A Hollow Mountain (The Brightest Shadow Book 2), page 28
If they had been able to fully work together, it might have been enough. But though they took down several opponents, eventually they found themselves pressed back to back in the center with a true ring of opponents around them. They had moved too far from the burning houses, though the blaze burned even higher. Now the two of them were growing exhausted and many opponents still circled.
Then Tani spotted something even worse: one of the strongest warriors had reached the village. His clothing had been torn away from his chest, but the blood that covered it was not his.
Tani slid her fingers over her remaining knives, counting the exact number. She would fight to the end, but if they threatened to capture her, she would use the last knife on herself.
Just as the Hardbloods began their charge, a second war cry echoed through the valley. Tani flinched from it, but saw Mohuno straighten. She understood a moment later when she saw gray-collared warriors burst from the crags and rush toward the village, led by an old man who burned with mint in her mind. The second band of Steelbones had arrived.
If the Hardbloods had remained in the village, they might have been able to cut down their isolated opponents. But instead they rushed out to face the new foe, and that proved a fatal error. The fresh raiders had larger numbers and momentum from their downhill charge, so they shattered their enemies.
Though the strongest of the Hardbloods knocked aside his opponents, breaking bones with each blow, he was soon matched. The old man, who could only be Mohuno's uncle, proved to be even stronger than his nephew. He might be the last of the Steelbone clan's mightiest warriors, but against this weakened foe he did not need to reserve himself.
Tani kept her knives ready and finished off one running Hardblood before the battle was over. Still, with that war cry and charge, the true threat had ended. It had been a victory, yet she only found herself staring at the burning huts.
Even if she could have put out the fierce flames, too much had already been destroyed.
"We won!" Mohuno raised his fists to the air, not noticing her expression. "The Hardbloods will never forget this loss!"
"Was it worth it?" Tani walked past him to look down over the valley, scattered with crimson bodies. Though she had little love for the Steelbones, she saw so many of them on the ground that it still robbed her of any sense of victory. To her surprise, Mohuno merely shrugged.
"Most of them will live. In war between clans, most of the dead are killed when the winners finish off those who have fallen. The strongest of the Hardbloods killed a few, but the others will survive, hardened by their battles. We will return stronger than before."
"But the village burned."
"It did." Mohuno at least had the decency to look slightly sad as he turned his gaze back to the flames. "I wish that we could have stopped them. But the people of the village cooperated, and the boy even fought with us. I will give them their choice of land and we can help them rebuild. With their lives and their animals intact, they will return stronger as well."
Tani turned to him in surprise. For a moment she wondered if he faked his passion as part of some ploy, yet he didn't even look at her. She realized that part of his arrogance grew from real concern for the people of the village. Without her, he might have sacrificed their home, but he had done everything that he could to defend them. It wasn't as if her best had been able to save the village either.
Loath as she was to admit it, Tani felt her heart beginning to soften. Despite all his faults, Mohuno might be a good man. And despite his strength, he had never once used it to threaten her. If he proved capable of change, perhaps...
"A brilliant strategy!" Mohuno's uncle came into the village like a storm, laughing and striking his nephew on the shoulder. "Did you see the Hardbloods lost Datoba? You more than bloodied their nose, you cut off their foot! They'll lose ground to us, make no mistake."
"This is our time to strike. Never let them think they can do this to us." Mohuno raised his voice as he called to all the other Steelbones. "Those who took injuries, hold the village and put out these fires! Everyone else, join Uncle Fahuwe! Run into the heart of Hardblood territory and raid their stores, burn their houses, steal their women! They will not soon forget this arrogance!"
The men roared out a response and Tani seemed to hear it only from a distance. As she saw Mohuno leading his raiders, she regretted her moment of doubt. He had been a useful ally to protect the people of the village, but that was all. She would never get through to him, and wishing for him to change was a foolish dream.
What she would do instead, she didn't know. In the wake of the battle, she had imagined asking him to escort her to Mount Tmil, or at least help her navigate the raider clans who stood in her path. That still seemed the most likely path, yet she hesitated to ask anything of him.
For a time the villagers remained hidden, fearing the aftermath, but Cabari emerged to help bind Rubako's wounds and others followed. Tani assisted wherever she could, putting out those fires where anything was salvageable. Though it had been forbidden, it seemed that many of the villagers had taken their meager belongings with them into hiding, so though they mourned the loss of their village, they hadn't lost everything.
Once they had recovered what they could, even saving broken boards from the flames, they turned to the bodies. Most were Steelbones or Hardbloods, but Tani saw one old woman who must have fallen in the first attack. She wanted to help, but her role had passed, leaving her to watch.
All the Hardbloods were ruthlessly stripped of everything they wore and thrown into one of the buildings that still burned. By contrast, the villagers treated the fallen Steelbones respectfully enough, leaving them with a few fragments of cloth and positioning them in a resting position outside the edge of the village.
As soon as it was done, the villagers took up the old woman's body and began a procession higher into the mountains. Tani followed at a distance, presuming that she would see their funeral ritual but unsure if she should. Not wanting to intrude on their grief, Tani caught up with the group and found Cabari, tugging her sleeve to pull her aside from the others.
"Should I leave you alone?" Tani asked. Cabari seemed surprised by the question, then shook her head.
"No, her body will only be honored by your presence. Come and watch us lay her out."
"Lay her out?" She glanced forward, noting how the villagers' path became increasingly steep.
"For the funeral, of course." Cabari eyed her curiously. "Surely your people honor the dead in some way. We'll take her clothes and spread her body under the sky."
"And then?"
Ahead, they reached a local peak, the highest point that could be easily reached without leaping or climbing. Tani observed that the area had been worn smooth by other feet, yet she saw nowhere for a body to be buried, especially in such hard rock.
"What do you mean?" Cabari cast her another strange look as the old woman was settled onto the stone. "Once the ceremony is over, birds and other creatures will come and eat her body. What did you think would happen?"
Tani pulled a hand to her mouth as her stomach convulsed. The idea of leaving the dead to be torn apart by beasts sent a wave of revulsion through her that required all her discipline to swallow. Though Cabari stared at her obliviously and the villagers continued their solemn ritual, Tani struggled to accept such a terrible practice.
No doubt Slaten would have nodded somberly and accepted their customs, no matter what they had said, but Tani couldn't. She knew that they didn't share her taboos in her mind and struggled to make her stomach understand the same thing. Mastering herself, she drew Cabari back from the main group of villagers and spoke in a whisper.
"Why not bury the bodies? I know the ground is hard, but you could have warriors cut into the rock, like they did for my hiding place."
"Beasts would only dig them up and infest the village." Cabari frowned slightly, sensing her reaction, and hastened to explain. "You think we don't care for our dead? In most seasons, it's too cold for the bodies to decompose. What seems more caring, to let the dead pass into nature or to leave them as horrible frozen bodies?"
Though Tani accepted that point, she remained fixated on the idea of beasts tearing the fallen apart. She could even see a few birds of prey perched nearby, no doubt waiting. "Why not burn them? You did with the Hardbloods... is that offensive in some way?"
"Burn them? You've seen how few trees we have: we need every board for our homes and every scrub for cookfires and the dead of winter. Burning the dead might be your custom, but we cannot afford such things."
"I... admit that I had not considered that. But for the Nelee... allowing beasts to touch the dead is something we try to avoid. It seems an awful fate for a body."
"I've never thought about it that way." Cabari turned away and raised her arms to either side, encompassing the mountains. "Their pain and hunger is gone and their body is only a shell. But I've always found it comforting to think that pieces of them can soar over the mountains, finally free..."
Accepting the sincerity in the young woman's voice, Tani did her best to set aside her own reactions and simply watch. Once they had completed their chanting, the villagers began to remove every layer of cloth that had covered the old woman. Every movement was the opposite of the workmanlike stripping of the warriors, instead tenderly removing each piece and passing one to each member of the village. As they continued, all worked the new cloth into their clothes, some running the fabric through their hands.
That sight was what finally transformed Tani's revulsion into shame. Their custom might have been horrifying to her, but it meant far more to them. When the old woman was finally left in a simple gray cloth, there was an austere simplicity that pierced Tani to the core.
It seemed that the villagers would hold vigil for a time, but she no longer wanted to intrude on their ceremony. Instead she wandered down toward the burning remnants of the village, pondering what she had seen. The depth of emotion and spirit she had seen stood in stark contrast to the Bloodskins profaning their own dead.
On her way down, she reached into her pack and ran her fingers over the splinters on her case. She didn't think that she could bring this reflection back to her tribe, and though she welcomed the new thoughts, they reminded her of just how far she was from home. Somehow, she needed to draw all these new experiences into herself without losing everything that made her Nelee.
For a moment her body tensed at the sight of a man carrying a spear, but it was only Rubako. Despite his wounds, he was moving down the line of fallen Steelbone warriors. Tani flinched as she saw him drive his spear into the chest of one of the corpses, yet in her somber mood, she looked more closely. His expression held no hatred, only a heavy weight.
"What are you doing?" she asked. He leapt slightly at her voice, pausing before driving the spear into the next body.
"They might have been selfish men, but they gave their lives for the village." He glared as if daring her to argue. "They deserve this much, at least."
"I know they died for the village, I just... don't understand this."
"The last man to strike a warrior before his body is taken carries his honor." Rubako's glare became incredulity, his voice slowing as if she was a child. "That honor shouldn't be taken by the enemy. The Steelbones are gone, so someone needs to remember them."
He continued on, driving his spear into the next of the fallen warriors. Intellectual knowledge of his intent couldn't overcome the revulsion she felt at the wet sound, so Tani turned away and left him to his ritual, reconsidering all that she had seen within the mountains.
Though it didn't change her opinion of the Bloodskins, she realized that she had misjudged them in at least this one way. Because of her own pain, she had seen and not understood. Her master might not have disagreed with any of her decisions, but she would have been very disappointed in her.
Tani leapt to a rocky peak and just sat for a time, her arms wrapped around her legs. She had reconsidered many things in her life, but never anything that struck so deeply at the core of her instinctual reactions. Yet it was much easier to accept the villagers' ritual than to think that even brute raiders had more culture than she had been willing to admit. Above all, Mohuno had no inherently good or evil nature, only a mix that refused classification.
Had her participation in the battle saved lives in the end? It was so easy to imagine that there might have been another way, or to invent paths where any choice led to tragedy. She still clung to everything she believed, yet the way to bring those beliefs into the world seemed less clear than ever.
Tani remained uncertain for days, until the dreams began.
Chapter 22
-
"The Council of Espal will gladly accept offers of alliance across the Maenhu when Portant surrenders all lands for ten leagues east of the Oestiid River and Wahleen grants unlimited rights to its deepest mines."
- Espalese response to the Scholars of the Blue Mask
-
Though the Voidwalker with her appeared disgusted to return to Sotfaal and left as quickly as possible, Celivia found herself relieved. She might have terribly few options out on the edge of civilization, but at least her path forward was clear. Considering the difficulty of the task she had been given, the only way she would succeed would be to increase both her rank and her personal strength.
Looking out over Sotfaal, she was struck by how dusty it was. The colors in the north of Wahleen had been richly saturated in comparison to what she saw now, yet she would take it. She hefted her sack of supplies over her shoulder and headed down into the tiny fort.
In theory her band was supposed to be aware that she was returning and waiting, but she strongly suspected that the message had not reached them. When she passed the gates, she found only Ghasfik and Huthur sitting on a pair of crates and talking while drinking. When they saw her they both lurched to their feet with smiles.
"Band leader!" Ghasfik brought a fist to his chest respectfully. "We didn't receive a message about your arrival."
"It probably got lost. It doesn't matter." She had to fight not to grin, not because they had any deep relationship but simply due to relief. Celivia recognized a strange impulse to hug both of the men, though she knew that would send entirely the wrong message. That made her realize how long it had been since she'd really touched someone, a pang of longing that she quickly suffocated.
"What do you have there, Kaen?"
"Some supplies and some new equipment. I wish I'd talked to Fijn about exactly what size everyone needs, but I hope these will be close enough. Huthur, I thought about buying you a newer set of tools, but I wasn't sure what you'd actually need."
"No need." Huthur patted his belt, which she saw had a few tools not yet worn with age. "I used some of my pay for new tools anyway."
"Good. I assume most of the others are using theirs to drink as much as they can?"
"Most of them. Little Ragh lost most of his gambling in the first few days and has been begging ever since."
As they headed to the nearest tavern, Ghasfik informed her of what little had happened in her absence. Big Ragh had gotten in a fight with some local soldiers and spent a day in a cell, but it had come to nothing. Otherwise, it seemed that not much training had occurred, though she didn't experience much disappointment or surprise.
When they arrived, Big Ragh and Brifik saw her and immediately announced a toast. Still riding on the wave of elation, Celivia accepted it and drained a glass. She used her sein to completely negate the effect, but it still tasted good. Fijn arrived midway and she handed him the equipment to sort out, even though that was Brifik's job.
"Damn, the bitch is back." Splinters muttered the words when he arrived, glaring at her with real hatred.
"I heard that. I love you too, Splinters." She hadn't really thought about what she was saying, it just spilled from her general good mood. To her surprise, the others thought this was hilarious and laughed until Splinters stalked away angrily.
Krafan arrived, happy to see her but taking her hand for a heartbeat too long. After they found Little Ragh sleeping off a hangover from begged liquor, she had everyone back together. They headed out of Sotfaal and she discovered that Ghasfik had kept one development from her: several of the men had pooled their pay together to buy several bovals. The creatures sat dully, scrawnier than average, yet despite all the delicacies she had eaten in the north, the sight still made her mouth water.
"I knew we'd get sick of rations," Big Ragh said. "Now we can eat one of them when we want. Can you manage them in the mountains?"
That mild statement, said without a hint of malice, was what finally destroyed her good mood. Herding bovals was women's work, and it seemed that Big Ragh didn't even recognize what he'd said. She fixed him with the sternest gaze she could muster. "I don't think that's work for an officer, is it, Nin?"
"I... sorry, Kaen." Big Ragh shuffled back, feeling guilty but not fully understanding. Those who had heard went silent, watching to see how she would react. Celivia wanted to regain the previous atmosphere, but saw that it had been lost. The best she could do was return to a facsimile of it.
"I approve of the purchase, men, but we can't take that many bovals with us into the mountains. Slaughter one of them and we can eat well tonight."
That suggestion got an immediate roar of approval, Big Ragh loudest of all, mostly arising from the desire to push past the previous moment. Celivia only kept it in mind as she removed the remainder of her supplies. Some were only for her, and her new voidlink had been hidden within her clothes from the beginning. But she'd purchased a small bundle of spices for this exact reunion.
Once they got to work, they actually behaved like a professional band. Several of them slaughtered one of the bovals and began carving up the meat. Fijn began distributing the boots, and though it seemed the sizes were close enough, several required some stuffing or cutting. Brifik did the same with the helms, which the band seemed to enjoy more as a novelty than as equipment.
