Saba turned from the western road and headed northeast into the hills, making his way on foot as the sun began to set. The outskirts of Bastul were populated by farmers who were attending to various tasks outside, trying to make the most of the daylight. Most of these hardworking people waved to Saba as he passed along the road, and he couldn’t help but think of the contrast in lifestyles between the city and country folk. These farmers worked from sunrise to sunset, sometimes even longer. But within the city, the workday had already ended hours ago so that the citizens of Bastul could enjoy baths and leisure time before their evening meals.
The small dirt path wound through the foothills for a short distance before cutting into a deep canyon dividing the mountain range. The setting sun cast strong shadows that separated the canyon into areas of intense orange light and patches of complete darkness. By the time Saba had climbed out of the canyon and into an area of rolling meadows, the sun had dropped behind the ocean. Saba turned off the road and followed a walking path between fields of mature lettuce and cabbage, ready to be harvested.
Just as expected, Trenus was still outside, washing the soil from his hands at the well. It was difficult to see in the fading light, but he was a short, sturdy man, with light brown hair. His clothing, like all country folk, was similar to what a slave might wear. His tunic, now stained with dirt from a hard day’s work, was not made of white linen, but of a coarser, thicker material that could stand up against the harsh lifestyle. His sandals were not really sandals at all, but boots that covered his feet completely and laced on the top of the foot. Trenus waved as soon as he caught sight of Saba. It took a few minutes before they were within earshot of each other, and by that time he had finished washing his hands.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving. I’ve been walking most of the day.”
Trenus smiled. “I’ve got a stew going. Come inside.”
The main house was a humble wood building with tiled roof and walls plastered on the inside. The layout was a departure from most houses in this region. There were only a few doors off the main living area, and it contained a limited amount of practical furniture. Obviously, Trenus had built this place for function only.
“Have a seat.” Trenus pointed to a table on the opposite side of the room. It was situated only a few feet from the stove, upon which a pot of stew simmered.
“Thank you,” Saba replied, slumping into the chair, grateful to be off of his feet. Once he caught his breath, he looked around the room. He had only been here for an hour a few days ago to drop off his belongings before he went back to the city to check on Maeryn. He felt bad now at barging in on Trenus, though it didn’t look as if it hindered his life one bit.
“What does that look mean?” Trenus asked, looking back at Saba while stirring the stew.
Saba decided to give him an honest answer. “This place needs a woman’s touch.”
“Yeah, I know. Maybe someday it will have that. But for now, I kind of like it.”
Saba nodded his head. “I must say, it is … efficient.”
Trenus laughed. “That’s one way to say it.” He brought two bowls of steaming food over to the table and set them down. Pulling back his chair, Trenus was about to sit down when he realized that he had forgotten the spoons. “Oops,” he said, turning around to grab those as well. “I’m not used to entertaining company.” He handed one to Saba.
“That’s quite all right. Thank you, by the way, for letting me stay here.”
Trenus waived his hand in dismissal. “Never mind that. Tell me how it went, though it seems obvious by your quick return.”
“I only made it as far as the market district before I was spotted.”
“Soldiers?” Trenus asked. “And they let you go?”
“Yes. I think I’ve worn out my welcome.”
The room was silent for a few minutes as the men began to eat their food.
Eventually, Saba looked up, wiping stew from his beard. “It looks like I will have to find something else to do.”
“Well, you know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
“Thank you. I guess I’ll unpack my things tonight.”
Trenus pointed at a door to the right of the stove. “That’s my only empty room, and it’s used mostly for storage, so you’ll have to forgive the mess.”
“I’m sure it will be just fine. Thank you.”
Several minutes passed before Trenus got up to refill his bowl. He offered to do the same for Saba, but the old man politely refused. “I’ve got so much on my mind that it has ruined my appetite.”
“Are you sure it’s not the stew?” Trenus asked, his face wrinkling into a smile.
Saba couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it’s not the food. Actually, you could probably make quite a living in the city selling your meals.” Saba suddenly felt relieved. Trenus had a way of lightening the mood that made for easy conversation.
“So,” Trenus began, “even though we’ve been acquainted for years, I still don’t really know much about you.”
“What would you like to know?”
“I’ve never asked you how old you are.”
“No, you haven’t,” Saba replied with a smile, trying to match the man’s sense of humor.
Trenus laughed before rephrasing his statement into a question. “Okay. How old are you?”
Saba looked down at the table. “Actually, I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean? It’s a simple question.”
Saba looked up and smiled. “Yes. For most people, it is a simple question. But I’m one of the exceptions.”
Trenus took his seat and began to eat from his second bowl of food, still carrying a puzzled look on his face.
Saba decided to make the attempt to enlighten him, though he was hesitant about sharing this information. “I’ve actually never told anyone this before.”
“Well, I’m honored,” Trenus replied. “Please, continue.”
Saba leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, settling into a comfortable position. “My first memory is of waking up inside a small, tent-like structure. I found myself lying on a bed of animal skins, clothed in a soft leather robe. There were no other people in the tent, so I just lay there, taking in my surroundings. Hours must have passed before I tried to sit up. It seemed like something I should be able to do, but when I tried, my body wouldn’t respond.” Saba looked up at the ceiling, trying to recall the details. “A few minutes later, a young woman came into the tent. She had long black hair and tanned skin, and she was dressed the same as myself. I immediately wondered if I was an elder of this woman’s tribe. I only thought of being an elder because I could see my own hair, which was already white at that point, reaching down to my waist. Indeed, she moved about the tent as if I was supposed to be there. I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to get her attention. Without the use of my body, I felt frustrated. For some reason, it took a long time before I realized that I could try speaking. I called out to her, but my words only came out as a grunt. When she heard me, she spun around, startled. She looked at me as if I was a ghost, and her skin became pale. Once she got the courage, she ran out of the tent, screaming at the top of her lungs. What shocked me more than my encounter with this woman was the fact that I knew she was screaming a foreign language, but I understood every word. She kept saying, over and over, ‘He is awake. The old one is awake.’”
Trenus set his spoon carefully into his bowl and leaned back in his chair. He had completely forgotten about eating and was now staring at Saba with his full attention. “How long ago was this?”
“Twenty years.”
Trenus’ eyebrows shot up. “You were already an old man back then …” he trailed off, trying to make sense of the story.
“I can see that if I tell you the whole story, you might end up more confused than me. So I’ll try to skip to the point. Apparently I had been living with these people for some time. They were a nomadic tribe, following herds of wild animals and living off of what they hunted. I asked them how long I had been with them, but they didn’t seem to understand. I asked them if they understood the passage of seasons and if they did, to make a mark in the dirt for every full cycle that I had been with them. The younger people all looked to an old man who was the elder of the tribe. He began to draw lines in the dirt.”
“How many?” Trenus blurted out.
“Nearly one hundred.”
The room was silent for a while before Saba spoke again. “Of course, his answer would be impossible. I don’t think he understood my question. Although they understood seasons, they had almost no knowledge of past generations of their own people. They concerned themselves only with the present. So … as you can see, I’m not sure.”
“And you have no memory of anything before?”
“Nothing,” Saba replied.
After minutes of silence, Trenus shook his head. “I’ve never heard of something so strange.”
Saba lifted his hands and shrugged his shoulders. “I agree with you. But that’s all I know.”
“What brought you to Bastul? I assume that all of this took place somewhere else?”
“Yes, it did, in another country,” Saba replied, answering Trenus’ last question first. “I began having dreams about a place that I had never seen. The dreams compelled me to search. I kept moving, staying with different people until the terrain around me matched what I saw in my dreams.”
“And that place was here?”
“Yes, in Bastul.”
~
After the meal, Trenus helped Saba move his belongings from the barn into the spare room. Trenus insisted on doing most of the work, handing a candle to Saba and telling him that lighting the way was all that was necessary. The work was completed in under an hour, and when the last crate had been moved, Trenus bid Saba goodnight and headed to his bedroom.
Though he had walked for almost an entire day, Saba knew that sleep would not come easily. His mind was still racing with worry about Maeryn, so he decided to unpack his essentials and spent several minutes just trying to make heads or tails of how the soldiers packed his things. He finally located his clothing and laid it out in piles on the floor, as there was no chest to put it in. In fact, there was no furniture in the room at all and Saba laughed to himself about what he would do for a bed. His belongings were either packed hastily in wooden crates or thrown into linen bags, and he knew that unpacking everything was too ambitious a project for one evening. Instead, he grabbed the nearest bag and began to untie the top. It rustled as if it was filled with paper, and after opening the top and removing a few handfuls of its contents, that guess was confirmed. There were papers and writing utensils and even a book. Saba realized that this bag contained everything that used to reside on his desktop in his bedroom. Several of the papers were smudged with half-dried ink from the tips of the writing quills. Luckily, Saba was in the habit of corking the inkpot after every use, or this whole bag would likely be a dripping mess.
Reaching down into the bag, his hand settled on a rolled-up piece of parchment. He pulled it out and questions immediately came to his mind, as he couldn’t remember putting anything like this on his desk. Turning it over in his hands, he saw that it was tied with a thread to keep its rolled shape. With his curiosity piqued, he quickly slid the thread off the tube of parchment and unrolled it, wondering how he could have missed this sitting on his desk.
Saba,
Something terrible has happened to an acquaintance of mine. I am looking into the matter, but have been unsuccessful in finding any useful information to this point. The only clue that I have thus far is this arrowhead. I leave it in your possession to find out what you can about the people who made it. I have been unable to find any meaning in it and would therefore be grateful for any information that would aid me in my searching.
Gratefully,
Adair
Saba put the parchment down and grabbed the bag, turning it upside down and shaking it to empty the contents. A few more papers fell out, but no arrowhead. He quickly rifled through the other bags that were present, shaking them to determine their contents until he found one that made a knocking noise when he set it on the floor. He untied the bag and dumped the contents onto the floor. Amid a shower of dried leaves and feathers, something heavy fell out of the bag and landed with a thump on the floor. He pushed aside the growing pile of debris until he found the broken shaft of an arrow with the head still attached. Moving it closer to the candle, he turned it over in his hands, inspecting every feature. The construction was similar to what the Orud military used, a metal head sharpened to a double-edged point, set into the shaft and held in place with a metal pin that extended through the whole arrangement. The pin and shaft were both wrapped tightly with silk thread that wound around the base of the head. The silk was frayed in a few places and was starting to unravel. Saba sat down on the floor and picked at the thread until it was completely unwrapped. As he started to pull the head from the shaft, he noticed a circular engraving in the wood that was covered by the thread. At first glance, it looked like a wreath. But upon closer inspection, Saba could see what looked like winged creatures gathered around in a circle with their wing tips touching.
Saba put the arrowhead down and sat back. For the first time in his life, he felt a twinge of memory, a link to his forgotten past. It was a faint feeling and didn’t provoke anything specific, but he had the sense that he had seen this symbol before.
* * * *
Three weeks had passed since Kael arrived at the monastery. So far, he was enjoying himself, though he missed his family. He wondered if his father had ever returned. His thoughts often drifted to his mother, who was probably very sad to be missing her husband and her son. Sometimes, at night, when everyone else was asleep, Kael would lie awake and picture his mother and father standing in front of him. He would tell them that he was okay and that he was being taken care of. He would try to explain all of the things he was learning and how Ukiru said that they would be the most well-educated children in all of the Empire, maybe even the whole world. He knew they couldn’t hear him, but maybe his thoughts would somehow find their way back to Bastul and they would be comforted. He always hoped.
Except for missing his family, Kael couldn’t have imagined a better place to live. The morning exercises were becoming a way of meditation, just as Ukiru said. In the silence of the sunrise, Kael found that it was easy to lose himself in the peacefulness of feeling his body move in harmony with his surroundings. Some of the other boys still joked with each other the whole time, but he just tried to ignore them. The midmorning studies were fun, but they weren’t as fun as learning from Saba. Still, Ukiru was a very good teacher. But Kael’s favorite part of the day was the physical activity in the afternoon.
The sun was bright through the open doors and the air was warmer than usual. Just as every other weekday, Kael stood with the other boys in the arena, facing Ukiru.
“For several weeks now, you have learned how to move your body and breathe steadily to create a strong center of balance. Some of you have grown bored with these exercises, but I assure you that they are necessary. Now that you have a basic understanding of balance, we will progress to defense.”
Kael’s attention was piqued at the man’s words. It was obvious that the other children were excited as well.
“Everyone spread out. Each of you will be paired with an attacker.” Ukiru walked among the boys, directing their steps until each child had plenty of room around him. A group of monks, who had been standing off to the side, now joined in, each facing one of the children. “The man in front of you is your partner. In a few minutes, he will try to attack you, and if you have paid attention to what you were supposed to be learning to this point, you will avoid his attack.”
Kael’s heart quickened slightly at the thought of confrontation. He wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Your defensive position for this exercise will be the one you learned during our morning meditation, called Tiger. Assume this position now.” At Ukiru’s command all of the boys leaned back and brought their hands up in front of their bodies. “Rainer, what does a tiger do?”
The boy looked around, unsure of the correct answer.
“It crouches,” whispered Coen.
“Thank you, Coen,” Ukiru said with a stern face. “A tiger crouches to be ready at any moment to spring into action.”
“Oh,” Rainer said aloud as he realized he was standing straight-legged. He quickly bent his knees and looked at the others to make sure he was in the proper position.
“Very good,” said Ukiru. “Now, your attacker will rush at you and try to grab you. From this position,” Ukiru demonstrated, “you will lift your back foot and lunge one giant step backward.” One of the monks, at Ukiru’s signal, rushed forward, trying to grab his clothing. Ukiru jumped backward just as he instructed and evaded the attacker’s hands. His quick and graceful movements made it look easy. “Now it’s your turn.”
Kael loosened his stance and made sure that his knees were not locked. He waited for Ukiru’s signal and the attacker lunged as soon as it was given. Kael was expecting more of a delay, but was still able to easily avoid his attacker. Arden was not so lucky. His attacker grabbed him before he could move, and he ended up tripping over his own feet. Sounds of muffled laughter could be heard as he got back to his feet.
“Once more,” Ukiru said. “Back into position. Everyone ready? Go.”
Once again the monk grabbed at Kael, but this time he was better prepared and was able to get much more distance between himself and the attacker.
“Very good,” Ukiru commented when he saw that everyone completed the exercise successfully. “Now, if you will notice, jumping backward only gives you a little more time before your attacker reaches you. Even though you have evaded him, he can simply keep advancing toward you, and I have never met anyone who could run backward fast enough to outrun someone who is moving forward. So, this time, we will jump to the right using the same technique.” Ukiru motioned for his attacker to advance and easily jumped to the side, returning to his crouching defensive position. “Now you do it. Ready? Go.”
This time Kael’s attacker got close to catching him, and when he was finished, a quick look around the room showed that he was not the only one. Horace was straightening his clothing after being grabbed by his partner.
“Do it again, but notice that you are moving to the side and not backward. You will not have as much time to get out of the way. Instead of reacting, try to anticipate your attacker’s move. Bend your knees and be ready. Wait for the slightest sign of movement, then spring out of the way. Get in position.”
Kael watched the attacker’s feet, waiting for Ukiru’s signal. Suddenly, the monk sprang forward and Kael jumped out of the way, barely missing the grasping hands. “Very good. Some of you were ready. Do it again. This time don’t wait for my signal, watch your attacker.”
The second time Jorn failed to evade his attacker, but the third time, everyone was successful. As the afternoon progressed they learned to evade their advancing attacker by jumping in combinations of different directions.
At the end of their time each child was breathing heavily, and Ukiru had them line up once more. “You all did well today. Some of you may have noticed that when evading to the side, your attacker left himself exposed and vulnerable on that side. What you learned today is the basis for a counterattack, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. Go and get washed up for the evening meal. You are dismissed.”
As each of the boys walked unhurriedly toward the main building, the monks stepped back and lined up near the door. Kael’s heart was beating rapidly when he walked out into the open air. The sun was beginning to set and the air had grown cold, but it felt good to his overheated skin. The evening meal tasted better than anything Kael had ever eaten, and when it came time to retire to his bedroom, he was unable to keep himself awake to think about how much he missed his family. He didn’t have much time to think of anything at all before his eyes closed and he fell into the deepest sleep he could remember.
* * * *
Maeryn lay awake in the early morning hours, watching the moon shadows dance along the wall. The nauseous feeling in her stomach woke her, and it was just the moment she had been waiting for. She spent many nights lying next to this evil man, trying to decide how to tell him that she was pregnant. To convince him that the child was his. There was no way to tell how he would react. Eventually, she realized that the best way to break the news was to let him find out by himself, to make it appear as if the two of them were discovering it together. Shortly after arriving at this decision, the sickness went away and Maeryn began to lose hope that things would go her way. That was one week ago. But tonight, the nausea returned, and the feeling was strangely welcome.
She climbed out of the bed, being careful not to wake Lemus. She had planned the whole event, and if he woke now, it would ruin everything. She tiptoed her way to the bathing room and found the toilet. Breathing heavily, Maeryn flexed her stomach to make it irritated. It took a while and she began to wonder if anything would happen at all, but finally her stomach obeyed and she began to gag. After a few seconds passed, she could hear Lemus stirring in the bed.
He’s probably annoyed at the disturbance of his sleep.
She decided to make it louder so that there was no chance of him falling back to sleep. Her stomach heaved again and she did her best to make it as loud as possible. After several minutes, Lemus was standing in the doorway.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in a muffled voice.
“I’m sick,” Maeryn mumbled between gags, trying to look as pathetic as possible. It wasn’t difficult under the circumstances.
“Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?” he shot back, his irritation never too far below the surface of his personality. “Why are you sick? Is it something you ate?”
“I don’t think so.” She hesitated, wanting him to draw it out of her.
“Well, what’s the problem then?”
“I think I’m with child.”
Lemus stared at her with a blank look on his face. “How long has this been going on?”
Maeryn lifted her head from its drooped position and looked him in the eye. “A few days,” she lied. “I thought it would go away, but it hasn’t.”
“That’s ridiculous. There is no—”
“It usually happens in the morning,” she interrupted, trying to distract him from his train of thought. “But sometimes … at night.”
Lemus was speechless for a moment, and Maeryn secretly rejoiced at the way everything was turning out. “I have work to do in the morning,” he finally stated, but with less conviction than she was used to hearing in his voice. “I’m going back to bed.”
As Maeryn listened to his retreating footsteps, she knew that it had worked. Not one word was mentioned of Adair. In fact, it seemed that Lemus had all but forgotten about him. If he acted as she expected he would, it would be days before Lemus would revisit the subject.
He won’t like the idea of having a child at first. But when he accepts the fact that it will happen regardless of how he feels, he’ll change his opinion. In a few days, he’ll come bursting into the room, talking about the legacy he will leave to his children, as if the whole thing was his idea in the first place.
Maeryn had never been the type of person to manipulate others, but now it was a matter of survival. Her old life was gone, forever changed. This was her life now, and it was horrible for the most part. But like Zula said, she would have to change the way she looked at the world, to find little things to make her happy. And she had to admit, despite her new position in life, she felt more powerful than she ever had before, and that gave her a small measure of satisfaction.