A Warrior's Path (The Castes and the OutCastes) (40 page)

“Rukh shook his head.  “I’ve learned enough,” he said. “No need to disgrace myself any further.”

His words stung, and she flinched.  If he thought he was disgraced, all because he had stayed alive through the mastery of Blending, what then did he think of her?  Sometimes, she forgot who they were, he a Pureblood and she an OutCaste, but then he would say something casually cruel and it would all come back to her.  He would remind her of his true feelings: first and foremost, he thought of Jessira as a ghrina, an abomination.

“I’m sorry,” Rukh said.  “That didn’t come out right.  I didn’t mean to imply anything about you.  You’re who you are,” Rukh said.

Jessira almost turned to face him, surprised he had guessed what she was thinking.  The immodesty of having her jacket, shirt, and camisole draped around her waist kept her frozen in place.  “And who am I to you?”

“
We have saying in Ashoka: in a Trial, all men are brothers,” Rukh answered enigmatically.

His meaning was obtuse, and
Jessira didn’t know how to reply.  First he insulted her, then he apologized – sounding sincere in the process, and now – was he paying her a compliment?  Did he imply she was a sister to him?  Jessira couldn’t tell.

Without thinking, J
essira turned her head, meaning to ask him.  Instead, her entire torso moved.  It wasn’t much, just enough to expose a portion of her breast before she quickly moved to cover herself.

Rukh flushed.

Jessira wanted to smack her head for not seeing it sooner.  Here they were, all alone in the Wildness: a man and a woman.

The flush on his face gave him away.

Jessira smirked.

Now the truth came
out. In a Trial, all men are brothers.  What a load of Balant shit.  He didn’t think of her as a sister.  Injured, bloody and filthy as she was, ghrina or not, she was merely a woman he’d like to bed. She shook her head in disgust. What a hypocrite.

He stepped away from her, a look of anger on his face.  “You think I’m only
helping you so I can get you undressed, don’t you?”

“
A man has his desires,” she said, “and I saw your face.”

He
ground his teeth, looking like he was trying to rein in his impatience.  “I’m keeping you alive because I need your help,” he said. “The Castes have to change if we want to have any hope of riding out the coming storm.  The Baels say Suwraith can rid Herself of Her madness.  Maybe they’re right and maybe they’re wrong, but if
they
are
telling the truth, She’ll come for Ashoka, and this time She’ll know what to do.  We’ll be sheep before the wolf.”

Jessira snorted.  Right.  His words were pretty and noble
.  They might even be genuine, but she didn’t believe him, at least not entirely.  Rukh wanted what all men ultimately wanted.

“And how exactly am I supposed to help you with this miraculous redemption of
your Pureblooded hearts?” she asked.

“By just being you.  You’ve got this way about
you, of never backing down, of never apologizing for who and what you are.  We need this challenge.  We can’t keep going on like we have.  We have to change.  I think we’ve needed this since the Night of Sorrows.”

“As soon as I step foot into Ashoka, your people will lynch me and forget I ever existed.”

“I don’t think so,” Rukh said.  “Some might even understand and agree with me.”

“Agree with what?  Allowing ghrina
s to live?”  She laughed.  “You’re dreaming.  People don’t change that quickly.  And besides, none of this matters.  You haven’t answered my question,” she said.  “I saw the look on your face.  Don’t pretend you’re saving me because of some notion of noble self-sacrifice.”

“
Stop being so self-centered,” he snapped.  “What you saw wasn’t lust…it was embarrassment. I’m not as coarse as you think I am.  I would never take advantage of a woman in your situation.  It’s disgusting.  And as for my ‘
noble self-sacrifice’
, that is exactly what it means to be a Kumma.  It is who we are.”  He stood suddenly, and she could see the anger in his posture as he marched away from her.  “Times burning.  Let’s go,” he shouted over his shoulder.

Hours later, with only
an unhappy silence to mark the miles of their passage, Jessira knew she had to be the one to make amends.

“I’m sorry,” she said
, hating how often she seemed to have to apologize to this Kumma.

“For what?” Rukh asked, his voice curt.

She sighed.  He wasn’t going to make this easy on her.

“For thinking the worst of you.”

“You know, I’ve saved your life over and over again.  I’ve kept you alive, cared for you, and in all this time, I’ve never complained about it.  The only thing I ask in return is a little gratitude and respect.”  He was still obviously angry.

“You’re right,” she said, suddenly feeling the weight of her guilt.  He had done all those things for her, and she had given him nothing but suspicion and sharp words.  “I haven’t treated you very well.  I’m sorry.”
 

He grunted in response, not sounding mollified in the least.

She paused, trying to find the right words.  “It’s not easy for me to trust someone like you.”

“
A Kumma, you mean,” Rukh said.  He stopped, turning to face her.  “You may not believe this, but I understand how you feel.  It can’t get much worse than having to rely on a Pureblood for your safety.”

His insight surprised her.  Once more,
Rukh had taken the time to think things through from her perspective.  He even sympathized with what she was feeling.  She might have misjudged him all along.  And if she had, could she also be wrong about others like him? Other Purebloods?  She didn’t think so, but the certainty she had once felt was no longer there.

“I still think your people will toss me out as soon as they se
e my face.  I bet you think the same thing,” she said.  “So why do you bother?  All I’m doing is slowing you down and keeping you from warning your city.”

Rukh s
hrugged.  “I’m Kumma.  I told you: it’s what’s we do,” he said flashing her a grin of self-deprecation.

Jessira smiled back, her first true smile since that awful night in the Flats.  “Then you are a credit to your Caste,” she said, her voice only slightly mocking.

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” he said, frowning so severely that Jessira burst out in laughter.

*****

J
essira stumbled, and Rukh reached for her, keeping her from falling.

“Let’s take a break,” he suggested.

Wordlessly, Jessira lowered herself to the ground, too tired to talk.

Rukh dropped next to her, feeling the weariness of three weeks of marching on low rations and minimal sleep.  Every night after they made camp, Rukh took the longest stretch of the watch.  Jessira needed the rest.  Her injuries weren’t healing, and the pinkness along the edges of some of her wounds were starting to turn red.  Rukh was worried infection was setting in.  It was already starting to affect her balance, and she lean
ed heavily on Rukh as they made their slow way through the Hunters Flats.

And Jessira was not a small woman.  She was as tall as Rukh’s sister or any Kumma woman for that matter, but built with the lean, well-muscled frame of a warrior.  It wasn’t easy holding her up
at the end of a long day of marching.  At times, Rukh almost wished Li-Choke had stayed with them to help with the burden of carrying her.

The one blessing was that they hadn’t run into any more Chims, but Rukh still worried.  He could take Braids and Ur-Fels, but in his current state, any force of Tigons
– certainly a claw with its five to seven cats – would probably overwhelm him.  And coming upon a Shylow along the northern outskirts of the Flats would be a disaster.  His
Jivatma
was thin and had been from the beginning of their long march.  Along with the gauntness to his face and the weight he had lost, it was yet another reflection of his weariness, and it wouldn’t get better any time soon.  He couldn’t afford to take a break in order to rest and recover.  Not now.  Jessira had grown too weak to Blend for herself anymore.  As a result, it now fell to Rukh to take on that additional task as well.

He placed the back of his hand against her forehead.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Rukh didn’t think so, but he kept quiet.  Jessira’s voice was no longer strong and confident like it had been when they had first met, but there was no reason to state the obvious.  “Let’s clean the wounds,” he suggested.

“Want another look at the twins, huh?” she said with a chuckle.

“My lust knows no bounds,” he said smiling back.

After he finished, she sighed, and leaned back against him with her eyes closed.  “Why won’t you talk about your friends?” she asked.

He didn’t answer at first.  He couldn’t.  Reminiscing about Keemo and Brand was too painful.  “If I talk about them, then I remember them, and if I remember them, I’ll miss them, and if I miss them…I’ll break down, and I can’t afford that right now. 
We
can’t.  I’ll mourn their deaths when we get home.”

“Your home.  Not mine,
” Jessira reminded him in a soft, wistful tone.  But her voice was without the bitterness and anger she had once so commonly expressed.

“Yes.  My home,” he said, acknowledging her correction.

“You know, those first few days after the attack, I thought you were the coldest man I ever met.  You reminded me of people I knew…you know, men whose only goal is the next battle.”

Rukh g
ave her a half-hearted smile of bemusement.  He knew the kind of person Jessira was talking about.  Had she really thought of him like that?  “I hope you don’t feel the same way anymore,” he said.

She chuckled.  “Well, you’ve grown on me,” she said with a shrug.  “I th
ink you’ll turn out alright.  For a Pureblood, you’re not half bad.”

He laughed with her. 
“And for an OutCaste, you’re only half abominable.”

She protested in mock outrage, punching him lightly on the shoulder even as she laughed.  “You deserve that,” she said.

Rukh laughed with her.  The punch hadn’t hurt, but once she was fit and healthy again, he imagined she could do some damage.

“Are you ready?” he asked.  “There’s still about three hours of daylight.”

With a groan, Jessira stood.  “I’m ready.”

*****

A
few days later, they finally passed from the northern edges of the Flats and were into the southeastern foothills of the Privation Mountains.  The grasslands had given way to forest, making it a much harder slog as they forced their way up and down steep hills and through wooded valleys.  For every mile as the eagle flew, they had to cover four on the ground.  It made for frustratingly slow progress, and to make matters worse, Jessira wasn’t getting any better.  An infection
had
settled into her shoulder, further weakening her.

Today, they had to stop early.  Jessira had collapsed.

Rukh set up camp on a small field of grass next to a narrow stream.  The air was cool from the late day shower, and the smell of moss and wet leaves from the undergrowth filled the air.  Lightning bugs flitted through the warm early summer evening while chirping crickets and croaking frogs competed to be heard over the sound of water burbling over rocks.

Once he had a fire started, Rukh made Jessira as comfortable as he could. 
He tucked her under the few blankets they had managed to scavenge, but sometimes she still shivered uncontrollably.  They were a little less than a week short of Ashoka, and beyond where Shylows were known to hunt.  This close to the city jaguars and bears might still be a danger, but the smart ones had learned to steer clear of campfires.  The stupid ones were dead, but even if one of them showed up, Rukh knew he could handle it.

What he couldn’t handle was Jessira’
s infection.  Pus seeped from the wounds, and she burned hot with fever.  At other times, her skin was cold and clammy.  Her breathing had also changed, coming in short gasps as if she had been running for miles.  She even smelled sick, a mixture of stale sweat, dirt, and old blood, but underneath it all was a sharp, bitter almond-like smell.

He slipped her out of her jacket and shirt, leaving her in her camisole.  He didn’t know what else to do with her alternating fever and coldness.  He also hadn’t been able to wake her up for dinner, and with a sinking feeling, he realized she might not live through the night.

Rukh had hoped to be in Ashoka by now, where a Shiyen physician could have Healed her.  And if the wounds hadn’t slowed them down so much, they might have actually made it.  As it was, they were still a good four or five days from Ashoka, which was too far for Jessira.  Several days ago, he’d even tried his hand at Healing.  Jessira had done her best to teach him, but it hadn’t worked out.  He had even tried to form a Duo with her.  After all, Rukh had learned to Blend while Annexed with Brand in a Quad, but once more they had met with failure.