Sharani series Box Set

by Kevin L. Nielsen

  “You live here?”

  The man kept right on walking. A mixture of curiosity and pragmatism drove Gavin after the man.

  “You live here?” Gavin asked, catching up.

  Tadeo grunted. “Is this not what I just said?”

  “I mean, why do you live here?”

  “This thing is no secret. I am not of the same people as the former slaves from the plantations. They do not like me. For this thing, I live apart.”

  Gavin frowned. The light from the lantern ahead of them flickered, the rays now strong enough to touch Tadeo’s scarred, angular face and dance across his beard.

  “Wait,” Gavin said. “If you’re here, who lit the lamp?”

  Tadeo didn’t answer. Gavin looked away from the man toward where the light originated, noticing the outline of a small hut nestled up against a massive boulder and the silhouettes of several smaller boulders in a half circle around it. The lamp lay in the middle of the cluster of rocks and buildings, like a small, contained fire. The mysterious figure that had originally been outlined in the light was nowhere to be seen.

  As they entered the circle of boulders, Gavin noticed signs of a permanent residence. The remnants of a fire lay in a smaller circle of stones next to where the lamp sat on the ground. A pile of firewood lay stacked up against the side of the small hut and the ground around them was well trod, pounded flat and firm by constant use.

  “Sit,” Tadeo said, pointing with one thick finger to a spot near the lamp. “There is much to speak about.”

  Gavin sat, curiously watching as Tadeo strode to the wood pile, selected an array of logs, and proceeded to make a fire, using the lamp to light it. The wood lit, he doused the lamp.

  “Among my people,” Tadeo said, firelight flickering off his deep-set, slightly too-large eyes, “to share a fire with someone is great honor. This thing is a showing of trust. Is making you family.”

  Gavin ran a hand over his beard, hiding a frown of confusion. “Thank you?” Gavin said.

  Tadeo didn’t shift his steady, appraising eyes. Hard eyes, like Khari’s had been. Like his grandmother’s.

  “We are not with my family. This thing is not the same. Still, I am glad you came. I offer you a piece of my fire so that we may talk and learn more of one another.”

  Gavin sensed Tadeo was testing him somehow, but didn’t know either the question or the appropriate answer, so he simply nodded. Tadeo gave no sign that Gavin’s response was either appropriate or offensive.

  “Brisson has made you leader of patrols outside this valley. You will tell me why he did this thing.” It was not a question.

  “He didn’t give me permission,” Gavin said. “I informed him that my people and I would be patrolling. As I recall you once saying, my people are warriors. These former slaves are not.” Gavin grimaced. “Do they even have a name they call themselves?”

  Tadeo grunted. “They do not have a name. This thing is reason why they are not warriors, I think. They do not know how to act as one people. They follow a man who has not ever held a sword, nor felt the thrill of protecting his own home. This people follows a man who is afraid. Fear cannot create strength or unity.”

  Gavin crossed his legs beneath himself and arched his back, glancing away from the fire and allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness again. At least, as much as they could so close to the fire’s light. Stars glinted in the inky blackness above him.

  “I wouldn’t call him afraid,” Gavin said carefully, still looking up in to the night sky. “He’s a man who has no idea what he’s doing and so tries to do it all. I understand a bit of that burden.”

  “But you learned that this thing is not right. Brisson does not. You are a better leader of your people. Brisson knows this thing. He fears what his people will see. For this reason, he has given you cause to be away from their sight.”

  Gavin straightened and looked over at Tadeo. “Why would he have gone through all the trouble of avoiding me if that were true? If he’d wanted me out of the way, why wouldn’t he have just given in early on and let me organize the patrols like I wanted to? It was obvious what I wanted from the start.”

  Tadeo retrieved another log for the fire and placed it in the flames where it would catch before answering. Sparks rose into the air in a cascade of red and yellow.

  “He cannot appear to be weak,” Tadeo said. “Or agree that you are a good leader. To do this thing as you suggest would have been to show his people that you were better than he, that he needed you. Now, after waiting, this thing will look as if you are helping him.”

  “And why would that matter?”

  “You are smart man. You know the answer to this thing. You are the Rahuli, the Survivors, the winners of the War of Deliverance. You are legends.”

  Gavin frowned. He’d thought only Benji and the other children thought that way about him and his people. None of the others had acted like Gavin was anyone important, not that he recalled anyway. Then Gavin remembered his run-in with the guards the night after Samsin’s trial. Perhaps Tadeo had a point. With some of it, anyway. Gavin didn’t know if he entirely believed the level of forethought and craftiness Tadeo was implying Brisson had. The man was smart, yes, but his actions were those of a tired, frustrated man overworked and under too much responsibility. Wasn’t he? Gavin shook his head and looked over at Tadeo, who was still standing on the other side of the fire. Gavin suddenly felt very foolish sitting while the other man stood.

  “Why do you live out here?” Gavin asked. It was more of an attempt to change the topic of conversation than anything else. Gavin glanced back the way he had come, not sure if he should find a way to leave or not. He needed to speak with him about the coming patrols still, but wasn’t sure he wanted to keep talking to the man. The intensity of Tadeo’s gaze made him extremely uncomfortable.

  Tadeo glanced around the small space, then back at Gavin. “I am not important, like the Rahuli. I was once a warrior for the Seven Sisters. They fear me, even as they use me. Brisson knows I am a warrior and for this he makes me lead. This thing is alright.”

  “You were a Bleeder?” Gavin asked, surprise evident in his voice.

  “This thing is true.”

  “How did you get here?”

  Tadeo shook his head, for the first time showing some measure of emotion as he frowned. “I will not be telling you my story. This thing is personal and we are not friends. We are warriors together but, among my people, that is not the same thing.”

  “Your people? You’re not an Orinai then?” Gavin asked. The answer was obvious. With his too-big eyes, angular features, and lithe, wiry build, the man looked nothing like either Samsin or Nikanor, but also bore little resemblance to Brisson’s people and the former slaves.

  “My people, the Sensari, are no more,” Tadeo said, eyes shifting skyward. “They have become a part of the Path. They will guide me home one day.”

  Gavin ran a hand across his beard again. How many different races were there? Orinai, Rahuli, nameless slave races, and now Tadeo’s people. Gavin wondered how much more was out there that he didn’t even know to ask about, let alone be familiar with.

  “Well,” Gavin said, getting to his feet and brushing off his cloak where some dirt and leaves had stuck to it. “It was nice talking to you, but—”

  Tadeo held up a hand and Gavin stopped halfway through the act of standing and finishing his sentence.

  “No,” Tadeo said, voice firm. “You must stay and eat. Then we will speak on why I have told you these things tonight.”

  And with that, Gavin found himself sitting once more.

  Tadeo produced some hard cheese and a heavy brown bread from inside one of the smaller buildings next to his hut and then disappeared around the back side of his home. Gavin eyed the cheese and bread, stomach rumbling, and wondered if he should start eating it while Tadeo was away. He’d just made up his mind and was reaching for cheese when Tadeo came back holding a thick cut of cured meat on a long skewer. Gavin quickly
turned his forward lean toward the cheese into a stretch and then returned to his original position, wondering if he should offer to help or if he’d simply be in the way if he tried.

  Tadeo placed the meat over the flames by hammering a pair of poles with forks at the end of them deep into the ground on either side of the fire and then resting the skewer across it, making a spit. The meat smelled delicious, though it was darker in color than anything Gavin had seen before.

  “That smells good,” Gavin said.

  “Is rude to speak while cooking,” Tadeo said. “Is time for thinking, not wasting.”

  Gavin didn’t think talking was wasting time, but didn’t press the issue. He considered leaving and going out in search of Darryn on his own, but the smell of the meat as the flames licked it and the look of the cheese convinced him to stay. His curiosity may have also had a part in his decision, though Gavin wouldn’t have admitted it.

  Tadeo pulled out a knife long enough to double as a small sword and sliced off a wedge of the hard cheese, then tore the bread in two. He placed the cheese and half the loaf on a simple wooden board before Gavin. Gavin wasn’t sure if he was supposed to start eating so he left the tray alone. He was glad he had when Tadeo knelt before his platter a moment later and bowed to the food, pressing his forehead to the edge of the wooden tray. Tadeo held that pose for the space of three heartbeats, then rose and nodded in Gavin’s direction.

  “You may eat.”

  Gavin hesitated, not sure how to ask the obvious question that had formed on his lips. Tadeo didn’t have any such reservations. He seized the remainder of the bread and cheese and shoved large amounts of both in to his mouth.

  “During meal you may speak,” Tadeo said through a mouthful of food. “This thing is allowed.”

  Gavin opened his mouth and then shut it again, then shrugged and picked up the cheese. It was as hard as it looked, though it didn’t look or smell anything like any of the hard cheeses. He pulled off a small piece and popped it in his mouth. Flavors exploded in his mouth, an array of unfamiliar spices fighting against one another across his tongue.

  “This is good,” Gavin said after swallowing.

  “You are strange man,” Tadeo said, eying him over the fire. “One moment you appear strong and mature. Then this thing is gone in the next moment.”

  Gavin smiled. “Part of my charm, I guess. You’re not at all as quiet as you appear, either.”

  “Is not proper to speak much in places with many people. When is just you and one other, perhaps two, talking is a good. Much learning can be done.”

  Gavin shrugged. Even though he didn’t know anything about the man, he found he liked Tadeo. He knew part of it was his own nature to be trusting in general, a trait that had gotten him into more trouble that he could remember in his life, but there was also something genuine and earnest about the man that Gavin found endearing, which was odd, considering his initial impression of the man.

  “Earlier you said you would tell me why you told me those things,” Gavin said after taking another bite of bread and cheese. “So, why did you tell me?”

  Tadeo turned the spit, breaking the silence that stretched between them with the hiss of meat drippings hitting flame.

  “Why did you come out here tonight?” Tadeo asked. “I have seen you as you walk at night. This thing is common for you.”

  “You’ve been watching me?”

  “This thing is not strange. The whole valley has been watching you. As I said, you are legend given flesh. But why did you come here tonight? This thing is important.”

  Gavin frowned, trying to put together the information Tadeo had already given him with this new question. Nothing came together in his mind.

  “I came in search of Darryn, the man you had earlier in Brisson’s building,” Gavin added when Tadeo gave him a blank look.

  Tadeo nodded. “I thought this thing was true. That one, he will bring you much trouble, I think.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “This man, I caught him where he should not be. Is dangerous for him and for you.”

  “The Rahuli do not answer to Brisson’s laws,” Gavin said, more sharply than he intended. “He was doing nothing wrong.”

  “And would you still say this thing if he were to betray you to the Orinai?”

  Gavin tossed his wooden tray to the side, all the bread and cheese long since eaten.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There is an Orinai army camped four days hard march from here,” Tadeo said. “An army big enough to kill us all. This man, Darryn, was almost captured by their scouts.”

  “An army?” Gavin wrapped one hand around the hilt of his greatsword, eyes involuntarily darting to the shadows around them. “Are you sure? Brisson only said something about patrols and scouts.”

  Tadeo didn’t answer, but instead gave Gavin a look that said the answer should be obvious.

  “If what you say is true about why Brisson avoided me and the rest of it,” Gavin said, realization hitting him with the force of a chill rain. “Then I assume he already knows. You would have told him. He hasn’t told anyone else because he doesn’t want to induce a panic. He knows they’re not warriors and knowing an army is that close would cause chaos.” Gavin knew that part to be true. Just the promise of a future threat of the Orinai had led Kaiden to fight against his own people, had caused a war between siblings.

  “Perhaps you are smarter than you look too, I think,” Tadeo said with a small nod of approval. “This thing is true. Brisson knows.”

  “And what’s he doing about it then?”

  “Nothing, Gavin. He is doing nothing,” another voice said from the darkness, a voice Gavin recognized but didn’t believe.

  Gavin spun as Samsin stepped out of the shadows and into the light.

  Chapter 15: Realization

  “How then did the belief that the soul is eternal and re-emerges as a new body, a new life, if you will, come to be such an integral part of the understanding of our place in the vastness of this world?”

  —From the Discourses on Knowledge, Volume 15, Year 1023

  Gavin leapt to his feet and drew his sword in the same flowing motion. He reached out for his powers, drawing on the energy around him, but nothing came. Gavin grasped at it, but the effect was like trying to pull smoke out of the air with only his fingers.

  “You’re supposed to be dead,” Gavin said. He kept his sword pointed directly at the tall, thin man.

  Samsin took a small, deliberate step forward. The firelight cast his features into sharp, sudden detail. Half his face was covered in partially healed cuts with yellowish bruises across the rest. His nose looked as if it had been broken in multiple places and his once fine hair was cropped so short he looked almost bald. Scabs and the marks of careful stitches stuck up through the hair. One arm was wrapped and covered in thick bandages, held in a sling. A pair of sticks which were serving as splints to keep it in place poked out the end of the bandages. One leg was also wrapped in a swath of bandages and Samsin was leaning heavily on a thick wooden cane. Several fingers looked as if they had been broken.

  “Why don’t you put the sword away and we can talk about this,” Samsin said. His voice came out in a wheeze, punctuated by the sharp intakes of breath that marked a man who had broken rib bones.

  Gavin glanced from Tadeo to Samsin and back again. The former was watching him without expression, though Samsin’s eyes looked pained. No, not so much pained as pleading. There was pain there, and plenty of it, but beyond that, beneath that surface of discomfort and unease sat a desperate need . . . and meek acceptance. It was so contrary to everything Gavin knew of the man that he lowered his sword.

  “Okay, talk.”

  Samsin limped forward and leaned back against the side of a large boulder. Up close, he looked thin and pallid, almost ethereal. It was a miracle he was even standing.

  “You’re right,” Samsin said with a grimace. He turned to look at Gavin. The ligh
t made the mottled bruises on his face look like they were dancing. “I should be dead. Maybe I was—some of it’s still not very clear.”

  Gavin shifted his weight and looked again from Tadeo to Samsin and back again. Tadeo was still watching him, gauging his reactions. Something was going on here that made the hair on the back of Gavin’s neck stand up.

  “I fell and the pain was so intense that I thought I was going to die. Everything hurt. It was agony beyond anything I’d ever known, pain beyond standing. I thought my soul had gone on to the torment of the seven halls before my next incarnation could begin and begged for it to end. Eventually it did and I slipped into the warm blanket of blackness.” Samsin stopped and coughed, breath coming in gasps. He brought his one free hand up to wipe some spittle from his mouth and his hand came away bloody.

  Gavin sheathed his sword. There was no threat here. Samsin, for all his talk, was still dying. Blood in the lungs was something from which few recovered.

  “I . . . I came out . . . on the Path. I saw my own soul and the souls of others in chains, shackled to the Path . . . I . . . I couldn’t . . .” Samsin trailed off again as another fit of coughs hit him.

  Tadeo calmly got to his feet and walked over to one of the smaller storage buildings, disappearing inside and leaving Gavin alone with Samsin. Gavin didn’t know what to do. Despite having thought Samsin’s death by stoning had been wrong, the act had been carried out. Samsin represented all that was evil and wrong with the Orinai. He and his kind had driven them out of their home. Beryl had been the one to destroy it, true, but the Orinai had driven them out. In one form or another it had been them driving everything that had happened since Kaiden’s action with the genesauri.

  Samsin coughed and a whimper of pain escaped his lips. He coughed again and wiped away more blood, slipping down the boulder’s smooth side until he was sitting on the ground, broken leg stretched out before him.