Lakhoni (20 page)

Lakhoni
gathered his bag and the packet of his things that Neas had collected. His
dagger, his tattered cloak. He couldn’t find the extra tunic he had brought
with him from the Separated. And his bow was gone, probably claimed by a
villager by now.

Time
to go. He hoped that whatever Simra had said or done to get the guard away from
the door had been good and that the man was still gone.

He
crept to the door and peered through the cracks surrounding the tough wooden
planks. The flickering fire had died down now to glowing embers and he saw no
movement anywhere in the village. Doors were closed.

Easing
the door open, but knowing he needed to move with confidence, he stepped out of
the healing hut with a firm stride, searching for movement in all directions.
Nothing. He slipped around the side of the hut and melted into the shadows
behind it, wishing there were trees nearby. He would have to get some distance
from the hut and then turn north to find the two twisted trees.

Would
she still be waiting?

He
stood motionless in the shadow of the hut, taking stock of his surroundings and
trying to come up with a plan. Despite his fear of having Simra join him and be
put in danger in Zyronilxa, he wanted her to come. He wanted her to be waiting
with supplies packed, ready to travel with him.

He
didn’t want to leave her behind.

Glancing
around again and seeing nobody, he darted out of the shadow of the hut,
grateful that the moon was waning and that there was little light to illuminate
his movements. His shoulders tensed, he hunkered down and ran in a curving
direction to the beginning of the woods that lay fifty paces from the northwest
edge of the village.

He
slipped among the trunks, trying to remember the training he had received at
the hands of the Separated.

“This
Dance you speak of,” Gimno had said. “This Dance with the Forest you say your
brother taught you. This is a beginning.” Gimno moved smoothly backward, the
bright sun emerging from behind his head. “Your senses are greater than you
think. You must allow them to move your body and remove your thoughts from the
matter.”

The
tall man took a long, slow breath. Lakhoni saw all tension leave his body.

Then
Gimno moved, faster than anyone Lakhoni had ever seen. But it wasn’t an
explosion of movement. It was as if Gimno somehow moved without thought and
with total grace. Instead of leaping between trees, he flowed, his body
completely free of tension and concern.

Gimno
came down from his first leap onto the balls of his feet, his knees bent and
arms out. He made a peculiar movement with his arms as he came down. As Lakhoni
watched him leap again, he understood. That smooth flap somehow eased the
impact of his feet on the ground, making him completely quiet.

Now,
joining the sentinels of the woods outside Simra’s village, Lakhoni tried to do
the same. He felt his feet firmly on the ground, his energy smoothly flowing in
a two-way stream with the earth beneath him. Centered, he began jogging slowly
through the trees, letting his senses quest out in this new Dance with the
Forest. At first, the intermittent shadows cast by the weak light of the stars
and moon threw him off. But as he moved east and north, seeking the twisted
trees and Simra, the jumble of trees sorted itself into a pattern.

He
grabbed a branch, whose buds he could just barely make out, and swung himself
over a small bush. As he made his way toward the meeting with Simra, he pulled his
thoughts together, knowing he had to have a plan for how to deal with her if
she stood ready to join him. And he had to know how he was going to be able to
leave her behind.

A
noise, behind him and to his right. From the village. A man’s shout. His absence
had been discovered.

Dogs
barked. More shouting came.

Lakhoni
ran faster, flowing through the forest. Movement caught his eye. He stopped and
crouched, seeking the movement again.

Twenty
paces away, a little to his right, stood a short, thick tree. One of its
branches curved up and then down, nearly touching the ground. Not one tree,
two. Probing the darkness around the tree with his eyes, he saw the source of
the movement.

Simra
paced just to the north of the tree.

Lakhoni
crept closer, his communion with the forest broken by his worry over what he
would do. He couldn’t allow her to come. He wanted to be with her. He didn’t
want to leave her and be without her.

He
tried to empty his mind and start again, trying to think clearly and logically.
She can’t come. I can’t let her get hurt. It’s that simple.

He
circled somewhat north, wanting to see what supplies Simra had brought. If he
could see whether she had brought only enough for him, or enough for two, he
could go into the meeting prepared to make sure she realized it was too
dangerous for her join him.

As
he circled, he could see her better. He felt a branch under his foot and
adjusted his weight, moving his foot so he would not break the branch.

Her
voice came softly through the woods, more a worried outburst than
encouragement. “Hurry, Lakhoni!”

He
made to step out of the cover of the trees to meet Simra, but then he saw the
two bulging bags at her feet. She wanted to go with him. But she couldn’t join
his quest for vengeance. It was easier and better to just go now. She would
eventually realize that he had gone. Maybe she would understand why.

The
voices from the village had spread out into the woods. Some were closer. He had
to decide.

Would
she get in trouble with her village? Probably. Whatever she had done to move
the guard from his door would almost certainly implicate her. And if she was
found in the woods with all of those supplies, it would be clear that she had
helped him.

She
would avoid all of that if she came with him.

But
she would stay safer if he left her to the protection of her village.

He
turned to leave, pausing for a moment to try to see her face in the weak light
of the stars and waning moon. He wished he could send his thoughts to her, tell
her how he felt and why he was doing this. A pale glow reflected off her cheek.
Leaving her like this, with no goodbye or explanation pulled at him—it was a
betrayal. Of her and his own heart, which was stuck in his throat.

I
have no choice.

He
clenched his fists, fear for Simra vying with a need to take her in his arms
one last time. He wondered again why the First Fathers would lead him to a
place like this while he was on a quest to rescue his sister and mete out
justice. Air squeezing through a tight throat, he turned away. He wanted to
shout his frustration at the sky, wanted to take his dagger and cut through all
of the complications. He wanted to be with her.

Lakhoni
shook his head at himself. No. He would come back. This was a new part of his
plan. Before, he had thought to give his life in trade for justice upon the
king. But now . . . no. He would rescue Alronna, then find a way
to deal with the king without dying at the same time.

He
melted into the woods, glancing over his shoulder every few moments to try to
catch another glimpse of Simra. But it was too dark. He would come back.

He
would find Alronna, bring her with him, and he would be with Simra again.

A
shout broke through the branches and his thoughts. This one was much closer.

Lakhoni
broke into a run, pushing his thoughts away and embracing the purity of the
Dance with the Forest.

Loud
voices came from the village; it sounded like they were coordinating a search.
Simra peered through the trees between where she stood and the village.

Mibli’s
voice, high-pitched and angry, pierced the night. “Find him! And find that
girl!”

What
was
wrong
with that man? Simra wanted to scream back at the awful man
and defy his horrible accusations. Who did he think he was?

She
searched the forest around her without moving away from the tree. Where was
Lakhoni? He’d had plenty of time to find her by now. Had he gotten lost?

She
tried to remember the directions she had given him. She’d said the twisted
trees were north of the village, right? He couldn’t be lost; he had found her tiny
village after traveling what must have been a hundred miles through the
desolate winter.

He
should have been here by now.

A
terrible thought occurred to her. Had Lakhoni left already? She ran over the
events of the last few weeks in her mind. Lakhoni hadn’t . . .
he hadn’t used her to escape, had he? Her eyes darting in every direction,
Simra whispered his name.

He
wouldn’t have used her like that. He wouldn’t have lied to her, acted like he
had those feelings. Indecision filled her. The voices were getting closer; they
would find her within minutes.

What
do I do?
She
glanced down at the bags which leaned against the twisted trees. Another
thought came to her as she considered her options. Had Lakhoni known that she
had planned to go with him? How could he? He wouldn’t just abandon her here if
he did. He wouldn’t.

But
he had.

Fierce
anger filled her. She was instantly certain that she had figured out what had
happened. Lakhoni had thought to make her decision for her, probably to protect
her or something similar.
When will they get it?

She
didn’t have time to try to find Lakhoni and point out to the silly boy that it
was
her
decision, not his. Simra snatched up the bags she had packed,
slinging one over each shoulder. She had to figure out a plan, a story to tell.

For
whose benefit? Who did she have to assure that she wasn’t a simple-minded girl
following after an interesting stranger? Mibli. The other men of the village.
Her father needed no convincing; she knew that he trusted her, that he knew her
better.

A
rush of anger, grief, and frustration filled her. Then loneliness. The weeks
with Lakhoni shone warmly in her mind.

She
set the bags back down on the dark ground, finding a halfway comfortable place
to sit on the gnarled trunks. She watched the darkness for movement. Not for
the first time, she wondered how much different life would have been if her
mother had not died in childbirth  . . . Neither her mother
nor the baby had survived.

She
shook the memories away and composed herself.
Any moment now.

Simra
needed no story.

Someone
was pushing through the shadows, the pale light of the stars illuminating his
chest and face intermittently. She tried to figure out who it was before he
could emerge from the trees, but there wasn’t enough light.

Simra
waved. “Hello. Looking for me?”

This
would work. She would buy time for Lakhoni.

The
young warrior, Asaph, stepped between two trees and stopped. Even in the weak
light of the stars, she saw surprise on his face. He opened his mouth, but
Simra raised a hand and cut him off.

“No,
please. Allow me.” She tilted her face up and cupped her hands around her
mouth. “Asaph has found me! I’m over here!” Her shout bounced off the trees,
filtering between the branches clustered with early spring buds. Within a few
minutes, eight men crowded around her as she perched on the bench of gnarled
tree trunks. She kept her silence.

Finally,
Mibli pushed through the small throng of men, breathing heavily. He stood for a
moment, fixing her with a glare that she supposed was meant to be threatening.

“You
helped the spy escape, admit it.”

Nervousness
threatened to push her to speak, but Simra fought it back, keeping her
composure.

“Asam
told me how you drew him away from the door,” Mibli said with a sneer.

If
nothing else, Simra thought, Mibli knew how to get to her. Blood and heat rose
in her neck and to her face. She wasn’t proud of what she had said to Asam, the
looks she had given him. Fighting to keep her voice even, she met Mibli’s
stare. “Lakhoni is no Usurper. And you should train your warriors better. Asam
is no more appealing than his twin, Asaph. If he believed that I would really
want him that way, it’s a reflection on his trainer and teacher, I would
think.”

Mibli
took a fast step forward, raising his hand. “You watch how you speak to me.”

She
stood fast, not wanting to have him looming over her. “Or what? You’ll hit me?”
She would show this bully no fear. She had to make him believe she wasn’t
scared of him.

“It’s
not your place, girl. You forget the way of things,” Mibli said.

No,
I don’t forget. And I don’t accept it either.

“Where
is the spy?”

Simra
spoke slowly. “What spy?”

Mibli
stepped closer, his sweaty face in hers. His breath smelled of the fermented apple
concoction that was so popular amongst the warriors. “I’m not stupid. I know
you helped him. Where is he?”

She
wiped his spittle from her face, cringing at the unpleasant sensation of his
closeness. “You must be talking about Lakhoni. I don’t know where he is.”

Good.
She hadn’t lied yet.

All
she had to do was delay the men as long as she could. The longer she could keep
them off of Lakhoni’s trail, the better chance he had of getting away.

“Mibli!”
the voice came from behind her. Asam, the guard she had drawn away from the
healing hut’s door, had apparently not stopped searching.

The
only one with brains
.

“She’s
got two big bags here,” Asam said.

“What’s
in them?” Mibli asked, shoving Simra aside and stepping closer to Asam.

Simra
tried to keep her frustration from appearing on her face. She sighed quietly
and turned to look at where Asam crouched over the bags. He pulled things out,
groping them and then tossing them aside.

Simra
stood in place and watched, knowing her game was nearly over.

“She’s
got food, looks like a cooking pot and stuff. Some clothes,” Asam said.

“You
were going to meet him!” Mibli’s voice cracked. “You were bringing these things
along!”

She
thought fast. She had to give Lakhoni more time. She surveyed the gathered
warriors. Now that Asam had found her bags, the warriors milled around in
varying postures of attention. Mibli had them so cowed that they couldn’t think
to continue searching while he interrogated her. She tried hard to keep her
laughter inside.

“That’s
right.” She faced Mibli. “He’s due any minute.”

Mibli
glanced around. Catching himself, he glared at Simra. “You think I’m stupid.”
He sneered, but it looked more like childish truculence than anything else. “So
what did he tell you, girl? That he loved you?”

“I
know all I need to know,” Simra said.
First Fathers give me patience!

“You
saw how he lied!” Mibli said. “He was playing with you the whole time.” He
stopped, perched on the balls of his feet, his head cocked as if he were listening
to something faint. After a moment like this, he suddenly growled, flinging his
arms wide and shouting at the gathered warriors. “Go! The spy is still out
there! We have to capture him to keep ourselves safe!”

Within
seconds, all of the men had departed but for Mibli. She could not see his face
well, but she felt his anger. Sudden fear hit her in the stomach. She was alone
with him now.

“You
think that was funny, don’t you?” His voice was a strangely high pitched growl.

A
resounding shout came from the village.
Father
. She grabbed the bags
that Asam had pawed through, gathering the things he had dropped to the ground.

“Don’t
ignore me!” Mibli said.

“I’m
not ignoring you,” Simra said. “But it’s past my bedtime and I’m tired. You
wouldn’t have me leave these things here, would you?”

“I
know what you were trying to do! You were trying to keep us here while your
lover ran away!”

She
heard another shout from Neas. He was calling her name. Simra wanted to call
for her father to tell her where she was. The fear in her stomach was now a
knot, clenching tightly. She had to show no fear to Mibli, or he would always
think he could have his way around her.

“We’ll
find him,” Mibli said as he loomed over her. “And when he confesses, he’ll tell
us everything! And everyone in the village will know what you really are.”

She
tried to bite back her retort, but failed. “And what exactly am I?” She stood,
a tightly packed bag in each hand. If he tried anything, she could use the bags
as weapons. The thought that she needed to be crouching in order for Mibli to
be able to loom over her helped her ease some of the tension in her gut.

But
she didn’t wait for his response, choosing instead to head back toward the
village. She stepped around him and started walking. She fought the urge to
look over her shoulder to assure herself that Mibli wasn’t sneaking after her.

“You
know what you are,” Mibli said. “You spent all that time in there with the spy.
The whole village knows how you must have thrown yourself at him.”

The
words stung, especially given what had happened before Lakhoni left. But she
wasn’t some kind of wanton girl who fell for just anybody.
Lakhoni is not
just anybody, even if he’s stupid for leaving me here.

“You
think you won!”

She
kept walking, ignoring his taunts.

“Just
watch! My men will catch that spy and teach him a lesson. Then he’ll find
justice in the brick fields!”

The
yelling stopped. She glanced over her shoulder. Mibli was disappearing into the
trees, obviously joining his warriors in their search. She let out a breath
that she’d been holding for the last ten or so paces, relaxing her shoulders.

“And
you’ll get what’s coming to you, too!” Mibli’s voice carried through the trees.

Simra
spun, the heavy bags banging her legs. She couldn’t see Mibli, but his voice
was plenty loud.

“Your
life is over, too. You helped the Usurper spy escape! Not even your father can
protect you this time!”

She
tried to say something to shut the man up. He wasn’t as stupid as she sometimes
let herself believe, and he spoke the truth. She could think of nothing, so she
turned back on her path, calling out to her father, whose voice was getting
louder. Neas must have heard Mibli’s shouts, for she could hear his heavy
thumping through the trees. “Father!” she called. “I’m coming. It’s okay.”

But
as she walked closer to her father, and nearer to her village, she realized
that it wasn’t okay. Her life might not be literally over, but Mibli was right
that she would be judged by the village for her actions this evening.

She
wouldn’t be sent to the brick fields, but everything would change.

Life
wasn’t going to be the same anyway, with Lakhoni gone.
Lakhoni had been headed for
the city of Zyron. She had planned to go with him to avoid all of this mess.

As
Neas came into view, Simra made her decision.
She would prepare
carefully and go to Zyronilxa too, trusting in the First Fathers to guide her
to Lakhoni.

“I’m
here, Father,” she said loudly. Softer, she spoke again as the bags of supplies
bumped into tree trunks and bounced against her legs. “But not for long. I
can’t stay here anymore.”