by Narro, B. T.
“What were you speaking about with their king?” Cleve asked, still unsure he could trust the Elf.
“I wanted the help of an army, and being exiled from Kyrro I turned to Tenred. I’d heard of the turmoil that existed between the two kingdoms, but I never knew how bad it really was until Tegry agreed to help only if I joined an attack on the Academy. I accepted so he would agree to assist me, knowing I could change his mind later, but I believe he may have figured that out, for he hasn’t visited again.”
Cleve felt his head whip back in shock by this. “What could you want with an army if you have no interest in attacking Kyrro?” Cleve wanted to trust Rek, but anyone trying to obtain an army seemed dangerous to him. He rose to his feet gingerly, his muscles still aching from the recent spell.
“My reasons are unrelated to both territories,” Rek said, turning his mouth up in a warm smile that reminded Cleve of Reela, which then made his heart flutter. “I’m trying to free someone who’s being held by the Krepps.” Rek’s mouth straightened and he held his chin in thought. “Although now that I’ve heard the Krepps are joining with Tenred, Tegry Hiller would never help me do any harm to them.” Rek shook his head and sighed. “I need to speak with Welson Kimard. If he thinks he can win this war, then he hasn’t seen the massive Slugari within the Krepp army or doesn’t know what they’re capable of like I do.”
Cleve realized he was shaking his head back at Rek. “That’s going to be difficult, as he’s given the order for your head, and mine too as soon as it’s clear my mission has failed. He’s convinced you’re a threat to Kyrro.”
Rek scrunched his mouth like he tasted something sour. “Welson Kimard thinks anyone who has power is a threat. His father was the same but far worse.” Rek handed the dagger and bow back to Cleve without any sign of worry.
Cleve accepted the weapons, knowing by now they were pretty much useless. It made him quite relieved knowing he wasn’t going to have to behead his uncle’s only friend. Though, he still had no idea what to do about the order from the King.
As if able to sense Cleve’s hostility had dissolved, Rek gave him a friendly nod and continued. “I grew up with Welson Kimard. He was my older brother for five years yet always kept his distance from me. I was seven and he was fifteen when his father, Westin Kimard, was killed. He then became King and happily released me from the custody of the castle, knowing I didn’t wish to stay there. We didn’t speak for nine years, until he asked me to start teaching at the Academy when its construction was completed. I thought it was his way of telling me the grudge had finally subsided. But as I taught, and my powers continued to grow over the next five years, concerns from students and teachers must have reached him, for he summoned me.”
“And he exiled you out here?”
“Yes, but only after we got into an argument and I forced him to answer a few tricky questions. He revealed information I’m sure he meant to keep secret.” Rek’s gaze locked on Cleve’s face. “Did you say your name was Polken? Cleve Polken?”
“Yes.”
“Your father was Dex Polken?”
“Did you know him?”
“Not personally, but I’ve heard the name.”
“From King Welson? Did he say something about my father?” Cleve asked before he could consider the question further.
Rek fell silent and his eyes became tense. He held out a palm toward Cleve’s forehead. Suddenly it felt as if ten thousand thoughts were all trying to surface at the same time, causing his head to feel like it was being ripped open.
“What are you doing?” he yelled, grabbing hold of his temples.
Soon, the pulsing pain subsided, and Cleve found himself to be panting.
“I apologize for that. I needed to make an assessment. I don’t think we should get into this, at least not now.”
He knows something. My parents must have been involved with the King, but why wouldn’t they tell me? Curiosity pressed at Cleve, but he knew that was a barrel of worms best saved for another day. He nodded. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do.” He had no doubts anymore that Rek was on Kyrro’s side, and the King should be informed. Though, he still didn’t like the feeling of being near the powerful psychic. At least Cleve wasn’t strangely infatuated with Rek like he was with Reela. That made everything much easier.
“Welson believes I’m a threat…” Rek’s voice softened as he looked south toward the Fjallejon pathway. “If I could just convince him otherwise, I’m sure he would appreciate my help. Then, he would be thankful you didn’t kill me and probably would spare your life as well.”
“Easy, we’ll just march into his castle so you can talk to him,” Cleve said sarcastically.
Rek tilted his head, eyes at Cleve’s feet. After a moment of thought he said, “Yes. That’s what we’ll do.”
Sudden terror gripped Cleve’s heart. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” Rek began walking down the hill. “I realize you were joking, but it’s a good idea.”
The terror spread to his limbs, making him want to jump. “No, it’s a terrible idea. It’s the worst idea. Any idea would be better than that one.” Cleve chased after him. “Are you truly serious?”
“I’ll wear my hood.” Rek pulled a gray hood over his forehead, concealing his ears. “Anyone close enough to recognize me would be close enough for psyche as well.”
“What are you going to do about the hundreds of guards between us and King Welson? They’re expecting me to come back with your head. If a hooded figure is with me, they would have to assume it was you!”
Rek was frighteningly calm. “I have plenty of tricks. I just need to be close enough to them. I can start using psyche around fifty yards.” Rek pointed at Cleve with a slight grin. “Your job will be to get me within that distance safely.”
Cleve smacked the Elf’s finger away from him. “This is suicide.”
“Then think of something better.”
Silence followed and Cleve took a few breaths to gather himself. He could think only of being impaled by throwing knives or maybe even by the arrows of unskilled bowmen as soon as he and Rek entered the city.
The Elf waited patiently, running a hand through his shoulder-length hair, folding his arms, shifting his weight once or twice.
“This is ridiculous…storming the castle?” Cleve grimaced in defeat when no other ideas came to him. “This can’t be the best idea,” he stated grimly.
“It is,” Rek replied with an unnerving smile.
“I hope you have some armor for us in that cabin,” Cleve said with thick optimism.
Rek laughed from his stomach. “Now that’s ridiculous.”
Chapter 34: New Tasks
ZETI
What happened to brother to me? The question had been rattling around in Zeti’s mind for the last week. He’d left with Vithos in the morning, and by sunset Doe had announced the relocation of the encampment. No one seemed to know or care that her brother had been sent away with the Elf.
After days of asking around, Zeti came to the disappointing realization that the only way to find out more would be to ask Doe or Haemon herself.
The Slugari’s wooden fort was far too large to transport from the old camp, so construction of their new home began moments after arrival at the new location around the coast of Eastern Kilmar.
She couldn’t complain about the spot Doe and Haemon had chosen for the tribe, as a strong river flowed just five miles north, but the reason behind the move was still unclear.
Why did we move just after Zoke was sent away? Does he know where our new camp is? Zeti hated riddles and all games without rules or weapons. She was more inclined to shoot an arrow through the Slugari’s grotesque bodies than to listen to their lies, but the chance of finding even some truth was better than nothing. So she had to try.
It was a game on its own—to get information from Doe or Haemon without angering them and getting punished. Zeti knew this just as well as any Krepp, even though she’d
never spoken to either of her leaders directly.
With no door, Doe and Haemon relied heavily on Krepps acting as guards to maintain privacy until construction was completed.
When she approached, the Krepp on duty flashed his blood-stained teeth, and his thin yellow eyes widened. “A fresh suit for a new woman. Come looking for a seshar?” The light gray tone of her skin was a clear indication of her recent shedding and had been even more annoying than she’d imagined it would.
“Let Doe or Haemon know I wish to speak to them.” Zeti had to be firm. If there was a hint of interest in anything besides her current business, men took that to mean she could be wooed.
“What business do you have with them?” The guard leaned on a longsword, resting both hands on its hilt.
“Nothing I can share with you.” It was easier than the truth, or so she thought until he scowled and came toward her.
“The new woman thinks she can do anything she wants.” He grunted and then spat. “Your skin looks weeks old. I bet I could cut it with my tongue.” His mouth peeled open so his sharp tongue could dance around his lips.
Not yet a week, she dared not say aloud.
He wrongly took her silence as a cue to keep talking. “You shouldn’t be sticking your claws where they don’t belong when the smallest scratch can open you up.”
He clawed at her shoulder with a quick snap. Zeti’s reflexes took over and she ducked under his arm and kicked the sword out from under him. He fell and she sat on his back.
“My skin may be soft, but I’m not.” She held a dagger to his throat. “Toss your sword away, get up, and tell Doe or Haemon I need to speak with them.”
“Fine.” He pushed away his weapon. She stepped off him. He spat as he got up. “Any time you want to straddle me again, let me know. I’ll be face up next time.” He let his teeth show as he sucked in drool.
“I’d rather sit on a knife,” she muttered, unsure he’d heard it as he left his post.
Soon, he was back. His mouth was now without a grin, steady, as if he’d just been scolded. “Doe will see you. Leave your weapons with me.”
She handed off her dagger, and the Krepp let her pass. She could feel his eyes on her rear.
The entrance to Doe and Haemon’s new home was a mere hallway made of wooden walls with two turns, first left and then right. It opened into a room that shared a wall with a mountainside.
Zeti faced the back of the room, which had no wall yet. She first noticed she could see the ocean, and before it she saw a long beach. In front of the beach was fertile dark dirt that led back into the room. An area on the dirt already had been secluded with a fence, no doubt for the eppil plants, she figured, although none were there yet. They must have planted seeds.
The room was bare except for a rectangular table as large as her bed. There was plenty more space that she expected would be used later, but she liked the room as it was. If she had a space to herself as big, she would set up targets for archery and practice in private so she didn’t have to deal with the harassment she got whenever she visited the shooting range.
Only Doe was inside, looking at what appeared to be a map spread across half the table. She waited patiently for him to speak before taking another step.
“What is it?” he growled without turning his long body to face her.
“Will Zoke return?” She’d never spoken directly to Doe before but had seen conversations between him and others. They tended to erupt disastrously when Doe was asked complicated or continuous questions.
The massive Slugari shifted his head to glare at her. “Who are you and why do you ask?”
“Sister to him, Zeti. We shared a hut before, and I would like to see him again.”
Doe’s face turned back to the table with the map, dragging the end of his fat body along with it which noisily rubbed against the dirt. “Vithos was working against the tribe. When we sent him away, he requested that Zoke join him. So they’re both traitors. We can’t allow them to return.”
Zoke, a traitor? The accusation was such a shock that her disbelief registered on her face in a brief moment of weakness. She saw that Doe noticed her expression. He turned again, moving more of his body with his head this time.
“Do you think I lie?” His stare morphed into a scowl.
“No. It’s surprising is all.” No, surprising would be a dagger through your head while you slept. She wore a mask of indifference. The faintest sign of insubordination would lead to a punishment, she knew.
“Is that it?” Doe’s patience was already worn out.
So many questions that she couldn’t ask swirled in her mind. Zoke told me he was sent to Nor to look for Slugari. Did a trap await him? Where is he now? Does he know where we are? He’s no traitor. Could Doe really think he is, or is he just saying that for some other reason?
“Yes,” she answered in defeat. She left with more questions than when she’d entered.
Determined to find the answers, she thought of one other place to turn. However, Grayol found her on the way there.
“Zeti!” He ran to her. “Have you found out where Zoke is?”
She put a claw over his mouth to shut him up. “Quiet about that.” She looked around. No one seemed to hear. “Like I said before, I’ll tell you when I know. For now, don’t mention it. If Doe or Haemon hear of you discussing it, they won’t be happy.”
The young Krepp’s face showed fear. “I understand.”
“Good. If you want to help me, my bed was torn during transport. I can sew it, but it lost grass that needs to be stuffed back in. Would you collect some for me?”
“I can do that.” He nodded eagerly.
“I could use about ten armfuls if you can manage that.”
“Definitely!” He smiled.
“Leave it in my hut.”
“Endure,” he said, running off.
“Wait,” she called after him. He stopped so quick he nearly toppled. After regaining his footing, he sprinted back, and Zeti put her hand on his shoulder, leaning down toward his face. “Remember to ask a border guard before leaving the camp, new rules.”
“I will.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice. She understood, for the lack of freedom frustrated her as well.
“Endure.”
“Endure,” he repeated.
When he was gone, she resumed her mission. The camp was both three miles wide and long, and the Krepp she wanted to see was on the edge of the opposing side of Doe and Haemon’s home. He was Paramar, head of the Slugari search group and the Krepp who worked closest with Doe and Haemon. He wasn’t known for being talkative, but she thought she could get him to tell her what she needed. She was a tempting new woman, after all.
With easily ten thousand-plus Krepps in the encampment, she couldn’t count how many men she had to walk by to get from one side to the other. Thankfully, most just looked. That she didn’t mind. Someone stopping her for small talk wouldn’t be so bad, but it attracted others. The sight of a fresh-skinned woman talking with a man must appear as a challenge, she guessed. Or maybe walking by without taking a chance makes them feel less of a man. It certainly seemed so.
“Zeti,” someone called to her. When she turned and saw Dentar—her father’s irritable friend—walking toward her, she felt physically ill for a moment.
“Leave me,” she said as she continued on.
She expected him to grab some part of her to make her stop, perhaps her arm or belt, but to her surprise he just sped to catch up, walking alongside as he spoke. “Father to you says you haven’t found a seshar yet.” Dentar’s tone was without the normal scorn behind each word.
“How would he know when we barely speak?” Zeti was still upset that her father hadn’t offered to help her transport her belongings, even with her shedding occurring during the move.
“Is it true or not?” Dentar’s usual annoyance was beginning to come out.
“It shouldn’t matter to you either way.”
Dentar pulled a dagger fr
om his belt. At the sound of the metal singing, she stepped away and drew her own dagger. However, he held the handle of his weapon toward her with his head lowered, showing it as a gift.
“Being a weapons trader, valuable steel passes through my claws. When this dagger came through, I couldn’t let it go. It reminded me too much of you.” His sweet tone was that of a child begging for a treat. It caused the sickness to rise higher in her stomach. The dagger he presented was unsullied. Its steel glistened, calling to be dirtied by blood.
“That’s quite a pretty blade,” she said. “But I don’t like pretty. Perhaps if you shoved it up your ass first.”
He stood tall and pointed the weapon at her. A slew of raunchy curses flooded from his mouth along with gobs of spit.
“There’s the Dentar I know,” she said, walking away without a look back.
Paramar’s hut looked like everyone else’s, except for the red flag dancing atop it. Red for chief. That’s the one. A small percentage of tribal tasks were done by groups instead of individuals, and each group had a chief. Being the head of the Slugari search team, Paramar was the most important chief to Doe and Haemon, therefore the most important Krepp.
He was leaving his hut as Zeti got close. With sword in hand, he either didn’t notice her or pretended not to.
“Paramar,” she called, but he didn’t face her. “Can we talk?”
Instead of her face, he looked at her belt for a breath. Finding only her dagger, he offered his sword. “Here.”
Confused, she took it. If a chief wants you to do something, you do it, Zoke had told her.
Paramar went back into his hut and came out with another sword. “You can talk, and I may listen, but we spar during it.”
