Eyebrows rose as the members of the panel exchanged glances. Never had a Healer of the People transgressed one of the laws, and certainly not Adia of the People of the High Rocks.
Is’Taqa stole a look at Ogima Adoeete, his brows knitted together in confusion. Khon’Tor sat rigid and unmoving. It took a moment for the High Council members to regain their focus.
Kurak’Kahn raised his hand to bring their attention back under control. The Overseer was required by protocol to address Adia next.
“Adia of the People of the High Rocks, whatever you tell us now will be taken into serious consideration. The other members of your leadership, Khon’Tor as Leader, and Hakani as Third Rank, will be allowed to make statements for or against you after you have finished speaking. We will then retire and come to an agreement about how to proceed. Our ruling will be binding on you and everyone here. Do you understand?”
“I do,” she replied, making sure she made her voice heard and did not resort merely to nodding.
“Proceed,” said Kurak’Kahn, and he nodded at her, keeping his eyes locked on hers.
It was time.
Adia had vowed she was not going to let herself cry. She would not let herself appear to play on their goodwill toward her—or their reverence for the females of the People and her position as Healer. But she would remind them of who she was and what she stood for, regardless of what else they were about to hear.
She had prayed for their understanding, but had prepared herself to receive none.
“I know you all know who I am. Many of you knew my father, Apenimon Adoeete, Leader of the People of the Deep Valley. Lesharo’Mok is here as their current Leader. My father’s blood runs in my veins. My father’s love for the People lives in my heart. My father’s honor lives in my soul. When I was chosen as Healer for the People of the High Rocks, I was honored to be offered this great responsibility and opportunity. To serve and minister to the People here has been my life’s greatest reward. I recognize the sacredness of the position which was entrusted me to discharge. I have administered my duties with reverence and gratitude. I hope you will remember this when you consider your judgment of my crime,” Adia told them.
Nearly everyone in the room caught their breath. All eyes locked on her.
“High Council. It is with deepest regret and shame that I must inform you I am with offspring.”
The room fell deathly silent. Not one of them, except for Acaraho, was prepared for what Adia had just said. Ignoring their blank stares, she continued.
“I know my condition violates the Second Law. No Healer may bear the risks of carrying and delivering an offspring. I come to you for your deliberation on the best course of action regarding my continued place here among my people as their Healer.”
To ask the next question was on the border of impropriety but Kurak’Kahn leveraged his position as Overseer to ask it. “Adia, who seeded the offspring you carry?”
“The identity of the father is of no consequence to my situation, Overseer,” she stated.
The Overseer leaned forward.
“I will ask you again, Adia. Name the father of the offspring you bear.” This time it was a demand, not a question.
“With all due respect, Overseer. I will not reveal the father’s identity. Who he is has no bearing on the fact of my condition and that a Second Law has been broken.” She locked her eyes to his in a message of immovability, making sure she did not glance in Khon’Tor’s direction.
* * *
Khon’Tor could not move.
Adia was with offspring.
I seeded her that night? She is carrying my offspring—the lawful heir to my leadership? Hakani, thankfully, just lost the PetaQ offspring she was carrying, one who would have had a claim to my leadership and whom I would not have been able to deny. This, this offspring is my lawful heir. But if I claim it, I will lose my position as Leader.
And here was Adia, with his offspring growing inside her. The female who was his First Choice, the female whom he had envisioned as Mother Of His Offspring, standing here now, with offspring from the seed he had forced within her. His mind was bending at this cruel turn of events; the female he wanted was bearing his offspring. A female who would not have him, and an offspring he could never claim.
* * *
From the side, Acaraho was enjoying Khon’Tor’s discomfort. It was a small price to pay for the burden Adia was shouldering.
A male like Khon’Tor would never understand the honor Adia embodied, the honor that gave her the strength to stand before the High Council and take the blame for his crime to the benefit of everyone but herself.
* * *
Lesharo’Mok spoke up. “Adia. He bears equal responsibility for your condition.”
The softness in his voice reminded her of her father, and tears stung her eyes.
“By protecting the father, you bring more hardship on yourself,” he said.
Adia looked into his kind eyes, realizing he had compassion for her situation, perhaps because he was very much like her father in understanding how difficult life could be, and how lost anyone could become on their path.
“Does he know you bear his offspring?” asked Lesharo’Mok.
Well, he certainly does now. She suppressed a little chuckle and surprised herself that she could find any humor in this situation at all.
“Yes,” she replied.
“And the fact that he is not standing with you here now is not due to an inability to do so? But of his own volition?”
“No, he is able to do so, but chooses not to,” was all Adia could think to say in an answer.
She then continued, “I will not give you my justification for withholding his identity, Adoeete Lesharo’Mok. I only hope you will trust that my reasons are honorable and not meant to impede justice in this matter in any way.”
Realizing she was not going to give way on this matter, Kurak’Kahn continued to conduct the review.
“When is the offspring due, Adia?” he asked.
“By the time of the turning of the leaves, High Council Overseer.”
“Is there anything you wish to add to your admission, Adia? You will not be given an opportunity to speak again in your defense,” he told her.
She did have something to add, “I realize my condition compromises my position as Healer and puts my life at risk. For this, I am deeply sorry.”
Kurak’Kahn turned to Khon’Tor and Hakani for their remarks.
Khon’Tor held his breath willing Hakani to stay silent. Instead, she stood up to address the High Council. Khon’Tor swore under his breath.
Acaraho visibly bristled when he saw Hakani rise. He was well aware of her ill intentions toward Adia.
“High Council. There is a contributing issue of which I am not sure you are all aware. The Healer’s position is already compromised by raising a Waschini offspring—an offspring which she willingly brought into our midst when it was very young.”
Kurak’Kahn said, more of a statement than a question, “There is a Waschini offspring being raised among the People of the High Rocks.”
Hakani looked over and sneered at Adia. She has been told she may not speak again! I wonder how she is feeling now?
* * *
Hakani’s statement woke Khon’Tor out of his stoic trance. I need to mitigate the damage Hakani is trying to inflict, lest the High Council’s judgment against Adia is harsh enough to break her vow of silence on my behalf!
Khon’Tor stood up and walked around to the front of the table, directly facing the High Council, and making sure he crossed in front of Hakani as if to dismiss her and her statement entirely. He had kicked into his Leader role and was addressing them with authority and finesse. This was the best of Khon’Tor—one of the abilities that had elevated him within his position as Leader of the People. Khon’Tor could be eloquent, convincing, and entirely credible. Hearts and minds were changed when he spoke with authority. And he brought all this gift to bear now, in what appeared to
be on Adia’s behalf.
“High Council. Hakani’s statement that there is a Waschini offspring being raised among my people is factually correct, but does not convey the extenuating circumstances by which this came to pass.
“Adia came across the offspring when it was helpless; the sole survivor left amid a barbaric scene of the bloody and ruthless slaughter of its parents. Her choices were to leave it, or to take it with her; plain and simple. She would not be the revered Healer you all know her to be if she had been able to leave the offspring to die a horrible death of exposure, or at the teeth of predators. I do not know of any of the People’s females, let alone a Healer, who could have done differently in her situation.
I put it to you that all offspring are innocent—even those of the Waschini. Adia was selected to become a Healer because the love of the Great Spirit runs through her so strongly. To condemn her for decisions she made because of that very same quality would be the height of injustice.” He paused for a moment.
“The offspring is being raised as one of us. It has been accepted by our people. The Healer has the support of the community females, as does any other mother. She has faithfully continued to fulfill her role as Healer, and I have extended my protection to the offspring as I would any of the People’s offspring. This was not a crime Adia committed, it was an act of mercy, and for that, she could not be condemned, by anyone,” and as he spoke, he turned and scowled directly at Hakani.
Khon’Tor then turned back to face the High Council.
“I do not have to remind you of Adia’s reputation as a Healer, nor her dedication to the People. She has given of her time and energy without fail, often against unreasonable burdens. Any punishment leveled against her for her condition would be an injustice. I submit that no one in this room has not made a serious mistake. We can sit here in innocence because our failings were not made public. Adia does not have that luxury, and instead of hiding from the consequences of her mistake, she has directly contacted the High Council and proactively sought your intervention. She has turned to you for wisdom and guidance, not judgment and condemnation. I hope her faith in you has not been misplaced.”
Khon’Tor concluded his statement and then paused a moment for effect. Then, instead of taking up his seat at the table with the other High Council members, he took a seat facing them, symbolically sitting with Adia.
Kurak’Kahn, the Overseer, turned to look at each of the High Council members. He was looking for agreement that they had heard all they needed. They each nodded at him in turn, and Kurak’Kahn turned back to address Adia.
“This hearing is now completed. You may return to your regular activities. We will notify you when we have determined how best to proceed, and are ready to reconvene,” concluded the Overseer of the High Council.
* * *
Acaraho moved away from his place and pushed the stone doors open so they could leave. Adia went first, passing by him without making eye contact.
Hakani filtered out next, followed by Khon’Tor, who conspicuously did not walk with his mate. Once all three had left, Acaraho turned back to the High Council to see if they needed anything else.
“Acaraho, may we use this room for deliberation with an assurance of privacy?” asked Kurak’Kahn.
“I have guards stationed in all directions at a distance which precludes their overhearing anything, Overseer. I give you my assurance that nothing you say here will be overheard. You may use the room as long as you wish; I will instruct the guards that no one, including them, is to approach, and only when you vacate may they surrender their posts. They will also show you the way back to your quarters,” said Acaraho.
“Thank you. We will let you know when we are ready to reconvene.”
Acaraho nodded to them, making eye contact with each one, and left the room, closing the door behind him. As promised, he went to each guard and gave them their explicit instructions.
Then he stood outside the room for a moment before going to catch up with Adia. His mind was churning. He had noticed Is’Taqa look over at his Chief when Adia brought her accusation against herself. From that reaction, it appeared the Second Chief knew something.
And as for Khon’Tor’s defense of Adia, had Acaraho not known that everything Khon’Tor did was always ultimately in the Leader’s own best interests, his estimation of Khon’Tor would have been raised to a new high. But he knew Khon’Tor was not genuinely speaking on Adia’s behalf. Yes, he was working to mitigate their judgment of her, to soften whatever consequences they might levy against her for breaking one of the Second Laws. However, he had attempted to move them to mercy for the sole purpose of ensuring she had less to lose by keeping her silence than she had to gain by breaking it.
Acaraho followed behind Adia to ensure she made it safely to her quarters, but he kept his distance so as not to disturb her. More than anything else, he wanted to speak to her. He wanted to tell her how proud he was of her, how impressed with her resolve, and the honor and dignity with which she had delivered her message. He wanted to tell her that no matter what happened, her father would have been so very proud of her in every regard. And how deeply sorry he was that this terrible injustice had been committed against her. And what a coward Khon’Tor was, and a thousand other things.
But Acaraho knew it was not over, and if she wanted to see him, she would send for him. She was under tremendous strain, and he could not risk disturbing her tenuous control over herself. So he went back to his private quarters and weighed the possible penalties the High Council might impose upon her.
Khon’Tor was following behind Hakani, as was the guard he had assigned to accompany her every move. He wanted to make sure she went nowhere else but back to their quarters as he had business to conduct with her there. He closed the distance between them; his anger was undeniable, and he would have been surprised if she could not feel it emanating off him from several paces behind her. He knew Hakani had seen an opportunity to create more hardship for Adia, and it was only her sheer hatred of the Healer that had given her the strength to stand up and address the High Council. She is going to pay for her act of rebellion.
He caught up with her just as she was about to enter their quarters. The moment they were inside the room, Khon’Tor grabbed her arm roughly just above her elbow and jerked her over and up against him hard. As they cleared the door, he shoved it shut with only one hand.
“If you think I was hard on you last night, Hakani,” he threatened her, “you had better brace yourself tonight.”
“Khon’Tor—” She started to defend herself, but it only made him angrier.
“Kah-tah! Shut up! It is obvious from your performance in there that you still do not understand your place. It’s time for another lesson.”
And with that, he dragged her over and shoved her down hard on his sleeping mat, and for the third night in a row, he unleashed his raw power on her repeatedly, violently, taking her Without Her Consent.
Chapter 6
Adia returned to an impatiently waiting Nadiwani. The two females sat together, and Adia recounted what had happened. Nadiwani’s eyes narrowed as Adia recounted how Hakani had stood up and told the High Council about Oh’Dar. And when Adia repeated what she could of Khon’Tor’s speech on her behalf, Nadiwani was as surprised as Adia herself had been.
“He spoke eloquently, Nadiwani. It was Khon’Tor at his best. He is an even greater Leader when he puts the People’s best interests above his own,” she added.
Nadiwani nodded in agreement. The People needed a Leader of great resolve, strong-willed, one who had the vision to get them through the trying times ahead, especially with Wrak-Ayya threatening their way of life. Khon’Tor was a powerful speaker who could not only persuade people, but also move them to action.
“Acaraho could equally be our Leader,” Nadiwani said. “He is just as strong as Khon’Tor. Everyone looks up to him. There is no one who does not respect or trust him. And there is no male of more exceptional character. You have
done well to secure him as mentor to Oh’Dar,” she added.
What Nadiwani had not yet found a way to say to her friend, was that she had seen the looks passing between Adia and Acaraho. And though she did agree that Acaraho was the perfect choice of role model for Oh’Dar, his increased involvement in Adia’s life could only create more and more conflict for Adia down the road.
Their conversation wound down, and they both retired to bed. Adia was asleep almost before her head hit the mat. Nadiwani stayed awake for a while, worrying what the High Council was going to decide in the matter of her friend’s situation.
* * *
The next morning passed without a decision from the High Council. Acaraho made sure its members were well taken care of, arranging for food to be brought to their quarters and providing them with other matters of convenience. He let the Overseer know that if they wished to use the room again for further discussion, he would make sure the guards were placed as before to ensure their privacy.
The Overseer did not indicate that they needed the room but did ask Acaraho to check in after a few hours.
Before Acaraho could do so, however, one of the guards came to tell him that the High Council was ready to reconvene. They had asked that he assemble those who were in attendance yesterday and bring them to the meeting room.
Acaraho sent the guard to retrieve Khon’Tor and Hakani. He would go and find Adia himself. He wanted to time it so Khon’Tor and Hakani would already be in the room, and the session ready to convene, before he brought Adia in. It was going to be hard enough on her as it was, without having to sit in the room waiting for the others to arrive.
“It is time, Adia,” he said.
The Healer’s Mantle Page 9
