Vatar raised his hands, palm up. “Teran, I would never willingly hurt her. I’d die first.”
Teran’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe. That’s easy to say now, in the first flush of . . . But if you do not die before, you will die after, though I shatter the Tenets.”
Vatar looked back at Teran for a long moment. “We understand one another,” he said at last. “But I meant what I said. I’ve loved her without knowing it for about as long—since I first bespoke her by accident. You can keep your conscience clear, Teran. If I ever hurt her, nothing you can do to me will be as bad as I deserve.”
~
It was impossible to deny that summer had arrived. The snow had melted on all but the highest peaks. Fruit was ripening on the trees. Vatar couldn’t put off leaving for much longer.
Vatar thought about that as he walked back home—to his temporary home. Soon he’d be able to hold his children again. A grin split his face and his heart drummed in his chest at the thought. But, there was another side to that, too. His confrontation with Teran had forced him to face up to the possible danger to Thekila. Not among the Dardani—although he would have to warn her not to move things around where anyone could see. No, they’d be safe once they reached the Dardani. It was getting there. Vatar hadn’t forgotten Wartan’s threat. The problem with exile as a punishment was that it left your enemy with nothing to lose and potentially somewhere out there, lying in wait. Maktaz proved that and he hadn’t even been permanently exiled.
From the Council meeting, Wartan had to know where Vatar had come from—and where he’d be going back to. And Wartan had allies. Vatar would be a fool to ignore the possible danger. He could face it. He didn’t really have a choice. But he didn’t have a right to put Thekila in danger on his behalf.
Thekila greeted him with a kiss and a hug. Vatar sat heavily on the bench and bent to pull off his boots.
Thekila started brushing out her long hair. “You’re quiet tonight. What are you thinking about?”
“I was thinking that it’s about time I started back across the Forest.”
She flashed him one of her mischievous smiles. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing. We can camp along the way, just the two of us. And if we leave soon, we won’t have to hurry.”
Vatar dropped his boot and looked up. “Are you sure you still want to come with me?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Vatar pulled off his tunic. “Keran’s father may come hunting me. I’ve seen that kind of need for revenge before. It’s what drove me to the Ordeal in the first place. I don’t want you to have to endure what I did.”
Thekila turned to him and smiled. “That sort of thing won’t happen again, Vatar. They’ve been exiled.” She lightly traced his tattoo with her finger.
He caught her hand and held it gently in his own. “Not now. I want to talk about this.”
She stepped back to look at his face. “Vatar, they’re Valson!”
Vatar shook his head. “Not any more they’re not. If they ever were. Didn’t sound like they cared much about the Tenets before they were exiled. Now, they’re no more Valson than Loran and his friends were.”
Thekila chewed her lip. “They were exiled to the south, not the west.”
Vatar drew in a breath. “And yet they may find a way through, around, or over the mountains if they are determined enough.”
Thekila nodded. “They may. But not soon. The Kragehul Mountains are at their widest and most rugged to the south. There are no passes in that part of the range.” She looked up at him. “Or don’t you want me to come with you?”
Vatar rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You know I do. I can barely stand to have you out of my sight. I can’t imagine leaving you for several months, but—”
“Very well. That’s settled, then,” she said with finality and reached for his tattoo again.
Chapter 62: Family
Vatar and Thekila added the last items to their traveling packs. They’d said goodbye to their friends the night before so they could get an early start. The parting with Theklan had been hardest. He wanted to come along, but Thekila had insisted he continue his studies.
They stepped out of their door to find Quetza waiting for them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Thekila asked.
Quetza crossed her arms across her chest. “Going with you, of course. Don’t worry; I’ve got my own tent. I’ll give you your privacy.”
Thekila took a step forward. “Quetza—”
“Now, Thekila,” Quetza cut her off. “You know how I love camping and exploring. I couldn’t resist.” Then turning more serious, she added. “Besides, I know how to live in the Forest better than either of you. You may need my help out there. And Vatar’s not wrong to worry about Wartan and his crew. We don’t know who all of his allies might be.”
“Quetza—” Thekila started again.
“No, Thekila,” Vatar interrupted her. “She’s right. We can use the help. Thank you, Quetza.”
Thekila threw her hands up. “Well, I can’t fight both of you.”
Quetza laughed and turned toward the road that led to the Pass. “Oh, yes you could. Being outnumbered never stopped you before. But this time you know we’re right.”
They were climbing the pass by midmorning. Vatar looked around with interest. He hadn’t had a chance to really see much of it before. His eye was attracted by movement on the mountain slopes above the pass. It took a moment for him to recognize that the gray shapes that seemed to be moving against the gray rock face were animals. They were vaguely goat-like in shape, but when he looked closely, he could see that they had horns unlike any goat he had ever seen. These horns were straight, twisted in a tight spiral, and longer than his forearm. “What are those?”
Quetza stopped and looked where he pointed. “Oh. Mountain antelope,” she said. “It’s unusual for them to graze this close to the Pass.”
Vatar shaded his eyes to get a better view. He’d seen something like that before. “That’s the same as Zoria’s avatar, isn’t it? Except that hers is white.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Thekila said.
Quetza used her woods craft to lead them nearly due west by easier paths than Vatar had taken on his way east. They made good progress, but Quetza kept looking back as they walked. When they stopped, she circled back down their path.
Vatar reached for his belt knife—the best weapon he had since dropping his spear on his flight to the Pass. He’d hoped to find it again when they crossed the Pass, but only found the remains of his water skin. Orleus and Cestus must have picked up his spear and his pack and taken them back with them. “What’s wrong?”
“We’re being followed,” Quetza answered.
Thekila’s brows drew down. “Who? Or what?”
“Who,” Quetza replied. “It’s human, not animal.”
Quetza motioned them to silence as she listened. “We’ll camp early tonight.”
They quickly set up the tents. Quetza left them to build the fire and silently slipped back into the trees. Vatar and Thekila waited on alert for her return. About an hour later, Quetza stepped back into camp, pushing Theklan in front of her. Vatar relaxed.
Thekila leaped to her feet. “Theklan! What do you think you’re doing?”
The boy scuffed his toe in the deep forest soil. “Following you. You’re my sister. I should be with you.”
“You should be back at the Academy getting an education and learning to use your Powers properly,” Thekila said sternly.
“I don’t have any family back there. I belong with you,” the boy said stubbornly.
Thekila tapped the side of his head. “I’m never farther away than this. That is, if you learn how to use your Powers.”
Theklan stuck out his chin. “We’re not supposed to bespeak teachers.”
Thekila sighed deeply. “Well, I’m not at the Academy now. And that rule never applied to family members anyway.” She shook her head. “What am I going
to do with you?”
Quetza raised an eyebrow. “We either send him back or we take him with us. We can’t leave him alone in the Forest at his age. And if we send him back, one of us has to go with him.”
Theklan crossed his arms. “If you send me back, I’ll just come after you again! I won’t stay there all alone. I’m your brother.”
Vatar touched her arm. “It’s alright, Thekila. He’s welcome with the Dardani and there’ll be plenty of room for him in Caere. And you and Quetza can continue his education.”
“I suppose so,” Thekila answered with a shake of her head. “He can be so stubborn sometimes!”
Vatar smiled but didn’t say anything. Theklan’s not the only one in this family. He’ll fit right in.
~
When they neared the western edge of the Forest, a little exploring led them to Vatar’s first camp. From here, Vatar knew he could find his way back to the plains at the place where Uncle Bion would come for him. He was surprised when a chittering sound made him look up right into the lion-like face of Chit.
“Chitter! You’re still here,” he said, oddly pleased.
“Chitter?” Thekila asked.
“The squirrel,” Vatar answered, pointing. “He hung around my camp when I was here last summer.” With a touch of embarrassment, he added, “He was the only thing I had to talk to out here.”
Thekila grinned at him.
Vatar looked up again at renewed chittering. He smiled to see another, similar creature beside Chit. This one was a little darker in color and lacked the mane around its face. Behind her were four small bundles of fur. Vatar’s smile widened. “I see all those nuts I gathered and couldn’t take with me went to a good use.”
Once they were settled, Vatar attempted a second contact with Orleus. Even though Orleus was closer, this was actually harder than reaching Father all the way in Caere, because Vatar didn’t really know Orleus at all. He’d only had that one contact with him on the night of the attempted kidnapping. Vatar shook his head. “I can’t do it. I may have to relay the message through Father or Boreala—he’d used Far Speech to talk to both of them during the long winter—especially before he and Thekila made up.
“Before you resort to that, try the same way you contacted him the first time,” Thekila suggested. “Start with a distance viewing of someone you can find easily, like your son. Then expand to find Orleus. Then contact him.”
Vatar nodded and blew out his breath as he concentrated. He found Zavar playing happily with Savara and Fenar under an apple tree. Then he expanded out until he found Orleus, riding around the herds with Pa.
“Orleus! It’s Vatar,” he called, silently.
“Yes? Where are you?” Orleus answered.
“Near the edge of the Forest. I need to ask you to do something for me.”
“Yes?”
“Tell Mother that when Uncle Bion comes he should bring three extra horses. Suitable for young riders. Mother’s from Caere. She’ll understand how you know better than anyone else, even Pa.”
“Extra horses?”
“I’m bringing a couple of guests back. And Thekila, my life mate.”
“Ah! I’ll tell her. And I look forward to meeting your lady. And you.” Vatar could hear the smile in Orleus’s voice.
~
They waited just inside the edge of the Forest. After everything that had happened, Vatar had lost count of the days. He couldn’t be certain of the day on which his Ordeal would officially end. But he knew Uncle Bion would come on that day to escort him back home. He hoped it wouldn’t be too long.
One morning, Uncle Bion stood in the same spot from which he had sent Vatar into the Forest and called his name. Vatar held Thekila’s hand tightly as they stepped out into the brighter sunlight of the plains, followed by Quetza and Theklan. Vatar had not expected Uncle Bion to come alone. The other five chiefs—one from each Clan—were there, of course. Vatar was a little surprised to see who stood behind them, though. Vatar blinked to be sure he wasn’t imagining it, but they were there. Pa and Mother, Kiara, Arcas, Cestus, another man who could only be Orleus, all smiling broadly and, most wonderful of all, Zavar and Savara right in front with Fenar!
Vatar sprinted forward, dragging Thekila with him. He scooped up his children and was surrounded by his family.
He caught his mother eying Quetza with a speculative gleam in her eye. Why? Ah, of course. Mother wouldn’t have let Orleus go without explaining something about those extra horses. Though she knew better than to expose that knowledge where other Dardani could overhear, she must be wondering about Thekila. And tall, nearly blonde Quetza probably looked more like what she expected to see than Thekila did. Amidst the tall Dardani, Thekila looked almost like a child. Better straighten that out before anything embarrassing happened. Vatar broke free of the joyous reunion.
“Mother, Pa. This is Thekila,” he said, releasing his children and gathering Thekila to his side. “Don’t judge her by her size. Like Boreala, her Spirit is much larger than her body.”
Mother paused only an instant, looking at the way Thekila leaned against Vatar, before gathering Thekila into a hug.
“This is Thekila’s brother, Theklan,” Vatar added, introducing him. “He’s just about your age, Kiara.”
Kiara smiled at Theklan, which sent the boy into a fit of embarrassment.
Last of all, he turned to Quetza. “And this is our friend Quetza. Thekila’s oldest and dearest friend.”
~
Vatar rode with either Zavar or Savara in front of him all the way back to Zeda. “Did you miss me while I was gone, Zavar?”
“No,” Zavar said seriously, shaking his head. “You wasn’t gone.”
Vatar smiled down at his son. “Yes, I was. I was gone for a whole year.”
“You comed back,” Zavar answered.
“Yes, I did. Yesterday.”
“No,” Zavar insisted. “You comed back. At night. All the time.”
“You mean he was in your dreams?” Thekila asked.
“No,” Zavar insisted. “He comed back. He was with me.” His little face scrunched up with the effort of expressing himself. “Not in the hut. But there.”
Vatar and Thekila looked at each other for a moment. It couldn’t be—could it? Vatar had watched his children sleep almost every night during the winter and spring. Watched them sometimes in the daylight, too, playing with Fenar and Kiara. But Zavar shouldn’t have been aware of that.
Slowly, Vatar asked, “Zavar, do you remember when the bad men tried to take you away?”
The little boy nodded. “Yes.”
“Was I with you that night? Did I come back after you were safe in the hut?” Vatar asked, trying to keep a quaver from his voice.
Zavar’s little brow furrowed. “You comed. Then you was gone. Then you comed back.”
“And after that?” Vatar asked.
The little boy waved his pudgy arms. “All the time. Mostly at night.”
Vatar looked to Thekila. “What does it mean?”
“He sensed your distance viewings, Vatar,” Thekila said softly.
Vatar sighed. “It seems like it.”
Thekila looked at Zavar. “For Powers to manifest this young . . . He’ll need to be trained at the Academy.”
Vatar’s arms tightened around Zavar. “Surely not yet.”
Thekila smiled and shook her head. “No, of course not. Not until he’s Theklan’s age. But that much Power needs to be trained—and he must learn the Tenets.”
Vatar nodded. He could certainly agree with the last part. He understood, now. The Dardani were wrong about this and Thekila was right. It wasn’t the magic that was evil. Not in itself. It was what was done with it. The Tenets were the Valson’s protection against the misuse of their magical Powers.
“It means something else, too,” Quetza said, riding on the other side of Thekila.
Vatar looked over at her. “What’s that?”
“We need to continue your training,�
� Quetza said. “If your son has Powers at this age, they had to come from you. You’re more powerful than you know.”
The conversation was interrupted when Mother reined back to join them. She pointed off to the west. “Look over there, about a third of the way from here to the horizon.”
Even for Vatar, who thought he knew what they were looking for, it took a while to make out the running shapes in the middle distance, especially difficult to distinguish from the background of the plains because of their coloring.
“Are those horses?” Thekila asked, shading her eyes.
“Not exactly. They’re wild horses,” Vatar said.
“What’s the difference? And why are they so hard to see?” Quetza asked, fascinated.
“That’s their coloring. They’re a light tan color that blends well with the grasses. And they have spots that are black around the rim and darker tawny inside. It makes them hard to see if you don’t already know they’re there.”
“Are any of the Dardani horses like that?” Thekila asked.
“No,” Pa said with a touch of regret. “Not that we wouldn’t love to get that color. But the wild horses are uncatchable and untamable. It’d be like trying to ride an elk. Except it would be easier to catch the elk.”
“I can see how that would be, when they’re that hard to spot. How did your mother ever see them in the first place?” Quetza asked.
Pa smiled. “The wild horse is the totem of the Horse Clan. That’s why Lucina could sense them. Otherwise, we might never have known they were there at all.”
Vatar rode silently for a while after that, eyes not seeing the plains around him. He knew exactly how Mother felt the presence of the wild horses through the Spirit of the Horse. That only served to remind him of the Spirit of the Lion that he should feel here on the plains. He’d barely thought of it at all while he was in the Valley. Now, it was like a fresh wound, open and bleeding.
Chapter 63: Vindication
They were half a day out from Zeda when a larger escort joined them, the same nineteen young men who had been Vatar’s companions in the tiger hunt formed themselves into a guard of honor on each flank as the group rode proudly toward Zeda.
The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) Page 32
