“There are other ways,” he replied absently, waving his hand to direct her forward. “That is merely the quickest.”
Following Uttae’s direction Aiva fell into step beside him on the path. They were deep within the jungle. The plant life was unfamiliar with leaves wide and long, creating a lush canopy overhead. “It is beautiful here,” she breathed, awed by the vision of the land around her. So many plants looked foreign, almost fake, as if they traveled along a masterful painting to create the backdrop. Occasionally her hand reached out to touch the leaves, verifying that they were in fact real.
“The village of Iachoor is not far from here,” Uttae explained. “I will see that you and your husband are outfitted for the time you remain. Our clothing will not be like your own, but it will be sufficient. If I am able to get you before King Ihklos, I cannot have you looking like you do.”
“Your King?” Aiva blinked. “You believe he will have an audience with us?”
“It is very possible. Etiquette expects him to at least entertain you long enough to hear your reasons for being on our land. To deny the daughter of an ally would be unlike him. He takes political friendships very seriously.” Uttae glanced over to Aiva sternly. “I need to know what you ask of us before I approach him. How much assistance do you require in seeing you safely from our shores?”
Aiva drew her shoulders back proudly. While she hated to ask for help, it was somehow easier to discuss matters with Uttae than it had been with Phaezut. Uttae was a known ally and friend of her family. It would take less effort to convince him. “We require very little,” she replied, confident. “My husband and I need only to reach the shores of the islands to the north. Any further arrangements for transportation can be handled there. My father and General Zerne will have a ship on the mainland of Luquarr to carry us the rest of the way home to Tanispa.”
Thinking over her words Uttae gave a slight nod. “That is a reasonable request. The islands to the north are no more than a day’s journey. If King Ihklos agrees to assist, it would take little effort to see you to the trade ports. I should warn you, however. Your husband will not be ready to travel for a while. He needs to remain off his feet for at least a week before I will even consider letting him onto a boat. I would prefer he stay immobile longer. How soon do you hope to be on your way?”
“Regrettably we must be on the water as soon as possible. You see… it is not a mere vacation which brings us south.” Aiva nibbled her lip thoughtfully. She wasn’t sure if it would do any good to make the Tunirons aware of their predicament with the pirates, yet she felt compelled to explain the reason for their intrusion. If she could garner greater sympathy from him and his people, it would increase the chances of King Ihklos’s approval. “A particular band of pirates kidnapped my sister. We have been traveling for weeks to catch up with them. It was an unfortunate accident which led to our ship falling prey to the divastru, but the rest of the surviving crew has continued on to the Luquarrian mainland where we believe my sister to have been taken. The sooner we rejoin them, the more help we can offer my father and the General in getting her back.”
“The pirates are not people you want to make enemies of,” Uttae frowned. “They are elusive and many are skilled fighters, for their kind. Even more reason why your husband should allow his body time to heal.”
Aiva gazed ahead. It would be Uttae’s decision in the end. Nothing she said would convince him to let Callum go before he was ready. Her concern was in the amount of time they had already lost. The days on Tunir blended together and Uttae discussed plans to keep them for another week. Possibly more. If he held them much longer, there would be no chance of catching up with the others. If Edric was still alive, he would be nearly halfway to Luquarr by now.
A pressure inside her chest struck at the thought of Edric and her uncertainty of his fate. He and the others had been boarding the lifeboats, but there was no way to be sure they ever reached them. What if the divastru found them? On the tiny wooden crafts Gadiel and Edric would be no match for a creature of such size and strength. Aiva had seen what it did to Callum. While he miraculously survived, it would be unlikely such a miracle would be granted again.
Saddened by the possibility, she let herself continue onward, eyes downcast to the soft soil at her bare feet. She couldn’t let herself give up. Not after she’d come so far. Edric had to be alive. If he wasn’t, she believed she would somehow know. In her heart she felt he was still on the water. After the length of time at sea, he would be starved and exhausted, but alive. Their father would see him back to health once they reached Luquarr. There was nothing Aiva could do for them now. She had to focus on Callum. If she could find a way to improve his condition, they would be on their way soon enough. It was just a matter of how. Broken bones would be more complicated to heal even with the teachings she learned from Faustine.
Voices could be heard drifting on the air around them, drawing Aiva from her reverie. Lifting her head, she saw they had entered a clearing; ramshackle buildings littering the outer border. Larger structures dotted the inner paths of the village, the thatched roofs appearing sturdy and well-constructed. Newer than those around them. She covered her mouth with her hand to conceal her shock at the sight of the people wandering throughout the clearing. The men resembled Uttae, dressed in nothing but varying lengths and styles of loincloths, their bare chests exposed to reveal the strong muscles. It was the women which caused Aiva to blush, finding many of them dressed in similar styles to the men, uncovered aside from a strip of cloth at their waists.
In disbelief she turned to Uttae, suddenly fearful of what clothing he intended to provide. She was not going to bare her body in such a way to everyone around her. It would be disgraceful. Beyond inappropriate for a lady of the Vor’shai. Her mouth opened in protest, a memory of her first conversation with Uttae causing her to close it again. Anything she said would sound insulting toward their people and culture the way it had when she mentioned Uttae’s grasp on a common dialect. While among the Vor’shai it was improper for a lady to show so much skin, it was common in Tunir. If she argued it to be indecent, Uttae might believe her to consider their women indecorous. She would have to think of a more tactful way to inquire of her wardrobe.
“Your women do not wear much for cover. I must say I am surprised, after seeing the way your daughter conceals her body.”
A wide grin flashed over Uttae’s features. “My daughter conceals herself as part of her profession. She is the local witch. Her dress sets her apart so she is recognized by the villagers.” Out of the corner of his eye he stole a glance at Aiva, his smile widening. “Do not worry yourself. We will find something suitable for your modesty. I know you Vor’shai lack the confidence and maturity to don the clothing of my people without creating a stir.”
Offended by the remark Aiva found herself unable to prevent a retort. They may be in his land, but if he was not going to show respect for the practices of her people, she felt no need to sugarcoat her comments regarding his. “The Vor’shai do not suffer a lack of confidence and maturity. It is simply a difference in standard practice. Your women dress the way they do for whatever reasons of heat and simplicity. The ladies of Tanispa dress the way we do because we consider it inappropriate for a woman to show herself to anyone other than her husband.”
Uttae came to an abrupt stop, turning to look Aiva over appraisingly. “A proud specimen you are,” he mused. “That is an admirable trait. I expected you to hold back.”
“It matters not what country I am in. I will defend my people. If you were in my position, I believe you would do the same,” she nodded, averting her eyes to stare toward the village once again. “While I intended no offense, I refuse to let anyone speak poorly of those in the country which my parents govern.”
Resuming his brisk pace toward the center of the clearing Uttae gave a sharp nod. “You and your husband share many of the traits your parents exhibited during my time in your land. With your courage and tenacity, I have n
o doubt you will find your sister and take down every pirate in your path along the way. May the spirits have mercy on their souls.”
Surprised by the compliment Aiva fell silent. There was nothing to be said in response. If he thought so highly of her, she didn’t want to risk doing anything more which might lessen his praise.
He beckoned her forward to one of the buildings, pausing just under an overhang out front to wait for Aiva to join him. Through the door Aiva stared in awe at the sight of the interior. Walls were lined with weapons and hunting accessories. Blades polished to a brilliant sheen while the belts and quivers were made of the finest leather and animal hide to create a sturdy product. A younger Tuniron woman sat behind a makeshift desk, her head lifting to greet them with a smile as they entered.
Uttae struck up a conversation with the woman in their native tongue, leaving Aiva to listen in confusion to the odd grunts and noises which comprised their language. She didn’t need to know what they discussed. If Uttae felt it necessary for her to know, he would translate.
Distracted, she began a slow circle around the shop, admiring the wares set out for sale. If only Callum could be there! He would appreciate the craftsmanship of the daggers and swords. They would need something more than his lone blade to defend themselves in a battle against the pirates. When Callum was better, they would have to see about returning to this store before leaving for the islands.
The young woman approached Aiva with a look of concentration, a piece of string in one hand and a long wooden rod in the other. Blackened slashes could be seen across varying points on the instrument as the woman stood it beside Aiva, notching it with a knife to mark some unknown measurement. With the string, she wrapped it around Aiva’s waist, nodding to Uttae in agreement of something, her words quick and sharp to discuss whatever it was she had found.
Fascinated by the scene Aiva let her eyes wander back to the two, watching them intently. It didn’t require words for her to determine that they spoke of clothes. Was Uttae having something fashioned for her? Specific to the tastes of the Vor’shai? Aiva doubted whether their seamstresses would be familiar with how to cut a dress of such foreign design. They had no need for wearing so much fabric in Tunir. It would only add to the heat and cling to the skin from sweat caused by the wretched humidity. She couldn’t blame them for wearing so little. If she had to live there for an extended period of time, she believed her modesty would be overruled by a desire to maintain a cooler temperature and leave her just as exposed as the Tuniron women.
“It is done,” Uttae stated suddenly, the words piercing through Aiva’s thoughts with their clarity. “By nightfall we will have you out of those rags and into something more fitting. For now we should get you back to the house. I must leave with my men tonight and will be gone for a few days. While I am away, you can make yourself useful by assisting Enokih in her work.”
“You are leaving?” Aiva asked, a hint of unease in her tone. She didn’t want him to go. He was the closest thing to a friend they had in the entire village. The thought of being left in Enokih’s care without him was disconcerting. Enokih had shown herself to be set in her ways and unknowledgeable of anyone outside her own people. Her company would be less than pleasant.
“Only for a day or two. When I return we will see about getting you to the King.”
“I suspect your daughter will have no use for me. She seems to dislike the way my people practice medicine…”
“Enokih dislikes admitting that anyone might understand the work she does,” Uttae smirked, motioning Aiva toward the door of the shop. “The use of spirit energy among our people is sacred. Those who have made it their lives to build upon their understanding of its workings are revered. She knows very little of Vor’shai medicine and is intimidated by the ease in which you and your husband access the gifts. Don’t let her roughness fool you. She has a great deal of respect for you both. Enokih believes the spirits must smile upon you for favoring you in their magic the way they do.”
A smile played at the corner of Aiva’s lips to hear Uttae’s admission. It had never crossed her mind that the Vor’shai energy might be frightening for Enokih. She only wished Enokih could more easily let her opinions be known rather than retaliating against them in anger due to her lack of understanding. “I will do what I can to help, then,” Aiva nodded in agreement. “By the time you return, we will hopefully have no need to impose upon your family much longer.”
“Worry not on it, Princess. I have reason to believe your people would do the same for mine.” Grabbing onto her arms Uttae positioned Aiva on his back once again, eyes lifted to the trees overhead. “Hang on tightly. When we reach the house, there is a river a short distance through the trees where you can bathe and seek to make yourself comfortable for your stay. Just be watchful of the crocodiles. You are a slight woman. They will swallow you in a single gulp if you let them get too close.”
“Crocodiles?” Aiva gasped. She’d heard of such creatures, but never before had she set eyes upon them. It was an alarming thought to consider. “I do hope you speak in jest.”
“One does not jest when speaking of crocodiles,” he smirked. “Just keep your eyes open and you will be fine.” Crouching down Uttae gathered his strength, feet pounding along the ground until they reached the edge of the clearing. In a powerful leap he took to the trees, seeming to run across the branches with nothing more than an occasional jerking motion to reset his hold and swing to the next. Burying her face in his back Aiva clung to him for dear life, anxious to be at the house and safely on solid ground once more.
The day passed quickly for Aiva at Enokih’s side, tending to the men and women who came to her for spiritual and medicinal aid. Uttae came to check on them from time to time, occasionally stepping into the room to watch in silence before slipping out again without a word. By the time the sun started to set, Aiva could feel her stomach ache from hunger, reminding her of the fact that she’d barely eaten anything in days. Other than a mug filled with water brought in throughout the afternoon, she was famished. Drained.
Her hand came to rest over her abdomen to apply pressure in hopes of easing the pangs. Turning away from Enokih to hide the discomfort, she found herself staring into the muscular chest of Uttae. “Princess,” he stated calmly. “Your clothes are prepared. Enokih will assist in making sure they fit suitably and then I must be on my way.”
She was both excited and fearful of what garments Uttae had purchased. Anything would be better than the tattered dress she’d been wearing since diving into the frigid waters. After cleaning the dirt from her skin in the river, she had hated the thought of putting the rags back on, though she had little choice. She only hoped that what she was putting on now would cover her more than the clothing of the Tuniron women she’d seen in the village.
Offering a bundle of what looked to be chains, leather, and fabric to Enokih, Uttae turned around, granting a minimal amount of privacy for Aiva to undress. At her hesitation, Enokih was to her, quickly untying the laces at Aiva’s back to pull the dress over her head. Embarrassed, Aiva wrapped her arms around her chest, crouching forward to conceal as much of her skin as possible. She could hear Enokih snicker from under her shroud. “There is nothing to this woman,” she scoffed. “I don’t understand how the sea did not swallow her up.”
“Be nice, Enokih,” Uttae said sternly. “She comes from a strong family. I would not want to spur her into action and test whether or not she has been taught to fight the way her parents do.”
Enokih wrinkled her nose, saying nothing. Even she knew better than to press the matter in the presence of her father. Handing a ball of wadded fabric to Aiva, she motioned toward her legs. “Put this on. I will help if you have trouble.”
Confused by the item, Aiva held it in front of her. It appeared nothing more than an undergarment attached to a wide leather belt cinched around the hips. Two long strips of fabric had been cut to dangle from the front and back, adding more coverage than the loincloths worn
by the others in the village, though not much. The material hung nearly to the floor, looking more like a full skirt at first glance. Once she managed to slip it over her legs, she found the sides split open, revealing her bare skin along the thighs. While she attached the belt around her hips, Enokih placed a metal ring around her neck, a length of matching crimson fabric attached at the front to hang down over her breasts. Pulling it taut, she tied the material at Aiva’s back. It concealed the most important parts of her body, yet left little to the imagination, her slender midsection completely visible between the shirt and belt.
“How does it fit?” Uttae asked, turning slowly to make sure Aiva was sufficiently covered before completing the motion. Aiva left her hands positioned over her stomach, wishing desperately for more material to wrap herself in.
“Must my legs be so bare?” she replied quietly, not wanting to offend him. “It would take very little to make the skirt more full and humor my modesty.”
“Think a bit more practical, Princess. You plan to embark on a journey which will lead to inevitable battle. How do you expect to fight if your legs are restricted by cloth?” Uttae’s brow rose curiously. “This garment provides the freedom necessary to maneuver in combat.” Drawing something from a large pack draped over his shoulders, Uttae stepped forward, kneeling in front of Aiva. His hands reached out, tying a leather strap around her upper thigh, testing the tightness with his fingers before rising to his feet. Curious, Aiva looked down to what Uttae had placed there, noticing what looked to be a small sheath, equipped with one of the bone-hilted daggers she’d seen on display at the shop.
“General, you did not have to provide us with weapons. You have already done so much,” she breathed. Intrigued by the dagger, she drew it forth, the torchlight in the room playing off the sharpened metal of the jagged blade. It was long. Capable of causing significant damage for such a small weapon.
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil Page 51
