by D.D. Chant
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kai was sitting before the fire in his private chambers, a book was open on his knee but he wasn’t reading it. His fingers played absently with the pages as his eyes fixed on the flames, a stern and forbidding hardness in their depths.
He had sent for Rem, and he had told him to bring Aya to him.
Kai frowned, as much as he wanted to demonstrate to the other Head Families that his family was anything but weak, he knew that Elder Headman Amajit was right. They had been through too much, and fought too hard, to destroy everything now.
To continue to reject Aya only made the future of the Head Families even more unstable than it already was. He must look beyond the pride of his House and see that there was more at stake.
He didn’t like it, but he knew he must accept her. He frowned, wishing he understood her better.
What was Aya trying to do?
What was her true purpose in coming here?
He remembered her standing before him in the justice chambers. The harsh early morning light had flooded her flower-soft face, highlighting pale skin and pink cheeks. She had looked so vulnerable, and every instinct that Elder Headman Amajit had instilled in him had told him to protect her.
However, whatever her appearance, she had been anything but helpless.
He remembered the calm coolness with which she had challenged the Headmen. She had been stubborn in her defence of her Tula keepers, and clung them, declaring them the only family she recognised. In any other situation he might have found the conflicting image she presented intriguing, but when she was disgracing his family and opening them up to censure, her actions could only breed anger in him.
She was not Una; he understood why she would not have that identity. She had been turned, tainted by her proximity to Councillor Ladron, and all that was Tula about her offended him. Yet he was being asked to take her into his home and his life. The very thing that he most despised, he must now accept.
The thought brought choking rebellion up into his throat, but he fought it. There was nothing to be done; best to resign himself to it just as Shin had said. He tried to regain the calm detachment that he had built up to contain his feelings, but somehow that coolness eluded him now.
He wasn’t sure why he felt such bitterness toward her, why she could elicit such a furious response from him. He had always been angry, but before, his anger had been formless; a reality that he had to live with, like the need to eat and sleep. With Aya returned the feeling had crystallised, becoming more personal, and directed solely at her.
Maybe it was her defiance, her belief in her innocence and the rightness of her own actions. Or maybe it was the concern she had shown her Tula keepers. Perhaps it was just that she was so calm and unruffled. She had turned his life upside down, yet retained her own equilibrium.
Kai shook his head. He didn’t know, but after all the years he had spent erecting a wall of impenetrable coldness, he resented her power to cast his feelings into chaos.
How had it come to this?
How had this happened?
How had all of this become his problem?
He rubbed his eyes tiredly; these were not worthy thoughts for a Headman. How many times had Elder Headman Amajit told him so? A Headman could have no sense of self, no personal feelings that would disrupt his duty. In return for the power and wealth that a Headman enjoyed, he had to give up all thought to himself and his own needs. He was no longer a man but a people, every decision and every action was made on behalf of, and for the good of, the many people who looked to him as their Apprentice Headman.
Kai remembered as a boy that Elder Headman Amajit explained a Headman’s path to him. It was those lessons had been the highlight of his youth. Kai smiled; they had probably been the highlight of many a boy’s youth: Shin, Yul, P’ter, Laren… all his peers.
The educational system split the Head Families’ sons into different classes with regard to age and position in the line of succession. Elder Headman Amajit had ignored the practise, and his classes had been notable for their variety. It was through these ‘lessons’ that Kai had befriended Shin, for as a second son and a firstborn, dictate had decreed that they be forever separated by their different stations.
Strangely enough, Kai could not actually remember doing any formal learning. What Elder Headman Amajit had taught them did not live in the pages of a schoolbook.
He had taken them for walks, on picnics, to fish or swim. As they had played he had talked to them: riddles, questions, debates… Elder Headman Amajit had engaged them in all. It had been fun, but now Kai could also see how much those afternoons had shaped him, not only as a person, but also as a Headman.
Through Elder Headman Amajit’s teaching they had all become aware of the underlying politics that governed their world. School had taught them the laws and political structure of their lands. Elder Headman Amajit had explained how those laws affected them and their people. How their decisions as Headman would affect the people, and how their smallest mistakes could mean suffering and pain to many.
Kai was so deep in his thoughts that he did not hear the light tap on his door, and so after a moment Rem stepped into the room.
“Kai?”
He turned, coming half out of his chair before he registered that it was Rem, and that Aya stood beside him. Kai noticed that her hair was down. It fell in large loose curls over her shoulders and down to her waist, its colour rich against the yellow of her dress.
She was regarding him with a straightforward, unselfconscious gaze, and one of her hands was clasped tightly in Rem’s. She showed no nervousness or tension, but Rem’s expression held both.
“Thank you, Kai.”
Rem bowed formally and Kai placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, shaking him a little until he straightened.
“You have no reason to thank me, Rem.”
Kai seated himself back down in his chair by the fire, and gestured that they should also sit down. He looked again to Aya as she obediently sank into a chair beside her brother. She had not spoken, but her silence was not unfriendly. It was not that she was refusing to speak, but that she was politely waiting until she was spoken to.
Well that at least was a blessing.
Of all things he wished her out of his sight. Yet he knew that even if he succeeded in removing her from his presence she would still be with him, inhabiting his thoughts and giving him no respite.
Kai’s gaze shifted again to Rem, to the eagerness and hope in his eyes. However he felt about Aya, she was not worth a single moment of sadness for Rem, nor would Kai allow her to be the wedge between them, driving them apart.
“How have you been, Rem?”
The boy shifted uneasily, and Kai noticed that he still clasped Aya's hand as though he took strength from the contact with her.
“Well, thank you, Brother. I hope that the days that have passed since we last talked have not proved too wearisome to you,” answered Rem formally.
Wearisome?
Kai gritted his teeth. A headache proved wearisome; the life that Aya forced them all to lead was an affliction. His eyes flicked over to her again. Her head was bent slightly, and she stared at some spot halfway between her chair and his. Her hands were folded in her lap, and the firelight played over the rich thickness of her hair, making it glow.
Every gesture spoke of subservience, yet somehow the aura she exuded was anything but submissive. She radiated a quiet strength, a self-possessed control, an unshakable calmness that was infuriating. Her manner was a taunt, implying that even though she was bending to his will, it was by choice that she did so.
It pricked Kai’s temper more effectively than anything he could remember having done before.
“And how have you found the days since last we talked, Dam’sel Aya?” asked Kai.
Her eyes flickered up to meet his and she blinked slowly once or twice. He knew that there had been nothing in his words that had conveyed offence, but the insult was there neverthel
ess.
“The time has passed quickly, Senior.”
“Maybe for you,” observed Kai blandly.
She stiffened a little, and Kai felt satisfaction flood his veins at the thought that he had at least put a dent in her calm.
“It must be very different here to what you are used to.”
She paused momentarily as if in thought.
“No, not really.”
Her answer surprised Kai.
“It isn’t?”
Aya shook her head, and calmly met his gaze.
“I was hated and mistrusted in the Tula strongholds too, so you see this is all very familiar to me.”
Beside her, Rem closed his eyes as if in prayer. As placid as her reply had been, there could be no concealing its hidden barb. Kai wondered a little at her daring, she was either very stupid or very clever. He could not quite decide which.
Kai studied her face. She met his gaze frankly, with the unabashed freeness of one who knew her conscience to be clear. She had an honest look about her, an openness that reminded him of Rem. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t trust it. Rem had that same look about him, a look of wholesomeness, but none knew better than Kai how misleading that fresh faced innocence was.
Rem had the cunning of a fox, and his mind had an almost diabolical slant that took most by surprise.
Rem had been, at the tender age of fourteen, an opponent that even Kai would have been cautious of. He had held his own against many older, more experienced men.
Kai had encouraged the boy’s shrewdness. Rem had needed it, he had inherited his position too young and vulnerability had not been an option. Rem had lost his childhood to this mess just as surely as he had lost his father and mother. In a way he had lost his sister too, perhaps not in body but certainly in spirit.
Aya was not the child Kai had once known. That child had been open, uncomplicated, without guile. She had been trusting in a way that only a well loved and protected child could be.
The woman before him was… different.
In other circumstances, he would have said that her spirit had been broken, but somehow that didn’t ring quite true. She might be the complete opposite of everything that she had once been, but she was not broken. She was self-contained, self-possessed, and Kai had the strangest feeling that she could prove dangerous too. There was something very unnerving in her stillness, in the blank expression in her eyes.
He rose from his chair and stood before her. She watched his movements carefully, but did not shrink from him as might be expected. She waited patiently for whatever came next with a distinct lack of apprehension. Kai took hold of her hand and pulled her to stand before him. She hesitated momentarily before she gave in to the pressure of his grip, as though deciding whether to allow him to have his way.
Kai saw Rem stiffen in uncertainty as he drew out his dagger. The flames from the fire gave life to the sapphires in the hilt that were his family insignia. She didn’t flinch, though her eyes lowered momentarily to the dagger, and then calmly returned to his face.
Kai turned her hand so that her palm was uppermost and paused, waiting for her to comprehend what was happening.
He knew the moment that the realisation hit. Her eyes widened fractionally as he forced the hilt into her hand, wrapping her fingers around it, and then closing his hand over hers.
“Aya Uel Ne Singh, daughter of the House of Singh, I welcome you as my Bonded mate giving my family to you, and accepting your family as my own.”
His words were formal, the voice that spoke them strong and steady. They were the words of the final Bonding ceremony when the bond between them was sealed.
It was Kai accepting her as his mate before her brother.
It was truce.
That he had used a dagger as the symbol over which he had chosen to make his vow would not escape her notice. It was a statement and a warning as well. Men swore oaths of peace over daggers, of trust that they would not raise arms against each other.
At the final Bonding ceremony the oath would spoken over a ring carrying the sapphire and pearl insignia of their families.
Aya looked up at him expressionlessly, yet Kai knew that she was thinking fast. Behind her outward show of calm was a feverish rush of activity. He could sense it.
Eventually she spoke, her voice soft and pleasantly husky. Kai could feel her words on his skin, binding her to him for eternity.
“I, Aya Uel Ne Singh, daughter of the House of Singh, recognise you, Kai Uel Ne Sen, son and Apprentice Headman to the House of Sen, as my Bonded mate and hand my life over to your safe keeping.”
Kai regarded her for a few moments more, pleased that she knew her part, and glad that she was displaying willingness to cooperated with him. He released her and Aya made to hand the dagger back to him. He shook his head.
“Keep it as a reminder of the oath that you have sworn to me this day.”
He knew she had understood him by the calculating glint that entered her eyes. He had bestowed his trust upon her, but he still felt she still needed to earn it. She didn’t seem affronted at all, but inclined her head slightly.
Rem and grinned at Kai, clasping his arm just below the elbow in a show of thanks.
“Thank you, Kai.”
Kai smiled.
“It is customary for me to be the one thanking you for bestowing your sister upon me.”
“Of all things, customary is not the epithet I would have used for this joining of our families.” Rem paused, lifting an eyebrow. “When will you make your oath before the Headmen?”
“Soon. My father has said nothing, but I know he wishes this matter brought to a close.”
Rem nodded, his face creasing into a serious frown as he turned to his sister.
“You know what this means, Astra?”
Kai frowned as the Tula name left Rem’s lips with a familiarity that he could only abhor.
Aya nodded.
“I told you I would not shame you by refusing the Bonding.”
She seemed calm, thought Kai, almost as though she had been expecting this.
Could she have known?
Had she expected this?
Had she bargained on the fact that he would have to take her in?
Kai didn’t know, but the suspicion was unwelcome. He would have to watch his wife closely.
“I will call for Aya tomorrow, Rem.”
“Why will you come for me tomorrow?”
Kai found her eyes fixed upon him with a lost expression in their depths. Perhaps she was feeling disoriented by the speed with which all this was progressing. He was just about to answer her question when he noticed that a slight stiffness had crept into her shoulders. It was strangely at odds with the dazed expression in her eyes.
“It is customary for a Bonded couple to approach the Elder Headman to seek permission for the finale ceremony.” He paused, trying to gauge her reaction. “Tomorrow we will present ourselves to Elder Headman Amajit and ask for his consent.”
Aya nodded slowly.
“And is it likely he will agree?”
Kai watched her closely.
“He will probably demand that the ceremony take place within the next week.”
The stiffness became more pronounced, and Kai realised that it was probably the closest she would come to an outward display of panic. He wondered why he had not noticed before. Perhaps it was because she tensed up so slowly that it was hard to detect. Her face had remained calm, a blank mask of concealment.
How could he have been so blind?
Why had he not realised that it was impossible for her to have been so serene, so coolly in control, through all that she had faced since her return?
Why had he not recognised it as the protective shield it was?
“It is regrettable but the ceremony must take place soon.”
“Why?” Aya’s face jerked up and her eyes met his. “That is… I do not object… I only wondered.”
“Because the Elder Headman dema
nds it,” returned Kai softly.
She bowed.
“I shall be ready at the appointed time.”
Rem stood and yawned sleepily. He looked relaxed and cheerful.
“Then I think it is time for us to return home.”
He bowed slightly to Kai and took Aya’s hand. Before he could move Kai took a step closer to Aya, forcing her head up so that she met his eyes.
“You will not embarrass me tomorrow, Aya.” Kai’s voice was soft, and he stressed her name a little.
She stepped away from him and bowed respectfully.
“I will behave in line with custom, Senior.”
Kai was silent for a long time after they had left.
He had threatened his wife, but she hadn't really seemed to notice.
Kai’s hands curled in to fists, he didn’t know who had threatened her that she could accept intimidation with such equanimity. Yet he vowed that if he ever found them, he would certainly punish them. No one harmed those under his protection. As Apprentice Headman it was his duty to see that his people were safe, and he resented the fact that someone had mistreated one of those living under the safeguard of his name.
One day he would find out who had dared to threaten Aya, and when he did they would know the fury of the House of Sen.
