Heir of Scars I: Parts 1-8 (65 page)

While the army was on the march, Adria and Mateko saw each other only seldom, and almost never alone. Though she felt they needed to speak privately about their growing affection, she was also glad the conversation had to be delayed. She felt guilty for it, but nonetheless enjoyed entertaining the possibility of love.

When she had maintained her distance from others, she had only felt a mild desire for such physical affections. 
But as soon as he...
she struggled to give thoughts to her feelings. 
As soon as we kissed, I very nearly forgot who I was, who we are.

“But... I am forsworn,” she told herself, and forced her thoughts to still, then, as she stared at the rain-soaked hide flap of her tent and tried to sleep — tried not to keep thinking of the ends of things.

As the days passed, and the pace of their movement grew more hectic, relations more strained, Adria felt more and more divided. Two hands or not, she felt stretched, each hand holding on to one of two extremes — Runner and Hunter, Aeman and Aesidhe, and the ideologies of Shísha and Preinon.

She felt less and less at home as her time with the Hunters in Rows went on. Her place at her uncle’s side was accepted, even assumed, and she had trained with them — even trained some of them — and yet, she was still somehow on the outside.

New rites and ceremonials began among these Hunters, as the traditions of the People and the teachings of Preinon began to reconcile. Those Who Stood Above initiated these, not Watelomoksho, and Adria watched as several of them were brought into their ranks, through what was called Holo Waktoyayo, The Path of Thorns.

“
When we meet the Others,
”
Lemanako said.
“We will not fire an arrow then flee. We will not strike from the trees, unseen. We will stand against them, and defeat them in the open, and suffer their blades, their spears, and the hooves of their horses. We will learn pain in a new way, and hold despite this, for the sake of our brothers.
”

And they learned this one step at a time. The new Shémaphho Chetopaya were sent to walk among brambles, among places where thorny vines hung thick between trees. Naked, they walked among them, slowly, without clearing the way, so that they were pricked and cut, step by step, and the pain and the blood lingered long upon their limbs.

“
Now you stand above,
” they were welcomed on the other side, and one among them with skill marked the breast of those who passed the trial with a quill and ink made from ash, tapping it, bit by bit, into the flesh of their chest, the shape of an eagle’s talon, a shadow of the Sun Dance which would never fade.

Not one among them failed the Path of Thorns.

Preinon was watching, as well, the first time Adria saw the marking done. She saw a shadow upon his face, but they did not speak of it.

And still, something in this appealed to her. Something in the ritual, the willingness to sacrifice what they had known, what they were, for the greater need of the People.

Would I leave them to save them, and is this path the same as leaving?
 she began to wonder. 
I have not chosen the Hunters above the Runners. They think I am here for my uncle and not for them. Can I blame them their lack of faith?

And except for Mateko, she felt certain that similar reservations were growing between her and the Runners, just as they seemed increasingly more uncomfortable with Preinon’s designs.

“
He makes difficult choices with little counsel,
” Chasebatu confided, after having reported from a scouting mission.

“
I understand,
” Adria nodded as she escorted him for a way as he left the camp. “
He must react quickly to the enemy.
”

Chasebatu nodded, but seemed unconvinced, though he embraced her as a friend in parting.

But then... if I am not convinced myself, why should I even try to convince him? Why apologize for Preinon, when I would yet change his mind instead?

It was not until the Runner had left her sight that she thought to tell him how much she missed his voice, his humor, his music. She nearly followed him.

“
Come with me,
” Preinon instructed just as Adria finished setting up her tent for the fifth time in as many days.

She nodded, shaking the joined branches at the front one last time to test their strength.

They did not walk far before the ground rose and the trees thinned, revealing a tall knot of a hill, bare and rocky above the surrounding landscape.

It seemed an afterthought, as if it had been left behind by the Steps of Amos, still more than a few miles to the north. With nothing but scrub to block the wind, the earth of the hill had eroded almost to its stony bones, providing a beautiful view and an ideal place of watch.

The river drew her attention first, running from the west parallel to the foothills, making its way east and a bit south to find the sea. Perhaps two miles north of the hill, an Aeman village lay upon the north riverbank, surrounded by fields on both the near and far side of the water.

Most of the summer fields were being harvested — probably oats. Others were plowed and ready for the planting of winter wheat. Most of those to the south of the river lay fallow. The village itself looked to be wood and thatched huts, though a small water mill lay beside a slender bridge across the river.

“It is called Palmill,” he answered. “They named it for the fog that clings to the river in the mornings. With any luck, it will prevent any of their scouts from seeing our advance.”

“We... attack them?” Adria shook her head. “...a border village?”

Preinon nodded, frowning. “There is a weakness in the line here. A single lance of Knights guards the village.”

“They are unaware of us?
” Adria scanned the horizon more closely. To their right, downriver, Adria could just make out a shape in the haze which rose above the tree line. “That fort is much too far to be of any help.”

“
Look to the left.
”

To the north and west of Palmill, perhaps twenty miles distant, another fort rested against the foothills. And although a thick covering of forest lay between the fort and the village, Adria could just make out a break in the canopy at several points.

“Not as simple as it seems,” she nodded. “A road runs from that fort — likely several banners of Knights, perhaps a full squadron. A hundred armed and mounted men in all, maybe more.”

She shook her head, trying to penetrate Preinon’s logic. Although she felt motivated to argue outright, she kept her tone even. “We could take the village, but then what? Could we hope to hold it against a squadron of men-at-arms? Do you mean to take villagers prisoner... for ransom...?”

“We are going to make ourselves known,” he said quietly. “We have been the Wilding Ghosts that haunt their children’s dreams for too long. They will see our faces. They will learn that we are capable of war and not simply subsistence theft and resigned retreat.”

Adria shook her head as he finished his rhetoric, now ready to argue outright. “It is surely a trap. Once we secure the village, in two or three hours we are surrounded by violet and black...”

“Of course it is a trap,” Preinon nodded.

“If their commander is as good as he seems, why would he make a trap so obvious?”

“In order to gauge our reaction,” he said. “He is speaking to me. It is a nod of recognition, even an invitation... a challenge. He has taken our measure as we have taken his.”

He thinks of this war as a dialogue... and he makes it his own?
 But she said nothing. His face held such assurance, his voice. 
How can I speak against his pride and anger? How have they grown so strong? Is he so like my father?

“Could it simply be a gambit?” she wondered aloud after a moment. “Perhaps he is willing to sacrifice for position. If we take the offered pawn, he can maneuver behind us.”

“Into the forest? And go where? And regardless, it would not be a sacrifice but an exchange, for we will gain position as well.”

Adria blinked. “Perhaps, but only if we chose to... advance...”

He said nothing.

“Uncle,” she whispered ardently. “Making ourselves known is one thing, but... are you actually planning to advance?”

“I have not decided,” he answered, a bit too quickly. “Nevertheless, so long as he believes we are capable of advancing, then he can be countered. We must take the bait. It is time.”

Adria swallowed and half turned away. He is lying, she realized angrily. He has d
ecided. And he is well capable of making sacrifices himself. But am I ready to challenge him? Can I even challenge him alone, truly?

As she considered if and how she would respond, Adria followed the line of the river up to the mountains of its birth, over which the sun was already beginning to descend. There was another village of sorts further up, she remembered, really more like a series of camps nestled in the corner where the foothills joined the mountains themselves.

It was called Cloville, and here the Aeman mined for iron and harvested wood. They floated what they gathered down the river, beyond Palmill and east, to towns where it could be sold and cut into lumber or smelted into steal.

The Runners had worried for a time, as this settlement had grown significantly in the past year, but they were not yet threatening the nearest Aesidhe camp, Watemicha Teleniya, which lay further into the valley.

But the Knights had not yet felt the need to erect another fort. Mines did not always prove out, and the workers had not yet brought families to Cloville. There was not even a road to the settlement, though Adria knew the Knights could scramble along the foothills to protect it if need be.

Mateko had visited the Aesidhe camp earlier in the summer. It was one of few near the border which remained self sufficient, and he had admired the tenacity of the Watemicha Teleniya, who had resolved not to move, despite the urging of the Runners.

We would not even have urged the elders,
 Adria remembered.
Except for the emergence of Preinon’s Hunters... the likelihood of escalating conflict.

“
Have you spoken with
Shísha?” She nodded resolutely, gaining some courage. “
I think
Metehãloweye
will not be wholly in agreement with this plan.
”

He said nothing for a moment, gave no expression. When he did speak, he was her teacher again. “Adria, you don’t need to hide your doubt behind the Runners or your Imatéli.”

She frowned with a little indignation and embarrassment in equal measure. Half of her was doing just as he said. 
But the other half is one of them. The other half speaks on their behalf. The voice of many in one.

“You think I am afraid...” Adria said.

He looked at her for the first time since they had arrived, and she resisted the urge to look away.

“There is a bridge you haven’t crossed,” he said. “You are well strong enough to face the enemy in the passion of the moment, as you have shown. But you fear you are not strong enough to face them in the open, with a plan, and among your brothers. You are not strong enough to lead. You don’t know if you have the will to lead, and you don’t know if you have the will to leave.”

It took a few beats of her heart to realize that although she was certain her own argument was just as strong, the threads of it fell away as the truth of his overcame her. 
Even if he is wrong, and this war is a foolish measure, he wages it, in some part, to show me how it is done. He doesn’t test my loyalty... He tests my resolve and my skill, just as he does this enemy.

Adria swallowed. “It is true.”

“This is why I unshackled you, Adria. Why I offer you a sword, and offer the enemy your name. You cannot remain divided. If you will not decide, life will truly be decided for you. Soon.”

Adria nodded. “It is true.”

They were both startled by Shísha’s voice. “You two have found a beautiful view.”

It took a moment for Adria to realize the joke, and she could not help but smile.