Heir of Scars I: Parts 1-8 (69 page)

“Like…” Adria sighed, nodded in revelation. “Like my father.”

“You asked if it has been decided.” He reached both of his hands into his pockets, then pulled them out again, balled into fists, and offered them to her. “Choose.”

“Does it matter?” she asked, smiling a little.

“Choose and see,” he shrugged. It seemed a strange motion for him to make.

She glanced over her shoulder, where Mateko had finished a word, perhaps, and had turned his head only part of the way to try to follow them. But she could not detect any motion in him now. Turning back, she pointed to Tabashi’s slate-gray right hand.

He turned his fist over and opened it to reveal a coin, one of her father’s gold Crowns, upon his palm.

“I’ve won,” Adria sighed. “But I assume there is a lesson in this. You knew I would choose this hand?”

“Is that what you believe, Idonea?”

He calls me by my family name?
Adria sighed.
But then, I called him Watemezi.

Still, Adria nodded. “You have watched me. You repeat the lessons of my teachers. You share this dream of Tainábe with me. Yes… you knew what I would choose.”

Tabashi opened his other palm, revealing an identical coin within.

Adria smiled. “Another lesson, then... another riddle.”

He said nothing. She looked back to Mateko, whose eyes had still not found her. She looked up, and the trees felt no wind, though beyond them, somehow, the stars seemed to turn too fast. But when she blinked, they found their place again, in stillness. They repeated this several times, as she blinked, and she could not begin to understand.

And a raven, waiting to call. Again.

Wait for the call… Once more for the crows. Ashes, ashes, they all fall…

“You play both sides,” she ventured as she turned back to Tabashi. “You win, no matter which direction I take, which hand is chosen. If I follow the Runners, you know the result, and have something to gain. If I follow Preinon... the same.”

Still, he said nothing, but seemed to enjoy watching her as she thought, as she spoke. She found herself looking at the raven again, the stars, and then at Mateko, who had at last nearly found her. When he found her, she knew, the crow would call. Tabashi would be gone, and the dream would be over.

How do I know that?
 She wondered.

“Perhaps you know your own limits,” Tabashi said.

She turned back on him. “You do hear my thoughts.”

He blinked both pairs of eyelids. “You were speaking aloud.”

Adria couldn’t remember. “Do you have anything else to tell me, Watemezi?”

“I have a story,” he nodded. “A story of two brothers. When King Ebenhardt of Heiland marched against Duke Preinon, the duke was indeed betrayed by his lieutenant. This lieutenant accused his duke of consorting with the Wilding, and the King’s Knights and Sisterhood came for him. But they did not surprise him. That is not how they won.”

Adria swallowed.

“To ensure victory for the king, and for Matron Taber who marched beside him, the lieutenant and knights loyal to him kidnapped the betrothed of Duke Preinon.”

Adria tried not to show her surprise. How could he not have told me this...? Even in his reluctance... How could I not somehow know?

The Moresidhe continued, uncharacteristically quickly. “King Ebenhardt offered her life in exchange for Preinon’s surrender of his lands and title. The Duke gave his word, but nonetheless managed to affect his escape, hoping his brother would hold to his word, as well. But in time, the lady was dead, and Duke Preinon’s armies scattered, his lands forfeit.

“When the Duke learned of her death, anger overcame him. Though he kept his promise, and did not again claim his title or his lands. He took shelter with the Aesidhe, and he served his new People in their plight to survive against those he had once known as kinsmen.

“But many who know him wonder. Does he only wait for a chance at vengeance? Does he still look for some moment and some way to strike back at his brother?”

“It is his name,” Adria whispered. “Watelomoksho.”

“Just as Shísha named him,” Tabashi smiled, just the smallest bit. “And then one day he followed the White Wolf into the borderlands, and found the answer to his prayers.”

“Revenge...” Adria whispered. I have helped him to this end? She swallowed, nodding, as realization arose and tears came to her eyes. “He has not protected me... I have protected him.”

The wheel of stars, Mateko... Wait for the crowing.

“I thought by leaving him tonight, I was defying him,” she said. “But in truth I am only...”

“There is only one ocean, Idonea. But there many, many rivers. And the ocean is changed by the greatest river, the smallest stream, and every single drop of rain,” Tabashi said. “Will you run with the young Aesidhe man you have come to love, and secure your future with his People, though it may yet endanger them further?”

Adria glanced behind.

Tabashi commanded her attention. “Or... will you return to Duke Preinon, in time for the battle, and risk yourself to balance the game that was set in motion the moment you followed his ghost... even the moment he became one?”

“Would I leave the People to save them?” she frowned, shaking her head. Her heart was racing, her head pounding.

“The river cannot be changed without a price,” he nodded, rising slowly to his feet. “Many lie dead, a boy burned, and an heir to Heiland scarred because I saw I had to harm the People for any hope of saving them.”

Adria touched the old wound on her chest reflexively. “A coin in both palms.”

“When we can afford it, yes,” He nodded. And he turned and moved away in a blur of speed, like the wheeling of stars, and with the calling of a crow, his final words lingered. “After all, I am only a merchant.”

Adria knew that Mateko could not understand what had happened, but instead of asking his questions, he only put his hand on her shoulder.

“Lilene...
are you well?
” he asked, and the simple concern in his voice took her breath away. She closed her eyes to still the pounding in her head a little, then took his hand as she rose and turned to him, resolved. Already, she was crying.

He looked from her face to where Tabashi had been, and then back, and started to speak, but she shook her head quickly.

“Please do not speak,
Mateko.
I would speak my turn.
”

He nodded, and calmed himself, and she took both his hands in hers. The crow called again.

Not much time…

“Zho chóko zazhuwe, Mateko… I love you,” she began, but her voice already betrayed another emotion. “
And I am certain that you love me. But... I cannot marry you. I have made a promise to return to my brother, to return to 
Windberth.
I do not know when it will happen, but... I have made an oath, and it must be kept. And I... I begin to see now that perhaps I have a responsibility to the people of my birth as I do the People I would choose. I cannot be divided, as they are, as we are. I must go and...
”

“What did
Watemezi
tell you?
” he asked, when her words failed. He was not angry, as she worried he might be. He was sad, but not angry.

She nodded. “
He told me what wounds my uncle has to heal, and I believe that they are also mine.
”

After a moment, Mateko nodded. “
I understand.
”

“I know that you do, Mateko,” she admitted. “
I have to go back. You understand better than I, better than
Watelomoksho.
A heart of fire… might burn the forest for the sake of one tree.
”

He swallowed, nodding again. “
You run with us, even as you run to him. You are a Healer as well as a Hunter. You follow the White Wolf,
Púksha,
and I believe in you.
”

She stepped forward, leaned in and embraced him, and placed a kiss upon his lips, lingering there for just a moment.

In another moment he was gone, having spared her the first turning away, and it was more forgiveness than she could have hoped for, to have wounded him with an arrow, instead of offering him the one he had once given her.

The enemy galley paced its rowers with a single large kettle drum, and as the beat grew steadily louder, the tension aboard The Echo rose to match. Captain Falburn turned his eyes astern more and more often, and finally shook his head, resigned, and called both Josson and Captain Wolt to the helm.

“They’re near a stone’s throw away. Nothing in the sea nor the wind apart from a bolt from the blue straight down their mast is going to save us from a fight.”

The two men before him nodded. Their faces, though resigned, seemed to welcome the message, and Adria could not blame them. 
The waiting is often worse than the happening.

Falburn continued, “Once they shoot, we’ll turn and sail into them. The quicker we close the distance, the fewer shots they get in. It’s a powerful weapon, but it’s slow to take its aim, and it’ll nae shoot too close to itself.”

“Aye,” Josson nodded. Nonetheless, Falburn went on, likely more for the benefit of Wolt.

“When we get in range of our bows, I’ll turn to give us all an even reach. If we scare ‘em enough with arrows, they may turn about.”

“And if not?” Wolt ventured.

Falburn shook his head. “We’ll need to pace our volleys between theirs... scare ‘em, but waste as few of our arrows as possible.”

Wolt nodded. “We’ll be firing into the sun.”

“Aye,” Falburn agreed. “But with the wind. Mine’re used to the sun... yours’ll have the shade of their helms. And maybe their shine’ll blind the pirates.”

He grinned, and Wolt nodded at the counsel as Chief Mate Josson returned to the forecastle and began to give orders in a slow and staggered shanty.

“We’re turning into them?” Hafgrim said, but only loud enough for those nearest him to hear. “If they turn, fine... but if not, how will we avoid that ram?”

“A gamble?” Adria shrugged. “I’m not sure he has a plan for that yet.”

“He’s hopeful it won’t be needed,” Elias said. “It’s reasonable. If she can’t cripple us, and if she loses enough rowers, she’ll be slow to ram and reluctant to try.”

Wolt turned about to survey his Knights’ readiness, then leaned out over the railing of the main deck. He cleared his throat and spoke aloud, so that all aboard could hear.

“Knights of Heiland,” he began. “Across the water men without faith and without honor seek to do us harm. I don’t need to tell you what is at stake. Every battle we wage, every mission we advance, is of equal weight in the eyes of the One.”

He nodded at a few of their faces, showing some real confidence, warranted or no.

“Today we serve our God, today we serve our Crown, and today we serve the sea. Today The Echo is our Matron, our Sister, and all aboard her are our brothers.”

The shanty had quieted as Josson took notice of the words. Adria smiled a little, and looked about to see that Hafgrim, Elias, and even Falburn were nodding.

Wolt has learned a bit on the voyage, as well…
she thought.
What to say… what
not
to say…

The Knight Captain continued, “Remember your training. Remember your oath. Stand fast against the stones and arrows of those who would see us drown. Draw and fire on my command. With our faith true and our arms strong we will not fall.”

Wolt paused, and then saluted. “Victory...”

As one, the Knights saluted, “Victory!”

Josson began the shanty again, and the captain called for adjustments to the sails. Falburn then motioned to Emoni with his free hand. “I won’t order ye to the hold, girl, but if ye’re keen to stay up here, best stand by me.”

Without comment or expression, she did as asked, but the captain’s shield boy had to motion for her to stand nearer.

“For the shield, Lady,” he smiled. “’Less your Sisters have taught ye to catch arrows.”

Emoni reacted neither with appreciation nor offense at the boy’s jest, merely nodding once and moving as indicated.

Were she not who she was, they would have sent her below regardless,
Adria thought.
What strange power the Sisterhood has, even among those who pay their religion only small respect. Or... is it this girl’s power, alone?