Tokus Numas (3 page)

For those who seek comfort in their daily life, let it be known that life cannot be life without death, and death cannot be death without life, and so as life passes on to death, death passes on to life.

—From
The Collections and Sayings of the Desert People
, by unknown author

P
etro walked out onto the field and saw the tents in the distance with servants standing about. There were three longbows in their stands, along with arrows and two triangle-shaped archery targets. The field was encircled by a high wall, which was part of the castle. It extended all way around with guards posted atop, keeping a watchful eye for any enemies. Clouds hovered overhead, and there was still moisture on the ground from the rains earlier that morning. The air felt cool and brisk, and a breeze cut across the field, reminding him he should have worn something more suitable. Petro took in a deep breath and coughed hard. He peered across the field at Princess Dia and Silda, who were sitting at a breakfast table. He smelled bacon and could see hard-boiled eggs, fresh fruit, select cheeses, and thin slices of choice meat laid out. There was even a fresh-cooked ham, with a skewer sticking through its center.

Silda was green eyed, black haired, small framed, tall, and both delicate and lanky. She wore a light-brown fall dress, a white blouse with a leather vest, and a pair of blue stained leather shoes.

Dia wore a white, long-sleeved blouse, a short vested coat, leather riding pants, and calf-high boots, and she had already fastened a leather guard to the inside of her forearm. She had her wispy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep it out of her face, and she was finishing up a piece of toast.

Dia got up and strolled out onto the field to greet Petro, who now stood near the bows.

“Good morning, Princess Dia.” Petro gave a slight bow.

“Good morning.” Dia returned a nod.

Petro reached for one of the bows; fiddling with the string, he turned to Dia. “I see you are dressed for war. Did I miss something?” He thought she had the bluest of blue eyes, powdery skin, and pouty lips. She’d make a beautiful queen one day—strong, vibrant, and a little sarcastic when it suited her.

“You missed it, Petro. We were attacked this morning! The army outside our walls unleashed a volley of arrows, which were burned to a cinder before they even made contact. Our new defenses—top secret, keep it to yourself—proved to be effective. When the army saw Silda and me, they turned tail and ran! We chased them, but we were unsuccessful in our pursuit.” She cocked her head to one side, brought up one eyebrow, and gave a little shake of her body.

Petro’s eyes were like slits, looking around but in no general direction. “I see. You’ve done well to keep me and the rest of us lazy heads safe. I’m glad we have such brilliant soldiers as yourselves—for terrible things would have happened, but we’ll never know, for your bravery is truly astounding.” He glanced over to Silda, who dropped a piece of food in her rush to wave at him. He gave a short wave back.

Dia slapped Petro in the shoulder and then gave him a good push. Petro fell to his side, keeping the bow up so as not to damage it. “Well, well. Our princess has the manners of a beardwhick, and how do you supposed that happened?”

Dia snatched the bow from Petro’s hand, notched an arrow, pulled back, aimed down the field, and let loose. The arrow soared into the air, traveling at a great speed, and hit the center of the triangle target.

There was a bright flash of light, and Petro found himself back in his bedroom. He started to hyperventilate, so he sat down and leaned forward, putting his head between his knees to catch his breath. It had happened again—he’d seen the future.
It felt so real
, he thought. What was he supposed to do? Tell Dia? Tell Silda? No, he’d thought about it before, even tried once when he was younger. There was one time when they were playing outside, near the old oak in the center of the garden. A branch fell and hit Dia in the head. Blood had gushed from her wound and seeped into the ground while she convulsed all over. It happened to him then, the bright flash of light, and he had told Dia about it. She laughed at him, and so he grabbed her and pulled her away from the tree, while she kicked and clawed at him. She swiped at him, even tried to scratch him across the face, and then the branch did fall exactly where he had predicted. Dia had paid no mind to the fallen branch; she was more upset with Petro as she stomped on his toe, and then she promptly left. They never spoke of it.

The flash of light was a good indicator that he was transitioning from his normal state to a vision. Sometimes the vision seemed to last longer; sometimes there was no bright flash of light at all, maybe only a headache, and he didn’t even realize he was seeing the future because it was like a vivid dream. He didn’t go about analyzing every moment of his day if this was real or not, because it was pointless. He figured it out after the vision had happened.

He strolled out of the castle and onto the field again, repeating his movements to near perfection. Petro wondered if there was any purpose to why he saw the future. He couldn’t think of any. It just seemed to happen on a whim.

Clouds hovered overhead, and moisture covered the grass, reminding everyone it had just recently rained. The air was cool, and a brisk breeze passed over the field.

Dia and Silda were eating their breakfast under a tent; servants stood about, waiting on them. There were boiled eggs, fresh fruit, sliced cheeses, and meats. Dia wore a white, long-sleeved blouse, leather riding pants, calf-high boots, and a leather guard on the inside of her left forearm. She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail that kept it out of her face. She strolled out onto the field to greet Petro.

“Good morning,” Dia said.

Petro returned her greeting. “Good morning, Princess Dia. I see you are dressed for war.”

She had the bluest of blue eyes, powdery skin, and pouty lips. Petro thought she’d make a beautiful queen one day. There, the same words, the same thoughts, so similar, so close, nearly exactly as before. Petro decided to change the course of events, to change the future.

“Oh, you didn’t hear? We were attacked this morning! Oh, dear Lord, you’ve slept through it. Upon approach the army outside our walls unleashed a volley of arrows, which were burned to a cinder before they even made contact. Then the entire army turned tail and ran! Silda and I chased them, but we were unsuccessful in capturing anyone or in finding out who was behind it.” She cocked her head to one side, brought up one eyebrow, and gave a little shake of her body.

“Oh, well, I’m glad my slumber was not interrupted. Good job to the both of you. I will certainly rest tonight as well as I did last night, knowing you two are guarding the castle.” He gave her a mischievous grin and glanced over to Silda, who dropped a piece of food in her rush to wave at him. He waved back. There—he’d made some slight changes. He smiled to himself.

Dia slapped Petro in the shoulder and then gave him a good push. Petro fell to his side, keeping the bow up so as not to damage it. “Well, well. Our princess has the manners of a beardwhick, and how do you supposed that happened?” That was nearly, maybe exactly what he had said earlier, but he knew what was coming next.

Dia snatched at the bow in Petro’s hand, but he pulled it away just in time, making her miss. There, he’d done it.

“You gonna shoot or stand there admiring that target?” Dia asked, her arms crossed.

“You are demanding, aren’t you?”

She shot him a look. “You would do well to hold your tongue, or I’ll have it out.”

Silda, the princess’s devoted companion, snickered and covered her mouth, which was filled with fresh slices of fruit.

Petro chuckled, looking at Silda. “Did you hear that? The princess has threatened to cut out my tongue! Well, here it is.” Petro stuck out his tongue.

Silda spit out her food and laughed. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Your Highness.”

Dia shrugged and turned her hands up and out.

Petro suppressed a chortle, notched an arrow, pulled back, aimed down the field, and let loose. The arrow soared into the air, traveling at a great speed, and then hit the center of the triangle target. He notched another arrow, drew the bowstring back, aimed for the triangle, and then Dia tugged on his sleeve just when he had let loose the arrow. It flew high and missed the target entirely.

“You’re a needy little thing this morning. Did you see what you did?” He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to make her laugh.

She smiled a little, and it was enough for the moment.

Silda ran up beside them. “Oh, let me try.” She grabbed the bow from Petro and pushed him out of the way.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll just get out of your way.” Petro gave Silda a cocky wink.

She ignored him.

Petro determined to see if he could get a rise out of her. “You should behave more appropriately when in the presence of a gentleman.”

Silda’s head cocked high. “You are no gentleman,” she said.

Petro looked down at the ground and then slowly up at both of them. “I would be quite the gentlemen if I were in the company of a lady.” He stood behind Silda, who elbowed him in the ribs.

“All right, I’m sorry.” He hunched over. “Let me help you.” He moved closer to her and took her arm, straightening it out to extend the bow from her body. He took her other hand and guided the arrow to where she notched it. “Good. Now, I know you’ve done this before, but first make sure you have a firm grasp on the bow; then, when you are ready, take the string and…” Silda jerked away and held the bow up high over her head.

“What are you doing?” Petro backed away.

“I am performing in tomorrow’s ceremony.” Silda fluttered her eyes at him.

“Stop that; you know I don’t like that.” Petro meant it, too. He shifted his eyes away and then looked back.

Silda twirled her body, taking smaller and smaller steps, kicking out her leg as she spun around to where she was tiptoeing in a circle with her arms stretched up high, the bow in her hands, the arrow straight up. She danced back over to him, twirled around, pulled the string back, brought her thumb to the corner of her mouth, stopped abruptly, and opened her fingers. The arrow whipped through the air and hit the target on the bottom left. Silda jumped up and down. “I hit it. Did you see that?”

“I suppose if you wanted to take a soldier’s foot out, that shot would do it.” Petro tilted to one side, his arms out, and he slowly nodded.

Silda’s smile dangled at the corner of her lips while she shoved the bow into Petro’s hands.

Dia sallied up next to them.

Silda bowed to her future queen, twirled away, and froze in a dancer’s pose.

Dia took the bow from Petro, notched an arrow, drew the string back, and fired. The arrow soared through the air and hit its target in the center. “Petro, I heard this morning—overheard, actually, that the Father attacked King Offing’s palace. It’s a good thing you have been selected to become a Numa. We need good men who will serve both God and men, not just themselves.”

Petro felt his blood run hot, and his jaw clenched hard where his muscles rippled visibly. He felt something on the side of his face and jerked suddenly. Silda had come up next to him and kissed him on the cheek. He felt a bit like a dummy, but on the other hand, he didn’t understand why Silda played that way with him. Would she have kissed him if he had not altered the future? He’d never know.
Alter the future
. He brought his hand up to his chin. Was it possible that this one little change—not allowing Dia to snatch the bow—led to Silda giving him a kiss? He doubted it.

Dia notched another arrow quickly and fired; it hit its target next to another arrow. She abruptly handed the bow over to a servant. “It’s not right, you know.” Her body was rigid.

“Dia, there’s nothing your father could have done. He offered King Offing aid—you know that—but the Old Oak turned it down. Your father has soldiers now at the ready, south of here on the border, just waiting for him to give word,” Petro said.

“I know.” She stood erect. “King Offing is foolish; his pride has gotten the best of him.”

“Well, maybe his pride will give way, and he’ll signal for help. If he does, your father’s army will march,” he said.

“And it will be too late. My father should stand down,” she said.

Silda minced her way over toward Petro.

Petro expelled his breath fully.

“You disapprove? His army cannot make it in time. It will take three days to march, and by that time King Offing’s castle will be overran,” Dia said.

Petro’s muscles tightened in his face.

“All right, I think that’s enough talk about war for today.” Silda spread her arms wide. “Petro, is it true what they say about the Numas—such as, if someone were to curse another, he has to wash his mouth out seven times, spit seven times, and apologize seven times?”

“Seems like an odd way to merely apologize.” Dia kicked at the ground.

“I’m not sure. I’ve heard of it, yes, and I’d agree it does sound silly,” Petro said. Everything came rushing back to him, how he was being made to leave and how it was so soon. No time for long good-byes. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to go, but it seemed that both Queen Lilith and King Amerstall thought it best for him. His final moments at Dugual were coming to an end like grains of sand falling to the bottom of an hourglass.