The Dawn King (The Moon People, Book Five)
Page 55
Carefully, so as not to alarm him, Jarek rose to his feet. “I think you saved ours. You fought like the Brother himself.”
Radeen-Na rubbed the back of a hand across his eyes and shook his head. “Hasham is dead.”
Jarek looked to the priest of the Father's fallen body and swallowed the rising lump in his throat. “Mountain Sky, too.”
Radeen-Na spat on the floor. “Curse him. Where is Thakayn?”
Jarek staggered back toward the passageway. Now that the fighting was over he felt exhausted. His hands had begun to shake, and though the burning intensity of the poison was fading the wound in his side still throbbed. Bracing a hand against the wall, he looked into the passage and saw that Thakayn was gone, leaving behind only a spattering of blood that disappeared into the darkness. Eral was still in the corner, staring at him fearfully.
Radeen-Na came to Jarek's side and cursed. “The snake still lives while others die.”
Jarek shook his head. “Not for long. I gave him a wound only the spirits can save him from, and I doubt many spirits favour that man any more.”
Radeen-Na stared at him, plainly struggling with the revelation that Jarek was more than he'd appeared to be. The Moon People were demons, yet Jarek had fought with him and saved his life. For a warrior, that was a bond that ran deep. Jarek did not have the strength, nor the words, to say anything to him in that moment. Eventually Radeen-Na let out a long breath and turned away, staggering to the table. He dropped his blade with a clang and clutched his bleeding forearm.
“Eral, bring me water and something to bind this.”
Eral flitted past Jarek and went to fill a bowl from one of the pitchers beneath the slitted windows. He was plainly terrified, but at least he had not run in fear at the sight of Jarek's wolf.
Silence filled the chamber. Jarek tried his best not to focus on the smell of blood, nor to look at the bodies littering the chamber floor. He'd barely realised that changing shape had torn his clothing away. He dressed himself in the remnants of his tunic as best he could, though it was now little more than rags. How had everything gone so terribly wrong? Thakayn was finished, but half the conclave was dead as a result. Without Hasham, they had no Dawn King. Now Radeen-Na would probably take his place. He was a fine warrior, but he would make for a ruthless leader. Would he be any better than Thakayn in the end?
The realisation that the future of the Sun People might be crumbling before his eyes filled Jarek with despair. Only the thought of Adel kept him strong. At least she was safe now. Thakayn would not be able to hurt her again.
“What will we do now?” he asked, not really knowing to whom he spoke.
Radeen-Na gave him a hard look. “Bring the seeress here. Then you will tell us the truth. All of it. I want to know what part her magic played in this. I want to know why you are... as you are.”
Jarek nodded slowly. “Very well. I will have Ryndel search for Thakayn, and the others—”
“No one is to know what happened here,” Radeen-Na said firmly. “Not until we have decided what comes next. No one else enters this chamber,” he looked at Eral, “and no one leaves.”
Eral mumbled his agreement. He'd not taken his eyes off Jarek since the fight ended.
Radeen-Na put his head in his palm and sighed. “We are the ones who must decide the future of our people now. A fool, a boy, and a warrior.”
—50—
A New Power
Ryndel and the other guardsman were shocked by Jarek's tattered appearance, but after everything else that had happened that night they chose not to question it. They had taken the women back into one of the rooms at the end of the hallway and moved the bodies aside, but thick pools of blood still stained the floor. It was fortunate that no one else had any reason to venture into this part of the temple. The other priests, servants, warriors and concubines were still blissfully unaware that violence had visited their sacred home yet again.
Despite her wounds Adel staggered to her feet when she saw him. Jarek cupped the back of her neck and kissed her, wishing more than ever that he could embrace his love without hurting her.
“What has happened?” she whispered, speaking in the tongue of Jarek's birth pack.
“Hasham and Mountain Sky are dead, and two more warriors with them.”
Adel's brow furrowed. “And Thakayn?”
“I bit him. I had to take the shape of my wolf.” Jarek briefly explained what had taken place in the conclave chamber. He added that he did not think Radeen-Na and Eral would turn against them, but they were unlikely to be welcoming either. “Stay here if you are too weak,” he said as Adel struggled to step forward. She shrugged him off.
“I'll not lick my wounds while you decide the fate of your people. Help me to the chamber.”
With her arm around his neck the two of them made their way back down the passageway. Ryndel assisted them, supporting Adel on her other side. Despite what Radeen-Na had said, when Jarek saw a spatter of Thakayn's blood on the floor outside the conclave chamber he asked Ryndel to follow it.
“Whose is it?” the guardsman asked hesitantly.
“Thakayn's.”
“What happened? I will tell the other warriors—
“No,” Jarek insisted. “Ryndel, swear to me on the spirits that you will tell no one. Not until you have found him and brought word back to me. Wait outside the conclave chamber and call in when you return.”
With obvious difficulty Ryndel forced a nod and turned to follow the blood trail. The spattering of crimson droplets was not as heavy as Jarek had thought, and he was beginning to worry that Thakayn might survive his wound long enough to seek vengeance on them.
Following his gaze, Adel said, “The sickness will already be taking him by now.” The bitterness of her voice unnerved him, but he could hardly blame her for taking cold satisfaction in Thakayn's fate. Adel would not turn to violence as a solution, but neither would she lament the deaths of those who invited it upon themselves. Thakayn had started this fight, and he had paid for it.
“What if he survives?” Jarek asked. “What if he becomes a sun wolf like Netya?”
“He will still be crippled with pain for days. The temple warriors will have found him by then.” Adel grimaced. “He brought this upon himself.”
“I could have let him run. I've never killed a man before, Adel.”
She turned and touched his cheek with the back of her burnt hand. Even the lightest brush made her wince, but she did not withdraw. “I know, but there was none more worthy of a death than Thakayn. Fate guides us this way somehow.” She sighed. “I just want to dull my senses with healing herbs and fall asleep in your bed.”
“You still can. Radeen-Na can wait until tomorrow to speak with you.”
“No, it must be now.”
“What will you tell them?”
Adel hesitated for a moment, then said, “Everything. He is the man who will become the Dawn King now, is he not? I must try my best to do with him what I attempted with Atalyn and Hasham.”
“I pray he will listen. Radeen-Na is a man of action, not words.”
“I know.” Adel shrugged. She had a tired, dazed smile upon her lips that appeared every bit as resigned as it was content. It was the smile of a woman who had chosen desperate mirth over crushing despair. For as little hope as she had of achieving her goal, she was still going to keep on trying. It both pleased and saddened Jarek to see her like this. When she arrived she had been so hostile to him, so afraid of exposing herself to yet more heartache. Since then she'd accepted the grief they would both eventually have to face, and in doing so she had also accepted that some things were beyond even her control. Adel, who had always fought so stubbornly to remake the world around her, had finally resigned herself to the listless tides of fate. She was weaker, yet stronger for it. She might not be as fierce as she had once been, yet she would not allow failure to cripple her either. This was the woman she would have become had they remained together all those years ago.
Jarek put his arm around her waist and helped her carefully down the passageway to the conclave chamber. When they arrived Adel took in the bloodstained carnage in a single glance, then addressed Radeen-Na directly.
“You wished to speak with me.”
“With both of you.” Radeen-Na was seated upon his bench with Eral beside him. He had both fists clenched atop the table. A strip of cloth bound the wound on his forearm, and his jaw was set in a resolute grimace. He pointed with two fingers at the benches opposite. “Tell me who you are. Tell me who Jarek is. Tell me what drove Thakayn to this madness.”
The pair of them sat, and they told him everything. Adel attempted to do most of the talking, but her breath was short, and Jarek frequently had to stop her when she doubled up with pain. He recounted the story of how he had come to the Dawn King's lands as a youth, how he had known Adel before that, and how Thakayn had set all of this in motion by ordering Liliac to take Adel captive. Radeen-Na listened in silence, offering no comment as they spoke. Eral kept looking at him anxiously, plainly hoping that the other high priest would tell him whether to accept or reject the story, but no such prompt was forthcoming.
At long last, when Jarek and Adel had nothing left to say, Radeen-Na spoke. “You say Atalyn was ready to make peace with you.”
“He never saw the Moon People as our enemies,” Jarek said. “He would have rather seen our peoples unified, the same way he brought the villages of the heartland plains together.”
Radeen-Na let out an exasperated breath. “And you mean to keep striving for this peace?”
“If the leaders of your people will listen,” Adel said.
“Then I hope the next Dawn King chooses wisely.”
His response surprised Jarek. “But that must be you.”
Radeen-Na shook his head. “No. I will never seek that power again.”
“You put yourself forward alongside Hasham and Thakayn.”
“And look what came of it!” Radeen-Na yelled, sweeping out his arm to gesture at the bodies on the floor. “I was deceived, shown to be a fool by a man who would have led us with lies and betrayal. I followed Atalyn because he was wise. He was the only man who ever stayed my spear with words of reason. I will serve as the Brother's high priest, but I will never seek to rise above the position the spirits chose for me.”
“Then who will lead you?” Adel asked.
Jarek saw that both Eral and Radeen-Na were looking at him.
“I cannot! I am no more a leader than either of you. If the people need a Dawn King who can make them smile and offer kind blessings then I could be that man, but,” he held up his palms hopelessly, “I cannot decide where to build villages or how to divide the year's harvest.” It was a foolish notion. He'd not even thought to remind them that he was one of the Moon People, for that seemed like the least of the reasons as to why he would be unsuitable as the next Dawn King. He simply did not have the mind for it. Even if they tried to force it upon him, he would refuse.
“Then it must be Radeen-Na,” Eral said. “I will not do it.”
“And as I told you, boy, neither will I,” Radeen-Na growled.
The three high priests looked at one another, each hoping that one of the others would relent and shoulder the burden. An awkward silence filled the chamber, straining the air taut until the atmosphere was almost unbearable. Jarek began to despair. An unwilling or incompetent leader might prove just as ruinous as a wicked one. If none of them wanted to become the Dawn King, what were they to do?
It was Adel who finally broke the silence. She spoke with a heavy weight to her voice, as if she had been considering the matter for far longer than any of the high priests. “I have been a leader all my life. I have dealt with rival clans and stubborn alphas. If you need my help, I offer it freely.”
Radeen-Na shook his head abruptly. “You are not one of our people, and you are a woman. You insult the Dawn King's name by suggesting—”
“I am not suggesting that you ask me to take his place. I do not know these lands, and I have much still to learn of your people.” She looked at Jarek. “But if a leader were to be found who could win their hearts, then my voice could guide him.”
All three of them were staring at Jarek once again. A prickle ran down his spine. The wound in his side throbbed distractingly. What Adel was suggesting was hopeless. They had already agreed that nothing like it could ever happen.
“But you will have to leave soon,” he said.
That bleak, wistful smile touched Adel's lips again. “Not if I choose to stay.”
“Your pack needs you.”
“They may need me here more than they need me there. If I could be with a Dawn King who was dedicated to peace, I might serve all of the Moon People better than any alpha who dwells among them.”
Jarek felt his chest tightening. He could not allow himself to believe it. Would she really stay?
“Do not do this just for me.”
“I would do it for all the people of this world. For yours, for mine, for you, and for me. The Sun People need guidance. The Moon People need peace.” Their eyes met, and Jarek understood that there was more left unspoken.
You and I need each other too.
Adel would never have stayed for her sake alone. She would always be wherever her people needed her most. Yet with Jarek as the Dawn King and her as his advisor, they would finally have a reason to be together. A reason that could serve both the needs of their hearts and the needs of their people.
Swallowing hard, Jarek turned back to the others. “Could you accept this? A man born of the Moon People as your leader?”
“And a witch at his side?” Adel added.
Radeen-Na clenched his fists together and rested them beneath his chin. “There are no stronger warriors than men of the Moon People.”
“What if the seeress is trying to trick us?” Eral said. He averted his eyes shamefully from Adel. Jarek knew the pair of them had grown friendly during their audiences with the laypeople.
“If this is a deception,” Radeen-Na said slowly, “then I will kill both of them myself. I have sat with you in this chamber for many years, Jarek. You know I speak the truth.”
“I do.”
The priest of the Brother locked eyes with him. “Good.” He turned to Eral. “We alone know their secret. That will be our power over them. If Jarek rules as Atalyn would have willed it, then we shall never speak of what we saw him do here in this chamber. But if he dishonours his duty, we will make him suffer for it.”
“I am the same man I have always been,” Jarek said. “I am one of the Sun People. Spirits willing, you will never see me take the shape of a wolf again.”
A faint smile touched the corner of Radeen-Na's mouth. “Whatever else may lie within him, he is a man of honour. Like Atalyn was.”
Eral's shoulders sagged with relief. Now that Radeen-Na had given his approval, his own apprehensions about Jarek seemed to have left him. “Then I agree. You will have my support too.”
“What will you tell the people?” Adel asked. Jarek could tell she already had an idea in mind, but she did not want to impose her will upon the high priests before they'd had their say. It was that kind of wisdom that had made Atalyn a good leader.
“The truth,” Radeen-Na said. “Thakayn's treachery led to this. No one will stand behind him after they learn he was the one who killed Atalyn.”
“Would they accept Jarek as their new leader?”
“They will be happy to. He is the favourite of the laypeople.”
“In the temple village I am,” Jarek said, “but the other villages may think differently. I don't look like them. That makes strangers nervous.”
“Then we will change their minds,” Radeen-Na said firmly.
Yet Jarek had raised a good point, and Adel wanted to discuss if further. There was much they would need to consider and many preparations that would have to be made. Jarek was glad she was there, for he would not have been able to give the matter the same dep
th of consideration. Adel had a way of seeing problems before they happened and making space to account for them.
The four of them talked through the night, a strained, intense energy staving off their weariness. It was one of the strangest nights of Jarek's life. Adel should have been resting, but she refused to leave her seat, though in the end she did allow Eral to tend her burns with a salve and confirm that she had broken one of her ribs. The high priest was surprised when Adel reassured him that her wounds would mend quickly once the effect of Thakayn's herbs wore off. Radeen-Na was deeply impressed. Jarek suspected he would end up sharing many conversations with the priest of the Brother about the Moon People's hardiness in battle.
The urgency of the situation gave him focus, but it was hard to distance himself from the conflicting emotions that warred for space within him. The smell of blood was a constant reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the temple that night. He would mourn Hasham soon, but for the time being he could not bear to look at the priest of the Father's body. And then there was his future with Adel. It felt wrong to feel joy at a time like this, and in truth he was not sure that he could, not after everything else that had happened, yet the flicker of hope licked through him like a guttering flame. She meant to stay with him. He tried not to let himself believe it, for he was sure that something would happen to make Adel change her mind, yet the longer they spoke the more clear it became that he would need her here at his side if he wanted to take up the mantle of Dawn King. For all of his wistful memories of her, despite every wonderful night they had shared, he had never allowed his thoughts to linger on what might await them if they were to stay together indefinitely. Like his grief, it was an emotion too large for him to acknowledge yet. Whenever he thought about it his chest felt full and warm with joy that threatened to bring tears to his eyes. He wanted to embrace that feeling, but not yet. It still seemed too good to be true.