Heir of Scars I: Parts 1-8 (67 page)

“Have you informed the Sisters of our situation, Emoni?” Adria asked, searching for any hint of the Sisterhood’s motivation. 
Is this battle a part of their plan, somehow... or Taber’s at least?

Adria had always dismissed such rumors of prophecy, but perhaps merely out of prejudice. What she had seen among the Aesidhe eventually dissuaded her from any full denial of such phenomena. Still, she hesitated to imagine these three Sisters sharing the ability of one such as Shísha.

“They are aware, Your Highness. They are reluctant to visit the deck and risk the sailors’ distraction.” Emoni blinked, slowly and beautifully. Her eyes, a striking mixture of blue and brown, had an almost violet cast to them when turned to the light. She seemed conscious of this effect, and of her other subtle mannerisms, using them as punctuation or distraction. A slight raising of her shoulder here, a turning of her ankle or a tilt of her head there... almost imperceptible, and certainly not enough to betray any nervousness or inattention on her part.

Calculated to seem natural, accidental...
 and Adria understood at once that, though younger and of lesser rank, this girl was already trained far better than the three Sisters she now served. 
She has a purpose apart from theirs — and it is a superior purpose.

Adria merely nodded in response, and Emoni returned to her place beside Falburn, the green of her skirts catching in the cool salt winds, and she seemed to slow a moment, as she had when Adria had first seen her. And this triggered an earlier memory, somehow, but fleeting as morning mist.

A dream...? A dream of... drowning?

Blinking away and shrugging off the impression, Adria rose onto her haunches to survey the forces gathered on The Echo’s decks. She had to admit that, now settled into positions, they made an impressive enough display.

The sailors, sun-seasoned and confident, stood at ready for any eventuality, bows or lines in hand, some with bucklers strapped to their arms to catch any arrows from above. Their faces bore no hint of cowardice, even the younger ones, now readying shields for linesmen or set to run arrows or bring up buckets of water from overboard, should the enemy choose to resort to fire.

Even the Knights, Adria had to recognize, looked more imposing once fully prepared. Their tabards and plumes waved and fluttered, the sharp lines and colors of their shields shone black and violet, and their mail glittered in the bright light — and now Adria was glad even of their armor, if only for what it might say to the enemy in all its gleaming.

Perhaps that will give them some pause...

“Not so bad, yes?” Hafgrim nodded, following her gaze.

Elias nodded. “Battles at sea are rare. Few risk the danger to themselves, unless they have an easy majority. It is difficult enough to risk an army to battle, but to risk an entire ship is generally foolish. There is no real hope for retreat, no viable defeat. Any rout is final.”

“They are pirates,” Hafgrim shrugged.

“Most likely, Highness,” Elias nodded. “But such pirates usually ply shipping lanes, and have a good idea what cargo a vessel carries before they attack. Unless desperate, these will likely see our forces arrayed and take flight.”

Only then did Adria notice an oddity among the two lines of Knights on the main deck — one of them bore a crossbow instead of a longbow, though such a weapon was ill-favored by the Aeman, and by the Knights of Darkfire in particular, as she remembered.

That must be the one Emoni spoke of to the captain.

Quietly, she pointed him out to Elias, who nodded and shrugged. “His name is Meynard, but I know little more of him. It is said he has one weak hand — a curse from birth, but I cannot say for certain. Truth or no, he has a special dispensation for use of the weapon.”

Adria nodded, and resolved to keep an eye on Sir Meynard. 
It is odd enough for the Knights to keep a man with an obvious physical deficiency, but then to permit him such a special allowance...?

Still, she at least felt grateful for his immediate presence. Despite what he may lack in chivalry by adopting such a weapon, Sir Meynard would likely prove an asset in battle.

Any advantage is a welcome one now,
Adria thought, as she turned again to watch the enemy ship. 
Unless my intuition and my senses fail, it is a battle we’ll have today.

Shísha did not accompany Preinon when he came down from the rocky hill overlooking Palmill. When Adria asked after her, he only shrugged and smiled. “She said that she will spend the night in prayer for us, and that she will watch the battles from the hill.”

“Battles?” Adria frowned. “You told her that you will advance upon the fort?”

He thought for a moment, then simply shook his head.

Adria could see from his expression that he was not deceiving her in this, and she nodded in return, a sinking in her stomach.

She sees what he does not,
Adria thought.
She watches and waits for the inner and the outer battle, perhaps. Or the one between armies, and the one between us.

Mateko arrived from his watch before the evening meal had ended, breathless and drenched in sweat. He signed to them first, before his words were strong enough to elaborate.

“Many enemies leave their fort,
” he said. “
They move against the camp.
”

“
They attack us here?
” Preinon said in disbelief.

Mateko shook his head as he found his breath. “
They know we are here, but they ride west along the foothills, to the forestry camps. There is nowhere else they can go but to attack the
Watemicha Teleniya.”

I almost knew this,
Adria realized, even as Preinon frowned, nodding, and said, “
This is not a surprise. I was preparing to announce that we are going to attack the nearby village of the Others. The enemy would trade their village for the
Watemicha Teleniya camp. 
It is a bold move. When did they leave?
”

“Half between noon and sunset.
”

“
Then there is time,
” Preinon nodded. “
Gather everyone here who is not on far watch, Runners and Hunters alike.
”

He nodded, but before he could leave, Preinon grabbed him loosely by the arm. “
Wait... Just bring the Runners together now. I would speak with them before the Hunters.”

Adria watched Preinon for any sign of his intentions, but he revealed nothing. He met her eyes for a moment as they finished their food and washed their hands and waited for the Runners to gather.

It did not take long. Most of them were already present, and Mateko knew well how to find the others quickly. The others discussed the news while they wandered in one at a time, but Preinon remained silent and thoughtful. Adria, also dreading what might easily become a confrontation, merely sat and listened to the tenor of the others.

Please,
she prayed. 
Let Mateko return with Sh
í
sha as well...

But when Mateko finally returned from the direction of the hill, he walked alone. Adria met his eyes with a questioning look, and he only frowned and gave a slow shake of his head. She smiled grimly as she motioned for him to sit beside her.

“
I would speak my turn,
” Preinon began formally, standing. “
Most of you know some of what is happening, and know that we must act quickly. I had planned to attack the nearby Others’ village in the morning at first light, but now this must change. The Enemy rides against the
Watemicha Teleniya, so our hunt must be swift.”

He paused, and Adria breathed a sigh of relief, as did some of the others. There was mumbling, as well, but Preinon did not sit down, so no one else yet spoke aloud.

“
The Runners will move now, straight to the
Watemicha Teleniya camp.
You will help them to break camp and move south along the foothills.
”

He breaks the decorum,
Adria realized, exchanging a glance with Mateko. Preinon had paused again, and this time there was more than mumbling. 
He refers to the Runners as “you,”
 and then he gives them an order?

Glances were exchanged, and then Kseku spoke, “Why do we skirt the mountains? They will not find us if we move in the forest.”

Watelomoksho nodded. “
I will lead the Hunters against the village tonight. The Enemy will not be able to protect them while they follow you and the
Watemicha Teleniya.”

As unaccustomed as they still were to the concept of outright attack, they were slow to understand his purpose. Adria might have explained better, but she feared putting herself between her uncle and the Runners.

Foolish,
she chastised herself at her fear. You are already between them. Even as
Shí
sha stands above and beyond us, I stand between, walking two webs...

Order was breaking down, now, and Adria saw for the first time just how much esteem Preinon had lost among them. She felt the urge, the need to rise and speak, on his behalf, on their behalf, to play the part Shísha should have. 
What did she say to him upon the hill? Why did he not listen?

“It is his gambit,” she whispered to herself instead, her face hot with the anxiety. “He offers the camp as bait, even the Runners. If the Knights follow them along the foothills, they cannot return in time to save Palmill. But if the Teleniya are not swift enough…”

“
What do you say?
” Mateko asked, leaning in close beside her. 
The scent of his skin and sweat...

She only frowned and shook her head apologetically. She could not say these things to him. She felt traitorous enough already. No matter who she defended, it would be a betrayal.

And is silence any different. Am I only... afraid to defy my uncle, my teacher?

By now, many were arguing heatedly — some for the plan, many against it, but few in true sympathy for Preinon, and none with full understanding of his motivation. Preinon still stood, but did not speak, letting the others debate for him.

“
We must not risk women and children
,” Wanawi was saying.

Ménezo, “
Let us teach the Others what it means to be hunted.
”

“
They have no honor and no memory,
” Chasebatu said.
“
They forget their ancestors. They do not hear the wind in the trees. They will learn nothing.
”

Adria shook her head slowly as the scene unfolded, and both her love and fear for Preinon and for the Runners grew stronger, paired intimations of betrayal matching each other thought for thought, word for word, until they finally erupted out of the silence.

“
I speak my turn,
” she said, almost shouting, and only realized she was standing as she heard her own voice.

The silence rippled out among the rest of the Runners as they quieted and turned, giving her at least a measure of the respect which her uncle had lost. Adria could feel her face flushing, and she could not meet her uncle’s eyes at first, or those of anyone. She stared over their heads, and tried to keep her hands from shaking.

And then Mateko reached up beside her and took her hand in his, giving it a slight squeeze to strengthen her. It was enough. She swallowed, took a long breath, and spoke.

“
It is true,
” she said, hoarsely but with more strength. “
There is little time, and this is the plan before us. Will we speak all night or will we run?
”

It was risky to ask a question, and she paused a bit too long worrying about it, and the question she did not want came from among them.

“
Pukshonisla, do you believe this plan is a good plan?
” It was Chasebatu.

It seemed too simple a question, but she could not simply answer it.

Why do I hesitate? 
She asked, then answered,
Because you would not leave them to save them. Mine is still a mind divided, and the Other cries much louder than the Runner.

“
It... is new
,” she said truthfully. “
It will show the enemy that we can change. It will show them that we can do something besides retreat
.”

It did not answer the question, but it was the simplest truth which did not betray them or Preinon. But she had to continue. “
We will aid the
Watemicha Teleniya.
No one doubts that this is the right thing. If we are to lead them along the foothills, it is so that we may gain time for the Hunters to hunt. The plan is not without risk. But what we do not risk, we do not deserve to keep.
”

She paused again, and might have sat down, but there was doubt still. 
They understand the plan, but not the reason. It would be easier to let them ask, to let him answer.

Still she hovered in indecision, half hoping one among them would break decorum and ask, but knowing now that they would not. She took a breath. “
You know that the Others’ village is near, and that the camp is far. You know that the Enemy cannot make it to the village if they go to the camp. This is true, and this is where your doubt lies.
”

There were nods and words of approval, “
It is true.
”

She nodded with them.

“
I speak my turn,
” Preinon interrupted, still standing. “
Sit down, Lozheskisiyama. I will finish my own tale.
”

Again, the breach of decorum sent a ripple of discontent through the gathering. Her face reddening even more, Adria nearly collapsed. 
After all this,
 she wondered. 
He would save me the choice? Does he fear I will not choose his shackles again?

Mateko, still holding her hand, took it onto his lap as she sat, and held it tight.

“
The Others’ village of 
Palmill 
is only the beginning. If the Enemy can be led from their fort for long enough, it too will be vulnerable. The Hunters will be able to camp there, and to defend it from the Enemy when they return. That is why you travel the foothills and not the forests, until the very last moment. Do you understand?
”

“
You would steal their home?
” Ektito asked, abandoning the odd construction for “fort” that Preinon used.

They do not really have a word for 
fort
, or for 
war
, or for 
gambit or sacrifice
,
Adria sighed. 
Of course they will not understand, despite all that has happened to them. They are Runners, and have seen more of the Aeman than any Aesidhe cares to. But in the end, they are Hunters of the people... there are no words for war, as there is no good name for an army of Hunters.

Preinon nodded. “
The Hunters can move more swiftly along their roads. From that Enemy place, we can attack other places. We can begin to turn them away from the People. And then they will remember. They will remember us, and they will remember this night.
”

Though they could not fully intuit the scope of his plan, they at least now understood their part within it, and there were more than a few nods of resignation and acceptance. It was Chasebatu who rose his voice above the others to say, “Pukshonisla,
you have fought as a Hunter and Run with us. You have beads of Holiness and of Blood. Will you stand with the Hunters to fight the Others, or will you run from the Enemy with us?
”

She felt Mateko’s hand tense within hers as the Runners grew silent again. She glanced to Preinon, whose face held no expression, and then took up her pack from beside her and shouldered it as she rose.

I am sorry, Uncle...
 she thought. 
I am sorry, Sh
í
sha... I am no Healer. I fail you both, for I cannot teach what I have not learned.

Aloud, she said, “
Tonight I run, so that Hunters may hunt what they will.
”

Adria’s action catalyzed the Runners in the end. They broke camp and were in motion in less time than it had taken to debate, leaving only Preinon’s tent beside the fire, alone and at a distance. She tried to avoid his eyes as she rolled and tied the hides onto her pack.

“
Not so long ago, the weight of it would have toppled you,
” Preinon smiled. “Your pack, I mean.”

She glanced at him twice as she adjusted the straps upon her chest for better comfort. “Are we speaking still?” she returned his smile.

He chuckled and sighed. “We are a stubborn pair, you and I.”

“I’m not. You certainly are. Stubborn and full of pride,” she teased. Somehow, much of the anxiety between them had lifted, and it was a moment before she realized why. “But... at least I’ve chosen a path.”

“And where does it lead?” he wondered.

“Though I do not stand with the Hunters, I fear it is still a Path of Thorns,” she sighed. “Both our paths are, surely. Right or wrong, I decided to be a Runner. Now we don’t have to worry what I will decide. I may be afraid to lead, but at least I am no longer afraid to not lead.”

He chuckled a bit more. “There are few rights and wrongs in this world that I can see, Púksha. But I agree... the fear of deciding is often worse than the consequences.”

A mind divided... 
she nodded, hoping his words were true, realizing they risked more now than they had before... and suspecting that it would not be as easy as either of them had said or thought.

He embraced her. “
Run in a circle,
Mélitali.”

She imagined any number of things in that moment, and all of them dark... the Knights overcoming the Runners. Adria rushing to save a young girl in the camp, only to find herself overcome. Preinon leading his Hunters bravely against the enemy, only to fall himself to a lucky spear or arrow. Her own father standing above her uncle’s body, his sword covered in blood, his violet and black cloak and plume flowing amidst the fog.

She wanted to say something wise to him, the perfect farewell adage, in Aeman or Aesidhe or anything, but when she looked up at his face, all she could do was name him.