Chapter 11
She really needed to learn not to push Echo. She really did, but she couldn't help it. They pushed each other all the time. It was nice to have someone to verbally and mentally spar with, even if she wasn't sure fully of Echo's loyalty. She said things and did things that made Clarke think that she wasn't completely reporting everything to Nia, but Clarke couldn't let herself believe it. She didn't have that luxury.
Even though Clarke was allowed to train and had certain areas of the palace that she was allowed to be, she wasn't stupid enough to think that she wasn't still one of Nia's prisoners. Nia might call her a "guest" still to those in the palace that saw her, but Clarke knew better. Echo was honestly the only one that didn't sneer every time that she saw Clarke. And, there might have been some comradery between them, but Echo was always very cautious when others were around. She was also a hard teacher.
Clarke couldn't feel her arms. It didn't matter that it was cold out. Clarke was sure that it was something stupid like a negative number on some antiquated temperature scale that no one besides those from the Mountain or the Ark knew. She knew that she should be proud of herself and the number of "kill" shots that she'd made while they were doing her bow work, but now she was paying for it. Her arms were sore. Her fingers tingled and the cold only made it worse. She wished that they were number, but at the same time, she didn't.
Sword practice was going to be brutal. The cold was just going to exacerbate the numbness in her fingers, hands, and arms. There was no way around it. She couldn't make it warmer outside. She was at the same mercy of the elements as everyone else. She was going to hurt later, and she had no one to blame but herself.
"Stop internally whining and keep up," Echo called out to her Trig.
Clarke scoffed at the words and sped up. She caught up to the older spy and looked around. They were exactly heading to the sparring grounds. They were in the market area. Clarke realized that she was so worried about the feeling in her arms that she hadn't been paying attention to what was going on around her.
Echo stopped until Clarke was right beside her. The taller woman looked down at Clarke and gave her a rare smile. It was quick, and Clarke thought that she might have actually imagined it, until Echo snatched her up by some loose fur around her shoulders and shoved her into a building that was surrounded by rock on three sides and a wooden front. She realized that she had no idea what the building was because she hadn't seen any markings on the outside. It didn't advertise itself as anything, so Clarke wasn't sure if she should be worried or not. Echo seemed relaxed, so she decided to follow her lead.
The building was warm. There a huge fire billowing off the back left. Clarke could see the flames and a man in front of them. He was big, wide, and very, very muscular. He was beating something just to the left of the fire. Occasionally, Clarke would see him gesture to a figure to the right of the fire and it would get hotter. She was ashamed to say that it took her too long to realize that it was a bellows and the man was a blacksmith of sorts.
Echo didn't make any move to announce their presence. She seemed to content to watch the man work. So, Clarke just stood there and watched him work. Amazed by his size and the fact that he seemingly was only wearing pants and a thick leather smock, the blonde fixated on the size of his arms and the obvious lack of hair the man had.
There was a rhythm to his movements. It was almost hypnotic as she continued to watch. After a while, Echo realized that they hadn't been observed, so she waved that the smaller figure and pointed to a grouping of chairs near what looked like a counter. Clarke watched as the younger figure just nodded. Echo grabbed her by the back of her grey fur coat and drug her over to the grouping of chairs. After being forced to sit, Clarke glared at Echo for only a moment before returning her gaze to the work being done by the fire.
"If I didn't know any better, I would think that you are being called to be a smith," Echo teased her.
"We didn't have anything like this on the Ark or ... I've never seen anything like it except in pictures. I understand what he is doing, but why are we here? Do you need something?"
"No, but you do," Echo replied and then pointed for Clarke to continue to watch the man work.
Clarke turned her attention back to the man and the smaller figure. From their distance, which wasn't that great, Clarke was still upset with herself for not being able to identify the smaller figure. She wasn't sure if it was a child or woman, and for some reason that bothered Clarke. But, she did as asked, she sat and watched the man before her pound the metal and shape it into something she assumed would be very useful.
The hammering stopped and the man looked up. His eyes were a strange grey color. He was obviously sweaty, but he smiled at the two customers in his shop. He motioned to the smaller person and they nodded and went towards the back of the shop. He put down his hammer and grabbed a cloth. Wiping himself down a little, but mostly his face, he turned to face Echo more fully. Clarke just watched him as he silently moved around the shop to behind the counter. He leaned on the old wood, and she heard it creak.
"Echo, my old friend, what brings you to see Huron today?" the man asked her.
"My friend here needs some armor that will let her move and fight," Echo replied.
"She's small."
"No smaller than Erie," Echo countered.
The small figure perked up. Clarke guessed that their name was Erie. The figure moved back towards the counter and Clarke could now see that she was definitely a woman. While small in stature, she made up for it muscles and flaming red hair. She didn't speak as she slapped Huron on the arm. She started a series of wild gestures and the man just bellowed out a laugh.
Echo leaned over to Clarke and whispered, "She lost her tongue when she was young, and Huron was the only one that could get her to 'speak.' They've been bonded since they were teens. They had four children. Three of which were lost with the wars against the clan. The fourth is a daughter, a spitfire like her mother Erie. Her name is Michi. She's smith like them and lives a few villages over in A'Arb. She's just bonded with a woman named Adrian."
Clarke just nodded. She wasn't sure why Echo was giving her background on this family, but she figured there was a reason. She knew that Huron wasn't the only smithy in Troi, but Echo had brought her to this one. He was either one of the best or she trusted him beyond the others.
"And, why does she need this armor?" Huron asked them.
Echo dug into her furs until she slipped out some of Clarke's drawings. She stood up and walked to the counter. She placed the drawings down and pointed to them. Huron studied a few of the sketches before he looked up at her. The look he gave Echo said a lot without saying anything. It was then that Clarke noticed that he was scratching, absentmindedly it seemed, at his left shoulder. Clarke, ever the healer, noticed that he wasn't stopping as he conversed with Echo at the counter. Finally, she couldn't take it and stood up. She walked over to the man and quickly gestured to his shoulder.
His eyes went as wide as saucers as she pointed to it again. He finally just nodded. Erie watched as she moved closer to see what the blonde was going to do. Huron turned to Echo again, and the spy just smiled and nodded. Clarke missed most of their interactions as she moved the straps to his smock out of the way to look at the abused flesh of his shoulder. Her fingers tentatively touched the very heated skin and then she saw it. It was faded and hard to see in his skin due to the flush from the heat, but Clarke could make out the "icy spiral" that normally represent Azgeda but without the handprint.
Her eyes flicked up to his and held. He seemed to soften even more as he looked her over. Erie moved closer until she got Clarke to look her in the eyes. It was then that she noticed that her green eyes were a deep viridian, slightly darker than Lexa's. They were both studying Clarke a little more closely. Clarke just shook her head and backed up. As soon as she was on the other side of the counter and standing next to Echo again, Huron and Erie both looked down at the sketches again.
"Who is she?" Huron asked, not taking his eyes off of the sketches.
"You know who she is," Echo replied.
"Ekou..." Clarke warned.
Huron looked up and into Echo's eyes. When she gave him a slight nod in recognition, the burly man turned his grey eyes back to Clarke. He looked her over again and then just nodded. He gestured for Erie to go get something and the smaller woman disappeared in the back. She came back with a pitcher of something, four bowls of a stew and some leather strapping. Clarke didn't notice it at first that the leather had notches on it. Erie sat everything down on the counter and left again. When she came back this time, she had four mismatched cups. She set them out, with the bowls of stew, one in front of each of them.
Echo didn't waste anytime as she dug into the stew. Clarke just stared at them. Erie poured whatever was in the pitcher into the cups. Clarke reached for one and took a small sip. She was unsure of what it was. She'd been having mostly lukewarm or very cold water while in the palace. She was surprised to find that it was some sort of mulled wine. It was rich in taste and complemented the stew well. She smiled up at the smiths after tasting both. It was warming her up.
"Don't drink more than two glasses," Echo warned her.
"Why?"
"Erie makes it strong. It will catch up to you faster than you think. I know that you haven't anything like this in weeks."
"How many can you have?" Clarke questioned almost in challenge.
"More than you," Echo replied with a cocked eyebrow.
Clarke took it as both an order and an answer. She knew better than to push Echo too far, especially after that morning. Echo had challenged her back and Clarke did the right thing backing down. In another situation, she would push back but now wasn't the time. It was in that moment that she realized that they were speaking Gonasleng and not Trig. She furrowed her brow and Echo saw it.
"What?"
"Why the English?"
"What?"
"Gonasleng," Clarke answered.
"Huron doesn't speak it, but Erie understands it. I know that she won't tell anyone what we say...not ever Huron. She lost her tongue to Nia's troops when they tore through Yspi. She's never told him the truth about it," Echo replied.
"Why not?" Clarke inquired.
"Because he was already working for Nia. She valued her life. He took pity on her and brought her to his Fos. The smith wasn't pleased, but he could tell that Huron wasn't going to let her go. They been together ever since. He is only one that will speak for her. I know enough of her gestures to get the meaning, but Huron is her houmon. It is only right that he is the one speaks for her now."
"He bears the mark."
"I know," Echo answered.
"Why?"
"Why don't you ask him?" Echo replied as she smiled at the burly man again.
Clarke leaned back off the counter and regarded the people around her. Echo had brought her here for a reason. She just couldn't see what it was. She looked back to Echo. The older woman only nodded her head towards Huron and smiled around her cup of mulled wine.
"Hokum?" Clarke inquired.
Huron cocked his head and placed the spoon back into the bowl of stew. He looked Clarke over. He looked back at Echo, once again, for confirmation. When Echo nodded again, he took a deep breath and then walked around to the front of the smithy. He locked the door and came back. He stood behind the counter. Clarke watched him. She realized that he wasn't using it as a shield between himself and her, it was more of respect thing between them.
"I lost many family to the wars and the Maun-de. Word of what you've done has reached us here, Stikgona. Those of us that know what it could mean have been secretely hoping to meet you. Even if you weren't the prophesized coming of the Wanheda we've been expecting, I would still be indebted to you. Ending the Maun-de was a big thing for us all. We all know that Nia will use it against Heda Leksa, but there are still those of us in Azgeda that believe in Heda's cause for peace. And, while not all of Azgeda has benefited from the Kongeda, those of us in Troi and the closest surrounding villages have. The only problem with that, is that we all still serve Nia. She keeps those close to her dependent on her or warriors," he paused and then continued as he answered Clarke's very loaded and simple question. "I have seen the prosperity of the Kongeda, but I am from Azgeda. I knew that I had to come home and help my people. I've lost a lot, but I've also gained a lot. In my travels and even as a child, I was taught about the Wanheda and their coming. I am just glad that I've gotten to meet you. So, I would be honored if you would allow me to make your armor."
Clarke just nodded. She knew that she wouldn't be able to sway their beliefs, but part of her felt bad by taking advantage of it at the same time. Echo must have known what she was feeling, but before she could do or say anything to Clarke, Erie moved closer to the blonde.
She made some wild gestures, but Huron didn't translate them. He seemed confused at her movements. Huffing, Erie grabbed the sketches and pushed them around until she came to one of Bellamy an Ark Guards jacket. It was the closest thing to armor that she'd ever seen on the Ark, but it was the jacket that she was fixated on. When Clarke cocked her head in question, Erie took her hand and singled out a finger. She placed Clarke's finger on the triquera symbol that was on the back. Clarke knew that it was it was part of the symbol that represented the Ark. She knew that there was some more meaning behind it, but she'd forgotten what it meant.
"Chit?" Clarke questioned them all, confused as why they were focused so hard on that symbol.
Then, Echo shuffled the sketches again until she came to the armor. Clarke had included the symbol on the armor. It was on the right shoulder of a pauldron that was attached some sort of flexible breast plate. She might have been just trying to represent her people, but it was the symbol of Wanheda.
"That is the symbol of Wanheda," Huron answered as he showed her his other shoulder.
"The people that bear that mark know what it means. It is found some buildings from the Old World all over Azgeda. But, the Keyronkepas knew what it really meant. Your people wear it on their armor. I've seen it. Skaikru follows you, Clarke. The signs all point to you being Wanheda. I know that you haven't fully accepted it, but the people who know will follow you and help you. Huron and Erie have both sworn an oath to the Keyronkepa kom Azgeda to help the Wanheda whomever they may be. Huron would be very honored if you would allow him to make this armor for you," Echo told her. "The Pits are coming, Clarke. We can't stop that, but we can make sure that you are as prepared and protected as you can be."
"What do I have to do?" Clarke inquired, resigning that she might as well embrace her title and use it.
She was going to stop Nia somehow. It might not be in this life, but she would make sure that her tyranny ended. She couldn't, in good conscience, let these people continue to suffer. And, she also had plans to save as many people as she could. She would find a way to do it, but she knew that this wasn't the life to do it. She had to learn as much as she could. She needed to be prepared, more prepared for the next one.
Erie picked up a strip of leather from the counter. It was one of the marked strips that Clarke had seen earlier. Clarke quickly realized that it was a Grounder tape measure. She nodded to the fiery woman. Erie moved quickly as she took Clarke's measurements. Clarke just watched as she made gestures to Huron. Where the man had produced his own parchments, Clarke didn't care to ask as she watching him write down whatever it was that Erie was telling him. He just nodded with each gesture and scribbled down whatever was needed. When she tried to decipher it, she realized that it was a system that only they knew.
Ten minutes later, Erie was done. Echo handed him the sketches of the armor and a few weapons. He looked down at them and then up at Clarke. He nodded. There were some more gestures between Erie and Huron before he looked up at Echo.
"She wants you to know that we will not take any payment for these, Wanheda," he told them.
"But, you are making goods for me. I don't have money, but I will find a way to pay you back for these," Clarke started to insist.
Erie shook her head and then lifted her shirt. She pointed to the triquera on her right breast and then the icy swirl on the left. She waved her hand from chest level in what Clarke took as a universal meaning of "No." Clarke hung her head.
"It is their honor to armor Wanheda, Clarke. Would you rob them of this honor?" Echo asked her.
Clarke shook her head. Raising it up, she met both grey and green eyes. She smiled at them.
"It is my honor to wear your armor," she told them.
"It will be ready in a week," Huron stated.
"I'll be back to get them. I'm not sure if I can get her out again to fit them. I might be able to smuggle one of you into the palace to help her with it. But, more than that, I can't promise. Nia is watching her closely," Echo replied.
"Erie will come. Clarke will understand her. Trust us. And, as further payment, win in the Pits and show Nia that Wanheda is a force to be used wisely. Make her see the error of her ways. We are at your command, Wanheda. It is an honor to be your smiths and armorers," Huron told them.
"The honor is mine, Huron. I will never forget you and your kindness. And, with Ekou training me, how could I lose?" Clarke replied with a large smile.
