The Last Mayor's Son

by Leslie E Heath

  ~*~

  Late one morning, about a month after the first visitors arrived, Aibek again walked alone beneath the village. His official duty was checking the fortifications that the villagers had added to the area around the treetop town, but it had also become his favorite way to clear his mind. The sounds and smells of the forest calmed his spirit like nothing he’d ever known. As the homes above had filled with visitors, he’d found it harder and harder to find time alone. He chuckled to himself as he remembered his concern when the first small group had arrived. Every day after that, more visitors had come. Some groups had been small, with only two or three individuals making the trip; others were substantial. One village sent nearly a hundred and fifty fierce-looking men and women.

  Two weeks after the arrival of the first visitors, Valasa had taken the floor in their daily council meeting to announce that everyone who was expected had arrived. All totaled, they had received five hundred, seventy-one individuals from thirty-two villages. Nivaka was nearly overflowing with the unexpectedly large number of guests, a fact that both satisfied and concerned Aibek. The surprisingly large response was straining the village’s resources. The fairies, no longer needed to coordinate with travelers, had been tasked with helping the local cooks keep up with the enormously increased demand for food, and the warriors went out in hunting parties to provide enough meat for so many hungry individuals.

  Aibek stopped and waved to a hunting party returning with a large deer strung on a staff between them, then smiled to himself once again.

  As the remainder of the leaves had fallen, the newly-formed Nivakan Army trained, fortified the town, and got to know one another. Within a couple of weeks, an outsider wouldn’t have been able to guess which were the Nivakans and which had come to help. As Aibek watched, the warriors had melded seamlessly into a cohesive force.

  As the days had passed, so had his frustration with Tamyr and the situation surrounding Alija’s attack. Once the guards had begun keeping records, the secretive visitors had stopped coming to see the woman. Her only visitors now consisted of the council members, Valasa, and a few women who tried to get the woman to talk. Ahren spent a great deal of time there but swore the woman wouldn’t talk to her, either. Aibek hadn’t found any more clues about the attack. Maybe he’d been wrong, and Tamyr had been the one who’d stabbed Alija. Still, Aibek had tried to find another solution for keeping the woman monitored.

  He’d insisted on keeping a constant guard on her, but the men were growing tired of spending their time making sure a small washwoman didn’t escape. Aibek had spoken with the woman’s family on several occasions. They wouldn’t take responsibility for her. He couldn’t free her, so he’d had her moved into a slightly larger room with a bed and more space so she could move around. They’d reinforced the window so she couldn’t use it as an escape route. Still, Aibek worried.

  What’ll happen to the girl when the battle starts? Will she take the opportunity to turn on us and fight with the enemy?

  He kicked a stone down the path and turned to examine a spiked collar that had been fixed to a large oak tree just beyond the village borders. He tested its strength, pulling downward and away with all his strength. It didn’t budge. The cured sap held it firmly to the tree trunk. The blacksmiths had made two types of collars: large, heavily armored devices fitted with wicked spikes like the one he had just tested, and smaller, lighter collars that would break loose, dropping enemy soldiers onto large spikes driven into the ground below. Both types were attached to the shadow trees with varying amounts cured sap, so there was little chance the trees would be damaged.

  Aibek looked up, gazing through the barren tree branches at the exposed boardwalk above. Spikes the size of his forearm lined the top rail, with small nails covering the wood beneath the railing. The combination would make climbing over the rail difficult and dangerous. As he watched, a group of archers peered over the side, shouting that they were about to begin practice for the day. His time on the ground was over. Aibek sighed and made his way to the West Entrance, only a short walk to his left.

  21

  Visitors

  Throughout the preparations, planning, and training, Aibek spent time every day with the spirits of his parents. Some days Faruz came, and those visits were always filled with laughter and boisterous energy, while other days it was just Aibek and one or both of his parents. On one of these nights, Aibek was talking with his father about the challenges of leading a village overrun with visitors and his fears about the upcoming battle.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” he told his father’s ghost. “I’m terrified that I’m leading these people into a massacre, like what happened before, only worse.”

  “You’re doing just fine,” Eddrick replied, “you’ve done very well. Keep listening to the will of the people, and lead them in the direction they choose. Fight alongside them, and you can’t go wrong.”

  Aibek shook his head, then lowered it to the table. “There’s just so much we still don’t know. We don’t know how many are coming, or when. What if they show up tomorrow?”

  “Then you’ll engage them tomorrow. I’ve been watching your men train; they’ve come a long way, and I think they’re nearly ready for battle.”

  Aibek looked up at his father. “It won’t matter how ready we are if we’re outmanned or caught by surprise…” He trailed off as an idea occurred to him. “Can you help? Can you find their camp and tell me how many are coming… and maybe when they’ll arrive?”

  The ghost answered slowly. “That’s a brilliant idea, but I’m not sure if it’s allowed. I’ll have to ask my father or one of the ancestors.”

  Aibek raised his eyebrows. “You have rules? What can they possibly do if you break them? You’re already dead.”

  The ghost laughed. “Yes, we have rules. We can’t interfere in the lives of the living. We must let them make their own mistakes. We can only answer a direct question. They can’t kill me again, but their punishments are worse, in some ways.” He shuddered. “I’ll ask the ancestors, and if it’s allowed, I’ll find out everything I can about your enemy.”

  Following this discussion, they chatted for a few more minutes; then an exhausted Aibek dragged himself to bed.

  ~*~

  Later that night, while their son was dreaming, Eddrick and Kiri met with Agommi in their room to ask about the rules. They both wanted to help Nivaka and seek out the enemy, but neither wanted to risk another lengthy confinement, especially with the battle looming.

  “I don’t know what the rules are on this,” the oldest spirit began. “You were asked a direct question, and would only be rendering aid that was requested. That said, it is a critical task and could turn the tide of the battle. I will have to confer with the ancestors.”

  Before the others could respond, the old man was gone. He didn’t bother using the door this time—he just vanished off the sofa.

  Eddrick and Kiri looked at each other, shrugged, and went on with their evening as if Agommi had never been there. They weren’t willing to proceed without the permission of the ancestors, so they would wait it out.

  ~*~

  The next morning, the council met as usual to discuss the progress of the army and any issues that had arisen. They had almost finished with the business of the day when Faruz entered and asked to be allowed to speak.

  At Aibek’s nod, he began, “I know you’ve all seen how hard the villagers have been working. I don’t think we should stop training, but I’d say our army is ready for battle.”

  Kai cocked his head to the side. “I know they’ve worked hard, and we’ve seen some amazing improvements, but what makes you say they’re ‘ready’?”

  Faruz stepped farther into the room and stood in the middle of the circle. “While you were meeting, we held a large-scale practice battle. We divided everyone into two equal teams and fought with sticks and blunt arrows. It lasted over an hour, and ended in a draw.” He grinned broadly. “I watched each side closely for w
eaknesses, but I saw none; everyone fought as if their lives depended on it. I would have let them go longer, but they fought so fiercely I was afraid someone could be injured. I am as confident as I can possibly be—they are ready.”

  Zifa looked up at the captain and smiled. “I trust your judgment. You’ve spent every waking minute working with this army making sure every move is perfect. If you say they’re ready, then they are. We should celebrate.”

  She turned to smile at each of her friends. Everyone knew she loved a party.

  “Does this mean we’re done training?” Wayra asked.

  Faruz shook his head. “Not at all. As I’ve said before, no warrior should ever stop learning and improving. It just means we’re sure we can face our opponents. Honestly, I do think they’re ready, but they still lack confidence.” He sat next to Zifa on the couch. “A celebration sounds perfect. It would show them we believe in them.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll have a feast,” Alija replied. “Our warriors should never doubt the council’s support.”

  “Should we vote on it?” Aibek asked the group.

  The council members looked around at each other for a minute before Zifa nodded. “Yes, let’s have a vote.”

  It was unanimous. They decided on a day one week away, then concluded their meeting. The council members filed out of their meeting room, talking and laughing down the hall.

  ~*~

  The news spread through the village like wildfire. The excitement was palpable, and all the villagers and visitors began making plans for the event. Some secured dates for the evening, but most planned to simply enjoy the festivities. Most of the visitors hadn’t been allowed to host a large celebration since the Helak’s troops had invaded the Tsari twenty years earlier.

  The week passed in a blur as everyone continued to train and prepare for the upcoming feast. Some of the women sent messengers to Kainga for new ribbon or lace, and the men planned to dress in their finery for the special event. A large group went to the lake the day before the celebration to gather enough fish for everyone, and another group hunted for big game. The cooks worked feverishly through the night to prepare the quantities of food required for such a large number of warriors.

  Finally, the day of the feast arrived. Faruz had announced a training holiday, and every citizen of Nivaka primped and preened and got ready for the party. The mayor’s home, like every other house in the village, was in chaos as everyone vied for the attention of the servants. Aibek, Faruz, and Serik helped each other as they had done back in Xona for so many events. Faruz had spent a great deal of time learning the steps to the popular dances and hoped to make a better impression this evening than he had at Wayra’s wedding.

  “Do you think she’ll dance with me again? I really want to show her how much I’ve learned.”

  Aibek glanced at his friend as he tightened the knot of the broad neckcloth he’d ordered from Kainga. It was very similar to the neckcloths he’d worn as part of his uniform in Xona, and Aibek thought it looked formal and official. “Which ‘she’ are you referring to?”

  Faruz discarded yet another shirt and put on a deep blue one. “You know I mean Zifa. I can’t wait to show her I’ve learned all the dances. Do you think she’ll dance with me?”

  His best friend laughed. He had never seen Faruz this besotted with any girl. “I’m sure she will. She was awfully quick to suggest the party.”

  They laughed and joked as they finished getting ready for the celebration, then left the house along with all their houseguests. They walked down the boardwalk in a loud, boisterous group, and then scattered when they reached the Pavilion.

  Within a few seconds, Aibek found himself alone with Faruz at the edge of the party. He took a deep breath, looked at his friend, then stepped into the celebrating crowd. The fairies had strung lamps along the beams as before, but this time they continued for nearly a hundred yards down the boardwalk in every direction. Revelers were walking and dancing along the boardwalks, while others strolled in the lamplight engaged in private conversations.

  Inside the Pavilion, people were packed shoulder to shoulder. Some danced, while others strolled around with plates piled high with food, and still more pulled chairs up to small tables to eat. The men had arranged larger tables with chairs around the outer perimeter of the space, and parents sat there with their families, encouraging their young children to eat. Many of the children stared wide-eyed at the activity around them and showed no interest in their meals. Aibek stopped for a minute and smiled encouragement to a mother who was struggling to control four small children who were dancing and giggling instead of eating, then proceeded farther into the heart of the celebration.

  ~*~

  As Faruz expected, buffet tables overflowing with food filled the dais. The fish was featured prominently on the front table and surrounded by roasted elk and other large game meats. Nearby, root vegetables and autumn squash dishes were displayed in a colorful array. Flanking the meats and vegetables were tables filled with luxurious deserts. His stomach grumbled, and he was glad the music was loud enough to drown out the sound.

  Faruz made straight for the buffet line, with Aibek trailing close behind. Neither man had eaten anything since breakfast. Aibek had been too busy dealing with a minor dispute during lunchtime, but Faruz had been too nervous to eat. He’d been unable to think of anything but showing Zifa his new dancing skills.

  His hands shook as he picked up a wooden plate, and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself before heaping food onto it.

  It would be awful to start the night by spilling food on myself, he thought.

  He made his way to an open bench on the boardwalk where could eat without being jostled by dancers. Aibek did an extraordinary job of staying close, even though revelers dogged his steps, congratulating the mayor and the captain on the work they had done to prepare the village for battle. Each time, both smiled and thanked the speakers, then dodged away to avoid getting pulled deeper into a conversation.

  They ate in silence, Faruz focused solely on filling his empty belly. He finally looked up when Dalan and Wayra walked over. Their friends joined them on the bench.

  “What do we do now?” Dalan said.

  Faruz gulped as the last bite of fish caught in his throat.

  Is it time to dance already? Where’s Zifa?

  He craned his neck, searching the crowd for the raven-haired beauty.

  Wayra laughed. “I think I saw Zyana with Zifa and Ahren at the dessert table, so we should have a little time before they drag us onto the dance floor.”

  Faruz laughed along, though it sounded a bit too loud to his own ears. The butterflies in his stomach had transformed into a violent churning, and he took another sip of wine to ward off the impending nausea.

  Aibek gave a cheerful nod. “Good! Let them enjoy the sweets. I haven’t seen much of you lately, at least not outside of our meetings. How’s everything going? I hated to fill your house with travelers so soon after your marriage, but I didn’t have anywhere else to put them!”

  Wayra smiled. “I appreciate that. I know you held off as long as you could. I’m trying to convince Zyana to evacuate with the others next week.” He dropped his eyes to the table and added, “She just told me yesterday she’s with child. I’m going to be a father.”

  The announcement hit Faruz like a club. How would he keep his friend safe during the battle? His new wife shouldn’t have to raise their child alone. Though there was no way to make sure every deserving father survived the battle, Faruz felt as if he’d taken a punch to the gut. He felt responsible for this man, as well as all the others. Each one had a family—someone who was counting on him to survive. They were fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. He had to do everything in his power to make sure they could defeat the enemy army.

  Aibek and Dalan slapped Wayra on the back and shouted their congratulations, while Faruz sat stunned by the sudden realization of the scope of his responsibility.

  His friends
laughed and joked while Faruz looked from face to face, wondering if these men would still be alive next week, or next month… or whenever the assault came.

  Before much time had passed, a group of ladies approached, looking for dance partners. Faruz immediately offered to partner with Zifa and quickly spun her onto the dance floor, relieved to escape the prison of his melancholy thoughts.

  ~*~

  Aibek wasn’t sure who he should ask to dance, and so was relieved when Ahren grabbed his arm and led him into the throng. He didn’t look back to see who his other friends chose for partners, but instead focused on the spritely young woman in his arms. He still didn’t quite trust the girl, but he’d set that aside for the night.

  He danced the steps as if he had known them all his life, easily keeping up with the fast rhythm of the song. Ahren smiled and led him farther into the heart of the party. They danced and laughed until they were both out of breath, then retreated to the boardwalk for some fresh air and rest.

  “That was great!” Ahren smiled up at her companion. “You’ve been practicing.”

  “Yes, I had Serik teach me,” Aibek replied sheepishly, then pointed to his friend in the Pavilion. “Faruz has been working on his dancing, too.”

  They both laughed as they watched their friends dancing feverishly along with everyone else on the floor in a fast, complicated routine.

  “He’s doing great.” Ahren clapped along with the beat. “This one is Zifa’s favorite.”

  “Then I’m glad he practiced it.” Aibek gave her a slight smile. “He was really hoping to get to dance with her tonight. I think he was a bit embarrassed the night of the wedding.” He led her to a bench under a string of lights.