Beyond the Prophecy (11 page)

“The Lie didn’t used to bother you this much,” Father said.

“That was before you made me a part of it. Before Montibeus
abused Theklan’s trust and almost burned out his Talent trying to preserve the
Lie.” Vatar tried to bite back the next words, but they spilled out anyway.
“The more desperately the Fasallon attempt to cling to their power, the more
swiftly it will slip through their fingers.”

Father looked sharply at Vatar. “Was that a Fore Seeing?”

Vatar looked away and shrugged. He hated when that happened.
“It felt true.”

Father nodded and let the subject drop. If it had been Fore
Sight, neither Vatar nor Father could drag any more out of it than what came in
its own time. “So, in your best assessment, what is the goal of these Exiles?”

Vatar’s eyes narrowed in thought. “If it was only the
Themyri, I’d say they wanted to take back their former territory in the Land
between the Rivers. But . . .” He paused and blew out a breath. “The Themyri
surely know where the territory of the Dardani is. And several of the Exiles
would know that I identified myself as a Dardani. If they’ve gleaned that
information they may be planning an assault on the Dardani for revenge on me.
If not . . .”

“If not,” Thekila picked up the thought, “they’re certainly
looking for someplace more suitable than wherever they came from. I don’t think
either Wartan or Nertan would be satisfied with the kind of settlements I
understand the Themyri lived in. From Quetza’s descriptions, even Tysoe would
seem primitive to them. They’d like Kausalya much better from what I’ve heard
of it. Or Caere, of course.”

Father scowled. “Hmm. We definitely don’t want them reaching
Kausalya. Though an attack might distract Gerusa for a while, in the long term
it would only make our situation here more precarious, whichever side won.
Well, I’ll relay this to the High Council. They may have more questions for you
later. If you’re still willing to answer them.”

Vatar nodded. “I won’t help with the Lie again. But this
impinges on the lives and safety of the Caereans as well as the Dardani. The
Tysoeans and Kausalyans, too. I’ll do what I can to help with that.”

Theklan shivered. Vatar had tried to warn him about winter
on the plains. Well, on the edge of the plains. Danar’s band had moved almost
to the threshold of the Forest, where firewood was always plentiful. That was
good, because winter on the plains was far colder than Theklan had dreamed
possible. Most of the time, it was too cold to go outside more than to scurry
from one hut to another. Theklan could count on his fingers the number of days
it had been warm enough to actually stay outside, even bundled in layers of
wool and furs.

The sound of rain falling outside the hut woke him. Theklan
poked his hand out, just to enjoy the change from snow. He yelped and drew his
hand back in, shaking it. That rain was cold! He shifted slightly, disturbing
the copper-colored dog sleeping beside him. Even the dogs slept inside during
the winter, but he was glad of her warmth right now.

The next morning, Theklan emerged from the hut to find that
the world had been transformed. The rain that had fallen overnight had frozen.
Now that the storm had passed and the sun was out, every branch and blade of
grass sparkled as though it was hung with jewels. It was beautiful, but also
very, very cold. He hurried to bring more wood into the hut and get back into
the warmth himself, wondering how long this weather would last.

~

Theklan bit his lip and squinted in the dim light provided
by the oil lamps. Days, the men and boys spent in the men’s hut, working on
small projects like leatherwork. And telling tall tales to pass the time. Women
spent their days in the women’s hut, spinning wool and weaving cloth. Probably
telling stories, too. Theklan felt his cheeks flush. Well, likely not the same
kind of stories some of the younger men told. Other than the stories, it was
the same, every day.

Good thing Theklan had discovered a talent for leatherwork
and that he actually enjoyed doing it. He liked best working ornamental designs
into the leather. Evenings, when he brought the work into Danar’s hut, he could
even use a tiny thread of his Power to enhance the pattern, smoothing the edges
where the gouge had left them rough and working in finer lines that would be
almost impossible with the leather-working tools. Thekila should be pleased. He
was learning extremely fine control this way.

He held the leather strap away to get a better look at it.
This was meant to be part of a bridle. The ornamentation was nearly done, but a
little dye worked into the grooves would really bring it out. Red, he decided.
It had to be just right. This bridle was meant as a gift.

Ideally, he’d like to use the rich red color he remembered
from the Valley. He didn’t even know how that color was made, though. Or if the
ingredients for the dye were available here. He did know how the Dardani made
the softer, almost pinkish red dye they used. If it didn’t snow
tomorrow—again—maybe he’d be able to get into the Forest to find some of those
berries, rather than wait until the men went back for more firewood. He
wouldn’t need much. He wanted to have the bridle done when Kiara came back.

His eyes flicked to the other side of the small hut—smaller
than the huts the Dardani used the rest of the year in order to preserve
heat—where Kiara usually slept. Only, she hadn’t slept there for five nights,
now. She’d gone to the women’s hut one morning and just not come back. He
missed her. It wasn’t as though she was his
only
friend among the
Dardani. But she was his
best
friend.

And he didn’t really understand why she hadn’t come back.
Other than those cryptic remarks of Lucina’s that he’d overheard, about how
close Kiara and Theklan were getting. Well, of course they were close. They
were best friends. And they lived in the same hut. Which was . . . a little
strange, frankly. Because it was impossible for Theklan to claim he hadn’t
noticed how beautiful Kiara was. Or that he hadn’t had thoughts about her that
weren’t limited to friendship. Lucina had said something about making sure
Kiara understood the consequences. Consequences of what?

Theklan looked down at the leather strap in his hands. It
wasn’t as if this was meant as a courting gift. Of course not.

First, Dardani custom forbade him to offer such a gift until
after his manhood test, which wouldn’t be until midsummer. Second, whatever he
felt for Kiara, the idea of digging a hut for them to live in
together—alone—was just . . . scary. Third, he wouldn’t be able to offer a
courting gift even after he’d passed his manhood test, anyway. He was already
committed to returning to the Valley and the Academy to finish his education.
That’d take two, maybe three years. And by then, beautiful as Kiara was, some
other young man would have . . . Theklan grimaced. Why did that thought feel
like being stabbed in the gut?

~

It snowed the next day. But the day after that was merely
overcast and as warm as it got on the plains at this time of year. Which wasn’t
precisely warm by Theklan’s standards. It was at least bearable to be outside,
though. Better, if you kept moving. It’d feel good to be able to get some
exercise anyway, after days spent inside the huts.

To get to the Forest, he’d have to go through the little
hollow that separated this low hill from the nearest trees. He’d have thought,
being sheltered from the wind, that the dell would be warmer. But that wasn’t
true. All the coldest air seemed to settle into the low space like water
filling a lake. The Dardani didn’t cross it often—not only because it was so
cold. They stayed as far from the Forest as they could, except when they went
just into its eaves to gather firewood—and then the men and older boys all went
together, as if they were going into enemy territory. Even the doors of the sod
huts faced away from the Forest like they thought if they pretended it wasn’t
there it wouldn’t be real. Like Savara hiding her eyes and thinking no one
could see her.

This actually worked to his advantage today. Likely none of
the Dardani would be looking toward the Forest to see him going into the trees
alone. Theklan wasn’t afraid of the Forest, the way the Dardani were. They
thought it was the haunt of Evil Spirits. Well, and Forest Tigers. Theklan had
been through the Forest—all the way through—with Vatar, Thekila, and Quetza.
None of them had seemed concerned about Evil Spirits. Not even Vatar. And
Theklan hadn’t seen any signs of them either.

Forest tigers, now, that was different. They were very real.
Back in the Valley, one of his teachers, Teran, had had the Forest tiger for
his avatar. Theklan shuddered just thinking about it. Nearly twice as big as a
plains lion, with wicked fangs as long as a man’s hand, and nearly impervious
folds of skin across its back and shoulders. He might not be worried about Evil
Spirits, but he definitely didn’t want to meet up with a Forest tiger.

Theklan looked up. There were no eagles flying overhead. It
was questionable what a soaring eagle would be able to see of the forest floor,
anyway. But there was one young eagle perched high up in one of the tallest
trees. That would do. He closed his eyes. This was a trick he’d learned after
finding that lake. It was less disorienting if he didn’t actually have to see
two perspectives—the ground at his feet and simultaneously from a hundred feet
or more up. And, since one of those two views was magical, he didn’t actually
need his eyes open to see it. He checked through the bird’s sharp eyes. Nothing
of note. At least nothing where the bird was looking.

That wasn’t quite comforting enough. There was one other
thing Theklan had found he could do—sometimes. Concentrating hard, he
influenced the eagle to turn its head, giving him a view of a wide swath of the
Forest. No tigers in sight. Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the cold of
the hollow and made for the Forest’s edge.

Theklan moved through the trees, looking for the berries he
needed. Between the Dardani and the birds, the bushes nearest the tree line had
all been picked over a month ago. He went a little deeper, making sure to check
the area ahead through the eagle’s eyes periodically. He didn’t bother to look
for what was behind him.

Ah. There. A bush with a handful or two of berries still on
it, low down where the birds either hadn’t seen them or had felt too unsafe to
eat them. There were smaller predators than the tigers in the forest, too. He
bent down to harvest the berries, careful not to crush them.

“What are you doing?”

Theklan jumped and almost dropped the berries. He spun
around. “Kiara? What are you doing here?” He’d hoped to have the bridle completed
before she came back from her strange exile in the women’s hut.

She shrugged. “Following you, obviously. But what are you
doing here?”

Best probably to tell her the truth—or enough of it. Kiara
was nothing if not persistent. He still wanted to finish the bridle before he
showed it to her, but she didn’t need to know that it was for her—yet. He held
out his hand, showing her the berries. “I needed some of these to dye my latest
leatherwork. I didn’t want to wait until the next time the men come to gather
firewood.”

Kiara nodded. “I’ll help you gather them, then.” She looked
at the few berries left on the bush. “Will these be enough?”

“I hope so. It’s not a large piece. I just want enough to
work into the design and bring it out.”

“Good. Then we have a good chance of getting back before
anyone realizes we’re out here alone.” Kiara walked around to the far side of
the bush. “Oh, there are some more over here.”

Theklan bent to harvest the berries on his side. He shot a
glance in Kiara’s direction. “So, what were you doing in the women’s hut all
this time?”

Kiara shrugged. “Listening to the older women, mostly.”

“About what?”

“Oh, things they think a young woman should know.”

“Oh.” Wait. A young
woman?
Theklan wouldn’t be
counted a man until he passed his manhood test at midsummer. Kiara was five
months younger than he was. If they considered her a woman now, then . . . they
likely weren’t teaching her better weaving techniques or how to dye wool. He
felt heat rising up his neck. “Oh. Uh, that took six days?” He couldn’t help
himself. That question just popped out. Vatar had talked to him about . . .
those things . . . on the way across the plains. But it hadn’t taken nearly
that long to cover more than Theklan wanted to know. Just one uncomfortable
midday stop.

Kiara grimaced. “They made me chew Uza leaf, so I’d know
how.”

Uza leaf? That was what Dardani women used to prevent
pregnancy. Surely Kiara was too young to need that yet. He knew he was.

Kiara went on, not noticing his stunned expression. “Made me
sick both times. So then they wouldn’t let me go until they were sure I really
understood that I have to be more careful than everybody else. One of them was
always between me and the door. Even slept across the door. And always
yammering about the same thing. By yesterday, I was ready to try to dig my way
out. When they finally let me go this morning, all I wanted was to get outside
for a while—and as far away from them as possible. I’d have stayed outside even
if it was still snowing. So I walked behind the huts. That’s when I saw you
crossing the hollow and decided to follow you.” She paused to look around at
the surrounding trees. “Aren’t you afraid to be this far into the Forest by
yourself?”

“Not really. I don’t believe there are Evil Spirits in here.”

“What about tigers, though?”

“Well, I’ve been keeping watch through the eyes of that
eagle up there.” He pointed toward the tree and paused, suddenly aware that the
bird had gone from half asleep to alert and . . . frightened. The eagle was
definitely staring at something deeper in the Forest. Theklan closed his eyes
and let himself see what the eagle was looking at. “Merciful Maker!”

Kiara stood up. “What is it?”

“A . . .” Theklan paused long enough to swallow. “A Forest
tiger. And it’s coming this way.” His mind worked furiously. Was running a bad
idea? Some predators were more likely to chase you if you ran. What option did
they have? He didn’t even have his spear and he certainly wasn’t going to try
to fight off a Forest tiger with just his long knife. He grabbed Kiara’s hand.
“Come on! We need to get out of here.”

He didn’t need to look back or use the eyes of the eagle.
The crashing through the forest told him that the tiger was chasing them—and
gaining. Theklan would give anything right now to be able to make a magical
shield like Vatar’s to protect them. He couldn’t do that, but maybe there was
something else he could do that would be almost like a shield. Heart hammering,
he let go of Kiara’s hand. There was no need to endanger both of them. “Run!”

Theklan turned and half-closed his eyes as he lifted every
moveable item in his immediate vicinity—stones, branches, leaves—and set them
all spinning in the space between him and the oncoming tiger.

The tiger didn’t pause as it charged into the maelstrom.
Theklan could barely hear over the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his
ears. This wasn’t going to work. Then one of the heavier branches he’d set
swirling around struck the tiger on the nose. The beast skidded to a stop,
blinking. Theklan bit down on his lip and concentrated on sending the nearest
items right into the tiger’s face—even if they were only leaves. The tiger
sneezed and growled in Theklan’s direction.

Idiot,
Theklan cursed himself. The whirl of leaves
might confuse the tiger momentarily, but it wouldn’t stop the beast. What had
stopped, briefly at least, was that branch hitting it on the nose. He let the
leaves drop and concentrated on the few sizable branches and a couple of small
rocks, using them to strike at the tiger, which yowled in protest. The
commotion flushed a doe from hiding, much nearer to the tiger. The big cat
pounced on this easier prey and looked up to glare—and growl—at Theklan. Then
it took hold of its kill and dragged it farther into the Forest.