The Healer’s Mantle

by Leigh Roberts

  “Acaraho please,” she said, “No one is sorrier about this than I. But I cannot. I cannot—” and her voice trailed off.

  Acaraho remembered the Rah-hora. Now he understood—though how Khon’Tor had extracted this silence from Adia, he did not know. Whatever she had received as her part of the deal, and he was sure it was the Whitespeak teacher for Oh’Dar, it was not enough. It was brutally unfair and beyond the pale.

  The female I love was attacked and violated by the so-called honored and respected Leader of the People, Khon’Tor. And she is left to bear the shame alone, shame which should not be hers at all. She is innocent but unable to defend herself with the truth. I do not know what is going to happen, but I know one thing for certain. At some point, I will have Khon’Tor to myself, at my mercy, pinned on the floor in front of me, with his throat between my bare hands. And at that point, there will be no mercy for him whatsoever.

  “I can say no more, Acaraho. Please. There is so much I want to say to you—you are the only—” she said, reaching out toward him.

  Acaraho had gained sufficient control over himself now to where his anger was manageable.

  “I understand enough, Adia. I hope he will be held accountable, but I will follow your lead. However, do not expect me to be less than who I am. Make no mistake. Someday it will be him and me alone, and nothing you or anyone else can say will stop me from extracting payment for what he has done to you.”

  She did not doubt for one second that he meant what he said, or that he was capable of carrying it out.

  There was nothing else for Adia to say. She started to leave, but as she passed him, Acaraho took her arm and pulled her close. He towered over her, and she looked up into his eyes. Her breath caught as she felt his gaze pierce directly into her soul. Despite the anguish of the situation, the desire to reach up and press her lips to his was excruciating.

  “Thank you for telling me yourself,” he said. Adia nodded, and he released her.

  As she was almost through the door, he said, “Adia. Does he know?”

  Without turning back, Adia answered, “Not yet.”

  * * *

  Acaraho stayed in the room after she left. Everything was in shambles. He spent a few moments putting it back together as best he could. The rock slab of the table had split in two when it slammed against the wall; there was no repairing that. He could not think of an explanation and had to let it go. Hopefully, no one would know it was they who had used the room, and the mystery of how the table had been broken would just become more fat to be chewed. Chewed in the mandibles of speculation and gossip that were about to start grinding at a level never before seen in Kthama.

  * * *

  Very slowly, Adia walked back to her quarters. She needed time to process what had just happened. Somehow Acaraho had figured out the truth. But how? Had she spoken in her fevered state? Had she mumbled something? How did he know? How long had he known?

  She had wanted to tell him he was right. More than anything, I wanted Acaraho to hear from me he was right—that Khon’Tor did this terrible thing, that it was not of my choosing, that he did it Without My Consent.

  But she could not. As much as she wanted Acaraho to know for certain, she could not say it, and she had almost said too much as it was.

  For now, she was still committed to keeping secret what Khon’Tor had done. It was not just the Rah-hora—she had not thought about that for some time. It was about the destruction to the community that would happen in a war over this with Khon’Tor. She knew he would never admit to it. It would be her word against his, and the result would destroy the peace and harmony among her people for the foreseeable future and perhaps beyond.

  As if it was not enough that to spare the People she had to bear in silence what Khon’Tor had done to her, now she had to endure the public shame of being with offspring, unable to offer any defense. And at the moment, she saw Khon’Tor for what he was—not a great Leader, but a callous, self-centered despot. Someone who could do such things to her, leave her to die, and then when she did not, leave her to bear the shame of his wrongdoing. He was not the great Leader she had thought him to be. And she grieved the loss of her belief in him as much as anything else.

  Her earlier thoughts solidified. All offspring need a positive male role model. I will talk to Khon’Tor tomorrow about a mentor for Oh’Dar.

  Things had changed and the fact that had made her sad before—that her offspring would never know who his father was—now comforted her.

  When Adia made it back to her quarters, she was glad for the distraction of Nadiwani, Honovi, and Oh’Dar. Honovi was occupied with Oh’Dar, so Adia joined Nadiwani in sorting the baskets of harvest they had not gotten to as yet. She was glad for the relatively mindless work. She was emotionally drained and did not want to think anymore. Tonight, when she could have quiet time with her thoughts, she would let herself think about the day’s events, and just this once, let her thoughts dwell on Acaraho.

  * * *

  Acaraho did not know what to do with himself. With the feelings still raging inside him, he could not go back to his quarters—not yet. He made his way back down the maze of tunnels and out through the Great Entrance into the wintry cold. The stinging icy wind felt good on his face. He followed the path away from the entrance and down to the forest floor. He was still seething inside. He had to find some release before he could go back to Kthama. And he could not risk running into Khon’Tor tonight before regaining control of himself.

  Picking up the nearest fallen log, Acaraho hurled it against the trees standing nearby, watching it splinter into a thousand pieces with a satisfying series of cracks. He uprooted a young tree and easily tossed it into a nearby cliff wall, causing a landslide of loosened stones and rocks. Boulders, more trees, whatever he could find to take the brunt of his anger. He was sick at heart over what Khon’Tor had done to Adia, what the Leader had taken from her. Without Her Consent. It was despicable. He could not let himself think of it in any detail because it enraged him so. What would drive Khon’Tor to do it? What would drive any male to do that?

  Acaraho pictured the setting in which they had found Adia. As they approached, he had taken the time to memorize every detail. He remembered the copious amounts of blood everywhere.

  There were aspects of the scene that were not natural—the position she was lying in for one. The locket curled up in her open palm. If someone fell and hit their head, even if they remained conscious for a while, they would not naturally continue to clasp an object. And if by some bizarre chance that had happened, the fact that it was lying neatly in the center of her open hand—as if to ensure it would be found—was in no way a natural occurrence.

  He remembered giving the locket to Is’Taqa when he lifted Adia to carry her back to Kthama. He also remembered how Adia had grasped it with relief when Is’Taqa returned it to her.

  Acaraho went over the events of the night. Awan coming to tell him they did not know where Adia was. Arriving at the Great Chamber to see Khon’Tor and Akule talking. Is’Taqa showing up, agitated and frantic, telling them she had fallen and hit her head.

  Akule.

  I am in charge of all the guards and watchers. Akule was not posted in the Great Chamber that night. In fact, Akule is not a guard at all; he is a watcher. I had assigned Kajika to that post. Only Khon’Tor, the First Guard, and I have the authority to change duty assignments. Perhaps I should talk to both Kajika and Akule, very cautiously.

  Without involving Adia, Acaraho wanted to find out as much as he could about what had happened. I respect her right to handle this as she wishes, but I am not going to stand by forever and let Khon’Tor get away with this. At some point, justice will be served if I have to deliver it myself.

  As Acaraho finally made his way back up the hill to Kthama, he reaffirmed that he had to get back into her life. He had planted the seed with Khon’Tor, and now he must wait for the opportunity to present itself. He knew that tomorrow he would no doubt see Khon’T
or. He had the rest of the night to get himself under control so he could conceal his bitter disgust from the Leader.

  * * *

  Finally.

  Nighttime and the peace of the dark had arrived. Alone on her sleeping mat, Adia let her thoughts return to the events of earlier. She replayed each moment, each feeling. How Acaraho had figured out what had happened, she did not know. She knew he was astute; she knew there was very little that escaped his attention.

  Then she remembered his violent reaction. It had frightened her at first, thinking he was angry with her. An angry Sasquatch presents a terrifying spectacle, even to another. And Acaraho was capable of tremendous strength. He tossed the table slab across the room against the far wall as if it were nothing.

  If he had not caught her so unawares, she would have been in awe of the impressive display of raw power.

  She remembered Acaraho’s statement that at some point, Khon’Tor would be held accountable. She shuddered to think of that day. There was nothing she could do to stop Acaraho. He and Khon’Tor were almost identically matched in size and strength, but she had no doubt Acaraho would be the victor. She knew the rage Acaraho felt over what Khon’Tor had done would give him the full advantage. She did not enjoy the thought of the two powerful males engaged in battle but did feel oddly pleased that Acaraho was so protective of her.

  Mostly she was relieved that the conversation was done, and deeply grateful that he did not hate her. It would have been unbearable if he had turned against her, as she had feared. The hurt look she envisioned in his eyes had never appeared. That told her there was not even a moment when he thought she had chosen another. She was so happy that he knew her well enough to realize it.

  So many things I want to tell him, so much in my heart that I will never be able to say. If I were not the Healer, he would be the one, the only one I would ever choose. I am trapped now in this nowhere place of longing forever. Unable to claim him and unable to let him go.

  She still had not decided how to tell Khon’Tor that he had seeded her, but she had decided to approach him about a mentor for Oh’Dar. With luck, with the Mother’s help, she would get that settled before the fruit of his attack on her showed.

  * * *

  Adia busied herself with Nadiwani over the next few days. But finally, it was time. Nadiwani had a full day of work planned, for which she said she did not need Adia’s help. Since Nadiwani did not need her, she decided she would approach Khon’Tor about Oh’Dar that morning. After they shared their morning tea and Honovi arrived to take over Oh’Dar, Adia went to find him.

  It took her a while to locate Khon’Tor, and she finally asked one of the guards where he might be this early. She doubted he would still be in his quarters; however, there was no way she was going to look. She did not want to be alone with him there, and if there was anyone she did not want to see, it was Hakani. She still did not know why Hakani hated her so. Perhaps she would never know, but she had tired of trying to figure it out.

  Instead of being in the meeting room he had recently appropriated, Khon’Tor was in the Great Chamber. As she entered, she could see him at the far end, talking with several of the other males. The closer she got, she could make out Awan who was First Guard, and—Acaraho. It was too late to turn back; they had seen her, and it was clear she was coming toward them—to change her trajectory now would be too obvious.

  It felt as if it took her forever to cross the floor to get to them. She made sure she kept her eyes off Acaraho. She wondered what he was thinking, how he was handling having to talk to Khon’Tor as if he did not know what the Leader had done.

  The males opened their circle as she approached. She nodded at them in greeting and said, “Khon’Tor, when you have a moment, I would like to speak with you.”

  “We are in the middle of discussing assignments and some related problems. Can we not speak here, in this place?” asked Khon’Tor. Adia decided that might go in her favor, so she agreed, and he motioned her over to a sitting area.

  To Adia’s consternation, Acaraho and Awan walked with them. She wondered if anyone else could tell how tightly under control Acaraho was holding himself.

  She started with the customary niceties. “Thank you for your time, Khon’Tor. And thank you for your commitment to helping Oh’Dar become part of the People. I am also very appreciative that you brought Honovi of the Brothers here to teach him Whitespeak.”

  Khon’Tor stared at her.

  Receiving no reaction from him, she continued.

  “I know there are limits to how much I can expect Oh’Dar to fit into our community. I do not have unreasonable expectations of that. He will always be Waschini, and he will always be an Outsider. He is making good progress, though, under Honovi’s instruction,” she added, to keep herself talking.

  “I realized the other day, however, that Oh’Dar is being raised entirely in the company of females. And even though he will never be one of the People, there are some common threads among all of us—the People, the Brothers, and the Waschini. We all seem to share a similar division of roles between males and females,” she continued.

  “In a normal situation, Oh’Dar would have contact with another man. Usually, there is a male in the family unit, whether it be the father or even an uncle, to provide a male role model.

  “Someone is going to have to teach Oh’Dar, show him what it means to be a man, Waschini or otherwise. I have no family here to provide this, no brothers; I left everyone I knew when I came here. So I am asking for a mentor for him. Someone who is of good character, patient, who can teach him skills, values, the laws. I know it is a lot to ask of anyone.”

  She finally got it out, much to Khon’Tor’s relief.

  “Are you asking me to assign someone to this, Healer, or are you looking for volunteers?” he asked. Before he could say anything else and before Adia could answer, Acaraho stepped forward just the slightest bit.

  “I volunteer, Khon’Tor. I would be willing to take the Waschini boy under my tutelage,” he said.

  * * *

  Khon’Tor was always on edge whenever Adia was around—even more so since the incident, as he preferred to think of it. Is that all she wants? he wondered. Someone to mentor the White PetaQ?

  He turned to Acaraho and raised his eyebrows. He did not have to think twice about this. He wanted to find a way to insert Acaraho back into Adia’s day-to-day activities, and this was the perfect opportunity. Khon’Tor did not know how Acaraho was going to balance this with his other responsibilities, but he did not particularly care, either. After all, the other males found the time. It suited his purposes, and he could not have been happier at that moment.

  “I have no problem with that, Acaraho; Adia?” He looked at the Healer. Then, to increase the pressure, he added, “You will not find a better choice than Acaraho. And no other male here has the skills or possesses the character of the High Protector,” he threw in just for good measure.

  * * *

  A feather could have knocked Adia over. This she had not expected; this she had never anticipated. She knew she could not refuse Acaraho. There would be absolutely no reasonable excuse for it. Khon’Tor was right; there was no better role model than Acaraho. The seconds were ticking by, and Adia did not have time to figure this out right now. They were waiting for an answer. The obvious answer was yes, and the longer she took to get the words out, the stranger it would look. Any female would jump at the chance to have Acaraho as a role model for their son—or anything else, she thought.

  “That would be fine,” said Adia lamely. Oh, far too lukewarm a response. So she shook her head and added, “That would be great. Thank you both so much. We can work out the details later. Acaraho, I know you also have many other responsibilities. —I will be grateful for any time you can give,” she added.

  Rising, she nodded to them all, being very careful not to let her gaze linger on Acaraho, and took her leave.

  Adia did not know who she had in mind when thinking of find
ing a mentor for Oh’Dar, but she had thought there would be time to identify some suitable candidates. She had thought it would take a while to find someone because it would be a draw on whoever’s time and was a lot to ask. Also, Oh’Dar was still only a very young offspring. She had been trying to gain Khon’Tor’s promise for later down the road, and she had certainly not expected to walk away with a commitment.

  Acaraho. He is not paired. He is precisely what Khon’Tor said he is—there could be no better choice. She knew he was capable of great kindness and great wisdom. It was a joy and a heartache every time she saw him. She was already having trouble reigning in her thoughts of him. And now he would be even further entrenched in her life. She would have to be around him on an ongoing basis except now he would not be standing against the wall as a Protector, never participating. Now he would be spending time with Oh’Dar, talking to her about what to teach him as he grew, perhaps the two of them would even laugh together over the funny things the offspring did or said.

  Something was going on outside of Adia’s volition, and she was doing her best to keep up and hang on. I feel as if I am being swept down a path, and the feeling only grows stronger as time passes.

  For the next few days, Adia buried herself in her work as Healer. She focused on cleaning and sorting the leaves, roots, stems, and other parts of the plants collected during the harvest. She kept herself busy—so busy that at night she fell asleep exhausted, with no time to think of anything else. It was as if she were running through the days—but to where? Or to what?

  Chapter 4

  Time was running out.

  Adia needed to tell Khon’Tor. All the cleaning, sorting, and categorizing is not going to change anything. The longer I let it go, the harder it gets, she thought.