz kept a close watch on Amiran and Wayra, looking for any sign of fatigue or weakness.

  Just before the sun reached its zenith in the azure sky, Amiran swung around to face Faruz.

  “Why do you keep staring at me like that? I’m not going to fall over, you know. I’m still a bit weak, but walking feels good.”

  Faruz laughed. “I’m just happy to see you up and about. You had me worried for a while there.” He turned and met Wayra’s eyes. “You, too.”

  “No kidding!” Dalan dropped back and walked next to Amiran. “What a way to start a journey!”

  The two made such a comical pairing that Faruz dropped back to observe. Amiran’s height made him stand out among ordinary men, but he looked like a giant next to Dalan’s diminutive form. The top of Dalan’s head barely reached Amiran’s elbow, and Faruz gave silent thanks that the large man had made it to the ferry under his own power. They wouldn’t have been able to support him like they did Wayra.

  “I’ll be more careful from now on.” Amiran’s voice drew Faruz’s attention back to the moment. “I should have realized those thorns were red for a reason.” His voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “I am sorry, you know?”

  “I don’t know why you’re apologizing,” Wayra said. “I’m the one that found the berries and pointed them out.”

  “No sense in fighting over who’s to blame. It’s all right now,” Hekma shouted over his shoulder from his spot at the front of the group. “Especially now that we’re back on the road. Let’s get this fruit so we can get back to the forest already!”

  Another gust of wind cut across the hills and hurried the travelers on their way. They walked on until the sun dropped toward the horizon and the first moon, Koviom, appeared in the eastern sky. The sun still hovered well above the distant hills, but Faruz’s leg throbbed from activity, and Wayra’s pallor had returned.

  They worked together to gather what twigs they could find, and Hekma killed three doves by throwing stones at them. Faruz had never seen anything like it and vowed to learn that hunting technique before they returned to Nivaka.

  When they were settled around the fire after they’d eaten and cleaned up their dinner, Hekma cleared his throat.

  “I never got to tell my history the other night, and neither did Amiran or Wayra. I think now’s the perfect time for that.”

  Faruz nodded. “All right, that sounds good to me. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Though the sun had set, darkness had not fully descended over the hilly landscape, and brilliant oranges and reds still brushed across the sky. Faruz leaned back, massaging his sore leg and listened to the sounds of the night around him. The strange silence of the plain disturbed him.

  Are there no frogs or insects here?

  He sighed. With winter fast approaching, those creatures would be hunkered down somewhere to wait for spring. In the distance, an owl hooted. The logs popped and settled, and Faruz opened his eyes, glancing around the small circle at his friends.

  Hekma leaned close to the fire, the light sharpening his features and giving him a fierce, dangerous look.

  “My story is less of a history tale, and more of a reminder. For decades under Eddrick’s father’s rule, and then Eddrick’s time after him, Nivaka’s citizens lived in peace with my people.”

  Faruz stared, waiting to hear more. “If they lived in peace then, why is the animosity so strong now?”

  “The truce was never broken,” Hekma continued as if Faruz hadn’t spoken. “Elves, dwarves, and tree-dwellers would hunt and fish together and sometimes even paired off into couples.”

  “What? Now I know you’re lying!” Dalan jumped up and shouted at the dwarf. “The ground folk and the Nivakans have never intermarried!”

  "Woah! Who said anything about getting married? I just said they spent some quality time together, you know?" Hekma's eyebrows waggled, and Faruz stifled a laugh.

  “It’s true, though. Look around your little group of friends in Nivaka. Doesn’t Kai’s family rather resemble the dwarves of Kasanto? His grandmother spent some time with one of our men. And you–” He broke off and met Dalan’s angry stare.

  “Your grandmother spent some special time with the King’s own brother. Haven’t you ever wondered where your mother’s size and white hair came from? And she passed it along to you and your sister.”

  “No! You’re lying!” Dalan’s hand shook as he pointed at the dwarf, his face contorted with rage.

  Hekma reclined backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he stretched his legs out toward the fire. “Have you ever seen the paintings of your grandmother in her youth? I have. She was tall and lovely, with eyes the color of caramel and chestnut hair. How did such a woman bear a daughter who was half her height, with such striking hair and pointed features?”

  Faruz threw his hands up. “Enough. If
what you’re saying is true, why has no one brought it up before now? And why have your people attacked us at every opportunity? Why the change?”

  “Well, we spent twenty years fighting with those lowlifes that ran your village after Eddrick. That kind of history doesn’t go away just because the leadership changed hands.” He paused to brush away a morsel of fowl on his shirt. “Besides, how were we supposed to guess what kind of leader your friend would turn out to be? He wasn’t raised by his father, and he had no idea how to behave in the forest or in our village.”

  Faruz shrugged and inspected Dalan’s face in the flickering light of the fire. He wasn’t as red now, but his stiff posture and the grim set of his mouth betrayed his fury. It must have been quite a shock for the young man, but even Faruz could see the probability of elvin lineage in his friend’s features, build, and hair.

  A gentle snore broke the quiet and Faruz glanced at the spot where Wayra had stretched out.

  “I think that’s enough tales for one night.” Faruz stood and stretched. “Let’s get some sleep so we’ll have the strength to push farther tomorrow. Amiran, you take the first watch, then Dalan, I’ll take third, and Hekma can have the sunrise. I think Wayra still needs a bit more rest.”

  12

  Emrialk

  Eddrick closed the door and leaned back, soaking in the relative security of their assigned room. What had gone wrong? He ran through the entire hearing but couldn’t figure out what he had said to trigger such a strong reaction from the ancients.

  What exactly had the spirit meant with that warning about tomorrow?

  He had too many questions and no answers and wished he had someone he could ask for advice, but Agommi hadn’t returned yet.

  Across the room, Kiri threw herself face down onto the bed. "I had hoped that we'd be able to go home tonight. What do you suppose Aibek's been up to these past three weeks? He must be wondering where we are."