Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga) (11 page)

Ahndien whirled around and found the sword.

In three quick steps she grabbed it, unsheathed it and charged the wolf with a ferocious shout.  She stopped right behind the wolf and lifted the sword.  "Get off of him!"

In an instant, the wolf turned around and leapt onto Ahndien knocking her onto her back.  The sword hit the dirt silently.  The beast planted its forepaws on her chest and lowered its foul-smelling mouth over her neck.

It was all she could do to wrap her hands around its thick neck and keep its fangs away from her neck.  Her thoughts scattered to every possible place:  Lao-Ying on the ground—had he been injured?  First mountain lions—now wolves, Father at the hands of Torian soldiers—what would they do to him?

// FROM YOUR HEART, AHNDIEN! //

  Lao-Ying's thoughts seemed so much stronger than she'd expected.  They brought her back to the moment.  From your heart.  Images of little Shao-Bao and Ah-Ma, at the hands of their attackers floated into her mind.  An urgent need to defend them overwhelmed her thoughts.

Rancid breath flew into her face as the snarling wolf thrashed its head to the left and right, trying to free itself from her grip.  Drops of its hot saliva fell on her face, fractions of an inch from her eyes.

And then it happened.

Something Ahndien could never have imagined.

At first it felt as though she had drank some very hot soup.  The heat in her belly rose up, but instead of coming up her throat, it went through her limbs, out to her fingertips.  When she opened her eyes, she could see nothing but golden light.

The wolf let out a painful whine and flew off of her body, as though someone very large had kicked it away.  Not wasting a moment, in case the wolf attacked again, she grabbed the sword, leapt to her feet and swung around looking for the wolf.

Where was it?  When she turned fully around she found it.  Laying just a few feet from Lao-Ying.  The wolf lay on its side, its entire body blackened.  Smoke rose from it and small flames continued to lick up out of its scorched body.  What now remained of its tail was nothing but a thin black crisp, twitching as black tendrils of smoke rose up into the air.  The wolf whined in agony, pink and black flesh peeling off of its body.

"But how—?"

"Have mercy, Ahndien."  As though nothing interesting had just happened, Lao-Ying stood up, brushed his sleeves and pants off.  "Finish it off.  It suffers in pain."

She lifted the sword.

"I...I've never..."

"For everything, there is an occasion.  It would have killed and devoured you had you not defended yourself.  You must now show it mercy by ending its suffering quickly."

The wolf, now breathing rapidly let out a mournful wail.

"Now, Ahndien."

She understood, even felt compassion for the wolf now.  It was not evil, only hungry.  In the clash for survival, she had won.  Now she must help it before it suffered any longer.  "I'm sorry."  With one quick blow, she struck it in the heart.  The wolf lurched in relfex, then let out a long, expiring breath.

Ahndien steadied herself on the hilt of the sword and sank to her knees.  "I'm sorry."  No matter what the reason, she hated killing.  Yes, she was helping to end the pathetic beast's suffering, but it didn't make this task any more pleasant.

Lao-Ying came over and put his hand on her shoulder.  "You have learned the first of many important lessons in warfare:  A warrior cannot escape killing, but he must never forget to show mercy and honor."

So much death.

In the past few days she had gone from a carefree girl, simple in understanding, innocent about the ways of the world, to one whose life now had come into turmoil.

She put her hand upon Lao-Ying's and patted it.  Then she stood and looked him over.  "What happened to you?  Are you hurt?"

He frowned, looked down and shook his head.  "No."

"Then why—?  Well, you did help me with that last wolf."

"You underestimate your own combat skills."

"I didn't do anything.  Was it not you who set the wolf on fire while—?"  She looked into his eyes.  A knowing smile creased the corners of his mouth and three distinct lines grooved his shiny forehead.

"From your heart, Ahndien.  From there did you fight."  He was gazing at her hands. 

Even before she looked at them herself, she began to understand.  She held up one hand, palm up.  And from her fingertips, tiny flames continued to stream.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Render's new life so consumed his time and thoughts that he barely realized that three months had passed.  Now that he and Kaine had found each other, on the rare occasion, they'd steal away in the middle of the night to explore—like they had back in Talen Wood—and find secluded locations such as rooftops, where they'd play tricks on passersby walking below, or just talk about their new lives.

Tonight, Render was not in the mood to pour water from the roof onto the people in the street.  So Kaine suggested a contest to see who could knock over the most jars or earthen pots lined up on a tree branch, using nothing but small stones.

But even this didn't hold Render's interest.  Something had been troubling him. 

Thoughts.

Dreams.

"You're not concentrating."  Kaine handed him another rock.  "What's the matter with you?"

"Wrong?  I don't know what you're talking about."  Render tossed a stone at the first jar and it flew clear of the entire branch.  "Sometimes, I just have this feeling that we'll see her again one day."

"Who?"

Render looked down at the rock in his hand.  After a false start or two he answered.  "Mother."

Kaine's smile remained for a while, but gradually faded.  He threw a stone, missed a jar, and clicked his tongue.  "Even if she were still alive, why would you want to see her?"  Kaine took another shot.  This time, with a crisp crack the pebble broke a tiny hole in the center of the smallest jar on the branch, and clinked around inside without so much as tipping it over.

"Good shot."

"I for one have no interest in even remembering her." A smug expression came over Kaine's face.

Render grabbed his shoulder and turned him.  "But, she was our mother."

"It's your turn.  Stop making excuses to cover your poor aim."

"I'm not joking.  How can you speak that way of our mother?"

"I don't want to talk about her, all right?  Now, throw your stupid rock or I'll throw you."

"Fine."  He did, and this time it struck a large goblet.  It made a ringing sound and fell over into the back alley where a cat shrieked in disapproval.  "You never want to talk about her."

"A fair assessment."

"Why not?"

"We are not going to discuss it."

"But I want to."

"It doesn't matter what you want, this discussion is over."  Kaine got up and climbed down from the roof, leaving Render beyond frustrated.

"Wait!"

But Kaine marched down the alley, not heeding him.  By the time Render got to the ground, Kaine was halfway to the open street.  "I said wait!"

When he caught up to Kaine, he shoved his shoulder.

"I'm in no mood for your annoyances." Kaine shoved Render back, sending him to the ground.  As he turned around to walk off, Render hooked his foot and tripped him.

"I am sick of your arrogance—all these years, treating me like a child!"

Kaine got up, grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up.  "You blathering idiot!"  He slammed Render's back against the wall so hard, it knocked the wind out of him.  "You are a child!"

"You're...not...my father!" For the first time in his life, he felt such anger towards Kaine he actually did something about it.  Render kicked him in the shin.  "And you're certainly not my mother!"

With a furious grunt, Kaine wrestled him to the ground.  They thrashed about, each trying to pin the other down or land a solid blow.  But all they accomplished was kicking up clouds of dust and tiring themselves out.

Kaine pushed away and held up his hands.  "What is the matter with you!"

"What's the matter with you?"

"I asked you first!"

Huffing and coughing, Render wiped the caked dirt from his mouth.  "You're only a couple of years older than me.  Why do you always have to treat me like you're my parent?  I'm sick to death of it!"

"You want to know why?  Really?  Well, fine then.  I'll tell you why!"  Catching his breath, Kaine approached, despite his brother's defensive posture.  His features softened and he stooped over, hands on his thighs like Render, and looked him in the eye.  "Mother put me in charge of your safety when you were just a baby.  I promised to look after you."

"But why are you so angry whenever I ask about her?"

His eyes became distant, as if foreseeing an impending disaster, but not being able to avert it.  "Because…."

"Because what?"

The transformation of his demeanor came about so gradually, Render didn't recall when the tears actually began to fall from his brother's eyes.  All that anger melted away like the wax of a candle, leaving behind an extinguished wick of sorrow.

"Because she left us."

Whatever it was that hit Render, it carried the weight of seventeen years of waiting and wondering, longing to know the truth of his origins.  "No.  You're lying!  She wouldn't do that to us!"

Kaine sniffed sharply and wiped his face.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't want to tell you because….well… I was protecting you."

"I don't need your blasted protection!"  Forgetting the trouble he had just caused by doing so, Render shoved his brother.  "I'm not a child!"

But Kaine did not retaliate.  Instead of anger or insult, only pity appeared in his eyes.  "All these years you wanted to know about her, wanted to believe that one day we'd see her again.  I'm sorry, I just couldn't— "

"You lied to me!"  Now he was punching Kaine in the arm.  But Kaine did not fight back.

"I wasn't lying, I just couldn't tell you the truth.  For your own good."

"Don't ever protect me again!  You will never again determine what is for my own good!  Curse you, Kaine!  Why didn't you just tell me the truth from the beginning?"

Kaine only blinked.

"Why!"

"I don't know.   Maybe deep down, I wanted to believe what you did.  That we might see her again one day.  That once we were loved."

Render sniffed away bitter tears. "How could she love us if she just left us like that?  Defenseless children, to be raised as slaves?"

"That can't have been her intention."

"I hate her!"

"No, Render.  Don't say that.  This is precisely why I didn't want to tell you.  You mustn't hate her."

"But you do!"

"I'm angry at her for leaving us.  But…well, that doesn't mean I hate her."

They stood, staring at each other's bloodshot eyes, trying to look tough, not like pathetic children.  Finally, not knowing what else to say to his brother, Render turned his back and whispered bitterly, "Just leave me alone."

"Come on, Rend–"

"Don't!"  He held up a finger.  "I said, Leave me alone!"

Kaine's feet dragged across the dirt until he was gone and all that could be heard was the busy goings about of the people in the square, getting ready to go home and eat dinner with their families.  Children laughed and skipped down the streets, calling out, "Mother," or "Father."  This dragged Render to the ground with his back against the wall.  He lowered his face into his knees and wept.

"I don't hate you, Mother."  In fact, more than ever, he wished he could see his parents.  He would even settle for remembering her face, the sound of her voice, the smell of her perfume, which must surely be a sweet as honeysuckle.

And then, to his surprise, something warm pressed up against his leg. Without lifting his face, Render reached out and felt soft fur.  "Hello?"

The black cat, stared up at him with those deep emerald eyes.  Render smiled.  "Oh, it's you again."  She leaned her head against his hand and purred.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The sun had just begun its ascent over the western hills, but Edwyn had already been awake and about the wood for two hours.  For the most part, the guards at the citadel gates knew of his morning routine, or ritual, as one might call it.

No one else knew of his visits to the now barren wood that had long been abandoned since his childhood village had been annexed into the ever-expanding kingdom.  And though for decades, nothing remained of his home, his past, his family, Edwyn continually returned to the ruins to think, to remember.  Or perhaps to forget, he couldn't be sure which.

The sentry called down from his tower. "A fine morning, Sir Edwyn."

"Indeed."  Edwyn pulled down his hood, turned his eyes upwards and nodded his thanks as the enormous iron gates opened for him.  Render would soon be at the library awaiting his history lesson.  And his combat exams thereafter, to be taken against the worst possible opponent.  An opponent who by now was certainly an able swordsman under the tutelage of the King's premier military commander.

If he had survived the training.

Edwyn tightened his belt and hastened his steps past the merchants selling their wares, the farmers peddling their produce and livestock.  Even in the fresh of the morning, the stench of rotting vegetables and yesterday's refuse hung in the air.  But such was life in the citadel.  If he hadn't been accustomed to it by now, he never would be.

As he continued, he noticed the haggard man who every day since the kingdom of Valdshire Tor had begun to expand its protectorate towards the Eastern borders, stood by Hawthern Fountain, pacing back and forth speaking quietly only to those that would stop and listen.  Many mocked him and called him 'The Prophet.'

"Will you lend an ear today, Sir Edwyn?"  The grimy prophet gently grasped his elbow.  "It's about your—"

"My answer has remained steadfast for the past eleven years, old man.  It shall not today change."  Usually, The Prophet would release his arm and turn to another passerby.  This time, he clutched it harder.