Somewhere in feeling the loss of all those things, she realized she had lost something else. No matter how angry Khon’Tor might have gotten with me in the past, no matter how much I have disagreed with him on some issues, he was still my Leader. I used to admire him. I looked up to him for strength and direction. But now I do not have even that any longer. The one person I thought was stronger than I and whom I could count on, is gone. I no longer have faith in him.
When Adia was sad, she often thought of her father, Leader of the People of the Deep Valley, the community she’d had to leave behind when she was selected as Healer to the People of the High Rocks. She had often compared Khon’Tor’s high tempered and heavy-handed style with her father’s more even-tempered and measured approach. And in that comparison, she had always found fault with Khon’Tor. Now, reflecting on the challenges facing them—challenges the kind of which her father never had to deal with—she realized Khon’Tor’s leadership style was not necessarily wrong, it was just different from that of her father.
And she now realized her father would not have been strong enough to lead the People through the storms on the horizon. It would take a strong-willed and fierce Leader to unite and direct them; someone like Khon’Tor.
When Adia came to this realization, she also came to her decision.
She would not reveal what Khon’Tor had done to her. Not because she excused it—there could never be any excuse for what he had done—and not because he did not deserve to be brought to justice. But Adia knew that if this came to light, it would divide and destroy the community. She remembered the first of the First Laws: The needs of the People come before the needs of the Individual. If she put her need for justice and vengeance first, then everyone in the community would suffer
Adia’s whole body relaxed with her decision. Living with what he did to me will be hard but allowing what he did to destroy our community would be harder. However, I am still going to confront him about what he did. I owe myself that. But I will pick the time and place. I just have to make sure no one overhears me, and I do not want to wait much longer.
Khon’Tor knew he could not avoid Hakani forever. She had heard where he was staying and waited to go in until she knew he would be there. Khon’Tor was both prepared and not prepared. He had no countermove against what Hakani had done. So he let her in and waited to hear what she had to say.
“Khon’Tor,” she began, “I want you to call an assembly and announce that we are expecting an offspring.”
“We are expecting an offspring?” Khon’Tor sneered.
“If you prefer I make it known the offspring is not your doing, Khon’Tor, I can do that.”
Khon’Tor took a deep breath. I am tired of the battle with Hakani. Perhaps I should accept this for what it is at the moment and concentrate on my larger problem; Adia. At least there is something I can do to deal with that.
“Alright,” said Khon’Tor. “I will make the arrangements.”
“I know you will be convincing, Khon’Tor,” said Hakani with a smirk on her face. “It would be a shame to have everyone know another male had to step up and accomplish what the great Adoeete could not,” she added.
“I am not taking the bait, Hakani. You refused me time and time again. We both know I am well able to complete the task, but you have withheld the opportunity for years.”
Without the other male coming forward, it is my word against hers. But she also cannot risk anyone knowing this is not my offspring. It is her protection against my going to the High Council and setting our pairing aside on the grounds that she has not produced my offspring. If either of us reveals the offspring is not mine, we both have much to lose.
Actually, Hakani’s request for him to call a general assembly played right into what he needed to do to regain control over Adia.
Khon’Tor realized that though he did not know if Adia remembered what he had done to her, he had to proceed as if she did. There was no threat if she did not; there was every threat if she did.
He had to ensure her silence, and there was only one way he knew to do that. Two things were very dear to Adia; one was the welfare of the People, and the other was the Waschini offspring. He would fully leverage each to his end and make use of the general assembly to do this.
Word went out quickly that Khon’Tor was calling a meeting of the People. Since there had only been good news about Adia’s recovery, and they had already been told the Waschini threat had passed, they anticipated that this would be a positive meeting.
Khon’Tor had to talk to Adia before the general assembly. Little did he know that while he was preparing to speak to her, she was preparing to speak to him.
Adia paced, pulling her thoughts together. She was ready to confront Khon’Tor. She needed him to know she remembered what he had done. All of it. But she was also going to tell him she would not be coming forward, while making it clear this was not in any way for his sake, but for the sake of the People. That if she could see him brought to justice without it destroying all the other people she cared about, she would. Adia knew she would not be able to evade Acaraho, so the only way she could meet with Khon’Tor was to be straight about it. Though she did not owe Acaraho an explanation, she could feel his concern for her. She had seen him watching Khon’Tor, and she knew he had suspicions that she was not telling the truth about her failed memory.
So she knew he would be opposed to her meeting with Khon’Tor in private. But there was no way around it. What she had to say to Khon’Tor had to be said to him alone.
The afternoon of the general assembly Khon’Tor was ready to play his hand with Adia. It occurred to him that by calling everyone together, he had provided her the perfect platform to accuse him publicly if she wished. So he had to meet with her beforehand to ease his mind. If she genuinely did not remember, all was well. If she did remember, he would invoke the means necessary to compel her silence.
Khon’Tor sent word that he wanted to speak with Adia and to bring her to the room where he had set up his new center of operations. Acaraho escorted Adia to the room, but when he started to enter with her, Khon’Tor solved Adia’s problem by putting his hand up to stop Acaraho at the door. “I will speak with her in private, Acaraho. Wait in the hallway outside to ensure our privacy.”
Adia could see by his reaction that Acaraho was not happy. Only someone who knew him as well as she did by now would have noticed the slightest narrowing of his eyes and the clench of his jaw.
Khon’Tor directed Acaraho to a position in the hallway. Though he was still in front of the door, he was to stand several feet away. Khon’Tor knew the room was soundproof. For this very reason, it had been especially set aside for sensitive meetings. He was being extra cautious because it was Acaraho.
Khon’Tor pulled the stone slab closed, and Adia’s heart beat harder at the sound of it sliding into place.
I am ready. All I need is for him to start and I will take over from there. I can safely assume that I am here because he wants to figure out if I really do not remember what happened. And if I do remember, what I am going to do about it.
I am glad to hear you should make a full recovery, Adia,” said Khon’Tor walking around to face her after closing the door, then sitting down on the nearest boulder.
Adia locked her eyes on his before replying, wanting to see every flicker of reaction.
“I find that surprising to hear, Khon’Tor,” she replied with ice in her voice. “You did not seem concerned for my welfare when after viciously attacking me, you left me bleeding to die in the cold snow.
“Yes, Khon’Tor. I remember. I remembered from the moment I woke up. I only needed time to deal with the shock of it, and to heal from the physical wounds you inflicted on me,” she added, never taking her eyes off his.
“And the next question you want to have answered; the answer is also yes. Yes. I remember all of it. Your rage. Grabbing and hurting my wrists. Throwing me to the ground. Hitting me across the face when I got back up. Knoc
king me down again. And then, while I was lying helpless and defenseless, barely conscious, you mated me against my will. Without My Consent. And not only a maiden, Khon’Tor, a Healer. You viciously attacked and violated a Healer.” She spat it out.
She paused before adding the last words, slowly, for impact. “And then left her to die.”
Standing quietly for a moment, Adia locked her eyes on his. He did not look away. He did not break eye contact. They stayed that way for several moments. She wanted to make sure he had heard her. And he had.
She was about to tell him about her decision not to come forward, for the sake of the People; however, he spoke first.
He got up and stood directly in front of her. “Everything you said is true. I will not deny it. I will not try to excuse it. I will not try to explain it. It is done and nothing will un-do it,” he said.
Well, that is a relief. Though not an apology, at least he does not deny what he did.
Khon’Tor paused for a moment. Then, still not breaking their eye contact, he slowly raised his left hand, palm facing Adia.
Adia broke eye contact to look at his raised palm, and she frowned. He is invoking our Rah-hora? Her eyes flew back to his when he started speaking again.
“You are bound by our Rah-hora, an agreement you went into voluntarily. For your part, you agreed to owe me a debt that you would repay when due. You entered into this agreement aware that neither you nor I knew what the debt would be until I named it. You also agreed that if you did not fulfill my request, either your life or that offspring’s would be forfeit to me.” Khon’Tor never took his eyes off hers, and his voice was like steel, just as it had been the night they made the agreement.
“You have not fulfilled your part, Khon’Tor,” said Adia. Her mind was racing, and she was doing her best to stay one step ahead of him now.
“I am prepared to do so tonight, Adia,” said Khon’Tor. “Our agreement stands, and I am activating it now.”
Though Adia understood what he was asking her to do, she needed him to say it so there could be no misunderstanding the ‘favor’ he was asking of her.
“State the debt, Khon’Tor,” she said icily.
“Very well. You are never to reveal what happened. You are never to reveal that I struck you, or that I violated you. Or that I left you to die. You are to maintain that you do not remember the details and allow others to believe as they do now; that you slipped and fell, and hit your head. Nothing more.”
Adia was satisfied that protocol had been followed and no room had been left to prevent the agreement being executed properly.
She could not believe this turn of events. She had been prepared to tell Khon’Tor that she would never reveal what he did to her. Now he was calling that in as her part of the debt. With this, she would be freed from the Rah-hora.
In another time, in another culture, another female might have shrugged off the burden of such an arrangement—after all, had Khon’Tor been held accountable for his crimes, it would be difficult for him to extract his part of the agreement. But the tradition, reverence, and sacredness of the Rah-hora were woven into the fabric of the People at a level deeper than reason could reach. Only the initiating party could release the other from the vow; barring that, both were honor-bound to fulfill it.
Adia was not going to lose this opportunity to be freed of the Rah-hora, while also assuring Oh'Dar’s chance to learn Whitespeak, the language of his people—but she did not want to appear too eager to accept his terms.
“The debt you are asking for seems unfair, Khon’Tor. You have only to provide education for Oh'Dar. I have to keep silent about two very serious crimes, crimes which would cost you your leadership and so much more,” she said.
“It is the deal you agreed to. But your point is well made. I will up my side of the arrangement tonight at the general meeting.” Khon’Tor’s voice was emotionless, cold, distant.
Adia paused in silence for just a moment. She increased the intensity of her stare, their eyes still locked together.
Then, as she had done before, Adia raised her hand and slammed her open palm against his, re-creating the loud resounding crack with which she had first accepted the agreement.
It was done.
Khon’Tor nodded at Adia and then toward the door, signaling that what needed to be said between them was accomplished. Adia turned, pushed the door aside, and left.
Acaraho had heard nothing, only the scrape of the door opening as Adia left the meeting room. He studied her as she came out, but as usual, said nothing.
They walked back in silence. Adia was deep in thought. Now Khon’Tor needed only to follow through on his part of the arrangement, and it was completed.
The moments seemed to creep by until it was finally time for the general assembly. Acaraho, Nadiwani, and Adia stood to the side of the far wall, which gave them a clear view of the front where Khon’Tor always stood.
The crowd murmured as the People speculated about the reason for this meeting. There was an excited air about the room, and all eyes fell on Khon’Tor as he and Hakani made their way through the crowd and up to the front of the enormous Great Chamber.
As was his custom, Khon’Tor raised his left hand when he was ready to speak. Once the room fell silent, he let it drop back to his side.
“Welcome. Thank you for coming. As you know, a great threat recently passed through our land. As you also know, one of our most important members, our Healer, recently had a terrible accident. I am glad to announce that she is expected to make a full recovery.”
With that, the crowd turned to Adia with happy faces.
Khon’Tor waited a moment for their attention to return to him and continued. “We are lucky to have many things to celebrate at this time. I am here with my mate, Hakani, to announce another blessing. Hakani is expecting an offspring!” he announced, causing a great commotion in the crowd. Nearly everyone had heard the rumors that they no longer shared the same sleeping area. Everyone believed they were estranged. So this was surprising news, to say the least. After much talking and turning of heads, they finally gave up a resounding cheer to congratulate the pair on this good news.
Khon’Tor waited for the cheering to die down before continuing.
“An offspring is always a blessing. An offspring is our assurance our people will continue. An offspring is innocent,” said Khon’Tor. Adia realized she was holding her breath.
Pausing a moment, he then looked at Adia and said, “All offspring are born innocent. All offspring deserve a chance at a satisfying and rewarding life. I know I have told you the Waschini are monsters. Everything I hear, every report coming in to the High Council, says this is true. But I have seen the boy, Oh’Dar. You all have. He is not a monster. He is just an offspring. He can never be returned to the White Wasters, so we must give him everything he needs to become a contributing member of our community.
“For this reason, I am asking that we all embrace this offspring as one of our own. I expect you to extend your acceptance to him as you would any offspring. I expect you to offer assistance to the Healer as you would any mother in the community. Oh'Dar is one of the People now. And as one of us, I also extend my support and protection to him.”
The room was dead silent.
As Khon’Tor finished, he raised his arm, palm up, and looked at Adia. Adia raised her arm, her palm facing his, and returned his gaze. It was done. The Rah-hora was enacted.
To anyone else, this was just Khon’Tor’s way of signaling that he was done speaking. But three people in the room knew something else much more important had just happened—Khon’Tor, Adia, and Acaraho.
From the platform, Hakani looked at Adia with hatred in her eyes.
It took quite a while for the assembly to break up. Well-wishers crowded around Khon’Tor and his mate and offered congratulatory back pats and hugs to Hakani. Though she had been isolated from the group, they now welcomed her back in. Others merely lingered, talking over what had just happened. The at
mosphere in the chamber was filled with cheer and happiness.
Nearly all the females came over to the Healer and offered words of support. They could not have spoken out publicly against Khon’Tor’s earlier decision to ostracize the offspring, but they could now let her know that in their hearts, they had never supported it. Eventually, Adia, Nadiwani, and Acaraho made their way out of the Great Chamber.
Khon’Tor smiled smugly as he watched them file out. I weathered it all. Adia is sworn to secrecy and will never reveal my crimes against her. I finally have her under my control. If it were not for this hateful female I am paired with and her seeding by another man, and the Waschini threat still on the horizon—but I cannot resolve those tonight. I need a break, however long it lasts, from the drama.
As Acaraho walked silently beside Adia, he finally admitted to himself that he cared for her more than as her protector. Acaraho had never been paired, had never mated. He was not only physically compelling, but his calm yet strong demeanor made him even more desirable. His treatment of the males under his direction won their trust and respect, and they were loyal to him to a fault. Anyone of the females in any community would have been thrilled to be selected as a mate for him. But he had always refused the consideration of the High Council to be matched with someone.
Acaraho now realized he would never be paired. Somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love with Adia. He knew he could never have her—that no male could. She was a Healer. But he wanted no other, and the idea of having to leave her side and take up a life with someone else was unacceptable to him. He was saddened by the idea that his role as her protector might someday end; the thought of not seeing her every day made his heart heavy.
Khon'Tor's Wrath Page 20
