The Healer’s Mantle

by Leigh Roberts

  The Healer’s Mantle

  Wrak-Ayya: The Age of Shadows Book Two

  Leigh Roberts

  Dragon Wings Press

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Please Read

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2019 Leigh Roberts Author

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, creatures, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, creatures, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  Editing by Joy Sephton http://www.justemagine.biz

  Cover design by Cherie Fox http://www.cheriefox.com

  Sexual activities or events in this book are intended for adults.

  ISBN: 978-1-951528-07-2 (ebook)

  ISBN: 978-1-951528-10-2 (paperback)

  Dedication

  For my readers, who haven’t lost the ability to wonder,

  What If?

  Chapter 1

  Icy winds blew across the High Rocks. In warmer months, the People mostly spent their days outside; planting, harvesting, hunting, and playing with offspring. But now winter had descended, and many of the People’s activities had moved inside. The cold months provided more time for socializing while the People worked in pleasant companionship on the tasks for which they did not have time during spring planting and late summer harvest. Most of these activities took place in the Great Chamber, the largest region of the cave system they called Kthama. It was here that shared events took place—meals, meetings, celebrations, rituals.

  * * *

  From his usual solitary table Khon’Tor, Leader of the People of the High Rocks, glanced across at the High Protector, Acaraho, who instead of sitting with his watchers and guards had been invited by Khon’Tor to join him.

  The two had finished eating and were discussing the distribution of tasks for the next few days. As their conversation wound down, Khon’Tor broached the subject of Whitespeak with Acaraho.

  “You have connections. If there is anyone who can help me with this task, it is you.

  “Adia believes the Waschini offspring should learn Whitespeak, and I have promised to provide for whatever training he needs. But I admit I have no idea how to provide a Whitespeak teacher.”

  When he invoked the sacred Rah-hora with Adia, the People’s Healer, Khon’Tor had promised to provide a way for Oh’Dar to learn Whitespeak, and she had agreed because she was firmly convinced that learning the language of his people was somehow critical to Oh’Dar’s future. As her repayment for this, Khon’Tor had demanded that Adia keep her silence about his brutal mating of her Without Her Consent.

  Therefore, Khon’Tor’s power, his reputation, his place as Leader of the People of the High Rocks—all the things that mattered to him—lay in Adia’s hands and therefore hung on his ability to find a Whitespeak teacher for the Waschini offspring.

  “I believe I know of someone,” said Acaraho. “I would be glad to make inquiries for you. However, I imagine this person would need to have considerable access to the offspring for some time. Arrangements would have to be made to compensate her and her people for taking her away from her normal day-to-day responsibilities.”

  It was Acaraho who had encouraged Adia to approach Khon’Tor with her request. He would not have done so without being confident he could meet this need for her, though, unaware of the extent of Khon’Tor’s act against Adia, the High Protector had no idea how distorted the response to her request had been.

  “Whatever it takes. Whatever you need to provide for this to happen, I will ensure it. You have my word,” replied Khon’Tor.

  Acaraho, not letting on that he already knew of Adia’s request, asked, “Have you spoken to the Healer about this? The teacher’s presence will most likely affect her daily activities as well as that of her Helper Nadiwani.”

  “I have not. But I know she will accept the offer. You may approach her once you have a better idea of the arrangements. Thank you, Commander.”

  If Acaraho had not believed that Khon’Tor was responsible in some way for Adia’s injuries, he might have allowed himself to trust the Leader—this Alpha alongside whom he had served for many years.

  * * *

  Khon’Tor frowned as he left the Great Chamber. Acaraho seemed to have no care in the world, which reminded Khon’Tor that he had even more to worry about than just finding a teacher.

  His mate, Hakani was with offspring by another male. He could not put her aside for fear she would broadcast that emasculating news, but neither could he endure her having the upper hand—and precisely because he could say nothing, her offspring would be his heir one day.

  He shook his head to clear it. One thing at a time. He was a driven Leader who thought nothing of taking advantage. Having dealt with Adia, he would be free to turn his mind to his troublesome mate. With the Healer encumbered by the Rah-hora, he would find a way to control Hakani, too.

  * * *

  The night Khon’Tor had announced that his mate was with offspring, Nadiwani and Adia had stayed awake, too wound up to sleep. They discussed Nadiwani’s ideas for Oh’Dar’s education. Now, knowing Khon’Tor was supporting whatever the offspring needed, the females added more to their list. At the top was the matter of teaching the offspring Whitespeak.

  * * *

  The next morning, Acaraho sent word to Adia that he wished to speak with her. Traditionally, no one was allowed in the Healer’s Quarters except with the Healer’s permission. Before Oh’Dar’s rescue, this had never been an issue but since then had become a fairly frequent occurrence.

  Acaraho was happy at the excuse to see her again; he knew she would be pleased about the Whitespeak teacher and smiled at the thought of her eyes lighting up at the news.

  Because Khon’Tor had removed Acaraho from her daily protection, he’d had to resort to overhearing pieces of news about her and Oh’Dar during the evening mealtime.

  The older females who enjoyed preparing food for others had an appreciative following made mostly of unpaired bachelors, paired males who did not live with their mates, and an occasional guard or watcher coming off duty. Acaraho now joined this group for its gossip if he was not sitting with Khon’Tor or First Guard, Awan.

  Now, at last, he would be able to see her face-to-face. Although no longer in his temporary capacity as her personal guard, in his role of High Protector, it was not a breach of protocol to address her directly.

  Adia sent a return message that he should come to the Healer’s Quarters. She felt her heartbeat flare at the thought of Acaraho’s visit. He had been a daily part of her life for some time, and she missed his comforting presence. Now she would be seeing him without the constraints of his assignment, which had kept him silent and removed. Now, they would be able to converse freely.

  And she had no idea what to say.

  * * *

  A web of tunnels spread out from Kthama’s Great Chamber, leading to living spaces and other smaller working and ga
thering areas. Some of the tunnels led to the lower levels where there were still more quarters of varying sizes. Living quarters were private, and many had a stone slab blocking the entrance, with a rock placed near the doorway that others could slam against it to request entry. Some simply had an open doorway. It was rude to enter another’s living quarters without an invitation, or even to glance inside while passing.

  Filled with anticipation, Acaraho approached Adia’s quarters. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and cracked the announcement rock on the stone door. In a moment, she was standing before him. He looked down at her, and her beautiful smiling eyes met his. It hit him again how attractive she was. “Hello, Adia,” he said softly. “It is good to see you again.”

  Their eyes locked together for a moment. Then he let his eyes trace the outline of her face, the curve of the dark hair flowing over her shoulders, her dark eyelashes.

  Seconds ticked by. Finally, Acaraho found the presence of mind to break the spell, “May I come in?” he asked, nodding toward the interior.

  “Of course. Of course, please,” said Adia, stepping out of the way so he could move past her into the room.

  Nadiwani was playing with Oh’Dar in the middle of the floor, and she looked up as Adia showed Acaraho in.

  “Hello,” she said warmly. “Today, we are working on Oh’Dar’s Handspeak vocabulary. He is learning the signs for some of the main plants we use in our medicines and healing powders. Ginseng, Goldenseal, Lavender, Willow Tree Bark—”

  Acaraho squinted at Nadiwani, “He is learning all that already?” he asked a bit incredulously.

  Nadiwani laughed, “No, not really. He understands Mama and eat, though. We are just having fun,” she chuckled.

  Acaraho smiled at Nadiwani then said to Adia, “I have been sent by Khon’Tor to make arrangements with you regarding a Whitespeak teacher for the offspring.”

  “Khon’Tor has found one?” she asked.

  Acaraho could not help himself. At seeing how happy she was, he had to let her know he was the source. “I know of someone at the Brothers’ village,” he continued.

  “But before I make the arrangements, I need to speak to you about what those might be. I am assuming that this teacher would have to spend a fair amount of time with Oh’Dar every day. This will impact your day-to-day activities.”

  “Is the person a male or a female?” asked Nadiwani, looking up from where Oh’Dar was busily making a mess of all the plants.

  “It is a female. She would have separate living arrangements, but she would be at your disposal otherwise for as much time as you need her. Again, I have not yet gone ahead because I wanted to speak with you first,” he reiterated.

  Finally, Adia recovered her senses.

  “Thank you, Acaraho,” she managed to get out, her voice almost stumbling at his name. “Whatever arrangements you have to make, please do so. Nadiwani and I will adapt; just let us know.”

  “Great news, yes?” Nadiwani was trying to break Adia out of her trance.

  “Yes. Absolutely,” replied Adia. She had heard brief mention that there might be a woman in the Brothers' village who had recently returned from being raised among the Waschini, but she did not know much more. It made sense that such a person would know Whitespeak. She walked with Acaraho back to the doorway and reluctantly closed the stone door behind him.

  * * *

  Not much escaped Acaraho; he was astute at collecting information from his surroundings. He had noticed Adia’s discomfort and was secretly pleased. Her eyes had widened when she saw him. Her lips had parted ever so slightly. He knew her heart rate was elevated—he could see her nervousness in how she held herself. He was pleased that his presence appeared to have the same effect on her as hers did on him. But Acaraho admonished himself the minute the thought surfaced.

  She is the Healer. She can never be paired. You are going down a path that promises only disappointment and heartache at the end of it. Get ahold of yourself. His brows knitted tightly together.

  The best I can hope for is a lifetime of unfulfilled daydreams and restless nights. But it’s too late. Even though I can never be with Adia as I want, I must find a way to get back into her life.

  * * *

  Both stood there for a moment—Acaraho on one side of the closed door and Adia on the other, each lost in their own thoughts—each registering but not wanting to admit how deeply the other affected them.

  Nadiwani had not missed a thing either.

  This promises disaster no matter how you look at it, she thought to herself. Perhaps it is best that Acaraho is no longer charged with her protection. They would do best to avoid contact with each other as much as possible.

  She shook her head. It is probably already too late. They have allowed a connection to develop between them.

  * * *

  Acaraho immediately sent word to Is’Taqa, Second Chief of the Brothers, that he wished to speak with him and the next day the High Protector was on his way.

  Is’Taqa was concerned about the news that Acaraho wanted to meet. He had plenty of time to think as he walked to the meeting place, approximately halfway between the two settlements.

  I wonder if this has anything to do with Khon’Tor’s attack on Adia. I wish I had never seen it. I respected Khon’Tor, and I had no idea he was capable of such an abomination.

  Is’Taqa had kept his silence other than confiding in his sister, the Brothers’ Medicine Woman, Ithua. The nature of Khon’Tor’s crimes, if known, would split the People and destroy any peace for generations to come. And to bring such charges against the greatest Leader of the largest community of Sasquatch in existence was to bring an end to the generations of goodwill between his people and theirs. They did not interfere in the affairs of each other’s tribes.

  “I have heard nothing to indicate that Adia has come forward about what Khon’Tor did to her,” Is’Taqa confided to Ithua. “I know she was conscious for the first blow; after that, I am not sure. Maybe she has no memory of it, or maybe she is keeping it secret for the same reasons I cannot come forward. Perhaps she is no more willing than I am to sacrifice so much, despite how despicable his crimes. A matter of this significance would be for the High Council to decide.”

  “In a war between our two people, there is no doubt who would be the victor. We are more agile, more dexterous. But they have a distinct advantage in size, strength, and numbers. If a conflict ensued, we would pay a high price,” she replied.

  Is’Taqa let out a deep sigh. “If and when Adia ever comes forward, I will speak up and bear witness to what I saw. But their culture is built on the predictable, the repeatable. They are many things, but adaptable is not one of them. Change comes slowly and hard for the Sasquatch.”

  He arrived at the appointed place in time for Acaraho’s arrival and heard him as the high brush and saplings were parted noisily down the incline.

  “Greetings,” called Is’Taqa across the distance.

  Acaraho raised his hand in acknowledgment.

  Though not exactly on a friend-to-friend basis, they were counterparts in their own tribes. They shared an understanding of the importance of order and structure and shared mutual respect and trust. Neither saw much benefit in altercation and believed the deterrents of a strong defense and good relations to be a better approach.

  Closing the distance between them, Acaraho found a place to sit.

  Is’Taqa imagined that because of his size, Acaraho sat to avoid any appearance of presenting an unfair advantage or creating an atmosphere of coercion. It is what I would do in his place.

  Acaraho began, “I know you are aware of the presence among the People of the Waschini offspring who was brought to us by the Healer, Adia. Khon’Tor has ordered that the offspring should learn Whitespeak and has sent me to ask your assistance.”

  Is’Taqa knew immediately of whom Acaraho was speaking.

  * * *

  Despite what the High Council had heard, and what Khon’Tor asserted,
not every Waschini was evil. Long ago, a group of them had passed through the Brothers' land. They wanted only to make passage and were gentle, wishing no one any harm. When one of the Brothers’ warrior scouts came across them, they were in terrible shape. Their supplies were depleted, and they were miles from their destination with little idea of how to make it the rest of the way. Many of them were sick from exhaustion and covered in cuts and rashes.

  The Brothers took all the Waschini under their care. Though not all of them survived, once the health of those who did had returned, the Brothers replenished the supplies and materials the travelers would need for the rest of their trip. But they had a long journey ahead and were ignorant of the difficult terrain they had yet to cross.

  Recognizing that without help they would most likely not survive, the Brothers sent one of their maidens with them as a guide, along with one of the braves for her protection. She was an exceptional scout and knew well the path they needed to take. As fate would have it, over the long hard journey, she and one of the Waschini fell in love. The maiden was torn as she loved her life among her people, but as ways of the heart go, she found she could not leave him. They soon married and produced a daughter. The brave returned with the news of what had happened.