The Forgotten Stone, page 33
Serete absorbed the information solemnly. “Oh,” he said at last. “I see. Few come to Rehim from that direction. You must be here with Kilith Urul then.”
Enouim looked up at him in surprise. “You know him?”
Serete nodded. “Our paths have crossed several times. We share some common interests. I’ve heard news abroad of Gorgenbrild’s … situation. It must be hard for you, being here.”
“It has been.” Enouim was struck by how easily her thoughts came to her as she spoke to this man. “I miss home, and I wonder what’s happening there. I don’t envy their position, but I wouldn’t have chosen mine either. I guess it’s just as well that I didn’t get to choose.”
“You were made to come?”
“Well, not precisely. I mean, it was sort of an accident, but I’m here now, and now I think it was on purpose.” Enouim scratched her head.
“Sounds like a story worth hearing. I hope you don’t feel like I’m trying to pry. I just would have noticed had you been here before. And I’ve learned to pick out the newcomers.”
“The wide-eyed confusion give me away?” Enouim laughed. “No, it’s okay. I’m not sure it would feel right to talk about something trite, or the weather, in a place like this. Anyway, small talk is a necessary evil to survive pleasantries with people you’re afraid won’t like you.”
It was Serete’s turn to laugh. “That’s true. Why do people do that?”
“So what about you? What brings you here?”
“Well, I suppose that’s a long story too. The short version is that I just came from upriver seeking to rectify a problem with the water that the Madzi have not been able to correct. I saw some strange tracks and followed those as well, but lost them some ways northwest of here. My search was cut short by an encounter with Morthed scouts and news of Khoron-khelek in Gorgenbrild. I wish I had pleasant news to share.”
Briefly Enouim wondered what kind of problem there could be with the water, but it left her mind when she heard him say there was news of home. Hearing Serete had news, most of the room crowded around him, effectively ending any private discussion.
“What news?” asked Gabor, edging in.
“Has Gorgenbrild been breached?” another voice wondered. One of the Rehi.
“Are they holding?”
“What are their chances?”
“Is this Khoron-khelek really worth the worry? I heard he was nothing but a vengeful boy, with delusions of grandeur too big for his shoes.”
This last comment caught attention, and the cluster of people around Serete and Enouim fell silent. The speaker was a well-muscled fellow, absentmindedly twirling a knife in one hand, and wearing a dismissive expression.
“Boy?” Canukke shoved off the wall where he’d been quietly observing and stewing until now. “Boys grow up to be men. A thirst for blood is only assuaged when the last drop is drained. And delusions? Delusions are only delusions to people with stunted imaginations. To those that dream, far-fetched desires and ideas are possibilities fueled by fire. Malum Khoron-khelek has been dreaming a long time. That is why we are here.”
“I feel sorry for him,” said one woman. “Anyone who does horrible things didn’t get to that place overnight. He must be hurting.”
“Hurting!” Canukke scoffed. “He certainly is. Hurting everyone I care about, as far as I know. And that is precisely what he has to look forward to when I get my hands on him—hurting.”
“So … that brings us back to my news, I should think,” Serete said, gathering back the room’s attention. “Malum Khoron-khelek has taken Gorgenbrild. They are overrun. His Sumus sent several captured Gorgenbrilder scouts back to the people in pieces, catapulting heads and hands in. Khoron-khelek sent a negotiation party into Gorgenbrild, whom Gorgenbrilders killed and sent back in like fashion. Khoron-khelek continued to press in, binding them to their own cliff until none could pass in or out. He waited like this for months, killing and eating from the bountiful prey in the mountains and sending the scraps to be picked off the bones from Gorgenbrilders as a power play. Any caught slipping past Sumu sentries to hunt were killed, and any Sumu allowing them to pass was also killed.
“Gorgenbrild was forced to begin killing livestock, and as supplies ran thin and psychological warfare ran high, he made his move. Not a month ago Khoron-khelek swept in. He sent another negotiation party, stating that any who surrendered would be assimilated into the Sumu empire and welcomed with joy, but any who withstood would be destroyed. The people of Gorgenbrild met the threat of violence with violence, and I’m afraid the reports are not good. Many were lost.”
Enouim’s heart dropped, and her eyes pricked with tears. Her mother and brother … were they dead? What of friends like Balat and Edone?
Oloren shook her head. “We are too late.”
“Many were lost, but there are survivors. Gorgenbrild put up an admirable fight, but the Sumus under Khoron-khelek are well trained and far better acquainted with Gorgenbrilder fighting style than the Iyangas were under his father Urgil those thirty years ago. Gorgenbrild was simply no match for their numbers when resources were so low. Survivors now live under the thumb of Khoron-khelek, and as I heard it, dissension is publicly … annihilated.”
“We are doomed,” Gabor said glumly.
“There is more yet to be done!” Kilith said. “Tell us, how many?”
Serete took in a deep breath and sighed. “I didn’t hear specifics. Five to one? Ten to one? It’s not good. For every sentry standing in the open and roaming the streets, there are twenty more in the surrounding mountains.”
“How can we get in?” Vadik asked.
“Get in?” said the dismissive man with the knife. “Be grateful you got out!” He flipped it into the table to stab a bread roll, then plucked it out of the table, and took a bite off the roll.
Koko tapped the man’s shoulder, and he took a step back. “Perhaps there is yet a way. You were sent by Eh’yeh, after all.”
“A month ago, you say? Why, we were with Eh’yeh when it happened!” Baird said.
“And what good did it do us? What good did it do home?” Canukke demanded. “For all his talk … nothing!”
“How much time did you spend with him?” Ruakh asked, gently but firmly.
“Enough to know a fake when I see one!” Canukke shot back. “Oh, so high and mighty he is, with his golden better-than-everyone standard and his pretentious guards. How powerful he is—so much so that he hides in stunning emerald glades far away from a view of suffering. But he cares, oh how he cares!” His voice bled sarcasm.
Gasps filled the room, and all eyes bored into Canukke, ranging from shock to anger to pity.
“Suffering!” The voice—deep, strong, and lined with the danger of a thousand zegraths’ hackles—belonged to Kilith. “One who has embodied suffering itself need not be taught its meaning. One who defined the epitome of deplorable experience, the zenith of human pain, and chose to endure it rather than allow you to fall prey to yourself—insult him again, and it will be the last words you utter. The maker allows his hunger for justice be put on hold for your sake, that you might retain breath enough in your lungs to mock him. Be silent!”
None dared speak.
Canukke looked as though he’d been slapped. He opened his mouth, then shut it. Turning, he wheeled round and stormed out through an open doorway to a ledge outside.
Enouim choked on tears, struggling to regulate her emotions in the crowd. Her home was ruled by a tyrant, the people she loved might be dead, and they had been sent on a failed mission. And if Chayan hadn’t tried to kill her, Enouim might very well be dead too. Enouim wondered if Chayan was alive. Surely that much fury could not be easily snuffed out. But then, neither could the collective fire of Gorgenbrild’s most brutal warriors, and yet they were defeated. How gruesome the fields must have been, strewn with the spent passions of her people. Enouim shuddered.
If Eh’yeh knew, why didn’t he do anything? Why hadn’t he told them when he saw them? Why hadn’t he prepared them for this, and told them a plan of action? Was it folly to return to Gorgenbrild? Somehow, doing anything else seemed wrong. How could they desert the last of their people? How could they go knowing they would die, or be enslaved themselves? Why wasn’t there a plan?
Ruakh’s words came back to her then. Who says he hasn’t made one? Enouim thought of this for a moment. Sumus outnumbered Gorgenbrilders ten to one. There were only nine left in the company, and of those only seven were experienced warriors. What could they do against such an adversary?
Another wave of emotion threatened to take her down, and Enouim wordlessly got up and made for the exit, glaring at nothing and everything, so focused was she on getting out of that room. She needed some air. Enouim walked as though in a dream, her feet and legs carrying her up the stairs in the middle of the room. She didn’t want to be around anyone and was relieved to see the stairs open onto the roof, which was open to the world, lit by several torches, and empty.
Grief hit her like a sledgehammer crashing through a barrier. Enouim fell to her knees, buried her face in her arms and wept. She wept for her mother and brother, who were either dead or wishing they were. She wept for Pakel, whose life was lost on a mission destined to fail. She wept for every moment laughing on the road when she should have been torn to shreds. Enouim gripped her knees tight and rolled to her side, curled in a ball, ribs aching and throat tight from sorrow. Tears rolled down her face, rivers of confusion and bereavement and pain.
As the last of her energy sapped from her body, Enouim opened her eyes and looked to a landing across the way, over an expanse of dark forest. Canukke stood there, silhouette outlined in the dim light of the flickering torches, shaking and clutching something to his chest. She squinted to see that he held little Urou, the child who had given him the leaf. All the strength of his pretenses were shattered, and his body sagged. As exhaustion took her, the last sight she remembered was Canukke, weeping bitterly in the embrace of a child.
37
“Up here, I got her!” called a voice. “Shh, she’s asleep.”
“Good, I’m glad she’s okay.”
“How long has she been up there?”
“Don’t wake her, just bring her down so she doesn’t freeze. We’ll set up here for the night.”
Voices drifted lightly through the edges of her consciousness, and distantly she felt herself lifted from the ground. Strong arms cradled her close to a warm body, and she swayed gently with his footsteps. Serete’s soothing voice was close to her ear, and Kilith spoke to him in hushed tones. As she was set down softly, Enouim’s body melted into a pile of blankets ready and willing to receive her, her weary mind taking refuge in sleep once again.
Enouim woke slowly to a room full of light. Oloren sat next to her, laughing with Baird. Mereámé spoke to Ruakh, and Gabor arranged plates on the table. Enouim sat up, wiping her eyes.
Wzzzzzzzz. The sound of the zip line announced someone’s arrival through the open window. Vadik swung into the room, clipped onto the rope with a bag of food in each hand. Thud. He landed with a smile. “Good morning sunshine!” he said to Enouim. “I certainly expect you to be full of energy today after the sleep you’ve had.”
Oloren turned to her.“En, you’re awake! Hi.”
Enouim drew her brows together, trying to remember when she had fallen asleep.
Wzzzzzzzzzz, thud. Serete bounced in on the balls of his feet, laughing, with a large pack on his back and two more bags in his hands. Enouim’s heart quickened, but she squashed the feeling as well as she might. What was her problem? She averted her gaze and caught Gabor’s eye instead. He winked at her. Oh no.
Serete set the bags down, unclipped himself from the line, and greeted the room with a hearty good morning just as Canukke and Kilith walked down from the stairs in the center of the room.
“You set a nice table, Gabor,” Kilith said.
“Exquisite artisanship. I’ve never seen anyone so precise in all my life,” Baird teased. “I think he must have spent an hour doing nothing but setting out knives and forks.”
“Might as well enjoy it—who knows how long it will be before we can sit at a proper table again,” Kilith said. “We’ll eat comfortably while we may.”
Serete appeared at Enouim’s side as she untangled herself from blankets. He held out a hand. “Good morning. Let me help you up.”
Suddenly feeling incredibly awkward, Enouim took his hand hesitantly. The group was staring. She just knew it. Enouim turned her eyes to Serete’s deep blue ones. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
“How did you sleep?” he asked as he walked her to the table.
“Well, I think,” she replied, running a hand over her face. “I’m not entirely sure I’m awake yet.”
“It’s a beautiful morning,” Vadik said. “That’ll wake you right up. And the horses are ready for us on the forest floor.”
Enouim perked up. “Fern is here?”
“In all his spunky glory,” Vadik answered.
“Which one is Fern?” Serete asked.
“Oh, he’s gorgeous.” Enouim turned to him with excitement but felt her face turn red and looked back at the table. “His name is Inferno, I just call him Fern for short. Big black blanket appaloosa. Can’t miss him.”
“I believe I saw him on my way in last evening. He looked to be quite a horse.”
“We don’t cut corners when it comes to horses,” Baird commented. “Kalka’an horses are the best of the best, and Inferno is top notch even for us. We outdid ourselves.”
Enouim grinned at him and looked back to Serete. She sighed contentedly, grateful to have the heaviness in the air lifted from last night. He smiled back at her. How was he so comfortable everywhere he went? He seemed to be a part of the group somehow, though he had only just met them. Speaking of that, Enouim paused to wonder why he was there with them.
“So did you get kicked out of breakfast elsewhere and got stuck with us?” she asked.
“He’s coming with us, didn’t you hear?” Oloren said.
“He … what?” Enouim looked at Serete in surprise.
He nodded. “I spoke with Kilith, and he agreed you could use an extra set of hands.”
Gabor raised a glass. “The more the merrier. Die with us, my friend!”
Enouim felt both excited and troubled. The two emotions battled as Mereámé spoke up.
“Speaking of … I have some hard news to share,” she said, swallowing. All eyes turned to her. “I was just talking with Ruakh. I have been wondering where my place is in all of this, now that found Eh’yeh. My father will be anxious to hear of Eh’yeh and all that we learned. Still, it’s hard to leave you. I have only known you for a couple months, but already you have become like family.” Enouim saw her face fill with emotion, her voice as soft and genuine as ever. “I’m sure you will all miss my physical prowess back in Gorgenbrild, so I’m glad you will be adding another to your number.” She smiled. “All jokes aside, I didn’t know when to turn back and had thought I would travel with you at least a bit further. But last night I had a dream, and Eh’yeh spoke to me and told me to return to Levav today. One of the Rehi has agreed to escort me through the forest to the plains, where Eh’yeh told me I would find Mayimesh and the rest of the Pyren on their way to Levav.”
“Today?” Gabor repeated, processing the information.
Enouim wasn’t sure what to say. “We will miss you. I’ll miss you,” she said. This journey had far too many goodbyes. She wondered how many more she would have to endure before the end. At the same time, Mereámé returning to Levav would keep her safe. Perhaps Mereámé would be the sole survivor of their venture.
“It was inevitable that you would need to return, I suppose,” Baird said. “We have enjoyed your company and kindness. Your people will surely be happy to hear from you again, and have their historian write her own piece of history to fill in the blanks there.”
Mereámé’s face brightened in knowing Baird had understood her.
“We will miss you both very much,” Oloren said. “And we wish you the safest of travels.”
“Both? No, it’s just me.”
Canukke turned to Ruakh. “You are not returning home?”
“No, you are stuck with me a bit longer. It appears Eh’yeh calls our dear friend Mereámé home to Levav, and with her the legacy of the Way is safe and the appropriate corrections can be made. I myself feel a pull toward Gorgenbrild, and for better or for worse, I do not believe our paths are yet meant to be diverted.”
The rest of the meal was bittersweet, and though they could not linger, they did not hurry either. Enouim wondered at why Mereámé was given a dream with specific instructions when Enouim herself felt like she was running blind. She tried to remind herself that just because she didn’t know the plan, didn’t mean there wasn’t one, and let that be that for now. As for Serete, she wasn’t sure why he would change his plans to head toward almost certain death. It made her feel selfish for being grateful that he was there, as his presence was confident and comforting.
Toward the end of breakfast, Koko and Rindyl came to greet them and lead them down the seemingly never-ending series of swaying bridges, zip lines, slides, pulley systems, and stairs. Enouim found Serete close by to help her across many of these, and the rest of her companions encouraged her along. Serete and Vadik seemed to get along particularly well, showing off as they swung from one bridge to another, or leaning out precariously over the expanse beneath them. Oloren yelled at Vadik several times, but it didn’t stop him.
After entering a final spiral staircase inside one of the trees, Enouim caught a glimpse of the horses at long last. A window in the side of the tree opened up over a large branch perhaps a foot wide, hanging ten feet off the ground. They waited in a grassy glade, tacked up, supplied, and ready to go. Hardly containing herself, Enouim stuck her head out the window to take in the gilded morning light, the breeze, and the blessed forest floor. Inferno whinnied as he saw her, tossing his head and prancing his feet in place. Laughing with relief, Enouim climbed through the window and out onto the branch. Serete, Vadik, and Oloren looked on and the rest continued down the tree and out the more civilized door.
