Night Calls the Raven (Book 2 of The Master of the Tane)

by Thomas Rath

  Now she was resting quietly, worn out from her earlier exertions. The mush might not have kept her totally free of the wrenching withdrawals she was suffering through, but it had put color and meat back on her body. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and then traced his fingers down her cheek and along her arm to her hand. Before he knew what he was doing, he felt his fingers wrap around hers and stay there. Though her hands were rough and calloused from the ordeal she’d been through, he couldn’t think of feeling anything more pleasant in his life. Looking at her hand in his own he was surprised that it felt so natural there, surprised that he had even taken her hand at all and that he was not repulsed by it.

  Looking at her face he was shocked by what he saw. It was beauty. He’d never seen it before; he’d never really taken the time to look. But it was there and he could no longer deny it. Tam was beautiful. Even after all that she had been through, and maybe partially because of what she’d been through, Dor could not deny how beautiful she was to him. He looked at her lips and suddenly felt a strange desire to touch them with his own. He hesitated but then gave into the urge knowing that no one would ever know. He would do it quickly.

  Slowly moving his face forward he gently pressed his lips against hers. She moaned slightly causing him to jerk away and almost topple over in his chair. Regaining his balance he looked back at her, fearful that she had awakened and knew what he had done. Suddenly, he felt foolish and embarrassed. “Tam…” he stammered but was cut off.

  Her voice was soft and musical to his ears. “That was nice,” she whispered and Dor felt his heart quickly rise in his chest before instantly being crushed as she ended with, “Thane.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Thane woke late in the afternoon only to find his clothes gone and his wounds cleaned and bandaged. The smell of fresh baked bread and steamed vegetables tempted his nose and worked on his empty stomach that roared loudly in protest for being neglected. Grabbing for a piece of bread he jumped slightly as Jne materialized out of a dark corner at the other end of his tent. “I will pour you something to drink.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Jne raised an eyebrow and swallowed hard, choking down the harsh reply that would have been her nature to give. But she was Jinghar and would fulfill her debt with honor. Grabbing a glass and a pitcher from the nearby table she poured as she approached him, presenting him with the drink before answering. “This is my dwelling.”

  He grabbed the glass and stared dumbly at her now standing as if at attention. “Your tent?”

  “Yes,” she answered flatly.

  “But all this time…” he started but was cut off.

  “Yes, all this time you have stayed in my tent while I have slept outside. It is our way—your way. I brought you in. Your life became my responsibility.”

  “Until your first opportunity to kill me.”

  “You look healthy enough to me,” was all she said before setting the pitcher on the table and returning to stand by his bed.

  Thane rubbed the back of his neck. His arms and legs were sore and he still felt tired, but after all that he had been through he figured he couldn’t complain much. “What is this stuff?” he asked, swirling the opaque liquid around in his glass. He sniffed it but his Tane sounded no warning.

  “It is vokna. Drink it. It will give you strength.”

  He put the glass to his lips, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. She would not try to poison him would she? What about her honor? But this was Tjal honor he was dealing with. Maybe it was honorable to poison someone to be released from blood debt; he still wasn’t quite sure what that meant either.

  Sighing, Jne put out her hand. “I will drink first if it would make you feel better.”

  He shook his head. “No, that’s all right. I’ll drink it.” He lifted the glass and poured the liquid into his mouth. After all, if it were poison, his Tane would have warned him. There was no reason to fear. The liquid was sweet, almost too sweet for his liking, but was cool and felt good against his dry throat. Soon he felt his limbs warming and the aches in his arms and legs started to dissipate. “Not bad,” he said before swallowing the rest. “It’s a little sweet, but you were right. I do feel much stronger. What’s in it?”

  “It is a mixture of strained horse manure, saliva, and water. The old ladies make it.”

  He suddenly felt his stomach turn.

  “I will give you more,” she continued, grabbing the pitcher from the table.

  “No,” he cried, pulling his glass away. “I think that I will just have some water.”

  Jne shrugged. “As you wish,” she said grabbing his glass and dipped it into a bucket under the table.

  He accepted it gladly and quickly drained it before shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. Jne seemed indifferent to the whole scene, grabbing his glass and refilling it with more water before returning it to him. He chewed and swallowed the bread and ate a few carrots before the aftertaste of vokna was finally dulled in his mouth enough to calm his stomach. He expected Jne to make some kind of comment about him being weak or chide his behavior but she merely refilled his glass and returned as if waiting for him to do or say something more.

  He regarded her for a moment. Something was different. “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, I like it, but why are you being so nice?”

  “I am Jinghar. And you are Tjal. Were your people not nice to each other?”

  “Yes,” he answered quickly. “That is, for the most part. But you have never been nice to me before. In fact, I always thought you hated me.”

  Jne’s face softened for a brief moment. “You were Renja then. I had no commitment to you. Now you are Tjal. We are equal. Save, of course, that I am Jinghar.” Her eyes dropped and her voice softened. “I also knew all along that it would fall on me to test you at steel. I did not want to hold back or shame you by becoming close to you.”

  He stared at her. She was such a dichotomy. “Oh,” was all he said.

  “Now, I have a question for you,” she said, returning to her rigid self. “What happened to your ears?”

  Thane stared at her for a moment while reaching a hand up and touching the point at the top of his right ear as it poked out through his long black hair. He hesitated. All this time they had seen his ears but not said anything about them or done anything to even call attention to them. He sighed. He couldn’t hide who he was now. “I am Chufa,” he said simply.

  Jne repeated him, her tone reflecting a question. “Chufa?”

  He shrugged. “Yes, Chufa. That is who, or what I am. We are an ancient and lost race. We live far away from here.”

  “Then why have you come?”

  Years of pain and rejection suddenly flooded in on him bearing down on him with its tremendous weight. His memory had fully returned, and with it came the pain of his life and the loneliness he had felt for so long. He had not come by choice, but had been forced out. He was an outcast. But the memories of his battle with the dragon were also fresh in his mind; the memories of self-awareness and acceptance of who and what he was. Recognition of his gifts and embracing what that meant for him. He was an outcast, but he knew he had worth. He might live out the rest of his days alone but he would not allow himself to be ruled by self-doubt and loathing. No longer would others determine his value. He was Thane of the Five Tane.

  Suddenly, the pitiful memory of Tam popped into his mind making him catch his breath. “I have to go,” he whispered.

  “Back to your former people?” Jne asked simply.

  He looked at her as if forgetting she had been in the room with him all along. “No. I have to help a friend.” He started to rise but quickly remembered that the only thing he had on was a blanket. “I need my clothes.”

  Jne walked to one of the chest of drawers by the far wall and started pulling out clothes. “I will pack for us. We can leave within an hour if you desire.”

  He stopped her. “Wait, wait. I am going alone. You have nothi
ng to do with this.”

  Jne did not even slow in her packing as she answered. “I am Jinghar. I will go wherever you go, Renja of the Chufa. I will repay my debt.”

  He shook his head. “No. That’s not necessary.” Lifting his hand he waved it around in the air. “I release you from your debt and service. You are free. You are no longer Jinghar. There.”

  Jne threw some clothes at him, completely ignoring what he’d just said. “Here, put your clothes on. You will shame yourself walking around like that.”

  He looked at the baggy black pants and black shirt that had landed in his lap; the typical garb of a Tjal male. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? You can’t come.”

  She turned on him, her deep blue eyes ignited with fire. “You will not shame me, Renja of the Chufa,” she spat. “I will honor my debt and will leave only after it is fully paid. No matter where you go or what you do, I will be at your side until honor no longer requires it.”

  Thane sighed. “What is it that your honor requires? I mean, can’t we just come to an agreement. How about if I come back when I am done with what I have to do?”

  Jne didn’t answer. She just turned her back and continued to fill a backpack with clothes.

  He was desperate. She had no reason to go running into a valley full of trolls and goblins to find a girl she’d never even met. It was not right that she be dragged into it all just because of his dead blind luck at besting her at steel. Maybe he could leave her behind without her knowing.

  As if reading his mind, her cool voice broke through the rustle of clothes she stuffed in her sack. “And don’t even think of trying to leave me without my knowing or slipping away at night. I will track you down if you do and you will pay for the dishonor you cause.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again. She was tenacious. He had argued with her before and had yet to gain the upper hand. He knew it was useless to try now. “You don’t even know where I am going or what I am to do.”

  She turned to him, her pack full. “It does not matter. When my debt is paid, then I will return, not before.”

  “But it’s going to be dangerous. Maybe suicidal.”

  She smiled, but not a smile of happiness or joy. It was the smile of an animal just before it made its kill. “Good,” she hissed. “Then my debt will be paid quickly and my honor returned.”

  Thane shook his head. He was not to be rid of this woman no matter what he said or tried. “Do you at least want to know where it is I go?”

  Jne shrugged. “You may tell me if it makes you more content. I assume we will return to the other side of the mountains where the trolls and goblins gather.”

  His jaw dropped. “How did you know that?”

  “It is where I found you.”

  “But…” he stopped. “Why were you on the other side of the mountains?”

  Jne’s expression quickly changed to one of repressed sorrow and her face turned ashen. “I too searched for someone.”

  “Who?”

  She hesitated for a brief moment and then took a deep breath. “My sister,” she answered, regaining control, her voice and demeanor becoming hard and determined once again. “If that is where you truly go, then I welcome the opportunity. Maybe I will then find my sister who was taken.”

  “Taken?”

  “Yes. A pack of goblins took her at night when she slept. That she was caught at all is a mystery, though she left seven dead in her tent. I was searching for her when I found you.”

  “But why didn’t you leave me and go after her instead?”

  Jne’s voice had become flat. “I lost her trail the previous day in the rain. You were alive. I could not be certain of the same with my sister.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  Jne shrugged. “I am not. You will be a good Tjal, Renja of the Chufa.”

  Thane laughed bitterly at the irony of the name. As she called him, he was an outsider to his people. “My name is Thane.”

  Jne raised an eyebrow and regarded him. “Was that your Chufa name?”

  He nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  She shrugged. “You are Tjal now. Your name is, Renja. As I said, you will be a good Tjal but I can see now that fate has made me Jinghar to you so that I may teach you well what it means to be one of us. You have much to learn before you gain your honor.”

  Thane didn’t argue. It was like yelling at a mountain to try and sway Jne from anything that she had already decided. He still didn’t like the idea of her coming but at the same time welcomed the company no matter how odd it was.

  Slipping the black pants beneath his blanket, he quickly pulled them on and then did the same with the shirt. The pants were loose just like any Tjal man’s and the shirt tight around his chest. He found that the swords she’d given him the previous week fit more comfortably against his back without his shirt bunching up beneath them as they had with his other clothes. She tossed him a long piece of black cloth to wrap his head but instead he ripped off a smaller square piece and folded it in half before wrapping it around his forehead and tying it in the back.

  “Until I gain my honor,” he said, hoping that she would accept his explanation. He really hated having all of that cloth on top of his head—especially in the heat.

  To his relief, she smiled, her face lighting up in exquisite beauty. “You are learning quickly, Renja.”

  Just then Kardosh burst into her tent. “Come quickly,” was all he said before turning about and exiting again.

  Jne ran to the tent flap followed by Thane, who was tucking a dagger in Tjal fashion into his pants behind his back. Outside, the sun was beginning to descend to the west and cast its long shadows around the camp. Thane’s horse stood by the tent as if guarding it against any enemies and neighed his greeting as he exited. He rubbed a quick hand over his nose to say hello before darting after Jne who was dodging between tents and heading deeper into the Tjal village chasing after Kardosh.

  He caught up to them just as they reached the fire circle where the whole Tja seemed to have gathered. He was shocked to see many smiles turned in his direction or an outstretched hand reaching for him in greeting. Only a day before he was shunned and ignored by any but Jne and Kardosh who only spoke to him when absolutely necessary. He suddenly felt warm inside, a sense of growing love and respect for these people who now accepted him as their own. Never in his life had he been part of any group. Never had he felt that others cared for him except for Dor and his mother. He clasped an old Tjal woman’s calloused hand and smiled back at her. Maybe he had found a home here after all.

  He turned and followed after Jne as she forced her way through the crowd toward the major commotion that was focused in the center. Everyone seemed to be talking at once and he quickly realized that he couldn’t understand anything they were saying. Before they had always used common around him but now that he was considered one of them, they no longer seemed to feel the need to talk so he could understand.

  Jne suddenly stopped. She had reached the center and was now face to face with a woman that shared her deep, clear blue eyes but whose hair was closer to black. Both women regarded each other for a brief moment before Jne spoke. Her voice was low and barely audible above the noise of the crowd. “Danah, j’uban’athe ikdar t’oban’nua. Losh j’udar t’ele jafna j’oban’jinghar.”

  The other woman’s face darkened and she glanced briefly at Thane before looking back at Jne and answering. Her voice was cold and sharp. “T’uban’sike,” was all she said and then quickly turned her back and moved away.

  Thane felt a cold chill, a premonition of sorts, emanate from the woman. He didn’t like her. It was not like him to pass judgment so easily on someone, especially a person he didn’t know, but he felt a darkness about her that spoke of death and destruction. He was glad she had turned and was moving away from them. He felt that the more distance that stretched between them the better.

  Jne came toward him, her face down, as she pushed back through the remainin
g crowd that was following after the other woman. “That was my sister,” she said, her voice hard, but spoken just above a whisper.

  Thane was surprised, but quickly saw the resemblance. “The one taken by goblins?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  Jne just shrugged looking back over her shoulder at the woman as she continued to put distance between them. “I do not know, but I am glad she is returned and well. Although…” She stopped, letting her voice and her thought fade away.

  “What?” he prodded.

  Jne’s deep blue eyes stared into his, her expression almost childlike. “I don’t know. She is not the same.”

  “What did you say to each other?”

  She let her eyes drop to the ground. “I told her that I was glad she was well and that I could not embrace her because I am Jinghar.”

  He sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do, but still feeling responsible. Her being Jinghar was ending up being more punishment for him then it was for her. “And what did she say?”

  Jne took a deep breath, her body suddenly tense. Looking back into his eyes, they were hard and determined. “She said that I was weak.” Her voice was flint but strained, fighting to hold back the emotion that he knew was raging inside her. Though tough as steel and as sharp as a blade on the exterior, he knew that inside Jne was feeling the sorrows and regret of a tortured soul, not unlike how he had once felt living as an outcast amongst his own. “We must go,” she said suddenly and brushed past him on her way back to the tent.

  He paused for only a moment, looking once more at the fading figure that was Jne’s sister, still feeling the trepidation deep in his chest. Besides her physical resemblance to Jne, she almost seemed familiar to him but in a different manner he could not quite place. One thing was for certain, he would be glad to leave her behind and even happier to be on his way to rescue Tam.

  By nightfall Jne had their supplies packed and both horses ready for their journey. She had pressed him to leave that night and not wait until morning giving a weak excuse that it would not be so hot and they could cover more ground, but he knew that she welcomed the opportunity to hide her shame as a Jinghar from her newly returned sister. He tried to find out more about her when they returned to the tent but Jne was not willing to talk, claiming that she didn’t have the time now to talk niceties while there was work and preparations to be done. He hadn’t pressed knowing her sister's cutting words must still be fresh. What should have been a joyous reunion had been dulled by her situation, thanks to him, and he knew that to try and talk about it now would only make things worse. They had a long road ahead and she had plenty of time to answer his questions.