“And their son?”
“What about the boy?”
Jinet stopped short and, grabbing his arm, spun him around to look at her. “What do you know about him, Eli?”
Before her eyes, he became an Alleman once more, squaring his stance solidly over his firmly planted legs. “Why do you ask?”
“He’s my Winter Boy.”
“What?” Eli staggered as though he had been hit, but recovered almost immediately.
“I’m your mother and an Allesha! Tell me what you know.”
Eli rubbed his upper arm where her fingers had dug through the wool of his coat; it was a small gesture, but one that forced her to consider and control her agitation. Glancing in all directions, he confirmed no one else was near. Then he took her elbow, to guide her off the path to a nearby clearing where they could see anyone approaching. As they had both been trained, they positioned themselves so their combined field of vision assured no eavesdroppers. “Have you noticed anything unusual about him?” Eli moved his right foot almost imperceptibly.
She didn’t answer immediately, realizing Eli was testing her. But how much did he know? Was it dangerous to pull him in further than he was meant to be? “Yes,” she said under her breath.
“Was it familiar? Have you seen the markings before?” His hand grazed his chest.
She swallowed away the taste of bile in her mouth. “On your father’s body, the cuts…”
Eli exhaled a quick raspy undertone, “Mwertik.”
“But what kind of people would brand a newborn?” she shivered at the chill horror of it.
“I understand it’s a ritual of purchase or ransom, because he’s the headman’s first son. It may be to permanently mark him so the women can’t dupe the men into accepting the wrong child as their leader. But it could also set a standard of fierceness and bravery from his very first breath.”
“You know much more than I expected.”
“Dad told me, but only after I vowed not to tell another living soul, not even my Allesha.” He rubbed his face with both hands the way he used to as a child when baffled by a new idea or problem. A lapse of control? Or a habit he had learned to use to conceal his thoughts and intents from those adept at reading him? “Does anyone else know?” he asked.
“The only ones I’m sure of are the Alleshi of your father’s Triad. Mistral’s Allesha is my mentor.”
“And the Alleshi who stole the guns?”
“I don’t know; I pray not.” She pulled his hands from his face. “Eli, why were you and Tedrac the first melt runners? It can’t be a coincidence.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why, if you didn’t know?”
“I knew the boy was here, but not that you were his Allesha. Now that I think of it, you’d be the natural choice. Damn, I shouldn’t have been blindsided like that, just because you’re my mother.” Eli consciously adjusted his posture to help him sort his thoughts. “So, tell me about him. Will he be able to achieve anything of what Dad had hoped?”
“Your father never shared any of it with me.” Jinet hid none of her resentment. Here, now, with Eli, the time for secrecy was past. For, if not Eli, whom could she trust? Why then did her heart feel like a steel hand was squeezing it within in her chest? “Why did he take you into his confidence?”
“Because Dad knew he might not come back.”
She was almost afraid to ask. “When?”
“That last mission. The one he didn’t return from.”
“But it was a hunt, a bride’s gift of a white antelope for Brithine.”
“No.”
“He lied to me.” A part of her wasn’t surprised. Still, to have her doubts confirmed was a new kind of death, trampling her memories, conclusively destroying the dream of what she thought she had shared with Jared.
“Mom, it wasn’t like that. There are times an Alleman must hold things close.”
“I haven’t taught my Winter Boy to lie.”
“If someone should ask him about his blood parents? Would you have him tell the truth?”
“Of course not, but…”
“You can’t have it both ways, Mom.” Eli glanced at the sky; dark storm clouds were forming over the Western mountains. “I’ve got to keep moving.”
“Not yet, Eli. You still don’t have the full picture. The renegades found something from the Before Times. We don’t know what it is, but it may be even deadlier than the guns they stole.”
“I know, Mom. Dad’s Allesha told me.”
“But your Allesha doesn’t…”
“No, she doesn’t.” The statement hung in the air between them, unexplained. Jinet felt that Eli was about to say something further on the subject. Instead, he resumed walking. “Mom, I really must get going.”
She fell into step with him once more. On the path to the Battai’s, Eli constantly swept his eyes to and fro, glancing back every few moments, as any Alleman or Allesha would when covering potentially dangerous terrain — an ingrained habit which was now uncomfortably appropriate, even here in The Valley.
“Are you ever sorry you became an Alleman, Eli?”
“Sometimes, when I’m frustrated or confused or forced to choose between two terrible options.”
“Or forced to lie.”
“Yes. But sometimes, it’s what I must do to accomplish what’s needed.”
“And to survive,” Jinet acknowledged. As the path wound uphill, winter trees with their barren limbs gave way to evergreens. Life and death, it was more than the cycle of nature. It was a dance, a collision, a wary balance. Did it make any difference that Jared died on a dangerous mission rather than during a meaningless hunt? No longer a victim of some random, irrational violence, he was still just as dead. “I posed no threat to Jared.”
“No, but the knowledge he possessed could have been a threat to you.”
“Or is it that secrecy is a habit that isn’t easily broken?”
Eli turned toward his mother, altering the rhythm of his constant surveillance of the path and forest to include her. No less vigilant, he softened his gaze so she could see his care and concern. “Don’t you understand? Anyone who knows about the boy is in danger from the Mwertik — and maybe from some of our own. How could Dad have functioned as an Alleman if he had to also constantly worry about your safety?”
“So he kept me in ignorance, like a plaything he could return to when he tired of the real world.”
“You’re hurt right now, Mom. That will pass. Dad loved you.”
“Yes, I know. But what about me? Did the man I love ever truly exist?”
“Yes and no. The man who lived by your side, who was Svana’s and my father, who worked and laughed with you and sometimes made mistakes. Yes, he was very real. But the legend you built up about him after he died, no.”
“You tried to warn me, didn’t you? I just didn’t understand what you were saying about how becoming an Allesha would change more than who I was.”
“Mom, are you sorry you became an Allesha?”
Jinet knew Eli was redirecting their conversation by flipping her question back to her. But, once asked, it couldn’t be avoided. “Sometimes.” She thought a moment, then added, “Was I better off when I was blissfully ignorant? My whole world has been crumbling, bit by bit, ever since Jared was murdered. But how could it not when it was built on paper-thin myths?”
“You’re disappointed that coming to this Valley didn’t stop your world from disintegrating, aren’t you?”
“You make it sound like a childish tantrum.”
“No, Mom. It’s just that you were lucky in your birth and marriage and life before coming here. Whatever problem you encountered, you could face it squarely, knowing that with perseverance and intelligence, you would eventually find reasonable solutions. Nothing was insurmountable.”
“Except death.”
“Except death,” Eli agreed. “But the world outside our village isn’t like that, Mom. It’s messy and doesn’t always resolve in
to sensible solutions.”
“Of course not.”
“And now you’re an Allesha, whether you like it or not. Even if you left this Valley, that’s the one thing you could never leave behind you. However hard you try, you’ll never unlearn what you now know, never be able to deny who and what you’ve become.”
“If I stay here, I’m part of the lies.”
“And of the ultimate truths.”
“You still believe we can save our Peace, Eli?”
“It’s what I’ve devoted my life to, Mom.”
“Even now?”
“How else can I keep going? Two Alleshi and I don’t know how many Allemen are out there, about to start a war. I’ve got to stop them.”
“Do you know the Allemen involved?”
“Some I have called my friends.”
“Will you fight them?”
Eli didn’t answer; nor did he need to. His mother knew he would fight with all his being to save the Peace. But the choice would be wrenched from him only after he tried everything else he could think of.
“What if they’re right? What if the only way to save our Peace is to show the Mwertik that we’re willing to kill?”
“Strength isn’t found in violence. You know that, Mom.”
Something about how he said it, perhaps his deadened tone or the way his shoulders hunched forward, made her ask, “Eli, have you ever killed anyone?”
“Yes.” For several steps, his eyes no longer swept back and forth, but looked inward to a place his mother could not follow. “Yes, I have.”
Jinet felt an empty space form in her stomach, aching with a mother’s mourning. “And you would again.”
“Only if all other options failed. If it were absolutely necessary.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I never wanted you to know, Mom. I would have liked to have one person left who still saw me as that red-headed innocent you once adored.” His voice was soft and distant. “I guess it’s one thing that will never stop haunting me. What else could I have done? Why did I fail so miserably?”
She touched his arm. “Eli…”
He jerked suddenly, as though awakening to a loud report. Resuming his watchful guard, he walked faster and more determined than before. “Does the boy have it in him to be what we need?”
“If you’re asking me if I believe in this boy’s abilities, yes, I do. Still, I’m not willing to send him out to be sacrificed by schemers who…”
“That will have to be his choice. Not yours. As much as the Alleshi guide us, Allemen must make their own decisions.”
“But Eli, he was taken from the Mwertik at such a young age. Stolen by one of ours. Why should they accept him as a leader now?”
“I don’t think they will. Still, he could influence them.”
“Like the men in The Northern Border? I won’t send him out like that, with nothing more than a dream of peace to build on. “
“That story comes from long ago, before this Valley existed. Don’t use it to gauge what we’re capable of now. With your boy’s help, plus the generations of knowledge we’ve accumulated, we might yet find a way.”
“But people will die before then. I don’t want it to include my First Boy… or my son.”
“I wish I could tell you no one will be killed. But I won’t lie. It is a possibility; it’s always a possibility. However, if we don’t try, it will be a certainty. And if we’re lucky and others are willing, maybe, just maybe, no one will have to die.”
“Then hope is a cancer in more ways than one.”
“Mom, please don’t be so bitter. It’s a wondrous thing that you’re doing, preparing a boy who might avert a war and save our Peace.”
“And if I fail?”
“You taught me that allowing the possibility of failure to stop you from trying is the worst kind of failure.”
“That was before I understood what was at stake.”
“And that makes failure even more unacceptable.”
The path made one last twist through a well-groomed garden, which gradually spread out around a pebbled clearing in front of the open gate to the Battai’s. Turning to face his mother, Eli took both of her hands. “Mom, I must leave. They have such a solid head start.”
“Allemen against Allemen. An Allesha killed. What has our world come to, Eli?”
“I don’t know Mom. We plan and struggle, but we can never know for certain where our actions will take us.”
“Eli, come back to me soon.”
“I will try my damnedest, Mom.”
“I can’t lose you, too.” Jinet stroked his cheek, memorizing his face. Then they pulled each other inward, holding tightly for several silent breaths.
Eli was the first to let go. “Tell your Winter Boy that I look forward to meeting him.”
He started to turn away into the gate, but Jinet rested her hand in his elbow, stopping him. “We’ve had so little time.”
“You and me, or you and him?”
Jinet saw her own winning smile play on her son’s face, and her heart lightened for a moment. “Both.”
“I don’t know if I’ve told you before, Mom, but I’m proud of you, and I love you.”
“I love you too, Eli. And I know I’ve told you how proud I am of you.”
“Even now, after learning what you have?”
“Especially now.”
As they held each other one last time, Jinet inhaled his fragrance — a spicy scent of autumn fields, so similar to Jared’s. Before turning to leave, he kissed her on each cheek and then between the eyes, the way she used to kiss her children at night in their beds before extinguishing the lights.
Jinet watched her son walk through the gate to the Battai’s inn. Yes, he had Jared’s graceful lope and strong straight back. And like Jared, he was now walking away from her to seek danger for the sake of their Peace. It would have been easier to imagine both of them on a hunt for a white antelope. But she hadn’t come to this Valley for the sake of her own ease, any more than they had.
Chapter 75
The late afternoon twilight darkened as the storm over the Western mountain rolled in. However, Tayar saw no lights in the windows of her home. Dov didn’t rush out to her when she entered the greeting room, nor did he respond when she knocked on his bedroom door. Though the kitchen table was set for supper, the oven and stove were cold and no food had been prepared.
Tayar considered going out to the barn to look for Dov, but something drew her, instead, to the inner room. She found him, sitting cross-legged and fully clothed on an upper platform, relaxed but straight-backed, so still that the only movement in the dark room was the flicker of the single candle burning in front of him. He acknowledged her by focusing on her face when she sat on the other side of the candle. Arranging herself into a comfortable cross-legged pose, Tayar slowed her body and mind to his quiet rhythms before speaking.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Considering my options.”
“What decisions have you made?”
“I don’t have enough information to make any decisions yet. Tell me about the meeting. What has the Alleshine Council decreed?”
“They don’t have enough information, either.”
“Yet, if we combined our knowledge… theirs, mine and yours…”
“No!” Tayar’s hand shot out almost of its own volition, instinctively trying to block Dov. The candle flame danced at her sudden movement.
“No, of course not,” he said. “Not yet.”
With measured breathing, Tayar focused on calming her heart and mind.
Only when Dov saw that she was ready did he speak again. “My options are limited, but not as limited as Le’a would have them be. Le’a and that other Allesha, the one we visited.”
“Please tell me.”
“I could return to the Birani, marry Lilla and live the life I always thought I would.”
“I don’t believe you could sit at home, warming yourself
by the hearth fire, while others were in danger. Not when there was any possibility that you could save them.”
“If I believed in such a possibility.”
In the stillness, Tayar’s slight nod felt out of place.
Dov barely moved, only his lips, eyes and slow, even breaths. “When I first came here, I considered leaving, going somewhere neither the Alleshi nor the Mwertik had any influence. I would take Lilla and find another life. Sometimes, that still appeals to me.”
“But only sometimes?”
“When I feel tired and confused, when I need to picture myself claiming control over my life. It’s a fantasy I play with from time to time.” He paused. “Tell me, Tayar, what do Le’a and that other Allesha have planned for me? I know they want me to be their bridge to the Mwertik, but I’m not sure how they expect me to do it.”
“They haven’t discussed their plans with me. I imagine it would be a gradual contact, as though you were any Alleman approaching a new village. A variation on Mistral’s role.”
“Yes, that’s how I picture it, but even if I chose that option, I could surprise them. I could choose to return to the Mwertik, as a Mwertik, leaving behind all this. But I couldn’t take Lilla with me.” Dov’s tone remained temperate, though his words were harsh. “Besides, why should the Mwertik accept me? If nothing else, they’d have no reason to believe I could change my allegiances after a lifetime with their enemies.”
“Could you change your allegiances? Could you fight Mistral, learn to hate Shria… me?”
“Still, I am Mwertik and maybe that’s where I belong, if I belong anywhere.”
“You belong here, Dov.” Even as she said it, she wished she could take it back. Half truths wouldn’t help him.
“Only for a few more weeks.” Allowing himself a thin smile, Dov gently traced her jawline with his fingertips, then drew his hand back into his lap.
Tayar’s throat burned with tears she dared not shed. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”
“Only what I will not do. I cannot marry Lilla.” He said it as a sigh, fastening his resolve. “Not only because I love her too much to subject her to the danger and uncertainty, but because I must remain marriageable. It’s one way I could be a true bridge.”
The Winter Boy Page 47
