The Forgotten Stone, page 43
“Yes, in fact, I do.” Enouim snatched the man’s dagger, ran at the Sumu struggling to sit up next to Ruakh, and sliced through his bonds.
“Hey! You can’t let them go free!”
“I’m not letting them go free. You want him in the river, I’ll put him in the river. Somebody give me parchment and pen.”
“Who goes to war with parchment and pen?”
One of the men called to another further off, and he disappeared in the forest. Moments later he returned with twenty more Gorgenbrilders carrying more bound Sumus. Parchment and pen was found and delivered to Enouim. Enouim stepped back into the shallows, careful to stay in the bounds of the river should need arise.
“Almost all of them speak the common tongue, don’t they?” Enouim asked.
“Yes,” Canukke answered. “They use it with each other since there are multiple languages between the smaller tribes Malum joined together.”
Enouim nodded. Three of the bound tribesmen had woken and were surveying the scene with silent alarm. Enouim gestured toward them. “Move a muscle, and all my friends will fight over who gets to kill you first.”
Shouts of approval rang out from the Gorgenbrilders. Enouim glanced back at Malum. “Same for you.” She twisted a finger and a whirlpool swirled around his torso like liquid ropes. His lip curled, but he did not move.
Enouim gestured to her compatriots. “Where are the rest of the tribesmen? There were more. A lot more. Bring them to the river.”
“Even the dead ones?”
“Are these the only ones left alive?”
“Yes. There was some debate about whether to burn, drown, or dismember, so we were saving these.”
Bile flew up her throat. Enouim grimaced and swallowed its bitter taste as hard as she could. It was evil. How could Gorgenbrild blame the tribes for their brutality? Gorgenbrild was evil.
“Just these then. To the river.” Enouim turned back to the river and a tear slipped down her cheek. Malum’s expression was unreadable as he took her in, but Ruakh offered her his hand in support. She squeezed his hand, then dropped it. Now was not the time to look weak. She wiped her face and turned back to her people.
“What can you do?”
“Dash them to pieces on the rocks!”
“Drown them!”
“Water warrior!”
Eight of perhaps fifteen tribesmen were awake now. Enouim wrote a note on the parchment and tucked it inside the leather breastplate of one of the tribesmen. He spat in her face. His captor slugged him in the gut, but said nothing. She directed the hostages all be placed in the river and their hands and legs freed. Enouim bent all her focus on the fifteen enemy men. This would be the greatest challenge to her powers yet.
She leaned close to Serete. “Watch my back. I can’t focus on anything else.” Serete nodded and placed a hand on his sword hilt.
Enouim shut her eyes tight, feeling the forms of the men through the tendrils of water around them as the river reached up like vines to cover them. Gorgenbrilders on the bank cheered and the Sumus let out terrorized screams as she pulled them down into the river depths in a bubble and shot them upstream. They had come from the north, and to the north they would return. Far away.
For several minutes her concentration bent on swirling her captives up, up, upriver, round curves, and further and further away. She flinched as one of them hit rocks on the side of the river about a mile away. He likely died on impact. Enouim felt her control wane the further the men were carried, and at long last she dumped them on the bank on the eastern side of the river. She heaved and sighed.
“Are they dead?”
“There has been death,” she hedged. More celebration.
Enouim rested briefly and conferred with Ruakh, Canukke, and Serete, and it was decided that Serete would go with this group to route any surviving enemy and carry the news of Malum Khoron-khelek’s capture to Gorgenbrild. Serete would gather news and return in the early hours of the morning while Enouim took Malum, Canukke, and Ruakh to the river bottom. It would be safer there for now.
Enouim would retreat to the river with her powerful charge in tow and stay the first half of the night there, then sleep on the far side while Canukke and Ruakh watched over Malum. Canukke had begged her to let him take Malum’s head, or at least his right arm and sword to show the people and parade about the streets.
“It would relieve their pain and encourage them. It would prove that their oppressor was captured,” he had explained.
But Enouim had shook her head. “It would add blood to blood, and they would drown themselves in it. Let the crimson of this night seep into the ground … they have won the battle today. It is enough. If they do not believe we have him now, they will believe tomorrow when they see him.”
Still, she had allowed Canukke to take Malum’s sword, a black scimitar with ornate golden inlay in its hilt. “There is none like it. This will ease their minds for the time being.”
Enouim brought them all to the bottom of the river in a bubble, safe and removed from prying eyes until it was fully night. Bitterly, Canukke surrendered the scimitar to Serete to take into Gorgenbrild. Canukke could not bear to leave Khoron-khelek, and took seriously his duty of keeping him alive—if for no other reason than in hopes of killing him later himself.
48
Canukke held a torch lighting the bubble, and Enouim, Canukke, and Ruakh sat in a circle with Malum on the river bottom. A fish darted by in the water next to them, swerving to avoid the narrow tube of air and torch smoke leading up to the surface. Malum stared at Enouim with shock. She hadn’t known his beady eyes could get so big. His surprise wore off and he lunged for Canukke, but Enouim let the water come into the bubble and catch Malum up in it, toying with him until his face turned blue. She dumped him gasping and spluttering back into the bubble, and he struggled little after that.
They spent most of the night at the river bottom, only coming up to allow Enouim a few hours’ rest before daybreak. Baird had found and fetched Inferno for Enouim, and met her early at the riverbank.
“I’ve never been so happy to see you!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.
He laughed and gave her a big bear hug. “You thought I would leave in a huff and then forget all about you, eh?” He winked.
“Well …” Enouim eyed Canukke darkly.
Canukke reached out and clasped Baird’s arm. “An honor to have you join us, friend. I misjudged you. I owe you a debt.”
Baird dipped his head. “Kalka’an and Gorgenbrild have always been friends. No reason to let that die now. Speaking of which, everyone is dying to see the two of you.”
“The … two of us?” Enouim stammered, glancing at Canukke with uncertainty.
Baird nodded. “Oh, news of you has spread. Canukke has always been their conquering hero, but today a new hero is born. They even have a few nicknames circulating about. Water warrior, river fury, lady of wrath …”
Enouim scrunched up her nose. “What?!”
Baird shrugged. “They need some finessing. But they are excited to see you, and what you’re promised to bring them.” Baird tipped his head at Khoron-khelek, who glared back at them.
The time had come. Within an hour, twenty Gorgenbrild and Kalka’an warriors arrived to escort them into Gorgenbrild. Enouim mounted Inferno and they turned the horses toward home. She released a heavy sigh and surrendered to the rolling motion of Inferno’s walk, caressing his neck. She looked up at the beautiful azure spread across the sky, swathed ever so lightly in dreamy white wisps. If only her heart could be as tranquil. Eh’yeh, help me.
Enouim rode in front with Canukke abreast, Baird and Ruakh at the flanks, and Serete behind. Gagged and arms bound, Malum Khoron-khelek rode a horse in the middle, surrounded by them all. Canukke and Baird had protested this, Canukke suggesting he be tied and dragged along behind the horses on the ground, and Baird suggesting he be strung up between two horses and left to hang the whole way in. Enouim vetoed this and stated that he was a leader and would be treated with more respect than that. She did, however, request an older, slow animal for him to ride in on. Even with bound hands, he could easily maneuver the horse with his legs.
The animal they chose was a truly haggard creature, ribs showing, gray coat unkempt, and head hanging low as he walked. Enouim felt pity pull at her heart and thought it wrong to pair such a good-willed animal with the likes of the villain behind her. The poor thing reminded her of Pinky. Still, it must be a horse he came in on, and better this one than a more able-bodied specimen. If Malum made a break for it and miraculously broke free of his escorts, they would quickly overtake his horse.
When people saw them coming, shouts erupted from the buildings ahead, and ten more Gorgenbrilders and Kalka’an men rode out to join the escort, Gabor at the front. Enouim let out a heavy sigh as she looked at her home. Smoke carried high into the air from burning bodies, and explosives from the night before had damaged many houses. Pastures once filled with well-fed horses were empty, and the comforting sounds of sheep and goats were missing. Still, the alternating green and gray soothed the ache in her heart.
Enouim arched an eyebrow at several rangers among the Gorgenbrilder and Kalka’an warriors. Baird had wrangled up more than his own countrymen! Kilith spoke to them quietly, giving orders to men around him and dispersing them in various directions as Enouim led Malum Khoron-khelek’s processional.
She scanned the survivors lining the street. An older man, gaunt and bent, gaped at her with awe. His big brown eyes were curious, innocent, weary, hopeful. But as his gaze passed beyond her to Khoron-khelek a shade of hideous hatred fell across his face. He snarled and spat.
They passed rows of houses, bloodstained cobbles, and her many expectant countrymen. Whispers washed through the people, who lined the street and fell in behind them as they passed. The people were all on foot, only Kalka’an men and a few choice Gorgenbrild warriors on horses. Horses would likely be a great commodity for days to come, with so many starved, stolen, or killed by the Sumus.
They were nearly at Twedori’s house and the open square when an arrow flew through the air. Enouim ducked and turned. Tribesmen! They had come for their leader. As she turned, she saw the arrow glance off Baird’s shield as he raised it to block. Murmurs in the crowd rippled down the path, horses pawed, and Baird reared his horse in protest. Enouim glanced back in the direction of the arrow. A Gorgenbrilder perched on a house two houses down. There were no tribesmen. He had been aiming for Khoron-khelek.
Among the stir and the scuffle, a clattering came from behind her, and by the time she turned again, Khoron-khelek had managed to gather his feet under him on the horse. Still gagged and hands bound, he leaped onto Ruakh’s horse. Sky shied in a sidestep into the stone wall to her right, and Malum pulled his arms under him on the hindquarters of the horse and threw his still-tied hands over Ruakh’s neck. Ruakh whirled his staff behind him and struck Khoron-khelek so that they both fell from the horse. In an instant Malum was accosted again, gag freed from his mouth, hands bound in front rather than behind, but held on the ground by Ruakh, Serete, and Gabor.
Chaos erupted as the people began to scream, “Kill him! Kill him! Spill his blood for the blood of our sons and daughters! Spill it for our pain! Spill it for our land! String him up in pieces for the birds to feed on his carrion flesh!”
The people pressed in, and Enouim’s squad pushed them back. Anger boiled in her chest. Did they really believe they were so different from the Sumus? Canukke positioned himself next to Khoron-khelek, still mounted, surveying the scene. Enouim pushed Inferno forward between Malum, Canukke, and the crowd.
“Enough!” she called. But the people ignored her. “Enough!” she called again, raising her voice. Exasperated, Enouim reached down and drew Canukke’s sword from his side, thrusting it into the air and screaming with all she had, “ENOUGH!”
The crowd settled, and their eyes fixed upon her. She heard whispers of water warrior filter through the audience.
“People of Gorgenbrild! I thought you braver than this,” she said in a loud, clear voice. She let her words fall and watched as confusion and tension filled their expressions. “Yes, I am your water warrior. I am also daughter of Rotan and Qadra Cokanda. My father was as Gorgenbrilder as they come. You sent away this sword”—Enouim thrust Canukke’s blade into the air again—“and knew what you were asking for when you sent it.
“You asked for savagery; you asked for conquest; you asked for a hero to snatch a legendary weapon and return to overthrow any who dared approach our doorstep. And your champion, Canukke Topothain, delivered!”
Cheers. Canukke inclined his head, but turned a curious eye on Enouim.
“You did not ask for your bartender to entangle herself in military matters, and believe me, neither did I. But we don’t always get what we want. And it is good for you that we don’t, or some of you may not have been standing here with us today. You asked for deliverance, and you have it. You asked for safety, and it has been restored to you.”
Whoops and hollers thudded in response, and a chant broke out. Water warrior! Water warrior! Water warrior!
Enouim gestured to Khoron-khelek. “This man is but a man! And you are but men and women yourselves. Our code demands blood for blood and bone for bone—unless a stronger man sees retaliating against the weak as a waste of effort, the slight too small a thing to bother with—the mercy of strength. This is an honorable, acceptable response to an altercation. And do you find yourselves so equal with this man that he warrants such attention?” Enouim searched their faces. They were angry, but attentive … and surprised. This twist on their logic piqued their interest.
“Malum Khoron-khelek is a leader with his own code. If we judge them on our code in our land, do we expect them to judge us based on their code in their territory to the north? What is a code worth? And yet even our own code lowers us to his level, his depravity. You say he is an animal, and so you become animals yourselves. Have you no humanity?”
She continued. “If Gorgenbrild is full of beasts, what complaint do you have? If composed of humans, where is your heart? A man who believes he is an animal will certainly never learn otherwise if he is always treated like one. I left you as a bartender, and I return as your water warrior. In the same way, we went in search of the Ecyah Stone and found that it brought more life than it did death. And he judges what is man and what is beast.”
“Bring us the stone!”
“Kill him with it!”
“Send him where he and his kind belong. Death! Death!”
Enouim sighed. They heard nothing. They understood nothing. They could not comprehend Eh’yeh in this moment. She hadn’t really expected them to, but hoped they would at least be open to it. Perhaps she could show them just a piece of Eh’yeh. Gorgenbrilders had never been much for talk, unless over drinks recounting their violent escapades.
She held up her hand. “It is my right to kill this man!”
Cheers, agreement.
“He came looking for me and attacked me. All of you he has hurt, capturing Gorgenbrild and afflicting it, but I too am of Gorgenbrild and he did these things also to me. And he tried to take my life with his own hands!”
They shouted their support.
Enouim dismounted and faced Malum Khoron-khelek. His eyes were dark, body tense, shoulders drawn back in arrogance. The muscles of his arms flexed in the grip of his captors, and his visage contorted in utter disdain. She walked forward and passed the sword in her hand back to Canukke.
“Shall I?” he asked eagerly.
Enouim shook her head.
“You could hardly hold your own in battle against a rabbit,” Khoron-khelek said, and the condescension dripped from him like butter. “Your people are deceived.”
“You’re right. You are the better fighter, and I never claimed differently. But it was not you or me controlling the outcome last night.”
Khoron-khelek raised his voice to the crowd. “You think holding me will save you? You think this water wretch is worth anything? I will never surrender, so kill me and see how many I take with me! Each one of you deserves to die—that is why I came! My spirit shall return with the strength of a hundred thousand Sumus. Kill me, and I only grow stronger. You return your loyalties to your weak— ”
Enouim didn’t let him finish. She crossed her arms in front of her chest in an “X” and stepped forward, pressing into his chest. Audible gasps from the audience escalated into a roar that drowned out anything else he tried to say. In the midst of his vitriol, she offered him the mercy of strength.
Malum’s face twisted into a disgusted scowl, and he spat in her face. His beady eyes bore into her soul, and a sneer replaced his scowl. He spoke in a threatening low tone that only she and the two holding him could hear above the din. “You are nothing and no one. You are not even one of them. They will learn soon enough.”
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, but she leveled her stare back at him and allowed her own expression to soften. It was not of Eh’yeh to match his sentiment. The two of them were far more alike than she wanted to admit. Enouim gazed at him intently, studying the hardness in his exterior, and wondered how exhausting it must be to carry such great anger for so long.
Enouim bowed before him to honor his title as emperor of his people, and urged Canukke to take him away. The people were in chaos, shouting, screaming, fighting among one another after watching the unthinkable unfold before their eyes. As Canukke lead him away, their wrath was again fixed on their oppressor, their captive, Malum Khoron-khelek.
“Time to go,” Kilith said in her ear, stepping behind her out of the sea of humanity and taking her arm. “From the dirty looks you’re getting, Khoron-khelek is not their only target.”
49
Kilith hurried her into a large home to the side, Twedori’s house. They entered the large foyer where one door lead to a formal dining area and a kitchen, one to a grand meeting hall, and one to bedrooms. Though the furniture was as ornate as Gorgenbrild could produce, the walls had been stripped bare, so that only hooks and tattered Sumu garments hung where swords and vessels of trade once hung proudly on display.
