by TJ Muir
“I can’t help but think that if I’d been a better mother, then Kirrin wouldn’t be the man he is now.”
A soft golden light splashed across the floor as Triappa peeked out from behind the ridge. Breshan wouldn’t be far behind. Jedda watched a wispy cloud twist and rise as it became a horse, stretching its neck to run. Then it merged with another cloud and became a frog Jedda watched the frog, his eyes getting heavy as he drifted off to sleep.
The door slammed downstairs, right below where he was sleeping. He jolted awake, shaking his head, startled. He didn’t stop to think, as he leapt up and ran downstairs before he realized he was naked.
He came down the stairs as Cham was hauling Kirrin in through the door.
Kirrin hung onto Cham, arm around his shoulders and leaning heavily on him. Tattia sat up as they came into the common area, where the fireplace cast a warm glowing light.
Cham helped Kirrin to the couch, laying him down. Kirrin groaned as he collapsed. Jedda’s jaw dropped, shocked, as Tattia’s book hit the floor with a thump. Kirrin was covered in blood.
Chapter Six
“Kirrin!” Tattia cried, rushing to his side, her eyes bright with terror. She called over her shoulder, “Hot water, boiled. Cloths.”
Jedda stood there, frozen. Kirrin was sprawled on the couch, head rolled back against a cushion. He tried to push her hand away, as though he were fighting off an enemy.
“Hush. You’re home now,” she said in her lilting accent. It seemed stronger now than it had in the whole time they had been together. At the sound, Kirrin's hand stopped thrashing at her and his body relaxed.
Cham stood to the side, peeling off his dirty, blood splattered clothes.
Tattia looked over her shoulder and saw Jedda still standing there. “Go. Get the things I asked for.” The sharp edge to her voice snapped Jedda out of his trance and he hurried into the kitchen.
Jedda came back a few moments later, carrying a bowl of warm water and cloths. “The kettle was still warm.” He set the items down beside Tattia. “I put a pot of water on to boil, also.”
She nodded as she examined her son, feeling gently down each arm, and watching Kirrin for reactions that would tell her the location and extent of his injuries. That done, she began to undo his shirt and peel it back.
Cham cleared his throat. “The blood is not his. At least not most of it.”
Tattia looked to Cham, then back to Kirrin, scanning his lower torso and legs. Jedda came closer, afraid for Kirrin, watching over her shoulder.
There were a couple of gashes along his ribs, and one on his bicep, as well as a tear in his pants that looked to have fresh blood.
“I’m okay, mum. It’s okay,” Kirrin said, half conscious.
“Mostly minor cuts,” she said, “and a stab wound in the leg, doesn’t look deep. Cracked rib, likely, and a host of bruising.”
Jedda listened, surprised at how calm, and collected she was. Then it dawned on him. This was not the first time she had cleaned Kirrin up. He looked back and forth between the two of them and wondered what had gone so terribly wrong.
Tattia looked again to Cham. “What have you got among your salves and ointments? Something to keep the wound from going bad?”
Cham looked up, nodded. “They are among my things. I’ll go get them. The salve can be applied to the injuries, which will ease some distress.” Cham went to get his pack.
Tattia glanced impatiently at Jedda.
“Right. Hot water. I’ll go check,” he said and scurried from the room.
When Jedda came back, Tattia was busy cutting Kirrin out of his clothes with a knife. Then she began cleaning and checking each wound. Cham returned, putting the salve and some other supplies on the floor where Tattia could reach them. Most of the gashes just needed cleaning and bandaging. One did require stitches, which Tattia did with a deft hand. After that, Kirrin wavered in and out of consciousness, or sleep. Jedda didn’t know which.
Finally, Tattia turned to Cham. “Now let’s see about you.”
He raised a hand, warding her off. “Mostly minor. A shower and hot water will suffice.”
She paused, looking closely at Cham, but he flinched, and looked away.
Her lips pursed, but she didn’t press the issue. “So, tell me. What happened?”
“Trouble has found us.”
Tattia scoffed at Cham’s glib response.
He shrugged. “Truth? Kirrin lost the path and stumbled out onto the road. He was ambushed by someone looking for us.”
Jedda wondered why Cham was so reluctant to discuss what had happened out there. “Are we in danger?”
“No,” was all Cham said as he got up and gathered his things. “I need to check the horse. It was dark, and I want to be sure he is okay.”
“I can tend the horse,” Jedda offered, wanting to be helpful in the only way he knew.
Cham nodded. He looked up the stairs toward his bed and sighed, grabbing a blanket from the back of a chair. He headed out back to the shower. Jedda went out behind him, branching off toward the stable.
Trilly seemed okay, but had dried sweat on his neck and shoulders. Jedda took a cloth and brush and rubbed the horse down, then fed him some grain.
Once the horse was tended to, Jedda headed back toward the lodge. He could hear the shower running still, so veered in that direction to check on Cham, only to find him standing fully clothed under the water, hands braced against the wall.
“Are you okay?” Jedda asked. “Do you need anything?”
Cham just shook his head.
Jedda stretched his senses, tuning into Cham’s colors. They were swirling, flaring. Whatever had happened, Cham was in more distress than he let on. Jedda wished he knew how to do what Cham did, to ease the emotional pain his friend was feeling.
He stood there for a moment, wavering with indecision. Then he stepped halfway into the shower and helped Cham out of his clothes. His friend's muscles were strung tight, and tiny tremors shook him occasionally. Jedda took the bar of soap from the ledge and began gently washing the dirt and blood from Cham’s body. He massaged and rubbed Cham’s shoulders until he felt the shaking subside. Then he washed Cham’s hair, turning him slightly so that the water rinsed off the dirt and soap, before turning off the water. Then he reached for the blanket, wrapped Cham up like a child, and guided him into the house and toward the stairs with one hand on each shoulder, half-holding and half-steering.
He glanced at Tattia, who was sitting beside Kirrin, wiping his face with a cloth. She looked up at the two of them and must have sensed Cham’s distress.
She nodded to Jedda, tilting her head towards the stairs. “It’s okay. I’ve got this. I’ll need to keep him awake for a while, because of the head injury,” she said. “I’ve done this before. There isn’t anything you can do right now. Go take care of your friend.”
Jedda could hear the concern in her voice, and a gentleness that hadn’t been there before. How ironic, that Tattia was so angry with Kirrin for his violent past, and yet it was that very violence that seemed to mend some of the anger between them. Jedda didn’t know if it would last, but it was better than the yelling or icy chill had been. He envied Kirrin for having a parent who tended him so lovingly.
Then she added. “Thank you, Cham, for going out to find him, and bringing him home.”
Cham tensed up under Jedda's hands when he heard his name. “I’d better get him up to bed,” Jedda said, moving up the stairs. “Good night.”
Jedda guided Cham toward his bed, and reached out to pull down the covers without letting go of Cham with his other hand. He sat Cham down on the bed, making sure he wouldn’t slip or fall over. Then he grabbed a flask of brandy from his gear, handing it to Cham. “Here, take a swallow. It should help." Jedda hoped it would help, hoped it was the right thing to do.
Cham reached for the flask, knocked Jedda’s hand.
“Here,” Jedda said, holding the flask with one hand and steadying Cham’s grip with the ot
her, guiding it to Cham’s mouth and holding it steady while he drank.
One swallow. A second. Then Cham coughed and pushed the flask away. Jedda took a swallow as well, and then put it aside.
“Here,” Jedda said, “Let’s get these boots off you.” As he started to unlace the soggy laces and pull them off, Jedda thought about bringing the boots down to dry by the fireplace, but didn’t want to leave Cham. He placed them against the chimney instead, and hoped they would dry overnight.
Then he peeled off Cham's pants, and felt his friend start to shiver. “Under the covers, quick,” Jedda said, taking the blanket Cham had been holding onto. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
Cham curled up on his side, and Jedda pulled the covers over him. Then he took Cham’s pants and hung them over the back of a chair, putting the chair close to the chimney beside the boots.
Cham sat up halfway, drawing back the covers. “I need to--” he mumbled, words garbled.
“Shhhh,” Jedda said. “It’s okay. Just lie back down.” He came over to the far side of the bed and laid down next to Cham, cradling him with his own body. He pulled the damp blanket over himself and wrapped an arm over Cham, hugging him close so he would feel safe.
He lay there, watching the light out the window. It was Breshan now, casting blue shadows across the floor. He looked for shapes in the clouds, listening to Cham’s breathing as it became steadier and slowed. Cham’s body began to relax under the covers.
Jedda woke up to the afternoon sun streaming through his window. The red leaves mellowed the light, and he was tempted to just lie there, but then he remembered Kirrin and Tattia. He got up quietly, careful not to wake Cham, who seemed sound asleep. He grabbed a change of clothes and tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs.
Tattia was curled up in a chair with a blanket on her lap. She looked up when Jedda walked into the room. “He seems better,” she said. “His breathing is a little stiff, probably cracked ribs, but he had tea a little while ago, and is sleeping now.” Her usual bitterness was gone from her voice, replaced by a sense of heaviness.
“Are you okay?” Jedda asked.
She nodded. “I slept a little bit on and off.”
“Do you need anything?”
She shook her head. “No, that’s okay.”
But Jedda knew better. The bruising under her eyes and the drawn look on her face reminded him of when Trey had his breakdown. He went into the kitchen and brought out a light snack and a cup of hot tea, glad he had thought to refill it the night before.
“Here, It’s just mint and clover, with honey,” he said, handing the warm cup to her. “And here are some hazelnuts and dried cranberries.” He put the small bowl on the table where she could reach it.
“Thank you,” she said.
Jedda blushed, not sure what to say or do. “I think I’ll duck out and take a shower. Unless you need me to do anything? Hot water? Breakfast, or lunch?”
She just shook her head, attention mostly focused on Kirrin. So Jedda grabbed a towel from one of the cubbies and headed outside.
When he got back, Kirrin was sitting up, propped up on pillows. Jedda tried to read the expression on his face, but it was closed. Tattia was still on the adjacent couch, curled up under a blanket, asleep now. A floorboard creaked under Jedda’s foot, and she stirred, looking up.
“I’ll get lunch,” Jedda said. “I’ll make something for everyone.”
“No,” Kirrin said.
Jedda was taken aback by the irritation in Kirrin's voice. Was he angry at him for some reason?
Tattia looked back and forth between the two of them. Kirrin shook his head minutely, as though trying to warn her.
“I’ll make something,” she offered.
Jedda looked back at Kirrin, who seemed relieved. So that was it. “Is my cooking that bad?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry.”
Kirrin woke from a brief nap with some color back in his cheeks.
“Feeling better?” Jedda asked, coming over to him.
Kirrin nodded.
“You look better,” Jedda lied.
Then Tattia came back and sat on the edge of the couch by Kirrin’s legs. “What happened?”
From the tone of her voice, this was not the first time she had asked that question under these circumstances.
Kirrin shook his head. “I don't know, exactly. I left here and headed up toward the ridge to get a look at how close we might be to the river. I swear I heeded Cham’s advice and kept the camp in site the entire time. I never crossed the ridge, but somehow I got turned around, or something, coming back. I was sure I was headed the right way, but I came out on the road. I couldn't find the trail, I kept getting turned around.
“Then everything went sideways. All of a sudden I was on level ground. I stumbled, I think. It felt like I just got dropped. And then there I was, back on the road, right on top of two men. One of them grabbed me. The other must have knocked me out. I came to tied up in a camp just off the road.”
“Hak’kar’s men?”
“Yes. I knew them.”
“What happened? How did you get away? And how did you get those injuries?”
Kirrin glanced down at himself. “Most of those are bruises. This particular pair lack finesse. They did not take kindly to one of their own deserting their lord. They had-- questions.”
Jedda remembered Yaran: an apparent suicide. So he had some idea of the kind of treatment Kirrin might have gotten. Hak’kar was not a forgiving man, and his men tended to be ruthless in enacting his vengeance.
“Then Cham found me. Snuck in and cut my ropes.”
Hearing Cham’s name reminded Jedda that his friend was still sleeping upstairs. He glanced up, and was surprised to see Cham perched at the top of the stairs, listening.
“Once I had my hands free, it was not difficult to subdue my captors,” Kirrin continued. “I was fortunate that these were not Hak'kar's most skilled men. But I was able to discover a few things, myself.” Kirrin said, coughing as he spoke. Tattia poured him a cup of tea; Jedda could smell the herbs and honey in it. He looked back up the stairs, but Cham had left.
Kirrin went on. “Hak’kar has always been obsessed with prophecies. Right now he is convinced that Jedda holds some key to his ability to fulfill an ancient prophecy.”
That surprised Jedda. It explained Hak’kar’s interest in a dirty beggar, all those years ago. But he had no idea what prophecies Kirrin was talking about. “What does he think is going to happen?”
Kirrin shrugged. “I’m not even sure he knows. But he is convinced that in the end, he will be the one who triumphs. He has been collecting bits and pieces from all over. He’s an expert at finding how anything important must refer to him. If it doesn’t, he calls it fake.”
“Was that why he took me off the streets?” Jedda asked.
“No. That was simply because he recognized your Faenyr blood, and was gambling that one day your magic would waken, and he would have a very powerful tool to wield against the other So’har. Even without any magic, you proved a very valuable asset. I’m not sure when he decided you might be connected. Your betrayal has angered him more than mine. He's determined to seek revenge. Especially now that he thinks you are tangled up in one of his superstitions. There is no telling how he will act.”
Not exactly what Jedda wanted to hear. “What about the men? What happened to them?”
“I took care of them.” From the flat tone of his voice, it was that was all Kirrin was going to say about the subject. He sipped his tea and rested his head back against the cushion.
Jedda needed to move. He thought of his old hidden den beneath Tatak Rhe where he had lived for years. He wanted to be in that kind of a safe place again. But running wasn’t an option, especially after hearing Kirrin’s story about the woods. He felt trapped and lost at the same time.
With no other means to work off the excess energy, Jedda went around back to the woodpile and started splitting logs. Over
and over he placed a log upright, hefted the ax over his head, and brought it crashing down into the wood, finding a rhythm in the heft, swing, regrip. And as he worked, he heard Kirrin’s words over and over,. ‘Hak’kar’s men,’ ‘they had questions,’ ‘deserting their lord,’ And Jedda saw the cuts and bruises on Kirrin as the axe hefted and chopped. How had the land done that? Had the forest thrown Kirrin right into his enemies?
Jedda worked himself to exhaustion, splitting wood until he could no longer lift the axe above his head, all the while thinking of how Kirrin and Cham, could have gotten killed out there.
He sank the axe into the stump and bent over, trying to take deep breaths as used his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his face. The sound of footsteps caught his attention as Cham came around the corner.
“What happened out there?" Jedda asked. "You must have seen.”
Cham shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself, and rubbing them as though he were cold. He walked over and sat down on a stump. “It was just like he said.”
Jedda didn’t need to read Cham’s colors to know his friend needed to talk about what he had seen. Jedda waited, trying to be patient the way he knew Cham would be.
“I found him, found them,” Cham corrected himself, “not far from the road. I could hear them, even before I saw their fire. They were screaming at Kirrin. They wanted to know where you were. ‘Where is Jay? Where is he hiding? Who is helping you?’ The same questions over and over. When Kirrin didn’t answer, or didn’t tell them what they wanted, they hurt him, hit him. I think one of them burned him.
"The men were making enough noise that it wasn’t hard to get close enough to see. They were so intent on what they were doing they weren’t paying any attention to what was going around them.” Cham shifted, as though he were trying to get comfortable. “When I got close, I could see Kirrin strung up on a rope, hands tied together. One of the men was holding the rope, pulling it up, yanking on it if Kirrin didn’t answer their questions.
“The other guy had a knife and took pleasure in making small cuts, repeatedly, on Kirrin. But he took greater pleasure pounding Kirrin with his fists. It was hard to watch. I moved so that I would be in Kirrin’s line of sight. I saw his head come up, focus for just a second. So I knew he saw me. I waited.
