by D. L. Kramer
"I was startin' to wonder if ye'd changed ye're mind," Kile said, looking at him.
"Not for lack of trying," Nahtan answered. He braced his sheathed sword between his knees while he fastened his cloak, then slipped the belt over his arm and head, positioning the heavy weapon on his back.
"We'll take care of 'er, lad," Kile assured him.
"Has anyone gone out to check the passes yet?" Nahtan asked. He knew Rena would be in good hands here, there were three midwives within the stronghold alone. It didn't change the fact that he felt like he was abandoning her. If everything went like they'd planned, he'd be back before their child's second birthday, and that thought nagged at him.
"Not yet," Kile replied. "The watch out last night reported a couple of avalanches higher up."
Nahtan nodded, knowing what that meant. If the snow that high up was melting, the passes would be clear enough for travel within days.
"All right, let's get a couple of people out to check the passes to the northeast," he decided. Turning toward the stable, he went to get Tyran's packs out so he could start getting things ready.
The Mo'ani sent to check the passes returned late that day with the news that one pass would be clear within a couple of days with the others a day or two after that. The pace of their preparations picked up even more when everyone heard the news, and Nahtan soon found himself spending long hours making sure everything was taken care of. Kile and Bear helped him as much as they could, and Bear took a lot of the responsibility for readying the horses.
Another check of the mountain passes two days later confirmed that they would be able to leave within another day. Nahtan found himself checking in on Rena more in the last afternoon than in the previous two days. She always assured him she would be fine then ushered him back to work.
They set out on the morning of the fourth day, and Rena had Meda help her out to say goodbye. After leaving his embrace, she stood with her heavy cloak around her to watch them ride out of the stronghold. Nahtan kept looking back, wanting to remember every detail he could of her. It wasn't until they passed through the gates that he turned forward again. Adie and Bear rode to either side of him, and he was glad neither of them said anything to try reassuring him. He was leaving the woman he loved barely two months before she gave birth, and he didn't like it.
They moved quickly down through the mountain, and before Nahtan knew it, they were crossing the merchant's road. They would ride undercover of the forests on the north side of the road and cross the road again several days' travel ahead. With any luck, they would cross the mountain range again in a couple of weeks, then it would be alternating open plains and dense forests until they reached the edges of the Mowik's hills and valleys.
The only area Nahtan felt apprehensive about was the length between Devayne Hold and the church garrison. It was nearly one hundred leagues between the two, but he was certain there would be church guard scouts around.
The small army reached the mountain range on schedule and began heading through a narrow pass in rows of three to four across. A shallow stream ran in the bottom of a nearby ravine, promising to become a full river by spring. The army used the stream for fresh water, preserving what they carried with them in their waterskins.
It took them almost four days to wind their way through the pass. When they finally reached the other side of the mountains, Nahtan felt a weight settle over him. He knew there was no turning back now. Ahead of them stretched a short, empty plain with trees visible half a day's ride ahead. They made camp for the night and set out for the safety of the trees first thing in the morning.
The snow on the ground continued to melt rapidly, and by the time another week passed, they saw very little. The soft moss and ground cover in the forest was saturated with water, and many of their camps were made on piles of sticks as they tried to keep dry.
They passed unobserved between Devayne Hold and the church guard garrison, and from there Nahtan felt some relief.
The days and weeks blurred together and Nahtan barely noticed when they came across new buds on some of the trees. It wasn't until they came across a bush with full leaves and blossoms some weeks later that he realized how much time was passing. A quick count in his head confirmed for him that Rena would be very close to delivering their baby.
Almost immediately, he found himself growing distant from everyone around him. His concern for Rena was one reason, but the realization that spring was upon them brought a whole new stream of memories and thoughts into his mind. He even caught himself snapping at Adie and Bear when they tried to talk to him, and spent quite a bit of time alone.
The memories that lurked in his mind were disquieting and he found he couldn't dwell on them for very long without feeling an aching loss deep within him. Faces stayed masked and shadowed, making the few clear memories he had all the more bothersome.
Realizing he couldn't keep antagonizing his friends, Nahtan started taking one of the longer watch shifts. He hoped to work out some of his thoughts and memories. Before too much time had passed, he wasn't surprised when Bear showed up with Tiimu, dropping down to sit beside him.
"You know," Bear began, letting the little fox go. Tiimu curled up around his master's boots and tucked his nose under his tail. The black hair on his nose was greying, and he was less active than in the last year. "You've really been a jackass lately."
"So go join the Archbishop," Nahtan shrugged, not really wanting a lecture.
"Are you worried about Rena?" Bear asked, ignoring Nahtan's comment.
"She could have had the baby by now," Nahtan said. "And I won't know for almost two years."
"Yes," Bear agreed. "But I think it's more than that."
"I've just...had a lot to think about lately." He didn't know how to explain the things in his head to himself, let alone someone else.
"I'd guessed as much," Bear nodded. "Want to try talking about it?"
"I don't know how," Nahtan confessed. "I know there are some parts that still aren't clear, and without those memories, the others don't make much sense to me."
"So what do you remember?" Bear pulled his flute from his pouch and began to experiment with quiet notes and chords. Some were barely loud enough to be heard.
Nahtan shook his head, trying to find someplace to start. It was difficult, since he didn't know the beginning himself.
"I mostly remember feeling alone," he finally said. "Even though there are others around me."
"Others?" Bear paused in his playing to reposition his fingers.
Nahtan shrugged. "I guess we were spirits of some sort," he said. "The others seemed happy to live in places Zakris created but I wasn't. I wanted to know more about the gods and the mortals."
Bear lowered his flute to look at Nahtan with surprised eyes. "Live in places?" he repeated. "You mean like the Wardsman in the Wardsman's Woods?"
Nahtan stopped, several things falling into place in his mind. That was exactly what it was like. Slowly, he nodded his head. "Just like the Wardsman," he agreed.
"There's a cave like that in the hills outside my village," Bear told him. "The spirit doesn't have a name of her own so people started calling her Kutci. It means 'good'."
"Why didn't you mention her before?" Nahtan asked.
Bear shrugged. "No reason to, I guess," he answered. "So what else?"
"We'd been by ourselves for a long time and forgotten a lot of who and what we were," Nahtan paused. "But when I remembered when Zared tried to kill me in the lion's den, it reminded me." His voice trailed off as another memory surfaced. He remembered himself covered with blood. He shuddered when he realized not all of it was his.
Bear gave him a sideways look. "Go on," he prompted. "Reminded you of what?"
"What we were and why we were alone." He knew this part very well. The memory of Zared's attack was so clear he could still occasionally feel the burning scratches on his throat and the intense pain that racked his body. The memories the attack awoke in that other lifetime
were just as vivid to him in this one.
"So much time passed, we'd forgotten what pain and fear were, but the pain from his attack reminded me." He paused to swallow. He hadn't even told Rena and Meda these memories. "We'd waged war on our own people as well as any others for so long, no one could remember what started it. In the end, there were only a few of us left. We eventually quit fighting, but it was too late. We'd destroyed the land and we couldn't reconcile enough to save our races." Tears built in his eyes as the rest of the new memory came into sharp focus. The blood covering him had belonged to a boy he had carried from a battlefield. A boy who had died in his arms before they reached the edge of the field. "All the others who died went back to our gods, but by the time we died a long time later, there was no place left to go." He fell silent, realizing why his memories were filled with so much loneliness. Whoever or whatever their gods were, they had given up on the last few survivors and abandoned them in their dead land.
"You were a group of spirits trapped here?" Bear asked quietly.
Nahtan nodded. "That's why I wanted to learn so much more about Zakris and his daughters when they first came. Zakris held the power to create a new world and replace the life we destroyed." He shook his head slowly. "I thought maybe they could teach us how to live again and give us a chance to correct our mistakes." He fought off the sudden urge to go rinse his hands and arms off.
"It seems to me, you're the only one who got that chance," Bear pointed out after a moment.
"What do you mean?" Nahtan looked at him, puzzled.
Bear shrugged. "You were made mortal to hide you from Zared, right?"
Nahtan nodded his head. There was never any confusion over that.
Bear waited for a moment, then sighed. "I'm talking to a spirit who might be older than Zakris himself, and he still can't figure things out."
"You've always been better at these things than I have," Nahtan pointed out. "But please, elaborate for me."
"Halona's destiny for you basically makes you the highest teacher and example for the mortals of this world," he explained. "You're going to have to spend the rest of your life teaching people how to survive with each other."
Nahtan's eyes widened as his friend's words sank in. Once again, Bear pieced together obvious clues to reach the only solution that made sense. And he did it long before Nahtan ever would have.
"I hadn't realized--"
"Of course you hadn't," Bear rolled his eyes. "That's probably why Rena got pregnant, you know."
"Why?" Nahtan shook his head slightly, trying to catch up with his friend. Bear's mind jumped through these things entirely too fast for him.
Bear sighed. "You said Rena wouldn't be able to have children because she wasn't mortal and therefore not a direct link to any family line, right?"
Nahtan nodded and waited for him to continue.
"Well, neither are you," Bear pointed out. "If you were going to have a chance to start your family line again, it couldn't be with a mortal who might already have her destiny planned elsewhere."
"How, by Jensina's symbols, did you come up with all that?" Nahtan asked, amazed.
Bear grinned at him and lifted his flute to his lips again. "It was all right there, you just should have talked to me about it sooner." Setting the flute below his lower lip, he began to play a soft melody.
In the next few days, Nahtan's mood and patience improved dramatically. Since having Bear point out the obvious to him, other things seemed to fall into place. He knew that his ideas and tactics were coming from memories and experiences in another lifetime, but now he was able to trust them more, realizing they were more than just blind instinct, but based on actual experience.
He still couldn't remember exactly who or what he was, but he knew he survived until the end by being one of the strongest and most adaptable. The battles he helped plan then weren't so different from the battles they were planning now. This time, however, he knew there was a time when you accepted a victory or loss for what it was and turned away from the battlefield.
Five - "I don't recognize anything"
They reached the first of the Mowik villages in early summer. Wood and thatch homes were dotted among the hundreds of acres of farmland on either side of the winding road. Ahead of them sat the village center and waiting on the road just outside of it was an older woman and two young men on horseback.
Nahtan motioned for the Mo'ani behind them to stop, then he, Bear, Tuketu and Adie continued forward.
"We welcome you," the woman said, nodding her head to them. Silver streaks shot through her black hair from the point on her brow. Her dark eyes met Nahtan's easily and he was stirred by the strength in them. If the rest of the Mowik had her confidence, the BishopLord wouldn't stand a chance. "I can't tell you how long we have been watching for a red-cloaked army to crest these hills."
"I have a pretty good idea," Nahtan nodded, liking the woman instantly. "These are my friends, Lady Adiella of Herridon, Sewati and his brother Tuketu."
The woman nodded to each of them, pausing on Adie. "Mo'ani's granddaughter?" she asked, then continued when Adie nodded. "You'll have to tell me what became of the young nobleman you had your heart set on."
Adie studied the woman for a moment, then smiled with recognition. "Kanatu?" she asked.
The woman nodded.
Adie chuckled. "He's not so young anymore, and he's the captain of the guard now. Beyond that, everything's about the same."
"A pity," Kanatu shook her head. "We'll have to discuss it after you've rested some." She turned her attention back to Nahtan. "There is a dell a few leagues further ahead," she continued. "Your army will be safe from any church scouts there."
"Thank you," Nahtan nodded his gratitude.
"I'll show you the way," Kanatu invited, turning her horse.
Nahtan motioned to the army behind them, and they set out once again. The village was small, and the first few people they passed seemed restrained and cautious. When the Mowik realized what the army was, the air in the village quickly lightened and Nahtan saw more smiling faces as they rode past.
At the far end of the village, a small marketplace was set up. Fish and strange, brightly colored fruits were sold at most of the tables, and there was more than one weaver's loom in operation.
Kanatu stopped by one table and spoke quietly with the tall man standing beside it. The man shifted his gaze to Nahtan, and his eyes seemed to widen the slightest bit. Nahtan glared at Bear when his friend chuckled.
"One of these days," he threatened. "I'm going to find something that annoys you just as much."
"Not likely," Bear smiled. He turned to watch a young girl at one of the looms. Her shuttle moved as if guided by a spirit's hands. "My mother used to weave," he noted, a hint of sadness in his voice.
Nahtan turned to watch the girl for a moment. "Maybe your father still has some of her things," he suggested. He knew it would be hard for Bear to confront what had happened to his mother.
Bear shrugged. "Probably," he agreed. He looked around them. "I don't recognize anything here."
"It's been almost fourteen years since we left," Tuketu pointed out from Bear's other side. "This village was probably only a tenth this size when we passed through it before."
Bear nodded. "If it was even here," he agreed.
"I've arranged for fresh supplies to be brought to you," Kanatu said to Nahtan, returning to the head of the procession.
"Thank you," Nahtan nodded. They had been relying on travel rations the last couple of days, and he knew fresh food would be appreciated.
Kanatu pulled herself onto her horse's back and they set out once again. The dell she led them to was well-protected and the army set up camp quickly, glad to finally have a couple of days to rest. Several wagons of supplies appeared shortly after. The Mowik gave them more than enough to replenish their stores.
A few days later, with the army now rested, they set out for the next Mowik village three days ride ahead. Kanatu rode with them,
pointing out areas where the church guards posted sentries and telling Nahtan when to watch for them. Luckily, this first village was small and rarely watched.
Nahtan began sending scouts ahead to watch for patrols. Two days before reaching the next village, word came back that two church guard sentries had been spotted. Nahtan halted the army and he and Bear set out on foot to find the church guards. Finding them on a low hill, they circled around using the brush as cover. Moving up from behind, Bear pulled his flute from his pouch and played a few short notes. The guard seemed to tense for a moment, then fell over asleep.
"One of Kile's songs?" Nahtan asked as they walked back down the hill.
"Of course," Bear smiled, putting his flute back. "His have longer effects than the Dwellers'."
The second sentry fell asleep just as quickly. Nahtan and Bear returned to the waiting army and the procession rode past with no problem. As sentries were spotted, they repeated the process, leaving each guard in a sound sleep.
Their greeting at each village was the same as the first, and each time, at least one elder from the village continued on ahead with them. When they neared the larger villages, it started taking significantly longer for them to find the guards and put them to sleep. Nahtan didn't dare kill any of them. Bodies would raise questions, and he didn't want the BishopLord sending anymore church guards into the villages than were already there. Sleeping guards, however, would find ways to cover their own arses, believing the lapse to be their own fault and not wanting it to back to their commanders' attention.
After nearly two weeks of travel, they reached the top of the hill overlooking Bear's village.
Nahtan quickly realized that the term "village" was apparently used to describe every community of the Mowik people. His term for where Bear was from was closer to "city". Streets ran arrow-straight, criss-crossing at even intervals. The marketplace took up nearly a quarter of the area, and was filled with merchants' booths and tables and the stockyards were filled with a variety of sheep, cattle and horses.
