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Authors: Karah Quinney

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BOOK: The Last Sundancer
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Kaichen grinned without shame a
s Denoa placed her palms against his face.  “You have the look of a person that is not here to stay.”

Denoa’s eyes were insightful, even as she flashed a welcoming smile to Amara.  Kaichen walked hand in hand with his wife.  Denoa had been
eagerly awaiting their return.  Kaichen and Amara had taken three days to themselves as was customary of a newly joined pair.  It was just as it should be. 

“I must go and seek a high place for myself.” Kaichen was welcome in his mother’s home and she opened her arms to Amara just as any mother would for her daughter. 

“It is good that you took time to share the good fortune of a newly joined pair with your wife.  Go and have no concern for her wellbeing.  She will be safe here amongst her family.” Denoa’s hand was gentle as she touched her son’s face. 

Kaichen pressed his lips to Amara’s ear and then left just as suddenly as he had arrived.

Amara and Denoa both stared in startled surprise at the place where Kaichen had been standing.  Though Denoa was his mother she did not fully know her son as the man that he had become.  Amara was coming to know Kaichen as the lifemate that she had chosen for herself, but he still surprised her at times.

“He touches power, even when he does not seek it.” Denoa’s face beamed with motherly pride.  Shale had been much the same as Kaichen was and she was not surprised to see the same wondrous display in her son.  Her heart had stopped beating when she watched her son throw himself from the rock spire after completing his dance of victory.  Thankfully he appeared quickly, hanging from a length of rope that easily bore his weight.  Her people still praised Kaichen’s dance of power and she knew that they would never forget what they had seen.

“What are you making?” Amara asked, as she settled close to Denoa’s small fire.  

She took in her surroundings and immediately noticed that Denoa’s dwelling was well stocked with items that spoke of a long life.  Colorfully woven blankets were carefully folded and stacked in one corner.  A few clay vessels and pots hung from the poles that held up the roof of the lodge.  Dried herbs and various grasses adorned the walls and a set of weapons were in place beside the fire. 

“You look upon the weapons that belonged to my husband and you wonder why they are not buried with him.” Denoa’s words were a statement of truth instead of a question. 

Amara nodded shyly, embarrassed to find that Denoa’s wise gaze took in every nuance of expression and emotion. “It is good that you are curious.  If my husband was here, he would approve of the daughter that sits before me, just as I approve.”

Denoa was not one to apologize, unless she was forced to do so, but she regretted her reaction to Kaichen’s initial arrival with Amara at his side. She firmly believed that it was because of Amara’s presence in their lives that Kaichen had become all that was needed to safeguard their way of life. 

“Shale had many weapons.  He was often weighed down by them when he walked, but he was never without several knives, a long spear, a short spear and his bow and arrow
s.  I often teased him that if he could, he would wear a boa around his waist to hold up his loincloth.” Denoa chuckled at the memory.  “He is buried in a secret place along with many of his weapons.  I kept these so that I would always remember the wonderful, protective man that I was joined with.  He was the father of my sons and I miss him very much.”

“I fear that I will lose Kaichen even now.” Amara admitted her worst fear to the only woman that could possibly understand.

“Daughter, such a fear would be there, even if we had always lived in times of peace.  You cannot hold on to the fear or allow your life to be guided by it.  You have given your heart to Kaichen and it is just as it should be between a man and woman.  Never forget that what you have is special and rare.  That is all that you can do.”

Denoa’s words were wise and Amara recognized the wisdom in listening to her advice. 

“That is what I did, each day that I loved Kaichen’s father and it is what I do now.” Denoa turned away to give Amara time to gather her thoughts to herself before she smiled at her daughter.  “Would you like to make your own clay pot?  It can sit alongside the ones that I have made as a joining gift for you and Kaichen.”

Amara smiled in delight as Denoa displayed the pots and clay vessels that she had worked to create over the last few days. 

“I would like that very much.” Amara thanked Denoa for her kindness. 

Her hands were eager to delve into the cool clay that Denoa presented to her upon a slab of stone.  It felt wonderful to take up such a normal task as the forming of a clay vessel. 

Amara’s eyes lit with joy as Denoa set about grinding some harvested grasses into grain.  The grinding stone fit into Denoa’s hand as if it were made especially for her grasp.  She worked the stone against the flat slab with the skilled use of a woman that had managed the task since the time of childhood until now.

She and Amara worked in companionable silence for a time and soon they moved outside of her dwelling to sit in the setting sun.  Other women stopped by as they went about their preparations for the evening, some shared tales about their families and others talked about the success of the harvest and the coming cold season.  There was much preparation within the village as the men and women came together to add their hands to the work shared by all. 

 

 

 

Kaichen walked until he reached the place that called to him.  He remembered his mother’s words about the red rocks that sheltered their people from the rays of the sun.  He believed that the red rocks gave his people protection and power.   As he climbed higher and higher he felt the familiar pull of a sacred place and gave himself over to it.

He had much to give thanks for and though he did not wish to leave Amara’s side, he felt a pressing need to seek out solitude and cleanse his body in the way that Azin had taught him.

Kaichen carried a small pack that had all the items that he would need.  Inside was a bundle of fragrant, dried grasses and the things he would need to start a fire.  Without hearing the words from his mother’s lips, he could not be certain, but Kaichen felt sure that he stood in a place that his father once stood.  

He had not forgotten the day of the battle when he had danced at the behest of his father and brother.  During that time, when power swirled within him and consumed what he willingly offered of himself, he had danced alongside his father and his brother.  The pure joy of that moment was called back to mind simply by settling himself upon the red rocks and closing his eyes.  

He could no longer call his father’s image to him, to stand beside him and imbue him with the strength needed to attempt the impossible.  But there was no sadness in his heart as he realized that such a thing was no longer necessary. 

Far below, his people went about their lives with the knowledge that they were safe and secure.  Kaichen almost opened his eyes to better see his people, but he dwelled within the silence of his mind as he thought of the ways in which Antuk had already started to make a difference within their village. 

Antuk took in the sight of the harvested fields and frowned at the way that the people worked the land.  He agreed that they should not plant and grow crops in the same place season after season. 

But he asked several of the men and women why they did not direct water through small ditches to irrigate their fields.  Though many of the villagers treated Antuk with kindness and appreciation they had not considered him as a resource until that time. 

Antuk quickly showed them how they could improve the success of their next harvest and all around them there was chaos as the people shouted to one another.  Kaichen had merely smiled into his mother’s laughing eyes. 

He kept his eyes closed as he remembered his time upon the spire and that which had been hidden in the back of his mind until now.  Instead of leaving the dried grasses at the bottom of the spire, Antuk had managed to carry the weighty bundles to the top of the rock, in the dark. 

Though Kaichen was a skilled climber, he could not imagine doing such a thing himself.  The only other time that he had done the impossible had been with Azin when he climbed the same spire that his father had once climbed.  

As time unfolded Kaichen had come to believe that Ni’zin or Tonaka had attempted to climb the spire and failed.  Perhaps that was still true.

Kaichen saw that the moon was a white crescent in the dark sky.  He had been deep within the circling thoughts of his mind from the time that the sun first lifted into the sky until now. 

He recalled a conversation that he had once had with Azin and yet this time he saw things in an entirely different light.

“Who was the man that succeeded in learning the secret of the spire?” Kaichen’s voice always surprised the listener.  It was a dry rasp, hovering slightly above a whisper. 

“Your father and one other.” Azin did not have to look at Kaichen to see that the young man had already known the answer to his question though Kaichen was surprised that someone else had conquered the spire.  “The name of the man that failed is no longer spoken.”

At the time, Kaichen had never considered the identity of the second man, now he saw things clearly.

“Antuk?” Kaichen questioned, even as he considered whether or not his friend was indeed more than what he seemed. 

Looking back over their friendship
, Kaichen was certain that he had the answer to his question.  Antuk had loyally remained at his side through many trials and even fought along with him for the freedom of people not of his shared blood. 

He was a brother, a friend in times both good and bad.  Kaichen shook his head in humble chagrin as he realized that he had underestimated his friend.  Laughter caused his shoulders to shake.   Wherever Azin was, whether it was in the comfort of his dwelling or looking out upon the night sky, it was possible that the wise man was laughing along with him.

 

Chapter Thirty
-One

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Why are you still here? When do you plan to return to the high places that your people prefer to claim as their own?” Kaichen spoke to Tamol with undisguised curiosity and mild annoyance. 

“You should thank me for watching over your wife while you went to seek a vision.” Tamol made light of Kaichen’s purification ritual but the carefully barbed words did not bother Kaichen at all. 

“Thank you, Tamol.  I am indebted to you for your loyalty.” Kaichen’s sincere words surprised Tamol and both men cleared their throats almost simultaneously. 

Often as the days passed Kaichen caught sight of Tamol’s gaze lingering upon his mother.  He could not say how he felt about the man’s interest in Denoa.

“I lost my wife long ago.” Tamol growled the words as he turned away from Denoa and the other women. 

Kaichen was surprised that he felt the sadness that was hidden within Tamol’s words.  He could not imagine his life without Amara.  She had become the soothing balm placed over a wound.  She was the light in his eyes and the reason for waking each morning.  Kaichen vowed silently that he would never take Amara for granted.

“I do not trust Ni’zin and Tonaka to simply run off into the desert sands and die.” Tamol turned the topic of discussion to things that he knew well.  They spoke of battle and the things that drove desperate men to do desperate things. 

“Your men have already returned home.  Farren has returned to his band and still you linger.” Kaichen watched Tamol, even as the other man looked away.

Tamol turned his eye toward Denoa.  She sat with several women, caught up in conversation.  She appeared to be content.

“You do not seek to protect my mother, do you?” Kaichen’s words cut to the heart of the matter.

“No.” Tamol knew that it was not his place to offer his protection to Denoa.  Kaichen would see to his mother’s wellbeing. “But I seek to right a wrong.  There was a time when I held Ni’zin’s life in my hands and I let him live.  I am just as guilty as he is for the wrongs done, long ago.  I have grown old and I will not rest until I am certain that all is as it should be.”

Kaichen heard the vow in Tamol’s voice and he could not find any words to form a response.

His mother did not seem upset by Tamol’s presence amongst them and the three bands had decided to meet during the warm season to share in a hunt.  It was possible that some of their men and women would join and chose lifemates from amongst the bands of Farren and Tamol. 

It was possible that the alliance made upon the desert sand to fight against a common enemy, would provide security well into the future.  In that moment, Kaichen could see far into the future and he knew that if things continued as they were, their bands would eventually become one. 

 

 

Tamol knew that he had delayed his return for as long as he could.  Soon the first breath of the cold season would be upon them
and traveling even a short distance would become increasingly difficult.  Already the days were growing shorter and the hand of night remained upon the land even longer.  

BOOK: The Last Sundancer
10.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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