Desert Rising (17 page)

 

Chapter 10

W
HEN
K
A
DAR AWOKE,
it was late morning, and he was alone in the bed. He straggled down to the dining hall to find the news much the same. Ava was still missing. He changed into breeches and a tunic for weapons practice, and walked to the Temple stables, feeling choked inside.

Kadar was a little early for practice and waited with the other young men for Severin to arrive to begin their sparring session. He was lost in thought when comments from two men in front of him started penetrating the fog surrounding him.

“Come to the warehouse today, see how pretty she is for yourself,” one man said with a laugh. Kadar recognized him as Eaton, the third-­circle man who'd given him the hint about where to go for a warehouse.

The other man shrugged, and they walked off to get training swords and bucklers.

Kadar grabbed the tunic of the man beside him.

“What were they talking about?” he demanded, trying to remember the man's name. They'd sparred together in class on several occasions. Rage was making it hard to think.

The man looked surprised at his vehemence. “I've heard them talk like this before. They find a pretty Forsaken girl and take her somewhere,” he said in a low voice. “Bastards are nothing more than animals, treating a kid like that.”

“You allow that?” Kadar asked incredulously.

“There's no law against it though there should be,” the man answered. “There's nothing I can do but stay out of it.”

“Mathias!” someone called behind Kadar, and the man nodded quickly and went to meet his friend.

Kadar narrowed his eyes. Blood was pounding in his ears as he breathed deeply to try to control his anger. It didn't help.

Severin arrived and Kadar picked up his practice weapon, a dull, heavy sword. He pushed aside another man to pair up as Eaton's sparring partner. Eaton smiled ingratiatingly as they picked up shields, recognizing Kadar as higher ranking.

Kadar smiled back, but it wasn't a kind smile. Severin gave them orders to begin sparring.

“I heard you talking to your friend,” he said pleasantly to the other man, crossing swords with him. “Got something good?”

Eaton smiled as he parried Kadar's deliberately weak attack. “You interested?” he asked.

Kadar danced back, letting the other man press forward. “Might be. Depends on where. I've got a little time later.”

“It's right down where I showed you, by where you've got your space. Corner building. No one goes around there in evenings. Got a cozy little place, rugs on the wall so no one can hear what's going on inside.”

That was all the direction Kadar needed. He used his full force and attacked, driving Eaton back a step.

“What about her family?” he asked. “How do you think they feel?”

Eaton barely parried the blow. “They're just criminals and thieves. They're probably happy not to have another mouth to feed. They're not like us.” He was slightly out of breath from the force of the blow. “Hey, relax, it's not like it's your little sister or anything,”

Kadar let loose a flurry of blows, driven by anger he barely kept checked. Eaton wasn't even close to Kadar in skill, and Kadar drove him back as Eaton barely warded off the heavy blows of the blunt sword.

“In the desert, every little girl is our sister,” he told the man, who was beginning to look frightened, even with the dulled sword. Even a blunt weapon could kill.

“There's no law,” the other man stuttered.

“Some things are beyond the law,” Kadar said, toying with the man, putting blow after blow on his shield to weaken his arm, while parrying Eaton's sword easily. “Some things shouldn't have to be laws. We kill men like you in the desert, so you won't spawn more of your kind.”

Kadar landed a blow on the man's wrist that snapped it, sending Eaton to the ground. Eaton howled and brought his shield up. Kadar batted the buckler away and was preparing a heavy blow when his sword hand was grabbed from behind, and he was pulled away.

“Easy now, Kadar,” Severin said, getting between him and Eaton. “Back off—­he's down. You can't keep hitting a wounded man.”

Kadar didn't take his eyes off Eaton. “You understand, I hear about any more little girls disappearing, I'll know where to find you,” he said seriously. The man clutched his wrist, his eyes wide with shock, and nodded hurriedly.

A silent circle had grown around Kadar and the wounded man, with Severin at the center between the two.

Severin looked behind Kadar. “Aggie, we need a medic,” he called, and Kadar turned slightly to see the riding instructor watching them from behind the fence.

Aggie snorted contemptuously. “Let him heal himself,” she said, meeting Kadar's eyes in solid approval. She turned and walked back to the stables, leaving Severin gaping. He turned his incredulous gaze back to Kadar.

“I think you need some time to cool down, Hasifel,” he said. “Take a few days to consider how we treat fellow trainees.”

Severin reached for Kadar's sword, and Kadar reversed it, putting the pommel in Severin's hands.

As Kadar turned to leave, Mathias caught his gaze from the back of the crowd and touched two fingers to his forehead in a quiet salute. Kadar nodded back silently, then turned and walked the dusty path down past the arenas, his head held high. He was partway to the Temple, heading toward the warehouse district, when he heard hooves behind him and stepped off the road to let the courier pass.

“Get up here, you young idiot.” Aggie stared down at Kadar, riding what looked to be a desert horse. Her
feli
trotted at its heels, glaring at Kadar when he walked up. He scrambled up behind her.

“Did you find out where the girl is?” she asked, and Kadar gave her directions.

“I thought the deities didn't care,” he said, “as long as it's not a circle family.”

“The deities don't,” she answered, guiding the horse though the pilgrims on the road. “I do, and if I ask nicely, Aryn might stir herself to help. Or not. And every acolyte under Aryn has been trained in healing. Others are more talented in that area, but I'll do in a pinch.”

Kadar agreed silently. “Nice mare,” he complimented her, and she laughed.

“She's one of your uncle's,” she told him.

The row of storage houses was quiet, and the horse's hooves were loud on the packed-­earth road. They dismounted in front of one he thought belonged to Eaton.

“I think it's this one,” he said, and tried the door. “Locked.”

Aggie pushed past him. She laid her hands flat against the heavy iron of the lock and closed her eyes. Her
feli
leaned fully against her legs. The metal glowed suddenly, and he heard a click.

“Ah, Aryn's taken an interest,” Aggie said in a distant voice. “She likes children.” She pushed the door open.

Kadar grimaced as the smell of feces and old urine wafted out. Aggie walked in as though she hadn't noticed, and Kadar followed in her wake.

“Looks like they didn't know where to get rid of the last girl they took,” she said, kneeling beside a pile of rags dumped to one side of the floor beside the door.

Kadar looked more closely and realized it was a small body, eyes open in death. He didn't look any closer as Aggie murmured a blessing and closed the girl's eyes.

A sound from one corner drew his attention, but Aggie beat him to the crumpled brown form curled against the wall.

“There, there,” she murmured to the girl, gathering her in her arms. The shackle around Ava's leg glowed before it fell off. The woman and the girl were a silent statue, and Kadar held his breath, not wanting to disturb them.

Aggie sighed suddenly, and Ava's head slumped. Kadar gazed on in horror.

“She's not dead, is she?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Aggie shook her head. “Sleeping. For all the abuse she's taken, they haven't injured her badly. Aryn has done all she will, and the rest will heal with time. Here.” She offered Ava to Kadar, who picked her up, her golden head resting against his shoulder. “Get her out of here.”

She stood and followed him outside. “Take her to your home,” Aggie instructed him. “Keep her safe. I have business here that needs attending to.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

Her face turned cold, and she placed a hand on her
feli's
head. “Aryn has demanded I do something about this place,” she said, her voice remote. Kadar shivered.

Aggie smiled kindly at him. “And I will, though I'll not be good for anything for days afterward. Go in peace, Kadar.”

He recognized a dismissal when he heard one. He gently shifted Ava to a more comfortable position in his arms and began the walk back to the merchant district.

Kadar garnered many curious glances on the street, a tall dark man carrying a brown burden, but he glared down the curious stares. No one dared stop him though he was cursed at once or twice. The faces became friendlier as he started encountering merchant stalls, with the desert men and women's faces worried for him and the girl rather than condemning. Many of his ­people were just starting to close their booths and turned to watch, shouting questions at Kadar and offering shelter for him and the girl.

“She's alive,” he called back. “I'm taking her home.”

A ­couple of the younger boys dashed ahead of Kadar. He was weary and stumbling but continued on, wishing the family house was closer to the center of town rather than at the far edge. His arms and back ached terribly with the girl's weight, but he wouldn't put her down until they were safe inside.

He turned the corner and met Uncle Tarik, who was coming at a run. The man stopped, a stunned expression on his face.

“I didn't believe it,” he told Kadar. “The boys told me . . . you look whipped. Let me take her; I'll get her back to the house. Raella's sent for the medic.”

Kadar shifted Ava into his uncle's arms without waking the girl. His arms were heavy as he followed his uncle, and he flexed them to get the cramps out. Aunt Raella met them at the door.

“Take her up the stairs, to Simon's room. I've sent him after Farrah and her mother. Kile's gone for Nala, the medic,” she said. She put a hand on Kadar's arm in quick blessing before following Uncle Tarik up the stairs.

Kadar sat down at the long table. The anger that had been pushing him ebbed, and he was left exhausted and shaking. He leaned his forearms against the table and looked down at the scarred surface, breathing deeply. A cup of
tash
appeared in front of him, and he looked up as Uncle Tarik sat down beside him. He sipped the drink with appreciation. The door banged open in the hall, and he stood in time to see Nala sweep upstairs with her bag. Farrah and an older woman he assumed was her mother were fast on her heels.

Uncle Tarik put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “Let them sort it out, son.”

Kadar agreed and sipped his
tash
. He wondered if Aryn had actually helped the girl and what was happening back with Aggie.

Simon burst in. “Wind funnel,” he yelled, “there's a wind funnel in the warehouse district,” and Uncle Tarik shushed him. He eyed Kadar a moment, then told Simon to go out back. Uncle Tarik stared at Kadar.

“Wind funnel on a cloudless day,” Kadar said thoughtfully, staring back at Uncle Tarik. “Aryn is the goddess of wind. She must have been angrier than I thought.”

Uncle Tarik let out his breath in a whistle. “I think you'd better tell us what happened.”

Kadar nodded. Aunt Raella came down the stairs and joined them. She shook her head at their inquiries.

“The room was too crowded, so Nala ordered me out,” she explained. “Go on, Kadar.”

Kadar told them about the fight and his experience with Aryn's acolyte. He shuddered and fell silent when he came to the part about the dead girl. He could still see her blind eyes staring out of the rags. Aunt Raella squeezed his arm silently.

Kadar, Raella, and Tarik looked up as the medic came down the stairs. Aunt Raella fetched a cup of
tash
for her, and she sat beside Kadar.

“Not much for me to do,” Nala said. “She's got bruises, but fewer injuries than I'd expected. If I didn't know better, I'd say that she'd been seen by a healer. She's in a deep sleep and has not woken yet.”

“Aryn healed her,” Kadar said, and finished his story.

The medic nodded in satisfaction. “That explains the healing sleep. It's about time Aryn stirred herself,” she said, to Kadar's surprise. “Forsaken or not, she's been quiet on this mistreatment far too long. I'm glad her acolyte gave her the kick in the pants she needed.”

Uncle Tarik looked slightly worried and ran his thumb along his brow. “We could get some trouble from the Illian folk. Protecting a Forsaken like she's our own.” He looked at Kadar. “Not that I'd have it any other way,” he reassured him. “I think we need to watch out for a visit from Voras's soldiers. Possibly even business slacking off the next few weeks.”

Nala shook her head. “I don't think so,” she told him. “With Aryn's obvious approval in this, Voras will have to go through her to get to you.” She looked at Kadar. “And you couldn't have thought of a better way to get sympathy for the Forsaken, Kadar. Most Illians are disgusted by those perverts. They'll be glad someone took care of the problem for them. I think you'll see more approval than disapproval in the next few days.”

She declined to stay for dinner and gave Kadar a peck on the cheek before leaving.

“I'm glad you and your sister have come to Illian,” she told him. “You keep turning over those rocks; it makes things more interesting around here.”

Kadar waited for Farrah to come down, but she stayed with her sister through the evening. Her mother came down shortly after dusk and thanked him profusely before disappearing into the night, saying she was needed back home since Farrah had things under control.