Book of Remembrance: The Forgotten Gods: Book One (4 page)

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Row upon
row of tables and chairs filled the large room. The communal dining area was
open to the whole town and by the time we walked in it was already crowded. Having
loaded our plates up, we joined Jamber and Jench at a table in the far corner.
“Where is Wilm?” I asked as we sat down.

“The Kichwa has called him and
Brant in for the witness statements,” Jamber said.

I grimaced. I’d forgotten about
that. My conversation with Jamber the previous night had unsettled me. I still
was not sure what to think of what had happened. I was just hoping that Brant had
not seen anything unusual. If he said anything along the lines of what Jamber
had said, it would call the whole Hunt into question. The slightest mention of
this and the Kichwa would take great pleasure in putting a stop to my
Induction.

Jench must have seen my unease.
“You have nothing to worry about, Kadin,” he said. “We were all there. We know
that it was conducted in a legitimate way. That’s all this is about.” He gave
me a reassuring smile.

I looked over to Jamber and I
saw my own apprehension reflected in his dark eyes. “I expect we will all be
called to gather around midday to hear the Kichwa’s decision,” he said. “You
need to be ready. Once he speaks the verdict you will have to leave
immediately.”

The solemn look on his face told
me of the double meaning to his words; if the Kichwa should decide that the
Hunt was not authentically executed, I would have to leave the Tretakai. I
would be exiled. My stomach tightened to a hard knot at the thought.

When the call to assemble in the
village square came, my heart started racing. It felt as if I had a bird in my
chest trying frantically to escape. I’d already said my farewells to Moma and
Lilana, but my brothers were standing with me. For all his confidence earlier,
Jench had tension etched all over his face.

The Kichwa stepped onto the
dais, his face solemn. I had to fight off an urge to sneak to the back of the
crowd and disappear.

Wilm was standing next to Brant
behind the Kichwa, but I could not read the expression on his face.
 
The Kichwa cleared his throat and the crowd
hushed. “The Witness has given his report and I have gathered all the
evidence.” He paused for a long moment, his eyes scanning the crowd until they
found me; his mouth tightened and his chin lifted up a fraction.

“I hereby affirm the
authenticity of Kadin Aken’s Hunt and therefore, the commencement of the
Seeking,” he said, his hate-filled eyes still holding mine. His face was a mask
now, but I could see the loathing simmering beneath the surface.

“The Seeking will commence immediately.
Bring forth the mount,” the Kichwa said.

Overwhelming relief swept
through me. A huge cheer broke out through the crowd and my elated brothers
enveloped me in hugs. Brak was jumping up and down with all the excitement
around him, his purple tongue flapping about sending spittle flying.

Breen, the young stable boy, led
a horse to me with my permitted provisions already strapped to the saddle. As I
mounted the huge pitch-black mare, the Cha rode up next to me on a chestnut
gelding. He was a spindly man. His snow-white hair fell to his shoulders and
his face was a map of deep crisscrossing lines. One who did not know who the
Cha was may have taken him for a frail old man until he met his eyes. They
spoke of wisdom and power. He was to accompany me into the forest to give me
guidance for the Seeking and preparation for what I would have to achieve
before returning home.

People lined the street up to
the city gate. As usual, I scanned the faces for Aliana. She was standing near
the back with her mother. She looked sullen. Her mother was talking to her,
shaking a finger about and scowling. She looked away in the distance and
without a word to her mother stalked away. I wondered what that could have been
about. I pushed thoughts about Aliana out of my mind and enjoyed the moment.
Sitting on my horse and riding out between the cheering crowds gave my
confidence a boost.

Once we were out of the gates we
picked up the pace, the Cha leading the way west. He was a man of few words and
for the next few hours of riding, he kept his silence, not even responding to
my attempts at small talk.

Finally, we slowed to a walk and
at a seemingly arbitrary
spot,
he stopped and nimbly
jumped off his horse. I dismounted as well and unsaddled the horses. I did not
bother tying them up, trusting to their good training to keep them near.

Dusk was coming in and still without
a word, the Cha set about making a fire. I gathered kindling and soon we had a
fire going. The Cha looked over to me. “Sit,” he said.

I obeyed and watched as he
started grinding up various plants and herbs. As he was doing this, he gave me
a measuring look and said, “You are not Tretakai.”

My stomach dropped. “Do you
think this is a bad thing, Kadin?”

I looked at his face hoping to
find some clue as to what he expected of me. “I have always wanted to fit in,”
I said. “To have
people’s
approval. I feel I have been
judged by my birth.”

He gave me a wry smile. “You do
not think we are all judged by our birth? Would the Kichwa’s daughter not have
a different expectation of life than the farmer’s daughter?”

I was about to object that it
was different in my case when he continued. “Is the approval of the town of
such great importance to you? Yes, I can see that it is so let me rephrase the
question. Why is this so important to you?”

 
I had never actually given the ‘why’ of this
matter much thought. I took a minute to gather my thoughts. Several times, I
opened my mouth to start speaking only to shut it again to rethink my words.
“Well, I suppose that even the farmer’s daughter still has her place in the
community. She belongs. Nobody looks at her and wonders why she is there. I
guess what I mean to say is that because I do not feel accepted or approved of
I have always felt adrift. As if growing up with the Tretakai is only a
transient part of my life and not really my home.”

The Cha had a pensive look upon
his face. “So you think that this feeling of being detached from the Tretakai
stems from them not accepting you.” He said this more as a statement of fact than
a question, so I waited for him to continue. “Have you not considered that this
may truly stem from within you? That you do not feel easy where you are,
because you are not yet where you are supposed to be, or for that matter, doing
what you are supposed to do? Think on this: Has this notion of discontent grown
more intense over the past few years?”

In fact, it had, but I had put
this down simply to growing older and becoming more aware of my environment and
the people in it. “I am sure also,” he said, “that you would tell me that it
has seemed to lessen ever since you started learning the Navitas.”

Before I could formulate an
answer, the Cha spoke once again. “You know that I foresaw your coming, Kadin.
I sent your moma to collect you from the forest. You growing up amongst the
Tretakai
was
no coincidence. You feel adrift because
you are. You must fulfill your training with the Seeking, but then you will
move on. There are a great many things you do not know, young Kadin. Many you
must discover on your own, but one I will grant you.”

The Cha dipped his finger into
the herb mix he had prepared. He put a kettle over the fire and brought water
to the boil. He added the mixture, making it into a kind of tea and started
chanting in a low hoarse voice. He was speaking a tongue that I did not
recognise.

The tea started to smoke, but
smoke was the wrong word for it. It was as if mist was rising from it. It
turned blue, the colour of the sky on a particularly cold day in winter. It
started swirling and forming patterns. Just as I thought I could distinguish an
image in the mist it dissipated and started again. Finally, the Cha dipped a
cup into the kettle and set it to one side. He removed the kettle from the fire
and poured the remaining tea into an empty water skin. Once it had cooled, he
handed me the cup gesturing for me to drink.

After one sip, I shuddered,
lowering the cup. It had a foul, bitter taste. The Cha gave me a stern look. I
grimaced, but forced myself to finish the rest. “Each night you must drink a
cup of this until none remains,” he said.

I nodded my agreement.
 
In truth, I was a little disappointed. I was
expecting some instant reaction, some revelation to come to me…. but nothing.

Then the Cha continued. “Your
parents only knew each other for a few months before marrying. Her parents did
not approve of the match, but your mother could be as stubborn as a mule. Your
father was not from Merandal as she was. That in
itself
would have been enough to earn the disfavour of your grandparents, but there
was more. You see your father was…. different. He had peculiar eyes that could,
it was rumoured, look right into a man’s soul. Some folk even spread tales
saying that they had seen his eyes glowing.”

As the Cha spoke, vivid images
came unbidden into my mind. It was as if I was in a different place. My mother
was standing in her garden looking out over a field of wild flowers. She wore
her long blonde hair in a thick braid down her back, her stomach swollen with
child and she rested her hand protectively on her bump.

Behind her, was their house in
Merandal.
 
It was a
cosy cottage at the foot of a hill with a beautiful wooden door, carved with
intricate designs all along the frame. My father came out of the house and
walked up to her. He had a strong face with a square jaw, his skin dark from
long hours in the sun. His ash blonde hair was short and his eyes. They were
exactly like mine.
Ice blue.
The
eyes that had set me so apart from the Tretakai.
 
The eyes that were rumoured to glow as Jamber
said mine had during my Hunt. It was clear though that neither of them were
aware of my presence.

“It was thus, that he was not
only disliked by your grandparents, but the whole town mistrusted him as well.
Soon after the wedding, your mother, Nereem, fell pregnant with you. She was
overjoyed, as was your father, Rekaw. All was well, or so it seemed.

“The day before your birth had
started like any other. Your mother had gone to the market early to get some
things for breakfast that morning, but this is where it all changed. A man
approached her with a warning.”

It was as though I was standing
next to her listening to the old man with the ice blue eyes
warn
her of terrible danger. I could see her panic growing as she watched the old
man disappear into the crowds.

“She rushed home,” the Cha
continued, “but there her grief started. She burst into the door only to find
Rekaw on the floor lying in a pool of blood. His throat had been cut, but not
before he had been tortured. He had numerous cuts all across his body and his
left eye had been removed. Your mother bent over him and whispered a prayer for
his departed soul.”

I stared down in horror at the
disfigured body of my father, my mother bent over him murmuring, her voice too
low for me to hear; tears were running down her face. She kissed him on the
forehead and stood up. It was too terrible to look at and yet I could not draw
my gaze away.

“Your mother knew that there was
nothing more that she could do for him and if she stayed, she and her baby,
you, would be next. It might already have been too late, but your father not
only kept from giving them any information, but he had managed to misdirect the
pursuers.
 

“She put some travel food in a
bag, slung your father’s hunting bow and quiver full of arrows over her shoulder
and set off immediately.

“She ran into the forest. She
looked over her shoulder, scanning for pursuers when she stumbled over some
tree roots. A searing pain burst through her shoulder. She stopped and looked
down to see a hole in her shoulder where an arrow had pierced. Had she not
stumbled the arrow would have been through her heart.”

I gasped, shocked to see my
mother in such a terrifying situation. I wanted to help her, but of course no
matter how real it seemed, it was only a vision and no action of mine had any
effect. In a heartbeat, she jumped behind a tree to take shelter. I looked at
my mother’s face expecting to see the horror of the situation reflected in her
eyes, but what I saw was composed determination. With steady hands took the bow
from her shoulder and nocked an arrow.

She glanced out from behind the
tree catching a glimpse of her assailant. She took a deep breath and stepped
out again and, taking
aim,
drew the arrow back. The
moment the pursuer broke his cover she let the arrow fly. It hit the man square
in the chest piercing his heart and he dropped dead on the spot. She stepped
back behind the tree. She peered around for several minutes – perhaps looking
for other attackers.

She tore a strip of fabric from
the hem of her dress and tied it around her shoulder as tightly as she could.
After a few minutes of careful listening, she slung the bow back over her
shoulder and set off.