Shadow of the Horsemen (Kalie's Journey) (13 page)

Kalie followed Riyik past tents where women prepared food for the feasting, or sat at their leisure beneath awnings. He seemed not to notice them as he traveled through the warren of dwellings, stopping at last before one that had not been there just days ago.

Riyik’s tent. His new home. She knew Yarik already lived there, and—temporarily—so did Brenia, who was making things ready, while Hysaak enjoyed time with Elka, his new bride, as well as with the slave girl he had purchased for her. But he had not yet provided his first wife with a new slave, shaming her further before the tribe, and fueling the gossips who thrived on such scandals.

As Riyik threw aside the door flap without scratching and crawled inside, Kalie found a spot on the other side of the tent, where two layers of new felt did not quite join, creating a tiny slit for her to peer through. Praying that the dark night and her dull clothing would hide her from view, she settled down to observe.

Riyik sat alone in the middle of a tent that smelled of new felt and herbs that Kalie remembered from her visits to Brenia’s tent. A fire danced in the brazier, illuminating clean new rugs and cushions. Bed furs were neatly rolled, awaiting use. Riyik was examining a bright copper cooking pot, as if unsure what it was.

The sounds of childish laughter and a woman’s gentle voice pulled them both from their examinations. The tent flap was flung aside and Yarik and Barak tumbled into the tent, followed more demurely by Brenia.

“Riyik!” Brenia was clearly surprised to see him. Then she grew concerned. “You shouldn’t stay away from the feasting for long. It might be noticed.”

He appeared not to hear her.

“Riyik… Is anything wrong?”

“Is anything not wrong?” he cried suddenly. The raw pain in his voice startled Kalie. “I may have just sworn loyalty to a fool of a boy who lives solely to do the bidding of a man who slew his own king! How could anything be right?”

Brenia, her face pale, shot him a warning look, and hurried to the open door flap to peek outside. Crouching in the shadows, Kalie held her breath.

“I do not think anyone heard,” Brenia whispered when she returned. “But you must never say that again!”

Riyik lowered his voice to a matching whisper. “You seem more surprised by my outburst than my words.”

“It was clear enough that the king was poisoned. Anyone who has nursed a man through an illness could see what ailed the king. And what did not.”

“’Anyone who has nursed a man through an illness?’ Meaning what? That every woman in the camp knows the king was murdered?”

“Only those with eyes,” said Brenia, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “Few enough of them in this camp to worry Haraak. Not that he would ever concern himself with what we think.”

Riyik smiled. “You sound as though you’ve been listening to Kalie.”

It was Brenia’s turn to sound startled. “I guess I have at that. Sometimes it’s hard not to. She’s…not like anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I have been saying that to myself a great deal lately.”

Brenia smiled. “Yet if either of us told her that, she would ask us how we knew. She’d say we’ve rarely actually met anyone. You’ve simply killed or enslaved anyone you’ve come across, and I’ve lived my life in a felt tent, meeting only those people my men have allowed me to meet.”

“When you put it like that, I suppose I’m a fool to pursue her. She’s obviously mad.”

For an instant, Kalie saw fire blaze in Brenia’s placid eyes. Then it was gone. “You have seen her world, Brother. You know she is not mad. Though how a woman could go from living as she did to living as we do and not go mad…that is the true puzzle.”

“And how did she live before?”

“You know the answer. She lived like a man. And that is why you cannot have her. And perhaps also why you so desire her.”

For a moment, Kalie feared Riyik was about to strike Brenia—and she didn’t know what she would do if he did. But to her immense relief, he ground his fists into the rug beneath him instead. When he had control of himself he glared at his sister. “Are you saying that I prefer men?” he asked softly. “That she…”

“I am saying,” Brenia said calmly, “that Kalie lived as proud and free as any warrior. Of course she didn’t live the same way as our men; they have no horses. They’re farmers, not warriors. But I’ve listened to her stories. Even if none of them are true, she didn’t learn them by sitting in a tent and waiting for some traveler to come in and tell her. She sailed boats up and down her rivers the way you ride a horse. She walked across a land wider than our steppes. For learning, for healing, for adventure, Kalie’s done all the things you dream of, Riyik. Even those dreams you’ve never told to me. And she never even thought of being afraid while she did it. Could such a woman as that exist among our people?”

Brenia paused while that sank in. Riyik seemed about to deny it, but paused. It was as if memories of his time in the city whispered the truth of his sister’s words.

“And I helped take all that from her.”

“Yes,” said Brenia. “Which is why she cannot marry you, although I believe she loves you as much as you love her.”

Riyik was about to speak, when he heard the last part.

“Loves me? You think she loves me? Then why won’t she…”

Brenia sighed. “Riyik, could you marry a woman who broke both your legs, then healed them in such a way that you could never ride a horse again? Even if she swore she would take care of you all your life so you wouldn’t need to ride again?”
    

Riyik was silent, while Kalie’s heart soared within her. And while she still wasn’t certain what she felt for Riyik, she knew at that moment that she loved his sister.

“Is it really like that for her here?” Riyik asked sometime later.

Instead of answering, Brenia reached inside a basket of clothing and showed Riyik a pair of shoes. “She brought these by for Yarik.”

Riyik looked over the special shoes that might someday allow his son to walk like other boys. Except that he would never be like other boys, because they needed no special help for something as simple as walking. And they would never let him forget that. And if he could not run? Would they leave him alone, as someone not even worth tormenting, or would they beat him until they finally killed him? And which would be worse? Kalie could read the play of thoughts on his face as clearly as if he had spoken.

“Do they help?” he asked hoarsely.

“See for yourself. He’s been watching and listening while pretending to sleep this whole time.”

His secret out, Yarik leapt from the furs, crying, “Dada!” He rose to his feet, pushing off with his good leg, and ran to his father.

Riyik caught the boy, just as his twisted foot gave out beneath him, and tossed him lightly into the air. Yarik squealed with delight. “More!” he cried. Riyik tossed him again.

“Dada go riding? Take me riding?”

“Dada is busy now,” said Brenia, moving to take Yarik from his father.

“We can go riding now,” said Riyik.

Brenia opened her mouth to protest, then closed it and smiled.

Kalie slid back into the shadows, and hurried back to Maalke’s tent. She sensed another sleepless night, with much to think about, lay ahead.

 
“Haraak is planning a feast for Wolf tribe,” whispered the Shadow Woman. “There will be gifts exchanged, and many marriages made.”

Kalie handed her another morsel of food. “When we reach the gathering?”

“Before,” said the woman, with a hint of pride.

“How is that? We haven’t left yet. The Wolf warriors are already at the gathering place.” Kalie gazed at the endless brown grass, nearly as tall as a man, while shimmering waves of heat danced above. Not a breath of wind stirred anything. Kalie thought that if they did not leave soon she would go mad, though whether from heat or boredom she wasn’t sure.

“There is to be a secret meeting of select warriors of the two tribes when we are halfway to the gathering. Haraak and his Wolf spy spoke of it while they took turns having me last night. It seemed to excite them. One of the Wolf warriors is to be killed there.”

“Do you know which? Or why?”

The Shadow Woman shifted nervously, and shot a quick look at Kalie’s basket. Kalie sighed. She wished the woman had the confidence to simply tell her that her that big news cost extra.

Kalie took out the wedge of cheese that was supposed to be her midday meal. She broke it nearly in half, and offered the larger piece to her informant.

The woman’s eyes grew wide. “They did not mention a name—I think both men already knew. But it is to be Haraak who does the killing, to prove he can be trusted.”

Kalie dropped the cheese into the starving woman’s hand and watched her gobble it down and then skulk away. She started to return to Maalke’s tent, but couldn’t bear the thought of the tension inside, even worse than the heat.

The new power structure of the tribe seemed to hold no place for Kalie’s master, who had done poorly in the latest jockeying for position. Then the warrior from Griiv’s clan had pulled out of their bargain to exchange Varena for two of his slave women. Kalie and Varena were both thrilled to remain together, but tension lay heavy in the tent. When Altia had berated Maalke about his promise to her for new slaves, he had beaten her nearly senseless. Both her eyes were swollen shut, and her daughters had to lead her around her own tent. Maalke spent most days riding and hunting with other disgruntled warriors, or brooding in the tent drinking kumis.

Kalie went to the lake instead. She wanted to be near water, even if it was nearly as hot as the air above. They had stayed overlong in this place and the water was stagnant and foul. If they stayed much longer, pestilence would rage through the camp. Already many were ill. Yet still Kariik waited, closeted in meetings with Haraak and messengers from the other tribes.

Something big was going to happen; Kalie didn’t need a network of spies to tell her that. But whether or not it was the invasion of her homeland by a well-organized federation of tribes? That fact still eluded her.

As well as what to do about it.

There were fewer people about, and no one ordered Kalie out of the water when she slipped off her shoes and waded in, careful not to raise her skirt above her knees. Many remained in the shelter of their tents, too wilted by the heat to move if they didn’t have to. Others, mostly older boys and slave women, had been sent with the flocks to better grazing lands to fatten them up for the late summer Gathering.

That, at least, was normal for this time of year, but then again, it also suited Haraak’s purposes. Since the boys had charge of the bulk of the tribe’s wealth, each group had two or three seasoned warriors for protection. Haraak had made sure that anyone who could be a threat to his plans was sent on that mission. Kalie settled into the relative shade of the tall grass, listening to the soothing trill of brown grasshoppers as she wondered again what she might do.

She was nearly asleep when someone called her name. Jerking awake, Kalie found Tilla, another of her spies, shaking her. Tilla had been a Shadow Woman until Kalie had convinced the wife of Daliik, a rising young warrior, to take her as a slave. Daliik was a favorite of the new king, but too stingy to buy his wife more slaves. In fact, he had given the younger of the two she owned as a gift to Kariik, leaving his sick and pregnant wife to fend for herself. Kalie had convinced her that Tilla was skilled Healer, and then quietly taught Tilla everything she could about midwifery. So far, it was working, and in gratitude, Tilla came to Kalie with every bit of gossip she heard—useful or not.

“The wife of Gault now sneaks out at night to lie with my master,” Tilla said, as they filled her water bags.

“How is this done in a camp so full of bored and watchful eyes?” Kalie asked. “And why would she risk death for such limited pleasure?”

Tilla shrugged. “It is whispered that Gault cannot father a child. A childless woman in this land is…”

Kalie nodded. “Yes, I know. So she hopes to get pregnant and pass the child off as Gault’s?”

“Or perhaps she hopes Gault and my master will fight over her. If Dariik wins, he could choose to claim her as a second wife.”

They left the lake and headed back to camp. Kalie thanked Tilla for the information and went slowly toward her own dwelling place, wondering what use she might make of this latest bit of gossip. She had come to this Goddess forsaken land to learn about her enemy, and now she probably knew more than anyone in the Western world about the beastmen. If only she knew what to do with the knowledge!

She was just passing a neighboring tent, well within sight of Maalke’s, when a loud altercation erupted from within. Kalie froze in time to see Maalke drag Varena from the tent. “Break my goblet, will you?” Maalke roared while he shook Varena like a young tree. “I’ll teach you!” He began dragging her into the empty grass beyond the camp.

Kalie watched them disappear into the tall grass.

If Maalke wanted to beat Varena for some transgression, he would do it in the tent. Which meant he had another purpose for seeking privacy.

Kalie was barely aware of following them into the grass; barely aware of pausing at the waste trench at the edge of camp to grab the leg bone of a horse. The bone was nearly picked clean by tiny scavengers, some of whom continued their feast as Kalie walked. Its solid weight felt good in her hand.

The rustling of grass in the still air told her where her quarry had gone. Kalie followed.

She lost track of them when a stray breeze set all the grass to moving. It was gone a moment later, but by then she could find no sign of Maalke and Varena.

A sharp cry of pain, followed by a roar of anger told Kalie where they had stopped.

“Please, father, don’t…” Varena begged.

Maalke cut her pleas short with a blow from his fist. “Don’t you dare call me that, you little slut! You think anyone knows who your father is? Your mother was a whore and you’re just like her! You think I haven’t seen the way you move your ass for every passing man? If some dirty cunt calls herself my daughter and eats my food, I’ve damned well got the right to some use of her! Gods know, everyone else has!”

When Kalie came within sight of them, Maalke had Varena on the ground with her robe torn nearly off. His trousers were down and he was working on prying her legs apart. Kalie was impressed by the strength of Varena’s struggle: she never thought the timid slave girl had that much fight in her. Maalke must find the struggle amusing; there was no other reason for him to allow it to continue so long.

Finally, with a brutal twist of his knee, Maalke got her legs apart.

Kalie stepped forward and raised her club. She watched it travel downward in a smooth, slow arc that made her think of a beautiful waterfall.

The jarring crunch that traveled up her arm as it struck the back of Maalke’s head was the most satisfying thing she had ever felt.

Kalie had seen many men struck in the head in her time with the beastmen, but having never done it herself, she wasn’t sure what to expect. So, she was rather concerned when Maalke slowly turned to face her, rather than simply falling over. Kalie raised the bone again, ready to dash it into his face.

That proved to be unnecessary, as Maalke blinked once, then slowly folded to the ground.

Kalie stood over his still form, and felt an urge to roar with triumph.

Varena’s labored breathing brought her out of it. “Are you hurt?” she cried, kneeling by the girl. Varena’s face seemed wiped of all humanity, as she struggled only to breathe. By the time Kalie had determined she was not physically injured, the girl regained enough of herself to whisper, “He was going to…I never led him on, I swear it! I was a good girl!”

Kalie gathered her daughter into her arms, rocking them both for the comfort it gave. “Shh. It wasn’t your fault.”

“He said I was…”

“And he knew he was lying even as he said it.” Kalie gazed at Maalke’s unconscious form. “Strange, that he had to convince himself that you were asking for it. As if even filth like Maalke has a sense of right and wrong. You wouldn’t know it the rest of the time.”

Varena finally recovered enough to look at Maalke’s body, then at Kalie. “What have you done?” she shrieked.

Kalie followed her gaze, and said dispassionately: “Something I should have done a very long time ago.”

“But we’ll be killed for it! As soon as he wakes up, or someone finds him…”

“Then we’d better make certain he has good cause to keep this a secret.”

As one, Kalie and Varena gasped and turned to see who spoke.

Riyik stood in the grass behind them, a rather curious smile on his face.