by Bridie Blake
She hadn’t had time to say her goodbyes to Nika. Would he be wondering where they had run to? Would he be waiting with his tribe to stand beside her when they were ready? The thought of fighting alongside him brought a thin smile to her lips. He had taught her everything she knew with her weapons, and she would want him by her side when the time came.
She yawned and stretched out in her bedroll, trying to ease the pains in her body from days spent in the saddle. She hugged Tilaw to her, needing his warm body to sooth the uneasiness she felt. The normal night sounds that she used to find so comforting were now getting on her nerves. The gentle chirping of the crickets, the soft hooting of the owls and the rustling of the leaves. She wanted to tell them to be quiet so she could keep an ear out for any sign of danger. Not that she didn’t trust Keane, who had taken the first watch, but she felt like it was her duty to keep these people safe.
She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. In and out, just like Mother Chennai had told her to do. She pushed the sounds to the back of her mind and tried to listen for anything out of the ordinary. She heard Darby’s snores and Thara’s murmurings. Tilaw’s stomach was gurgling. The rabbit he’d eaten for dinner had unsettled him. She pushed those away. The sound of a foot stepping lightly on the ground and then a pause. She heard the foot shift as the person grappled with something. And there it was. The stringing of a bow again. But it wasn’t just one. She heard at least twenty.
Her eyes flashed open and she jumped to her feet, grabbing her sword so quickly that she startled Chae awake. He looked at her quizzically but she held a finger to her lips.
“We’re surrounded,” she mouthed.
He rose and unsheathed his sword, gently nudging Madoc awake as he did.
And then she saw them. The arrowheads were directed at them. She looked past the threat and found herself staring into a pair of hard, black eyes.
Thara screamed as a Kalaowin man approached her. Bhatia grabbed her and positioned herself in front of the frightened girl. The man watched them, his head tilted to the side. Then he nodded and called forward one of his patrol. It was a woman, a spear in her hand. She pushed the two girls forward, trying to force them all into a huddle.
They were all being shouted at in Kalaowin. Tempani, Chae and Madoc were trying desperately to translate to the others.
“Drop your weapons,” Madoc told their friends.
The men hesitated. As Tempani had expected them too. They had committed to this job and were prepared to protect her until their last breath.
“Do it,” Tempani hissed. “We will not fight them.” She threw her sword to the ground to emphasize her point.
They slowly followed suit, Rando being the last to throw his sword aside. The Kalaowins, a mix of men and women, rushed forward and gathered the discarded weapons. Tempani watched them closely. They were no ordinary patrol. They moved with a purpose. They were quick and soundless. These were seasoned fighters.
A man stepped forward, his face covered in tattoos and his black hair pulled back into a long tail. His eyes were cold, and they stared directly at Tempani. She stared back, desperate to show him she wouldn’t cower before him. She was a Kalaowin female, which meant she was not inferior to him.
Zadi stepped closer to her, shouldering her way between Tempani and the man. The man raised his eyebrows slightly and a knowing look flashed across his face. He issued an order, and they were prodded to start walking.
Tempani didn’t move. “We’re not leaving our horses,” she said slowly in Kalaowin. “Or our supplies,” she added quickly as she thought of all the medicines they’d brought from the convent.
The man glared at her. Tilaw growled and lunged forward to nip at his bare feet. He swore loudly and jumped back. Someone in his patrol sniggered. The man snarled at him, and he lowered his head, ashamed to be reprimanded by the man.
He barked an order to his patrol, and they moved quickly and gathered the group’s horses and supplies. Then they were prodded and forced forward, deeper into the mountain ranges and away from the stream that had guided them this far. Tempani took the lead, determined to show no fear. But on the inside her nerves were a mess. She just hoped the Shiasa would listen to her.
Darby hobbled along, his cane scraping across the rocks, as Chae and Dahlia supported him. Sweat poured down his face and into his beard.
“We need a break,” Dahlia whispered, keeping her voice low despite their inability to understand Kamari.
Darby shook his head. “We must not show any signs of weakness,” he replied. “The Kalaowins are strong. Warriors. They will not respect us if we stop.”
“But they’ll respect us if we die?” Bhatia panted. “This is ridiculous.” She tried to push past Tempani to reach the man in charge.
“What are you doing?” Tempani hissed.
Bhatia glared at her. “We need water. Some of us aren’t made for trekking through the mountains for half the day.”
Tempani nodded. “I’ll ask.”
She strode up to the man. “Metber,” she said, using the Kalaowin word for ‘excuse me’. She proceeded to tell him they were tired and in need of water.
He stared at her, his eyes unmoving, and he pointed forward. He wasn’t going to allow them a break.
She felt her anger rising and closed her eyes to calm her emotions. She felt a smooth hand take hers and opened her eyes to find Dahlia’s kind gaze on her.
“I tried,” she said.
Bhatia groaned. “Are you a sorceress or not?”
Tempani gave herself an internal kick. Yes, she was a sorceress. And she should have thought of it sooner.
She raised her face to the cloudless sky and took a deep breath, summoning the calm at the back of her mind that resembled the water she loved so dearly. It was where her mind went whenever she needed a sense of peacefulness. There it was, simmering gently as it always did. It reminded her of happier times on Amarill, her family whole and undamaged.
The clouds slowly gathered above them, bringing with them the sweet smell of promised rain. She inhaled deeply, allowing the scent to consume her. A droplet fell gently onto the tip of her outstretched tongue. She giggled and opened her mouth wider as she used more force to release the rain.
“Drink my friends,” she said as she wiped her mouth dry.
They laughed and tilted their heads back in amazement. Dahlia squealed with delight as her mouth filled with fresh water.
Their guard came to a halt and pointed to the sky, their faces puzzled. A few of them were impressed and held their hands out to catch the droplets.
The tattooed man whirled around and descended upon Tempani, his eyes flashing dangerously.
She squared her shoulders and glared back at him, not daring to show any sign of weakness in front of him. Kalaowin women were warriors too. And she was Kalaowin.
“My friends were thirsty,” she snapped. “When they are ready, we will continue.”
Something flickered across his face. Was it respect? Whatever it was, it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. He hissed at her and then turned his back on them, waiting to move out when they were ready.
She smiled thinly at Darby as he hobbled over to her and accepted his thanks with a wave of her hand.
“You should be proud of yourself,” he said. “You certainly impressed your mother’s people.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Not everyone is happy with our brief shower.” She nodded towards the man’s back.
“Yes, but your skill here will be reported to the Shiasa,” he said. “And she will respect the strength you have shown.”
“Do you think it will help our cause?”
“We can only hope,” he said. “For now we should keep moving. The longer we rest, the harder he’ll make the trek.”
They walked on through the night. Fatigue invaded their bodies as they trudged over the hard ground. Tempani stumbled and was caught by Rando’s strong hands. She flashed him a small smile and pushed on, despite the graz
e that now burned her arm.
The sun was slowly rising when they reached an opening in the mountains. A vast clearing lay at their feet, scattered with tents of all sizes. Men and women were already hard at work, gathering fire wood and carrying piles of clothes down to the stream. Children laughed and ran amongst the adults.
Tempani’s eyes widened as she took in the sight. The men were dressed in breeches torn just below the knees, their upper bodies bare. The women wore dresses that barely covered the thigh. Both men and women had knives sheathed to their thighs within easy reach, bows slung over their shoulders.
Horses walked freely among the people and cows grazed on the grass. The cries of the goats carried across the clearing as young boys and girls herded them up the mountain.
They all stopped their morning tasks when they saw the approaching group. The children stopped laughing and hid behind their father’s legs, their curious faces peeking through. Tempani smiled at them, thinking them sweet. One girl, no more than seven or eight, frowned at her and then spat on the ground.
Tempani recoiled. Maybe not so sweet after all.
“You wait,” the man with the tattooed face snapped in Kamari before he walked away.
Tempani raised her eyebrows. So he understood them after all. She kicked herself for being so ignorant.
People stood watching them, their voices whispering, their eyes fixed on Tempani. She found herself trembling as the man reappeared and barked at them to follow. Chae and Madoc inched closer to Tempani. She wanted to tell them not to bother. Right now she wasn’t special. They were all in the same position.
The group was led through the crowd of gathered onlookers, excitement evident on some faces. Perhaps they were looking forward to their murder. She sent a prayer up to the Goddess that Darby could talk their way out of this one.
They reached the largest tent and came to a halt, and Tempani knew they had been brought to the Shiasa and she would decide their fate.
The man pushed open the tent and pointed to Tempani. “Come.” Chae and Madoc stepped forward with her, but he held out his arm to stop them. “Just her.”
“Not happening,” Madoc growled, his fingers instinctively reaching towards his now empty sheath.
A voice carried through the flap. It was an order. “Bring them.” The man scowled but obeyed. They stepped forward, but Tempani hesitated. She turned to Darby, wanting her old friend by her side. Wanted his voice of reason in that tent with her.
He shook his head. “It is not a place for me,” he whispered.
She swallowed and followed the others inside.
“You bow,” the man barked.
They obeyed and followed the Kalaowin ritual of crossing their arms against their chests and bending over as low as they could, while the man retreated into the corner and planted his spear at his side.
A deep, croaky voice spoke slowly in Kalaowin. Tempani whipped her head around trying to locate the woman, but she saw nothing beyond her own outstretched hand. She glanced at Chae, but he showed no sign of panic. Nor did Madoc. She blinked her eyes a few times, but it changed nothing. The room in front of her was still shrouded in darkness. She felt a tickle in her head, like there was something snaking across her mind. She shook her head and felt herself forcing it out.
There was a cackle and then the darkness faded, and she found herself staring into the black, beetle like, eyes of the Shiasa. “Your magic is great, young one.”
“That was you,” Tempani whispered. “In my mind.”
She cackled again. “Your intentions here are blocked from me. Protected. Why?”
Tempani’s throat was dry. She tried to swallow but to no avail. Just speak the truth. Mother Chennai had yet to steer her wrong.
“I mean you no harm,” she stuttered. “I come to seek your help to unite our people.”
“My people are united.”
Tempani shook her head, trying to find the right words. “Our kingdom needs to stand as one. No more bloodshed.”
“Then tell your king to stop hunting my people.”
“Our people. I belong to you too.”
The black eyes, almost lost in the folds of her wrinkled skin, hardened as they glared at Tempani. The Shiasa rose from her spot on the ground and hobbled over to her. Tempani was surprised to see how small the powerful woman was, her hunched shoulders making her even shorter. Her hair was pulled back in a braid and coiled around her head like a crown.
Standing two feet behind her was an old man, his long gray hair falling to his waist. His eyes remained on Tempani as he moved in unison with the Shiasa. She held his gaze, and the realization hit her, like a punch to the gut, when she saw the markings just below his right eye.
The old woman stopped in front of Tempani and spat on the ground. Tilaw growled and bared his teeth. Tempani hadn’t realized he’d followed them in. She lowered her hand and rested it on his head. Calm down, she thought to him. I don’t want to make her angrier.
The Shiasa watched this exchange with curious eyes. “You speak to your dog.”
Tempani bowed her head, blushing because she knew it seemed silly that she did, but she felt that Tilaw understood her.
The Shiasa flicked her eyes to the man who’d brought them in and gave the slightest nod of her head. He stepped forward and ushered them out. They joined the rest of their group and were led back through the crowd.
“What happened?” Darby muttered to her as he was pushed along.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe we’re being sent off to the slaughter now,” Madoc whispered.
“We’re not dying,” she snapped and stopped walking. She ignored their protests and stepped out of the line, shaking off Madoc’s grip on her arm.
The man who led them shouted at her to get back in line. To keep walking.
“No,” she said.
He advanced on her, his spear raised. She knew that if he wanted to he could take her down in a heartbeat, but he wouldn’t.
“Tempani!” Dahlia pleaded.
“He won’t kill me, will you?” She asked the man.
He stepped closer to her. His wiry muscles tensed as he swung his spear at her. She sidestepped it. He swung again but this time she ducked and brought her leg around to kick him on the back of his knees. He hadn’t been expecting it and fell to the ground. She knew it had been a lucky hit and that if he’d thought she would try to fight he would have protected himself. She stood over him and lifted his chin up so their faces met.
“Tell the old woman it’s not polite to spit at her granddaughter’s feet.”
The Shiasa cackled. The old man stood behind her. “You’re not as stupid as you look.”
Tempani glared at her briefly before looking at the old man. “Niski,” she breathed and walked slowly towards him. She reached her fingers out and traced the tattoo under his eye. Hamalia. He grinned and pulled Tempani into his embrace, crying softly as he patted her hair.
“Pala,” he said repeatedly. My love in Kalaowin.
“Niski?” She heard Colbert ask behind them.
“It means grandfather,” Chae said slowly as he walked over to them. “They’re our grandparents.”
Their niski offered his arm to Chae and he stepped into the embrace. He held them firm for a few moments, kissing each of their heads repeatedly. When he released them he wiped the tears from his eyes.
“You’ve come home,” he croaked.
The Shiasa hobbled away barking orders at people as she did. “Find them tents,” she yelled.
“Your niska is happy to see you,” he said. “Even if she doesn’t show it.”
Tempani rolled her eyes. “She spat at me.”
“Losing Hamalia was tough on her,” he explained.
“It was tough on all of us,” Chae said.
“Yes, but your niska lost her twice. When she chose your father she was lost to us. Shut out by the tribe.”
“Because she fell in love?” Tempani asked incredulously.
“She chose him over her duty to our people,” he sighed. “I am old. I must rest.”
They were given tents as far from the Shiasa’s tent as possible, on the edge of the camp. They each went about their own tasks soundlessly but sticking close together. Thara stayed hidden in her tent, and Tempani felt bad for the woman. It must be hard for her being surrounded by all the men in the group and now the tribe. And on top of that they were all being watched. They felt the eyes following their every move. Word had spread quickly that they were the Shiasa’s grandchildren but what Tempani found even more unsettling was that they didn’t stare at Chae. They stared at her. And very openly.
She grabbed Mincha’s reins and led her down to the river. She settled herself against Mincha’s leg as the mare helped herself to a drink. She had often thought about her mother’s family. How they must have felt when she married Otto. But to think that she was completely disowned by them, shunned by her tribe, was heartbreaking.
Hamalia had taught her children the language and ways of their people and had spoken so fondly of her father, Yapa. But she hadn’t mentioned her mother, Eriluz much. It was Yapa who looked after her and her brother, Helio.
And to think this entire time her grandmother was the Shiasa. This idea that Tempani had fabricated in her mind of a strong, kind leader had dissipated the moment she had met the cranky old woman. She felt cheated. She had wanted to think of her mother’s people as being able to do no wrong. A child’s fantasy perhaps, but one she’d held onto. But the Shiasa’s refusal to help, to even acknowledge that she was herself a Kalaowin, was like a knife in the heart.
How was she going to convince a woman so set in her ways that she couldn’t see beyond her own prejudices?
“Of course,” she said aloud.
She heard a soft chuckle behind her. “I wondered if you would work it out on your own,” Darby said and sat beside her. “By all rights you are the next leader of your people.”
“So I just have to wait for the old witch to croak?”
“I wish it were that simple,” he said. “When Hamalia was disowned, she was also disinherited. Stripped of her right to the leadership, which means her daughter also has no right.”
