The Dawn King (The Moon People, Book Five)
Page 47
“When do we leave?” Caspian said.
“By noon tomorrow. I'll gather everyone tonight and spread the word. They must be ready to protect the village if the fates turn against us.”
As the men began leaving the house Caspian took Kale aside so that they could speak privately.
“You don't have to leave your family again for us. Everything you've done is more than enough. You saved Netya's life, and for that you will always have my gratitude.”
“I care about what happens to Kiren and the others too,” he said. “Besides, you and Fern are fools when it comes to passing for Sun People, and the temple warriors may still be searching for you.”
Caspian sighed, then squeezed the young man's shoulder and gave him a smile. “Your father was right. You are a man of honour.”
“I've never thought I was.”
“That's often what makes for the most honourable men of all. Any alpha would be proud to have you in his pack.”
Kale looked down to hide the flush of pride that lit his cheeks. “I don't know if I believe that, but thank you, Caspian.”
“Come, let's find Fern. We have another journey to prepare for.”
—42—
Adel's Hope
A cold fury burned within Adel's chest whenever she saw Thakayn, but he never managed to provoke her to the brink of violence again. Before her night with Jarek she had felt like she'd been struggling to hold back a knife from plunging into her breast, and now that she had let it impale her there was no reason to keep on struggling. It would wound her, kill her, but she didn't need to fight against it any longer. It had happened. She'd accepted that she loved Jarek, always would, and that she meant to spent the rest of her life apart from him. Whenever she reminded herself of that bittersweet heartache, Thakayn's provocations somehow lost their bite. It reminded her of the days of her youth, when spending time with Jarek had taken the sting out of her father's blows. She no longer needed to freeze her heart in ice to protect herself. Instead, she withdrew it to a place of love, and in that place it became truly untouchable.
The morning after her night with Jarek they had been rudely awoken by a warrior hammering his fist upon the domicile wall. She'd been summoned immediately by Thakayn. When she asked why, the warrior said the priest of the Sister desired to share morning audiences with her the same way Atalyn had.
Thakayn forced her to eat a meal with him with the map spread out beneath their bowls, a taunting smile on his lips the whole time. Adel said nothing to him, but that did little to dull the high priest's malicious glee. He enjoyed holding his power over others. The threat the map imposed was more potent than if a guard had been standing with a knife at her throat. Adel pitied the poor concubines who served this man, for he was the sort who needed to make others feel weak so that he could feel strong. As unpleasant as the meal had been, Adel managed to leave with a mild sense of vindication when she turned in the doorway and told Thakayn that the cut on his face was likely to leave a scar. He'd clenched his fist and stared at her angrily as she left.
Every day after that Thakayn summoned her once again, forcing her to share his meal as he made idle comments about what he might do to her once he was Dawn King. Some of them rang hollow, others chilled her, but none managed to evoke the same murderous fury she'd felt before. The urge to call upon her wolf and tear out his throat never returned, even when Thakayn was at his most vile. Adel thought of Jarek and the nights they had been sharing, and her anger dulled to a manageable burn. She hated Thakayn. Part of her wished that he would choke upon his food one morning. Killing might not have been her way, but if the spirits decided that he no longer had any place in this world then she would lose no sleep over it.
The high priest continued to torment her outside of his chamber as well, ordering guards to follow her all day long. One of them, she noticed, was always the same man. He shared his master's sinister attitude, and unlike the other warriors who always turned their backs respectfully when she went to use one of the earth privvies, he leered at her in a way that brought a shameful burn to her cheeks. The man lingered in doorways and leaned in uncomfortably close when she tried to converse with others, making it difficult to ever share private conversations with Netya and Kiren. Thakayn knew he could not harm her while she still had Jarek's protection, but there was nothing stopping him from making her existence miserable in other ways. He was trying to wear her down until she broke.
Only at night was she able to truly relax, closing her domicile screen and slipping into the furs alongside Jarek. Word of their nights together had surely spread throughout the temple by now, but she hardly cared. It was bliss to forget the world and lose herself to his embrace every evening, forgoing sleep so that they could make love and share stories about the time they had spent apart. Adel told him of Netya, the harrowing journey around the mountains to find their new den, her rivalry with Khelt, the fight against Alpha Miral, and the tricks she had used to create magic purple fire from rock dust. Jarek was endlessly amused by her ingenuity. She'd always thought of her magic as a hard, practical necessity of survival, especially when she'd had no warriors to protect her, and aside from a sense of pride in the effectiveness of her tricks, she'd never regarded them as something to be celebrated. Jarek saw them differently. To him her magic was beautiful and creative, and he wished he could see it with his own eyes.
One night he brought a soft scroll of bark to her chamber, and after stretching it flat over a piece of wood he showed her how to draw pictures with charcoal. They were not the basic symbols the Moon People sometimes used, nor a mystic's wild abstractions, but lines that curved to resemble the shape of her own face. She was shocked to see how Jarek could make the picture lighter or darker in places by rubbing with his fingers, and when she recognised her own mane of dark hair taking shape she almost told him to stop. It was frightening to see a resemblance of herself captured within the bark, but Jarek's drawing intrigued her so much that she let him carry on.
In those moments she was truly happy. Every night was just as memorable as the first, whether they made love, shared stories, or simply lay together while they slept. It was the life she might have lived had she turned her back on her people all those years ago. It was the life she'd always wanted for the people who followed her, and it was the life she was determined to bring Netya back to so that she could be with Caspian again.
The happiness of those nights allowed her to endure Thakayn's unpleasantness, and she rose each morning renewed in her determination to stop him from becoming the Dawn King.
Eral avoided her for a while after their last meeting, but when it was his turn to join the other priests in the feasting hall they began taking audiences together again. The laypeople seemed less hesitant to approach her when she was in the company of a high priest, and they finished their first day having successfully tended three young men who had all managed to displace bones during a wrestling bout in the village.
After that Eral confided in her that he was beginning to doubt his decision to support Thakayn. A man named Rodan, the chieftain of his former village, had recently arrived and taken audience with him, voicing concerns that their old enemy Mountain Sky might gain power. Thakayn had promised to protect Eral's village in exchange for his support, but Hasham had begun making similar offers as well. Eral was still reluctant to change his mind, for Hasham apparently had a habit of making lavish promises that he forgot about later, but Adel reminded him that Thakayn might prove to be just as unreliable.
In the end she could not persuade Eral to change his mind entirely, for Thakayn was the one who had made the firmer promise. Instead he met her half way. When Radeen-Na made a decision on who he was going to support, then Eral would also support whoever he chose. That way the conclave would not hit a stalemate, and there would be a definitive answer to the question of succession.
This allowed Adel and the others to focus their attention on the priest of the Brother instead. Some days Radeen-Na was irritable, seemin
gly looking for any excuse to turn on either Hasham or Thakayn, while on others he was exasperated and noncommittal. It was clear that he was deeply unhappy with the situation and would likely regret whichever choice he ended up making. According to Jarek he gruffly rebuked any attempts to sway him during the conclave meetings, and the other high priests were beginning to grow impatient. Obvious attempts to change his mind only made him more resistant, as if he feared being used as a tool by his rivals.
One afternoon, once she had finished taking her audiences, Adel found herself summoned to Hasham's table at the end of the feasting hall. She'd spoken little with the priest of the Father during her time in the temple, though not through any lack of trying. He was the kind of man who spared little attention on women unless they were wide-bottomed, voluptuous, and willing to drape themselves over him while he feasted. At first his dismissive attitude had rankled Adel, but she'd come to realise that there was little ill intent behind it. He was simply a man who relished his pleasures, and he was used to men being the only ones who engaged him in serious discussions of leadership. He'd noticed the intelligence with which Adel conducted herself when taking audiences, however, and on that day he was willing to speak with her.
“I must confess,” he said, “I've not a clue why Atalyn brought you here, bless his spirit. You're an odd woman, Seeress, and odd women are usually trouble.”
“I certainly am,” she replied with a knowing smile. It had grown surprisingly easy to let go of her prideful habits ever since she started spending time with Jarek. “I am sure it will please you to hear that I have been using my talents for trouble against Thakayn and not you.”
Hasham's broad shoulders rumbled with laughter. He leaned back in his seat and drummed his fingers against his stomach in merriment. “It does. Ah, I only jest, though. Jarek is a good man, and everyone knows you're his woman. A good woman of a good man is a friend to me.”
Adel inclined her head politely. “I am glad you think so.”
Hasham leaned forward, the table creaking between them as he rested his elbows upon it. “You're liked by the people, Seeress. Jarek tells me nothing about who you are, but I can tell he thinks you have something important to ask of me. So what is it, hm? What blessing do you want from Hasham after you help him become Dawn King? I would offer you priesthood, but you are a woman. Perhaps a place of status among our concubines would please you?”
“What if I asked to become a priest anyway?” she asked curiously.
Hasham frowned. “There are no female priests.”
“Why not? I have seen your concubines perform similar duties. Are there not women in these lands who know the healing ways like me? Do none of them commune with the spirits?”
A smile spread across Hasham's face. “You have very strange ideas, Seeress. Perhaps one day I will send a pilgrimage to your lands to bring more women like you to our temple. Where is it that you come from, anyway?”
“Far, far to the west.” It was a dangerous clue to give, but if there was any hope of repairing the progress she had made with Atalyn then she needed to begin somewhere.
“In the savage lands,” Hasham said. “Jarek came from there also. Do you know as much about the Moon People as he does?”
“I do. In fact, it was Atalyn's interest in the Moon People that drew his attention to me.”
“Hm. Well, I have no interest in legendary demons. It's a good thing you are beautiful and have a healer's touch, or I'd have you cast out of the temple tomorrow!” He laughed uproariously.
Adel remained patient with his humour. “What about the pilgrimages you send into the Moon People's lands for metal?”
That brought an end to Hasham's laughter. Suddenly he was serious again, adopting the sharp-witted look she'd seen on his face when he was dealing with the traders.
“What about them?” he asked. Hasham was a man who knew how to pick up on the scent of an offer.
“The Moon People know those lands better than anyone. They can run as fast as your canoes travel downriver. Why would you risk the lives of your warriors when you could trade with the Moon People's chieftains instead?”
“If the beasts could be reasoned with then I would, but they don't even speak our tongue.”
“I speak theirs. I have lived alongside them, just as men like Liliac did. What if I could have the Moon People bring metal down your river, straight into the heartland plains?”
“Ah, so it's riches you want,” Hasham said. “If you could do such a thing then I'd dress you in a gown of metal rings and make you a crown of the largest, roundest sea stones in the world.” He smiled again. “But I'll believe it the day the sun rises at night.”
“Then I shall have to make you believe it.” Adel sensed she had pushed far enough for now. Peace might not appeal to Hasham, but trade certainly did, and traders thrived on making new friends. If he thought he could benefit from establishing a relationship with the Moon People, then peace might follow naturally.
Hasham regarded her for a short while, then gave an amused nod. “We'll see. First I want to hear about this trouble you've been making for Thakayn. I know Eral has gotten some favourable ideas from you, but our boneheaded friend Radeen-Na is the bigger problem, I think.”
“I agree. He seems to hate you. What can be done to make him hate Thakayn even more?”
“Oh, you've got the wrong idea in your head, woman. Radeen-Na is a warrior. Always on his guard, that one. If he smells a trick his head ducks down and his spear comes up. That girl of yours, the simple one, she's pulling the right thread to get Radeen-Na's attention.”
“Kiren,” Adel said. “She is not simple, she just doesn't understand your tongue.”
Hasham waved a hand dismissively. “Well, she's in his domicile every other night. If you can teach her a few sweet words to whisper into his ear then that will do more than anything either of us can accomplish. Women have a way of getting under a warrior's guard. I've been trying to convince Lydane to talk sense into him, but she's a stubborn one too.”
“Who is Lydane?”
Hasham slapped his stomach. “The only concubine with a belly as big as mine! She's carrying Radeen-Na's child.”
“How does a concubine know whose child she carries?”
“You tell me. Women have their ways, don't they? Perhaps the spirits came to her in a vision. Anyway, Radeen-Na believes it, and he's always wanted a son. If anyone's to convince him to support me it'll be one of his lovers.”
Adel considered his words before responding. “Thank you for telling me. Kiren struggles with your tongue, and she dislikes deception, but perhaps all she needs to do is tell Radeen-Na the truth. Thakayn has not been kind to us since we arrived.”
“I've seen his guards following you everywhere you go,” Hasham said. “Radeen-Na wouldn't like that. We might disagree on many things, but in that way we're alike. It isn't right for men to abuse their power over women.”
Adel felt a mild twinge of guilt. Men and women aside, she'd certainly not been reluctant in imposing her authority upon others in the past. When she thought back to the way she'd treated Vaya, she hated to think that Kiren might have seen her the same way she saw Thakayn now. She vowed to listen to her pack more often once she returned home.
“I will speak with Kiren,” she said. “Hopefully you will be the next Dawn King soon.”
“And then you can tell me how you plan on persuading the Moon People to give us their metal.”
Adel smiled, pleased that her idea was still fresh in Hasham's mind. The high priest did not think it so ludicrous after all. As long as he remained open to the possibility, she still had a chance to return home with what she wanted.
The question of making peace with Hasham remained in her thoughts as she left the feasting hall and made her way up to the domiciles. Convincing the other packs to gather metal for the Sun People would be difficult, and doing it by herself would be risky. It would mean sending many of her warriors away for long periods at a time. They said t
he metal came from a great mountain that had been split open by a shaking of the earth. Finding the place would not be difficult, especially if it lay close to the river Liliac had used, but they would have to learn how to craft canoes of their own if they wanted to transport the metal easily. It would be challenging, but not impossible. In the long term she would need to persuade the other alphas to accept that the Sun People were not their enemies. That was the kind of thing that might take a generation. She'd probably be an old woman by the time the other packs came around to her way of thinking.
Adel sighed, accepting that she would simply have to be patient. There was no magic that could mend the rift between their peoples swiftly, but perhaps trade was a good starting point. The Moon People had no use for raw metal, for they did not understand how to turn it into the tools and weapons the Sun People made, yet they might value the things that the Sun People could trade them in exchange. Perhaps if Adel allowed her own pack to prosper through trading then she could invite other friendly alphas to see how they had benefited from the Sun People's friendship. Then, at the great gathering, she could act as a guide to bring the rest of the packs into the fold. It would mean repairing her relationship with Alpha Khelt. Of all the great packs, his had been one of the few to have dealings with the Sun People in the past, making him the perfect ally in such an endeavour. The prospect was a daunting one given the bad blood between them. Caspian and Netya would have to introduce the idea to Khelt first, then perhaps she could step in once he was ready to talk.
Many challenges would surely await her regardless of the initial progress she made: stubborn alphas, traditionalists longing for a return to the old ways, rivals who sought to sabotage her efforts, and more. This would indeed be the work of a lifetime, yet it was a lifetime she was willing to commit if it ensured the survival of her people. She did not want Netya and Caspian's grandchildren to live in a world where the Sun People had begun creeping beyond the mountains as enemies rather than friends.