Gavin was at his side the next instant, a hand on Samsin’s shoulder supporting him.
“What do you need?” Gavin asked.
“Water,” Samsin said, swallowing hard. “Just some water.”
Gavin looked up as Tadeo came out of the storage room carrying a waterskin and a small wooden cup. He set it down on the ground next to Samsin and poured some water into it. Gavin reached for it to hand to Samsin, but Tadeo held out a hand to stop him. Tadeo pulled out a small pouch from inside his shirt and tugged it open, pulling a pinch of yellow powder from inside and dropping it in the water.
“Give him this thing,” Tadeo said, nodding at the cup. “Make sure he drinks all. He is fool to be standing.”
Gavin picked up the cup and held it to Samsin’s lips. He drank a few swallows and then pulled away. His breath smelled like blood and the water in the cup came away stained pink.
“There’s still some left,” Gavin said. “Tadeo says you have to drink all of it.”
“Tadeo?” Samsin asked, lungs heaving. “Is that his name?”
“How do you not know his name?”
“Is easy,” Tadeo said, coming back with a small earthen jar that contained a second powder, this one green. “I did not tell him this thing. Was not important.”
“Well, it’s important for you to tell me what’s going on, so how about you pick up where he left off.”
Samsin struggled to speak, but Tadeo held the cup to Samsin’s lips, this time with the green powder added too, and forced him to drink.
“Hush, Storm Ward, I will tell him this thing.”
Samsin gulped down the drink and Gavin and Tadeo helped him settle back against the boulder. Despite his seven-foot frame, Gavin could have easily managed it on his own. Samsin was far lighter than he had any right to be.
“I found him the night after he was stoned,” Tadeo said, moving back to sit on his side of the fire. “I think, he is dead, is sure, but when I walked by he made small noise. I took him here and he had recovered a little. Still, he thinks he is stronger than he is. This thing is not good.”
Gavin moved back to where he’d been sitting before and took a seat, though he kept his hand close to the hilt of his sword. He didn’t think either of them were really a threat, but the hairs on the back of his neck still hadn’t come down.
“Why have you kept him hidden? What does any of this have to do with the Orinai army?”
Tadeo met Gavin’s eyes and held them, but didn’t answer.
“The army will come for all of you soon,” Samsin said, voice slurring slightly. “It is their way. They will not let you live. Tadeo can’t get Brisson to listen to reason. He needs your help.”
“This thing is only partly true,” Tadeo said, frowning at Samsin. “The army must attack before the snows hit. They will not want to winter here in the north. Is small miracle they have not done this thing already.”
Samsin nodded, an act which seemed to take all his effort. Gavin looked from one to the other. In the dark, a few night insects started calling to one another.
“I’m still not sure what Samsin’s part in all this is? Why shouldn’t I just go to Brisson and tell him Samsin survived. How did they not figure out he wasn’t dead too, by the way?”
“Brisson sent men down to see body. They said he was dead and I do not blame them. I thought he was dead too.” Tadeo turned the spit and then pulled the skewer off the fire altogether. He leaned it against the side of a boulder, juices dripping down into the dirt and steam wafting up into the night air. Gavin’s mouth watered.
“And Samsin’s part in this?” Gavin asked, tearing his eyes away from the meat.
“Nikanor was a part of something within the Orinai,” Samsin whispered, barely loud enough for Gavin to hear. “A resistance.” Samsin licked his lips. “Before he died, he told me how to contact them.”
Gavin narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
Samsin swallowed again and tried to focus on Gavin. It didn’t seem like he had very much control over his eyes.
“I—I did not believe it was needed. I am—I was a true Orinai Great One. Now—” He coughed. “Now I see the Path differently. Please, Gavin, you must help us. Please.” The last trailed off and Samsin’s eyelids drifted closed. For half a heartbeat Gavin thought he’d died, but then he saw the rise and fall of Samsin’s chest and relaxed a little.
“I put a thing in his drink to make him sleep,” Tadeo said. “He is as stubborn as one of your people, I think.”
Gavin wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or not.
“What exactly do you want me to do?” Gavin asked.
“Speak to Brisson. We need to let the people know about this thing. The army will come. We need to plan what it is that we will do.”
“I’m going to need more than just your word before I approach Brisson with something like this,” Gavin said. “What about him? Will he live?”
Tadeo shrugged. “Is up to him now. Wound will heal, eventually, with rest. He must have the will to live. As for you, this thing is true. I will show you the army tomorrow. You have bird on which you can fly, yes?”
Gavin nodded. “I do. I will meet you at sunrise.” A thought occurred to him. “But I will need your help in return. I need to find someone, the man you stopped from leaving the valley earlier.”
“I will do this thing,” Tadeo said, then picked up the skewer of meat and sliced off a long, thin piece in one smooth cut. It landed on Tadeo’s tray, juicy and glistening. “Do you want some?”
Gavin’s stomach growled and he grabbed his own wooden platter. Despite the troubling reservations bouncing around in his thoughts, he wasn’t going to pass up food.
* * *
By the time Gavin returned to his hut, it was well past midnight. He’d eaten far more meat that he should have and he’d walked slowly. He was glad of that, though, as he’d had a lot to think over. That Samsin was alive was a big part of it, but the Orinai army potentially sitting only a few days away with winter blowing frosty breath upon autumn’s toes was even more pressing.
Gavin blew out a long, heavy breath in front of the door to his hut, the breath forming a cloud of mist that vanished in the darkness. The chill night air felt especially cold now. It had taken on a whole new meaning for him in the last few hours. He turned the handle, pushed open the door, and stepped quietly into the room. Light glowed softly from a lamp on the table in the center of the room. Shallee sat in a small chair she’d gotten somewhere, one which rocked back and forth according to her motion. She looked up when Gavin entered. Her son lay contentedly dozing in her lap.
“What are you doing out so late, great leader of the Rahuli?” Shallee asked in a whisper. She smiled at him, though she looked about as tired as he felt.
“I took a walk,” Gavin shut the door carefully behind him. “What are you doing up?”
“This little one decided we needed to walk around a little too, the little monster. At least he’s handsome, like his father.”
Gavin felt a twinge of sadness pass through him. Shallee’s husband had been killed in the Oasis when Kaiden had drawn the genesauri monsters there. She’d given birth to their son after his death and the little boy would grow up never knowing his father. Despite that, Shallee still managed to be Gavin’s rock.
“What, Gavin?” Shallee asked, eyes flicking over him as she gently rocked in her chair. “You look as if your grandmother had caught you stealing the goat cheese again. What’s got you looking like a little stormcloud?”
Gavin gave her a rueful smile. “I never could hide anything from either of you.” His smile caught a little as memories of his grandmother danced through his mind. He hadn’t realized how much he still missed her until acknowledging the dull ache the memories created. “She’s why you call me ‘little stormcloud,’ isn’t it?”
Shallee gave him a small smile and picked up her son, who was beginning to fuss and squirm on her lap. “Tell me what’s going on.�
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Gavin hesitated. He didn’t know himself if he believed what Samsin and Tadeo had just told him, or even how he felt about it. What they’d said about the information causing panic and chaos within the people here, however, had been true. He couldn’t afford to let the information spread any further than absolutely necessary, especially if it turned out not to be true.
Still, Gavin realized he wanted to tell her. Always before when he’d made difficult decisions, he’d made them alone. He’d been alone. When he’d climbed the walls of the Oasis to see if the legends his grandmother had always told him were true, he’d been alone. When he’d rallied the clans in the Oasis and set them to defending themselves as a people instead of just as clans, he’d been alone. When he faced down Brisson and fought Kaiden and Sarial, he’d been alone. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. But, at the same time, he realized Shallee wasn’t the one he needed to talk to.
“You’re right. Things have been going on,” Gavin said. “But I can’t tell you right now.” He walked toward the door to the room Shallee and Farah shared, then hesitated and looked over at Shallee.
The woman was pointedly ignoring him, looking down at her son’s face illuminated in the lamp light, but a small smile played at the corners of her eyes.
Gavin opened the door and stepped into the room. The light from the main room streamed in, falling across Farah’s slumbering form on the bed furthest from the door. Shallee’s bed lay just inside the door and off to the right, a smaller rocking baby cradle lay next to it.
“Gavin?”
He jumped, eyes darting back to Farah’s bed. He’d thought she was asleep, but her eyes were wide open now, looking at him with mild curiosity. The confidence and surety he’d felt at his decision only moments before bled out of him in an instant beneath those deep blue eyes.
“Did you need something or did you just come to stare?” She had the blanket pulled up to her neck, but Gavin still felt himself flush.
“We need to talk, if that is alright with you,” Gavin said, sitting down on the edge of Shallee’s bed. He left the door partially cracked so as not to cast the room into total darkness.
“Alright.” Farah sat up, holding the blanket against her chest as she rose and then tugging it around her shoulders like a cloak. She was still a little bleary-eyed, but her expression was intent and serious. Gavin wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“What is it, Gavin?”
Gavin looked up and met those blue eyes again. He told her everything Tadeo and Samsin had told him, starting with Samsin being alive and leaving nothing out. He told her about his meetings with Brisson and his own fears and insecurities. He told her things he hadn’t meant to talk about. He knew he was rambling a little, but it felt so good to talk, to get it out, to have someone to confide in. Farah listened without comment, though she did nod in a few places. Gavin didn’t know if it was in agreement or simply to acknowledge that she was still listening.
Gavin finally trailed off, unsure of what else to say and not really knowing if he’d just made himself look like a fool.
“Well, you’re right,” Farah said. “We did need to talk. I agree with your decision about seeing the army for yourself. You’re meeting Tadeo at dawn, you said?”
Gavin nodded.
“Good. Now, if you could please leave, I’d like to at least get a little sleep before having to get up in a few hours. Talyshan hates this cold, but I can persuade him to understand if I give him enough time.”
“Talyshan?”
Farah rolled her eyes and blew out a long sigh. “You don’t think I’m going to let you go alone, do you? I’m coming with you.”
“You’re what?”
“Coming with you,” Farah repeated in a firm voice.
“Why? There’s no need for you to come along.”
Farah’s eyes flashed and her lips hardened into a thin line before she spoke. “Because,” she said, glaring at him, “in case you haven’t noticed, I happen to love you. Now go get some sleep or you’ll be the one who’s not needed tomorrow.”
With that, Farah leaned back onto the bed and rolled over onto her side, turning her back toward him.
Gavin stared at her for a long moment, stunned. She loved him? He knew they’d had some sort of a relationship before this and he cared for her, but . . . she loved him? He got to his feet, more confused now than when he’d entered, but for a completely different reason, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
“The appropriate response when a girl says she loves you,” Shallee said softly, pulling Gavin out of his thoughts, “is to say you love her too.”
“What?” Gavin felt himself flush.
“Come now, Gavin, you can’t hide things from me. I’ve seen the way you look at her and how the two of you interact. You’re both young, independent, and stubborn, but you love Farah as sure as I loved my husband.”
“But . . .” Gavin worked his mouth but no sound came out. Did he love her? He didn’t really know, in all honesty. He had no experience with women. He knew he wanted her to be happy and being with her always seemed to help him be happy.
“Just answer me one question, little stormcloud,” Shallee said, a small smile on her face. “Why did you decide to talk to her instead of me?”
Why had he?
“When I thought about all the times I’d made difficult decisions, or even when I’d made mistakes since my grandmother had died, she was always there for me. I—” Gavin stopped, sudden realization and acceptance flooding through him. “I guess I do love her.”
“I suggest you find a different way to phrase it when you tell her. Leave out the ‘I guess.’”
* * *
Behind the door, Farah listened, ear pressed up against the wood. The sound of Gavin’s footsteps retreating into his room were a muffled thump through the door. She sucked in a deep breath and leaned back slightly, away from the door. She was furious with herself for losing her temper and telling him that she loved him. The fact that he didn’t know already was as much a part of her frustration as her own mistake had been. Her temper always got the better of her, especially around Gavin. He just made her so frustrated sometimes. But he loved her too.
She stepped back from the door, arms hugging her shoulders as she suppressed a shiver. Back under the warm embrace of her blankets, Farah scrubbed the back of her hand across her cheeks, wiping away tears. He loved her too.
He hadn’t said it to her, but he’d said it. That was something, at the very least, more than she’d had before. There were times when she’d felt like a foolish girl mooning after a passing fancy, something she’d promised herself as a young girl she would never do. But he loved her too. And he trusted her.
That thought brought back up everything Gavin had told her. Samsin, the army, Brisson. Each of those were connected, but presented their own challenges as well. The army was the biggest threat, even if Farah shuddered at the thought of Samsin still being alive. She hadn’t liked the brutality of his death, nor the bloodthirsty side of Brisson’s people she’d witnessed at the Storm Ward’s execution, but—for a moment at least—she’d seen it through their eyes. This was vindication and justice on a thousand years of slavery. What had happened was more symbolic than anything, a casting off of their former lives into a new world of freedoms never before experienced. It was like what she’d experienced when learning the mystic powers.
But that army.
The army itself wasn’t the real threat. The people finding out about the army wasn’t the real threat. No, the real threat was that the people themselves weren’t warriors. Even if they were told and reacted well to the knowledge, none of their leaders, Brisson included, were strong enough to hold them through whatever came. Gavin wasn’t yet, either, but he had much more potential for it than Brisson did. And with her help . . .
Despite her exhaustion, Farah didn’t find sleep that night. She lay awake thinking and planning, her thoughts drifting from how to help Gavin,
to the man himself, and then around to the army sitting at their door.
Chapter 16: Authority
“That there was a continuity after this life was a concept stolen from the Sensari people.”
—From the Discourses on Knowledge, Volume 15, Year 1023
Elyana sat within the confines of her small room, leaning against a wall. An oil lantern cast a pale light over the room, illuminating the shelves of scrolls and fighting the deeper, redder glow of the fire crackling in the hearth. Lhaurel participated in the dream, experiencing it as Elyana did. Lhaurel was coming to understand, to realize, that the dreams were not really dreams at all. They were something deeper. Memory.
Part of her.
Elyana flexed her fingers, staring down at her hands. They were wrinkled and stained like those of a sand-spider now. Not using her powers was aging her prematurely, giving her the body of a woman three times her years. Her Sister—no, the Sister of Knowledge—Selhita, had theorized that it might happen that way. Using their powers, drawing in the life force and blood of another, gave them an unnatural grace and beauty, slowing or even reversing the aging process. But, as Selhita was fond of saying, everything comes with a cost. There was no way to throw a stone into a fountain without creating ripples. Lhaurel paused at the use of the word fountain, wondering what it meant, but she was able to get a faint image of it through Elyana’s thoughts, like a small pool of water set in a public place. Like the spring pool back in the Sharani Desert.
Sometimes hearing Elyana’s thoughts was a simple matter in these dreams, while other times Lhaurel simply watched and observed. Even when she could hear Elyana, it was a broken, scattered communication, as if heard from a long distance and only part of the message could be discerned.
Elyana stood up suddenly, a sigh of exasperation and frustration escaping her lips. She strode over to the large glass container on top of the shelves near her small bed. She paused for a brief moment to grab a piece of meat from a wooden plate on the table. Approaching the tank, Lhaurel was able to make out what moved within in it. Half a dozen small, serpentine creatures swam about in the water, darting in and out of rock-like structures submerged in the container. They all darted into hiding as Elyana approached.
Sharani series Box Set Page 80
