Part 59 (1/2)
”Aye. She'd come here, but you wouldn't be able to see her. And I didn't want you to think I'd lost my mind and was talking to myself.”
”After everything that's happened, you'd have reason enough.” Keirith's smile failed to hide the bitterness in his voice.
”After my vision quest, I never saw her again until Chaos. Maybe that . . . changed our bond. Made it stronger somehow. But it's worth trying, son.”
He never knew if Keirith followed his advice. Perhaps the very fact that Natha was an adder conjured too many painful memories.
They continued their silent journey north. Each step brought them closer to home-and to the inevitable confrontation with the council of elders. Keirith seemed unconcerned about his fate; he simply wanted to see his family again. But the thought that he was leading his son to his death haunted Darak.
Could he convince the elders that Keirith had acted in self-defense? Would they be able to separate the boy from the act? Or would they simply remember Morgath and recoil in horror when they saw him?
Even Hircha, who'd hated the Zheron, could scarcely bring herself to look at Keirith. Finally, Darak took her aside and reminded her that Keirith needed kindness and friends.h.i.+p. He spoke gently enough-Griane would have been proud-but Hircha shot him a murderous look and told him to mind his own business.
If her att.i.tude infuriated him, he had no complaints about her stamina. Despite her limp, she never asked them to slow the pace. She helped gather deadwood for their fire every evening and insisted on carrying an equal share of their supplies every day. And through it all, she maintained a stubborn silence as impenetrable as Keirith's.
Only once did she show any emotion. They had been traveling up the coast for a sennight. When she cried out, he froze, reaching for the dagger he had purchased in Oexiak.
”What? What is it?”
”It must be the same. There can't be two.”
”Two what?”
”The Old Man.”
His gaze followed hers to the top of a promontory, but he saw no one. Then he understood. With a little imagination, you could see the shape of a face in the rocks: a high forehead, a jutting nose, a pointed chin. Before he could stop her, she was lurching down the beach. He shouted at her to stop, knowing what she would find, but she ignored him. Cursing, he raced after her and saw her steps slow.
The village had been abandoned more recently than Urkiat's; although most of the roofs had caved in, the walls were still standing and the forest had yet to reclaim the field. Tufts of seagra.s.s sprouted in the doorways. Inside, he found only the stones of the fire pits. Either the raiders had stripped everything or these folk had left of their own accord. For Hircha's sake, he hoped it was the latter.
She ducked into one hut and remained inside a long while, emerging with a tight mouth and red-rimmed eyes.
”They might have fled deeper into the forest,” Darak said. ”Other tribes have. We'll ask at Ailmin's village.”
Her mouth quirked in a bitter smile. ”It seems you're stuck with me.”
He'd never realized his resentment was so palpable. Apologies would be useless; this girl valued truth, no matter how painful. Finally, he said, ”And you're stuck with us. I'd say you got the worst of the bargain.”
Something that might have been surprise flashed in her eyes. Her expression softened, reminding Darak of how young she was-and how vulnerable-beneath her tough exterior.
She shrugged. ”I'd say we're about even.”
And with that grudging acknowledgment, he had to be content.
Keirith's cry startled Hircha out of sleep. She waited for Darak's soft murmur to calm him. Hearing nothing, she rolled over.
Keirith was tossing restlessly, but Darak was gone. Perhaps he had to relieve himself; even the great Spirit-Hunter must p.i.s.s sometimes. She shook Keirith gently, but he just moaned.
”Harder,” he muttered. ”Make her squeal.”
More astonis.h.i.+ng than the words was the fact that he had spoken Zherosi. She shook him hard and he bolted upright. His eyes were wild, his lips twisted in the snarl she'd seen so often when Xevhan was in one of his rages. Instinctively, she scuttled backward.
Keirith blinked. His mouth relaxed. ”Hircha?” The voice was Xevhan's, of course, but the tentative note was Keirith's. ”I'm sorry I scared you.”
”You were dreaming.”
He hugged his knees to his chest, staring at the glowing embers of the fire.
”Do you want some water?”
He shook his head.
”Shall I fetch Darak?”
Keirith seemed unsurprised to find his father gone. ”He'll be back soon.”
He kept his face half turned from her as if ashamed of his outburst. Or perhaps he wanted to spare her the sight of it. Darak had seen how she avoided looking at Keirith. Keirith would have noticed, too. A hot wash of shame flooded her face. Poor boy. Hard as these last days had been for her, they were a hundred times worse for him.
”Do you want to talk about it? The nightmare, I mean?”
She expected him to say no. He always brushed off his father's attempts to draw him out and after the way she'd behaved, he had no reason to confide in her. He surprised her by saying, ”I was dreaming of the blind girl.”
”The . . . you mean the one with the players?”
He nodded. ”She sang for him. And then he watched Miko rape her.”
His words transported her back to Xevhan's chamber. Her body shuddered as if she were once again absorbing those brutal thrusts. She could hear Miko's grunts and Xevhan's labored breathing, hoa.r.s.e with excitement.
”Hircha?”
Keirith went down on his knees before her, careful not to come too close or touch her. He knew the instinctive lurch of fear when a hand reached out unexpectedly. Even one offered in friends.h.i.+p carried the memories of others that had brought only pain.
”Forgive me,” he said. ”I didn't think.”
With an effort, she pushed the memories away. ”You can't blame yourself for what they did. You have to put Pilozhat behind you.”
”Like you have?”
”I'm . . . trying.”
”So am I,” he whispered.
Impulsively, she held out her hand. He seized it eagerly.
”It's . . . I suppose it's natural,” she said, searching for something that would ease his misery. ”For us to think about him. About the things he did. And it's hard-G.o.ds, Keirith, I know how hard it must be. In his body.”
”It's mine now.”