A massive chest, deeply defined muscles rippling underneath his light covering of dark hair, warm yet strong, with deeply set dark eyes—all these worked together to make him uncommonly attractive.Whenever Adia was around him, Acaraho always conducted himself stoically, never making eye contact unless delivering a specific message.
Luckily, by the time Adia and Nadiwani reached the room, the others were already assembled, and the meeting was ready to start as soon as Khon’Tor arrived. Adia did not trust herself alone with Hakani very long—something Khon’Tor had no doubt been wise enough to realize when he engineered each of the arrivals.
I wonder what Acaraho’s reaction would be should I lose control and attack Hakani here and now?
The room was large, like everything at Kthama, but not cavernous. Smooth boulders of various sizes were placed in a semi-circle for seating, as meetings could often stretch out longer than was advantageous to stand around or sit on the ground. As with most of the other rooms, there was only one entrance. A guard had been placed outside, and Acaraho was positioned inside the meeting room.
Adia was pleased Khon’Tor had chosen Acaraho to be present, though it meant he would overhear everything discussed. Adia dismissed that from her mind, relying on Khon’Tor’s judgment and what she knew: Acaraho was a male of discretion. Despite whatever else she was feeling at the moment, she did respect and admire Khon’Tor in many ways. Accepting the job Acaraho was there to do, she put his somewhat distracting presence out of her mind.
Both Nadiwani and Adia had spent time that morning appealing to the Mother for help and guidance. They had also each taken a tincture of the same Ginseng Root Nadiwani had given to Oh‘Dar, to help them stay calm.
It was not long after they were all seated that Khon’Tor entered. The silver shock of hair on the top of his head made his identity unmistakable.
Khon’Tor had slept outside under the stars the night before, but he’d had enough time to gain control of his reactions. Despite the tumultuous clamoring of the emotions created from yesterday’s events, he had managed to harness them all and sublimate them into one stone-cold, hard, physical presence that bristled with authority and power.
The Leader walked around behind them in carefully measured and controlled steps, his hands clasped behind his back. His circling behind them was a show of domination. Every move he made emphasized his authority as Leader and sent them each a crystal-clear message. That their transgressions were severe, that he and he alone was in charge here, that his judgment of them would be final, and would not and could not be challenged.
Khon’Tor finally took his place, standing in front of the semi-circle where they were seated. There was a boulder placed there for him, should he wish to sit. Before he said a word, he took a moment to make eye contact with each of them, starting at the far left where Nadiwani was seated, moving to Adia, and then to his mate, Hakani, on the right.
Though the actions of each angered him, he was furious with his mate.
Having achieved his objective in establishing his position of power, Khon’Tor now sat down facing them. Legs spread, fists pressing down on the tops of his knees, sitting rigid and upright, he was the very picture of controlled power.
His eyes were cold, “Each of you will be granted an equal amount of time to make your case in defense of your actions. After I have heard you out, I will make my decision regarding the punishment for those actions.”
Nadiwani glanced fleetingly at Adia as Khon’Tor made use of the word ‘punishment’. No one spoke. Seconds passed. Khon’Tor let the silence grow. In this setting, unlike yesterday’s debacle in the Great Chamber, he was in complete control.
He had hardened his heart and felt no compunction at all for their discomfort. Quite the converse—he was enjoying it.
Khon’Tor turned to Nadiwani first, locking his gaze on her. Nadiwani was the Healer’s Helper; she was not used to being in the line of fire, was not established as a Leader in the community. She had not needed to develop a steely mental core or the level of defensive offense the others had, and she had no experience with issues of this magnitude. She immediately looked down, unconsciously signaling her surrender.
“Nadiwani. I believe your role in this to be one of default. If I am wrong and you were instrumental in bringing this Waschini offspring into our community, I expect you to speak now and accept responsibility for your actions.”
Adia spoke up, trying to protect Nadiwani, “Nadiwani is not at fault here. She—”
Without moving his head or even glancing in Adia’s direction, Khon’Tor extended his arm, with his palm facing toward her, and cut the Healer off mid-sentence. “I did not ask you, woman. I am asking the girl, Nadiwani.”
His use of these terms was intentional. Though females were revered by the People, this was a direct dismissal of their official positions within the community. He was sending every message he could that his was the only power here.
Nadiwani swallowed hard. “Though I was not directly involved in bringing the offspring here,” she said, replacing his degrading choice of the word ‘Waschini’ with the kinder term, “I have willfully participated in his care and protection. I stand with Adia; do with me what you will.”
Nadiwani’s response surprised Khon’Tor. He had felt her surrender earlier under his gaze but now respected her for standing up to him. However, this was not the time to let her or any of the others know that.
“Is that all you have to say?” asked Khon’Tor coldly.
“My statement stands as I have given it,” replied Nadiwani.
Not willing to discharge any of the tension in the room by letting Nadiwani off the hook in any regard, Khon’Tor turned to Hakani, bypassing Adia and breaking the order they all assumed he would follow. He wanted to keep them on edge.
Though she was officially Third Rank by her station as the Leader’s mate, Hakani was no match for Khon’Tor in a direct one-on-one confrontation. She was wily and clever, and skillfully deceitful—all attributes she employed in trying to stay one step ahead of him. But in a direct contest of wills or personal force of character, Khon’Tor was the winner, hands down. Hakani had hoped Khon’Tor’s anger would be somewhat dissipated by the time he got to her, but in truth, no amount of time could have eased his ire.
Khon’Tor turned to address her.
“How and when did you learn of the offspring?” he asked, repeating the question she had partially sidestepped the afternoon before. Hakani shifted in her seat, stalling. Khon’Tor stared at her. Now is your chance; I suggest you take it and explain yourself.
“I learned of the offspring on the night of Adia’s return. I entered the Healer’s Quarters uninvited while they were sleeping and discovered the offspring.”
At that admission, Adia involuntarily inhaled sharply. Hakani had breached the sanctity of the Healer’s Quarters. Not only that, but she had entered at a time when both Adia and Nadiwani were defenseless, lost in sleep. It was a cowardly act because no one of honor would violate another when that other was helpless. Sleep was a time when the soul rejoined the Great Spirit. All sleeping quarters were considered sacred spaces.
Having answered Khon’Tor’s question, Hakani paused.
There were a hundred questions he wanted to ask her. Why did you pick such a moment to reveal the offspring’s presence? Why did you not come to me directly when there were many opportunities for you to tell me in private? What was your intention in acting so? Who was the real target of your actions? Me? Adia? Everyone? And lastly, Why do you hate Adia so?
But he asked none of them. He did not expect that Hakani would answer, and no matter what she said, he had already made up his mind about her guilt, even if he did not understand her motivations.
“You violated the Healer’s Quarters. You attacked the Healer’s Helper, drawing blood. You kidnapped an offspring and brought chaos and turmoil to an already inflammatory situation. What do you offer in defense of your actions?” he asked Hakani.
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��I offer no defense,” said Hakani.
Oddly enough, at that moment, Khon’Tor believed she was speaking the truth. Whether it was evidence of some remorse on her part or simply a statement of fact that there was indeed no valid defense possible, he was not sure.
Khon’Tor sat for a little while, his elbows now resting on his knees, his hands intertwined in front of him. He closed his eyes and lowered his head for a few seconds, creating a moment of privacy in which to collect his thoughts.
It was Adia’s turn.
Wanting to reassert her position of power, Adia did not wait for Khon’Tor’s permission to speak. While she was waiting, she had been praying to the Mother for wisdom and eloquence and that the power of her words would come from the power of the truth—whatever that might be—and not from her belief in the ultimate righteousness of her actions.
Khon’Tor nullified her attempt to regain some ground by not acknowledging she had already taken it upon herself to speak up. He turned his head in her direction as she started to speak, implying that he had been waiting impatiently for her to begin. When it came to executing moves and countermoves, Khon’Tor was the master.
“I accept full responsibility for my actions,” began Adia. This was not an attempt to placate Khon’Tor’s anger. It was a statement of fact, and indeed, it stood on its merits.
Yesterday, in the meeting hall in front of everyone, Adia had already explained how she set out to deliver the Goldenseal roots to Ithua, Medicine Woman of the Brothers. She had explained how she came across the horrific scene and discovered the offspring, and that she had then brought him back with her. She now continued the story.
“When I first found the slaughtered bodies of the offspring’s parents, I was horrified and dumbstruck at the cruelty and viciousness of their dispatch. Even the state in which they were left dead and lifeless spoke to the soullessness of whoever murdered them. They were splayed out where they were struck down, allowing them no dignity in their final moments, left with no regard to their exposure to the elements or to the predators of the forest who feed on such carrion. The brutality and heartlessness of the scene sickened me to my core. Both of them, male and female, had obviously been made to suffer before they died. The hair coverings on both their heads had been sliced away and removed. Clearly, there had been a struggle. Signs indicated the female had been taken Without Her Consent—whether before or after her death, I do not know.”
Adia continued, “Whoever did this tried to make it look as if the Brothers committed these unspeakable acts, but I know that was not the case. The tracks left by the riders leading to and from the scene were those of the White Men. Two perfectly healthy horses were left tethered to a strange structure. Not only are the Brothers incapable of such wanton cruelty, but none of their tribes would have left the horses, as valuable as they are.”
Everyone in the room except Khon’Tor, who was withholding any and all reaction to her story, was unconsciously nodding agreement at her assessment that none of the Brothers could have committed this.
“There are no words to express my level of disgust and despair—how horrified I was to come across this scene. I knew it was the work of the Waschini. I said a prayer for the souls, but there was nothing else I could do for them. As I was preparing to leave, I heard a noise. My heart sank as I realized something else was still alive at the scene. Fearing the worst of what I would find, I looked inside the compartment to which the horses had been tethered. It was there I found the offspring.” Adia made a point of using the word, just as Nadiwani had.
“I am not proud of my first reaction. This was a Waschini offspring, spawn of the same soulless race that had committed these abhorrent acts. As a Healer, I had no right to feel as I did; I considered killing it on the spot. Had I done so, at that moment, I would have felt fully justified. Here was a soulless creature just waiting to grow up and inflict more pain and suffering in our world. Why would I not take this moment to dispatch it quickly, before it could bring the evil acts to bear which no doubt rested in its soul—if it had one? It would be kinder to kill it quickly rather than leaving it to die of exposure, or worse. Though, based on the sins of its kind, I even considered whether it deserved to be spared pain or suffering.”
Up until now, Adia had been sitting level with Khon’Tor. But now she stood up, walking behind the others, placing them between her and Khon’Tor, and creating a show of unity with the females of the People.
“I love the People. I would never do anything to bring harm or dishonor to our community. I would never bring dishonor to you, Khon’Tor. Trust me when I tell you now, to have killed the offspring would have done all that,” she said.
“I am not defending the Waschini by any means. I would never, ever do that. Their record stands for itself. Those who commit these acts deserve the severest of punishments, even including death. None of us would argue otherwise. But at that moment, there was no Waschini in front of me; there was only an offspring, helpless, unable to defend or care for itself. Its life was in my hands; whether I killed it myself or left it to die, the decision was the same.” She paused for just a moment.
“Khon’Tor, you spoke of my violation of the Second Law: No Contact With Outsiders. It is on that crime that you are no doubt deciding my fate. But the offspring has committed no crime unless you deem its very existence a crime. It has committed no bad acts. It does not have hatred or evil in its heart. I am not innocent; not one of us in this room is innocent. Not even you, Khon’Tor. But I speak this truth from the hearts of all females everywhere; no offspring enters the world carrying sin. We are all guilty and deserving of judgment, but an offspring is not. An offspring, all offspring are born innocent. We have always recognized their innocence until they reach the age of accountability.”
With that, Adia stopped speaking and looked into Khon’Tor’s eyes. She was appealing to his higher nature with all her soul, praying her words had reached him. Praying he would respond to her and see her as a female first, and not as someone who had betrayed the laws of the People; not as someone who had betrayed him.
There was not a sound in the room.
Though Khon’Tor would never admit it, Adia’s words had their effect. He did realize that what she said was true—the offspring was still innocent. And because it was innocent, he could not condemn it to death. Nor could he condemn her for saving it. To expect her to do otherwise would have been against everything she as a Healer, or as a female, represented. It would contradict the best to which any of them could aspire.
But he still had the problem of the offspring in their midst, and the danger it represented. He had to address those issues before he could decide their fate.
Still seated, Khon’Tor took over.
“I do not deny the horror of what you experienced. I do not deny the difficulty of your decision to let it live. Nor am I denying or admitting the validity of your position. But there are other factors to consider. The presence of this offspring creates a danger to all the People. It is an encumbrance. It is weak and frail and will never be able to function as a contributing member of our community. It will never be allowed to leave, so it will spend the rest of its life here. What will become of it when it reaches pairing age? When it is filled with a male’s natural desires? None of the females will have it—so pitiful and repulsive. It will never be a provider or a protector. It will live and die alone, separated from its own kind. That is the life to which you have sentenced it, Adia. That is the life to which you have condemned it. Death would have been a kindness.”
Tears were welling in Adia’s eyes. The room was quiet; the atmosphere of fear had been replaced with an atmosphere of growing reverence. Healers believed reverence was carried on the wings of truth. Because when words of truth were spoken, they brought in the presence of the Great Spirit.
“I will take responsibility for the offspring, Khon’Tor. The burden will be mine.” She said it quietly, in keeping with the almost sacred feeling of the moment.
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��Yes,” replied Khon’Tor, “the responsibility will be yours, Adia. And since it was your decision alone to bring it here, you alone will shoulder the burden of raising it. It will be your responsibility to ensure it becomes a functioning member of this community. Its crimes will be your crimes. Its punishments will be your punishments. Whatever comes of this will be on your head. You may have the assistance of your Helper, Pakuna, and two of the four females who stood with you yesterday. But,” he paused for effect and added in an even more steely voice, “if at any time I see the offspring as a threat—to the community as a whole or to any member of this community—I will end its life myself.”
When he first started speaking, Adia had some hope of a bearable outcome. But his final degree that she alone would be responsible for raising the offspring created a nearly impossible situation. How could she fulfill her role as Healer and raise an offspring—especially one about whom they knew so little? Nadiwani and the others had their own responsibilities. In the People’s communities, the rearing of offspring was shared by all. He had virtually ensured that her burden in this would be debilitating.
Quieted now, Adia knew she had not thought all of this through when she acted; she had acted out of the voice of her heart and not her head. Her heart, that for which the People most valued her other than her knowledge and skills as their Healer, had now become a liability and perhaps would bring times of terrible struggle to herself and all her people. And also to Oh'Dar.
But what of the clear vision she had received, that the offspring was tied to something important for the future of her people, that her finding him had not been an accident but the guidance of the Great Spirit?
“Khon’Tor,” she started, “To place all of this on me is not fair to the offspring. Even with the others’ help, the offspring will go without a great deal that he needs to fulfill your other decrees. He will have no father. The offspring of the People are always raised by all of the community.”
Khon'Tor's Wrath Page 8
