Freeing Nivaka Page 5

  The cold spring breeze blew through the Square, unfettered by the surrounding trees, and cut through Alija’s sweat-soaked clothes. Brilliant oranges and pinks painted the sky by the time they made it across the Square to the Gadonu’s home. When they drew near, Dalan rushed ahead and held open the door. Barely a breath had passed before Valasa’s broad form appeared in the doorway, blocking Alija’s view of the welcoming interior.

  A few more halting, trudging steps later, they made it through the door and into the warmth of the healer’s home. Valasa had apparently been waiting for them since a cot lay across two chairs just inside the door. Alija and Wayra helped Kai onto the stretcher, and he collapsed face-down onto it as soon as they released him.

  Alija longed to drop into one of the plush chairs or onto the overstuffed couch across from them, but he didn’t want to ruin them with the sweat and blood that soaked his clothes.

  “Help me carry him to my study.”

  Valasa’s booming voice startled Alija, and he jumped to take one end of the stretcher. Wayra stepped up beside him, and they lifted the light wooden frame together. Valasa took the other end, leading the way into a brightly-lit study. Normally, the room would have elicited a great deal of interest, since no one was ever allowed in the healer’s inner sanctum, but he didn’t have the strength to get excited about the rare occurence.

  Exhausted and straining under the weight of the stretcher, Alija got a vague impression of books and scrolls, bottles and tubes lining floor-to-ceiling shelves along the narrow room, but he didn’t raise his head to get a better look. His gaze focused instead on Kai’s mangled back.

  Valasa ushered Alija, Wayra, and Dalan out of the study and into the den beyond.

  “There’s food in the kitchen,” he said, his voice softer than Alija had ever heard it. “Get yourselves something to eat while I tend to Kai.” When they didn’t move, he, “It’s not as bad as I expected. He’ll be all right. You all need food and rest, too. I’ll come get you when I’m finished.”

  Alija followed Dalan to the cozy breakfast nook in the kitchen and let the cook press a mug of steaming famanc into his hand. Cook had made it precisely the way he liked it: strong and sweet, so the flavor of the Shadow Tree’s beans soothed and warmed him from within. Safe and warm after the most trying day of his life, he fought the urge to lie his head on the table and fall to sleep.

  ~*~

  Kai awoke late the next afternoon. Alija, Dalan, and Wayra had stayed by his side through the night and day, unwilling to leave him alone in Valasa’s infirmary. He lay on his belly on the narrow bed, and the friends had turned his head every few hours to keep him from waking with a sore neck. Seeing his eyes flutter open, Alija jumped up and grabbed the water pitcher.

  Kai rolled to his side and pushed himself up with a pained groan. “How bad is it?” His voice cracked, and he pointed to the pitcher. “I need some of that.”

  “My father says it’s not as bad as he expected,” Dalan said. “You’ll be up and about again in a week or so, as long as you don’t take a fever.”

  Kai gulped the water and held the cup out for more. When he’d drunk his fill, he craned his neck over his shoulder. “You sure it’s not bad? It feels bad.” He leaned forward, wincing with the movement.

  The door swung open, and Valasa strode into the room, a broad smile on his face. “You’re awake. Wonderful. How do you feel?”

  Kai glared and raised the cup to his lips.

  “I guess that answers that.” He laid out fresh bandages and ointments on the table by the bed. “Let’s have a look and see how you’re doing.”

  Alija watched as the healer peeled the bandages away from Kai’s back. Since Valasa had cleaned away the blood and slathered the wounds with an aromatic poultice, it didn’t look as bad as it had the day before, but red, raised welts and deep cuts crisscrossed his entire back. Blood oozed from the deeper lacerations as Valasa dabbed a clean cloth over the wounds.

  When he’d finished and left the room, Alija leaned close to Kai. “We have to do something. This can’t happen again——to anyone,” he whispered. “We have to get rid of Tavan.”

  Wayra spread his arms. “What can we do? Training obviously didn’t work. We wouldn’t have a chance if we tried to fight. And getting rid of Tavan won’t work. His second in command will just take his place.”

  “Well, we’ll have to get rid of them all, then. What if we didn’t fight, but snuck up on them——maybe in the middle of the night?” Dalan whispered.

  A glimmer of hope sparked in Alija’s chest. “You may be onto something. Wayra, your house is right across from the guards’ house. Could you watch and see when they change during the night?”

  Wayra hesitated. “Do you really think we can do this? Is it worth the risk?”

  “We have to,” Kai said. “We have to stop him before we end up with another nightmare revolt. Sneaking up on them’s our only hope to succeed.”

  “Maybe,” Dalan said. “Or maybe not. Wayra, isn’t your aunt a cook for the soldiers?”

  Wayra nodded. “Well, yes, she’s the head cook. But what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Couldn’t she slip some kind of poison or sedative in their meal? That would make our job a whole lot easier,” Dalan said.

  “That’s a great idea! I know she’ll help,” Wayra said, his voice somber. “They executed one of her assistants last month for using too much spice in a cake. The governor accused the girl of trying to poison him.”

  “Great,” Alija said, though his insides quivered in terror. If they didn’t succeed, Tavan would kill them all and tighten his iron fist further on the people of Nivaka.

  “Well,” Dalan said, “it’s two and a half weeks until the new moon—when none of the moons shine. Can we do this then? Or do we wait another month?”

  “That’s not much time,” Wayra said with a frown. “What do we all need to do to get ready?”

  They all spoke at once, and Dalan held up his hands. “One at a time,” he said, chuckling.

  He crossed to the desk, pulled a pen and a pot of ink from the drawer, and seated himself in front of a blank page.

  “I heard weapons, advisers, guards…” He mumbled the words, scribbling furiously. “What else?”

  Alija glanced from face to face. “We’ll need to know where the governor sleeps,” Alija said. “Is there any way to find that out ahead of time?”

  They spent the afternoon planning, though they had more questions than answers. Before Alija and Wayra departed for the night, they agreed to meet each morning at Valasa’s house for further planning, since that meeting place wouldn’t likely arouse suspicion in the governor or his guards, at least while Kai remained in the healer’s care.

  11

  Celebration

  “Oh, that was perfect.” Tavan closed the door behind Corlim and leaned against it. “Did you see their faces? What a great idea.” He clapped Corlim on the shoulder and strolled around the desk.

  “Yes, sir. I’m sure they learned not to cross you.”

  “They certainly did. We should celebrate. That little show will keep anyone else from trying again anytime soon. Call Cook. I want a feast tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.” Corlim cocked his head and met Tavan’s gaze. “It might be best to give Cook the night off, though, and let her assistants prepare the feast. One of those men is her nephew, after all.”

  “Very well. Give her a few days off to coddle her idiot nephew. I’d hate to have to execute her if she tried to poison my meal, like the last one.” He shook his head, remembering. “She’s too good in the kitchen. Yes, I think a few days should do the trick nicely.”

  “Consider it done. Who do you want to invite to dinner?”

  “Invite the guards that caught those weasels and the ones that riled them up before the hearing.” He paused. “In the meantime, I’m going to go talk to that burned soldier. I need to get his report. I may question the other one again, too.”

  Corlim s
hook his head and refused to meet Tavan’s eyes. “I’m sorry sir, but that won’t be possible. The burned one died of his wounds this afternoon, and the other tossed himself off the rail when he heard the news about his companion.”

  With a huff, Tavan turned his back on his friend. “It’s probably just as well. He didn’t seem very… sturdy. I wouldn’t have been able to send him back out. Is the next expedition almost ready?”

  “Yes, sir. Two dozen men will leave in the morning. Should I send them east again? Or should we try west or south?”

  “East. The teams we send west and south come back unmolested every time, always empty-handed. No. Something is happening in the east. We need to find out where it is. It’s probably the special tree Helak’s been looking for. Even if we can’t harvest it right away, I’m sure Helak would promote me just for finding it.”

  “Yes, sir.” Corlim grabbed the doorknob but hesitated. “The men are getting jumpy. If this group doesn’t come back, you might consider sending the next team or two into the safer parts of the forest, so the others can see a couple of expeditions come back.”

  “You’re probably right. Send this team east and use your judgment for the next one.”

  With a nod, Corlim swung the door open and swept out of the room, leaving Tavan alone with his ledgers.

  Occupied by his work, Tavan passed the afternoon composing a message to Helak—though he left out any mention of the most recent expedition—and tracking the places in the nearby forest where his scouts had either tangled with the groundfolk or vanished completely. As much as he wanted to blame the villagers’ ancient enemies on the ground for the scouts’ disappearances, the skirmishes were scattered over the entire map. The missing soldiers, however, had all vanished from the area east of the lake, two days’ walk from the village.

  “There’s something there,” he muttered, chewing the end of his pen. “But what?”

  “Corlim!” Tavan tapped his pen on the table, the staccato rhythm counting out the seconds until his adviser appeared in the doorway.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “How many soldiers are you sending?” Tavan continued tapping his pen on the page, his mind whirling with the implications.

  “Two dozen, just like all the rest, sir.”

  “Double it.”

  “All right. Have you learned something, sir?”

  “Nothing we didn’t already know.” He lifted the map and pointed to the cluster of dots beyond the lake. “There’s something there. Clearly, twenty-four men aren’t enough to get through it, so we’ll send twice that many. Surely, at least a few men out of almost fifty will be able to punch through and get into the forest beyond that, right?”

  “Good point, sir. Consider it done.” Corlim hesitated, his hand hovering above the doorknob.

  Tavan raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”

  “May I sit down, sir?”

  “Certainly. What’s bothering you?”

  Corlim settled into the chair across from the Governor. “I heard something today that I think you should be aware of, sir.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The woman you’ve been visiting, sir. She’s spreading rumors that you’re about to announce an engagement. Is there any truth to it?”

  Laughter erupted before Tavan could stop it. “No. The girl’s a bigger fool than the rest of them. She’s apparently with child and wants to pin the brat on me. I don’t believe it for a second. I’m sure she has another beau who fathered her child. It’ll grow up to be just as stupid as its mother.”

  “If I may say so, sir, it might do well for your image if you were to marry her and raise the child as your own.”

  The laughter died on Tavan’s lips. “How am I supposed to advance in Helak’s army——become the next general as I should——if I’ve got a fool woman and idiot kid trailing after me?”

  “Well, I——”

  “No. I’m going to find the center of this miserable jungle, take the prize back to Helak, and take my rightful place as his top general. There’ll be no more talk of wives or children. Get that expedition together. They leave at dawn.”

  Corlim strode out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

  “What a miserable mess,” Tavan muttered. Cursing, he returned to the ledgers and crossed out the names of the soldiers that had died in the last expedition. He’d need more reinforcements from Helak if the next group met the same fate.

  12

  Waiting

  Kai grew stronger with each passing day, and as Valasa had predicted before a week had passed he was eager to get back outside. He’d been cooped up in the Gadonu’s house for five days without even going out in the courtyard, so Valasa agreed it was time to get some fresh air.

  The sun shone warm and blinding. Alija paused to let his eyes adjust and waited for Kai and Dalan. They moved toward the outer reaches of the village, away from the prying eyes of the guards. Despite walking at a stroll, Kai was still out of breath when they arrived at the clearing known as a park. They had chosen the only park in the village with no game boards painted on the wooden floor, climbing bars, or other items designed to invite children into the space.

  Kai and Dalan settled onto a bench along the outer edge of the park, its back and arms covered in carved vines, leaves, and trees that mimicked the carvings over most of the railings in the village. Alija and Wayra settled onto the smooth floor.

  “Well?” Dalan said when they had made sure no one had followed them. “What now? It’s twelve days before the darkest night. Do we have a plan?”

  Wayra cleared his throat. “The guards change an hour after sunset, at midnight, and an hour before sunrise every night. I haven’t watched their daytime changes.”

  “We don’t need their day schedule,” Dalan said, shaking his head. “We’ll have to finish this before sunrise, or we won’t have a chance.”

  A quiver of fear ran through Alija at Dalan’s somber tone. “What are we going to do about weapons?” Alija asked.

  Kai shook his head. “We can’t even begin without weapons, but they took ours.”

  Heaving a sigh, Wayra flopped onto his back on the boardwalk. “What do we do?”

  No one spoke for a long while, and Alija watched a small monkey swing through the tree behind Kai’s head. His mind spun, searching for the answer to the most significant question of his life: How could they pull this off?

  “Hey!” Wayra’s shout drew Alija’s attention back to the clearing. “What’s that?”

  Without waiting for a response, Wayra jumped up and ran to another bench along the outer rail.

  Alija watched, curious, as Wayra bent and retrieved something from under the bench. He glanced around the area and turned back to the others with a huge grin.

  Once he’d returned to his friends, he held up his prize: a slender dagger, simple and utilitarian in design, but gleaming in the afternoon sun.

  A collective gasp rose from the group, and Kai and Dalan spoke at once.

  “Can we use that?”

  “Surely someone is looking for that.”

  Alija grinned. “They may be looking for it, but we’ve found it. We just need a few more.”

  “Do you think…” Kai started, but trailed off, staring down the boardwalk connecting the park to the next ring of houses.

  Nudging Kai’s shoulder, Dalan asked, “Think what?”

  “Surely, they’re not that careless, right?” Kai laughed, the sound harsh and uncertain. “Do you think it’s possible a guard left that there? If they did, they could be watching to see who picks it up. It could be a trap.”

  “Well, I think we should leave it alone for now, and we’ll circle back later to see if it’s still there.” Wayra returned the dagger to its hiding place under the bench before stretching back out on the smooth floor. “We’ll just have to check the other places where they take their breaks, and where they change watches. Maybe they really are that careless.”

  “That,” Dalan said, �
�or maybe someone left it for us. My father said people are mighty angry about what they did to Kai.”

  They came up with a plan and a schedule, so they could check all the potential spots in the following days. While the others chatted and planned, Alija worked to tamp down the feelings of dread threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t back out now, but if they failed, Tavan would execute them all, and no one would likely try again for a long time.

  Is it arrogant to think we’re the last hope for freedom? He shook the thought from his mind and tried to concentrate on the planning.

  ~*~

  Sweat dripped from Alija’s face and hands, and his knees trembled while he worked alongside his father on the rest of the spring repairs.

  “It’s time to eat,” his father said, setting down his hammer. “Why don’t we eat over here today?” He led Alija to a bench away from the other workers and spread their cold meat and vegetables out between them. Neither spoke, and Alija’s mind raced with the events to come. He caught his father regarding him more than once and could tell there was something he wanted to ask.

  “Well?” He said when they had almost finished their meal.

  “You’ve been spending every spare moment with Kai and the others. What’s going on?”

  Alija inhaled sharply and choked on a mouthful of roast fowl. His face turned red, and tears ran from his eyes while he worked to clear the obstruction from his throat. An eternity passed before he finally coughed out the meat. Relieved, he gasped for air, but it was several moments before he could control the coughing.

  “There now. That’s better. Have a drink.” His father passed him a full water skin, and Alija drank deeply, the cold water soothing his irritated throat.

  Alija glanced around. His choking episode had gotten several other workers’ attention, and they strode towards the bench he shared with his father.