by Davis Ashura
“You didn’t shame me,” Rukh said. “You only reminded me of how I was avoiding doing what I knew was right.”
“Was taking me on a late-night stroll through Dryad Park the ‘right’ thing to do?” Jessira asked, her lips set in a frown.
Rukh shrugged. “As I said … a series of mistakes.”
Jessira shook her head. “I think you’re being too generous,” she said. “I did something unforgivably selfish, and for you to try and absolve me of my choices, saying they weren’t important to your fate … ” She shook her head in disagreement. “You’re wrong, Rukh.”
Rukh sighed heavily, not sure what else to say, and an uncomfortable silence fell between them. He ended it a moment later. “All I can tell you is this: I want to move past what’s happened. I want to find a way to make something — anything — out of the wreckage of my life. As a start, I want our friendship back.” He searched her features, wondering what she was thinking. His ability to sense her feelings or thoughts seemed to have left him. “What about you?”
Jessira hunched her shoulders and rubbed her hands over her crossed arms before a tight smile appeared on her face. “I want the same thing,” she said. “It’s just … ” She paused.
“It’s just what?” Rukh coaxed.
“I don’t know if I deserve your forgiveness, and I don’t think getting on with your life is going to be as easy as you seem to think it will be.”
“You never needed my forgiveness,” Rukh replied. “You need your own. And I know it won’t be easy putting my life back together, but I have to start somewhere.” He shrugged. “Making things right between us is a start. Maybe then I won’t feel sad all the time.”
Jessira regarded him. “Do you want to tell me?” she asked.
Rukh laughed in bitterness. “What’s there to tell? I hurt, and I’m tired.” He stared Jessira in the eyes, giving her a challenging look. “I could use a friend, though.”
“I am a friend,” she said.
“Well, we haven’t exactly been friendly lately, have we?”
“What do you mean?” Her face was a frozen mask, hiding her emotions, but Rukh noticed the tension in her shoulders. It was her giveaway whenever she was nervous.
“I think you know what I mean,” Rukh replied, annoyed at her reserve. “When was the last time either of us laughed?”
“I didn’t think you’d appreciate my happiness when you’re so miserable,” she replied.
“I could use seeing some joy right now, even if I can’t feel it myself.”
“What do you want to do then?” Jessira asked, her face thawing somewhat.
“What friends normally do. Talk about our lives,” Rukh answered, relieved she was showing some interest in what he was saying.
“What do you want to talk about?” Her face thawed further.
“I don’t know. Whatever you want. You can tell me all about Stronghold or your family or your fiancé.” He forced a smile. “I’m curious to meet this man who’s won your heart. He must be special.”
“My fiancé is a man amongst boys,” Jessira answered, deadpan. “He feeds the poor, tames the mountains, and is satisfied by nothing less than a thousand virgins.” She paused. “Then he has breakfast.”
Rukh barked in sudden laughter. “Remind me never to get on his bad side,” he said. “But if he needs a thousand virgins a day, what happens when the two of you get married.”
Jessira looked at Rukh from beneath hooded eyes, and she grinned slowly. “After he’s had me, he’ll still feed the poor, tame the mountains, and have his breakfast, but he will never again need a thousand virgins.”
Rukh smiled at her self-satisfied smirk, but something in her words caught his attention. “After he’s had you. Meaning he hasn’t had you yet. He blinked in confusion. What’s wrong with him?” The question slipped out before he could think to keep his mouth shut, but it was asked out of genuine curiosity and puzzlement. What was wrong with the man? Jessira’s fiancé must have ice water for blood if he didn’t want to be with Jessira.
Jessira’s smirk left her face. She reddened. “Can we talk about something else?”
“You brought this up,” Rukh reminded her.
“Just let it go.”
“Then tell me what he’s really like?”
“He’s a plumber.”
“A plumber,” Rukh replied. Jessira was going to marry a plumber? “He must be an extraordinary plumber.”
“Don’t judge him,” Jessira said, tartly. She must have heard the mockery in Rukh’s voice. “He’s a good man. And besides, in Stronghold, a plumber is a highly honored and lucrative craftsman.”
“I see,” Rukh said, although he didn’t. What could be so attractive about being a plumber? “So when did you meet?”
“Why do you want to know so much about him?”
“I’m curious. I want to get to know you and your people better. And I’ll probably meet your fiancé eventually anyway. And I don’t want to say or do anything embarrassing, like act shocked when I find out he’s a plumber.”
Jessira sighed. “Fine. His name is Disbar Merdant. He’s a journeyman plumber, but he should receive his master’s card by the spring. As for how we met: Stronghold is a small city, only about a fifth the size of Ashoka, and we grew up together, although he’s a few years older than me.”
“And he doesn’t care when you’re sent out of the city as part of your warrior’s duties?”
“He doesn’t like it, but once we’re married, I’ll step down from the Silversuns, my squad.”
“And then what?”
She shrugged. “Then I’ll bear his children. I’ll fulfill the dream of all women: to become an amma.” She sounded defensive, as if she was trying to convince herself of the truth of her statement.
“You must love him a lot to give up scouting,” Rukh said.
“Love him?” Jessira chuckled. “Not yet.”
Rukh frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Our parents thought we’d make a good match,” Jessira said. “And the dowry has already been paid.”
An arranged marriage then. They were common in Ashoka as well, although most everyone dreamt of finding a love match. Maybe that explained why Jessira and this Disbar Merdant had yet to be intimate. The man was still an idiot for not trying.
Rukh shook his head. He needed to get his mind off that topic. It brought up thoughts about Jessira he shouldn’t be having. “I’m sure you’ll be happy,” he said, cringing at the empty sentimentality of his words, even as they left his mouth.
“I’m sure we will,” Jessira replied, looking certain, but Rukh could hear the doubt in her voice.
*****
Aia placed a tentative paw in the slow running, shallow river. She quickly withdrew it. The water was cold. Her tail switched her irritation, and she paced along the bank in irritation. Her Human had crossed this same river several weeks ago, and she was bound and determined to reclaim him. But the obstinate, freezing water cared little for her desires. It thwarted her wants, defying her. All of it seemed grossly unfair.
Aia came to a disgusted halt and stared out over the river in annoyance. If a Kesarin could grimace, just then Aia would have. Aia sat down on her haunches and yawned, thinking on what she should do next.
Her Human was heading deeper into the mountains, and though it was yet early in the cold season, Aia could already see snow blanketing many nearby slopes and peaks. The high country was a wretched land of jagged rocks, biting cold, and piercing ice. It wasn’t a place for a Kesarin. Her kind were built for the warmth of the Land, the lush savannah the Humans named the Hunters Flats. Kesarins thrived in the burgeoning heat of a summer, not the chill claws of winter.
Aia groomed herself from elbow to shoulder and considered her options. She ran her raspy tongue along her fur, clipping out a knot with her teeth. Next, she turned her attention to her head, running a paw from the back of her neck to the sensitive area between her ears. Again and again Aia rubbed, until
she was certain she’d worked out all the dirt and debris she could reach. The paw required a final cleansing wipe from her tongue before she was satisfied that her fur was as perfectly groomed.
The sun stood high and warm, and the riverbank invited her to take a nap, but Aia’s growling stomach reminded her that it had been over a day since she had last ate. With a disappointed huff, Aia stood and padded away from the river, taking a nearby trail through the forest. Earlier in the day, she had spotted a small herd of deer. They might be lingering nearby still. As she walked along the trail, she heard a rustling to her left and noted a brown bear moving through the trees. He looked likely to intersect her path, and Aia eyed him warily. He was large for his kind, and Aia stepped toward him, snarling a challenge. The bear took one look at her, and heeded her warning. He quickly changed direction.
Aia gave a satisfied blink. It was as it should be, and she turned her thoughts back to how she had lost her Human. Rukh Shektan was his name, and Aia loved the flavor of his mind. She had from the first time she had met him. In fact, shortly after investigating his presence in the hills north of the Land, Aia had decided Rukh would be hers to keep. His fingers were so perfect for scratching her chin, and his funny ideas and notions, such as the loving care and devotion he applied to the female — the one who wasn’t his mate or even family — all of those things interested her. Of course, then he had so inconsiderately hidden himself away in the ant colony of activity in which Humans lived, a place she couldn’t enter.
After several weeks of waiting for him to reappear, Rukh had finally exited his city. But to Aia’s consternation, she discovered him traveling with many glarings of his fellows. It hadn’t been easy to sneak into his camp, surrounded as he was by so many of his kind. She’d managed it, and Rukh had quite properly scratched her chin as reward for her achievement.
She smiled in remembrance.
At the time, Aia had been feeling quite generous, so when her Human had asked her for an odd request, she had agreed. He needed her help in saving the horned Nobeasts. Aia had honored his appeal because it was so unusual. He cared for the creatures he admitted had plagued his kind for generations. But somehow, he had forgiven them.
How odd.
Her nanna, Kezin Blenze, had acceded to her Human’s request, stating there was no real harm in allowing a few horned Nobeasts, the Baels, to roam the Flats. And if they proved troublesome, they could be killed whenever the Kesarins chose.
By the time Aia had accomplished Rukh’s request and had seen the Baels safely settled in Hungrove lands, her Human had made his way back to his ant colony home. There, he had inexplicably turned away from the place and took a northwestern direction, heading into the high country. And at no time had he waited for Aia to catch up. He had pressed on, moving rapidly until he had journeyed beyond her reach. He was already deep in the heart of the icy mountains, a place Aia couldn’t follow.
It was so thoughtless of him, selfish really. Aia’s ears flattened and her eyes narrowed. Her tail switched once more. Did her Human not realize how much she enjoyed when he scratched her chin or spoke to her with his languid, honeycomb thoughts?
She snarled her frustration, but there was nothing to it. If she sought Rukh now, she’d simply freeze her life away in the wretched mountains. With a heavy exhalation, Aia realized that she’d have to head south, back to the Land, and wait out the cold season in the Hungrove territories. But once the world warmed again, Aia was determined to journey north, even deep into the mountains if necessary. Then, she would reclaim her Human.
Chapter 3: A Brief History
With the founding of Stronghold, we stepped past the tired and outdated Castes with their stifling society built on the falsehood of separation. We built a city based on fraternity.
-Our Lives Together by Col Meander, AF 1923
Jessira woke up to find her eyelashes sticking to her face. Overnight, the weather had turned frigid, and frost rimmed the surrounding brush and grass. With an irritated scowl, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from of her eyes. Last night, they had stopped just after sunset, making camp in a box canyon at the base of a red sandstone mesa. It rose before her, sheer and upright, glittering diamond-like sparkles when the first rays of the sun glanced off of slender shards of blue-hued ice. Similar cliffs surrounded them on all sides, except to the west where the Privation Mountains towered. A harsh breeze gusted, and she clutched her bedroll tightly around herself until it passed. The wind also carried the stirring smell of something delicious, and she looked to the campfire. Rukh had made fresh coffee and was also grilling some kind of meat.
He bent over near the fire; his back turned as he did something with his hands. He stood and walked toward her. “Here.” He offered a cup of coffee.
“Thank you,” Jessira said gratefully. During her time in Ashoka, she had learned to love the bitter taste of coffee. With a little sugar and milk, it was heavenly. There was nothing better to start the day and get a person going.
It was too bad the bushes from which the beans sprouted wouldn’t grow well in Stronghold’s high elevation and cool weather. At least, that’s what Jessira figured. She’d have to check on it when she got home. Of course, Rukh’s nanna had supplied them with plenty of coffee beans, but once it was all used up, there wouldn’t be anymore. Then she’d find herself greatly missing her morning delight.
She hid a smile at the thought. There was something else people labeled as being a ‘morning delight’.
“What is it?” Rukh asked, picking up on her amusement.
“Nothing,’ Jessira said. She took a grateful sip of her coffee and sighed in relief, feeling its warmth spreading through her. “What are you cooking?” she asked.
“Rabbit. Caught a couple in a trap I set out last night.”
“Do you need me to take over?”
“I’m not going to burn them,” Rukh said, sounding offended.
“Much. You won’t burn them much,” Jessira said, smiling again over the lip of her cup. “But if you think you can handle it on your own, I’ll leave you to it.” Times past, she might have patted him patronizingly on the cheek just to irritate him. Not now. Touching him, even fleetingly, would have been far too familiar. While they’d overcome much of their reserve from that first week on the road, they still had a ways to go before they were truly comfortable around each other once again.
“I’ll be fine,” Rukh said. “Anyway, enjoy your coffee. Breakfast should be ready in a bit.” He gave her a half-smile. “Your part will be the one that’s scorched.”
Jessira couldn’t see it, but she could sense Rukh’s grin as he walked back to the fire. He was obviously pleased with his quip.
Eventually, the coffee warmed her up, and she kicked out of the bedroll and slipped on her boots. The air bit as another gust blew through the canyon. She tried to ignore the icy wind even as she shivered. Ashoka had spoiled her. Stronghold’s weather was much colder and harsher than this. Back home, people would have considered this a fine spring day.
Jessira stood and looked toward the Privation Mountains. They were no more than a few days journey away, but once there, travel would become much more difficult. So far, she and Rukh had done well. They were three weeks out from Ashoka, and Jessira figured they’d covered five hundred miles, but it would be the next seven hundred — three hundred as the eagle flew — which would be much harder. She’d be happy if they managed to make it home sometime in the next six weeks, but she figured it more likely to be seven or eight with the snows, the rocky spines, and the twisting passes of the Privations to slow their progress.
And of course, there was the problem in figuring out the best means to reach Stronghold from their current position. They needed to start heading north soon, but when? Dar’El had supplied them with the best maps he could of the foothills surrounding Ashoka as well as the Privation Mountains, but the details were sadly lacking. The last thing they needed was to take a blind pass and have it end at sheer bluff. Jessira would be more
confident once they were further west and north. There, the mountains would be more familiar.
Until then they would have to do the best they could and hope they didn’t guess wrong too many times.
Her stomach growled. Time to see if those rabbits were edible.
“Do you mind eating as we ride?” Rukh asked when she wandered over to the fire.
“No,” she answered. “Do you mind if I spit out the burned parts?”
Rukh pointed to the seared rabbit meat in the pan. “You won’t need to,” he said, appearing insufferably smug. He had just pulled the skillet off the fire, and the meat looked perfectly done.
Jessira was impressed. “Not bad,” she said. “Maybe you’ll figure out this cooking thing after all.”
Soon after, they broke camp and mounted up, eating as they rode.
“Tell me about Stronghold,” Rukh said around bites of his breakfast.
“What do you want to know?” Jessira asked, wiping away a line of grease as it dribbled down her chin. The problem with rabbits: add too much fat to the skillet, and it made for messy eating.
“Everything, I guess,” Rukh replied. “If it’s going to be my home, I should probably know everything you can tell me about the people, the history, the government, where everyone lives — all of it.”
Jessira laughed. “It’ll make for pretty dry conversation this early in the morning, don’t you think?” she asked. “You sure there’s nothing else you want to talk about?”
“Maybe dry to you, but it’s all new to me.” Rukh shrugged. “Besides, I’m not going anywhere.”
Jessira gave him a considering look. Maybe he was finally coming to accept what had happened to him. If so, she was glad. Ever since he’d learned of his banishment, he’d trudged along in mute sorrow as they journeyed west. It had hurt to see him in so much pain, and now … perhaps his curiosity meant he was starting to come back to life.
She kept her thoughts to herself, though. Rukh could be as prickly as a cactus whenever she tried to express sympathy or compassion for his situation. She gave him a carefree shrug of her shoulders. “Suit yourself. But don’t blame me if I put you to sleep,” Jessira said. “Our city was founded in AF 1753 by fifty-five survivors of Hammer’s Fall. They were a small group of Sentyas, Duriahs, Cherids, Shiyens, Murans, and Rahails.”
