But still, honor would not let him leave its sight.
No son of Kijamon had never dared to hate their father’s honor before, but Sarqi did so now. There was right and there was wrong, and this was wrong. Duty and honor were meant to serve rightness, not to obstruct it. Yet here he was, bound by that honor to watch over a pile of rock chips and to reject the full-throated scream of his duty.
Sarqi was miserable. He stood there in the stony corridor, oblivious to whoever might pass by and see him, head bowed, as though he bore the weight of his entire embassy upon his slender neck. Who will guide her to her people? The Gnome? And would he also free her from the bewitchment that was upon her? If only she hadn’t pulled at him. If only she had just let her hand slip placidly from his own…
The thought hung there, echoing in his bowed head for a long second, daring him to think about what he’d just thought. And then, slowly, his head rose, eyes widening in a bloom of pained realization. Oh, rock splinters!
“Wait for me!” he yelled, and then Sarqi, Djin Ambassador to the Gnomileshi Horde, abandoned his embassy without any further thought and bolted down the path in pursuit. The Queen of the Wasketchin had summoned him. With every fiber of strength she could muster, she had begged for his help.
And now she was gone.
Chapter 18
It was a very different Kijamon who summoned the family to gather around the forge that evening. This Kijamon was not the man Tayna had seen earlier—the seemingly unstoppable idea machine who juggled twenty conversations at once. This was a softer Kijamon. A quieter, more contemplative Kijamon. He’d been that way ever since Abeni had returned from reporting to Mabundi.
“Matters of honor have been brought to the family,” Kijamon said, his gaze flicking toward his son. And then to her.
Tayna stepped back from the forge. “I, uh, should leave you to discuss it,” she said, but Kijamon raised a hand.
“Please stay,” he said, gesturing her back to her place. “As the closest witness in these matters, you honor our House by bearing witness to our decisions as well.” Tayna glanced around uncomfortably for a moment and then shrugged and resumed her place at the forge.
While there were several small clusters of furniture scattered around the perimeter, the middle of the room was empty, occupied only by the massive stone forge. Apparently, it could be moved around the workshop, to suit whatever Kijamon wanted to work on. Although how he moved something that big, Tayna couldn’t imagine. Until she remembered the Wagon.
The floor of the room was dotted with circular rings—caps that covered wind ducts, Zimu had explained. Each duct was a separate channel for the winds that raced upward through the Wind Forge from below. Each time the forge was moved, one of the covers would be removed and the forge centered over it, allowing Kijamon to harness the very wind itself to serve as his bellows. Hence the name: Wind Forge. And the actual forge at its heart had always served as the centerpiece to all serious family discussions in House Kijamon, as it did again now.
The entire family was in attendance, except for Sarqi, who, the Gnome Ambassador had been happy to inform them, was now a guest of King Angiron, although nobody seemed sure just what that meant.
Standing here now, included in such a private family meeting as this, Tayna felt a number of conflicting emotions. She felt sad that Sarqi wasn’t here, although glad that he was okay. She felt lonely, being an outsider in an unfamiliar place. She even felt a pang of jealousy. Family yours, peril great, and all that.
But most of all, it made her feel short. These people were huge.
“We gather the House to decide matters of Honor,” Kijamon began. “Since the first days of this dwelling, this forge has been the very crucible of our House, giving heat, and light, and work. Giving honor. Every matter of duty has been sworn by its light. Every judgment has been warmed by its heat. The very name of House Kijamon has been hammered and shaped in its flame. And so now today, do we forge honor again.”
Beside her, Abeni shifted awkwardly on his feet, as though he was the stranger here. Poor guy. Tayna reached out and patted his hand. Around the forge, the gesture was noticed, even drawing a smile from Abeni’s mother.
“We begin with a matter of duty,” Kijamon continued. “Abeni, youngest son of this House, stands in iron. Bonded to the Wagon and to the Warding of the Seekers Royal.”
With all attention focused on him, Abeni looked miserable, and he hung his head with shame, refusing to even meet Tayna’s gaze. It was heartbreaking and stupid, she decided, but she knew better than to say so.
“So my son,” Kijamon said. “Have you anything more to say? Anything you left out when you spoke your report?” When Abeni had first returned, he and Kijamon had spent a long time speaking quietly together in the corner. Abeni had seemed to do most of the talking. Tayna hadn’t heard what he’d said, but from the sadness and guilt on his face it could not have been anything good. Now though, in response to his father’s question, Abeni snapped his head up and his eyes blazed.
“To not say a truth is to say a lie! Abeni would not do this.” Then, apparently embarrassed for having let his temper get the better of him, he lowered his head once more.
“So you say. So you say.” Kijamon tapped his fingers on the forge. Then he turned to Tayna. “And you, Little Fish. Would you add anything to your tale?” After speaking to Abeni, Kijamon had asked her a few questions as well. Mostly to clarify details of things Abeni had not seen for himself. “Any other wonders that slipped your mind? Invisible Gnomes, maybe? Or talking beavers to throw into the story pot? The stew is already quite filled with amazement, but another morsel or two would not be amiss.”
Tayna looked quickly at Abeni, but her friend was still in his “just shoot me” position, and Zimu wasn’t much help either, offering nothing but a shrug when she looked his way. Great. Flying blind again. Tayna drew a deep breath and then turned to face the master of the house. She wasn’t sure exactly what Abeni had told him, but “everything” seemed the most likely. There were lots of things she wanted to say. Things to make her look less like an idiot, or to make Abeni look good, but she didn’t know the rules for this kind of thing, and the honor in question was Abeni’s, not hers.
“I don’t think it would be good for me to add anything,” she said. “I hardly know what’s going on here, and since nothing that happened makes sense to me, it would probably make less sense to you. Or I might say the wrong thing and make things even worse. I don’t want to get Abeni into worse trouble because of my stupidity. So no, sir. I think I’d better shut up now.” Then she did.
Kijamon nodded at this and then turned to address his family. “If none will speak further,” he declared, “then, having heard the deeds of Abeni, son of this House, Kijamon, of House Kijamon, will now speak honor’s word.” Abeni drew himself up straight and raised his head to meet his father’s eye.
“Abeni. You were charged by my bond—at the behest of Mabundi, King of the Djin—along with your brothers, to see the Wagon of Tears upon its sacred journey. In this task, you were further charged to bear with you the bodies of two fallen kings: Jallafa of the Djin, and Grinyak of the Gnomileshi. Now you have returned to my House, with no brothers, and an empty Wagon, which you flung down upon us from out of the sky, riding it, clutching it with the bare of your hands, like one who would wrestle a common bear. Do you deny this?”
“No, honored father. Abeni does not deny these things.” Firelight from the forge glittered brightly in Abeni’s shame-filled eyes.
“Then I must judge in accordance with the laws of honor. Abeni, third son of Kijamon, of House Kijamon, I declare that the honor of this House has been most well served.” There was a musical “clink” as the iron band on Abeni’s arm twitched and transformed into silver, as the honor charm of House Kijamon completed its process, guided by the binder’s pronouncement.
Shock stood starkly on Abeni’s face as he looked down at the new band on his arm. When he looked back up, tears spill
ed down his enormous cheeks. “But Abeni does not understand… He has touched the Great Wagon in flight. He has ridden within its sacred chamber while he yet breathed. In so many ways has Abeni dishonored his duties. Abeni begs Kijamon. Do not compound these failures with those of a father’s blindness. Unsay these words and say those that must be said.”
Kijamon looked at his son fiercely, but Tayna quickly saw that it was the fierceness of pride. It was Shaleen who spoke. “Abeni, do you question your father’s wisdom?”
Tears still running down his face, Abeni shook his head. “Nor does Abeni question the heat of the sun, nor the wetness of the river.”
Shaleen nodded. “Then think upon what he has said. What you did, you did in the moment that action was needed. Do you think honor requires you to act with the wisdom of having hours or days to think upon your course, when the world offers you only moments to consider? Would that be honorable of honor?” Abeni stared at his mother as though she were offering him a rope to safety, but it was one that he could not see.
Kijamon sighed. “Look, boy. Now that the preachy words are over, I’ll put it plain. You got handed a slimy stick. Sure, you got a bit of it on your fingers, but you grabbed it, you hauled it in, and you delivered it to where it was needed.” The old man began to count on his fingers. “First, you delivered both kings to the Gnomes. A bit unusual in the how of it, but it got done, and it wasn’t an easy thing. Second, somebody bashed you on the head and stuffed you into that chamber. Soon as you woke up, you climbed out. Wasn’t anything more you could have done, and even then, you didn’t pack your hammers and head for home. You always were a rock head. Third, you saw signs of trouble with the Gnomes, you recognized them as important, and then you came straight back to report them. And doing all this, you never abandoned the Wagon or left it unwarded. At no time did you take the easy way of giving up, and each time, it seems to me you found creative solutions to sticky situations. If there is one thing that does House Kijamon proudly boy, it is creative thinking applied to difficult problems. Were it up to me, I’d have given you gold for this, but I knew you wouldn’t be able to accept that, so the silver stands. I will not compromise further.”
“But ours were not the hands of grief!” Abeni protested.
Kijamon rolled his eyes, and his wife burst out in laughter. “Oh no!” she said. “I knew that was going to backfire one day.” Abeni looked back and forth helplessly between his parents, so his mother shook the laughter from her face and tried to explain. “Oh, Abeni! You were all so young at the time. Little boys getting into little boy mischief. Your brother Zimu had taught Sarqi to practice his signs in the dirt, and Sarqi…” But she couldn’t finish, and burst out into a fresh spasm of laughter.
“Filthy little ninx,” Kijamon muttered. “Your brother Sarqi made a most unfortunate sign on the silver of a chamber. This big, with mud,” he said, holding his hands shoulder-width apart and smiling, despite his fatherly duty to be stern about such things.
“What symbol?” Abeni asked.
Laughter had stolen Shaleen’s air and she could barely get the words out. “The sign of the Void!”
“Can you imagine if we had reached the next town without noticing?” Kijamon chuckled. Tayna didn’t get the joke, but she smiled politely and tried not to look as confused as she felt.
Finally, Shaleen seemed to regain her composure. “You see? We had to think of something. We couldn’t risk that one of you might find some new mischief, one that escaped our notice until it was too late. So your father came up with that rule about the ”hands of grief,“ and it worked like a wonder. We never had a single problem with mischievous tampering again. So we began to teach the other Warders this rule as well.”
Abeni looked at her as though she had sprouted demon wings.
“Oh, don’t be so serious, Abeni! It is a good rule, but rules are there to guide us in our thinking—not to stop us from it. You touched the Wagon, but it carried no Seekers at the time, so what of it? And do you really think there are rules for how to respect the Great Wagon when you are flying in it? That is a new thing, my son. There are no rules. And if there will be any, it will be you and Tayna here who speak them.”
Abeni did not look completely convinced, but he no longer looked scalded either. Beside him, Zimu smiled and reached up to pull the brown kerchief from his arm. Earlier, he had explained that when two people involved in the same duty were to be judged independently, it was customary that those judged first should cover the sign of their judgment until the others in the group had been judged. Zimu was now revealing that he too had served the honor of his House. But where Abeni had done so with silver distinction, Zimu had apparently earned a mere copper. Satisfactory. Abeni opened his mouth to protest, but Zimu shook his head.
“It is correct,” he said. “I did not call the sprites. I did not vouchsafe the Wagon. I did not find and protect the Little Fish. I did as I thought best, but there was no great honor in my trials nor in their solving. Only competence.” Abeni opened his mouth to disagree, but Zimu simply shook his head once more, tightly. The message was clear. I’m okay with this. Please do not dishonor my satisfaction. Abeni closed his mouth and nodded to his elder brother.
Seeing that her son was going to be okay, Shaleen stood up and excused herself, coming back a moment later with a large pot, which she set on the edge of the forge to stay hot. Tayna could smell it, and her mouth could smell it too, watering in anticipation. Boh-cho.
“So you accept my judgment?” Kijamon asked, as Zimu dipped mugs into the steaming pot and began passing them around.
With one last look at his brother, who truly did seem untroubled by the situation, Abeni nodded cautiously to his father. “Abeni accepts these things. He is honored by the wisdom of House Kijamon. And perplexed by it also.”
“Ha! That’s the spirit, boy! Think sharply, act boldly, and speak plainly. That’s the way of this House!”
The boh-cho brought a welcome respite from the solemnity of Abeni’s honor ceremony, and Tayna relaxed as the family seemed to unwind. She was just beginning to relax herself when Kijamon set his mug on the hearth and clapped his hands. “And now we must attend another matter of honor,” he said. Then he turned to face Tayna with a grimace of distaste.
“We must deal with the crimes of the Little Fish.”
* * *
The uproar that followed was unexpected, with both Zimu and Abeni protesting loudly. “Who dares say such a thing?” Abeni roared. “He will answer to Abeni!”
“The Little Fish has committed no crime,” Zimu added, looking at his father curiously.
The Master of House Kijamon nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “But so the House has been petitioned, and so the claim must be examined.” Zimu nodded his understanding, but Abeni was still furious.
“Kijamon must not believe such a thing! The Little Fish has been an honorable and fast friend to Abeni. If not for her…” But it was Shaleen who calmed her son.
“Of course she has. We know this. Do you think your father such a dullard as that?”
That took the puff out of Abeni’s sails, and his shoulders sagged. “No. Abeni does not think Kijamon dull-witted.”
“Well, that’s a start,” his father said. “Now, can we commence with the matter before the family?” Abeni nodded, and held his tongue.
“There are actually two problems concerning the Fish-girl here,” Kijamon continued. “First, there is the matter of the Gnomes. Quishek came by this afternoon to speak a formal claim. King Angiron demands her return. She has been found guilty of crimes against the Horde and against the Gnomileshi Crown—” Abeni tried to interrupt again, but Kijamon fixed him with a glare and he backed down, allowing the old man to continue.
“Clearly, Quishek is within his rights to present his petition. The girl is unbound to any House and has taken shelter on stone held by House Kijamon. Without standing, she must be delivered to her accusers—”
“But Kijamon cannot—” Abeni sputtered,
but this time he was interrupted by a roar.
“SILENCE!” The fury in Kijamon’s face was there for only a brief moment before the old man composed himself, and then he brushed at his robe in apparent embarrassment for his outburst. “I’m sorry, boy. It’s not you I’m angry with. You have every right to defend your young friend, and more credit to you for doing so. But if you’ll let me finish, we’ll see what can be done, shall we?” Abeni let out a long breath and nodded.
“Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Without standing, she must be delivered to her accusers and bound over for honor court among them. But I find that there is a second matter, which according to the laws of this House, must take precedence and be dealt with before considering claims from outside the House.” Zimu and Abeni both looked up, with curiosity on one face and confusion on the other. Shaleen patted Tayna’s hand and smiled, but she said nothing, allowing her husband to continue.
“So, Little Fish,” he said. “There is a matter of honor between us that I would discuss with you now.”
“Um, okay,” Tayna replied, unsure where this was going.
“It has been reported that you have rendered a number of services in recent times—services that have made it possible for a son of this House to return, and to bring honor with him.”
“I guess so,” she said. “But he’s done way more for me.”
“And honor to him for doing so, but that is in a different valley. It is you who now stands before us, and it is you to whom House Kijamon owes a debt. I would ask a boon of you.”
Tayna grinned. “You owe me a debt, and now you want to ask me for a favor? Shouldn’t it work the other way around?” Abeni’s eyes grew wide that she would talk that way to Kijamon, but the old man merely chuckled.
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