Chapter 9: Requiem of Grief
Author's Notes: I've decided to give the Lizard Clan a name in their native tongue: the saaraks. I'll variously refer to them as "Lizard Clan" and "Saaraks" in the story from now on.
Hugo walked as if through a thick fog. He hardly noticed the rough stone walls of the underground passage, hardly felt the steps that took him closer and closer to the Great Hollow. He didn't feel much of anything anymore, besides the lifeless body of his friend that he carried on his back. He didn't feel tired, either. If anything, Lulu wasn't heavy enough.
After Lulu was killed, Chris had sounded the retreat, and the ironheads had withdrawn. Hugo wasn't sure how it all happened; he could hardly remember anything of the last day, besides that moment when Lulu's life ended. It was Sergeant Joe who had picked up the pieces, as usual. Hugo had been on the ground, crushing Lulu's lifeless body to his own, crying or screaming or maybe both. It didn't matter. The sergeant had snapped him out of, gotten him on his feet, gotten him moving. He couldn't make Hugo let go of Lulu, though. He'd never do that.
"This is my fault," Sergeant Joe said, bitterly. His words echoed through the Ancient Highway, sounding small and pathetic.
Hugo could not bring himself to contradict him. All he could do was to keep walking. Fubar marched beside him, head lowered mournfully, nudging Hugo's side with his beak every now and then to try to get his attention.
"Had I… had I been able to make him see reason…" Sergeant Joe stammered, "Then perhaps… But he wouldn't listen to me. It was a foolish thing to do! It's really a wonder that we weren't turned into pincushions by the ironhead archers. I… but then…"
"Do not blame yourself, sergeant," Lilly stated. "You were not at fault." Though she spoke with conviction, a great deal of the girl's boisterous confidence had left her, and she seemed almost diminished to Hugo's eyes where she walked a few steps ahead of him, carrying a torch.
If she looks like that, what do I look like? he wondered.
They kept walking in silence. They'd spent hours in the Ancient Highway, a system of sprawling underground passages that connected the Grasslands. One such tunnel stretched from the outskirts of Karaya – or what had been Karaya – to the Great Hollow of the saaraks, where they would find what passed for safety these days.
"Hugo, you should let Fubar carry Lulu," Sergeant Joe pleaded. He cast a concerned look at Hugo.
"No," Hugo replied. He has carried him far enough.
"Be reasonable, Hugo. It'll be almost an hour, yet. You'll be dead on your feet soon enough."
A voice like liquid venom answered from the shadows: "No. You'll all be dead soon enough… but not on your feet." A wicked laugh filled the tunnel.
The sergeant leveled his halberd towards the sound. "Who's there?" Lilly hissed, and swung her torch at the darkness with one hand while she drew the slender blade that hung from her hip. The shadows parted slowly, like water draining through a sieve.
"Show yourself!" she shouted.
"I am right here," the voice proclaimed, and the shadows began to dance. With a swirl of deeper darkness, the shadows parted and revealed a tall man dressed entirely in black. Blonde hair framed a handsome face, the eyes of which were hidden beneath the wide brim of a rakishly slanted hat.
Hugo gently laid Lulu down on the ground and drew his dagger. "Stand aside," he said, voice cold as ice.
"Sorry, I can't do that. I thought about killing you all without warning, but then I always like a good zinger. I do try to keep myself entertained." The man's hands moved, and there was a swirl of darkness. Suddenly he held twin swords in his hands, each one forged from a night-black steel. A faint glow caught Hugo's eyes, and he saw, upon the metal, rows of carved runes burned crimson.
"King Crimson," the man hissed, "Share your wisdom with these children!" His swords parted like an eagle's wings, and waves of red light shot out from the blades. Bands of color turned to solid spears in midair and slammed into Hugo and the others, knocking them back as if the color were a physical thing. The stranger charged.
Hugo awakened his Wind Rune, and threw a gust of air against the black-clad man. The stranger stumbled back a step, but then a crimson nimbus surrounded him. Maws of red fog tore at Hugo's magic, ripping it apart and swallowing it. A protective barrier? Hugo wondered. How?
The stranger ran towards Hugo and swung his swords. Sergeant Joe interposed himself between them. The Duck Clan warrior's halberd swung back and forth, sweeping the blades aside. They traded a few blows, and then the stranger found an opening, thrusting his sword past the sergeant's halberd. Sergeant Joe hopped back, quacking in shock as the stranger's sword stole a few feathers.
Lilly struck the stranger from behind. The man seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. Without turning, he swept his sword behind his back and batted Lilly's blade aside. The girl cried out in shock, but did not back down.
Hugo awakened the full power of the Wind Rune and hurled a battering ram of air at the stranger. The red fog surrounding the man flickered this time, but held.
The stranger's left-hand blade pushed Sergeant Joe back, while his right-hand blade held Lilly at bay. Each time one of his assailants made even the tiniest mistake, the stranger struck like a viper. Lilly's hat was sliced from her head as she ducked, but she kept her head. Sergeant Joe lost another patch of feathers, but kept his arm.
Fubar's feet scraped against stone as the gryphon gathered his strength and flung himself at the stranger. The stranger backed away, out of reach of his assailants, and threw his swords up in a deadly X.
"Fubar, no!" Hugo shouted. In desperation, he lashed out with the Wind Rune. Sparks flew as the stranger's crimson glow flared up, and a sound like the hiss of metal cooling in water filled the air. The Wind Rune howled, and tore a path through red light. The swords were pushed aside, and the griffin slammed into the man's chest, knocking him back.
Sweat ran down Hugo's forehead as he focused on the spell. An eldritch gale rushed through the cavern, causing his clothes to flitter. He applied his will on affecting the man's blades as Fubar grappled with the man. The crimson aura seemed to singe the griffin's feathers, causing the creature to shriek with pain between snaps of its jaws.
Over the course of the short battle, Lilly had positioned herself on the opposite side of the man. "Quick! Get over here!" she shouted.
Sergeant Joe grasped Hugo's arm as he ran past him. Grabbing Lulu, Hugo stumbled towards Lilly. As he ran, he heard a roar of frustration, and Fubar shrieked.
Hugo's heart skipped a beat as he saw Fubar's body tossed past him. The gryphon slammed into the stone floor twenty feet down the tunnel and raised a cloud of dust as it rolled around several times before coming to a rest.
"Fubar!" Hugo shouted, running towards his friend. Behind him, he heard the stranger rise back to his feet.
"This is pointless," the stranger said. "It's time to end this!" Once again, the man crossed his swords over his chest. He took a single step forward and unleashed a slash through the air, sending waves of sharp, red light towards them.
The crimson arcs caught up to Sergeant Joe as he ran, and slammed into his body. Blood sprayed from his back as the waves tore deep wounds in his flesh. Shouting wordlessly, Hugo threw himself towards the sergeant. He heard laughter, and the shadows seemed to shudder all around him, vibrating with potent fervor.
"If you're going to play around in old tunnels," Lilly said, facing the stranger, "You're going to get buried!" She pulled the glove from her right hand, revealing a glowing yellow rune. The black-clad man had time to shout a "NO!" before Lilly awakened the Earth Rune, and a yellow-brown light blossomed around her hand. The ground rumbled and shook. With a roar of breaking stone, the ceiling collapsed, bringing down a mass of stone and dust onto the place where the man had stood.
He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but just before the stone had fallen, Hugo had thought he'd seen shadows envelop the stranger.
When the dust settled, they looked each other over.
"True Runes in a tree!" Lilly exclaimed. "Who was that man?" For all her bravado, Lilly's face was pale in the torchlight, and she shivered.
"Don't know," Sergeant Joe said, hoarsely, "Never seen that fighting style before…" The Duck Clan warrior clutched his side, where blood seeped through his feathers. Hugo hurried over to his friend to examine the injury, and was relieved to find it seemed to be a shallow wound. He drew upon the Wind Rune, and did his best to close the wound.
"It's not perfect," he said, "But we'll be at the Great Hollow soon."
Sergeant Joe nodded weakly. "Thanks, Hugo."
Hugo shook his head. "No. Thank you, Sergeant."
A chirp echoed through the tunnel, and then Fubar came walking out of the darkness, dragging Lulu by the front of his shirt. The gryphon's feathers were caked with dirt and grime, but they weren't matted with blood. Hugo patted his friend on his head.
"Good boy, Fubar," he said. "You know what. Why don't you carry Lulu, after all?"
Fubar tilted his head to look up at him.
"Kwee?"
"Explain yourself, Sir Alron!"
Chris glared into the calm eyes of the knight before her. The blinding, intoxicating anger she had felt on Amur Plains was gone, but in its stead, she felt a righteous fury that could only have come from within. Alron stood with his hand casually placed on the hilt of his sword. The knight seemed completely unperturbed.
On their return to Brass Castle, the knights had quickly retired to the barracks, and gathered in the common room. Chris stared down Alron in the center of the room, while the others were arranged in a loose circle around them.
"Milady?" Alron asked. He seemed confused, but the faintest trace of amusement creased his lips; enough to raise Chris' ire, but too little to be sure.
Chris made her back straight as she met the man's calm eyes. "I will be quite clear, Alron. The Knights of Zexen do not take hostages, especially not ones abducted on the road!"
"Abducted?" Alron said, sounding hurt. "The council ordered the boy's arrest. I was merely following orders."
"Arrested?" Chris said. Has the world gone mad? "On what grounds were Hugo arrested?"
"Conspiracy to commit murder, milady," Alron replied smoothly.
"That is utter nonsense," she said.
"You may say that, but those were the council's orders," Alron said. He actually had the gall to look insulted.
"Council orders or not," she said firmly, "you have disgraced the Knights of Zexen. You have blackened your honor as a knight. What possessed you to use the boy as a hostage?" Her mind reeled at the thought. How could a knight do such a thing?
"I serve the council however I may, milady," Alron said.
"Incorrect," Chris said coldly. "You serve the Knights of Zexen; a far higher ideal than the council. Now we must do what we can to salvage some of our honor. Where are you keeping the villagers you captured?" she demanded.
"Nowhere," the man replied.
"This is not the time for games, Sir Alron," she snapped.
"There never were any captives," he explained. "It was a ruse. They're all dead."
A moment of silence passed between them, and then Chris lost control. She stepped forward, and before the knight could react, she rammed her fist into his face, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Even as the man hit the floor, she realized what a foolish thing she had just done.
"Milady!" Salome exclaimed. "This is…"
Alron groaned, but his moans turned to a chuckle as he wiped blood from his face and broken nose. "I know the laws," he said, as Borus helped him to his feet. "Striking a knight… Silver Maiden, you should know better."
The color drained from Borus' face. "Alron, no!"
Alron smirked. "I look forward to seeing the honorable laws of the Knights of Zexen upheld. You must be thrilled to be able to show me the virtue of the knights, milady," he sneered.
Chris fumed, but gave no response. "I will contemplate your fate at another time. Pending the investigation, you are relieved of your command, and may not act as a Knight of Zexen until such time that your name is cleared of these villainous charges." Goddess willing, that will be never. She waved her hand at him dismissively. "Get out of my sight. Now."
Alron left the chamber without a word. When the door closed behind him, Chris drew a deep breath.
"Milady, that was too rash," Salome said. "I agree that his actions were unfortunate and against the spirit of the knights, but there will be uncomfortable repercussions for what you did. You know the laws…"
"I know the laws, Sir Salome," Chris said, sighing. Goddess, what have I done? What has that man made me do? I have struck another knight in anger. Her fist ached, but then, it seemed a suitable reminder of what she had done. She sat down in one of the room's high-backed chairs. "The Knight's Code forbids what I just did," she said, "and as your captain, I should embody the code. Even so, I do not regret it. What Alron did was a far greater breach of the code, and worse yet, the ideals of the knights. I believe that as captain, it is my duty to uphold the ideals first, and the code second."
Yet, what of her own actions? She had not initiated it, but she had gone along with Alron's plan in order to save her people. Was she culpable? And then there was the boy. When she thought of the boy she had cut down, she felt sick to her stomach. She had killed before, but never like that.
Salome grimaced. "Now that the madness has lifted, we must begin to make repairs. The state of things… Everything is in chaos. The truce, I fear, has been broken beyond mending."
Chris nodded, rousing herself from her dark thoughts. "How far our troops?" she asked.
"Given the circumstances, fairly well," Salome said. "Thanks to Leo's efforts, the camp was fortified and well defended around the arsenal. Besides, once the… attack on Karaya was underway, the barbarians were too distracted to hold Amur Plains, much less press the attack. By now, Leo should have broken camp and withdrawn the supply train quite near Brass Castle. I expect him to return before dawn, and I have taken the liberty of sending several contingents of knights on patrol duty to ensure that his flanks are clear."
"Excellent, Sir Salome," Chris said. She closed her eyes for a moment as she laid her hands on her lap. She felt a splitting headache come on. "What about the… the barbarians?"
"Biding their time, for now, milady," Percival answered. "Our scouts believe they have retreated underground, to the Lizard Clan's Great Hollow."
"We should expect a counterattack soon," Salome said. "The Lizard Clan especially will demand blood to balance the scales."
Chris shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "If possible, I would like to dissuade such an attack. Though far-fetched at the time, the truce remains our objective."
Salome nodded. "Indeed. It is helpful that you spared the life of Chief Lucia's son. Perhaps that can provide some avenue towards a future peace…"
"That boy seems to pop up everywhere," Percival said, suspiciously.
Borus snorted. "I don't trust the boy," he proclaimed. The knight had hastily doffed his blood-stained armor upon reaching the castle, but without a proper bath, his guise seemed that of a dread specter of battle.
"I cannot imagine that the allegations leveled against him by the council could be true," Chris said simply. Reminded of Borus' presence, she turned her eyes on him. "Borus, I wish to know what part you played in the attack on Karaya." All that blood, from what? She was not sure she would like the answer, but she needed to hear it.
Borus looked momentarily stunned. He cleared his throat.
"My captain, I swear; I followed Alron out of loyalty to a fellow knight; no more. I did not participate in this… slaughter of innocents," he said. His voice faltered on the word slaughter, and he swallowed uncomfortably.
"I see," Chris said. She thought there might be more to it, but she let the matter lie for the time being. "There is much to discuss; we need to find a way to stem further bloodshed before our hand is forced."
Percival frowned at her. "Milady, we would all benefit more from your leadership if you were to get some sleep, first," he suggested.
"I agree," Salome said. "Pace yourself, milady. You have us all worried; I see the same fatigue in you as I did in the captain before… the end."
Chris shook her head. There is no time to rest! she thought. She frowned as she met their eyes. How I loathe those looks of concern. Do they think me so weak? Still, she did not doubt that their words came from a place of concern. She sighed, and stood. "Very well. A few hours of sleep, perhaps."
When Chris returned to her quarters, she was momentarily surprised at the sight of Jena, before she remembered that Sophia had gone back home to help her sister. So much had happened, she could hardly believe it had been less than day since Jena washed and braided her hair. The maid had drawn her a bath. Chris thanked the woman, then sent her away. She wanted to be alone.
Her clothes were damp with blood and sweat as she stripped them off, and her body ached in tune with her head. When she reached down to unbuckle her sword, she remembered that it was not hers, and her thoughts turned back to that moment when Percival had offered her his sword, just after the retreat.
If I had not taken his sword, the boy would still be alive now. But then, I might be dead. Would that have been better? Should it have been me who died?
The bathwater was hot enough to sting her skin, but it could not warm her heart. The walls of the washroom seemed to shrink in around her, and the colors leached from the stone. Alone in the bath, Chris wept.
Hugo sat in silence beside Mother as the Council of Chieftains held session. A crackling bonfire warmed the chamber in the Great Hollow that had once been used by Chief Zepon for this very occasion, but the heat of the fire did nothing to warm Hugo's bones.
For the first time in his life, the elders had asked him to participate in the council. On any other day, his chest would've been swelling with pride. But today, it felt hollow, and meaningless. He wished Lulu was here to see it.
They had brought him there to speak of what he knew, and he had given as full an account as he could of what had happened since he left the village. There was much to say, and when he was done, there story seemed to have raised more questions than it answered.
Hugo felt sick just thinking about it all. That morning, he'd risen to find the great burden of sorrow still weighing on his chest. The Great Hollow had no sunrise, no sunset, but out of habit, Hugo had risen with the sun. Somehow, his body knew.
There was some good news, at least. Though weak, Sergeant Joe had been stabilized by the saarak healers, and he would survive, given enough rest. Hugo felt bruised, but his wounds had already been healed by the ironheads. The worst he could boast at the moment were the effects of a crushing bear hug Mother had delivered when he and his friends first arrived in the Great Hollow.
As she conversed with the other chiefs, Mother would sometimes crane her neck to look at him, and then she would frown. He knew she was worried, but there wasn't anything he could say to convince her he'd be fine. Truth be told, he didn't know if he'd ever be fine again. Anyway, Mother wasn't the one who had to worry. Lulu's mother, Luce, was nowhere to be seen. Hugo would never forget the look on her face when she saw Lulu's lifeless form carried in. He'd heard people talk about heartbreak, but he'd always thought it was a figure of speech. He didn't think so anymore.
I should talk to her, he thought. But what would I say? What could I say? No. All I can offer now are empty words. I've got to set things right first.
It was his fault Lulu was dead. No one said it openly. Maybe no one even thought it. But to Hugo, it was obvious. He should've kept his friend safe. If I hadn't saved Chris's life at Tarnay… But then she saved my life, too. Spirits! It was all such a mess, he couldn't make heads or tails of it.
"The ironheads are treacherous at the core," Dupa said, his voice a low rumble. "It was a mistake to sue for peace with such snakes." He spoke calmly, but inside, the Lizard Clan captain would be seething with rage. The death of Chief Zepon had elevated Dupa to interim clan chief of the saaraks, but everyone knew how deeply Dupa had cared for the old man. Chief Zepon had been like a father to him.
"To seek peace is never a mistake, my friend," Chief Sana said, a gentle smile on her lips. Despite the heat from the crackling bonfire, the elderly leader of the Chisha pulled her shawl closer around her.
Dupa gave a frustrated grunt, but stopped short of showing his anger. The Chishan chieftain was well-respected by all. "This truce has exacted a hefty price so far, Sana. Would you say it was worth it?" The warmth of the flame, reflected in the warrior's eyes, seemed to return a cold fire as he glowered at the old woman.
"I grieve for each life returned to the spirits," Sana said. "Do not think me callous, saarak. Even so… this wheel of blood and hatred has spun for generations. We must make sacrifices if we are to break it."
"Sacrifices?" Dupa spat. Even respect had its limits, and clansmen were not known for hiding behind pleasantries. "It is the ironheads who must make sacrifices before we are appeased! Lucia, tell me you don't agree with this foolishness?"
Mother's hands clenched at her lap. "Dupa. As chieftain of Karaya, I must first look after the living. I need to know what happened to the survivors before I can choose a course for us all."
Dupa bowed his head. "We grieve for you. Having lost the most, you must decide the future of the clans. Even so, we saaraks are honor-bound to avenge Chief Zepon. You know we cannot choose a successor until our chieftain's death has been avenged. It is our way." He hesitated for a moment, then said, "It pains me to say that I do not believe there were ever any survivors. The knights lied to you."
"She wouldn't lie about it," Hugo blurted out, surprising even himself. The elders' eyes turned on him, and he put his back up defensively. "Chris isn't like that. No matter what happened at Karaya." At least, she didn't seem like that. She wouldn't lie.
"You are young, Hugo," Dupa growled. "Too young to understand that there are people in this world who lack honor. The ironheads are such people."
"That's not true!" Hugo said. Even with the heat from the bonfire on his face, he could feel his cheeks burn, but he did not let the disapproving looks keep him from speaking. "I mean… I agree," he said, clearing his throat, "I do understand there are people like that, but not… Not her."
Dupa shook his head. "This warmblood killed your friend. How can you defend her?"
Shame ate at Hugo. He had no words. He's right, he thought. I hate her for what she did to Lulu, but… I still don't think she's a liar. I still don't think she could order a slaughter of defenseless people.
Mother pursed her lips. "Enough, Hugo. What proof do you have of this?" She faltered for a moment, no doubt considering the implications: if Dupa was right, then there were no survivors from the attack on Karaya. She pressed on. "You have spoken your mind. Now you will listen to your chieftain."
Glumly, Hugo bowed his head. They were right, of course. He wasn't sure why he was defending Chris in the first place. She killed Lu, and I still defend her? To that, he had no answer. He stayed with the council until they retired. The chieftain continued their discussions as the bonfire crackled. The Council of Chieftains would last until the last embers were extinguished.
Percival walked the halls of the knights' barracks, trying to shake off some of the nervous tension that had settled in his gut ever since the night on Amur Plains. The sword that normally hung at his hip was now with the captain, and he hadn't had a chance to replace it yet. He felt naked without it. He hadn't gone a day without a sword since he was seven years old.
Rounding a corner, he stopped in surprise. It wasn't often one found Borus Redrum brooding. And yet, Percival found his longtime friend leaning by the open window set into the turret at the corner of the tower, staring wistfully at the blue sky and green fields outside. The knight was so engrossed in his own thoughts, he didn't even hear Percival approach.
Percival slapped a hand on Borus's shoulder. "Practicing what to say when a girl finally decides to talk to you, huh?"
Borus gave a start, and shot him a murderous glare. "Cheeky bastard," he muttered. Percival grinned. Nothing wrong, there. But something about the look in Borus's eyes worried him. The man looked haunted.
"Would it be presumptuous to suggest that you seem distressed, friend?"
"It would," Borus replied, "but you'd be right." He sighed heavily.
"Pray tell?"
"It is… a matter of some delicacy," Borus said, frowning.
Percival put on his most innocent smile. "Have you ever met a man more delicate than me? C'mon. Tell me what's weighing on your mind. It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with… Karaya, would it?"
Borus swallowed hard. "Do you doubt my word?"
"What? When did I say that?"
"No, I…" Borus shook his head. "Forgive me. I know you never said it. It's just… I feel people's eyes on me… Judging me. I have tried so hard all my life to set a shining example. All I ever wanted was to be a champion of Zexen. That's all."
"Borus… What's this all about?"
The blonde knight cast his eyes down. "I do not believe our captain would approve of what I have done, were she to know…"
"What you did when you were with Alron?" Percival asked, cautiously. Goddess, did you lie to her, Borus? Say it isn't so…
Borus shook his head. "No! I…" He swallowed. "It's nothing. Forget I said anything. I have duties to attend to. See you later, Percy."
Borus bowed his head and hurried off as if he were late to something. Percival watched him go, leaning against the wall. We live the same life, he thought. Fight the same battles. But we are so different, in many ways. How well do I really know Borus, or Roland, or any of the others? He couldn't stop thinking of what Borus had just said. His friend had stopped short of an admission of guilt, but not by much.
The wind swept over the grassy plains, howling as if sharing in Hugo's grief. The storm grew stronger as the night wore on, as if refusing to depart before dawn. Hugo threw himself into the motions of the burial dance. It seemed the spirits themselves had come out to honor his friend.
A mournful full moon accompanied the stars in the sky, and its pale silvery light illuminated the burial rite. Lulu's body was placed on the ground, swallowed by tall grass that rippled in the wind. Spinning and beating his feet, Hugo trampled the grass in a circle around his friend's body, cutting patterns in the air with Lulu's dagger. The wind spirits danced with him, and the earth spirits sand to the beat of his drumming feet.
"Spirits!" he called out. "Tonight I honor the gift of life; the life you breathed into the one we called Lulu." The wind stole his voice, but it didn't matter. He knew the spirits were with him, and nothing could stop them from hearing his words. "Now, he has returned to you, having satisfied his curiosity; having known life. We will miss him, as I know that you have missed him, while he stayed with us."
Hugo swallowed, feeling tears well up in his eyes. Closing his eyes, he swung Lulu's dagger in a wide arc, then stopped to exhale. "I thank you for the time we were blessed with his presence. I will remember, and treasure these memories." Stopping in mid-motion, Hugo turned and knelt before his friend's body. "His soul will be returned to the wind. His body will be returned to the earth. That which we borrowed from you, we now return."
The rite was over, but Hugo had more to say. Trembling, he clasped Lulu's cold fingers in his own. Grief washed over him, and he wept. "Lulu… I swear upon your birth weapon, which your mother made while waiting for you, and upon my birth weapon, which my mother made while waiting for me… I will avenge you. The one responsible for your death, I will kill with my own hands. So I swear."
Chris… if you are the one to blame for all of this, I cannot forgive you. No matter what.
Accompanied by the howling wind, Hugo dug his best friend's grave.
The sun was peeking over the horizon when Hugo finished. The upturned earth marking Lulu's grave was dark, and Hugo stared at it with a feeling of disbelief that his friend was truly dead. With the finality of the burial, a cold, silent rage was beginning to match his sorrow.
Hugo felt soft arms around his neck, and turned his head to see Mother's face, a weak smile on her lips. He said nothing, but did not try to escape her embrace.
"It's not right for children to bury children," she said with a sigh, "But you did well. It's hard to believe that my little boy is already upholding our traditions…"
"I'm not a child anymore, Mother," Hugo protested, but his heart wasn't in it.
Lucia sighed. "I suppose not, but I don't like to think of it that way. Whatever happened to my little warrior – the one who made it his life's quest to catch a wind spirit? Will I ever see that bright star again?"
Hugo swallowed back tears. "I don't think so, Mother."
"Hugo…" Lucia said, "Don't spend your life trying to avenge others. The dead do not thirst for blood. I learned this lesson much too late. I don't want to see you make the same mistake."
He turned to search her eyes. "You mean Grandfather?"
Lucia nodded slowly. Her eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment before she spoke. "When my father was murdered – poisoned by those greedy men – all I could think of was vengeance. I sought the enemies of my enemy, and would have allied myself with the vilest of rune breakers just to have my 'justice.'"
"What should you have done? You couldn't just accept it," Hugo said.
Lucia shook her head. "I chased ghosts, searching for vengeance at any cost. I'm not saying it's wrong to seek justice, but… Is that what Lulu would want?"
Hugo turned away to hide the tears in his eyes. "I just… can't accept it."
"I know," Lucia whispered. She held him close.
Feeling embarrassed, Hugo pulled out of her grasp and cleared his throat. He wiped his tears on his sleeve. "I haven't even thought about all the others. I've only thought of Lulu… The Zexens… I can't understand how Chris could do that. Grandfather's murderers, and this… the ironheads never change," he spat.
"Not all of them are like that," Lucia said.
"But who isn't?" he snapped.
Lucia smiled. "I think it's time I gave you this…" she said. From behind her back she pulled a bundle wrapped in bright cloth. She handed it to him. Hugo accepted the bundle with a confused frown. It was long and slender, and wrapped in layer upon layer of cloth. He could tell the object was rigid and relatively heavy even before he began unwrapping it.
"A gift?"
"Careful," Mother said. "This belonged to your father."
Hugo's head spun. She'd never talked about his father before. Whenever he asked him, about who he'd been, about where he was, she'd always make some excuse, or tell him he wasn't ready for it yet. Hugo nearly tore the cloth in his eagerness to unwrap the bundle. When he did, he found a sword sheathed in a leather scabbard. The hilt was wrapped with black leather, or perhaps a dark brown – it was hard to say in the pre-dawn light – and the bronze pommel was ringed by a strip of blue cloth. The angled cross-guard and the tip of the sheath were also decorated in bronze, and another strip of blue cloth separated the guard from the handle.
He'd never seen such a beautiful weapon.
"It's… a sword!" he said, confused. No Karayan ever wielded a sword in battle. And certainly not a weapon like this. This is like… something from out of a story!
"Indeed," Mother said dryly.
Hugo drew the sword from its scabbard. The blade gleamed as the first rays of the dawn light caught the metal.
"My father's sword…"
"Yes," Mother confirmed.
"Why now?"
"You're old enough, and I think you should have it. After what's happened… and what will come to pass…" she explained.
Eyeing the sharp blade, Hugo frowned. "But I don't know how to use it…"
"Jimba can teach you," she said simply.
He gave her a hard look. "Who was my father?" he demanded.
Mother's lips pressed into a thin line, and something like pain flashed in her eyes. She looked away. "It's not the right time."
"Why? When is the right time? Spirits! Will there ever be a right time?" He shoved the blade back into its scabbard.
"Yes. Some day, I promise. I… just don't want you to follow his path. I don't want you to become entangled in what he was… what others would expect of you… what you would expect of yourself. Does that make sense?"
"No," Hugo said, sighing.
Mother smiled wryly. "Trust me?"
He let her stew for a long while before nodding. "I do."
"Good," Mother said. "It's cold… let's return to the Great Hollow before you catch a cold."
Hugo rolled his eyes and hefted his father's sword symbolically. "You go first," he said. "I want to be alone for a little while."
After she had left, he sat studying the sword, pretending that the cold morning wind had no bite. He had already sheathed Lulu's knife – his friend's birth weapon – and struggled with the best way to fasten the sword to his clothes.
The older I get, the more weapons I collect. How many blades will hang from my belt before the spirits welcome me back?
Next Chapter: Betrayal, vengeance, and an assassination attempt with an unpredicted outcome! Plus, a cameo from an old character in an unexpected position…