“Vaxi,” Kelia said, stretching her arms over her head as she willed the stiffness out of her back muscles. “What is it?”
“I apologize for waking you, Protectress. One of the Council requests an audience.”
Kelia rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes, climbed to her feet and began removing the dirty clothes she's spent the last three days wearing. “Let me guess … your grandmother, right?” she asked with perhaps more sarcasm than Vaxi deserved.
Vaxi nodded, averting her eyes. “Yes, Protectress.” Though Vaxi kept her face expressionless, Kelia could tell the girl was troubled.
Every time Kelia saw Vaxi, she marveled at how much the girl had grown over the last few years. Tall, athletic, and muscular, Vaxi was one of the swiftest and most agile of the huntresses despite her young age. Not only did she bear a striking resemblance to her mother Ilora, she also possessed Ilora's compassion and affability.
It made Kelia sad whenever she thought about Ilora. They'd been bonded for only two years when Ilora died. Kelia had just taken over as Protectress, and had given birth to Nyla the year before. Had Ilora lived, Nyla and Vaxi would likely have been raised as sisters, but Susarra insisted that between Ilora's death and Kelia's time-consuming duties, Vaxi's upbringing should be her responsibility as her only living blood relative. Living under the same roof as her domineering grandmother had clearly taken its toll on her.
Figures Susarra would send Vaxi as her own personal messenger. She knows I'm far less likely to say no to Vaxi.
Kelia grabbed a clean tunic from its hook on the wall and pulled it on over her head, straightening it out so it hung loosely around her body in all the appropriate places. “Tell Susarra I will speak with her, and the rest of the Council, after evening meal. I have a great many things to attend to before then.”
“I will relay that message, Protectress.”
Kelia walked to her basin, scooping a handful of water from it with a ladle and pouring it into a cup before draining its contents, quenching a thirst she'd allowed to go unchecked during her vigil. Then she took another ladleful and leaned back, letting the liquid drip onto her face. Grabbing a small cloth next to the basin, she attempted to make her filthy face and hair a more presentable.
Silently vowing to make a trip to the cistern for a bath at the earliest opportunity, she turned to find the girl still standing there, her eyes cast to the ground. “Was there something else, Vaxi?”
“I was … I was just …” Vaxi looked up, staring vacantly out Kelia's bedroom window.
“Speak your mind, Vaxi, please,” Kelia said, crossing the room to stand in front of the girl. She noticed a large purple bruise on the girl's arm, but dismissed it. Hunting was the most dangerous duty an Ixtrayu could perform, and injuries were common among the huntresses.
Vaxi cleared her throat but didn't return the eye contact. “As you may know, Protectress, I am approaching my eighteenth birthday.”
“I am aware.”
“I was just wondering if … if there was any chance that Arantha …” Vaxi's willpower dissipated along with her voice.
This was a delicate subject, one that had been a constant matter of debate between Kelia and Susarra ever since Onara's pronouncement thirteen years ago. Kelia couldn't help wondering if Vaxi was bringing this matter up of her own volition, or whether it had been Susarra's idea.
Kelia put a hand on the girl's shoulder. “Vaxi, there will come a time when you will take your Sojourn, and when you do, I know you will bear a beautiful, strong daughter that will be a fine addition to the Ixtrayu. However, I regret that I cannot tell you when that time will be.”
The girl nodded resignedly. “I understand, Protectress.”
“Hey,” Kelia said, placing her finger under Vaxi's chin and lifting it so their eyes could meet again. “I know this won't bring you comfort right now, but I ask that you not let this trouble you. If Arantha, through her vessel Onara, decreed a halt to the Sojourns, then there must have been a reason for it.”
“But,” Vaxi said sheepishly, “you are Arantha's vessel now. Shouldn't you also know what that reason is?”
There it was. The question she'd been asked repeatedly since she became Protectress, and the one question she still couldn't answer. It always made her feel so helpless, so ignorant.
“Oh, if only it were as simple as that,” she responded, struggling to keep her face implacable. “Arantha's will is not always ours to comprehend, Vaxi. We mere mortals are not always privy to her designs. The duty of the Protectress is to interpret. Onara was certain discontinuing the Sojourns was necessary, and we cannot question her judgment, no matter how much we may disagree with it.”
“And … if Arantha decides that I never Sojourn?” A tear appeared at the corner of Vaxi's eye, and it was all Kelia could do to keep her heart from rending itself in two.
Kelia brushed a strand of Vaxi's hair away, placing her hands on both sides of the girl's face. “If that is your destiny, then we must accept it.”
“Yes, Protectress.”
Kelia gestured to the purple bruise on Vaxi's forearm. “Go see Lyala about your injury.”
“Yes, Protectress,” she repeated. Then, with a resigned nod and a respectful bow, she backed out of the room through the curtain. Kelia felt her heart grow heavy as she listened to Vaxi's footsteps fade away.
With a resigned sigh, Kelia slipped her feet into her well-worn kova-leather boots and made her way into the main room. Sensing nothing but dead silence from every other room in the house, she surmised that Liana must have taken Nyla for her daily lessons.
She strode through her doorway, blinking again in the light of the noonday sun. A whiff of roasting kova meat wafted past her nose, and she felt her stomach growl. Turning to her left, she quickly descended the stairs from her home, heading directly for the source of the smell.
* * *
Kelia was silent as she ate her midday meal across from Liana. On her plate were several strips of kova meat and two slices of riverfruit. She wondered whether a tribal leader should be seen wolfing down her food like an underfed chava, but she dismissed it. She was famished, and Liana was considerate enough to let her sate her appetite without engaging her in conversation.
Three dozen of the two hundred and seventeen Ixtrayu were trained as huntresses, and this was the time of year when herds of kova, numbering in the thousands, migrated across the Plains of Iyan on their journey down to the Southern wetlands. They were large, brutish animals, generally brown or black in color. They walked around on four thick, hooved legs, and their biggest weapons apart from their size and stamina were two curved horns that jutted from the sides of their heads. To an untrained huntress, they were quite formidable. However, they were as unintelligent as they were brutish, and though their size made them difficult to kill, it was worth the huntresses' efforts. Ten full-grown kova could feed the entire Ixtrayu tribe for a whole season. In the days since Kelia began her vigil, the hunt had been bountiful.
After cleaning her plate of everything but a few bones, Kelia straightened up and exhaled.
“Full yet?” Liana asked, smiling. “Or do I need to have Aarna carve you another slab?”
“This should suffice for now,” Kelia said before covering her mouth to muffle the belch that followed. “If I'd known I was going to be gone for three days, I would have brought a lot more food.”
“Well, I'm just glad you're back. Taking care of Nyla is starting to become more than I can handle.”
“She's not making trouble again, is she?”
“No, not trouble, she's just … bored. Like all girls are at that age. Too old to play childish games, too young to perform their duties unsupervised. All she has are lessons and training.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “At least she has Sarja.”
Following Liana's gaze, Kelia spotted Nyla at a table on the other side of the room. Her daughter wore a plain, light brown tunic, snug tan pants, and a pair of leather boots. Her hair, in contrast,
was exceptionally dark, almost black, a large strand of which hung in a straight line down the right side of her face, partially obscuring one of her hazel eyes.
Kelia was glad to see Nyla eating her meal with Sarja, the young daughter of her best friend Runa. Nyla and Sarja had been best friends since they learned how to walk, and she wondered, not for the first time, if their lifelong friendship would end up blossoming into a physical relationship. Also at their table was Vaxi, who appeared to still be in a dour mood despite Kelia's reassurances.
A young brown-haired woman wearing a loose tunic and a belt with many pouches rushed into the room. Kelia recognized her as Yadra, one of her cousins. She was clearly frantic and out of breath. After a few seconds, she spotted Liana and Kelia and ran over. “Gama! Protectress!” she panted. “I need to find Lyala! Have you seen her?”
“Why? What's wrong?” Liana asked.
“It's Talya! She's been hurt!”
Yadra and Talya, Liana's two granddaughters, were gatherers for the tribe. Most of their duties entailed regular trips to Lake Barix, the source of the river Ix, around which many plants and herbs grew that were essential to the Ixtrayu for culinary and medicinal purposes. It was a two-hour journey by chava to get there.
“What happened?” Kelia demanded.
“She was attacked … by a wounded lyrax. Her leg is cut up bad. Mother's with her right now. She needs the healer! Have you seen her? She's not at the apothecary!”
“Lyala was here not too long ago,” Kelia said. “She said she was going to her herbal garden under the eastern overhang.”
“I'll find her,” Liana said, rising to her feet. “Yadra, you run down to the stables and have Olma ready three fresh chavas. We'll join you there.” Then both Liana and Yadra turned to look at Kelia, silently asking for permission to depart.
“Go, both of you,” Kelia said. “Bring her home safely.”
They both nodded and ran from the room.
Kelia and the other Ixtrayu present watched them go. After a few moments, all heads returned to their meals and conversations. She noticed that Nyla, Sarja and Vaxi had already left.
If there was one thing that made Kelia feel even more helpless than being unable to adequately divine Arantha's wishes, it was discovering that one of her people had been hurt and knowing there wasn't anything she could do about it. The world was a dangerous place, and the Protectress' ability to protect only extended so far.
The rumble of conversation resumed just as Runa entered the dining area. She removed her bow and quiver, setting them right inside the entrance before heading to a serving table where several plates of cooked meat and fruit were laid out. Grabbing a small portion, she made her way over to Kelia.
“Welcome back, Protectress,” she said, sitting down in the seat Liana had just vacated.
Like their daughters, Runa and Kelia had been close friends since childhood. She was one of the tallest of the Ixtrayu, just over six feet tall, nearly five inches taller than Kelia herself. Her skin's hue was dark from a lifetime of being outside. Her legs were long and powerful, her senses were as acute as a non-Wielder's could be, and her dark brown eyes still bore a youthful exuberance.
Kelia had planned on getting more food, but after learning what just happened to Talya, her appetite had left her.
After a few moments of tense silence, Runa said softly, “I heard what happened. Talya will be fine.”
“I know,” Kelia replied, nodding glumly. “Lyala's an exceptional healer. She'll have Talya fixed up in no time.” Between the previous night's sighting, her upcoming meeting with the Council, Vaxi's despair, and now the attack against Talya, she wondered what else the day had in store for her.
“Of course she will,” Runa said, digging into a slice of meat. “Did you know Vaxi is responsible for today's meal?”
Grateful for the change of subject, Kelia met her friend's gaze. “Is she really?”
Runa nodded. “Her skill as an archer surpasses even my own. She felled the beast with one shot.”
Kelia smiled. “She is fortunate to have a great teacher.”
“Very true. She's every bit the huntress Ilora was. Maybe even better.” Her face became serious. “I worry, though, that Susarra may be pushing her too hard. Vaxi sometimes takes risks that often put her in danger during the hunt. When I chide her about it, she apologizes, says it won't happen again, but it always does. I don't want to be too harsh with her, given her situation, but …”
“I understand. Did you know Vaxi came to see me this morning?”
“Really?”
Kelia nodded. “She practically begged me to let her go on Sojourn.”
“Susarra's doing, no doubt.”
“No doubt.” Kelia idly ran a hand through her hair, which desperately needed washing. “I certainly don't wish to cause Vaxi further consternation. It would bring me no end of joy to be able to tell her, and all the Ixtrayu, that Arantha has decreed the Sojourns may resume. But I can't, because that is not what Arantha is showing me.” Kelia sighed, staring at her plate like the answers could be divined by the bones that lay on it.
Runa exhaled. “Kelia, forget for a moment what Arantha is or isn't showing you. You are, and always have been, the most logical person I've ever known. I know you got that from Onara.”
“Thank you.”
“It grieves me that Arantha hasn't given you the answers we seek. I worry that unless things change, I'm going to have to give Sarja the same news you gave Vaxi.”
Fifteen years earlier, a year before Kelia had embarked on her third Sojourn, Onara's health began to decline. Despite the healer's ministrations, her mother's strength waned a little more with each passing season. It eventually became clear that Onara was in the final weeks of her life, and Kelia, as the most powerful Wielder in the tribe, would soon succeed her.
One would have thought that Kelia's imminent succession would preclude her from undertaking any further Sojourns, but Onara proclaimed it was her destiny to produce a daughter and successor—-especially as her first two Sojourns had produced sons. The day Nyla was born, Onara stunned the tribe by announcing no further Sojourns would be taken … by anyone. Her spirit made the journey to the Great Veil soon thereafter.
“I worry that without answers, those supporting Susarra's notion that we resume the Sojourns without Arantha's approval will grow in number,” Kelia mused.
Runa arched an eyebrow. “You know, on days like today, I'm glad my duties are so simple compared to yours: go out, kill kova, come back. As long as I keep Susarra sufficiently well-fed, I never have to deal with her.”
Kelia rolled her eyes. “Want to trade positions? Just for one day?”
Runa gave her friend a look of droll amusement, and then laughed. “You? A huntress? I love you, Protectress, but you couldn't even catch a three-day-old nemza kitten with a lame paw.”
Kelia's mouth dropped open. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?”
Runa reached over and grasped Kelia's hand. Kelia noted, not for the first time, how strong her friend was. Even though she'd reached her fortieth year, she could still keep up with huntresses half her age. “Kelia, the Ixtrayu are your family. They respect and love you. Don't ever think otherwise.”
“I'll try.” Kelia popped the last slice of riverfruit into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “But with each girl I continue to deny the Sojourns too, the more difficult it becomes to justify my mother's decision.”
Runa stood and made a move to depart. “I'm afraid I must cut our conversation short. The hunt is to resume shortly.” She placed her hand on Kelia's shoulder. “I have faith in Arantha. But more than that, dear friend, I have faith in you.”
Kelia glanced up to see Runa smiling down at her. She gave a slight nod, and walked away.
* * *
A few minutes later, Kelia left the dining area and strode down a stone staircase, her booted feet making soft slapping noises as she descended. The staircase merged into a winding path run
ning alongside the River Ix, a freshwater stream meandering through the Ixtrayan Plateau. Her pace was deliberate, and though many of her tribe bowed to her as she passed by, she did not return the gesture as she normally did.
Runa was right: the Ixtrayu were her family, and the last thing she wanted was to be as standoffish as her mother was. Onara commanded respect with her every move, but her stern nature created a rift between her and the women she led. As a child, from the moment she knew she would succeed her mother as Protectress, she vowed to be more personable, to not set herself apart despite her title and abilities. Since Onara's death, she'd kept that vow.
Today, though, such pleasantries as acknowledging her people were the furthest thing from her mind. With everything currently occupying her thoughts, Kelia began to wonder if the chasm between leader and tribe was as inevitable as the changing of the seasons.
She reached the northern edge of the village, and was preparing to cross one of the bridges traversing the stream leading to the Council members' homes when she heard a high-pitched shriek. Turning her head, she saw a billow of smoke wafting up past the top of the plateau. More shouts sounded in the distance, and the acrid smell of scorched wood drifted past her nostrils.
Kelia cursed under her breath, retracing her steps and running down the path that led out of the village, toward the farmlands and fruit orchards.
What else can go wrong today?
Chapter Ten
“W atch this,” Nyla said, closing her eyes. Seated at her table in the dining area, Sarja and Vaxi kept their eyes focused on the wooden mug in front of her.
Nyla waggled her fingers, releasing her breath a little bit at a time. As the other girls watched, the water within the mug began to bubble, then to boil. Nyla opened her eyes and spread her hands wide, smiling triumphantly.
Sarja clapped Nyla on the back. “Wow, Ny, you've really gotten good at that.”
“Thanks. Guess all those boring lessons are paying off.”
Pawns (The Wielders of Arantha Book 1) Page 5
