“I’ll take them fishing, and get us a fine feast,” his father had winked, leaving Tuthalya to care for their nanny. He grabbed the familiar two-pronged stick that was used to move hay. This was the chore he’d hated the most as a child, but for some reason it gave him comfort now.
“Tuthalya,” a groggy voice came from the house.
He turned to see Tersh coming out of the small, stone house.
“You’re finally up,” Tuthalya nodded at her, shovelling clean hay into the pen. “In the city you can wake whenever; here you must race the sun,” he grinned widely.
“Race to clean the goat pen?” Tersh gave a smile that said waking up for that was not her priority.
“Don’t worry, there is always work to be found in the valley. Everyone here is a farmer or herder, or related to one. We all learn how to care for the land, and you will too.”
Tuthalya laughed at the thought of a Whisperer farming. It was ridiculous. What would a Whisperer even grow? Nothing good grew in the desert. Then again, a year ago, he would have never imagined a Whisperer wearing foreign clothes, swaddled in wool and linen wraps, and standing in Kuwana Tak. If a Whisperer left the desert and never returned, were they still a Whisperer?
“I won’t have time to farm,” Tersh frowned. “I need to reach Nesate as quickly as possible.”
“Nesate?” a voice behind Tersh spoke.
Tersh turned around to see Tuthalya’s father Tallis coming from behind the house with a retinue of Tuthalya’s nephews following, carrying a basket with fish in one hand and a black net in the other. He was looking at them with mild confusion. He handed the basket to the eldest of the boys, and they disappeared into the house with it.
“What’s she asking about Nesate for?” Tallis put his hands on his hips, frowning.
“Her people are from the desert, she wants to experience real snow before she goes home.” Tuthalya winked at Tersh.
Tallis simply smiled, shaking his head and making the same laughter as Tuthalya as he walked into the house.
“What did you say?”
“I told him you want to go to Nesate.”
“And he laughed?”
“Because spring comes to the mountains slow. Here Kuwana Tak is not so high. The valley of Nesate is above the clouds. The higher you go, the colder it is.”
Tersh narrowed her eyes. “Say what you mean.”
“Spring has come to Kuwana Tak, and so the way between here and Hattute is safe. The way to Nesate is not. It’s still covered in ice and snow. You must wait for spring to climb a little higher, and then you can follow.”
“Why did you never tell me?” Tersh frowned.
Tuthalya shrugged. “You never asked.”
“So I must wait?”
“If you weren’t waiting here, you’d be waiting back in the city all the same.”
“How long?”
Tuthalya tossed her the hay fork, and Tersh caught it with a look of surprise.
“Long enough to learn to farm,” Tuthalya laughed.
Tuthalya wasted little time getting married. They had arrived a few days before the new moon, and on the evening the first light of the crescent beamed down, the silence that had ruled the village before was replaced with the sound of drums, laughter, and drunken singing. Tables were carried out of their houses and placed in a nearby field, and everyone made a special meal to mark the occasion. There was roasted lamb, honey pies, mead, and goat cheese. Estan had turned the cuts of mountain lion Tuthalya and Tersh brought into a spicy wheat and lion stew. People came from the nearby villages in Kuwana Tak to join in the festivities.
The bride was named Arinna. She was happy and full of life, younger than Tuthalya—younger than Tersh even. Her rosy cheeks were pulled tight into a smile. Her dark hair glistened silver in the light, curled, and fluttered in the wind, and her almond-shaped eyes were as dark as the mountains surrounding them. She was beautiful and obviously in love with Tuthalya from the way she looked at him and giggled every time he leaned over to whisper something in her ear.
The marriage itself was a simple affair. Tallis and Arinna’s father came together, their children smiling behind them. The two fathers took each other’s hands, holding their arms high, and speaking in unison they addressed the entire village.
“Today, our families are joined!”
The crowd cheered, and the dancing and feasting began. It was that simple, and soon nearly everyone gathered was happily drunk and dancing. Tersh was the exception, sitting off to the side and watching the party, but barely participating.
“Rattlecloak,” Tuthalya stumbled towards her as the night grew late, holding a cup overflowing with thick mead. “Are you drunk yet?”
“No,” Tersh smiled. She had no cup to drink from. “Are you really married now?”
“Oh, yes,” he laughed and sat down heavily on the wooden bench next to her.
The spring night was still chilly, but no one seemed to mind, probably warmed by the mead and the dance. Tuthalya was flushed, especially since he wore fine, new clothes made of black wool, a dark leather belt with a silver and gemstone buckle, and a silver chain around his neck. If there had been a crown on his head, he would have looked as rich as one of the kings in Hattute.
“I was surprised how quick it was,” Tersh said.
Tuthalya laughed. “Just what were you expecting?”
“I don’t know. More…speaking? For my people, those wanting to bind themselves together kneel before the three Rhagepe of their tribe. The Rhagepe ask questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Personal ones,” Tersh frowned.
“So three old crones ask you things like…who you’ve lain with?”
Tersh blushed. “Things like that, but also your prowess as a hunter, your skills as a healer, and on and on. Once the Rhagepe are satisfied, they bless you and that’s that. There is no great celebration; just the two go off to the desert and—” She blushed again.
“Make love beneath the full moon?” Tersh didn’t answer, and Tuthalya laughed again. “That sounds good, but this way is fun too,” Tuthalya raised his cup and drank heavily.
“In truth, we’ve been married since she was born,” he shrugged, taking another long sip of his mead, most of it running down his beard.
“How’s that?”
“Our fathers have always been close. She was born right before I was called to serve my king. It’s the call all young men receive.” He frowned, but quickly shook his head and his smile came back. “Anyway, since she’d be the right age once I returned to Kuwana Tak, my father arranged the match.”
“But, what if you hadn’t liked her when the time came?” Tersh was aghast.
Tuthalya just laughed, taking another sloppy sip and slapping the Whisperer on her back. “Then I would have picked another. There’s no love lost on such things among sheep herders. But look at her!”
Tuthalya pointed and Tersh found Arinna in the crowd, dancing with a group of young girls. She was holding the skirt of her soft, dark wool dress high, and her bare feet twirled on the grass. She was laughing and was young and beautiful.
“I returned here for a visit the summer before last and finally saw what kind of woman she had become. I made sure she fell in love with me before I left, but I wasn’t too worried she’d fall in love with another man,” Tuthalya motioned around the large gathering. “Boys and grandfathers only. All the young men go to their kings, and the truly unlucky ones go to die guarding the high mountain passes so the queens cannot march another army to the gates of Hattute.”
“They die in battle?”
Tuthalya shook his head. “They freeze, or starve…” Tuthalya stood up suddenly. A light had caught his eye. There was a bright, warm light on the outskirts of the village. “Fire.”
“What?” Tersh followed his gaze and saw the glow in the distance.
“Raiders!” He moved forward, and some of the old men noticed his change in attitude.
“Esta
n!” Tuthalya called out to his sister who came out of the crowd. Here smile fell off her face the moment she saw the serious look he wore. He spoke quickly to her and a moment later, she was gathering people together.
The music had stopped completely, and distress rippled through the crowd. A few people were crying out in alarm, looking for loved ones and running back to their homes. The men were rushing towards Tuthalya, looking to him for guidance.
“What is happening?” Tersh asked, a hint of panic in her voice. The fire looked like it was spreading.
“Sometimes, raiders come down from the mountains. Why tonight of all nights?” He cursed loudly. “Stay with the women, for protection.”
“You want me to protect the women?” Tersh asked incredulously.
“Don’t be a fool. Estan can wield a sword better than you with her left hand. They’ll protect you.”
Some of the men had spears but most had grabbed tools. The blacksmith held his hammer, the farmers their scythes and pitchforks. Even the one-armed Ashur had grabbed an axe for the fight. Estan came rushing back to them carrying two spears and a sword. She pushed one of the spears into Tersh’s hands hurriedly as she gave Tuthalya his sword and gave the other spear to Tallis.
“You should be safe in the house…unless the fire spreads,” Tuthalya frowned.
“What are you going to do?” Estan asked.
“Try to stop the fire from spreading,” and with that, Tuthalya and the others turned and ran towards the light.
They had only made it a few houses down when they heard a man scream wildly, and Tuthalya saw the figure running towards him. He was haggard, wearing dirty leather and fur, his hair and beard long and tangled. There was no doubt he was a raider, one of the mountain tribes had come down to raid their food.
The raider held a club in his hand covered in blood. Tuthalya raised his sword to meet the man when a spear flew past him. The spear found the man’s chest, and the raider stopped in his tracks as the tip skewered him. He fell over dead. Tuthalya turned to thank whoever had thrown the spear. It was Tersh who ran towards him, pulling her spear out of the raider’s chest and continuing on.
Under normal circumstances he would have spared a moment to be impressed by her, but there was no time to stop and remark on her abilities. The fire was getting brighter. He could feel the heat, and it made him run all the faster. Tersh ran side-by-side with them, her face had the same focus he’d seen when she had left to hunt the mountain lion. She was not what he had expected when he had first heard about the Whisperer.
They reached the blaze—at a large barn—and saw a dozen men with torches lighting the thatched roofs of nearby houses. They were wild mountain men, their clothes little more than rags and their weapons mostly improvised. Tuthalya screamed out in rage as he rushed towards the nearest one. The wild man had a jagged sword and raised it high to strike Tuthalya. He sliced at Tuthalya’s arm, but in the next moment Tuthalya cleanly cut open his stomach, and his organs dripped out as Tuthalya’s swords glimmered like rubies in the firelight.
The raiders were running now, taking whatever goods they could carry and running back to the mountains. They threw their torches onto the roofs of houses as they fled, probably lighting the fire as a distraction so they wouldn’t be followed. Tuthalya gave chase but felt a strong hand grab him. He turned to see his father shaking his head.
“Forget those bastards. We have to stop the fire!”
They began to organize themselves, fetching anything that could carry water, making a line and passing water towards the fire while empty vessels headed back towards the water sources. The heat from the fire was so intense some of Tuthalya’s hair curled.
“Tuthalya!” He turned and saw Tersh running towards him, her spear replaced by a clay vase full of water.
“I told you to hide!” Tuthalya yelled, grabbing the vase and throwing the water on the fire. The water evaporated in the heat even before it could reach the flames.
The barn was an inferno, and some of the houses near it had caught the flames and were quickly devoured. He saw some of the men had stopped trying to fight the fire, instead tearing down the next few houses over, breaking the timbers and carrying them away in an attempt to deprive the flames of kindling. Tuthalya joined them, grabbing an axe from one man and hacking at a door with it.
When the houses were destroyed and anything wooden was carried away, there was nothing left to do but try and help put out the fire. Tersh joined the men running buckets of water back and forth. The smoke and ash blackened everyone, and a few of the oldest men lay on the ground wheezing and coughing in exhaustion, unable to go on.
The sun rose before the fire completely died down. The pace and energy in the men was dying as well; they no longer ran back and forth from the river but walked. A few had started talking, already recounting to each other what they had seen and done in the brief fight. The women finally emerged from their houses and began to help care for the wounded, giving out bread and beer to those still working hard.
Arinna ran towards them, finding Tuthalya in the crowd and nearly tackling him to the ground with her embrace. He had a nasty cut on his arm he hadn’t noticed before now. He let his arm hang limply at his side, blood streaming down. Arinna burst into tears when she saw it, but Tuthalya just laughed and hugged her, kissing her forehead, smudging her smooth skin with soot.
The day after the fire few people were able to rise as early as they normally did. Tuthalya was one of only a handful of people who awoke early. He looked around the small house, particularly at his father and sister sleeping with the five young boys. Arinna was curled up under a heavy blanket. To his surprise, Tersh was gone. He went outside and sat against the wall, letting the sunlight fall on his face. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, a sleepy smile on his face.
“You look happy,” came Tersh’s voice.
Tuthalya gave a hoarse laugh. “I’m alive. You should be happy every morning you wake up and are alive. Especially when there’s a beautiful woman next to you who’s eager to make love.”
With great effort, Tuthalya pushed himself up, wincing in pain, the sword-cut on his arm had been cleaned and bandaged, but he could already see blood beginning to seep through the linen. Even then he managed to smile at Tersh.
“You’re up early,” Tuthalya remarked.
“I couldn’t sleep with all that grime still on my skin.” She had obviously gone down to the river to wash herself. Her hair was still wet.
For the first time, Tersh was not wrapped in too many dirty skins, nor her skin smudged with dirt and grime. She wore a newly cleaned tunic, and her cloak—the bones still turned inward to hide them. Her arms and legs were bare, her dark skin clean and unblemished. He could tell she had washed her hair because he could see the short black strands sticking out from beneath the skull she still wore. Her hair had lost its matted look and danced in the gentle breeze.
The skull too seemed cleaner. It’s white was brilliant in the sun. Even without a spear she looked like a warrior. The effect was complete since she had finally tied a cord from the skull around her jaw to keep it from falling forward. She no longer looked like some fantastical creature from the stories he’d heard growing up of the Whisperers of the Dead. She looked like a woman.
Deadlier too. “I was raised to hunt, not kill men,” she had claimed in Hattute. But he had seen her. There had been no hesitation when she threw that spear. She did not pause as she ran past that raider’s still dying body to yank her spear free and keep running. He still didn’t understand what she meant when she had called herself a true warrior of the Go’angrin…but he knew he believed it.
“You didn’t stay with the women last night.”
“It was two nights ago.” Tersh smiled.
“Was it? It’s hard to judge time when you’re having so much fun.”
“I couldn’t hide while you were all risking your lives.”
Tuthalya nodded. “I can respect that.”
“D
oes that happen often? The raiders?”
Tuthalya sighed. “More often than it should. All those soldiers, and the kings can never seem to spare any to protect their own people. It’s sickening.”
“At least no one died—none of your people, anyway.”
“This time,” he nodded. “Come, I want to show you something.
There was a small wooden boat out back of the house, and the two of them carried it on their shoulders down to the riverbed. The current wasn’t strong, so it was easy to paddle upriver, towards the grotto from where the river emerged. Tersh didn’t stop asking where they were going and why, but Tuthalya just kept smiling and nodding, saying she’d see when they arrived.
The large river split into smaller ones, each one going into one of the arched openings of the cave. Each column that split the river was one of the goddess’ fingers. With the sun behind them they could see there was a wide space on the other side of those openings. The sun was nearly at its zenith when the two finally entered. The arch was so tall that even if Tersh had stood on Tuthalya’s shoulders, she still wouldn’t have been able to reach the top of it, and the cavernous grotto that opened up before them was so high it was easy to imagine it took up the entirety of the mountain they were inside.
They paddled into a large dome, filled with a lake from one end to the other. Unlike most caves, this one was bright. Sunlight streamed in from archways, illuminating the water, which in turn reflected itself on the walls and ceiling, bright lines of light danced on the smooth curved stones like the villagers dancing before the raid. More than that, there were bright drawings painted on the walls, scenes of herders in the fields, of mountain lions and hunters fighting, and stranger things that they couldn’t decipher, symbols and hieroglyphs.
“This is our mother,” Tuthalya spoke softly but still his voice echoed around the cave.
“Why are we here?” Tersh finally pried her eyes off their surroundings and looked at the red-eyed Tuthalya.
“You know I came here to start a family.”
Pekari -The Azure Fish Page 8
