The Shaman's Curse (Dual Magics Book 1) (32 page)

“That is not Valson! That violates the Tenets by which we
live,” the Council leader said. “You cannot live here and repudiate the
Tenets.”

“Fine! I’ve never believed in your Tenets anyway! They’re
just a way to turn us all into peaceful little sheep! When our Powers should
make us gods!”

Both fathers ripped the amulets from their own necks and
stormed away. A small group consisting mostly of their immediate families
followed suit.

“I don’t want to be the cause of this,” Vatar said. “I
shouldn’t be the cause of a rift among your people.” Only those nearest to him
heard him above the noise.

Teran turned to look at him, head cocked slightly to one
side as if seeing him for the first time. “You’re not the cause. Remember the
Second Tenet: ‘Accept responsibility for your actions.’ You did. This rift is
caused by those who refuse to accept their responsibility. They are not Valson.
You are.”

Vatar’s eyebrows rose as he met Teran’s eyes. He’d never
have expected the other man—the man he knew was his rival for Thekila—to call
him that. That had to be high praise coming from Teran.

They followed the crowd that was now working its way out of
the Council Hall. The crowd dispersed, leaving the path back to the lake mostly
deserted. They were about halfway there when Wartan strode out into the street,
blocking their progress. Half a dozen of those who had supported him in the
Council meeting were behind him.

“The Council are weaklings. They can’t protect you, even if
they would.”

Vatar didn’t make any reply. He recognized the look in
Wartan’s eyes. It was exactly the way Maktaz had looked at him after Torkaz’s
death. There really wasn’t much he could say, now, that wouldn’t make things
worse. His blood chilled when he saw that Wartan was playing with a large rock,
tossing it up a few inches and catching it, as he spoke.

“Recognize this?” Wartan said. “Catch!”

The rock suddenly zoomed toward Vatar’s head. Vatar ducked,
but the rock stopped, inches from his face.

“Can’t catch? That’s too bad,” Wartan sneered.

The rock flew back to Wartan’s hand as if it had been on a
string. Wartan kept his eyes on Vatar. He started to send the rock hurtling
towards Vatar again. This time the rock stopped much sooner. From the look on
Wartan’s face, he wasn’t the one who’d stopped it.

“Stop this at once, Wartan!” Thekila said. “I won’t allow
it.”

“
You
won’t allow it? Let’s see how many you can catch,
then, little teacher,” Wartan answered. “You’ll be next after I deal with him.”

At a signal from Wartan, his followers also brought out
rocks and tossed them into the air threateningly. Vatar stepped in front of
Thekila, to shield her.

She tried to push him aside. “Vatar, I can’t control what I
can’t see.”

He put out an arm to hold her back. “You’re not going to get
hurt because of me.” He couldn’t let this go on. He wouldn’t be stoned like
that again. And he wouldn’t allow
anyone
to threaten Thekila. He didn’t
have the ability to catch those stones with his magic. But there was more than
one way to put an end to this. Before Wartan could react, Vatar strode forward,
crossing the distance between them. Without slowing, he pulled his arm back,
and punched Wartan hard. Vatar didn’t put everything into that blow, but he put
enough of his weight behind it to drop Wartan.

As Wartan crumpled to the ground, his nose bloodied, his
supporters dropped their rocks in shock.

“That won’t happen twice, Wartan. And no one threatens
Thekila while I’m around,” Vatar said as Wartan put a shaking hand up to the
blood on his face. “I could have broken your jaw, instead of your nose. Next
time, I won’t hold back.”

Vatar turned and walked back to stand between Wartan and
Thekila. Quetza stifled a smile. Teran and Terania appeared as shocked as
Wartan, but Teran waved them forward, out of range of Wartan and his gang.

Vatar looked over at Teran’s closed face. “I didn’t break
the Tenets, Teran. I didn’t use any Talent.”

“No, that’s true,” Teran said.

“I thought it was very effective,” Quetza said, suppressed
laughter bubbling through her words. She looked toward Thekila. “And
impressive.”

Vatar looked toward the mountains. Now that the Pass was
opening, he probably should start back. He didn’t have the excuse of snow in
the Pass anymore. Or even of waiting until his ankle and hand had healed
completely. Then again, he couldn’t leave the Forest until around midsummer,
anyway. It’d likely be easier to walk across the Forest then. He turned back
toward the Academy. At any rate, he
couldn’t
leave here until he’d
reached some understanding with Thekila. He’d have to come back for her. Live
here with her, if that’s what it took, but he couldn’t just leave without
knowing she’d be here, waiting for his return.

Now that his ankle wasn’t so stiff, Vatar asked to join
Quetza and Thekila on their walks through the forested inner slopes of the
mountains. It wasn’t the plains of home. Still, it was beautiful. Gentle slopes
and open woodland, not very different in some ways from the location of the
Lion Clan’s spring village, where his family would be about now.

Vatar was used to closely observing his environment. It was
a necessary skill on the plains, where lions or wolves might be hiding in the
tall grass or under the trees at a waterhole. With his sharp eyes, he spotted a
fox watching them pass and pointed it out to Thekila. “See it? Just there,
beside that rock.” He said, moving close to her to show her where to look.

“Oh! Yes, I see it now.”

He stayed next to her just a little longer than was
necessary. But she didn’t seem to object.

They were circling back toward the Academy later in the
afternoon when Vatar stopped and sat on a boulder, pulling off his right boot.
Thekila came back, looking for him.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “Is your ankle bothering you?”

“No, it’s not my ankle.” He smiled, glad that she was
concerned about him. “I just picked up a rock in my boot.” He turned his boot
upside down to demonstrate and a small pebble fell out.

Thekila grinned. “I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to re-injure
it.”

Vatar pulled his boot back on. “I’m fine. Almost completely
healed.”

As they walked alone down the trail to rejoin their party,
Vatar took her hand. She didn’t pull away until just before they caught up to
Quetza and the others. Then she gave his hand a little squeeze before
withdrawing her hand from his.

~

As spring waxed, Vatar knew he’d have to do something soon.
He couldn’t put off leaving much longer and he couldn’t leave until he’d told
Thekila how he felt. But . . . what if she didn’t feel the same?

He lay awake at night asking himself questions. Would
Thekila come back with him if he asked? Would she even consider it? Was it fair
to ask it of her? Perhaps not, remembering how out of place Avaza had felt in
Caere. Thekila would naturally want to stay with her brother and those she
considered her family. But he could come back here and bring Zavar and Savara
with him. His children would be safe here. He had to return home to complete
the Ordeal, but he could come back to her. He could do that, if she wanted him
to. Would she? And what would he do here? The Valson clearly didn’t need
someone to mind the herds. Did they need blade smiths? Finally, he could stand
it no longer. It was no good asking
himself
these questions. The only
one who could answer them was Thekila.

He waited to make sure that he walked back from the dining hall
with her alone. The setting was perfect. The fruit trees were covered with pink
and white blossoms against the backdrop of the still-snowy mountains. Vatar
turned aside on one of the less-used paths, drawing Thekila with him. He sat
down on a bench overlooking the Valley, his back turned to the lake. Thekila
sat down next to him.

Vatar took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of apple
blossoms. “Thekila, do you remember the first time I bespoke you?”

She smiled. “Yes. That was actually one of your longer . . .
conversations. At the time.”

“That was the night of my manhood test—my first manhood
test—when I was stranded alone on that islet. I told you about that.”

“I remember.”

Vatar chewed on his lower lip. “I think . . . I think that
in some way I’ve loved you—or, at least, wanted to love you—ever since that
night. I know I felt a connection to you. I think, when I found my way here,
that it was you I was coming to.” He turned to face her. “Thekila, I would stay
here with you forever, if I could. But I have to go back to complete my Ordeal
and clear my name. And for my children. But if . . . if there’s any chance that
. . . that you could feel the same way about me, I’d come back to be with you.”
He had never felt that so much depended on the answer to a single question. It
was hard to ask it, fearing to get the wrong answer.

“Vatar,” Thekila said, looking straight into his eyes. “I do
feel the same way. I hated it when we quarreled. I’ve been dreading the day you
have to leave.”

His heart beat faster. He hadn’t realized he had been
holding his breath until he let it out. He smiled at her and took her hand in
his. Then he shook his head. “I have no token to give you.”

That little crease appeared between her eyes again. “Token?”

“Among the Dardani, when a man wants to ask a woman to
become his mate, he offers her a token. If she accepts it, she accepts him. But
I have no token.”

“You undervalue yourself,” she said with a little smile.
“But, since we cannot follow the customs of your people, we will just have to
follow those of mine.”

He stroked the back of her hand. “What’s that?”

“Ask me.”

He drew another deep breath. “Thekila, will you be my life
mate?”

Thekila cocked her head to the side. “Not year mate?”

Vatar smiled. “No. Not you. I have loved you for more than
two winters already. Will you?”

“Yes. I will,” she answered, smiling back at him.

He breathed out again, grinning madly. He gathered her close
to him and kissed her. A long, slow kiss that left them both breathless. “I’ll
come back as soon as I can,” he said, without releasing her. “Before the Pass
closes again.”

Thekila shook her head. “No. I want to see your home and
meet your family. I’ll come with you.”

Vatar’s smile broadened further until it seemed his face
would crack open. “I’d like that very much.”

~

There was a long, expectant pause. Thekila could hear her
own heart beating faster than normal. Being held this close by Vatar was more
exciting than she’d expected. He was different than the fantasy she had
created, but he had driven the fantasy from her mind. She didn’t want to let
him go out of her life again.

Vatar swallowed hard. “If we were home among the Dardani,
I’d start building a hut for us to live in. When the hut was complete, we’d . .
. be together. What do we do now, by your customs?”

Thekila’s smile turned mischievous. She’d made her choice.
She had fallen in love with him and she didn’t see the point of prolonging the
courtship. His passion was contagious. She wasn’t used to feeling like this but
she didn’t want it to stop.

“It’s not so different. Except that you don’t need to build
a hut. Now, we go somewhere more private.” She took his hand and pulled him to
his feet to follow her.

~

When she pulled her shift off, Vatar was struck by how small
Thekila really was. She was tiny compared to Avaza. He was suddenly frightened
that he would hurt her. She put her hand up to lightly caress the lines of his
tattoo.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the Healer first took your
tunic off,” she confessed, smiling mischievously up at him.

He loved that smile. It made his heart race. He pulled out
the combs that held her long, red hair up, gathering the bright curls in his
hands as they fell.

Despite his mounting desire, Vatar forced himself to be
extraordinarily slow and gentle with her, conscious of the difference in size
between them. She looked into his eyes and joined their minds. Then he knew he
wasn’t hurting her at all.

~

Vatar woke first to a moment of disorientation. Then he
smiled. By reflex, his arm tightened around Thekila, pulling her closer to him.
He lay still, afraid to move further for fear of waking her. He wanted to make
this moment last a little longer. No. Forever.

Vatar didn’t dare believe it. But the proof was lying beside
him. She loved him, too. She had said she would be his life mate and come back
with him. And she was so much more than he had thought possible. How could
anyone think that any magic that made that level of joining possible was evil?
He knew he was the luckiest man in the world. And he didn’t intend to do
anything to jeopardize that.

~

Vatar smiled as he walked back from class toward his little
house. With luck, Thekila would already be there and then . . .

He stopped when he saw Teran, blocking his way. Nothing
could ever be simple, could it? He squared his shoulders and stepped forward.
He nodded to acknowledge the other man. “Teran.”

“I know that Thekila has chosen you,” Teran said.

“Yes,” Vatar answered simply, uncertain where this was
leading.

Teran shook his head as if he’d deny it. “I’ve loved her
since she was fifteen years old. But she’s always seen me as her older brother,
no matter how I tried to make her see me in another way. So now, that’s what
I’ll be. If you hurt her. . .”

Vatar raised his hands, palm up. “Teran, I would never
willingly hurt her. I’d die first.”

Teran’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe. That’s easy to say now, in
the first flush of . . . But if you do not die before, you will die after,
though I shatter the Tenets.”

Vatar looked back at Teran for a long moment. “We understand
one another,” he said at last. “But I meant what I said. I’ve loved her without
knowing it for about as long—since I first bespoke her by accident. You can
keep your conscience clear, Teran. If I ever hurt her, nothing you can do to me
will be as bad as I deserve.”

~

It was impossible to deny that summer had arrived. The snow
had melted on all but the highest peaks. Fruit was ripening on the trees. Vatar
couldn’t put off leaving for much longer.

Vatar thought about that as he walked back home—to his
temporary home. Soon he’d be able to hold his children again. A grin split his
face and his heart drummed in his chest at the thought. But, there was another
side to that, too. His confrontation with Teran had forced him to face up to
the possible danger to Thekila. Not among the Dardani—although he would have to
warn her not to
move
things around where anyone could see. No, they’d be
safe once they reached the Dardani. It was getting there. Vatar hadn’t
forgotten Wartan’s threat. The problem with exile as a punishment was that it
left your enemy with nothing to lose and potentially somewhere out there, lying
in wait. Maktaz proved that and he hadn’t even been permanently exiled.

From the Council meeting, Wartan had to know where Vatar had
come from—and where he’d be going back to. And Wartan had allies. Vatar would
be a fool to ignore the possible danger. He could face it. He didn’t really
have a choice. But he didn’t have a right to put Thekila in danger on his
behalf.

Thekila greeted him with a kiss and a hug. Vatar sat heavily
on the bench and bent to pull off his boots.

Thekila started brushing out her long hair. “You’re quiet
tonight. What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking that it’s about time I started back across
the Forest.”

She flashed him one of her mischievous smiles. “Funny. I was
thinking the same thing. We can camp along the way, just the two of us. And if
we leave soon, we won’t have to hurry.”

Vatar dropped his boot and looked up. “Are you sure you
still want to come with me?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Vatar pulled off his tunic. “Keran’s father may come hunting
me. I’ve seen that kind of need for revenge before. It’s what drove me to the
Ordeal in the first place. I don’t want you to have to endure what I did.”

Thekila turned to him and smiled. “That sort of thing won’t
happen again, Vatar. They’ve been exiled.” She lightly traced his tattoo with
her finger.

He caught her hand and held it gently in his own. “Not now.
I want to talk about this.”

She stepped back to look at his face. “Vatar, they’re
Valson!”

Vatar shook his head. “Not any more they’re not. If they
ever were. Didn’t sound like they cared much about the Tenets before they were
exiled. Now, they’re no more Valson than Loran and his friends were.”

Thekila chewed her lip. “They were exiled to the south, not
the west.”

Vatar drew in a breath. “And yet they may find a way
through, around, or over the mountains if they are determined enough.”

Thekila nodded. “They may. But not soon. The Kragehul
Mountains are at their widest and most rugged to the south. There are no passes
in that part of the range.” She looked up at him. “Or don’t you want me to come
with you?”

Vatar rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “You know I do.
I can barely stand to have you out of my sight. I can’t imagine leaving you for
several months, but—”

“Very well. That’s settled, then,” she said with finality
and reached for his tattoo again.