Chapter
Eleven
"The
truth is rarely pure and never simple."—Oscar Wilde
Sabre was in near panic, and
nothing anyone could say or do would calm her. Gravitt had taken his horse from
her before noon, and swung himself into the saddle without even bothering to
thank her for saddling and warming it up for him. While she was used to his lack
of gratitude for everything that she provided, it was most disturbing when
he'd shown up dragging Darian behind him. His harsh "do it" to her as he
held the child in his arms from atop his horse was her cue to force her son to
sleep before they left for parts unknown. As usual, Gravitt had offered no
explanation, no expected time of return, no nothing. Even though she knew the boy wouldn't know what happening
to him gave her little comfort. She knew she should be used to Gravitt's lack
of details, it went with his lack of a human soul. But he had never just taken off with her child before, and
with everything as strange as it was in Vane she couldn't help but fear the
worst. Her sense of helplessness against her master surged forward again, adding
to her worries. Gravitt
is soulless, but I pray, despite his threats, that he would not kill his own
child…Not out of spite, surely not... please, Goddess!
She shook her head, thinking
of that moment again. It was
becoming harder to 'force' Darian to sleep—she wasn't sure why. Of course,
his powers were starting to develop, and she had been tired lately, but it still
didn't make much sense. He wasn't growing that fast, was he? Nothing seemed to make sense anymore, least of all anything
having to do with this trip to Vane. The
freedom, no Philip or Marcus, the man in the Tavern, the special room…
Although
her mind was in a far distant place and darkening with worry, Sabre had spent
the entire day in and around the stables awaiting Darian's return.
At first she had tried doing every chore she could think of, praying for
something to keep her mind occupied. When
those ran out, she began pacing blindly from one end of the barn to the other in
anxiety. One, two, four, then finally six hours passed as she worked without
rest until exhaustion began to creep up on her and, totally drained, she felt
her legs start to give out from under her. Somehow, over the hours, food had
become distant and unimportant and she had not bothered to return to the Guild
for lunch or dinner. In her mind
she knew this was just adding to her fatigue, yet in her torn heart it seemed
irrelevant.
Hours
later found her still in her current position--sitting cross-legged on a hay
bale outside the barn, watching the horses wander about in a newly constructed
corral. Off in the distance she could see some workers starting to build another
one, and they were being ordered around by the same woman that Brinson had shown
some interest in earlier.
She frowned to herself,
feeling a pang of guilt after her little display on the giant bay that morning.
For an instant she almost stood to walk out and apologize to the dark
haired woman, who
had clearly doubted her ability to stop the horse. But then, she decided against
it. Brinson was all that she had, and no snotty Vane-taught girl who looked like
she hadn't brushed her hair in three years was going to take him from her.
Besides, she had that handsome man in the mage's robe following her around.
Did she really need two?
Although
she had been angry at him after the incident with the girl, Brinson had made it
his mission to stay with her all day. His presence was comforting, but even his
kind words, jokes, stories and songs hadn't been enough to take her mind off
Darian. About an hour ago he had announced he was going to find the two of them
something to eat, and with a touch of his hand to her hair, he left. She
hadn't even nodded a response to him; her eyes and her mind were transfixed on
the distance, hoping, praying, that she would see them coming out of the
forest's shadows at any second.
Brinson…
She smiled as she thought of him. He was her oldest and best friend, and in many
ways the only family she'd known. Although she would trust him with her life,
she also knew he was a romantic idiot. Gravitt's threats didn't deter him,
and her warnings were usually ignored. Sadly, there had been too many close
calls when he wouldn't listen to her, far too many.
Even as children, whether as
slaves to the Setin or hired 'friends' by Ziggratt for the animal that had
become their master, he had always been more than kind to her. She would always
remember their first night in Briggatt; the walls were dark, the bed was
strange, and she couldn't sleep. He had snuck into her room and had tried to
put her mind at ease with an old Prairie song. He
has the most beautiful voice…
The
first time he'd tried to kiss her he had learned the hard way that her
warnings were meant to be taken seriously.
She fought a smile as she remembered the smile on his face as he had
leaned forward to sneak a quick peck on her cheek, and the dazed grin he'd
given her as he tried to pick himself back up off the floor afterwards.
But even that had not deterred him.
Of course, when it was time
for Darian to be born he wouldn't hear of not being there with her. As it
started, the midwife (who was really just Gravitt's cook) had tried to force
him to leave, but he adamantly refused. After
the old woman had placed a thick sheet over her, Sabre had begged him to leave,
out of fear for his own safety, though she really didn't want him to go. He
must have sensed the dilemma in her voice, and took a hold of her gloved hand as
he sat next to her, promising to stay for the whole ordeal.
Then, by intent or accident,
just as the pains started to become unbearable and the baby about to come, he
touched her forehead. Whatever he felt at that moment, she didn't know and
he'd refused to tell her, even to this day. Somehow he had managed to shake it
off and remained there with her, still holding her hand with the same gentle
strength as before. She would always see that moment in her dreams; those gentle
tawny eyes shuddering with horror at the obvious agony she was in and, she
suspected, he had just experienced.
Later,
when her son was asleep and she was resting, she tried to yell at him, but
couldn't bring herself to do it, and ended up crying instead. There was so
much to consider! What to name the baby? What kind of life had she brought him
into? What would Gravitt do about all of this? Would he kill the child? Would he
see the boy as a threat on his seat of power? Would he just bide his time until
he could exploit his own son? What if something happened to her? She didn't
want Gravitt raising the child—he would turn him into a killer. She was
scared; and she begged Brinson to stay with her that night. He smiled as he
vigilantly brushed her hair until she found slumber, and then slept on the floor
next to the bed without even so much as a blanket. As mad as he makes me
sometimes, I know I could never live without him. He's become my other half,
even though I didn't want it to happen, it's not fair to him, to either of
us...
Footfalls
began to separate themselves from the din behind her and drag her out of the all
too bitter memories. She turned her head to see Brinson, walking quickly towards
her and carrying a large basket in his right hand. The fine clothing he had been
wearing since they arrived in Vane might make him look respectable to others,
but to her, he appeared a bit silly and out of place in them. Even in the
distance, she could see him smiling, and knew just by the swishing of his
ponytail that he had gotten into some kind of mischief. Sometimes he needs
more watching than Darian. He came closer and sat next to her, smiling at
her as he opened the parcel.
"I
brought you something."
She
jumped off her spot on the hay bale and trotted towards him, still suspicious of
the smile on his face and, for the first time that
day, noticed the grumbling of her stomach. "I
hope it's food, I'm starving."
He
smiled as he sat down on the hay-covered ground, motioning for her to do the
same. As she did, he placed the basket between them and grinned even wider.
"Yes, I got food, but managed to pick up a few other things as well."
She
moved closer to peer into the parcel, but he pulled it away. She scowled at him.
"Well are you going to show me or not?"
He
laughed, pulled a box wrapped in a bright black ribbon out of the basket, and
handed it to her. "I went to the Festival and hit some of the vendors, and
found this. I thought you might like it."
She pulled the ribbon off the
small box and, opening it, looked down at its contents. Within lay a small wooden necklace, its pendant in the shape
of a galloping horse, the carefully carved mane flowing over the curved back.
Sabre turned it over in her hands, admiring the way light seemed to play within
the wood's dark grain and polished surface.
She looked up at him in surprised wonder; no one had ever given her
jewelry before. "Its beautiful…"
He
grinned at her. "I got Darian something, too." From the basket he produced a
hand puppet in the shape of a dog, its soft brown rabbit fur and bright button
eyes bringing radiance to her face as she looked at it. Brinson gave a little
fond laugh. "After all, he keeps saying that he wants a puppy."
Sabre
smiled, as she put the necklace on, fumbling with the clasp a little. "He'll
love it." Then her face clouded as she looked at him. "Where did you get the
money—for all this?"
The
blonde man shrugged as he brushed her hair. "Gravitt gave me some. He insisted
that I appear as a gentleman, and gentlemen spend money. Don't you think, my
love?"
She
leaned on his shoulder, shaking her head as she smiled in disbelief at how
impossible the moment seemed, yet delighting in it. "Well, I guess."
He
reached back into the basket. "Enough chat, let's eat." Yet there was
something in his smile that promised her there was more to come.
Brinson
had bought what seemed to be a meal and a half to Sabre--meat, fruits, bread,
and even some cake for dessert. She couldn't remember ever eating that well,
and with him for company, she almost forgot about Darian. As they finished their
dinner, she asked in wonder; "So was all this from the reception, the big
party you were telling me about?"
He
shook his head, "No, there isn't one tonight. Only every other night—I
guess even Vane can't afford more than that. This came from the vendors. I
still can't believe just what they have to sell here—anything you could ever
want!"
"We'll
have to go again, the three of us —when Darian gets back, or tomorrow. The quick
pass we made yesterday wasn't nearly enough time to look at anything." A
worried look crossed her face. "I wish they'd get back. He's been away an
awfully long time now."
He
nodded, finishing a bite of cake. "We will, and Darian will be fine,
Gravitt's got plans for all of us here, you know that. Even
if we don't know what they are yet."
He paused, "Sabre…are you all right? I've never seen you as tired as you
have been the past few weeks."
She
grimaced, "I don't know what's wrong. I've never felt like this."
His
words were edged, but he held the anger in his voice in check as he asked,
"Gravitt hasn't…I mean…you don't think you're…"
She
said quietly, the distaste for the entire topic surfacing in her tone. "No, he
hasn't, and certainly not recently enough, so no, I'm
not pregnant."
Brinson
seemed relieved and quickly changed the subject. "Oh, by the way, I know our
'master' is going to make me go to that reception tomorrow. He only let me
off the hook for the first one since I only had my riding leathers, nothing he
wanted me to be seen in at anything so fancy. Do you…do you want to come with
me? We could buy you a dress. I'd love to take you."
She
shook her head emphatically. "I don't want to be paraded around like some
prize mare in front of the entire city of Vane. I can't stand these people
anyway. They keep their women unarmed and half dressed. Its disgusting!"
He
glared at her, "You really should give this place a chance, Sabre. You should
see the Library, its unreal! I've dreamt of coming here my entire life, just
to see that place. These people aren't bad; they are just different. They feed
intellects rather than horses or sheep and they value education rather than
money."
She
scoffed, "Really? If that was true, then the place wouldn't be covered in
gold and silver, and people would dress normally."
"To
them, this is normal and has been for a thousand years. We are the ones that are
different."
"I
know that!" She looked away from him; he was right, but there was something
about Vane she didn't like. She wasn't sure what it was, but having her
sword taken away from her at the gate certainly did not make her happy from the
start, and the people here seemed to be both soft and arrogant—a combination
that confused and bothered her.
He
leaned back on his elbows, and looked up into the dusk as he pleaded to her.
"Sabre…come here, please?"
She
moved closer to him, and he sat up. "What?"
"Sit
here, with me? For just a minute?" He said, patting the ground between his
legs.
She
smiled. At least they had some time to be alone, and with the sun going down,
the Blue Star's light was more than inviting. She sat where he asked, leaning
her back against his chest and feeling his breath on her neck. He is a
romantic idiot, but I can be, too…up to a point, anyway.
He
pulled at her hair, twisting small pieces of it in his fingers so delicately she
closed her eyes with a soft sigh. After a long moment, he whispered, "I have
another surprise, my love."
She
turned to look back at him, "What?"
"I
bought something else at the market, too. For us."
"What
is it?"
Lifting
her slightly, he reached into the inner pocket of his shirt and held out two
black silken gloves, the light dancing as it shifted and bent while passing
through the thin material.
She
shook her head at him sadly. "I can't wear those. They're too thin, not to
mention two sizes to big."
"Not
for you, for me. The man that sold them to me said they are almost fully
resistant to any magic."
She
crossed her arms over her chest nervously, "Brinson…I…"
"Shh…don't
be afraid. I won't hurt you, and these won't let you hurt me," he said as
he pulled them on.
At first she feared it would
be like Gravitt's touch… cold and unfeeling…something that made demands
and only took. But it wasn't…
It wasn't anything like that.
She leaned back on Brinson again and felt two fingers brush against her neck.
She winced, wondering what had happened to him. Apparently it was nothing for
then he put the back of his hand on her cheek. She turned around and faced him,
tears in her eyes. "You can touch me!"
His
smile was faint, as he held up his hands. "Yes, but only with these…and I
still can feel a faint tingle, although nothing too…bad."
She
kneeled in front of him and whispered, "Touch my face. Touch my face like you
would kiss me."
She
closed her eyes and felt him do as she asked; a tender sweep of her cheek, then
a touch of two fingers to her lips, and pushed opened her mouth to brush against
her tongue. The soft gloves then moved to touch ever inch of her face, as if
tracing the lines of her life. She shivered in a strange kind of excitement, and
heard him give a small whimper in return.
Opening
her eyes she looked at him in wonder; he seemed so sad, yet ecstatic at the same
time. Putting his hands tenderly on her arms, he leaned her back, helping her to
lie down on the dry hay next to him. He crouched over her, kissing her with his
fingers again, and then trailing them, still moist from her mouth, down onto her
neck.
Again
his hand found her face, and she felt it trembling ever so slightly. Another
touch to her lips, and then he whispered, "Sabre…oh Sabre…I love you…"
She smiled up at him, seeing
his eyes bright and wide, and then taking the hand from her face she gripped it
and wove her fingers around his. He kissed their hands, still bound together,
and then leaned over her again. Still keeping their hands knotted, she felt him
slowly pull on her shirt with his free hand until it came free of her belted
riding breeches. She looked down
and watched with an almost worried anticipation as he fought with the lowest
button on it, then the next few, and finally the top one.
She
raised her head up, watching in wonder as his fingertips ambled along her
abdomen; the silken gloves just exciting her more. She fell back again, letting
him support her, as his hand began to gain more confidence in its quest. It was
like nothing she had felt before—as if his touch was burning her, waking her
mind and commanding her at the same time. His breath was ragged as it
escaped his lips, and his hands shook even more, but laid her palm on his cheek
to tell him it was all right.
Just as his
silken-covered fingers dared to roam higher, a sudden ruckus from behind jerked
them both erect. Hoof beats, heavy ones, and they were getting closer. Sabre
pulled herself to sit up fully as she tried to close her blouse with her hands
and hide the flush in her face. Brinson was staring at her, seeming both
mesmerized and desperate as his attention was torn between her and the
approaching horse. The source came closer and the animal stopped only a few feet
from them. She
knew who it was without having to look—only one enormous beast made such
noise, and dragged a foot when he cantered. She swallowed and tried to shake the
strange dizziness from her head as Brinson touched the back of her neck one last
time.
Gravitt glared at them as he
let his mount step forward and stretch its neck down to a small pile of hay near
them. The huge man growled, "Well, one of you get over here and take this brat
off my hands and stable the idiot horse."
Sabre
stood up, and let a sigh of relief escape her lips as Gravitt slid the sleeping
child from his lap into her eager hands. He was still fast asleep; probably the
work of Philip or Marcus. In the darkness she did her best to check him for
cuts, bruises or other afflictions, but could find none. Thank the Goddess…
Gravitt
dismounted, gruffly throwing the reins of the horse to Brinson. Sabre gave him a
gentle smile as thanks, but a second later she was regretting that small sign of
gratitude. Gravitt growled at her, "Put that child down, and get yourself back
over here. Quickly! I don't have all night."
Reluctantly,
she followed his orders. She couldn't tell what he wanted, but he didn't
seem to be angry. She placed her son on the hay bale she had been sitting on
earlier and returned to her master.
It
happened too fast for her to realize what he was going to do. Her hair was
pulled, and an elbow slammed into her stomach. She felt herself fall to the
ground and land on her knees. With a grunt, he grabbed her collar and hauled her
back to her feet, the breath that had been knocked from her lungs still fighting
to come back. Half a second later, his vicious hands pulled open her unbuttoned
shirt, and she felt something cold and metallic pressed between her breasts.
Whatever he does, I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
Gravitt
sneered down at her, twisting the blade of his knife against her skin. His voice
was quiet, but his words carried the volume far
louder than any scream.
"So you little slut, did you forget that I own you and that bastard child of
yours? Did you forget what I promised to do to any man that touches you without
my permission?! Or to you?!"
Sabre
kept her gaze focused far ahead of her master, ignoring his question and trying
to put out of her mind the fact that he just might kill her right there. She had
asked Brinson long ago to take care of Darian should anything ever happened to
her. At least that detail brought her some comfort, since pretending this
wasn't happening certainly wasn't doing much good.
Gravitt
growled at her, "I'm talking to you, you little whore! Answer my
question!"
She looked at him and said
calmly, the words coming from her heart rather than her mind. "Go ahead, kill
me, Gravitt. Get it over it. Quit playing your stupid games." I hate you. You can't even give me an honorable death.
He
snarled as he grabbed her hair again, this time licking the side of her neck. As
she flinched from the monster's dominating false affection, a glance behind
him yielded a glimpse of Brinson, who was watching the entire scene in horror,
obviously torn between terror and a desire to attack Gravitt.
The
cruel man ran his rough hand in the same spot that had just recently felt
Brinson's delicate touch. "Don't
you wish you do this? Don't you wish you could touch her the way I can? Do you
want to watch me tame her? She can be rather…wild. You might learn
something." She closed her eyes to steel herself as she saw his free hand
unbuckle the belt around his waist. Darian, please…stay asleep…
Brinson
looked like he was about to cry as he tepidly stepped forward, the horse
following him. His tone was a twisted staccato as he pleaded, "Gravitt, no.
Wait. It was my fault. I'll take the blame. Please."
Brinson…no…just
let him finish his bullying…
A
noise behind her stopped Gravitt--the sound of the bumbling gait of her son.
"Mommy!" He called as he approached the three adults. "Mommy! We went on
an adventure!"
Oh
Darian…no…
The
footsteps behind stopped. "Mommy? Are you playing again? Can I play, too?"
Gravitt
snarled as he sheathed the knife, releasing his brutal grip on her, and gave his
next command in a harsh whisper. "Cover yourself before your bastard sees you,
bitch!"
She
pulled her blouse together, straightened up, and turned to her son, "Oh, we
were just talking Darian. Come on, let's put Brutus away. Ok?"
Brinson
held the reins out to her, and kept his glare on Gravitt. She knew that look;
hatred was seeded in those delicate dark eyes, and it was an emotion that
frightened her coming from the quiet blonde man. Yes, Brinson was certainly
capable of being enraged, and their master knew just which buttons to press.
Her
friend spoke quietly, "Take it out on me, Gravitt. You shouldn't need to
beat up on a woman to get your thrills."
Gravitt
looked at her, "Get out of here and take your son!" She walked away, but
glanced back at her friend. She was only a few feet from them when she heard
their master laugh as he stopped as turned to take
out the rest of his aggression on Brinson. "How noble and chivalrous of you,
Loverboy! You want the blame? Do you think you're man enough to take it?
I'll give it to you in spades!"
Sabre
wanted to go back, or even just look back, but getting Darian out of the
crossfire was foremost in her mind. As he bounded happily around her, she
couldn't take her mind off the man that she loved, and who was out there
taking her lashes for her.
As
they walked into the well-lit stable (the glow globes common in the Guild were
used here, too) she quickly put the horse in its stall and tossed some hay over
the door. A yelp from outside brought her mind back to the reality of what was
happening just a few feet away. Darian looked up to her and asked, "Mommy,
what's Brinson doing?"
"He's
talking to Gravitt. We have to stay here. It's private." She spoke these
words solemnly, and prayed her son did not understand the tone.
"Ohh…like
secret?"
"Yes,"
she said quietly, petting the nose of Gravitt's enormous horse, who had been
aptly named Brutus. She grabbed a brush from a pile someone had carelessly left
on the floor near the animal's stall and went inside, after reminding Darian
not to follow her.
Hiding from her son on the
far side of the horse in the darkness, she pressed her face into his neck and
wept. Everything she had ever wanted had almost come to her that night, and now
in the distance she heard those dreams being broken again. Gravitt had almost
killed her; had almost raped her in front of Brinson and her…their…own
child. For what? Spite? What claim did he have on her feelings? He could own
her, but not her soul, her heart, and how they made her feel! And Darian? What
would have become of him if Gravitt had killed her? She wasn't so sure that
monster was going to let Brinson live through this, and that was her fault. What
would she do without him?
Brutus
either sensed her discomfort or was curious as to why the small human was
leaning against him and turned his head to nuzzle her. She scratched his withers
and he rubbed her again. It wasn't much comfort, but it was something. Oh
Brutus, you've got to kill him for us…throw him or something…please…
Darian's
voice called into the stall, "Mommy, are you done? Can we brush Matze next?"
It
took a moment for her to compose herself enough to answer him, and even then it
was strained. "I'm done, Darian. Let's go see if Brinson and Gravitt are
done talking. Then we can look in on Matze"
"Ok
Mommy."
She
climbed under the horse's neck and gave him one final pat before she left him
with his hay. Lifting Darian up into her arms brought her some joy, but she
still dreaded having to step outside of the stable. Keeping her son turned from
what was going on behind him, she tried to engage him in conversation, hoping
that from the door she could at least see what was happening to her friend.
Gazing into the distance as
she talked to her son, she saw that Gravitt was using more of his intimidation
tactics than his abuse ones; she almost breathed a sigh of relief as she watched
Brinson be berated, rather than beaten. She saw their master take something from
him—she guessed it to be the gloves—and shake them in his face.
Then, with a dry mouth, she asked her son, "So tell me about the place
you went to."
"It was big. And metal. And it smelled funny."
"Funny, how?"
"Like old and rusty and stuff."
"Oh. What did you do there?"
"I got to walk around. I didn't have to sleep
until we came back."
"Were Philip and Marcus all right?"
"Yeah. But they weren't happy."
"Why not? Did they tell you?"
"No, but I think it was because of the Bird Man."
"The Bird Man?"
"He looked like a bird. And he smelled funny,
too."
She stopped talking and forced the last of the tears down
her throat as the conversation in the distance abruptly ended. Suddenly, Gravitt
grasped Brinson's shirt, swiftly driving his
knee into the other's groin with all the strength he could muster. The smaller
man was lifted several inches into the air by the impact as his breath was
pushed from his lungs in surprise, his eyes popping open in shock and agony.
Darian interrupted her instinct to run towards him, "I
gotta ask something, Mommy."
She nodded, still watching her best friend, her lover,
writhe on the ground in pain as her own heart broke.
"Gravitt told me a secret today. He told me that I am his
nephew. What does that mean, Mommy?"
The question caught her off guard, and as a curt response
formed on her lips, Gravitt turned to look directly at her and a sinister smile
crossed his lips as if to say that he was glad she had seen what he had just
done. You are going to lie to your own
child and then use him as part of this?! I swore I'd never claim you as blood,
and I will keep that promise!! Still, she had to find an answer to satisfy
her son. "It means…it means just
that he is looking out for you, that's all."
"Oh. Then why is it a secret?"
"Maybe because people in Vane are a little strange."
"Oh. I kinda like it here. Its very pretty."
"Yes, it is."
She shook her head
as she watched Gravitt laughing callously as he relished the sight of Brinson
curled up in unspeakable pain. Then, carrying on as if nothing had
happened, the huge man turned back to him and said, purposely keeping his voice
loud enough for her to hear, "I expect you at that reception tomorrow,
Brinson. See if that engineer girl will go with you—she seemed to like you and
could prove quite useful. We are moving ahead with the plan and I'll need
your…expertise."
Darian either heard the angry words from outside or sensed
her distress and started asking, "Mommy? Mommy? Mommy are you mad at me? I
didn't wanna go."
She choked on her words as Gravitt finally left, wandering
in the direction of the city gates. "I'm not mad, Darian." Not at you,
anyway.
Clutching
her son tightly to her side, she ran to Brinson the second Gravitt left her line
of sight. He had managed to sit himself up, but was clearly still in misery.
Although she couldn't know what it felt like, she did her best to sympathize.
"I'm
sorry," was all he said as he looked up towards her, but didn't meet her
eyes.
"No,
no need to be sorry."
Darian
looked between the two of them, confused and anxious to get away from the
tension. "Mommy, put me down."
She
set him on his feet and watched as he walked a few yards from them, looking sad
and bored until a lightning bug flew by, giving the boy an innocent distraction
from the reality of malice in the world around him.
Under normal circumstances
she would have given a motherly smile at her son, but her attention at the
moment was focused on the man who sat on the ground in front of her, taking in
short, shuddering gasps of air. She stooped down to him and saw his jaw
clenching in frustration. She knew what he was thinking…after all this time,
there was some way, and while it wasn't perfect, it did work. Maybe they would
find a way, a real one in here Vane. In the meantime, they could at least touch,
but it had been too short—far too short.
She
whispered his name, "Brinson…"
He
just shook his head, and repeated, "I'm sorry."
She
put her hand on his face and whispered into his ear, "I love you." I want
to be with you…even if it has to be like that… "Thank you, for
trying."
He
smiled at her, with a small wisp of that soft, shy smile he usually wore, but
she knew he was troubled. With a sigh he whispered, "I love you, too. You know
that."
Darian
followed his prey and as it flew off, leapt between the two adults. He pulled at
Sabre's still lose shirttail and said with a pout, "Mommy! I'm hungry."
"Gravitt
didn't feed you?"
"No
Mommy."
Rage filled her eyes, and she
saw Brinson shake his head in disgust as he painfully hauled himself to his
feet, leaning forward slightly as though afraid, or unable, to stand straight.
She put on a smile for Darian as she said, "Then we need to find you something
to eat, don't we?"
Brinson
reached into his pocket and handed her some silver. "Get him some dinner and
I'll meet you back at the Guild." His eyes softened, "Besides, I have that
surprise to give him."
Darian
jumped excitedly, his thick dark-auburn hair bouncing with him. "A surprise
for me? What is it?"
The
blonde Tribal laughed, "You'll see. But only if you're a good boy for
Mommy."
"I
will be! I promise Brinson! I promise!"
Sabre
smiled at him again as her hand brushed his arm, "See you soon."
******
The
Festival's market yielded a healthy meal for Darian, and after having to drag
him away from a crowd watching an acting troupe, Sabre headed back to the Guild
to finally go to bed after a completely exhausting day. The entrance to the
Manor was as busy as it ever was, as if the City of Vane never went to sleep.
Mages, visitors, students and servants were bustling around, but fortunately no
one bothered her as she led Darian back to their room with promises of returning
to the festivities tomorrow. I wish I had his energy…and this being tired
all the time is getting old…
She turned the key in the lock of the door, and held Darian
back as she instinctively checked the room for intruders. Finding none, she let
him in, and then followed. Her son made a dash for his favorite spot—the large
windows where he could see the world of Vane rush around below. Before she could
shut the door, Brinson appeared. He was holding the basket from before and
seemed to be in a better condition that when she had left him by the stables.
She whispered, as she quickly shut the door, "Where's
Gravitt?" We don't need a repeat of earlier…
"Out. I heard him leave ten minutes ago. Did you get him
something to eat?" He asked, gesturing towards her son.
At the sound of the familiar voice, Darian ran from his
perch to the man, interrupting the conversation. "Brinson! Where's my
surprise? I've been good!"
He smiled at the boy, "You'll get it when you get into
bed."
Sabre nodded to her friend in response, and turned to her
son, who had begun yanking on her sleeve. When Darian had her attention, he
stood upon his tiptoes, and motioned for her to lean over. She did so, and he
began whispering into her ear. With
a nod she laughed and pointed to the narrow door on the room's far wall.
"Go ahead, Darian, I showed you how the chair works."
With that he scampered off to the bathroom, tugging at the rope that held
his trousers snug to his waist.
Brinson gave a wane smile as the boy left them and reached
for Sabre's hand. "I'm sorry."
"You keep saying that, and I keep telling you it's not
necessary." She looked at him tenderly, seeing the sadness in his eyes
magnified by his glasses. "You know how I feel about you. You know that I love
you. Maybe someday we can try again, but for now, we at least have that."
"Sabre…it's not the 'at least' part..." He
paused as he took his glasses off, and then wiped his eyes. "It's
everything." He hesitated for only a moment, as he replaced the spectacles.
"I want…and call me greedy for this, I don't care…I just want one night
with you. No Gravitt. Just us. I just want to brush your hair, and watch you
dance. I…thought we might have that here—in Vane. But I guess we can't.
Gravitt still controls us, no matter how laid back he's pretending to be."
She touched a hand to his cheek. Oh Brinson, you
romantic idiot, you wonderful romantic
idiot…
He whispered then (in their native language so if Darian
did manage to catch some of it, he certainly wouldn't understand) and his tone
grew more hateful and distraught than she had ever heard. "It's not fair,
dammit! It's just not fair! I want to kill that bastard in his sleep! I want
to hear him scream in agony for everything he's ever done to you!
For all the pain he's caused, all the lives he's taken!
Just because he has the power doesn't mean he has the right to do what
he's done to us.... I want him to
know that just because he's bigger than us and immune to our only defense
doesn't mean that he can do—do what he does to you! You're not his slave!
You're not his whore! You're not any of those other horrible things he calls
you! You're—" His voice cracked as he reached for her hands, "You're
the woman I love, and to whom I have pledged my affections. Goddess, I want to
marry you, Sabre! But even if I was allowed to, I fear I am a failure by the
very canons we were raised under! I cannot even protect you, and that is the
foremost duty of a Tribesman to his wife!"
She folded her arms around his skinny waist, letting him
bury his face into her shoulder. Her gloved hands rubbed his back soothingly as
she whispered, "Brinson…I love you, too. You have been the only friend
I've ever known, and you have protected me, and cared for me. Remember the
time I told Gravitt I was pregnant and he beat me so badly I couldn't move?
You carried me to my room and took care of me. And then, when Darian was born,
you were right there. I was so scared. I didn't know what was happening, but
you got me through it. You took up my duties for how many weeks? Even though it
meant your doing the job of two, and not once did you complain or even let me
repay you for it!" She lifted his chin off her shoulder and brushed the drying
tears with her leathered fingers, "You've done more for me than anyone else
ever has, my love. As far as I am concerned, I share my life with you, Gravitt
or no Gravitt."
The noise of Darian giggling as he ran the water in the
bathroom broke the moment and allowed Brinson to compose himself. She touched
his face as he straightened up, but he still held onto her as the boy came back
into the room.
"Time for bed, Darian." She said as she released
herself from Brinson's embrace.
The child hustled over to the cot that was set-up for him
and took his shoes off. "Ok. Then I get my surprise, right?"
"Right," Sabre said as she put him on the bed and
pulled his faded and patched pants off. Even his shorts have holes in
them…I need to buy him some new clothes…
Darian slid his shirt over his head and handed to her.
"It's hot. I just want my shorts."
She nodded as he laid down into the bed and she tugged the
covers up on him. Brinson stood behind her as he reached into his shirt and
produced the dog puppet. "Woof!" He said as he made the toy open its mouth.
The child squealed in delight as he reached for the gift.
"A puppy! Is he for me? Oh Brinson! Thank you!"
"You're welcome," the man responded, a genuine smile
growing on his thin lips. "What are you going to name him?"
Darian thought for a minute. "Misha!"
Sabre smiled as her son used one of the few words of her
true language she had taught him; it was one of their secrets. Brinson gave her
a soft look, "He knows what that means?"
"I had to tell him, since we keep using it."
Darian nodded enthusiastically as he pet his new friend.
"Mommy says it's a secret." The boy looked between them, "But can I tell
Brinson?"
"I think he already—"
Brinson cut her off, as
he kneeled down, and asked in a low, overly curious voice. "What does it mean,
Darian?"
Darian looked around
suspiciously before giving the answer in a conspiratorial whisper. "Love."
"Oh, but there's a secret about it, too. Do you know
what that is?"
Darian shook his head and his dark eyes widened in
anticipation.
"If you say Misha before the name of someone you care
about a lot, it means 'my love'—but you only use that for very special
people."
Darian smiled as he snuggled his toy, and as the blonde man
stood up, he asked: "Brinson, you gonna sing for me?"
Sabre saw her friend's face melt and supplied the words
for him, "He's not feeling well tonight, so say good night and you'll see
him in the morning."
"Good night! Misha Brinson!"
Sabre smiled at the innocent misuse of the word, and walked
her friend to the door. Poking him playfully on the chest, she repeated what her
son had said, which returned the quiet smile to Brinson's lips.
She watched with an affectionate melancholy as he walked
the short distance to his own quarters. Once
she was sure he was in his room, she resigned herself to the fact that she was
exhausted, and lay down, but she couldn't sleep. Even though the bed was soft,
and the room was warm and dark, her mind kept repeating what Brinson had just
said. 'I want to marry you, Sabre…' Those were words she had never
expected to hear, ever. Even her parents had told her she would never be able to
bring them honor by marrying. It was not a happy memory, but it surfaced, and no
simple shake of the head could stop it from reminding her of what she truly
was…
******
Sabre ran into her
family's tent crying. Even at only eight years old, she had learned the hard
way that she was 'different' and hated it. She hated hurting people, she
hated the looks she got, and the whispers she heard whenever she was near.
But most of all, right now, she hated her brother.
She hadn't gone more than a few feet into the cool shadows of the large
tent before she felt her mother's hand touch her shoulder and looked up at the
woman. She envied her mother. She was so beautiful. She had the prettiest yellow
hair, and she could touch people without hurting them.
"What happened, Sabre?"
"Mama, what does 'freak' mean?"
The response was stronger and far more bitter than she had
expected. "Where did you hear that, my daughter?"
"Ashu called me that! He told me to run away because I
was a freak. He said I wasn't fit to share his name!"
Her mother looked horrified as she pulled the girl
carefully, but securely into her embrace. "Why did he say these things, Sabre?
What happened?"
The words came out in a single breath. "Kuna and Ashu
were playing and I wanted to play too and they wouldn't let me so I got mad at
Ashu and I wanted to hit him and Kuna grabbed my arm and he fell down!"
She paused, taking in a deep breath.
"He was awful still."
"But he's okay, right?"
She nodded, her eyes suddenly wide in worry over how her
mother would respond to her having hurt the other child.
Her voice was muted as she replied; "Yes Mama, he woke up when Ashu
shook him, but Ashu screamed at me and called me a freak and told me-- "
Her mother seemed to give a brief sigh of relief, then
looked at her sternly, cutting off the rest of the harried sentence. "Ashu may
make you mad, and say things he shouldn't, but you shouldn't hit him, or
anyone else. And you've got to be
more careful. You know that."
Still crying, she said angrily, "He's mean!"
"He's your brother, Sabre. He may make you angry and
make you want to hit him, but someday you'll be grateful for him.
Besides, I imagine you've done the same thing to him."
Sabre ignored her mother's gentle chiding.
"But I just wanted to play and I hurt Kuna!"
"I'm sure Kuna will be fine, and Kinashua will get a
talking to when he gets home."
"I guess….. but I still.."
Her voice fell silent as she saw the tent's entry flap slowly pull open
behind her mother's back.
Dark eyes peeked through the dimly lit home, and Sabre
stopped crying and started chanting, "You're gonna get in trouble! You're
gonna get in trouble for not letting me play with you!"
Her mother didn't even have to turn around. She just said
sharply, "Kinashua, come here right this minute and sit down!"
He did so, and Sabre noticed he looked rather sad and more
than a little fearful. Ohhh, He's gonna
get a spanking!
"Tell me what happened."
They both started to speak at the same time, but their
mother held a hand up to Sabre. "I've heard your version. It's his
turn."
Her brother rubbed his arms nervously. "We were
playing—me and Kuna—and well, you know how Sabre can be. She just walked up
and tried to take over, like she always does. I didn't want to get shocked or
hurt again so I told her to leave."
Sabre interrupted, "Kuna wanted to let me play! Kuna is
nice! You should be more like him!"
Her mother nodded to her, interrupting any response her
twin could have made. "Perhaps, but he's the only brother you have and you
have to take him for who he is, just as he needs to do the same for you.
You are his only sister, you know."
The words seemed to burst out from the small boy.
"She's a freak, Mama! She's going to kill someone one of these
days! Everyone knows that!"
Anger flashed in the woman's eyes as she stared at her
son in disbelief, "Where did you hear such a thing, Kinashua?!"
He shrunk back at her tone, but didn't respond.
Sabre noticed a hint of desperation in her mother's voice
as she grabbed the boy's arm. "Tell me!"
He stammered, "Some of the elders of the tribe. They
didn't see me but I heard them. They
told Daddy he should get rid of her." He paused. "Daddy said no."
Sabre knew her mother was fighting tears as she asked her
son, "Do you honestly believe what you have just said about your sister?"
"I…I didn't, I mean…."
Sabre stared at her brother. She knew she was going to cry
again. She could taste the tears.
"You are also Gifted, Kinashua. Does that make you a
freak as well?"
He considered a moment,
then looked at Sabre sadly, and shook his head. "I… I don't think so.
Am I?"
Ignoring his question, Mama continued; "You two are going
to bring great pride to our name and to our tribe. Both of you are special in
your own right, and you must embrace these Gifts you have been granted to
succeed! I can't see how you can do this when you can't even be in the same
camp without staring a fight, let alone if you think of your sister as less than
your equal!"
Ashu lowered his head as their mother took her knife off
her belt, balancing it in her hand carefully for a moment. "Sabre, I want you
to do something for me. Remember the Mage we brought you to last year? Well, he
said that you might be able to heal with your gift. I want you to try doing
that, all right?"
Through some sniffles, "Yes, Mama."
Sabre watched in amazement as her mother pressed the
blade's tip into her forearm and, with a firm grimace, pulled it downward,
slicing deeply through her tanned skin. The
blade cut quickly, leaving a slim yet bloody incision.
She ignored the blood that began to stream down her arm.
"I want you to think happy thoughts, Sabre. Think about when we go
riding. Think about when Ashu tickles you.
About how you feel when one of us hugs you and tells you how much we love
you."
Sabre smiled, memories of happy moments coming back, and
she felt her tears drying up.
"Good girl. Now, when you are ready, touch my arm. Keep
thinking those happy thoughts. Concentrate on that feeling. Hold your talent
back. Now let just a little of it out, not too much, now."
Slipping the gloves off, she did as she was told, doing her
best to focus and grip the energy she felt rise within her. It was hard, and it
felt funny way down deep inside her. She
could feel the sweat as it began to drip down her forehead. She closed her eyes
in tight meditation; trying to recall the happy rhymes and stories her mother
had told her. She was going to do this right. She was going to do something
good. And the tingle she felt as
her fingers were pressed against her mother's arm told her she was doing it.
She heard Ashu gasp and then her mother pulled away from
her. "Sabre, open your eyes! Sabre look!"
She did. She had done something good! The cut was gone, not
even a scar remained to mark where it had been. Her voice was soft and filled with wonder: "That hurt a
little bit."
"Magic can hurt when you use it and don't know much
about it. You will have to be careful and work awfully hard, but I'm very
proud of you, Sabre."
Ashu smiled at her, "I am too." His dark eyes looked
off in the distance as he said, "I'm sorry, Sabre."
"Me too, Ashu."
She looked up at their mother. She was smiling, but that
changed too quickly. Another figure appeared behind them and her mother got up
in response to some unseen signal or expression. A few hushed words passed
between their parents and the two adults stepped outside and walked around to
the back of the tent. She could see their shadows through the heavy fabric and
her mother was gesturing wildly and holding an angry tone, but she was too far
away to hear what was being said.
Ashu tapped her on the shoulder. "I hate it when they
fight."
"They are fighting about me, aren't they?" Sabre
asked as she pulled her gloves back on.
He shrugged as he traced a finger in the dirt floor. "You
know I really am sorry, Sabre. I didn't mean what I said. I was scared. I
didn't like seeing Kuna like that. He's my best friend."
She nodded sadly, "I was scared I had really hurt him,
Ashu. He's my friend, too."
His voice grew playful as he hesitated for an instant, then
began teasing her, "I think you like him."
She scowled at him, "No way."
"I think you're going to marry him!"
She threw some dirt from the cleared earth near the fire at
him, "Shut up, Ashu!"
He laughed and tossed a tuft of grass back at her. "Kissy
kissy! Sabre and Kuna!"
Sabre glanced back at the two shadows outside the tent. She
heard muffled crying and watched as her father tried to comfort her mother with
his embrace. Moving closer to the side where they were at, she listened to what
they were saying. She motioned for Ashu to join her, and he did.
"Lycasa…of course I told them no! Sabre is our child,
and just like every other child she was created out of love! She has every right
to live among our people. But we have to accept that she will…just have a
different life than most of us."
Her mother was still crying as she spoke. "She could be
taught—she could be taught to help people instead of hurting them."
"Perhaps, but we don't have a trained mage around to do
that. You know she can never marry or have children."
"What if we took them to Vane? Rauchic—that mage—he
said they might know what to do."
"That is a long trip. It would have to be in the
summer…but my love, I don't know if they would help. Everything
I've heard about that place says they don't take kindly to outsiders. They
look down upon people like us."
"Our children are famous for their Gifts! Tribes and
mages from all over the Prairie come to see them! Surely someone in Vane has
heard of them."
"We can't decide this right now."
The words turned to silence as the adults just held each
other in the shade of the tent. Sabre shook her head. She wanted to cry, too.
Ashu's teasing was bothersome, but that wasn't what had hurt her. She had
heard her father say that she could never get married, and that was one of the
many things that was expected of all of her people. It was something sacred, and
something she couldn't ever have.
Ashu looked at her gently, "Why are you sad, Sabre? I
said I was sorry."
"No, Ashu, you were right. I am not fit to share your
name. Daddy said I could never get married. Just because I could heal that cut
doesn't mean that I am cured. Maybe I should run away."
"No you shouldn't, Sabre! When you were lost in the
woods Mama and Daddy were so scared!" He leaned over to her and whispered,
"Daddy even cried! He didn't think I saw him, but I did."
Sabre sniffled as she shook her head, the bright hair atop
it swishing tiredly, "But Ashu, I'm never going to be like everyone else.
I'm never going to be normal. I'm never going to get married. I'm never
going to make Mama and Daddy proud." She paused, and then sobbed, "I'm
never going to live up to my name or our family's name!"
She was surprised with she felt his arms wrap around her,
but still cried into his shoulder. He pat her on the back and said gently,
"Yes you will, Sabre. I know you will." He pushed her up, "I wanna show you something."
She lifted her head and looked at him in puzzlement.
"What do you want to show me?"
He just smiled, his dark eyes calling her to trust him.
"Come with me."
Sabre wiped her face and followed him out of the tent. Ashu
led her to a tall tree on the edge of their camp. It stretched high above their
heads and gave off a sweet smell from the yellow flowers that speckled the
boughs.
"Daddy showed me this," the boy said as he picked
something off the bark and held it to her. "He said that this is what Mama's
name means."
Sabre looked at what he had taken from the tree—it was a
long, skinny bug with hairs that stuck out everywhere. "Ew, Ashu! That's
gross!"
"No, it's a special bug. It's called a
caterpillar." Still holding the bit of bark he picked a leaf off one of the
lower branches and turned it over for her. "See that white thing? They go into
those and they sleep and when they come out they turn into butterflies."
"Really?" She asked in wonder.
"Really," he said with authority. "See, this is what
Mama's name means—caterpillar; hidden beauty." He looked at her, a warm,
genuine smile forming on his lips as she took the bug from him. "Daddy said
when she was little she looked more like a boy than a girl. Now he says she is
the most beautiful woman in the Stadius Zone. He said that men from a dozen
other tribes tried to marry her, but she didn't want them. She wanted to marry
him. He said that he is very lucky to have captured his caterpillar."
Sabre smiled at him, showing that same charismatic smile as
the bug crawled between her fingers. Ashu was so smart, and Daddy told him all
the special things, probably because he was a boy. "That's so sweet."
"Yeah, it is." He put his hand next to hers and let the
bug crawl back onto it, then set it back on the tree. "You know, I think
you're a like a caterpillar, too. I think someday you're going to grow up
and be something really special."
******
A noise from outside Sabre's room called her attention to
the door, and she jumped off the bed to open it, praying it wasn't Gravitt
looking for someone to beat on. Carefully hiding herself, she peeked out and saw
three very mismatched men just down the hall. The biggest one was incredibly
drunk; she could tell that by his loud and slurred words and wild gestures at
the other two. The one dressed in a
wizard's robe knocked on the door, while the light haired one wearing simple
traveling clothes tried to support his intoxicated companion. The magician's
hair was soaking wet, and he didn't look very happy. He banged on the door
again. Once. Twice. Finally it opened and a blonde woman came out wearing a
nightgown. There was a discussion in quiet tones, until the drunk piped up,
"Jettica…I know why now! She cheated on him! That's what its about!"
The mage looked even more annoyed, and with a cross of his
fingers knocked the big man out with some kind of sleep spell. The woman stepped
into the hall as the two men dragged the drunk inside, and then followed,
swearing out loud at the lot of them.
Sabre shook her head in disgust at the entire display and
turned around to see that Darian was starting to stir, awakened by the idiots in
the hallway. His eyes didn't open, but the small child tossed. Knowing that if
he woke up he would probably not want to fall back asleep, she sat on his bed,
facing him, and away from the door. A tune formed on her lips; one that had been
sung across the Prairie for generations. She found the words and began:
Past far distant hills,
and 'ore silent fields
The Goddess will sigh,
sending the gift that she wields.
With a gift of her
love, her grace and her song
She reminds us of hope,
and our hearts grow strong.
Sleep my sweet dove,
'O sleep my bold hawk
And dream of the wind,
as it sighs past the rock.
Dream of the love, I
have for my child
Dream of a world, both gentle and wild.
The boy had returned to his
deep slumber before she even began the second verse, giving her a chance to just
admire him. As she finished the song, a soft, yet slightly off key tenor voice
behind her joined in on the last line. Startled, she jumped up off the cot and
turned around, her hand instinctively reaching for her sword on her back, but it
was not there. Did I leave the door open?
How careless! Dammit! I am not fit to be a mother!
Backlit by the lamps from
the hall, she began to size up the man standing there. The strange magical
lighting outlined his form and prevented her from making out his features, but
she decided even bare handed he would not be much of a match.
A
few inches shorter than Brinson, but not as skinny…he smells like ale…he
might be drunk….and he wears the robe of a Vanetian. He's probably as weak
as a child, but he might be able to cast a spell on me...
Finally, after she had
stared at him for a long moment he spoke. "Your singing is lovely. I'm sorry
if I frightened you. I know that song, but it has been years since I have heard
it."
"Thank you. My mother
used to sing it to me," she said as she let a glove fall to the floor—just
in case.
Stepping only slightly
into the room, he didn't seem all too threatening, but in the darkness, and
with Darian, she was not taking any chances. "You are from the Prairie Tribes,
then? I know some of the language."
"Yes. It sounds like you
know a lot of the language to sing that song." Keep your guard up...
"Maybe I do. I have
studied many subjects."
Sabre snorted at his
arrogance. "Of course you have. Now, may I ask who you are, or if you can step
back into the light so I can see for myself?"
His tone was cocky--almost
put on--and she didn't like it. "Am I scaring you?"
"No. Nosey men don't
scare me—especially ones short enough for me to smack in the face.
Tell me, do you make it a habit of walking uninvited into women's
bedrooms? Or did you just decide to
go slumming tonight?"
He laughed. "Touché. As
fast as ever with that razor wit of yours, Sabre."
She stopped. She had not
told this man her name. Who was he? Had he been following her? Her curiosity was
piqued. "How do you know who I am?"
"It was just a guess.
You know, the Prairie Tribes have always fascinated me. Would you be so kind as
to indulge me in answering a few simple questions?"
"That's a new way to
get a girl's attention. My son is trying to sleep. Can we take this discussion
somewhere else?" She picked the glove up and pulled it back on. She could just
hit him if she had to; he seemed to be more idiot than threat.
The man stepped aside and
motioned for her to lead him out the door.
As she began to walk past him the light of the hall lit fully on his face
and she gasped, and then gawked at him. He looks just like…Daddy, but with
short hair. Ashu? No, it couldn't be; Ashu would never come here. He would never dress like this man. He
smiled softly at her, his hand reaching up to push his wet hair back into place
as he looked back at her. Those
eyes… large, dark, sad eyes…there was no mistaking him now. "Ashu?" she
whispered.
"Yes, Sabre. It's
me," was the simple response.
She
jumped forward, forgetting her deadly Gift for the first time in years as she
threw her arms around him. "You're ARE alive!
I knew it! I could feel
it!"
As
he embraced her, she ran her fingers through his wet hair, searching for
something—something very important. The questions spun out of her in
excitement. "Your colors? Where are they? What are you doing in Vane? Why are
you dressed like this?"
He gave a sad smile as he
suddenly pulled back, and she saw him frown at someone, or something, down the
hallway over her shoulder. Ashu took her hand and started to lead her in the
opposite direction from whatever was distracting him. "I live here. Come on;
let's go to my room. We have a lot to talk about."
She
glanced back through the open door at Darian's peaceful form and closed it
silently. Deciding that he wouldn't notice if she was gone for a few hours,
she nodded to her brother. "All right."
******
Although
Ashu's room was just down the hall from hers, it was certainly of a higher
caliber than even the special quarters she had been given. The doors to the
suite itself were covered in gold leaf proclaiming the angelic symbol of the
House of Ausa. She looked at him and teased, "Either you're somebody
important or you're sleeping with somebody that is!"
He
glared at her, in almost a way that told he was offended, but then shook
his head and smiled as he pushed the door open. Inside was a parlor,
with two rooms flared off of it. The large fireplace on the far wall was already
burning, and the lamps of the room were lit. Apparently Ashu had people who did
things like that for him. Maybe he is important after all. He pointed to
the door on the right. "This way."
Sabre stared in amazement
at the size of the bedroom alone. It was nearly twice the size of the one she
had been given, and exquisitely furnished. A huge bed—she wondered exactly how
many people could sleep in it—rested against one wall with its dark curtains
pulled back. The sitting area held two couches and as twice as many chairs, some
of which her brother was obviously using as his closet, although a large
wardrobe could be seen next to the bed, looking oddly empty.
Boxes were open and spewing papers, clothes, books and other things; she
didn't even notice the desk until she saw its legs peeking out under its stack
of books. He has turned into a slob.
Looking
on the walls she saw some pieces of artwork; mostly landscapes, but the object
hanging above the fireplace caught her attention. It was a weapon of superb
quality--a shining metal crossbow.
"So, what do you
think? Lots of space for just me." He said as he closed the door behind them.
"Yes. I hope you
clean it sometime, though. I'm almost afraid to walk across the floor."
"I know it's a
mess, but I just moved."
"Mess…dear Brother
is an understatement."
The mage laughed and
then wrinkled his nose as he raised his sleeve and sniffed himself. "Give me a
minute, Sabre. I want to change out of this—I reek of beer."
"I noticed. I don't
mind. Who cares that you were drinking? Though I think your coordination might
need some work. I think the point is to get it 'inside' you?"
"I do, and I wasn't
drinking. That half-wit Kyle was so drunk that he poured his pitcher over my
head, and thought it was hilarious! He said I wasn't celebrating enough. Like
I had any thing to…" He shut his mouth with an almost audible 'snap' as
he pulled the robe and then his shirt off. When he turned around, Sabre noticed
some lash-like scars on his back, nothing large, but still enough to raise her
suspicions. Had these people here in Vane hurt him? Did they pound and thrash
their students to teach them their lessons?
Ashu was ignoring her
stares and continued talking as he took his shoes off, "Anyway, Alex and I had
to drag him out of there once the brawl started, and he kept trying to run back
into it. I've never known anyone who enjoys a good bar fight as much as Kyle.
Anyway, his wife was not happy with any of us. Now give me a minute to wash some
of this off and change clothes." He picked a clean (she hoped) shirt and a
towel off the floor and disappeared behind a small door at the far end of the
room.
The names are familiar.
I've heard them before, several times, but where? Sabre thought to herself as
she walked to the fireplace and stared at the weapon that had commanded her
attention when she first entered the room. Examining it closely she saw it was
crafted entirely out of white gold, with some sort of clear crystal accenting
the metalwork. As the flames from below flickered, the crystals in the bow
picked them up, causing the whole thing to glow in an eerie way. Cautiously, she
reached a hand to touch it, and found even through her gloves there was some
sort of magical sensation.
He came out from the
bathroom, his hair slicked back and dripping wet. As he pulled on the fresh
shirt he noticed her infatuation with the crossbow. "Magnificent, isn't
it?"
"Yes. Where did you
get it?"
"I found it. I
thought about giving it to Alex as a souvenir, but well, I really like the
thing. Besides, he can't shoot it as well as I can."
Sabre's
brow furrowed in thought. Yes, the names are dreadfully familiar. She
turned to him and said, "Alex and Kyle? As
in the Heroes? I had heard they were here. I didn't realize you knew them so
well, Ashu."
"Heh, yeah I know
them all pretty well." He hesitated before finishing, the smile on his face
changing. "Sometimes maybe too well."
He was smirking in a
way she couldn't read, but when he brushed his hair up, something
clicked…the portraits in the taverns…they weren't exact, but…. and the
songs…the songs about the Heroes…and the magicians in the group, suddenly a
light went off within her head.
He winked at her,
clearly reading her statement. "I… I had to change my name when I came here,
Sabre. They call me Nash, now, I guess that's all I've been known as for a
long time."
She whispered in
disbelief, "Nash of Vane? The Hero?"
He grinned, "That's
me, for better or for worse. And the new Premier of the Guild, effective
Saturday."
Sabre nearly leapt into
the air in excitement as she hugged him again. Her brother was not only one of
the Heroes, but he had succeeding in proving his adulthood according to the
customs of the tribes; he had lived up to his name. Such an event would have
brought on a celebration within the Tribe, and he would have been allowed to
marry. She silently prayed her parents knew this; it would bring them much joy,
even from beyond death. "Oh, Ashu! I always knew you would fulfill your name!
I knew it! I'm so proud! Mother and Father would be, too!"
"I….
I don't know, Sabre. I've done a lot of things that I'm ashamed of."
She
pulled at him, trying to resist the temptation to embrace him again. "I want
to hear everything! But not here, I saw some kind of garden outside from my
room's window…with a pool and everything. Please, let's go there? These
walls are starting to drive me insane."
******
Rays from the Blue Star
waltzed upon the water, giving Sabre and Ashu just enough light to relax by.
Seated on a bench next to him, he kept her enthralled with his story of how he
had gotten out of the tent that night by calling the storms,
their downpour extinguishing the last of the fires that had consumed the tents
and legacy of their tribe. Then, in
a soft voice, he spoke of how
he had followed their mother's map to Vane. He told her of his studies at the
Guild, how he came to apprentice under the last Premier, his adventure and his
latest appointment.
He included the bad times—those which were left out of the songs and stories
she had heard—the times when he'd let himself fall under the dark master's
sway and let his selfishness and weakness rule his life. It was clear that he was not proud of those times, but she
knew that he had learned from them. She smiled as he bragged about his years
here at the Guild and his adventure; he had certainly earned the right to.
Finally, after an hour of speaking of himself, he turned to her as he blushed,
"Sorry, I tend to ramble."
"No, it's a wonderful
story. She smiled as she gave him a
gentle nudge; "And it's nice to see that some things haven't changed."
She paused for a moment, though not enough for him to respond in.
" Just one question, no one here knows who you really are? The Storm
Child of the Prairie?"
"No, I couldn't even keep
my name, I'd have been kicked out at best if they'd known who I really was.
But that is changing Sabre. They, we… aren't going to be the
self-righteous, elitist city Vane used to be. We're going to welcome everyone,
I've already seen it start, and with Mia leading us, it will certainly
continue."
She
noticed he spoke the name 'Mia' with a bit of plaintive reverence, and chose
not to ask about it. "But then why don't you just tell them. It could be
inspiring."
"I plan to, and soon.
But please, Sabre, don't say anything to anyone about it until I do. I
want it come from me, and some people need to be told before others."
"I won't, I promise."
Gravitt again entered her mind and she added, "But maybe you shouldn't say
anything until after the Festival, though. There are many people who have come
to it that would take advantage of… me to use you, to exploit you because of
this—some people who might even harm to you and your city, or even to the
Guildmaster. Vane might understand, but some of its visitors…well…you just
can't be sure of anyone's motives these days." Please
Ashu…not with Gravitt here…he'll use you as tool in whatever sick plans he
has for this place…
He
coughed, clearly uncomfortable with her observation and diverted the
conversation to a different avenue, "So you have a son…you are married then?
To that blonde man I you nearly ran over with your horse this morning?"
She
said sadly, "No, Brinson is just my friend. He is not my son's father."
Her
twin clearly sensed her distress, "I'm sorry if I'm touched on an
uncomfortable subject—from what the two of you said to each other earlier
today I just thought…"
Sabre
shivered, and prayed he didn't see it. The thought of being committed beyond
life to Gravitt made her ill, or worse, but she couldn't tell him the truth.
She realized she didn't have any other choice; there simply wasn't time to
be creative. As distasteful as it
was she had to use the cover story Gravitt had given her, even though it meant
that she would have to lie to her own brother. "Was married. My husband is
dead."
"I'm
sorry."
"Don't be, it was more of
a business arraignment than a marriage. Hell,
it didn't even last long enough to be called either. You don't need to feel
sorry, there was little love lost when he decided he'd rather be dead than
married to me."
There
was a profound sorrow in Ashu's dark eyes as he said, "You mean you married
him but you didn't even love him?"
Sabre hesitated, the words
tasting foul in her mouth. "Oh,
perhaps on some level I did. I don't think he cared for me much. Adventuring
was his first love; horses were his second, so at best I was a distant third. I
knew that from the beginning."
"That's
horrible, Sabre. I just can't imagine—"
She cut him off with cold
shrug, refusing the reassuring hand he'd tried to put on her shoulder. "When
you're like me, Brother, you take what you can get." A pause and then with a
smile she said, "What about you? I'm
sure you've have plenty of choices as to who holds your affections."
She laughed briefly; "Maybe even some competition? Or does it change
from week to week? Surely that gigantic bed was meant for more than one
person!"
He
said acrimoniously, "There was girl, once. One that I wanted to marry—but
not any more."
"What
happened?"
He considered a moment before
he said simply, "I lost her. My
own damn fault."
She
heard the finality in his voice and decided not to probe further, at least not
at the moment. "I'm sorry."
Ashu
quickly changed the subject. "How old were you when you married?"
"Barely
sixteen. Too young."
"Sixteen…I had just
earned my apprenticeship. Sabre, I
wish I had been there."
"Yeah,
me too," she said, almost pitifully.
Ashu looked away from her.
"I wonder, Sister, and I know I am being too nosy, but how… how is it
possible that you have a child? I
mean, well…you know."
She
smiled at him, hoping he wouldn't see how forced it was: "No, you are not
being nosy. My…husband was immune to magic—all kinds, direct and indirect.
His…. Brother…" her voice grew cold at the statement, "is the man I
traveled here with…Gravitt of Briggatt. He is the same way…immune, I
mean."
"Fascinating."
"What
is 'fascinating?'"
"Their family's inherited
immunity to magic, and the ability to repel its effects. I've never heard of
that before. It would make an interesting study."
"I
guess."
Ashu
seemed intrigued, "Your son, does he have his father's ability?"
"No,
I believe he has inherited mine, but it's still too soon to tell."
"How
old is he?"
"He'll
be four in July," she said, and then added despondently, "I am so afraid for
him, the first signs are there… I've already started to cover his hands."
Ashu
shook his head returning his hand to her shoulder, "Sabre, I promise I'll do
whatever I can for him and you. We have resources here—volumes of knowledge
and mages that know everything there is to know about magic, centuries of
learning and knowledge." He took her hand, "After all these years…it's
the least I can do. I believe that I owe you my life, Sister."
She
shook her head, rejecting his last statement.
"When I realized it was really you, I knew you would want to help. And
you owe me nothing, but thank you, Brother."
He
gave her a wide smile, "What did you name him?"
"Darian."
"It's
a pretty name."
"I
wanted to name him after Father, or you, but…my husband didn't like it. He
didn't want a Tribal name for his child." She glanced away from him.
"He's… was… funny about that."
Ashu
looked like he didn't really know how to respond to her comment, but he
grinned at her and said, "I can't wait to meet him! I can't believe I have
a nephew!"
"I'm
sure he'll adore you." She grinned back, a mirror image of the one he gave
her, "He's got the curse, you know."
He
stood up and stretched, walking a few steps from where she sat to check his
appearance in the reflection of the water. "He has? Poor kid, I guess Mother
wasn't wrong about that."
"No, she wasn't. When you came up behind me in the
hallway, I thought I had seen Daddy's ghost."
Turning back to her he smirked, "It's the
curse—although not a bad one, I mean we're just a whole family of
extraordinarily handsome men."
A
playfulness Sabre thought she had long forgotten suddenly filled her as she
jumped up and threw all her weight against him, pushing him into the pool. She
laughed hysterically as he tried to catch his balance by flapping his arms, and
then finally surrendered to gravity by crashing into the water face first. A
moment later he resurfaced, and she shouted, "Yes, but the real curse is that
they all know it!"
He
swam to the edge and held a hand up to her. "Help me out. These clothes weigh
a ton."
Standing over him, she
crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm not falling for that one, Ashu.
I still remember that trick you pulled on me when we were six."
The
pool was shallower than she had thought, because in a second Ashu was standing
at his full height and the water only at his waist. He smirked, made some sort
of gesture at her and then next thing she knew she was floating a few inches
above the ground and being pulled towards him. He snapped his fingers to break
the spell and she hit the water, landing hard on her backside. She pushed her
way to the surface and scowled at him, shaking the water from her hair and
trying to keep it from gluing her shirt to her body. "You're not playing
fair!"
He laughed, and splashed some
more water on her. "Of course not! I'm
your brother, I'm allowed to cheat now and then. Come on, let's get inside.
We'll both catch our death of cold staying out here all wet."
******
Dressed
in one of Ashu's old tunics (which was more of a dress on her) and sipping
some very welcomed hot tea, Sabre found herself more relaxed and content than
she had been in years. Sitting in front of the fire in his room it seemed almost
natural; in her mind she pretended for a moment that they were on the Prairie
again, talking in front of a campfire. In the third outfit she had seen him in
this evening, Ashu still looked different to her, though. He seemed too regal to
be the little boy who would throw bugs at her and scare her horse with his
thunder when their parents weren't looking.
As her brother sat down next to her, now dressed in old
baggy pants and a shirt (she guessed they were what he usually slept in), he
said, "You know…when we were out on the Prairie looking for the Black Dragon
cave, I asked around about you."
She smiled over her tea. "I don't live there anymore, I
haven't for a while now."
"I guess not, but still, I figured around Tamur someone
might have heard something, or known what had become of the Setin."
"They are still around."
"I figured that. What did they want with you?"
She gave him a harsh look, "What do you think they
wanted?"
"Sabre, I'm sorry. I just…never mind. How did you get
away from them?"
She gritted her teeth. She was not going to tell Ashu about
being a slave. He'd want to interfere, or try something noble--something that
could get him killed. So again, she lied to him. "I ran away one night."
Ashu nodded as he stirred his cup and shifted the
conversation slightly. "I made friends with some people from Pao on that
trip."
Sabre responded flatly, "Yeah, they are still around. No
one really bothers them. Many of the other Tribes have died out, though. People
have been hunting them down." People like Gravitt…
"This…this discussion saddens you, Sabre. Why is that?
Do you want to go back? To the Prairie?"
"I don't know what I want, Brother. I've found you
now and I should be happy, but neither of us are the people we were."
"We were kids, Sabre. People change as they get older."
She could tell by his tone that he was dodging her
statement. "Perhaps, but not so much in eleven years that sometimes, like
right now, I feel I don't know you."
"We've both been through a lot. Do you know what it
took to get to Vane? To leave the Prairie? I was the only one left, Sabre. I
checked—everyone was dead! They killed even the youngest babies."
"I know and I'm not faulting you," she said as she
placed the cup on the table in front of the couch.
He looked at her, "I still wish you had stayed. Then we
could have come here together."
"Vane is a nice city, and I'm sure you love it since
it's your home, but I would have been miserable. You know that. And if it had
gone other way--if you had been caught too--who knows what would have happened
to us? At the very least we would have been prisoners of the Setin."
He said gently, "Well you would have gotten in a lot of
trouble if you had run off like you used to do. You used to scare Mom and Dad when you did that, something
awful."
"I don't do that anymore." I want to…but…
A long silence held, finally she said with a grin, "Ashu,
I have a confession to make."
"Oh?"
"My friend Brinson won a mare from a very drunk Vanetian
back in December. The owner told him that she was a gift from the Guildmaster. I
have to tell you this because Brinson gave me that horse, and when we got here
he realized that you were the man he beat at cards! So, now in knowing that she
was yours, I want… I need to give her back to you."
He shook his head, "Mia bought me that horse without
knowing how high strung she was—she never was a very good judge of horseflesh.
He laughed as he continued; "She still can't tell the difference
between a stallion and a mare. Anyway, I never really could ride her, not like
she deserved to be ridden, and I lost the bet. She's yours, Sister." He
smirked, "Besides, I'm sure you ride her better than I do. You always
did."
She leaned back on him and looked up, "Yeah, but you
could make me fly."
"Maybe we can do that again."
"I'd love to." She turned to face him, "What was
her name? The horse, I mean."
"She didn't have one. Vane's never gotten into the
habit of naming horses, I guess I just sort of got used to that."
Sabre gasped, "Ashu! That is bad luck! You should know
you never ride a horse without a name!"
He shrugged, "I've grown up with different
superstitions, here."
She scowled. "I wouldn't take it so lightly. You lost
that horse. What else bad happened to you? You said you lost the girl you loved.
Did she die?"
"Stop it Sabre! No, she's not dead! She's
just…never mind! Just stop it!"
"See, it all comes back to the horse. Watch yourself
Brother, you know it takes seven years to break a curse."
Angry brown eyes met shocked blue as he spat, "Sabre, I
don't believe in that crap anymore! I don't believe that by braiding my hair
I will bring pride to my family! I don't believe that in dancing a certain way
we will have a good hunt! I don't believe that you need to strive to become
the ideal of your namesake, or that that doing so makes any difference in who
you are! And I certainly don't believe that by riding a horse without a name
your luck will be terrible!"
She felt her face go white as she asked him, "Then what
do you believe in?"
"I believe in hard work. I believe in the greater good,
whatever the hell that may be, and I know that someday we can achieve peace
throughout Lunar, and that it will start right here in Vane where everyone is
welcome to study magic!"
"Those are values, Brother, new ones, but not beliefs. I
guess you lost the ones our parents gave you, then, when you found your new
home… and forgot the ones you were born to."
"No I didn't. If I had, would I have told you who I
was? You would have never figured it out otherwise.
You looked right at me, Sabre. You looked right at me and rode away."
She brushed her hair
back; the ends of it still wet from the impromptu swim. Guilt filled her and she
said quietly, "Ashu, I'm sorry. We shouldn't fight."
He
touched her shoulder, regret in his eyes and voice. "No, we shouldn't Sabre.
I'm sorry too." He sighed, "It's late. I'm tired and you're tired.
And even if you're not, I'm more than a little confused right now.
How about we pull the blankets off the bed and sleep on the balcony
outside? I must confess that the walls get to me sometimes, too."
She smiled at him.
"I'd love that."