Oath Keeper

It was a very different Kijamon who summoned the family to gather around the forge that evening. This Kijamon was not the man Tayna had seen earlier—the seemingly unstoppable idea machine who juggled twenty conversations at once. This was a softer Kijamon. A quieter, more contemplative Kijamon. He’d been that way ever since Abeni had returned from reporting to Mabundi.

“Matters of honor have been brought to the family,” Kijamon said, his gaze flicking toward his son. And then to her.

Tayna stepped back from the forge. “I, uh, should leave you to discuss it,” she said, but Kijamon raised a hand.

“Please stay,” he said, gesturing her back to her place. “As the closest witness in these matters, you honor our House by bearing witness to our decisions as well.” Tayna glanced around uncomfortably for a moment and then shrugged and resumed her place at the forge.

While there were several small clusters of furniture scattered around the perimeter, the middle of the room was empty, occupied only by the massive stone forge. Apparently, it could be moved around the workshop, to suit whatever Kijamon wanted to work on. Although how he moved something that big, Tayna couldn’t imagine. Until she remembered the Wagon.

The floor of the room was dotted with circular rings—caps that covered wind ducts, Zimu had explained. Each duct was a separate channel for the winds that raced upward through the Wind Forge from below. Each time the forge was moved, one of the covers would be removed and the forge centered over it, allowing Kijamon to harness the very wind itself to serve as his bellows. Hence the name: Wind Forge. And the actual forge at its heart had always served as the centerpiece to all serious family discussions in House Kijamon, as it did again now.

The entire family was in attendance, except for Sarqi, who, the Gnome Ambassador had been happy to inform them, was now a guest of King Angiron, although nobody seemed sure just what that meant.

Standing here now, included in such a private family meeting as this, Tayna felt a number of conflicting emotions. She felt sad that Sarqi wasn’t here, although glad that he was okay. She felt lonely, being an outsider in an unfamiliar place. She even felt a pang of jealousy. Family yours, peril great, and all that.

But most of all, it made her feel short. These people were huge.

“We gather the House to decide matters of Honor,” Kijamon began. “Since the first days of this dwelling, this forge has been the very crucible of our House, giving heat, and light, and work. Giving honor. Every matter of duty has been sworn by its light. Every judgment has been warmed by its heat. The very name of House Kijamon has been hammered and shaped in its flame. And so now today, do we forge honor again.”

Beside her, Abeni shifted awkwardly on his feet, as though he was the stranger here. Poor guy. Tayna reached out and patted his hand. Around the forge, the gesture was noticed, even drawing a smile from Abeni’s mother.

“We begin with a matter of duty,” Kijamon continued. “Abeni, youngest son of this House, stands in iron. Bonded to the Wagon and to the Warding of the Seekers Royal.”

With all attention focused on him, Abeni looked miserable, and he hung his head with shame, refusing to even meet Tayna’s gaze. It was heartbreaking and stupid, she decided, but she knew better than to say so.

“So my son,” Kijamon said. “Have you anything more to say? Anything you left out when you spoke your report?” When Abeni had first returned, he and Kijamon had spent a long time speaking quietly together in the corner. Abeni had seemed to do most of the talking. Tayna hadn’t heard what he’d said, but from the sadness and guilt on his face it could not have been anything good. Now though, in response to his father’s question, Abeni snapped his head up and his eyes blazed.

“To not say a truth is to say a lie! Abeni would not do this.” Then, apparently embarrassed for having let his temper get the better of him, he lowered his head once more.

“So you say. So you say.” Kijamon tapped his fingers on the forge. Then he turned to Tayna. “And you, Little Fish. Would you add anything to your tale?” After speaking to Abeni, Kijamon had asked her a few questions as well. Mostly to clarify details of things Abeni had not seen for himself. “Any other wonders that slipped your mind? Invisible Gnomes, maybe? Or talking beavers to throw into the story pot? The stew is already quite filled with amazement, but another morsel or two would not be amiss.”

Tayna looked quickly at Abeni, but her friend was still in his “just shoot me” position, and Zimu wasn’t much help either, offering nothing but a shrug when she looked his way. Great. Flying blind again. Tayna drew a deep breath and then turned to face the master of the house. She wasn’t sure exactly what Abeni had told him, but “everything” seemed the most likely. There were lots of things she wanted to say. Things to make her look less like an idiot, or to make Abeni look good, but she didn’t know the rules for this kind of thing, and the honor in question was Abeni’s, not hers.

“I don’t think it would be good for me to add anything,” she said. “I hardly know what’s going on here, and since nothing that happened makes sense to me, it would probably make less sense to you. Or I might say the wrong thing and make things even worse. I don’t want to get Abeni into worse trouble because of my stupidity. So no, sir. I think I’d better shut up now.” Then she did.

Kijamon nodded at this and then turned to address his family. “If none will speak further,” he declared, “then, having heard the deeds of Abeni, son of this House, Kijamon, of House Kijamon, will now speak honor’s word.” Abeni drew himself up straight and raised his head to meet his father’s eye.

“Abeni. You were charged by my bond—at the behest of Mabundi, King of the Djin—along with your brothers, to see the Wagon of Tears upon its sacred journey. In this task, you were further charged to bear with you the bodies of two fallen kings: Jallafa of the Djin, and Grinyak of the Gnomileshi. Now you have returned to my House, with no brothers, and an empty Wagon, which you flung down upon us from out of the sky, riding it, clutching it with the bare of your hands, like one who would wrestle a common bear. Do you deny this?”

“No, honored father. Abeni does not deny these things.” Firelight from the forge glittered brightly in Abeni’s shame-filled eyes.

“Then I must judge in accordance with the laws of honor. Abeni, third son of Kijamon, of House Kijamon, I declare that the honor of this House has been most well served.” There was a musical “clink” as the iron band on Abeni’s arm twitched and transformed into silver, as the honor charm of House Kijamon completed its process, guided by the binder’s pronouncement.

Shock stood starkly on Abeni’s face as he looked down at the new band on his arm. When he looked back up, tears spilled down his enormous cheeks. “But Abeni does not understand… He has touched the Great Wagon in flight. He has ridden within its sacred chamber while he yet breathed. In so many ways has Abeni dishonored his duties. Abeni begs Kijamon. Do not compound these failures with those of a father’s blindness. Unsay these words and say those that must be said.”

Kijamon looked at his son fiercely, but Tayna quickly saw that it was the fierceness of pride. It was Shaleen who spoke. “Abeni, do you question your father’s wisdom?”

Tears still running down his face, Abeni shook his head. “Nor does Abeni question the heat of the sun, nor the wetness of the river.”

Shaleen nodded. “Then think upon what he has said. What you did, you did in the moment that action was needed. Do you think honor requires you to act with the wisdom of having hours or days to think upon your course, when the world offers you only moments to consider? Would that be honorable of honor?” Abeni stared at his mother as though she were offering him a rope to safety, but it was one that he could not see.

Kijamon sighed. “Look, boy. Now that the preachy words are over, I’ll put it plain. You got handed a slimy stick. Sure, you got a bit of it on your fingers, but you grabbed it, you hauled it in, and you delivered it to where it was needed.” The old man began to count on his fingers. “First, you delivered both kings to the Gnomes. A bit unusual in the how of it, but it got done, and it wasn’t an easy thing. Second, somebody bashed you on the head and stuffed you into that chamber. Soon as you woke up, you climbed out. Wasn’t anything more you could have done, and even then, you didn’t pack your hammers and head for home. You always were a rock head. Third, you saw signs of trouble with the Gnomes, you recognized them as important, and then you came straight back to report them. And doing all this, you never abandoned the Wagon or left it unwarded. At no time did you take the easy way of giving up, and each time, it seems to me you found creative solutions to sticky situations. If there is one thing that does House Kijamon proudly boy, it is creative thinking applied to difficult problems. Were it up to me, I’d have given you gold for this, but I knew you wouldn’t be able to accept that, so the silver stands. I will not compromise further.”

“But ours were not the hands of grief!” Abeni protested.

Kijamon rolled his eyes, and his wife burst out in laughter. “Oh no!” she said. “I knew that was going to backfire one day.” Abeni looked back and forth helplessly between his parents, so his mother shook the laughter from her face and tried to explain. “Oh, Abeni! You were all so young at the time. Little boys getting into little boy mischief. Your brother Zimu had taught Sarqi to practice his signs in the dirt, and Sarqi…” But she couldn’t finish, and burst out into a fresh spasm of laughter.

“Filthy little ninx,” Kijamon muttered. “Your brother Sarqi made a most unfortunate sign on the silver of a chamber. This big, with mud,” he said, holding his hands shoulder-width apart and smiling, despite his fatherly duty to be stern about such things.

“What symbol?” Abeni asked.

Laughter had stolen Shaleen’s air and she could barely get the words out. “The sign of the Void!”

“Can you imagine if we had reached the next town without noticing?” Kijamon chuckled. Tayna didn’t get the joke, but she smiled politely and tried not to look as confused as she felt.

Finally, Shaleen seemed to regain her composure. “You see? We had to think of something. We couldn’t risk that one of you might find some new mischief, one that escaped our notice until it was too late. So your father came up with that rule about the ”hands of grief,“ and it worked like a wonder. We never had a single problem with mischievous tampering again. So we began to teach the other Warders this rule as well.”

Abeni looked at her as though she had sprouted demon wings.

“Oh, don’t be so serious, Abeni! It is a good rule, but rules are there to guide us in our thinking—not to stop us from it. You touched the Wagon, but it carried no Seekers at the time, so what of it? And do you really think there are rules for how to respect the Great Wagon when you are flying in it? That is a new thing, my son. There are no rules. And if there will be any, it will be you and Tayna here who speak them.”

Abeni did not look completely convinced, but he no longer looked scalded either. Beside him, Zimu smiled and reached up to pull the brown kerchief from his arm. Earlier, he had explained that when two people involved in the same duty were to be judged independently, it was customary that those judged first should cover the sign of their judgment until the others in the group had been judged. Zimu was now revealing that he too had served the honor of his House. But where Abeni had done so with silver distinction, Zimu had apparently earned a mere copper. Satisfactory. Abeni opened his mouth to protest, but Zimu shook his head.

“It is correct,” he said. “I did not call the sprites. I did not vouchsafe the Wagon. I did not find and protect the Little Fish. I did as I thought best, but there was no great honor in my trials nor in their solving. Only competence.” Abeni opened his mouth to disagree, but Zimu simply shook his head once more, tightly. The message was clear. I’m okay with this. Please do not dishonor my satisfaction. Abeni closed his mouth and nodded to his elder brother.

Seeing that her son was going to be okay, Shaleen stood up and excused herself, coming back a moment later with a large pot, which she set on the edge of the forge to stay hot. Tayna could smell it, and her mouth could smell it too, watering in anticipation. Boh-cho.

“So you accept my judgment?” Kijamon asked, as Zimu dipped mugs into the steaming pot and began passing them around.

With one last look at his brother, who truly did seem untroubled by the situation, Abeni nodded cautiously to his father. “Abeni accepts these things. He is honored by the wisdom of House Kijamon. And perplexed by it also.”

“Ha! That’s the spirit, boy! Think sharply, act boldly, and speak plainly. That’s the way of this House!”

The boh-cho brought a welcome respite from the solemnity of Abeni’s honor ceremony, and Tayna relaxed as the family seemed to unwind. She was just beginning to relax herself when Kijamon set his mug on the hearth and clapped his hands. “And now we must attend another matter of honor,” he said. Then he turned to face Tayna with a grimace of distaste.

“We must deal with the crimes of the Little Fish.”

The uproar that followed was unexpected, with both Zimu and Abeni protesting loudly. “Who dares say such a thing?” Abeni roared. “He will answer to Abeni!”

“The Little Fish has committed no crime,” Zimu added, looking at his father curiously.

The Master of House Kijamon nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “But so the House has been petitioned, and so the claim must be examined.” Zimu nodded his understanding, but Abeni was still furious.

“Kijamon must not believe such a thing! The Little Fish has been an honorable and fast friend to Abeni. If not for her…” But it was Shaleen who calmed her son.

“Of course she has. We know this. Do you think your father such a dullard as that?”

That took the puff out of Abeni’s sails, and his shoulders sagged. “No. Abeni does not think Kijamon dull-witted.”

“Well, that’s a start,” his father said. “Now, can we commence with the matter before the family?” Abeni nodded, and held his tongue.

“There are actually two problems concerning the Fish-girl here,” Kijamon continued. “First, there is the matter of the Gnomes. Quishek came by this afternoon to speak a formal claim. King Angiron demands her return. She has been found guilty of crimes against the Horde and against the Gnomileshi Crown—” Abeni tried to interrupt again, but Kijamon fixed him with a glare and he backed down, allowing the old man to continue.

“Clearly, Quishek is within his rights to present his petition. The girl is unbound to any House and has taken shelter on stone held by House Kijamon. Without standing, she must be delivered to her accusers—”

“But Kijamon cannot—” Abeni sputtered, but this time he was interrupted by a roar.

“SILENCE!” The fury in Kijamon’s face was there for only a brief moment before the old man composed himself, and then he brushed at his robe in apparent embarrassment for his outburst. “I’m sorry, boy. It’s not you I’m angry with. You have every right to defend your young friend, and more credit to you for doing so. But if you’ll let me finish, we’ll see what can be done, shall we?” Abeni let out a long breath and nodded.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Without standing, she must be delivered to her accusers and bound over for honor court among them. But I find that there is a second matter, which according to the laws of this House, must take precedence and be dealt with before considering claims from outside the House.” Zimu and Abeni both looked up, with curiosity on one face and confusion on the other. Shaleen patted Tayna’s hand and smiled, but she said nothing, allowing her husband to continue.

“So, Little Fish,” he said. “There is a matter of honor between us that I would discuss with you now.”

“Um, okay,” Tayna replied, unsure where this was going.

“It has been reported that you have rendered a number of services in recent times—services that have made it possible for a son of this House to return, and to bring honor with him.”

“I guess so,” she said. “But he’s done way more for me.”

“And honor to him for doing so, but that is in a different valley. It is you who now stands before us, and it is you to whom House Kijamon owes a debt. I would ask a boon of you.”

Tayna grinned. “You owe me a debt, and now you want to ask me for a favor? Shouldn’t it work the other way around?” Abeni’s eyes grew wide that she would talk that way to Kijamon, but the old man merely chuckled.

“You have the tongue of a jay-hawk,” Kijamon noted. “Quick and bold, yet full of laughing. Hold it still but a moment longer while I explain my boon. And then you may set it free, so that all might see where it may jab next.”

Tayna shrugged. “Okay. That’s fair. Ask away.”

“On three occasions you have stood by House Kijamon and rendered great service. In the first, you revived a son of this House from the brink of death by flame, snatching him back from the Grey Shepherd’s flock. In the second, you rescued that same son of this House from capture by another grim keeper—a Gnome King, no less—who has turned against all the Peoples of this land. And in the third, you preserved a great trust of this House—the Wagon of Tears—and held it safe from those who would use it to disrupt the Djin.” All around the table, heads were nodding in agreement as the old man concluded his list and looked around. Then he drew a deep breath.

“Do you—?” He paused and leaned his head toward Abeni, pitching his voice in a loud stage whisper. “What’s her true name? Surely it isn’t really ‘Little Fish?’”

Abeni smiled. “The Little Fish does not know the full name of her House,” he said. “She seeks it still, but the name of her heart is ‘Tayna.’”

Tayna couldn’t remember if Abeni had ever actually said her name before, and much as she liked their playful bantering and mutual name-calling, it made her feel good to hear him say it now. But she had to pay attention, because Kijamon was going back into preachy mode.

“Do you, Tayna, attest these services to be true? That they have been rendered of your heart, without expectation or deceit?”

“Well, sure. I guess. But Abeni did lots of great things for me too. You should have seen him tackle me out of the flames, and then when we were in the Cold-”

“It is well that you would share honor, but do not diminish that portion which is your own. You attest these services to be true?”

Tayna nodded. “I guess so.” Kijamon cocked his head at her and then flashed a stink-eye of mock irritation. “Okay. Yes.” Tayna put one hand over her heart and raised the other in the air. “I, Tayna, do solemnly swear that these services were true and honest and wholesome, like little kids, and oatmeal.” Kijamon smiled. She had no idea where this was going, but she got the sense that they were trying to do something nice for her, and since that didn’t happen very often in her life, it wasn’t something she wanted to miss. Maybe they were going to give her a souvenir boh-cho mug. She liked those.

“Having attested to these services, freely rendered, I, Kijamon, Lord of House Kijamon, extend to you the Keshwa-Ji. The Inclusion. Will you, Tayna, known in this House as Little Fish, do honor to Kijamon and Shaleen, and take their House to be your own? Will you stand as honor-daughter to House Kijamon?”

That’s when Tayna lost it and started to cry.

Celebrations continued around the forge for several minutes, as each member gathered Tayna into an embrace and welcomed her into the House. It was not an adoption, they explained. She was an adult, and as such, had no need for the protective swaddlings of childhood. There was nothing similar to it in Grimorl customs that she knew of. It was something like a business merger, except warmer and more personal, involving people instead of companies. But the two sides did not become one. It was an alliance in which each became a part of the other. Tayna had joined House Kijamon, and House Kijamon had joined House Tayna, should she ever start a House of her own. Technically, it did not extend to her family, should she ever find them, but in practice, they too would be treated as members of House Kijamon until Kijamon found reason to declare otherwise. But Tayna didn’t get far in her exploration of all the maybes and mightbes. When the hugs and smiles had all been shared out and enjoyed, Kijamon raised his hands.

“Now we must return to the other honor matter before the House,” he said, and the family settled themselves back into place around the forge, although Shaleen couldn’t help but reach over and squeeze Tayna’s hand, offering her a warm smile to go with it.

“The Gnome Court has made petition,” Kijamon said. “They claim that there is an unbound criminal hiding on the lands of this House, and that, without standing, she must be delivered to them and bound over to the honor court of the Gnome King.” Everybody around the forge was now beaming. At her. At Abeni. But most of all, at Kijamon, now shown to be a Master Sneak of the highest order, in addition to his other lofty accomplishments.

“After considerable search,” the shining-haired old man continued, “it is the finding of this House that no such unbound person could be located. The only girl present who could fit the charge is fully bound to House Kijamon, and therefore has its protection. The matter must be sent to the King of all Djin, for only he can deliver an entitled bondsman into the hands of a foreign realm. The honor of this House has been satisfied. This discussion is concluded. The King will be informed in the morning.”

Then Kijamon clapped his hands together and the preachy expression was gone, leaving an impish grin in its place. He leaned over to pat Tayna’s shoulder. “That ought to buy us some time at least,” he said. Then he dipped his mug back into the pot to get some more boh-cho.

The sky was still brilliant out through the window slots when Tayna excused herself from the chatter around the forge and stepped through the door that divided the open workshop from the living quarters. But night sets quickly in the mountains. One moment, the sun is low in the sky, blinding you with its cheeky glare, and the next, you’re plunging off a ledge you missed in the total darkness. So she was surprised to find Shaleen already preparing for bed.

“I’m sorry,” Tayna said, backing quickly out of the room.

“Come in,” Shaleen called. “Let’s get you settled.”

Tayna stepped cautiously back in. The room looked comfortable. Big enough for two, but not ostentatious. “I’m not really tired,” she said, fumbling around for something to say in what still felt like an awkward moment. “It really isn’t very late yet and I-”

“Two squares to dark,” the older woman said, gesturing high on the wall behind her. The roof of the Wind Forge was a vast arch that spanned the entire structure, sloping back to catch the full warmth of the sun. Along its lowest extent, evenly spaced holes in the stonework allowed natural light into each room of the studio, casting squares of brilliant light onto the stone walls above Tayna’s head. In this room, two identical magenta squares were visible where the reddish evening sunlight gleamed onto the blue of the stone. As she watched, Tayna could just see that one of the squares was getting narrower, as the sun set behind the mountain ridge and its shadow crept slowly across the face of the Wind Forge.

“Not much accustomed to the high places, are you?” Shaleen asked, conversationally. “Days last longer up high, but they start and end more suddenly. Best come along before you bang your nose in the night. Don’t want you looking like a Gnome now.”

Tayna followed her through what appeared to be the master bedroom, into another, smaller room beyond. This one had no sun clock on the wall—just one narrow slot of a window to let in air and the diffused, indirect light of a sunset sky, but this end of the studio was already in the shadow of the mountain, and it was only dimly lit.

“Dark rooms are best for busy young Djin boys,” Shaleen said. “This was Abeni’s room, when he was small. You’ll be comfortable in here, I think.” Tayna looked around. Like the other rooms of the studio, it was tidy and simple. Not much decoration, but then, when the walls are made of blue stone and etched with intricate veins of gold, silver, and crystal, how much extra decoration did you need?

The only ornaments at all were a few small shapes—toys by the look of them—arranged on the low table beside the bed. One, a round leather orb, caught Tayna’s eye. It was the size and shape of a baseball. When asked about it, the woman looked at her curiously. “You’ve never seen a coverlight?” she asked, and Tayna shook her head. “Odd. I thought they were common.”

So Shaleen showed her that the leather had a seam, which could be opened and closed, much like the seam on her boots. When the orb was open, a pale whitish light spilled out from the glowing stone inside, lighting up her hands and the walls around her. Shaleen explained that too much darkness was sometimes difficult for Djin children, especially before they could work magic of their own. So parents often placed coverlights like these in their rooms. With one, any child had power over their darkness, and this helped them to overcome their fear of it quickly.

There were a few other oddities on the table, but Tayna didn’t want to get that look again. The one that said, “What kind of weird kid are you that you’ve never seen one of these?” So she thanked Shaleen again. “Everything looks fine.” Then she yawned, surprising herself and earning a laugh from her hostess.

“It is as I told you. Little more than one square now until dark. Sleep will find you. You’ll see.” It only took her a few moments to show Tayna the low, hard bed, with its single blanket and strange bag-of-gravel pillow. Shaleen had turned and was about to leave when Tayna had a sudden, horrible realization and stopped her.

The woman turned back into the room. “Was there something else you needed?”

Tayna wanted to die of embarrassment, but she knew there was no way she could wait until morning. “Er, is there, um, like, a bathroom?”

“You wish to bathe?”

Tayna’s cheeks reddened. “Uh, no. Maybe you call it a washroom?”

Shaleen cocked her head, apparently bemused over what Tayna could possible be talking about, but having realized her need, Tayna’s situation was now suddenly urgent and she unconsciously began the dance of the full bladder. Shaleen burst out laughing.

“Oh! You mean the Void! Come girl, this way.”

So ten minutes later, after what were, without doubt, the three most embarrassing questions Tayna could ever remember having to ask, she was finally alone in her bed, just as shadows of sunset plunged the room into darkness. And as Shaleen had predicted, the darkness of night and the chill of the air wrapped themselves around her and dragged her quickly down into sleep.

Later that night, Tayna woke again. “Damned boh-cho,” she muttered, and she fumbled around on the low table beside the bed, feeling for the coverlight. Her hand closed on something, and immediately, a shock ran through her body, but the soft blue glow that crackled from between her fingers lit the room. Not the same coverlight, but it would light her way to the void just as well.

When she climbed back into bed, she set the coverlight back on the table, but it did not go out. Tayna was pretty sure this one hadn’t had a cover. It had been bare and cold when she’d picked it up. But there was no way she was going to be able to sleep with that glaring in her face all night, so she pulled the second blanket from where it had been folded at the end of the bed, and tossed it over the light. Voila. Instant darkness. Without giving it another thought, Tayna rolled over and went back to sleep.

Chapter 18