Shadow of the Horsemen (Kalie's Journey) (25 page)

Riyik looked away. Kalie pressed her point. “Had he killed you, I would have been his. For the rest of my life, he could have done to me what he did by the spring, and no one would have called it rape. And he would have done it to Varena too.”

Riyik’s knuckles shone white where he gripped the spear. “You still should have trusted me,” he whispered.

“Yes, I should have,” Kalie said sadly, suddenly wishing she could bridge the gap between them.

“I will kill Haraak,” Riyik said, more calmly. “And I will do it without putting you or Varena at risk of falling into his hands.”

“You will not challenge him, then?”

“As you pointed out, that is what he is counting on.”

Kalie began to relax then. Yes, she should have known Riyik would not be like the other men here. With the easing of tension, came a clearing of her mind. “Killing you was always part of Haraak’s plan,” she said. “Even before he chose to use me as the means. Why?”

Suddenly Riyik looked embarrassed. “I fear he has learned of my plans, as well. Not the part about going west with you, though that is the hardest part. I promised to take you home; to live there with you if your people would accept me. I have come to realize now that I cannot.”

Kalie had never expected Riyik to come home with her. Yet now she felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. I can’t do this without you! she wanted to shout. Instead she took his hand and squeezed it lightly, as one friend offering another support. “What has happened?”

“I found many followers willing to travel west with us. Men who did not fit in to this life; men who were sick of the corruption and dishonor that Haraak and his kind have brought to our land; men who just wanted the adventure of new sights and new ways. Then, as I got to know them better, I saw they were a more diverse mix than I realized. Like spring water contaminated by dirt and sand. If you set the cup down and wait long enough, the pure water rises to the top, and the sand and grit settles on the bottom.

 
“I began to see them as two camps. One consists of men who want to come, but should not. Oh, they listen well enough when I explain what this new life will entail. They say they are eager to meet women who speak their minds and men who have skills at things other than war. But beneath that I sense…”

“Men of little status on the steppes, who dream of carving out their own kingdoms in a land of easy pickings?”

Riyik looked startled. Then he laughed ruefully. “I guess you saw all that before I did. Before I even chose them.”

“I feared it,” Kalie said. “But what of the other camp? Those that are the water which rises to the top?”

“They are men who would make your world proud to ally with the warriors of Aahk. They would teach your people to defend themselves, and die in their defense. But they—we—have all agreed that our duty to our own comes first. We cannot travel west until we have cleansed our tribe of the corruption that poisons it and set it once more on the path of honor.”

Kalie remembered the day Riyik had offered to go west with her. She had known then that he could not leave his countrymen in the hands of a man like Haraak, and she had been right. That didn’t make hearing it any easier.

She found she was still holding Riyik’s hand. He lifted hers to his lips. “I love you Kalie. In ways I have never loved anyone. But if I left with you now, I would always know myself for a coward and an oath-breaker. I could never become the kind of man your people could accept, or the husband you deserve.”

“I know, Riyik. And that is part of why I love you.” With a startled look, they both realized that she had finally said it. She wasn’t sorry.

“What of the alliance?” she asked. What was left of it, anyway. “And who will be king of the tribe of Aahk?”

“Reasonable questions. And they create more problems. If we stay on the steppes, and the alliance remains, we will be strong; strong enough, perhaps, to survive the winter, and the hard times beyond.

“If the alliance fails—and many among us think that it should, that the times ahead are a test by our own gods, for us alone—who knows how many of us will survive the winter? But those who do…they will be like a spear, tempered by fire. Like a fine tool, shaved to its core…” Again Riyik stared at things only he could see.

“And the new king?” Kalie prompted.

Riyik brought his full attention back to her. “Some say it should be me.” He looked searchingly at Kalie.

She was looking for an appropriate reply when a wave of laughter took her. Riyik seemed more puzzled than angry, and when Kalie could finally speak again, she hastened to explain. “What a system of government you people have! You would indeed make the best of kings, my love, but you fear you are not worthy and that the job will corrupt you. Yet of course, that is why it must be you! In this land, only someone who does not want the job is right for it, while those want it are made unfit by the very qualities that make them seek it in the first place!”

Then Riyik laughed as well. “So I myself have discovered after many sleepless nights. If I had spoken with you sooner, I’d have saved myself much grief.”

“But the answer would still be the same,” Kalie said sadly.

“Yes it would. And it would still all come down to this: tomorrow night, under the dark of the moon, you must take Yarik and Varena, Brenia and Barak, and leave this camp, with provisions, and those of your followers who are willing. Before the sun has risen the next day, I and my followers will move against Haraak, and let the gods decide all our fates.”

So soon? Kalie had worked for this moment since she had arrived over a year ago, yet was now discovered that she wasn’t ready.

“Before that happens,” Riyik continued, “I would like very much to lie with you as a husband and w—“ He stopped. “—As a man and a woman whose souls are one. As a man and woman of your people do. If you will show me how.”

And Kalie decided that she wanted it too. She realized as they began, first awkwardly, then with growing skill, that she had never before shown a man how to do it. Teaching a willing partner, she discovered, was more arousing than the practiced skill of her most experienced lover.

And perhaps, knowing that this might be their last—their only—time together, they loved with a passion greater than they would otherwise have. They rolled together in the felt tent, sometimes with Riyik on top, sometimes Kalie. And when at last he entered her, there was no pain, no memories of Haraak or Maalke. Only a sense of rightness, and a longing that it might always be this way.

Kalie awoke before the first light of dawn. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. She felt warm and rested and something inside her was insisting that she stay this way and not spoil everything by waking up.

Slowly, exquisitely, she became aware of Riyik’s body against hers. His heart was beating gently against her side. Close to hers and for a moment, it seemed, in time with hers.

Then, as she came fully awake and he remained asleep, their heartbeats lost synchronicity and Kalie gently disentangled herself from him, more to take a long uninterrupted look at him than from any desire to get up and start the day.

The features of his face, so serious, so often troubled during the day were serene now. A half smile tugged at his full sweet mouth. He rolled over, muttered something, and began moving his hand along the spot Kalie had just left, as if searching for someone.

Riyik opened his eyes. The half smile blossomed into something beyond beautiful when they focused on Kalie. He was about to speak, then suddenly sat up, reaching for the spear that was never far from a horseman’s hand. Then Kalie heard what Riyik had: the heavy footfalls of many men. When they stopped before the door flap of the tent, raised angry voices had joined them. Kalie knew from the way the sound filled every part of the tent that they were surrounded.

The flap was jerked open without ceremony. “Come out, traitor!” yelled a voice Kalie did not recognize. Riyik set down his spear, glancing at Kalie and shaking his head sadly. He kissed her once, hastily pulled on his trousers and made his way to the front of the tent.

“Stay here,” he told her. Kalie looked around the tent and saw that everyone was there: Varena held a whimpering Yarik, while the two young serving women struggled awake. Agafa, fully awake sat like a statue, a look of bleak resignation on her face. They must have come in after we fell asleep, Kalie thought. Did anyone get supper?

Riyik slipped from the tent, pushing the flap closed behind him. It was jerked open a moment later, and a booming voice ordered everyone out of the tent.

“What is the meaning of this?” Riyik demanded of the dozen or so warriors gathered outside his tent. Kalie crawled out in time to see a warrior strike Riyik’s face by way of an answer, while another was busy tying his hands behind his back. Varena came out, carrying Yarik. Kalie took the boy and put an arm around Varena, holding her close. The girl stood tall and proud beside her adopted mother. If she felt fear, she did not show it. The three servants huddled nearby, fear-filled faces veiled.

“Take them before the king!” shouted one of the men. Two remained behind and entered the tent as the rest began to move. Kalie realized they would be searching it. The Horse-Killers! Had she even bothered to hide them before she went to see Cassia?

They marched through the sleeping camp as dawn slowly brightened the eastern sky.

Soon, everyone was awake and watching the procession. Most of the men followed behind, speculating loudly on what was going on, or raced ahead to the king’s tent to be among the first to find out. Women and children peeked out of tents as the prisoners passed, then shrugged and began the mundane labors of the day.

When they reached the open space before the king’s tent, most of Kariik’s chiefs and high ranking advisors were already gathered, seated on stools and looking more pompous than serious. Kalie automatically looked for Haraak, surprised to find him missing. He arrived just moments later, at the head of another group of prisoners. Kalie recognized many of them as men Riyik hoped to bring west. Haraak searched the crowd, his gaze pausing only briefly on Kalie, then resting on Riyik with a satisfied smirk.

When everyone was assembled, Kariik finally emerged from the tent, adjusting his tunic and tying on his belt, and looking angry at having been awakened.

“What matter is so important it could not wait for a decent hour?” Kariik demanded.

“Treason, my king,” said one of the men who had arrested Riyik. “A group of your loyal warriors have uncovered a plot to kill you and all your kin, and make this man—“ he pointed at Riyik, “—king in your place.”

“That is a lie!” Riyik shouted. Kalie wasn’t sure which part he was denying. Based on what Riyik had told her the night before, the accusations might not be far from the truth.

Other men were named. Some were members of Riyik’s very real conspiracy. The rest, she suspected, were men whom Haraak, or one of the other power brokers, simply wanted to be rid of.

Kariik at least seemed to be showing more interest now. “Have you uncovered what means these traitors planned to use to slay their king?” he asked.

Haraak nodded to two younger warriors, and they came forward, carrying a large hide between them, which sagged beneath the load of whatever it carried. Riyik and his friends exchanged puzzled glances, and Kalie leaned forward in sudden dread at what she would see.

Haraak left the king’s side and strode forth, lifting a skin of kumis from the pile. “Poison!” he shouted in voice loud enough to carry through the camp. “So vile and unnatural that no warrior would have even suspected it of one of his brothers. Yet it is true. These were taken from Riyik’s own tent! And yesterday another batch was found. Not so many, it’s true, but just as deadly.”

“It’s true,” said chief Kahlar. “We tested some on a slave, who now lays dying, yet still not able to cross over. A hideous kind of living death is what our so-called brother intended for our king and those loyal to him!”

The crowd was in uproar. Kalie was reminded of the time Yasha was stoned to death. Kariik sat frozen on his costly wooden stool, as though he were carved out of wax.

“Those weren’t Riyik’s—“ Kalie shouted, trying to be heard over the crowd. She surged forward, trying to reach Kariik, only to be stopped by his guards and shoved roughly to the ground. When she gained her feet she saw Riyik waving to her frantically and shaking his head. “NO!“ He shouted. Kalie could not hear him over the roaring crowd, but could read his face well enough. Implicating herself would not save Riyik. She would just have to keep silent and watch, and seek an opportunity to free him.

How had Haraak found out about the kumis? And what could she do now? Kalie was prepared to trade her life for victory over her enemies, but she hadn’t planned on trading Riyik’s. Or anyone else’s she thought with sick horror, as the next victim of this farce was brought forward.

A pair of warriors dragged Brenia before the king. “Why is this woman here?” Kariik demanded.

“We believe it was she who brewed this kumis, and had the knowledge and means to create the poison,” a nervous looking young warrior blurted out too quickly. Probably promised advancement for pretending to be the one who figured it out, Kalie thought. “The poisoned kumis we found yesterday was in her tent.”

“Then where is her husband, who is the owner of the tent and everything in it?” Kariik demanded, nearly rising from his stool.

“Here, my king!” came a breathless voice. Hysaak came forward on his own, rather than being brought by guards. But only because he was moving so fast, Kalie thought.

He stopped at a safe distance from the king and bowed low. “It was I who discovered my wife’s treachery! I returned late to my tent the night before last. The kumis skin was empty—typical of my useless wife’s housekeeping! I searched the tent for more, thinking she had already packed it with our travel rations, and I found these.” Hysaak pointed to the small pile of skins that had been set out by still more warriors as he spoke.

“I knew at once that something was wrong from the taste. Then I began to feel very strange. I am certain that if I had drunk anymore I would now be dead.”

“As you will be soon,” someone in the crowd called out. At once others took it up as a chant. Hysaak blanched.

“So it is your claim that your wife is behind a plot to murder your king? And that you knew nothing of what was going on within your own tent?”

Hysaak’s desperate denial was swallowed by the laughter and jeering of the crowd. When they finally quieted enough for him to be heard Hysaak’s voice was barely a squeak. “It is her brother who is behind all of it! Anyone can see that! It was his orders she followed, not mine!”

Members of the crowd began to call out lewd jokes about men who couldn’t control their own wives, but Kariik silenced them with a raised hand.

“Why did you not come to me immediately?” Kariik demanded.

“I did!” Hysaak nearly shrieked. “I was stopped from disturbing your rest by your own loyal guard!” He pointed to the nervous young guard who had denounced Brenia, then frantically beckoned him forward. The man did not move, nor did he meet Hysaak’s eye. “He said he would take care of the matter!” Kalie could smell his sweat from where she stood. How different he looked from his wife, who stood calmly with her head held high.

“Well?” Kariik demanded, looking for once like a king as he fixed the guard with a black stare. The boy began to squirm, then to search the crowd.

Haraak stepped forward. It’s about time you showed your hand, Kalie thought. “My king, as you know, I have been investigating reports of this treachery for some time. When this news was brought to my attention, I knew I had to flush out all the traitors at once, or risk leaving some to begin plotting again. Surely the king can see how dangerous it would be for even one to escape justice, at such a time as this.”

Kariik took all this in, as the crowd fell silent, straining to hear every word.

Into this silence, Riyik spoke up calmly. “If those who pretend to be your friends are finished, my king, may I now have my say?”

“Do not allow the traitor to speak!” Chief Zavan shouted, though he sat near enough to Kariik to be heard whispering. There were many in the crowd who echoed his words.

But others wanted to hear what Riyik had to say. He was a warrior, they argued, and any warrior—even an accused traitor—had the right to speak in his own defense.

“I will not coat my words with honey, in the manner of men who seek to curry favor with a king,” Riyik began. “And I will speak the truth, though doing so will only hasten my death.”

Silence reigned. Riyik spoke into it.

“I was once proud to bear the name of Warrior of Aahk, but no longer. Once, our people valued the freedom to roam the steppes over warfare with all whom we met. We fought to show our might against those who challenged us and to protect what was ours. Now, we seek only to take what others have, and rarely fight anyone who is not weaker than ourselves. Of late, it seems unarmed people who do not fight at all are our targets of choice.”

A soft muttering began, like the quiet before a storm, but Riyik pitched his voice above it, and it carried all the way to the fringes of the crowd. “We have spawned men who have slain their own king and seek to put a puppet in his place.” Riyik’s gaze finally sought Kalie’s. “And, we have spawned men who have made slaves of strangers who dealt honorably with us. People who tended our wounds when we were lost and injured. People who deserved our respect.”

Haraak was whispering frantically in Kariik’s ears, while others who surrounded the king began shouting for Riyik to be silenced. This time, however, the crowd did not join in. They, it seemed, wanted to hear more.

Riyik, perhaps sensing time was short, raised his voice above the din. “I have only one more thing to say! I freely admit to plotting to bring down those who murdered King Aahnaak and betrayed our people. But my family is innocent!” He took a step closer to Kariik, and held his gaze. “I beg you my king: prove me wrong in thinking you to be only a witless tool of ruthless men! Allow my wife to return to her people, taking my sister and those of my household who wish to accompany her. This once, think for yourself and make a decision which is right…”

The storm broke and the roaring of the crowd closed over Riyik’s words.

But Kalie knew that she never loved anyone more than she loved Riyik at that moment. And she wanted desperately to tell him that.

There seemed to be as much shouting going on between the men seated in front of Kalie as in the crowd behind her. She began to move closer to Riyik. Then Kariik stood, and silenced his people with such stony calm that Kalie thought Riyik’s words had had some effect. But when order was restored, and everyone waited for their king’s judgment, his face clouded, his eyes uncertain again.

He looked toward Haraak, then checked and turned away before their eyes met. Kariik turned instead to Hysaak, who stood in a little cleared area which no one but Elka, hand over her bulging middle, was willing to share with him.

“As king I shall pronounce sentence over the men who broke their oaths to me. But a wife who breaks faith with her husband is a different matter. Hysaak, I find you free of fault in this matter.” Hysaak seemed ready to faint with relief. “But what of your wife? Her punishment falls to you; it would be beneath a king’s dignity to say otherwise.”

Hysaak did not even look at his first wife. He spat upon the ground in Brenia’s general direction and said, “I throw her away, my king. Let her die with her brother if it pleases you.”

Brenia showed no reaction to her husband’s words. Kalie saw she was looking off in the distance, to the west, with a kind of sorrowful longing.

“Nothing pleases me at the moment,” Kariik said to Hysaak. “But you, at least are free to return to your tent. As for these others…” Kariik turned to look at each of the prisoners. He tried once again to avoid Haraak’s gaze, then gave up. “They shall all die tonight.” Haraak gave an audible sigh of relief.