However, Acaraho’s dilemma was not about Khon’Tor’s reaction to this latest development but something else. Acaraho had the solution to their problem.
I know where to find a Whitespeak teacher for the Waschini offspring. I have been able to remain neutral so far, but now that I see how they love the boy, how gentle and kind they are with him, I am not sure I can remain impartial. The Healer is exhausted, yet she presses on. She pushes herself to bear up under the burden Khon’Tor has placed on her to fill without leeway the roles of both Healer and mother.
Acaraho’s respect for Nadiwani and even more for Adia had grown with each additional day he spent in their company.
Acaraho was losing his neutrality.
Though Khon’Tor was indeed a master strategist, his shortcomings blindsided him to the risk he had created in placing Acaraho in such close interaction with the females and the offspring. Khon’Tor was ruled by his will; he forgot that not everyone else was.
Acaraho and Khon’Tor shared many similarities. Both were very intelligent, both were in positions of great authority and leadership in the community, both possessed exceptional physical attributes. In a contest of sheer strength, the victor would be the one who executed the better strategy or the one who had more to lose because they were otherwise so well-matched.
But where Khon’Tor was very protective of his position of authority and was driven to maintain it at whatever cost, Acaraho did not have to be the one in charge. He possessed a strong will; he achieved whatever he set his mind to. But he was not driven by a desire to be the one in control.
Khon’Tor, on the other hand, was so consumed by his need to be in command that his will overruled any input from his other faculties. In a struggle between his heart and his head, Khon’Tor would subjugate his heart without hesitation. Power was so important to Khon’Tor that he could not conceive of anyone else in authority voluntarily risking their position for anything. It would never occur to Khon’Tor that Acaraho might put his high level of power in jeopardy based on the leading of his heart.
It was not that Acaraho had romantic feelings for either of the females. He knew their positions prevented it; plus he knew it was a complication he did not need to entertain. But he respected them and discovered he cared about them. He found their quest honorable and admired the integrity with which they pursued it.
He could have done nothing. But he would have had to betray his conscience as well as these females of whom he thought so highly, and he had to live with himself.
So Acaraho stepped down from his neutral position and decided to do whatever was within his power to help Adia, Nadiwani, and Oh’Dar—even if it came at his detriment.
Acaraho had no intention of falling on his sword. He knew he needed to get to them the information he possessed about the teacher for Oh’Dar, but had to figure out a way to do so without tipping his hand. If he wanted to continue helping them, he could best do so by maintaining his position as their protector and his role as informant to Khon’Tor. Khon’Tor has no interest in what would benefit the offspring; Khon’Tor cares only about what would benefit Khon’Tor. Somehow, I have to make Khon’Tor want Oh'Dar to learn Whitespeak.
Chapter 11
While events were calming down for Adia, Nadawani, and the offspring, they were not going so well for Khon’Tor.
His life had gotten immeasurably worse. He was saddled with a mate who no longer secretly hated him but now openly and actively expressed it, who still refused to receive him to provide an heir to his leadership, who was effectively calling his bluff of going to the High Council and asking for a second mate. Because of her presence, there was no peace in his quarters. And now there was peace nowhere else either because wherever he went, he was reminded of Adia.
Khon’Tor noticed that when Adia took her walks outside others stopped and spoke with her—the males as well as the females. Khon’Tor knew the favor of the entire community was turning toward her. And the more Adia’s popularity grew, the more Khon’Tor’s hatred of her also grew. In spite of his efforts to crush her, she had risen up even stronger.
How quickly they have forgiven her, despite the seriousness of what she did. She broke the laws. She openly challenged my authority. And she brought a tremendous threat directly into our midst. This is not justice; none of this is justice.
The offspring is growing. And as it grows, so will its skills and abilities and powers. And so will its influence. According to Acaraho, it has proven adept at learning Handspeak. It will not be long before it is able to converse with others of my people. And the odds are it will endear itself to everyone, in the same way it has charmed those now close to it.
Khon’Tor did not know how to turn the tide against them, so he was waiting either for an opportunity to present itself or until he could create one.
Any other Leader would not have cared about any of this. Any other Leader would have seen this as a good turn of events—unity was being brought back to the People of the High Rocks. The drama of what had taken place had subsided. Everyone, including Adia and Nadiwani, was returning to their normal lives. Any other Leader would have welcomed this outcome, would not have resented the favor the Healer and the offspring were winning from the People. Any other Leader except one as consumed with power as Khon’Tor. But just at the point when he did not think he could live with it for another minute, a golden opportunity dropped right into his lap.
Acaraho did not forget his dilemma over helping Adia find a Whitespeak teacher for Oh'Dar. He hesitated at the time because he was afraid Khon’Tor might be able to use it to turn the People against her. But now, seeing how fully she had won the hearts of the community, he was confident her favor could take a hit from any backlash Khon’Tor might be able to stir up against her.
The High Protector did not acknowledge that Khon’Tor resented, or even hated Adia. Instead, he always delivered his report as if Khon’Tor would be glad to hear how well she was doing.
When the two met, they discussed general community business. Technically, both Adia and Hakani outranked Acaraho, but functionally he was higher in authority as he commanded the tasks of the other males. He was effectively in the position of authority closest to that of Khon’Tor, and he also had far greater influence over the Leader than either Adia or Hakani had.
Khon’Tor had called Acaraho for a report on what new was taking place, if anything, and was seated in front of Acaraho in one of the small meeting rooms, his chin on his hands and a foul look on his face. He got right to the point at hand. “What is the latest news? Have there been any developments with the Healer or the Waschini?”
Acaraho gave the standard report of the offspring’s progress—how he was developing, his continued good relationship with Adia and Nadiwani, what he was expressing interest in, the fact that his Handspeak skills were progressing remarkably well.
Khon’Tor nodded his head blandly in acknowledgment.
When Acaraho finished, the Leader thanked him and bade him goodnight. Then, before leaving, Acaraho turned back to face Khon’Tor.
“Oh,” he said. “There is one other thing,” he looked to make sure he had Khon’Tor’s full attention.
“As you remember, the offspring is learning our language. But there is something more you should know. The Healer wants to find a Whitespeak teacher for him so he can learn the Waschini language.”
Khon’Tor lifted his head, a puzzled look on his face. Knowing him, Acaraho was aware that Khon’Tor was trying to figure out if this was good or bad for himself. With Acaraho’s next statement, he led Khon’Tor exactly where he wanted the Leader to go.
“Things are quieting down among the People. The drama has fallen from their memory. Those community members who of necessity have come in contact with the offspring seem to have accepted him as one of our own. I fear if the Waschini learns Whitespeak, it might be too much a reminder of his true heritage, and it might turn them against him. If she is not careful, the Healer might lose all the gains she has mad
e in finding acceptance for him.”
Khon’Tor smiled. Here was the opportunity he needed—a chance to turn opinion back against her.
It was difficult for Adia to have Acaraho around and keep ignoring him. She was kind-hearted and felt it disrespectful to overlook his presence, never including him in conversation, treating him as if he was just another object in the room. And so, over time, she inched the line a little further forward, acknowledging him as a person instead of merely a bodyguard.
She started by addressing Acaraho by his name. The first time she did it, she worried that she was behaving too familiarly toward him. But she had to start somewhere, and a name was about as basic as you could get. He did not correct her or signal in any way that she was acting inappropriately. She started simply, thanking him, or using his name in welcoming him. He never made eye contact with her, though she sometimes caught him appraising her just as she looked away.
Over time, she started giving him small things to do—asking him to hand her down a basket or giving him something to hold for her for a moment. He never objected, seeming to welcome the overtures. But not in public. In public, she never treated him as anything other than the High Protector.
Maybe I should not blur the lines, she thought. But I cannot treat Acaraho as if he does not exist. He has been part of our daily lives now for some time. He has listened to all our plans and conversations. He was here when Oh'Dar made his first sign for Mama; when he took his first steps. Maybe it’s partly my loneliness too. I know he’s seen me with tears in my eyes.
How odd, this stranger about whom I know nothing probably knows me better than anyone else except Nadiwani.
One morning Adia and Nadiwani were sitting across from each other lost in their conversation, having forgotten Acaraho was present.
“Oh’Dar is doing so well. He is even starting to say some of our words, though he cannot quite get the hang of it yet,” said Nadiwani.
“I know. I try not to laugh, but it is so comical.”
“Me too. He is so bright, Adia. He soaks up everything we give him.”
“I cannot shake it. My mind tells me there might never be a need for him to speak the Waschini language, and that in doing so I might be sending him a message that he should at some point try to return to them. Even raising it might anger Khon’Tor to the extent that he makes it even harder on us, though I am not sure how he could do that, as difficult as things already are. But no matter what my reason tells me, in my heart, I feel it is the right path for Oh'Dar.” Adia shook her head and then rested her chin in her hands. When she looked up again, tears were streaming down her face.
“I do not know what to do. I am so torn, Nadiwani. My heart is breaking for fear of making the wrong decision.”
Nadiwani reached out and took her friend’s hand.
“Adia.” A male’s voice broke the silence.
Adia peered backward at the only male in the room.
She was afraid to move, as if a butterfly had just landed on her hand, and any movement would scare it away.
Acaraho took a step toward them. “Forgive my interruption. I realize it is an aberration from my assignment to speak to you directly. I hope you will forgive the transgression.”
Adia could not remember if she had ever heard his voice before. It was deep and low, rich and comforting. The strength of his soul shining through his eyes kept her gaze locked on his.
She swallowed hard, “Please; please go on.” If Acaraho was tall when she was standing next to him, he was a giant looming over them as they sat.
“It is not my place to counsel you. If you wish to make a report to Khon’Tor for my doing so, that is your right. But I have been a witness to your continued struggle over this particular matter, and I feel I must speak up at this time,” he said.
“It has been my responsibility and my honor to protect you these past few months. Know I could have refused this appointment had I wished, but I have accepted it willingly. I say this to assure you I mean to bring you no harm in what I am about to say.”
Adia and Nadiwani continued to stare up at him, unblinking, like rabbits caught in the stare of a predator, unable to move.
“You are standing at a crossroads and time is running out. If you fail to decide whether or not the offspring should learn Whitespeak, the decision will be made by default.”
Adia regained her ability to blink. His wisdom registered with her deeply. She was losing time with her indecision. One way or the other, she needed to pick a direction.
And then, just when they thought he was done speaking, he leaned toward Adia slightly and said, “I have seen you do far braver things than this, Adia.”
She inhaled sharply at this second use of her name.
Acaraho returned to standing against the wall, by which she knew he was signaling a return to their earlier rules of engagement. She felt a wave of sadness come over her that he had stepped back over the line he had just crossed. A window had opened and then closed.
Nadiwani looked at Adia and Adia looked at Nadiwani. It was time to go to Khon’Tor.
For the second day in a row, providence smiled on the Leader.
After the evening meal, he was seated in his usual secluded spot in the Great Chamber. Again, Hakani was nowhere to be found. Adia approached him much as she had done previously when she asked him about the wrappings for Oh'Dar.
And just as he had before, Khon’Tor received her with an icy silence. But this time he spoke first as she sat down next to him. “Another favor, Adia?” he asked her.
Khon’Tor had no clue what this was about, but he did not have time for it. He was still trying to figure out how to broach the idea of the offspring learning Whitespeak without Adia knowing that he knew about it through Acaraho. He could think of absolutely no platform from which to launch the suggestion.
Thinking that with the colder weather approaching, she was coming to ask again about the wrappings for Oh'Dar, he brought it up himself in an effort to end the conversation.
“If you are here to ask again about the wrappings for the Waschini offspring, I have word that Is’Taqa himself will be bringing them shortly, perhaps as early as in the next few days. Make sure you are prepared to receive them,” he said, meaning she should have her reciprocal gifts ready.
“Thank you, Khon’Tor. I appreciate knowing this, but that is not the reason I am here. You have made it clear the offspring is my responsibility alone, and I hope you can acknowledge that I have fully shouldered this responsibility up until now. However, I am at a point where I need to ask for your help with a fundamental issue in which time is of the essence,” she continued.
Khon’Tor started to take interest. Again, Adia is about to ask for my help with something important.
He saw an opportunity open to enjoy himself at her expense. He could hardly wait for the pleasure of her reaction when he coldly refused her request, whatever it was. In presenting him an opportunity to inflict a level of suffering on her, however slight, she now had his full attention.
“I am sure you know there is a window of opportunity in an offspring’s development during which they have the aptitude for learning a language. He is learning to understand our language, though I believe that differing physical structure means he will speak with the same accent as do the Brothers.” She paused so he could ask a question if he wished.
Khon’Tor’s attention sharpened. Wherever she was going with this, he might be able to turn it in the direction he wanted regarding Whitespeak.
Adia spoke again. “I ask that you give my next request serious consideration before you reply. I am aware your reaction may well be negative, but it is of such importance that I am willing to risk it.”
She took a controlled breath before continuing. “I would like permission for the offspring to be taught his native language while there is still opportunity,” she said.
Khon’Tor could not quite believe what he was hearing. Here he was struggling with the problem of how to raise th
e subject with her when she comes to him and brings it up herself. And because Adia had asked, she would be indebted to him if he granted it.
Khon’Tor had every intention of granting her request, but she did not know that. He saw an opportunity to leverage the moment by exacting a debt in return for graciously helping her out. For her to come to me and ask for this, she must want it very badly.
“You want permission to train that Waschini in the language of its barbaric people?” he asked, knitting his brows together in disapproval. He was not sure exactly how long he would drag this out, but he wanted to see her squirm.
It was not a question needing a response, so Adia said nothing.
“And why should I help you in this regard, Adia?” he scoffed. “Of what possible benefit is it to me to help you or the Waschini?”
Adia had no answer, and Khon’Tor sneered as she shifted and looked at him blankly. He knew his cold glare was making her uncomfortable, and he was enjoying every minute of it.
He paused to let the pressure between them build before continuing. When he spoke again, he did so very deliberately and with measured cadence. He leaned intimidatingly toward her. Let’s see how badly she wants it.
“If I grant you this, you will owe me a debt that must be repaid when called. I will not know what the debt is until the time comes to ask for it. When I require that you repay this obligation, you must do so,” he said.
“Whatever is required of you to fulfill your part of this agreement, I give you my word it will not involve inflicting harm or allowing harm to come to another. But when I ask for it, if you do not comply then either your life or the life of that offspring will be forfeit to me to do with as I will. The choice of which one I will leave up to you at that time.”
Khon'Tor's Wrath Page 12
