To Darkness Fled (35 page)

Achan looked again to the blackness above, shielding his eyes with his hand. "Then what do you suppose that one was?"

Sparrow didn't answer.

Picka
picka
picka
picka
picka
picka
picka
.

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click.

Shweeeeeeeee
.

Balls of yellow light illuminated the forest around them. "Black knights?" Achan reached to draw his sword and found his scabbard empty. His stomach clenched. Had it fallen?

"Not black knights." Sir Gavin said, calming his horse. "Don't fight them. All will be well."

Achan twisted on his saddle, feeling for
Eagan
's Elk, squinting for the glint of the blade in the pale light. The multitude of strange sounds seemed to magnify.

Shweeeeeeeee
.

A furry beast fell from the treetops, hovering to Achan's right. Achan cried out. Metal scraped over wood on his left. He swiveled in his saddle. A fur-clad man held
Eagan
's Elk to his throat. These weren't beasts. They were men in fur clothing.

Achan lifted his hands above his head. The chilled air snaked in the gap of his cloak and up his torso.

"Where you go to?" the man holding
Eagan
's Elk asked.

"We travel to Berland to seek the hospitality of Duke Orson," Sir Gavin yelled. "We are friends of Prince Oren. The young man behind me carries his ring."

The creature glided over the back of Achan's horse, somehow hanging mid-air. He grabbed Achan's hand and inspected Prince Oren's ring, then drew Achan's hands behind his back. Achan tried to jerk free, but the man holding
Eagan
's Elk pulled a burlap sack over Achan's head. Achan stood in his stirrups and tried to throw himself from Scout's back. Strong hands gripped his shoulders while another rope was threaded under his arms, bound around his chest. Achan's muscles tensed. What had Sir Gavin meant by "Don't fight them"?

A hand slapped Achan's back, a voice yelled, "Hay oh!" and his body zipped into the air. He screamed as he flew, feet swinging out behind, ripping past branches. He sucked in a breath and burlap filled his mouth. He spit it out, desperately wanting to grab something. Before he could think what to do, his flight slowed. Hands caught his arms, pulled him forward.

His feet landed on a wood plank. The rope around his chest tugged away, and he was ushered along a platform that swayed under his trembling steps. In the distance, Sparrow screamed. Achan couldn't help but smile. The little fox was flying.

His captors led him along the wooden bridge for some time, surrounded by the bedlam of clicking and drumming. His breathing heated up the bag on his head, moistening his face. Soon, voices rose above the percussion, chanting in low tones.

"Hey
ya
hey! Hey
ya
ho! Hey
ya
ha! Hey no
no
!"

Achan's guides stopped. His wrists were freed. The sack slipped from his head and cold air engulfed his sweaty face.

A man's hairy, familiar face looked down, framed by fat, black, frizzy braids and curly sideburns. A small bone ring looped through the top of his left ear.

Shung Noatak, a man Achan had fought at Esek's coming-of-age tournament, grinned and slung a cape of furs around Achan's shoulders, blanketing him in warmth. He held out
Eagan
's Elk. "Little Cham. We have been expecting you."

22

Achan gripped the log railing and took in the scene. An entire village lived in the trees, built on branches and platforms. Wattle and daub huts perched at a myriad of levels, connected by rickety split-log staircases and narrow bridges.

Two levels down, a wide, round platform had been built into a clearing of tree trunks. A log banister edged the platform, forming an outdoor great hall. In the center, a low, circular stone hearth held a bonfire. People dressed in fur and leather danced around it. Smoke curled up from the flames, drifting out of the clearing in the treetops above. In the surrounding trees, blazing glass balls of colored light in red, blue, green, and yellow dangled from branches, railings, or
lampstands
that stood along the bridges.

Achan pointed at the nearest glass ball. "What is that?"

"Come. Shung will show you."

He led Achan along the bridge, down a short staircase, and across another gangway to a blue ball that hung from a lamp stand on a chain like a lantern. It had a round opening that let out heat and smoke from a blue torchlight burning inside.

"We call luminaria. Pleasant, no?"

"Aye. Very."

"Let go of me!" Sparrow's voice carried from the trees across the platform. "I can walk myself!"

Shung chuckled. "The small one did not like lift."

Achan scanned the staircases and bridges but did not see the boy.
Stop making so much noise, Sparrow. You'll call the chams.

These fur men nearly killed me, yanking me into the trees like a bag of meat. And those, those...singers are making more noise than I am.
"I said, I can walk myself!"

Shung started back down the stairs. "Another little cham?"

Achan followed. "
Naw
. That one's a fox."

"I heard that!" Sparrow called out.

"Little Cham has come to Berland. Shung is glad."

Achan looked into Shung's dark eyes, recalling their sword match at Esek's tournament months ago. Shung had won, technically. He'd also promised if Achan ever came to Berland, he'd take him hunting. "Are we going to hunt a cham?"

Shung grunted. "Not this night, Little Cham. Come. The celebration awaits."

Shung guided Achan down a maze of stairs and bridges to a wider staircase that led to the center platform. Three thrones were arranged on one arc of the perimeter, facing the bonfire. A young man sat in the throne on the far left. He was as hairy as Shung, but slimmer. His tunic and trousers were made of short brown fur. Red fox tails hung around his neck like edging on a robe. It also circled around the tops of his deerskin boots. He wore a necklace dripping with at least two dozen cham claws.

The center, and largest, throne was empty. A matronly woman sat in the throne on the far right. She wore a tunic of white fur with matching boots and dark leather trousers. A white fur hat tied under her chin. Long salt-and-pepper braids spilled down into her lap.

The dancers and drummers were still chanting. "Hey
ya
hey! Hey
ya
ho! Hey
ya
ha! Hey no
no
!"

The young man stood and held up his hands, palms out. The drums trilled, voices warbled, all sounds increased. Achan shrank into himself at the noise level. The young man clenched his hands into fists and the noise stopped. He stared at Achan and spoke in a commanding voice. "Prince Gidon Hadar, also called Achan the Cham of Sitna. We welcome you to Berland, we do. We welcome you, our future king."

The man went down on one knee.

Beside Achan, Shung went to one knee. All around him fur-clad men, women, and children knelt. Across the platform, one boy still stood, looking lost. Sparrow.

Achan didn't bother hiding the grin in his voice.
Still trembling after your flight?

Sparrow jumped, eyes darting everywhere but Achan's direction.
Where are you?

The young leader stood and approached Achan. They were about the same height, but this man was several years older. He wore straight spears of white bone through each ear that looked to have been stabbed through and forgotten.

"I am called Koyukuk Orson. I am heir to Berland and Therion Duchy, I am. My father, Duke Orson, has not yet returned from Mahanaim where he attended Council."
Koyukuk
gripped Achan's shoulder and steered him before the matronly woman. "Please, meet my mother, Duchess Crysta."

Achan bowed. "I am honored, my lady."

The crowd cheered.

Koyukuk
led Achan to a slender young woman standing beside his throne. "Please, meet my betrothed, Kumna Attu."

The woman curtsied. She wore a creamy suede tunic and trousers. White fur fluffed out of her neckline and cuffs. Dark braids twisted in a pile atop her head. She had wide eyes and full lips, yet a small loop of bone through the center of her nostrils gathered all Achan's attention.

"Kumna will be your first dance, she will," Koyukuk said. "In this you will show me honor."

Dance? Achan had never danced a day in his life. Gren had never been willing, afraid of getting in trouble. Achan tore his eyes away from Kumna's nose ring and took in the pretty woman. How fortunate for Koyukuk that all the women in Berland didn't look like his foreboding sister, Lady Gali, who had been among Esek's prospects to marry. Achan steeled himself. Did that mean Lady Gali was now among his prospects? The woman was as broad as a Kingsguard soldier.

Achan bowed and said, "Thank you," because he could think of nothing else to say to the gift of a dance.

Koyukuk led him to the center throne, cham claw necklace clacking. "Our guest of honor will sit in my father's chair."

Achan froze. Koyukuk wanted him to sit on a throne?

"You honor us to do so," Koyukuk said.

Achan reached for Sir Caleb's mind but guessed what the knight would say. He spit out a flowery response. "Thank you. You honor me with your offer."

Koyukuk smiled and gestured for Achan to sit.

Achan stared at the wooden throne. Could he really do this? Play king? It still felt like a game.

Sometime tonight, Your Highness
, Sir Caleb said.

And here I thought you'd deserted me
, Achan said.

You were doing fine until now.

Emphasis on "were"?

Sit.

Achan turned, lowered his eyes, and sat.

The forest filled with cheers. The drumming and chanting commenced. "Hey
ya
hey! Hey
ya
ho! Hey
ya
ha! Hey no
no
!"

A cluster of men wearing painted, wooden masks skipped out in front of the throne and began to dance and sing.

We come from land of forest,

Where kuon and cham roam free.

Sun fled far and took our stars,

And night will always be.

The Darkness tries to catch us,

And cause us all great fear.

No matter how it blinds us,

Arman is always near.

"Hey
ya
hey! Hey
ya
ho! Hey
ya
ha! Hey no
no
!"

The dancers scurried away, and the crowd formed a circle around the platform from one edge of the thrones to the other. Kumna pulled Achan from the chair. Her hands were small and warm, and the white fur on her cuffs tickled the tops of his hands. Achan's fur cape slid off his shoulders and landed in a heap by the throne. Cold air crept up his tunic. He tensed as Kumna drew his trembling form into the open space.

Everyone watched.

Kumna lifted their hands above their heads, stepped close, and stomped with one foot. Her dark eyes met his and she drew back, released his hands, and danced around to his back. He tried to turn, but she set a hand on his shoulder. "Stay."

She shimmied to his right and stomped her right foot, shimmied to his left and stomped her left foot. She danced her way around him until they faced each other again.

Achan merely had to stand still? No trouble there. But the couples pairing off around them proved the dance more complex. Not only did Achan have to stomp when Kumna did, he had to shimmy the opposite way, and when they finished the sequence, had to take the lead while she stood still.