The Awakened: Book One (23 page)

“Never mind that.  Wouldn’t it be nice to sleep in your own bed again?”

She doubted that he cared about her quality of sleep.  She had prepared herself for this moment and knew exactly what to do.  “Yes.  I miss sleeping in my own bed.”  She rose to her feet and followed Lemus to the master bedroom.  When she entered the room he closed and locked the door.

I’m not going anywhere.  If anyone is setting a trap here, it’s me.

When Lemus turned around Maeryn was standing close.  She reached up and placed her hands gently on his face.  He instinctively bent down and kissed her.  Maeryn felt like she would throw-up and took a deep breath to clear her mind. 
I planned for this to happen.

Lemus walked her over to the bed and sat her down.  When he began to take off his tunic she started to panic. 
Can I really do this?
  The question hung in her mind, waiting for an answer.  She took another deep breath. 
Of course I can; I have to.  I have no other choice!
  It wasn’t any comfort, but it worked.  She watched Lemus pull off his tunic and untie his loincloth.  He was skinny and looked even more repulsive without his clothes.  Somehow the whole scene was funny and she was able to think more clearly when she concentrated on the humor and nothing else.

This is just the first step.  Win him over tonight and you’ll have him.  You’ve got a baby to think about now, a baby that needs a safe place to live.  Eventually he’ll grow comfortable with you and that’s when you’ll make your move.

Chapter 14

Saba
turned from the western road and headed northeast into the hills, making his way on foot as the sun began to set.  The outskirts of
Bastul
were populated by farmers who were attending to various tasks outside, trying to make the most of the daylight.  Most of these hardworking people waved to Saba as he passed along the road and he couldn’t help but think of the contrast in lifestyles between the city and country folk.  These farmers worked from sunrise to sunset, sometimes even longer.  But within the city, the workday had already ended hours ago so that the citizens of
Bastul
could enjoy baths and leisure time before their evening meals.

The small dirt path wound through the foothills for a short distance before cutting into a deep canyon dividing the mountain range.  The setting sun cast strong shadows that separated the canyon into areas of intense orange light and patches of complete darkness.  By the time the path climbed out of the canyon and leveled out into an area of rolling meadows, the sun had dropped behind the ocean.  Saba turned off the road and followed a walking path between fields of mature lettuce and cabbage, ready to be harvested.

Just as expected, Trenus was still outside, washing the soil from his hands at the well.  It was difficult to see in the fading light, but he was a short, sturdy man, with light brown hair.  His clothing, like all country folk, was similar to what a slave might wear.  His tunic, now stained with dirt from a hard day’s work, was not made of white linen, but a coarser, thicker material that would stand up against the harsh lifestyle.  His sandals were not really sandals at all, but boots that covered his feet completely and laced on the top of the foot.  Trenus waved as soon as he caught sight of Saba.  It took a few minutes before they were within earshot of each other and by that time, he had finished washing his hands.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.  I’ve been walking most of the day.”

Trenus smiled.  “I’ve got a stew going.  Come inside.”

The main house was a humble wood building with tiled roof and walls plastered on the inside.  The layout was a departure from most houses in this region.  There were only a few doors off the main living area and it contained a limited amount of practical furniture.  Obviously, Trenus had built this place for function only.

“Have a seat.”  Trenus pointed to a table on the opposite side of the room.  It was situated only a few feet from the stove, upon which a pot of stew simmered.

“Thank you,” Saba replied, slumping into the chair, grateful to be off of his feet.  Once he caught his breath, he looked around the room.  He had only been here for an hour a few days ago to drop off his belongings before he went back to the city to check on Maeryn.  He felt bad now at barging in on Trenus, though it didn’t look as if it hindered his life one bit.

“What does that look mean?” Trenus asked, looking back at Saba while stirring the stew.

Saba
decided to give him an honest answer.  “This place needs a woman’s touch.”

“Yeah, I know.  Maybe someday it will have that.  But for now, I kind of like it.”

Saba
nodded his head.  “I must say, it is…efficient.”

Trenus laughed.  “That’s one way to say it.”  He brought two bowls of steaming food over to the table and set them down.  Pulling back his chair, Trenus was about to sit down when he realized that he had forgotten the spoons.  “Oops,” he said, turning around to grab those as well.  “I’m not used to entertaining company.”  He handed one to Saba.

“That’s quite all right.  Thank you, by the way, for letting me stay here.”

Trenus waived his hand in dismissal.  “Never mind that.  Tell me how it went, though it seems obvious by your quick return.”

“I only made it as far as the Market District before I was spotted.”

“Soldiers?” Trenus asked.  “And they let you go?”

“Yes.  I think I’ve worn out my welcome.”

The room was silent for a few minutes as the men began to eat their food.

Eventually, Saba looked up, wiping stew from his beard.  “It looks like I will have to find something else to do.”

“Well…you know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need?”

“Thank you.  I guess I’ll unpack my things tonight.”

Trenus pointed at a door to the right of the stove.  “That’s my only empty room and it’s used mostly for storage, so you’ll have to forgive the mess.”

“I’m sure it will be just fine.  Thank you.”

Several minutes passed before Trenus got up to refill his bowl.  He offered to do the same for Saba, but the old man politely refused.  “I’ve got so much on my mind that it has ruined my appetite.”

“Are you sure it’s not the stew?” Trenus asked, his face wrinkling into a smile.

Saba
couldn’t help but laugh.  “No, it’s not the food.  Actually, you could probably make quite a living in the city selling your meals.”  Saba suddenly felt relieved.  Trenus had a way of lightening the mood that made for easy conversation.

“So,” Trenus began.  “Even though we’ve been acquainted for years, I still don’t really know much about you.”

“What would you like to know?” Saba asked.

“I’ve never asked you how old you are.”

“No, you haven’t,” Saba replied with a smile, trying to match the man’s sense of humor.

Trenus laughed before rephrasing his statement into a question.  “Okay.  How old are you?”

Saba
looked down at the table.  “Actually, I’m not sure.”

 “What do you mean?  It’s a simple question.”

Saba
looked up and smiled.  “Yes…for most people, it is a simple question.  But I’m one of the exceptions.”

Trenus took his seat and began to eat from his second bowl of food, still carrying a puzzled look on his face.

Saba
decided to make the attempt to enlighten him, though he was hesitant about sharing this information.  “I’ve actually never told anyone this before.”

“Well, I’m honored,” Trenus replied.  “But please, continue.”

Saba
leaned back in his chair and crossed his right leg over his left, settling into a comfortable position that seemed to imply a long story would follow.  “My first memory is of waking up inside a small, tent-like structure.  I found myself lying on a bed of animal skins, clothed in a soft leather robe.  There were no other people in the tent, so I just lay there, taking in my surroundings.  Hours must have passed before I tried to sit up.  It seemed like something I should be able to do, but when I tried, my body wouldn’t respond.”  Saba looked up at the ceiling, trying to recall the details.  “A few minutes later, a young woman came into the tent.  She had long black hair and dark skin and was dressed the same as myself.  I immediately wondered if I was an elder of this woman’s tribe.  I only thought of being an elder because I could see my own hair, which was already white at that point, reaching down to my waist.  Indeed, she moved about the tent as if I was supposed to be there.  I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to get her attention.  Without the use of my body, I felt frustrated.  For some reason, it took a long time before I realized that I could try speaking.  I called out to her, but my words only came out as a grunt.  When she heard me, she spun around, startled.  She looked at me as if I was a ghost and her skin became pale.  Once she got the courage, she ran out of the tent, screaming at the top of her lungs.  What shocked me more than my encounter with this woman was the fact that I knew she was screaming a foreign language, but I understood every word.  She kept saying, over and over, ‘He is awake.  The old one is awake.’”

Trenus set his spoon carefully into his bowl and leaned back in his chair.  He had completely forgotten about eating and was now staring at Saba with his full attention.  “How long ago was this?”

“Twenty years.”

Trenus’ eyebrows shot up.  “You were already an old man back then…” he trailed off, trying to make sense of the story.

“I can see that if I tell you the whole story, you might end up more confused than me.  So I’ll try to skip to the point.  Apparently I had been living with these people for some time.  They were a nomadic tribe, following herds of wild animals and living off of what they hunted.  I tried to ask them how long I had been with them, but they didn’t seem to understand.  I asked them if they understood the passage of seasons and if they did, to make a mark in the dirt for every full cycle that I had been with them.  The younger people all looked to an old man who was the elder of the tribe.  He began to draw lines in the dirt.”

“How many?” Trenus blurted out.

“Nearly one hundred.”

The room was silent for a while, before Saba spoke again.  “Of course, his answer would be impossible.  I don’t think he understood my question.  Although they understood seasons, they had almost no knowledge of past generations of their own people.  They concerned themselves only with the present.  So…as you can see, I’m not sure.”

“And you have no memory of anything before?”

“Nothing,” Saba replied.

After minutes of silence, Trenus shook his head.  “I’ve never heard of something so strange.”

Saba
lifted his hands and shrugged his shoulders.  “I agree with you.  But that’s all I know.”

 “What brought you to
Bastul
?  I assume that all of this took place somewhere else?”

“Yes it did, in another country,” Saba replied, answering Trenus’ last question first.  “I began having dreams about a place that I had never seen.  The dreams compelled me to search.  I kept moving, staying with different people until the terrain around me matched what I saw in my dreams.”

“And that place was here?”

“Yes, in
Bastul
.”

After the meal, Trenus helped Saba move his belongings from the barn into the spare room.  Trenus insisted on doing most of the work, handing a candle to Saba and telling him that lighting the way was all that was necessary.  The work was completed in under an hour and when the last crate had been moved, Trenus bid Saba goodnight and headed to his bedroom.