The Great Akheri Wastes, 21st of Eighthmoon 3045
The sky was under a thick cover of clouds. The whipping, sleet-mixed rain had faded as they’d stumbled their way across the land bridge isle by isle, but the air remained oppressive. The Cape of Mists was worth its name. The air stood still, and they wandered through the canyon in a dense fog that was eventually chased away by the winds blowing from the desert. To Ren’i’s surprise the wind was cool, the sand beneath his feet damp as though it had rained recently.
”The rains have started,” Hawk said. They were the first words he’d uttered all day long.
”Thank the Eight. At least we’re not burning alive.” Ren’i chewed on his lip, thinking feverishly. There was no sign of the others and he knew their three weeks were up. No one was coming for them. ”We still have a couple of hours of daylight left. Let’s go.”
Hawk remained silent, but limped alongside Ren’i as before.
Ren’i was not stupid. He knew that Hawk had been avoiding his gaze in the past days, and that it was on purpose. All of his attempts at conversation died, Hawk giving one or two syllable replies at best, and in the end he’d given up.
It still took every ounce of his military discipline to not show just how much the return to that same old silence irritated, and hurt, him.
Still, a growing worry over Hawk’s wellbeing kept Ren’i on the move. He could tell from Hawk’s face that moving hurt. He’d have walked all night long had Hawk’s condition allowed it. Darkness fell rapidly as the sun vanished below the dunes, and a drizzling rain begun to fall just as they’d erected the tent. Ren’i let Hawk rest and took the watch himself. Rain seeped through the fabric and glued his clothes to his skin, but the gentle cold was comforting after the harsh drought of the desert and the biting winter of Liqaria. He let their water containers fill, listening to the raindrops against the metal of their kettle.
He’d always liked rain, even at home in the north where it rained a plenty all year long. It wasn’t without reason that they’d called Hol Saro the city of a thousand tears in the times of yore. Their vicinity to the Northern Sea meant rainclouds after rainclouds rolling against the millenial walls of the city from spring until the late autumn, and come winter the rain turned to snow that wrapped the city underneath its white blanket.
Ren’i let his eyes close. Soldiers tended to take their vacations in the summer after passing their rookie years since the midnight sun made following their regular schedule difficult. Of his first summers of freedom he recalled the wind and the soft gray wall of clouds over the sea, the distant peals of thunder and the flashes of lightning that momentarily lit up the sky. The palace stood higher on the hills than the rest of the city, and it had been possible to see all the way to the sea from the balcony of Oerei’s old workshop. Ren’i had spent long days lounging on the balcony just watching the sea and listening to the rain, sometimes by himself, sometimes with Oerei painting or reading. What he’d done himself Ren’i could no longer remember, but there had been very few, very rare occasions when he’d felt quite as happy as during those summers.
Thinking about home and his father felt like a stab in the heart, and he wished the clouds would have parted even for a moment so that he could see the uncovered night sky. It felt like an eternity since he’d last seen any of the three moons. It made everything that had transpired in the past month feel strangely like the real world had ceased to exist, and that he and Hawk were the only living creatures left in this other world.
The thought was not comforting. The distance between the two of them felt greater than the distance between them and the rest of the world. They might as well have lived on different planets.
Ren’i sighed and mopped the wet hair off his face.
He would have given anything for a chance to speak with his father. Oerei could not fix whatever had gone awry between Ren’i and Hawk, but he would have known how to lift Ren’i’s spirits. He always knew how to do that.
The Great Akheri Wastes, 25th of Eighthmoon 3045
It rained four days and four nights with little interruption. Greenery overtook the wasteland as they crossed the sands and approached the akheri cities. Tiny shoots, then buds pushed out from the soil Ren’i had believed dead, opening in such a rush that on the dawn of the third day Ren’i found their tent surrounded by flowers. The frail blossoms did not seem to mind even the hardest rainfall, quite the opposite. The thirsty soil sucked up all the moisture and gave it back tenfold.
Hawk was gray with exhaustion. There was no wild game anywhere, and what little meat they’d brought with them from Liqaria had not lasted for long. Ren’i had managed to find some edible plants and dig up roots, but they were nothing but an emergency solution. He could stomach them, but Hawk threw up his portion on the second day and would not eat more. Ren’i knew why. The akheri digestive system differed from that of a taivashi’s and would not function on mere plant matter for long. Hawk had lost weight in the past week, and the short, dark beard that now covered his chin could do nothing to hide the fact. All it did was make him look even more emaciated.
The clay-mixed soil was covered in thick green grass as the fourth day turned to night and Ren’i saw Hatam-Ile’s lights through the misty veil of rain. He had no strength left to rejoice. All of his remaining energy went into maintaining his focus, to forcing his legs to move and making himself drag them onwards. Left, right, left, right. Water sloshed in his boots with every step.
”We’re almost there,” he managed to croak to Hawk whose head was lolling against his shoulder. Hawk did not respond and Ren’i wasn’t sure he was even conscious.
Hatam-Ile had changed since the rains had arrived. Wild vines climbed all over the walls like a carpet of moss. The statues flanking the gates were surrounded by wild flowers; long, green leaves hung from the archway above along with blossoms of the palest yellow. Grass was even pushing from the gaps between street tiles.
Ren’i saw in his peripheral vision that the windows of many houses were open, their colourful curtains pulled aside. Somewhere beneath his weariness he acknowledged that their arrival did not go unnoticed, that there were voices, talking, yells emanating from the houses, but he did not stop. Had he done so he would he keeled right on his face and never moved again.
The door to the elders’ house was unguarded, but the smoke rising from the chimney told him that the building was in use. Ren’i shuffled across the puddle-covered square, climbed the stairs laboriously, careful not to drop Hawk, and kicked the door open.
The door to the meeting room was not shut, and the chattering ended abruptly when the people heard the front door slam. A moment later Ren’i paused at the doorway, soaked to the bone and dripping with water. Ared, Onniar, Kha’ar, Vannuil, and many of the elders were present. Each and every pair of eyes in the room was glued straight at him and Hawk.
”Your highness!” Kha’ar burst out after a moment of stunned silence. He nearly dropped the akheri-style pipe he’d been smoking.
Behind him Vannuil seemed frozen in place entirely, so mute with shock that she might have seen a ghost.
Ared moved before anyone else had the chance to get up. Wordless relief flooded his face, and Ren’i could tell from the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn’t slept properly for who knew how long.
”Thank the fates,” he said, voice catching in his throat. ”We’d given up hope already.”
Ren’i held Hawk more tightly against himself and said, ”Ared, he needs a healer. Right now.”
Ared’s attention was already on his cousin. He bent towards Hawk and lifted his head.
”Wake up, Hawk,” he said, voice steady. ”You’re home.”
Hawk gave a quiet sigh for an answer. Ren’i could not have put into words the relief he felt upon seeing the weary smile on Ared’s face. Behind him Onniar was already sprinting to join them.
”He’ll make it. After me,” Ared said and made for the healer’s chambers, located at the far end of the corridor.
Ren’i’s expression spoke of reluctance when Onniar grabbed Hawk by his ankles. Onniar met Ren’i’s eyes and said soothingly, ”I won’t hurt him. Help me. Let’s carry him in Mineha’s room.”
Something in the huntsmaster’s voice sounded different than usual. With their combined effort they lifted Hawk, Ren’i holding him under his arms, Onniar by his legs. He found himself following the huntsmaster mechanically, his gaze solely on Hawk’s face the whole way, with room for nothing else in his thoughts. He heard someone running as Nemeken ordered someone to fetch Mineha.
Consul Kha’ar’s voice added, ”quit staring and send word to the camp. The captain and the Guards had best get here as soon as possible—”
The door slammed again and the consul’s voice was lost under the rushing of rain.
The healer’s room remained unchanged from when Ren’i had stayed there. They lowered Hawk on the pelt-covered bed and Ren’i felt something clutching at his throat just looking at him. Hawk was a shadow of himself like this, withered and suffering, and fear almost floored Ren’i once more.
He barely noticed Ared approaching him.
”Ren’i? Are you all right?”
Ren’i tried swallowing the lump in his throat. It would not budge.
”His… His leg,” Ren’i managed. His voice was hoarse and rough, and he could not recognise it as his own. ”We were attacked. A Liqari arrow. He… He can’t walk—”
Someone placed a hand on his arm and Ren’i started. Ared stood before him, the echo of a smile still on his lips. It pulled Ren’i straight back to reality, the reality where they had survived, had made the entire way back to the Hytherlands, and he realised he was shaking all over. Whether it was out of relief or exhaustion or both he did not know.
”He will make it,” Ared repeated, emphasising each word as if to a child, and Ren’i didn’t know why he suddenly wanted to burst into tears. ”He’s just unconscious and very, very tired. He’ll be all right, given enough rest and food.”
”Are you sure?”
”Completely sure.” He patted Ren’i on the shoulder and said, ”truth to be told, you look pretty awful. I’ll arrange a bath and some clean clothes for you. You can tell the rest later.”
Ren’i let out a deep sigh. ”You know what? A bath sounds heavenly right now.”
The muted beat of the healer’s song rose and fell like waves. Ren’i listened to it with his eyes closed and up to his nose in hot water. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be warm, clean and safe. The warm bath felt like a lover’s embrace to his weary limbs, and he just sat still in the tub, not entirely sure whether he was dreaming or awake.
The scent of incense carried all the way from the healer’s chambers to the room at the very back of the house even through closed doors, leaving the building smelling like meadow flowers. The window panes chimed. The previous drizzle had turned into a downpour during the time Mineha had spent with Hawk, and the cool air blowing in through the ventilation window was just as effective as standing in the rain. Ren’i felt more clear-headed than he had in days, despite the exhaustion. He straightened, spread soap in his hair and dunked his head under water. Mineha had stopped singing when he sat up, hair dripping.
Someone knocked on the door twice as Ren’i was pulling on a shirt. The light footfalls told him it was not one of his soldiers.
”Come in,” Ren’i called. Upon seeing that it was Ared he asked immediately, ”how’s Hawk?”
”Mineha is waking him at the moment. You may go see him once he’s conscious.”
Ren’i nodded and tightened the laces of the akheri-style trousers. Hawk wasn’t the only one who’d lost weight, and all the clothes Ren’i had been given hung loose around him.
Ared left the door cracked open as he entered. He tapped at his chin with a finger and said, ”you might want to wipe that before it lands on your shirt.”
”What?” Ren’i wiped his chin with the back of his hand. It came away stained with blood. ”Oh. I guess I was a little careless with the razor.”
It was definitely not the only scrape he had. His hands had trembled something awful and the mirror standing by the tub had fogged over so thoroughly that he’d seen only the outlines of his reflection, but even so he had wanted to shave. He felt lighter after bathing and shaving, as though a fraction of the burden left by the past weeks had been physically washed off.
”Has the captain arrived yet?” he asked.
”He just got here. Come. They’re expecting us.”
The meeting room was even fuller than before. There was a fire in the hearth and the smell of freshly made tea lingered in the room. Captain Hamr, for the first time in living memory in his civilian whites, sat with the consuls along with Linnee and Sava. Both soldiers had grown thinner, but neither bore any visible injuries. Ren’i was fully aware that there was nothing regal in his current state of being, yet they rose simultaneously with Hamr as Ren’i stepped in the room and bowed just as deeply as though he were decked out in his uniform.
”Your highness,” Hamr greeted him, slapping a fist against his chest. He looked withered without his breastplate and pauldrons, and Ren’i was embarrassed to see the captain’s eyes glistening with moisture.
”I do apologise if they dragged you out of bed for this,” Ren’i said.
The captain swallowed visibly. The look on his face made it clear that he was fighting hard to regain his self-control.
”Out of bed, you say! You ought to have considered my rest when you came up with this ridiculous scheme. As if anyone here has managed to get a good night’s sleep in your absence!” The sudden outburst made him sound more like himself. He was so agitated as he came closer that Ren’i backed away instinctively. ”Imagine how we felt when the rest of the party returned and told us you’d fallen back? We thought you were dead!”
Vannuil cleared her throat but said nothing.
”What your captain is so tactfully trying to say is that you gave us quite some cause for concern,” Kha’ar added in wry tones.
”Concern? Concern? You are the master of understatements, consul Kha’ar,” Hamr huffed. ”Concern doesn’t come even close to the fact that we were already preparing to inform the empress and prince Oerei of your passing.”
Kha’ar and Vannuil exchanged a look. They did not echo the captain’s accusations, but also made no attempt to correct him. Ren’i schooled the most neutral expression on his face that he could manage, knowing full well when he’d earned his reprimands.
”You are absolutely correct, captain,” he replied. He crossed both arms across his chest and bowed deeply. ”I’ve caused you all so much unnecessary effort and stress. I hope that you can accept my apology.”
”What exactly happened, your highness?” Vannuil asked. ”Your soldiers and the akheri scouts told us their part, but we’d like to hear your side of the events as well.”
At that point Ared intervened and said, ”how about we let him sit down and eat something first? It won’t be much of an interrogation if he faints halfway through.”
They passed a tea pot from one person to another. Ren’i drank from his cup slowly, filled it again, and started talking. The longer he spoke the easier it got to relive all that had transpired in the past weeks, and to his utmost relief the captain, the consuls or Ared did not interrupt him for more than clarifications here and there. He was brought food and drink, and he ate with more gratitude than ever before. After the sweet tea, fruit porridge and the bread adorned with dried meats and fruits he was starting to feel slightly better. Not good, but better.
A silence fell in the room as Ren’i concluded his story. He’d focused strictly on the essentials, not mentioning the conversations and arguments he’d had with Hawk during their escape with a single word.
Kha’ar stroked at his beard, as he always did when he was thinking. ”I understand your concern over your companions, but what you did was foolish and reckless. You endangered your own life needlessly.”
Ren’i lowered his head to signal his agreement. The akheri elders had been listening to his tale with bated breath, and even now many were watching him, their expressions unreadable.
Ared touched Ren’i’s shoulder once more and said quietly, ”I can never thank you enough for risking your life to bring my cousin back alive. Thank you.”
”We must say the same about this akheri hunter. It is thanks to him that our crown prince lives,” Vannuil said. She paid no mind to the look of disapproval captain Hamr directed her way. ”He has earned his thanks. Where is he now?”
”Resting,” Ared said.
”As he rightfully deserves to,” Ren’i added. ”I’m sure he can tell his part of the story once he’s recovered.”
The door creaked as it opened. Onniar stood at the doorway.
”He’s awake,” he said, directing his words at Ren’i, who clambered on his feet at once. ”Mineha said that you may see him, but that you ought to keep the visit short. He needs his rest.”
Ren’i dashed out of the room before anyone could stop him.
The first thing that Hawk was aware of upon waking was that his leg did not hurt anymore. The pain had become such an integral part of the passed weeks that picturing a life without it had been impossible, and now that it was gone everything felt surreal.
It was warm. He was resting against something soft and dry.
And silence, the silence was strangest of all. It was so terribly quiet. His heart skipped a beat; the familiar sense of someone’s presence was now more distant than before, which washed all lingering traces of sleep off his mind.
”Ren’i?” he breathed, voice breaking.
A woman laughed. ”He’s not far, don’t you worry.”
The world swayed back and forth when Hawk cracked open his eyes. There was a roof above him, a roof against which the rain sounded muffled. It took a moment until he realised he was staring at the images carved in the ceiling of the elders’ house. Mineha was smiling at him in her short-sleeved healer’s tunic.
”Thank your luck that your friend kept the wound clean,” Mineha said. ”It’s a straight-up miracle that the infection wasn’t any worse than that. You must let your leg rest for a couple of days, but it should make a full recovery.”
”What about Ren’i?”
”He has nothing to worry about.” The creases around the healer’s eyes deepened as she smiled meaningfully, and Hawk felt heat rising to his face. ”Though I do believe you can feel it yourself, can’t you?”
Hawk looked away. He took deep breaths, heartrate slowing down when he felt someone approaching. In no time at all the sound of footsteps had come closer, and someone knocked on the door.
”Come in, come in,” Mineha said. ”Well, well, there you are at last. Do keep an eye on him while I wash my hands.”
Two, three uncertain steps. They halted at the doorway and did not come any closer.
”Hawk?”
Hawk would have been lying to himself had he claimed he didn’t breathe more freely upon hearing Ren’i’s voice. The decision to keep him at a distance crumbled and died the moment Hawk saw him. Ren’i hurried on over and sat by the bed as if the past days had not happened.
”Do you want anything?” Ren’i asked. He looked pale and tired, and his now smooth chin sported several reddened scratches.
”Water.”
It was not what Hawk had wanted to say, but nothing else came out of his mouth. Ren’i got up again and walked to the side table upon which there stood a water pitcher. He filled one of the clay mugs, returned to Hawk and supported him as he stood up stiffly. Ren’i handed over the mug and watched him closely, making sure he drank it all.
”More?”
Hawk shook his head.
”And your leg? Does it still hurt?”
”No. Mineha has fixed it.”
His free hand toyed with the edge of the quilt, gaze firmly on his own feet.
Ren’i swallowed audibly. ”Listen, if I’ve done something wrong again you can just spit it out.” When Hawk remained silent, Ren’i let out a weary sigh. ”Won’t you even look at me?” he begged, his voice cracking.
And so Hawk looked. This close to Ren’i he could not keep himself from looking, though he knew it was a mistake. He felt it immediately as their eyes met – a tug deep within, like something clicking in place. It had grown stronger for days, but it had been easy to bury underneath the exhaustion and the pain. The look on Ren’i’s face was like someone twisting a knife in Hawk’s gut, and he did not know how to put into words what he was thinking.
That everything Ren’i had done was perfect, and that was exactly what was wrong.
Hawk felt himself giving in. He leaned reflexively towards Ren’i, mouth opening, though he did not know what he wanted to say.
Right at that moment there was a knock against the doorframe and Ared floated in, holding a tray and a steaming bowl of soup. He cleared his throat, and both Ren’i and Hawk started, suddenly remembering where they were.
”Pardon the interruption,” Ared said. ”I brought you something to eat, Hawk. Mineha said that you shouldn’t sleep on an empty stomach.”
The way he was watching them was oddly blank, almost calculating, and Hawk decided he did not like it. He pushed the mug back in Ren’i’s hands, muttering a silent thanks.
”Are you sure you can eat that?” Ren’i asked as Ared lowered the tray on Hawk’s lap, what had happened to his previous meal still in fresh memory. The bowl was full of a murky, reddish broth that smelled of grease and iron.
”It’ll stay down. Bouillon with bloodroot,” Ared answered in Hawk’s stead. ”No solids until tomorrow.”
The sound of heavy footfalls announced the arrival of captain Hamr – he never moved quietly, not even without his uniform – and Ren’i knew he could not stay any longer. His time was up.
”Make sure you eat,” he told Hawk and got up just as the captain paused at the doorway. He spoke before the captain had even opened his mouth, saying, ”already on my way, captain.”
”We’ll escort you to the camp,” the captain replied, bringing a fist to his chest once more. ”I’ll fill you in on our preparations as we walk.”
”Just a summary, please. I want to lie down as soon as possible, and I’ve no plans of getting up before afternoon,” Ren’i stated. He waved at Ared as he left.
The captain was already prattling at full speed as they exited the elder’s house with Sava and Linnee. Ared could still catch notes of his booming voice when they were already halfway across the square.
Hawk spooned soup into his mouth with an uncaring look on his face, but Ared knew his cousin through and through. He’d not missed the fact that Hawk’s eyes had followed Ren’i as he’d left, though he feigned indifference.
”Blueleaf and the others told us everything,” Ared said. ”The elders know the strength of the Liqari army, Verem and Om-Var included. We’ve sent word to the other cities and started gathering volunteers. Consul Kha’ar has most graciously promised to arrange them an enclave in the camp.”
Hawk nodded. He brought the bowl to his lips and drank the rest of the broth, though he had no appetite to speak of.
”I’m not expecting you to participate. You’ve already done more than enough.” Ared hesitated. ”Blueleaf, Dewdrop and a couple of others have already enlisted.”
Hawk nodded again.
”Listen,” Ared said tentatively. ”I’m not asking this as chief but as family. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
”No.”
”Did something happen with Ren’i?”
”No.” Hawk laid the bowl and the spoon down on the tray. ”I’d like to sleep, if you don’t mind.”
He was lying, Ared saw it in the way he acted. It confirmed his suspicions, confirmed them with even more surety than all those countless, unspoken clues he’d spied in his cousin’s and Ren’i’s expressions and gestures throughout the night. Hawk had always been the most withdrawn person in their family, but he was never dishonest. He’d never lied to Ared, not even when they’d been little. Never once before.
Ared took the tray and bid him goodnight.
Ared closed the door after himself. He was not surprised to find Onniar waiting for him.
”Well?” Onniar asked quietly.
”No question about it.”
The huntsmaster chuckled. ”I was anticipating something like this, to be honest. All the signs were there almost as soon as they met.” He scratched at his beard. ”You reckon they know already?”
Hawk definitely does, Ared thought to himself. All he said was, ”if they don’t yet, they will figure it out soon enough.”