He Who Lifts the Skies (40 page)

“We’ll look like mere hunters’ kin,” Gebuwrah sniffed.

“There’s nothing dishonorable about being hunters’ kin.” Teasing, Keren added, “Anyway, you have the same status you’ve enjoyed for years; you can still boss everyone around, so be happy.”

Gebuwrah looked offended. She had been spoiled by too many years in the Great City, and by her own self-indulgent nature, Keren decided. Finishing her sleeve, Keren donned her new leather overtunic, then bound all her linen robes into a protective leather hide. She would need them in a few days. But she would continue to wear her gold to remind her guardsmen of the death order.

Relaxing now, Keren gazed up at the rough-barked birches and listened to the birds calling within their branches. It was good to be in the mountains again, though she dreaded the conflicts ahead.
You could become one of those conflicts
, Keren thought to Gebuwrah.
You’ll certainly hinder my plans if you learn of them. How can I be rid of you?

A worse conflict would come when she had to face her parents and the Ancient Ones and see their eyes fill with disgust, anger, and pain.
Forgive me
, she pleaded with them.
You will hate what I must say
.

You’re planning something
, Zehker decided, watching Keren sort through her belongings, packing them. Most telling to Zehker was that she had shunned Shaw-Kak in favor of Dobe. She was using the dull little horse exclusively to carry her personal gear. As Keren finished tying a bundle onto Dobe’s back, she turned and caught Zehker staring at her. She swiftly looked away.

Zehker returned to his own horse, thinking,
Obviously you don’t want to include me in your plans. Unfortunately, I won’t give you that choice. If you run away, I’ll track you until your precious Dobe drops like a stone
. Shutting his eyes briefly, he warned himself.
Be careful
.

I can’t put you in danger
, Keren thought, avoiding Zehker’s gaze.
But I’m sure you’ll follow me. I won’t be able to stop you. What can I do?
She reconsidered her plans. Evidently, solitary escape wasn’t an option. But she didn’t want her guardsmen following her. Then she smiled. She would make them want to leave her—at least for a while.

Eliyshama’s wife, Tsereth, saw Keren first and dropped her grinding stone, astonished, her dark brown eyes widening as she stood. “Keren-child!”

Hearing her, Tsereth’s youngest children scampered out of the stone-and-timber lodge, shrieking and laughing. Keren’s mother, Chaciydah, followed the children, burst into tears, and ran to her daughter.

Dismounting, Keren hugged her gratefully, crying, “I’ma! How I’ve missed you!”

Chaciydah wept, refusing to release Keren. “Tell me you won’t leave me again.”

“Pray!” Keren whispered, wiping her mother’s tears and kissing her again.

Nine-year-old Yelalah squealed, “Keren! Let Nekokhah and Achyow see your eyes; I’ve told them about you, and they don’t believe me.”

“How can you even remember me?” Keren demanded, laughing at Yelalah, who was a wide-eyed mixture of Eliyshama and Tsereth. “You were a toddler when I left.”

“I remember everything,” Yelalah said indignantly.

“You only remember all the stories we’ve told you, O Lady-of-Endless-Wisdom,” Tsereth chided. “Now, you and your brother and sister step back. I’ma-Chaciydah, let me hug Keren. You look terrible, Keren-child. But never mind, we’ll fatten you up.”

Keren hugged her sister-in-law, warning softly, “There are spies in my household; they will report everything to Nimr-Rada. So your sons and my father and Eliyshama shouldn’t touch me—I don’t dare risk their lives.”

“Even here?” Tsereth asked, shocked.

“Even here. I’ll keep my household separate from yours to be safe.”

“I’ll go warn Eliyshama and our Meshek,” Tsereth murmured. Turning, she called, “Achyow! Come with me, my son. Let’s find your father and brothers. And we should tell Father Meshek that our Keren is here.”

“I haven’t seen her eyes,” Achyow pouted, shaking his dark-waved head. Keren studied Eliyshama and Tsereth’s youngest son, guessing he was five years old—and probably spoiled by Chaciydah.

“Look at me,” Keren commanded in her best Sharah voice. “Obey your mother!”

Seeing Keren’s eyes, Achyow gasped aloud and backed off, clutching Tsereth’s tunic. Tsereth winked at Keren approvingly, then led Achyow away. Yelalah twittered.

“You’ve scared him! He won’t come near you for a year; he’s such a baby.”

“Don’t tease him, my Yelalah. Come give me a hug and show your sister that I’m not a monster.”

Delighted, Yelalah skipped into Keren’s arms, kissed her, and demanded to play with Keren’s gold ornaments. Not to be left out, seven-year-old Nekokhah—whom Tsereth had been pregnant with when Keren left the mountains—approached Keren shyly, clasping her hands beneath her chin. She had the same straight dark hair and ruddy-brown skin as Yelalah, but less of her vivacity. Keren smiled at her and patted her mother, who hugged Keren again.

“I’m so glad you’re home—we speak of you continually!” Chaciydah wept. “Your brother Neshar is here too; he escaped that Nimr-Rada months ago.”

Keren froze, then hushed her mother quickly. “Don’t let anyone in my household hear that! Half of them are spies for Nimr-Rada; they’d betray Neshar.”

How did you escape?
she wondered to Neshar. She was thrilled. And terrified.

Yelalah tugged insistently at Keren’s sleeve. “I
do
remember your eyes!”

Keren’s fears faded as she laughed, enjoying Yelalah’s sincerity. “I believe you.”

Tsereth returned as Keren unpacked and tended Dobe. “The men are coming,” Tsereth said loudly. Lowering her
voice, she added, “I’ve warned them as you said. Meysha and Darak are going to the Lodge of the Ancient Ones. They will take Achyow along.”

Keren sighed, relieved, though she longed to see her nephews, Meysha and Darak, now young men of nineteen and seventeen. “What about Neshar?” Keren whispered.

“I’ma-Chaciydah told you he’s here?”

“Yes, and I’ve warned her to say nothing; we must keep Neshar hidden.”

“Neshar will also hide with the Ancient Ones. Thankfully, he rode his horse to the herds this morning.” Ever busy, Tsereth lifted Keren’s bundled ceremonial garments.

Thinking swiftly, Keren whispered, “Can you hide that bundle in your stable? And is there room for my horse?”

“Of course, now that Neshar’s horse isn’t there; I’m sure my milk goats won’t mind the change.” Tsereth smiled. “Keep your guardsmen-spies busy, and I’ll hide these—though later I’ll want to know why.”

As Tsereth departed, Keren approached her guardsmen, Erek, Becay, Ethniy, Abdiy, and Zehker, who was watching her closely. She smiled. “My father will certainly harvest a lamb or a goat for us to feast on tonight, but we’ll need more meat later. Would any of you like to go hunting?”

“We’d need to hunt for more than one day to harvest enough meat, Lady,” Becay answered, condescending.

“Of course,” Keren agreed humbly.

“But for no more than seven days,” Zehker commanded them.

Erek narrowed his eyes at Zehker. “What are
you
going to do while we’re gone?”

“He will be chopping wood,” Keren interposed coolly.
“And he could use help.”

The guardsmen bowed and retreated, eager to leave. Zehker also bowed to her. A corner of his mouth twitched, covering a smile.

Hiding her glee, Keren went to help Revakhaw and the others set up their tent.

Keren’s eyes filled with tears, watching as her father and Eliyshama penned their sheep before their lodge.

Eliyshama waved his herding staff at her, grinning. “You look awful! Have you been starving yourself?”

“I was near death, which is why He-Who-Lifts-the-Skies sent me here,” Keren said, smiling through her tears. “Eliyshama, please, hug Father for me as if you’ve not seen him for years!”

Instantly Eliyshama dropped his staff and gave his father a crushing embrace, kissing Meshek’s cheek, then pounding his back happily. “She’s missed you, Father!”

His dark eyes brimming, reddening, Meshek stared over Eliyshama’s shoulder at Keren. When he was able to speak, Meshek said, “I wish you the same embrace, my Keren-child. Now tell me everything.”