The Forgotten Stone, page 13
“A stone, and not a stone!” Ruakh chuckled. “Its power is not one-dimensional, and if we allow its desires to shape our own, that power is allocated to us.”
Gabor arched an eyebrow. “An object is an object, nothing more. I look at this knife,” he said, drawing his out, “and see only steel. The power and skill come from my mind and muscle memory, not the knife itself.”
“At the same time, I suppose Pakel’s karambit carries additional weight now,” Enouim said. “Because of what it means to us. Not all power is visible.”
“So this lifestyle,” Vadik broke in, “the Ecyah Stone somehow shapes all the rules you have? What is it like for you traveling with us brutes?”
Ruakh smiled. “You have a code of conduct, and I respect that. Gorgenbrild thrives from a sense of honor. We are different, and we are similar.”
“And Kalka’an?” Gabor pressed dryly.
“What do you think of Kalka’an?” Ruakh asked him, returning the question.
Gabor grunted. “Personal experience so far has not been favorable. A society built on lies cannot rely on each other like comrades in arms must. And a company made up of a rat or two will be eaten alive from the inside.”
“Strong words, Gabor!” Vadik spoke up, defending his friend.
“Where has our trust gotten us so far, Vadik? Silas stole the bracelet thing Canukke wears, only to give it back. And for what? To make a point? And then we go into Levav, and oh, the scouts that learned where everything is failed to mention a secret vault they knew all about, planning to sneak off to do their own thing. Silas is gone because Levav saw how treacherous he was. He betrayed us. I say good riddance, and we are fifty percent closer to being a trustworthy company once more! Baird and Silas got Pakel killed, and it is because of them that we are behind schedule.”
“Your people murder each other over a squabble!” Baird’s eyes flashed with indignation. “We value strategy and wit. We settle our disagreements peacefully, and Kalka’an flourishes without maiming or slaughtering those who slight us. And we are not to be trusted! Look in the mirror, friend. You will not like what you see.”
“I am no friend of yours,” Gabor spat. “I am here to protect my people from oppression and extinction. I am here to fight beside my countrymen, put myself in harm’s way, lay myself down for the sake of the mission. And you! What are you here for? A fun story to tell your friends? A spy?”
“Spy! Silas taking the bracelet was a skill demonstration that our own would have respected! Canukke threatened us with physical harm over the worthless thing. I am here as a representative of my people. Kalka’an and Gorgenbrild are allies. Who says you’re right? What is your problem?”
Enouim sighed. Less than a day out from Levav, and already the friction had escalated. What was next? Listening to Baird, Enouim wondered why he’d lied about the vault. She wondered why he perpetuated the lie that Silas took the bracelet, and not himself, even now. She wondered a lot of things.
“It was such a useless, stupid lie!” Gabor continued. “Zegrath’s teeth, it wasn’t a show of intelligence, but a reckless display of selfishness and pride at our expense.”
Enouim rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Hold on, stop. Gorgenbrilders don’t even follow our own rules all the time. Canukke lied to me and to you about my part in the quest back in Kalka’an! That doesn’t make what you did okay,” she said to Baird. “It made me angry. You know it did. But I also know you care about the mission. You want us to succeed, but you and Silas disagreed with Canukke on how to go about it. So I tried to trust you again. And now you’re lying again, about small things, things that don’t even matter anymore. Why? And why don’t we Gorgenbrilders even meet our own standards?”
“I did it for the mission!” Canukke and Baird said together. Both looked equally upset to have shared the same wavelength.
“No one would believe me if I explained,” Baird added.
Enouim threw her hands up. “Why can’t everyone just tell the truth? How hard would that be? If your intentions were good, share them; if your intentions were bad, own them. It is not your job to determine everyone else’s response to you. It’s your job to do the right thing on your end. And I know what you’re going to say. What if they won’t understand? What if they overreact? What if they don’t believe me? What if this? What if that? No! If you don’t want to tell someone something, don’t tell them! Tell them they make you feel unsafe; tell them it’s none of their business, or tell them nothing at all, but don’t lie. Oh, but they prefer the lie. Maybe they do, but they would only prefer it if it were true. If everyone really preferred to be lied to, they would never be upset when the lie was found out. And yet here we are. Lying is lazy. Lying is cowardly. And I know it’s what you’re used to. I know there’s a reason why you do it and that the reason seems good to you. But that’s not good enough.” Enouim broke off, breathing heavily.
Silence. Baird shifted his weight. Canukke curled his lip in a soundless snarl. Vadik grimaced.
“Break time is over,” Kilith declared after a moment. “We had better get moving.”
They rode on, each man immersed in his own bitter thoughts. The fresh start of the morning had soured, and as the light faded, so did optimism. The sunset was surprisingly lackluster, but it seemed to match their outlooks on the evening. A light wind ruffled Enouim’s hair, the soft sound tempering the incessant cricket calls in the night. At last Mereámé and Ruakh directed them to the best place to cross the river. Enouim’s heart beat loudly as she listened to the ripple of the water passing them by. She thumbed the scar on her collarbone and swallowed.
Canukke entered the river first, testing the water and urging his horse forward. Gabor followed close behind him, rather pointedly placing distance between himself and Baird. Oloren was next, with Mereámé and Enouim on the bank behind. Enouim stared at the moving water … dark, mysterious, and unpredictable.
“Hey … Enouim? Are you okay?” Mereámé’s soft voice and concerned expression brought Enouim back to the task at hand.
“What? Um … yes, I’m fine.” She took a deep breath. Canukke, Gabor, and Oloren were all in the river. They were fine. She was fine. They were all going to be fine. Another deep breath.
“Psst … come on, En,” Oloren whispered, turning in her saddle. “What’s wrong?”
Enouim steeled herself and stepped Inferno’s front hooves into the water. No hidden monsters of death came lunging at her from beneath its surface. She continued into the river, and they began to wade across. The bottom of the river dropped away and the horses were forced to swim. Enouim heard Vadik lean toward Baird behind her and ask him, “Hey, do you see anything dark in the water?”
“Just water,” Baird returned. “It’s night out; everything is dark.”
Enouim searched her surroundings, but all she saw was black water moving past them. Vadik remained intent on the water. Canukke was wary but confident. Enouim caught Kilith’s eye as she swept her gaze from side to side. He seemed focused on her, examining her. Self-conscious and wondering how paranoid she looked, Enouim straightened in the saddle and tried to turn her attention to her breathing as Inferno waded into the inky depths and began to swim.
A distinctive wave rolled past Ruakh, and the members near enough to hear it twisted back to look. “What was that?” Kilith asked.
Ruakh grasped his staff and stared into the blackness beside him, putting a finger to his lips for silence. Enouim strained her ears, but only heard the low ripple of the water and the horses’ breathing as they swam. Her heart beat ominously like the pounding of a great drum. She imagined that the blackness of the water held unfathomable evil, and her breathing quickened. Looking about her, she saw the whites of her companions’ eyes, their dim outlines, and little else. Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud.
A subtle splashing sound led to chaos as a dark snake-like creature, two feet in diameter, broke the surface of the water, knocking Vadik off his horse and down into the depths. The horses uttered horrified cries and struck out for the shore in a panic. Kilith stayed his horse and plunged his arm into the murkiness. Gabor grabbed onto him from the other side to keep him in his seat, and it seemed Kilith grasped hold of something, but then lost it. With a grunt, Kilith dove into the water after Vadik.
“Kilith!” Oloren yelled, pulling out her short swords.
Slippery scales lashed out from the water again, and Oloren slashed at the beast with both arms while her horse carried its unwilling rider out of range. An arrow from Gabor hit the serpent a moment after Oloren made contact, and a throaty growl rumbled from what was unmistakably an enormous snake head emerging from the darkness, looming over them all. Large yellow eyes gleamed at them, slits for pupils piercing them like steel daggers. The mouth opened, and a forked tongue slithered out to taste the air. The snake’s body coiled against itself, its scales producing an unearthly high pitched, hollow sound. Vadik and Kilith surfaced, kicking and sputtering. The beast seemed enraged to see them at the surface. It reached a short arm out of the water and plucked Enouim off her horse.
Enouim let out a scream that started in shock, then turned into rage. One arm free, she drew her knife and stabbed and sawed at the foot holding her fast. Oloren, seeing her predicament, leaped to her feet on her horse’s back and thrust her short swords into the serpent. It took her several attempts, as the scales overlapped closely, and she finally shoved her swords up and into the softer underbelly. But the scales closed over the blades and held her to the animal. The great snake’s head rose high over Oloren and thrashed Enouim about as it reacted. Using her daggers as handholds, Oloren climbed up the beast with her legs dangling in the air. Canukke called to Gabor to get Ruakh and Mereámé to the shore. Baird slung his broadsword and the beast dove back into the water, Enouim still in its clutches.
Her vision turned to blackness, and her world turned cold. The clammy grip of the snake was strong, and Enouim grew weary of her knife work. A sharp sting hit the back of her neck, and she cried out from under the water. The muffled sound gave her companions an idea of where she was, and Baird launched himself off his mount after her. Oloren had ridden the beast down into the water but the impact shook her off. Kilith got Vadik safely to the bank, but Vadik didn’t allow himself to rest before pulling a spear off his horse and planting himself at the edge of the water, waiting for a clear shot. Enouim felt a lurch, and the vise around her loosened. A moment was all she needed to wriggle free.
Enouim’s lungs burned as she reached the surface and felt strong arms take hold of her and drag her through the water. Vadik let his spear fly a moment later, but it glanced off. Canukke caught it in one swift motion as it fell, and tried again at close range. The snake’s body rolled beneath his horse and it was briefly lifted out of the water by its force, whinnying in terror.
Kilith set Enouim down on the bank and returned for Canukke and Baird, just as Oloren made it to land. The beast rose up, towering over them, and they saw that it was indeed a snake of sorts, but had two short legs perhaps six feet down its body. The creature hissed at them and swayed for a moment, the end of its tail slapping the top of the water.
In a final dash, it rushed the company on the bank. Canukke had his sword at the ready, but Ruakh responded fastest and thrust his staff into the serpent’s mouth. It writhed backward, gagging and hissing. Canukke struck its great neck with a deep blow, and, bleeding badly now, the beast melted back into the water. The travelers were left soaking wet and heaving on the shore next to a river that bubbled quietly as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place.
15
The river flowed by them, unhurried. Even the crickets, disturbed from their nightly song, resumed after a few minutes. A breeze tousled her wet hair, and Enouim realized how cold she was. It felt good on her neck, which still stung a little, but she hated being cold and would’ve rather taken the pain. Soaked to the bone, they remained scattered on the side of the river trying to absorb what had just happened.
“Away from the bank, quickly,” Canukke commanded.
Kilith and Baird both appeared at Enouim’s side to check on her and help her up, but Kilith sent Baird to help Vadik round up the horses. “You were under there a while. Feeling okay?”
“Yeah … yes, I’m fine, just a little shaken up.” Her heart ignored her mind’s repeated directives to slow itself.
Kilith looked her up and down. “Nothing else?”
“No …” She slowly moved her fingers to the back of her neck, but Kilith caught her hand and moved it away. He turned her so the moonlight shone on the back of her neck. “What? What is it?”
“Hmm.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“I’m going to put a poultice on this. Don’t touch it.”
Enouim turned to look at him, bewildered. “Why?” She reached her hand up again, and Kilith swatted in away.
“Don’t touch it.”
“Fine.”
Kilith gave her the look a parent gives a troublesome child, then walked away. Baird and Vadik caught the last of the horses, and the company headed toward a grove of trees a little way off. Canukke walked back to the bank and scanned it for some time before returning to the group. After a debate over the danger of lighting a fire, they agreed that drying off and staying warm was worth the risk. Gabor took charge of this, and Mereámé volunteered to assist. When Kilith wasn’t looking, Enouim snaked her hand up to the edges of the scars on her neck. The edges were raised. Alarmed, she dropped her hand.
Canukke returned, looking troubled and feeling his wrist. The all-important leather wristband was gone. Enouim started toward him but paused as Ruakh headed toward Canukke ahead of her. She kept her ear in their direction, pretending to look for kindling instead.
“Pardon me, but I couldn’t help but notice you seem to be missing something. And I found something floating in the water just starting to sink when we got to the bank. I fished it out. Is this yours?” Ruakh held out a wet leather band to Canukke.
Canukke’s eyes widened, and he took it. “Thank you,” he said in surprise. “Yes, I was looking for it. Must have come off in the struggle … I searched the riverbank but thought it was lost.”
Ruakh sat next to Canukke and they shared time in silence, watching Gabor and Oloren start the fire. The two quietly squabbled about the best technique, until Oloren finally gave up and let Gabor do it his way. Canukke looked down at the leather band and ran his fingers over it. “It was my father’s.”
“Were you close?”
“Yes … and no. He was a harsh man, my father, but the only one I got. Loved mead, like most in our country, but it made him violent. He wasn’t always harsh though. My father taught me to hunt, to fight, to live, and ultimately to die. He wore this every day of my childhood.”
“It’s important to you to carry on his legacy,” Ruakh observed.
“It is.”
“If you don’t mind my asking … how did your father pass away?”
Silence engulfed them. Canukke stared into the fire from where he and Ruakh sat, removed from the others. Enouim remained still, paralyzed now as she’d been too long in this position to possibly still be gathering wood for the fire. To move now would bring attention to her placement and ruin this improbable vulnerability. Canukke could have bored a hole with his eyes into the logs of the fire, so focused was he on them. Ruakh remained silent, allowing the man beside him all the time he needed.
Finally, Canukke spoke. “Before Khoron-khelek formed the Sumus, his father had brought together another band of tribesmen called the Iyangas. My father went as part of a negotiation party to move them away from our borders. All but two of the seven-person party were murdered and brutally disfigured. The tribesmen killed him in cold blood in response to a peaceful entreaty. Savages!”
Canukke’s eyes remained fixed on the fire, and Enouim could see the blaze reflected in his eyes. His face twisted into a grimace of pain and hatred. “They know no mercy, and shall receive no mercy! The only language they know is in trails of blood, and I learned to speak their language that night. The two survivors returned in a panic, narrowly escaping. So I handled my anger the way my father always had. I drank. I drank to stop feeling, and when I could still feel, I drank some more. The more I consumed, the more my fury grew. In a rage I set out after my father’s killers while they slept. I saw my father’s mutilated body and could not contain the hatred that swept through me that night. My father and his companions were brutalized beyond recognition except for this.” Canukke tapped the leather band on his wrist.
He continued. “I slaughtered seven of them before they even woke. I fought and killed five more and escaped on my horse, dragging the screaming body of one of them behind me. I cut out his entrails and disemboweled him. The next day I used a slingshot to send pieces of the tribesman into their camp … intestine tied to a rock, an eyeball, one piece at a time, like the pieces of me they ripped apart when they killed my father and my people. I dumped the remains nearby for them to find. I learned that day that violence is the only thing they understand. They deserve it, because they destroy first. Like force and equal hatred are our only option. These wretches have nothing to lose, no shame, no honor. It is not by talk that we will defeat them, but by blood. Blood for blood, life for life, and hatred for hatred; yet my blood runs thicker in my veins, my life will be stronger than theirs, and my hatred greater than theirs. It makes me strong. They will see my face and quake with fear before the end.”
A chill ran up Enouim’s spine. Despite the graphic details, Ruakh’s face remained serene. “You wanted them to feel the way they made you feel.”
Canukke nodded.
“It seems to me,” Ruakh said, “that you are part of a never-ending cycle of violence. Your path is lined with sorrow. What is it like for you to carry the responsibility for so many lives?”
Canukke shrugged. “I do not feel it. I feel nothing at all. They are evil itself.”
