The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set

by Leslie E Heath

  Intense green eyes bored into his, willing him to understand the gravity of her words. “You must not remove those until you are within the forest. Do not allow them to touch your food, and protect them from any injury. They are very delicate. Now, go. Save my sister, and I will aid in your battle against your oppressor.”

  Faruz stared at the stern-faced tree. How did she know about Helak?

  “Go! My friend will show you the best way back to the old road.”

  Her shout spurred him into motion, and he followed the serpent through the trees and into the deepening swamp. The snake cut between close-growing trees and swerved around bottomless chasms. The sun slipped below the horizon as they stepped into the open air beyond the trees. Faruz turned back to the snake.

  “Thank you.”

  The serpent twisted back on itself and returned with Amiran's cloak clasp in its mouth. Stretching forward, the creature dropped the pin into Faruz's outstretched hand, dipped its head and slid back into the water.

  Faruz blinked away unexpected tears and tucked the clasp into his pack. Without a word, he led his ragged group to the top of the hill, where they set up camp. Looking back at the dark, threatening swamp while the wind whipped around him, Faruz wished they had spent one more night sheltered among its trees. When the regret began to build in his mind, he banished it by moving closer to the small fire. Snow swirled in the air above him, specks of white against the purple twilight sky.

  Between scrambling to erect their shelter and gathering wood for the fire, they didn’t have time to set snares before darkness fell, so they contented themselves with some of the fish they had dried by the waterfall. A peaceful silence descended over the hills as the snow coated the ground.

  Looking out over the fresh white blanket, Faruz wondered how long it would take to get home. He shouldn't have left Zifa so soon after their marriage, but he hadn't seen any other option. He had to remain in command; to do that, he had to prove he was strong enough to lead.

  He swallowed the bitter thoughts with a swig of water and settled into his blankets. He had the second watch, so he needed to get some sleep before Dalan woke him.

  A shaft of moonlight illuminated the camp through a break in the clouds. It glared in Faruz’s eyes, waking him from his shallow slumber. Scraping noises echoed off the hills, sounding close. Faruz rolled over, pulling the blanket close around his face. How long had he been asleep? Bringing the blanket with him, he stood and went to find Dalan. It didn’t take him long to locate his friend, sliding in the snow and dragging a large branch up the rise from the direction of the swamp.

  Without hesitation, Faruz dashed down the slippery ground and grabbed the other side of the branch. Together, they hauled the bough to the campsite and broke all the smaller limbs off. They used a saw Faruz had brought along to cut the thickest part into manageable pieces. This would be enough wood to keep them warm all night, and likely most of the next day.

  When they had finished, Faruz dropped onto a freshly-hewn log, panting. His leg throbbed from the exertion, but he ignored the pain.

  “How did you find this?”

  “I tripped on it when I went to patrol a bit. It was heavier than I expected.”

  Faruz laughed. “I can see that. I’ve got the watch. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  “That sounds good to me.” Dalan stood, stretched, and picked his way across the camp to the small shelter. He stopped just inside the tent and turned back to his friend.

  “Faruz?”

  “Yes?” He looked up at Dalan, hunched just inside the tent.

  “You’ve been a great resource on this trip. I know you’ve doubted yourself, but your injury hasn’t held you back at all that I can see. I would have turned back before we ever got here if it weren’t for your determination.”

  A prickly heat crept over Faruz’s face, and he dropped his gaze to the fire. He fought the urge to brush off the compliment. After all, a better leader would have returned with all his men.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled. “That means a lot.”

  Dalan nodded and crawled into his bedroll, and silence crept over the camp.

  In the stillness of the snowy night, Faruz stared into the small fire and considered what Dalan had said. Could it be true? Had he done a reasonable job as the leader of this team? No. he should have done something–anything–to keep Amiran alive. But what? What could he have done differently? He ruminated on those questions until the fire waned. Shivering, he stood and tossed another log onto the embers.

  A gust of wind blew some of the embers back toward him, and Faruz jumped away, slapping at the red-hot ashes on his clothes.

  On the wind, Faruz heard a whisper, like someone called him over a long distance. He remembered Aibek's struggle to listen to the forest and tried to mimic what his friend had described. Sitting still, he listened with every fiber of his being, stretching his senses over the vast hills and into the dark swamp below.

  “Faruz.”

  He sat up straight at the sound of his name on the wind but worked to maintain his concentration. It sounded like the Saethem's voice, and he waited to hear what she had to say.

  “Troubled times lay ahead. Do not let the fruit out of your sight, and do not show it to anyone, even those you trust.”

  “What do you mean, troubled times? I thought times were already troubled.” He spoke as loudly as he dared, trying not to wake the other travelers.

  “Keep the fruit a secret. Tell no one. Show no one.”

  The wind died, and Faruz felt the bereft loneliness of the barren hills. He stared out over the landscape, uncertain what the tree's cryptic message could mean, but sure she intended to help. He would do his best to heed her warnings. In the black silence, he rearranged his pack, placing the fruit near the bottom so he wouldn't have to remove it to get at anything.

  He settled back down onto his log and waited for his watch to end.

  * * *

  The barest hint of light betrayed the advent of dawn, and Faruz squinted out into the white wilderness. A heavy blanket of snow had fallen during the night, and more fell in impermeable sheets. The wind had died, and now the blinding snow fell straight down, enveloping the travelers in a silent white bubble of warmth. Faruz scooted closer to the fire, thankful for the wood Dalan had found the night before.

  Wayra shuffled over to Faruz, worry painted across his broad features.

  “What’ll we do? We can’t travel in this. I can’t even see where the road is.”

  With a groan, Faruz tossed aside his blankets and stumbled to his feet. Stiffness had locked his knee during the night, and he wobbled, working to gain his balance. He walked a few steps past the fire and shook his head. Wayra was right. The road was covered in snow and blended into the countryside. He bent over and grabbed a handful of snow, crunching it in his fist and studying its weight. When he released his hand, it crumbled and fell to the ground. He kicked at the accumulated mass on the ground, triggering a whirlwind of white where his foot had been, and nodded in satisfaction.

  “It’s a light, soft sort of snow. Easy enough to kick aside to find the gravel road. We’ll have to move slow, and we should probably find a way to bring some of that wood with us, but we’re not stuck here.”

  Wayra joined him at the crest of the hill, staring down at the freshly bared gravel.

  “You don’t think that’ll be too much work? We’ll tire in a hurry if we’re kicking through this stuff all day.”

  "Hmm, you're right." Faruz stared out into the growing morning and kicked at the snow once more. It flew away from his boot in a cloud, leaving a new patch of ground bared before him. "We can take turns at the front. That would keep any one of us from getting too tired. It's not so deep that it'll slow us down much, see?"

  “I guess.” Wayra shouldered his pack and stepped up beside Faruz. “It’s gonna be a cold day, though.”

  They settled in beside the fire and warmed some dried fish for breakfast. When the others woke, they p
acked up the camp, divided the firewood among their packs, and headed into the white wilderness. The snow had stopped falling by the time they broke camp, and Faruz led the way toward the river city.

  * * *

  As the days passed, the snow packed down and turned to icy slush, slowing their travel to a crawl. They crested yet another hill, and Faruz stopped, staring down at the treacherous slope. The ghost of a memory toyed with the edges of his mind, and he dropped his pack. There had to be an easier way to do this.

  He spread his cloak on the ground, sat on it, and wiggled forward until gravity took hold and pulled him down the icy incline. He let out an exultant yell as the wind whipped his hair and the cold air robbed him of breath. The others wasted no time in coming after him, sliding down the hill on their cloaks and shouting all the way to the bottom.

  Dalan shouted, “That’s the way to do it! I’m going first the next time.” He took off at a run.

  “Hey!” Hekma ran after him, followed by Wayra and Faruz.

  They traversed the next seven hills, running up and sliding down, and only stopped when the light faded to evening. Breathless and laughing, they set up camp, built a fire, and caught a few fish in a nearby stream. They had traveled south for six days. If Faruz remembered correctly, they should reach Kainga within the next day.

  Excitement bubbled in his gut at the thought of the river city; a hot bath and a warm bed would be most welcome after sleeping outside for so long. Perhaps, they would even make it to Kainga early in the day and would be able to continue to Nivaka. Zifa would be glad to see him. Was she worried? Probably. The journey had lasted much longer than expected.

  “What’s wrong?” Hekma dropped onto the log beside him. “You look like someone just stole your dessert.”

  “It’s nothing.” Faruz kept his eyes on the fire. “I was just thinking of Zifa. I hope she’s all right. This journey has dragged on for me; how much worse is it for her–wondering what’s taking us so long.” He picked up a pebble and tossed it. “She didn’t want me to go at all. She was afraid my injuries would hold me back and keep me from defending myself. I hope she isn’t thinking the worst–that she was right and we’re not coming back.”

  “What bothers you more, the thought of her sadness and fear, or that she thinks you can’t do it?”

  Faruz’s head jerked up, and he glared into the dwarf’s eyes. The sad expression caught him off guard, killing his defensive response before it escaped his lips. He shook his head and dropped his gaze. “I don’t know. I can’t stand the thought of her scared and alone, but that look in her eyes–the pity–I…” He trailed off as he searched for the words to express his anguish.

  Hekma nodded. "I know the feeling. I…My injuries weren't from battle, but I broke both my legs as a youth. It was years before I could walk without a limp. I lost my lady to a stronger dwarf because of it." He barked out a harsh laugh. "She looked at me like I was ruined forever, pity in her eyes when she told me she wanted to marry a warrior."

  The silence stretched as the conversation died. It was too painful a topic for Faruz to pursue, and Hekma kept his thoughts to himself.

  24

  Home

  Strolling through the village two days after his return, Aibek stared at the crumbling supports and dying trees surrounding him. How had things gotten this bad so quickly? He had journeyed for less than a fortnight, but the deterioration took his breath away and knotted his stomach. Remembering the Bokinna’s weakened state, Aibek fought a wave of nausea. Faruz needed to get back with the fruit soon, or he might be too late.

  Aibek shook his head and turned back toward the Square. He planned to meet with Valasa again to discuss his experiences in the forest and to let the healer examine his leg and change the bandages. With the Gadonu's preoccupation with the forest's illness, they had kept their meetings brief over the past days. This meeting would be no different. He found himself trying not to breathe the musty air as he crutched along the boardwalk. The fresh air near the river had nearly erased this odor from his memory. Soon, they would cure the forest, and the stench would disappear forever. At least, he hoped so.

  He had made it halfway to Valasa’s home when Ahren hurried up to him, her face flushed and her hair sweat-slicked as if she had been running.

  “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere. Idril and Turan have come to see you. They’re waiting with my father in your study. I’m sorry–we didn’t know where else to put them. Hurry!”

  Aibek held his empty hand up, leaning on the crutch. “All right, I’m coming.” He tugged his sleeve out of her grasp. “But what’s the rush? I’ve never had to run to meet with them before.”

  “They arrived soon after the noon meal. I’ve been searching for you since then.”

  The sun hung halfway through its descent. Luncheon had been several hours earlier. He frowned but picked up his pace.

  They reached the mayoral home on the Square, and Aibek struggled to keep his breathing even. He paused to catch his breath outside the door and limped into his study without a knock. Valasa and Kasanto’s rulers leapt to their feet at his entrance.

  “We had started to think you weren’t coming.” The fur-draped queen raked a disgusted gaze over Aibek. He got the impression she would have preferred to see a cockroach.

  Aibek shrugged and laughed. “That seems to be a common problem of late. To what do I owe this unexpected delight?” He bowed over her hand, turned to the elvin king, and bowed deeply once more.

  A sound between a laugh and a cough escaped Valasa, and Aibek raised his eyes. The Gadonu’s face was an unhealthy shade of scarlet. What had been happening here before Aibek’s arrival?

  With a wave at the empty chairs, Aibek crutched across the room with all the regal bearing he could muster and settled into the chair behind his desk. He seldom sat there, because it put him above his visitors, but that arrangement suited him for this meeting. The rulers never attempted to make him comfortable when he visited them in Kasanto.

  “Well, now that I’m here, what can I do for you?” He glanced at the faces in front of him and paused. Where was Ahren? Why hadn’t she followed him in? The door sat slightly ajar, but he couldn’t see anything in the dim hallway.

  Turan cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He met Idril’s eyes, nodded, and turned back to Aibek.

  “We owe you–and all your citizens–an apology. Valasa urged us to give you time to return, but once you entered the forest’s center, Idril and I couldn’t see you anymore. It was as if you had just disappeared–or died. Since we knew you had been attacked by that dreadful emrialk, we naturally assumed the worst.”

  The king dropped his gaze to the floor and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

  “We should not have given the authorization to attack your hunting parties. Aylen has assured us that you kept his safety in mind at all times. He said you held off the emrialk alone while he and the others escaped up the tree, and even stopped him from striking out on his own after a disagreement. I could not have asked for anything more. Please accept our humblest apologies for all the trouble we caused with our haste. What can we do to make it up to you?”

  This looked like a perfect opportunity, but Aibek hesitated. Shouldn't he consult the council before bargaining with the village's enemies? He glanced to Valasa for guidance, but the religious leader watched their guests with a distrustful expression. He was on his own.

  Aibek’s eyes widened as realization struck. Something had been off through the entire meeting, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on it. At that moment, he saw it with crystal clarity: the stiff formality that had marked all his previous dealings with the rulers had evaporated. They sat, penitent and deflated, in his study. Another man might have viewed their misery with glee, but Aibek felt nothing but sympathy in the face of their discomfort.

  “Well,” he paused and took a deep breath. “We will certainly accept your apology, of course with the assurance that it won’t happen ag
ain. As far as recompense, I haven’t had a chance to consider the matter. Did you have something in mind?”

  The queen jerked her head up, her brown eyes wide. She opened her mouth but snapped it shut again.

  Aibek fought a smile. She wasn’t as contrite as she wanted him to believe.

  Idril spoke slowly as if considering each word before it escaped.

  “Do you not have a request of us? I thought you would ask us to participate in your next battle against that vile army. Aylen told us what happened with the ancient one, and that the army poisoned the forest. We know they will return.”

  Bracing his forearms against his desk, Aibek leaned forward and examined the queen. He stared until Idril looked away and leaned back.

  "I considered it, but I have not had the opportunity to speak to my council. We make our battle plans with the input of all our leaders, especially our army captain–who happens to be traveling in search of the poison's cure. Let's wait and consider the matter further when he returns, and we are more certain we will have a forest to protect."

  The king nodded and stood. He placed a hand under Idril’s elbow and helped her to her feet.

  “That is a wise decision. We will await your word on the matter. Please assure your hunters that my people will not bother them in the forest, provided they are back within your village before sunset.”

  The diminutive monarch squared his shoulders and marched from the room without another word, and Idril rushed out behind him.

  After the king and queen had left, Aibek gestured for Valasa to sit. With a small laugh, he dropped into the chair beside his friend and advisor.

  “What a mess. What happened before I got here? You didn’t look happy when I came in.”

  Valasa laughed and waved a hand. “It was nothing. They claimed you were avoiding them–but I wouldn’t blame you if you were. Where were you, anyway? It took Ahren all afternoon to find you.”