Keepers of the Ancient Wisdom (Kalie's Journey Book 3)

by Sandra Saidak

  “Where’s Noris?” she asked Varena, who came to sit beside her.

  “Getting the boat hidden in the scrub at the shore,” Varena said neutrally. “He’s agreed to stay, and he works very hard on the farm, but says he’ll sleep better knowing we have an escape route that the horses can’t follow.”

  “He’s very wise to do that,” said Kalie. After a moment’s silence she asked, “How are the two of you doing?”

  Varena’s smile told her mother what she thought of the physical side of the partnership. “Actually all of it’s good,” she said. “As long as we don’t talk about the coming war.”

  “Which I’m sure is rather difficult.”

  Varena sighed, but then smiled again. “We manage. I keep telling myself that this time next year, I will be trading the flax we’re growing for all sorts of good things, and eating the last of our stored vegetables, while watching the new ones come up in the fields. And perhaps anticipating the birth of our first child.” At Kalie’s look of concern she added, “Next year! Not now. I drink the special tea every day.”

  Janak approached with an old man who had recently arrived from one of the small villages to the north. “Omel here has an idea of where we might place the dam. It’s over half a day’s walk, so we’ll leave tomorrow at first light to see it. Would you care to join us, Kalie?”

  She patted Melora’s back until she burped. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Water pounded down from a rocky hillside in a cascade that made hearing anyone difficult. Then it flowed down a gentler slope, breaking off into channels through a land too rocky for farming. The main channel flowed uninterrupted to Stonebridge, and then beyond to the Black Sea.

  “There are certainly enough rocks to build this thing!” Alessa shouted.

  “Lumber, too!” Janak called, pointing to a small stand of trees, digging into the soil between rocks.

  “Why do we need lumber?” Kalie asked, keeping Melora occupied by swinging her through the spray that rose like a fine mist over the lower channel.

  Janak nodded downstream, and the group followed him to where conversation was possible. “We’ll want to be able to breech this dam quickly when the time comes. The simplest way to do that would be to use logs to bolster some of the larger rocks. We set the logs across flat rocks. When we’re ready, two or three people will put their weight on the section of log that sticks out past the rock it rests on.” With his hand, Janak demonstrated the other half of the log lifting as the first half lowered.

  It took a while, but most of those gathered understood that using the logs as levers would pry enough rocks away to create a slide.

  “And then the pressure from the captive water will do the rest,” Kalie said, impressed.

  “Sahrene would have loved this,” Alessa said wistfully.

  It took Kalie a moment to remember the skilled crafter who understood the earth so well, and had once devised ingenious ways to bring water to dry lands, using ditches and even gates to control the flow. Sahrene had been one of the first to die after they reached the grasslands three years ago.

  They spent the night in the nearest village, still over an hour’s walk from the falls. It was a good opportunity to scout the land, as they always did now, seeking routes the horsemen might use, and ways they could be blocked. At the village, they saw defenses being prepared: a ditch dug in a circle enclosing the houses, with sharpened sticks at the bottom, pointing up.

  “We plan to cover it with sections of grass cut from the meadow,” said the headman, pointing to the currently waterlogged stretch of green. “That way, the horses will fall through as they ride and land—“ He shook his head unable to continue. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when we worked at ways to kill our fellow humans.”

  Kalie left that one to Alessa, and went to settle Melora for the night.

  They left the next morning, after a short survey and a long discussion brought agreement that the village’s water supply would not be harmed, and thus the dam could now be built.

  “I hope there will be news when we get back,” Alessa said. “Even if it’s what we’ve been dreading, it will mean we can finally do something besides prepare.”

  Kalie wanted to warn her friend to be careful what she wished for, but in her heart, she agreed with Alessa. Riyik and some of the others had left the same time as Kalie’s group, to ride through the lands to the east, helping with preparation, gathering intelligence, and, most dangerous of all, trying to determine exactly where the horde was now, when they would reach the first settlements, and what could be done to lead them to a place of the defenders’ choosing for what they hoped would be the final battle.

  “We should have settled somewhere farther east,” Kalie said. “Riyik and I. Stonebridge is so far west, the war could be over before they reach us!”

  “Only if we’re lucky,” said Alessa.

  “And if we’re not, thousands will die and the land left in ruins before they get here. If they get here at all!”

  “You chose the right place, Kalie,” said Kariik, striding up to walk beside the two women. “We already know that Stonebridge is the right place for the real battle. All the rest will be skirmishes and ambush.”

  “During which many will die,” Alessa said.

  “Unfortunately true,” said Alrik, who always seemed to be wherever Kariik was. “But if enough goes according to plan, our enemy’s forces will be greatly reduced. They will be exhausted and afraid. The strangeness of the forests alone may do much to sap their will to fight.”

  “So why come this far at all?” asked Janak. “That’s what I don’t understand. The villages to the east will be easier targets. Once they’ve burned them to the ground and taken what slaves they can, won’t they just pitch their tents and settle?”

  Alrik was about to answer, but Kalie spoke first. “Not enough grass there for the horses and flocks. What they need is north, along the Black Sea, and in the fields around Stonebridge and the large farming villages close by. Not to mention more water than they’ve ever seen in their lives.” She looked at the river, beside them, low in its banks as they drew closer to home.

  “But more important than any of that,” Alrik said, “is what’s here in Stonebridge.” They had gone up a low hill, and in the distance, could just see the town, crowning a much higher hill. “It’s the promise of wealth that makes men like this leave everything behind and travel through land that feels cursed by evil spirits. Their king will want more than a place to pitch his tent.”

  Kariik nodded. “Gold, finery, metal tools and weapons. Food stores meant to last years will provide feasts for many nights. And of course, slaves.” He looked ashamed for a moment, then straightened and met the gaze of each of his companions. Including the women.

  “But there are many places with all of that in this part of the world!” said Janak.

  Again, Kariik nodded. “So our real job will be to convince this king that the place he wants to lead his horde is Stonebridge. And he must believe that it was his idea.” He grinned at Alessa, who blushed slightly at the memory of how much of that she had done to Kariik. “Honored wife, do you have any sisters we might send to Varlas?”

  Chapter 25

  Kalie kept busy over the next few days, practicing with her bow and helping to come up with ideas for bringing the horde to Stonebridge—and defeating them once they got here. Everyone was aware that it would take more than horse-killers and a well-timed flood to accomplish that.

  Yet they continued to make the deadly bone stars, dig ditches to be filled with sharpened sticks, build their dam and store food for a possible siege. Most important of all, Kalie thought as she approached the busy forge, were the new arrows.

  Janak had more than just Garm to help him now, as skilled refugees arrived in Stonebridge from villages that would have no chance against the horde. Places which lacked forest cover for ambushes, or the manpower—or willingness— to mount an effective resistance. At least a dozen men and women,
plus a few young apprentices, labored to create knives, spearheads and arrow tips of copper.

  “But not pure copper,” Janak was explaining as he demonstrated. “Copper is too soft. Strangely, it’s the impurities that make the metal strong enough to hold a point that will punch through leather armor, or an edge that will break a flint blade.”

  “What kind of impurities?” asked a woman who had left her own forge and brought her family here just days ago.

  Janak nodded to Garm to answer. “More than one type will work,” said the young former nomad. “The best is a kind of weak, gray metal that can sometimes be found by the copper.”

  “Soft plus weak equals strong?” asked a man. Everyone laughed.

  “We discovered it by accident,” said Janak.

  “Like most important discoveries,” said an old woman.

  “There’s also something in the copper veins some distance from here,” the smith continued. “Almost a kind of powder. It’s dangerous, though. It can make the miners sick, but the metal strong.” People grew serious. This seemed the perfect metaphor for what was happening to the people of the Goddess, as they made ever more compromises and sacrifices for their goal of defeating the invaders.

  “What we need to do,” said Garm, “is try different combinations, and test the results.”

  “An opportunity I would relish,” said an old smith from a village near Green Bower, “if time were not so short.”

  With that, everyone got to work.

  “Are the arrowheads ready?” Kalie asked Garm.

  “Soon.” Garm nodded to where steam issued from a huge vat of water.

  Sirak arrived a moment later, carrying a spear. He went straight to the master smith, even though it meant waiting until he was finished answering an apprentice’s question. “This is what we need!” the boy said eagerly without preamble. “This spearhead. It doesn’t grow dull, even after five mock battles! You told us to tell you which ones—“

  “Yes,” said Janak, taking the weapon and studying it intently. He was soon lost in his own calculations. Two of the apprentices brought the arrows Kalie was waiting for. “You’ll need someone to help carry these,” one of them told her.

  Kalie saw that the girl was right—but that was a good thing. They were going to need a lot of these.

  “I’ll help,” said Sirak. “I’m headed back to the practice field anyway.”

  Kalie admired the way the boy, although now at thirteen years, nearly a man, hefted the heavier of the two wooden crates while she lifted the second. He had certainly changed, she thought as they walked to the practice field, where the newest recruits would learn the art of fitting the points to the wooden shafts and attaching the feathers that would make the arrow fly true. A small amount would be used in practice, the rest kept back for actual battle.

  Suddenly Kalie asked Sirak, “What’s happened to you? What caused such a change?”

  Sirak’s open, confident expression disappeared, becoming guarded. “What do mean?”

  Kalie had not wanted that to happen, so she lightened her tone, and tossed back her long brown hair. “Only that when you first came here, you and your mother meant to rule this place with you as king. Something seems to have changed. Or should I be worried?”

  “You knew about that?” Kalie saw that Sirak was actually ashamed.

  “I figured it out,” Kalie said, deciding not to go into detail that would embarrass Sirak further. “But now I have to worry about at least a dozen new warriors, lately arrived with Kariik who might have the same ambition. So I’d like to know what changed for you. And could we make it work for them?”

  Sirak nodded gravely. “There are a few in that group we’ll have to worry about. They remind me of myself.” His mouth twisted in bitter amusement. “Ambition is probably the hardest thing any Aahken warrior has to give up to make a life here.”

  “But you gave up yours?”

  Sirak stopped and looked at Kalie. His expression was not the least disrespectful or condescending. “I traded it for new ambitions. Who needs to be a king, and spend his whole life worrying about a knife in the back from rivals who will always be there, when there are so many other things to be?”

  “Like what?” Kalie asked as they resumed walking.

  “A great warrior. A teacher of great warriors. A hero. That’s what I want to be the most. I want to be the man who defeats those arrogant fools who dare to call themselves Wolves of the Gods. I want to save this new world so I’ll always have a place in it.” Kalie started to interrupt, but Sirak continued quickly. “I know: I’ll have a place here no matter what. But I want more. I want to earn it.”

  “You could have earned an important place in the tribe if you’d stayed—“

  “Ha! That’s what they say! But that’s not how it is; not for the son of a slave. Once I figured that out, everything changed. That, and seeing that all the wealth and comfort my mother wanted so much already belonged to her, so it stopped being my responsibility. If she spoils it for herself again…well, I can’t help that. I like having different paths to choose from, and knowing it’s me who gets to decide. And Analie. I never thought I’d like a girl who fights like a warrior, but I like her.”

  They had reached the practice field. Kalie was moved almost to tears by Sirak’s words, so she just smiled at him, and handed off her crate to a large blond man whose family had been arrow makers for as long as Stonebridge stood. Sirak hurried off to his students. Kalie took a rare moment to look around. No one had the luxury to just be a spectator, unless they’d been ordered to watch a particular bout by an instructor. Everyone was busy learning, teaching or practicing with weapons or horses, and the sense of time running out was everywhere.

  And then Kalie spied an amazing sight. Otera, and most of her followers, were practicing with men from the east. Not the new arrivals; none of Kariik’s band. But Durak and Zanal were there, along with several of the men and women of Stonebridge who had trained the longest. Kalie went to join them.

  As they practiced with spears and daggers, it became clear that these women worked as well together as any formation of warriors Kalie had seen. Some showed real skill, and all responded well to criticism—although better from women, Kalie noticed, than from men. Next, the coaches led the students to where the horses grazed. Kalie felt a pang as she saw Blossom. How long had it been since she’d been astride her old horse?

  “Have any of you been on horseback?” she asked one of the women.

  “This is our third day training,” she replied. “But only about half of us show any promise.”

  “Maybe I can help,” Kalie said. “At least I can offer an additional horse. And she’s a good one for getting acquainted with the idea.”

  Kalie worked with the women for the rest of the day. Afterwards, they went to the hot springs to bathe and relax, and Kalie finally found time to speak with Otera.

  “What changed your mind about working with us?” she asked bluntly.

  Otera seemed ready to challenge Kalie’s use of the word “us”. Then she leaned back in the water until only her face showed and stayed there for a long time. Emerging slowly, water-darkened hair plastered to her face, Otera shrugged. “I want my new tribe to be the best warriors in the land. And, much as I may wish otherwise, that means learning from creatures who know nothing else. At least they have their uses.”

  “The warriors from the east or the warriors of Stonebridge?” Kalie asked innocently.

  Otera shot her a dirty look at which point one of her followers jumped in. “None of these people have harmed any of us,” said a red-haired woman. “While it is hard for some of us who have had dealings with men from other tribes, we have to stay focused on what matters: keeping our world alive.”

  “And that means learning from the best,” said another.

  “Only until we’re better than they are,” said Otera.

  Kalie looked at the women soaking in the lovely water, stretching out on the rocks around the pools wi
th soft towels providing comfort, combing each other’s hair or massaging pain from overworked muscles. In the shadowy world of the underground cave, they could almost be any harem in any tent on the steppes. Except that the camaraderie was much friendlier.

  “Would you like a massage?” a very young woman asked Kalie as she climbed out of the pool and began to dry off. “I’m pretty good.”

  There was laughter and good natured gibing. “She’s great!” said Otera.

  “Yes, thank you,” Kalie said. She stretched out and the girl went to work on her back and shoulders, clearly knowing just where stiffness from practicing with a bow all day would be.

  “Malana doesn’t much like the water,” said one of the others. “But given her experience with it, it’s no surprise.”

  “Ah, but a river is what brought me to all of you,” said Malana, and Kalie noticed her accent. One which matched her blond hair and eastern features.

  “You’re from the steppes!” Kalie cried, turning to get a better look at her.

  “Don’t jump like that! You’ll undo all my work.” Kalie obeyed, but knew she wasn’t as relaxed as a moment before.

  Malana redoubled her efforts. “I was once a chief’s daughter,” Malana said.

  “Which tribe?” Kalie couldn’t help asking.

  “A very small one. They no longer speak my name, so I shall return the favor.” The bitterness in Malana’s voice was not lost on Kalie.

  “What was it? Defying your father? A rival’s lies?”

  “I was raped by the man I was supposed to marry after my father broke the betrothal in favor of a better alliance. Him and all his clan.”

  “Yes, of course,” Kalie said, trying to unclench. Malana really was very good; it would be wrong to waste her efforts. “Their way of declaring war with your father. And forcing him to kill you. Very…artistic.”

  “You seem to know a lot about my old life.”

  “I was a slave in the tribe of Aahk for a time,” Kalie said casually, as if speaking of a summer season. Malana’s hands fell gracefully away, and Kalie sat up. “That was wonderful. Thank you. So how do you still live?” she asked, getting dressed.