Exile's Children (19 page)

Rannach said, “Vachyr stole my bride. She is innocent of any crime; neither did my brothers have any part in Vachyr's death. I alone slew him.”

Bakaan said, “No! We are as one in this.”

Juh raised a hand to silence them. “Then speak one by one.” He looked at Rannach. “Your bride was stolen?”

Rannach said, “Yes.”

“Then,” Juh said, “let her speak first.”

Arrhyna found Rannach's hand—comfort in his firm grip—and said, “He invited Vachyr to surrender, but Vachyr …” She shook her head, hiding her face behind the curtain of her hair. “Vachyr boasted of …”

Rannach drew her close, silencing her. “Vachyr would not surrender,” he said. “He … lied to me. He offered such insults as I could not take. I lost my temper and charged him.”

“Only after …” Once again Arrhyna found herself tugged close to her husband. This time she fought free, refusing to be silenced. “No, Rannach, let it be said clear, that all the People understand.” She held her head high, meeting the eyes of each akaman. “I swear in the name of the Maker that what I say is true—Vachyr took me by force from our lodge and, though I fought him, I could not prevent him. He beat me; then and again, and when I woke the second time he …”

She shuddered, and Rannach said, “You need not speak of this.”

Arrhyna sniffed and said, “I must. The … the second time he was on me, I fought him as best I could, but he is—was—strong, and I was dizzy from his blows …”

When she was done, she could hear her mother weeping.

Juh leveled a finger at Rannach, who told of finding Arrhyna gone and his determination to rescue her. Bakaan, Hadustan, and Zhy, he said, had come only to aid him in tracking the kidnapper—their intention to bring him back alive. He spoke of finding the trail obscured, and locating it again, of the final meeting.

When he was finished, Juh looked to Chakthi. “This thing of the tracks, of aid in the kidnap,” he asked, “was this known to you?”

Chakthi shook his head. “Neither that or aught of any kidnap.” He spat the words. “I say this Commacht slew my son in spite alone.”

Juh frowned. “In spite alone? Forgive me, brother, but that makes no sense. Why should Rannach slay your son in spite? Certainly, they vied for the woman's hand, but that was given to Rannach. Why should he be spiteful?”

Chakthi shrugged and sneered at Arrhyna. “Perhaps this wanton looked to share her blanket with more than one. Perhaps she seduced my son and her husband found them together.”

Arrhyna clung to Rannach's hand as he lunged forward. Racharran shouted, “No!”

From out of the crowd Zeil bellowed, “He lies! I know my daughter.”

Almost, Arrhyna was dragged off her feet. She locked a second hand
on Rannach's hair, snatching at a braid so that his head was hauled back and turned toward her.

“No!” she cried. “Do you not see what he attempts?”

Strong hands fell hard on Rannach's arms, and into his ear he heard his father say, “Your wife speaks sense; heed her.”

Her struggled awhile, enraged, the more for Chakthi's smile, which seemed to him triumphant. Racharran set an arm around his neck, another on his wrist. Hoarse, he said, “Do you insult my wife again, I'll slay you as I slew your misbegotten son.”

Chakthi said loud, “Now he threatens me. He's a madman. What would he not do?”

Yazte joined Racharran and Morrhyn, and together they fought Rannach down.

“Boy,” Racharran said as he struggled, “You do your cause no good with this. Now calm yourself!”

Into his father's face Rannach snarled, “Would you allow my mother insulted so?”

Racharran's face was an instant stone, then he shook his head. Rannach was too furious to see the misting of his eyes.

“Then why,” Rannach grunted, “do you grant Chakthi such privilege?”

Racharran sighed. “There's more afoot than you understand. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Rannach glared into his father's eyes, and for a moment Racharran thought his son would spit in his face. “You hear out that whoreson's insults and ask me to trust your silence?”

Pain aged the akaman at that, and he looked to Morrhyn, who said, “Rannach! This goes past insults. All the People stand in jeopardy, and Chakthi has some part in that pattern. Do you love the People—do you love the Commacht and Arrhyna—then rein in your anger and trust your father!”

Rannach still fought their hold. “Not save he side me!” His voice was harsh as steel on stone. “Not save he stand up and name that whoreson a liar!”

Morrhyn set a hand against his mouth: Rannach bit him.

Then a deep voice said, “Would you continue this discussion of yours, give him to me. We'll hold him.”

The Grannach were scarce half the height of a Commacht, but when one took his arms, and Colun sat upon his legs, Rannach knew truly how strong they were. A third squatted at his back, a hand upon his shoulder, ready to gag him. He fought them awhile, but it was as useless as if stone
encased him. He was grateful that Arrhyna came solicitous to sit beside him; he hated his father then, and Morrhyn for taking his father's side. He wished he had not come back but gone wild and renegade into the hills, anywhere there was honesty without the seduction of whatever politics went on here. He would give his life for the People, for his clan; but here, now, there was only indignity and embarrassment.

Still he must listen, and did he raise his voice in protest or argument, a grainy hand clamped hard over his mouth and he could only gasp for breath and lie still under the imponderable weight of the Grannach. Thus he lay and heard Bakaan speak of the pursuit, and then Hadustan, and after him Zhy. Then he heard Chakthi deny all involvement and suggest again that Vachyr was unfairly slain, likely murdered by all four Commacht, that likely Arrhyna shared her favors with all four. It was a sour tirade, and as he heard it, Rannach vowed that someday he would slay Chakthi.

When the Tachyn was done the akamans sat awhile in silence, each beckoning their Dreamers close. Then the younger men waited on Juh, whose seniority gave him precedence in such matters. He studied Arrhyna, who sat resolute beside her husband, and slowly shook his head. “I think grief trips my brother's tongue.” He spoke carefully. “That is understandable, but not”—he shrugged, his old eyes troubled—“hardly fair to this woman. Were she so wanton, would Vachyr have sought to wed her? Are there any here will attest to such promiscuity?”

From amongst the Commacht, Zeil shouted, “Only to her virtue!”

Juh motioned that Arrhyna rise and come forward. When she stood at the center of the circle, he said, “Forgive me, I would not question your chastity, but this must be settled clear, that there be no misunderstanding.”

Arrhyna nodded and Juh waved Hazhe forward.

The Aparahaso Dreamer rose stiffly to his feet and paced to where Arrhyna stood. He pointed to the holy mountain and said, “We stand in the gaze of the Maker. This is a holy place, where any who lie must surely bring down his wrath. Do you then swear that you are chaste?”

Arrhyna said without hesitation, “In the Maker's name, I do. I am … Before my husband, I knew no man. Since I was wed I have known only him. Save …” Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks; Rannach struggled with the Grannach to go to her. “Vachyr took me by force, and beat me until …” She looked from the wakanisha to Chakthi. “Do you go look at his face and see the marks I put there, fighting him!”

Hazhe declared, “I find her true.”

Chakthi shouted, “I am not satisfied. She lies! This is some Commacht device, that my son's murder go unpunished!”

There was a loudening murmur ran through the crowd then, as if bait were tossed over water and the fish rose. Then Juh spoke again.

“This is no easy thing,” he said. “There can be no doubt a crime has been committed; indeed, two. Shall my brothers hear my thoughts on this and then we decide what measures be taken?”

He waited until all voiced agreement, then rose and walked to the circle's center. Firelight and moonglow cast his face like worked stone. “First,” he said, “it is my belief that Vachyr was maddened by loss of the woman he'd have for his wife. I believe he stole Arrhyna, the which was ill done and a heinous crime.”

Chakthi's cry of “No!” went ignored, as was Yazte's enthusiastic “Yes!”

“But wrong cannot justify wrong.” For an instant, the ancient eyes fell on Rannach. “And it cannot be argued that the shedding of blood in Matakwa is also a crime. This is the second: that Rannach slew Vachyr even as the Matakwa truce bound him to peace. He scorned the Ahsa-tye-Patiko in that.”

“And must die for it,” Chakthi shouted.

Juh ignored this as he ignored the other. “Two crimes,” he said.

“The one punished; the second … We must speak of this.”

He returned to his blanket, seating himself as Racharran called to be heard.

The Commacht akaman took the speaker's place, his head a moment lowered. Then he looked up, eyes moving slowly about the circle. “Rannach is my son,” he said, “and I do not argue that he is headstrong, but this I swear in the name of the Maker—that before we came to this Matakwa, where I knew he would seek Arrhyna's hand, I had from him a promise that he would accept whatever judgment the Council delivered in that matter, nor raise his hand against Vachyr.”

“So much for Commacht promises,” Chakthi snarled.

“I trust his word,” Racharran continued, “and I tell you that what he has done he did because he had no other choice. Would any here”—he turned around slowly, his eyes encompassing the assembled akamans and all the crowd—“would any here, finding their wife stolen, not go after her kidnapper? Would any here, finding her beaten, not look to slay her taker?”

“The Ahsa-tye-Patiko!” Chakthi bellowed. “Shall we overlook the Will? Does the law no longer matter?”

“Your son stole Arrhyna. His was the crime. Rannach did only what any other warrior would do, in honor.” Racharran let his eyes move out over the crowd again. “Is that not true?”

Yazte was the first to answer. “Yes!” he cried, and his shout was
taken up by others until all the Meeting Ground rang loud and roosting birds shifted nervous in the trees.

When there was silence again, Racharran said, “Then I ask that the Council look lenient on my son. Had Vachyr not stolen Arrhyna, there would be no crime. Let the blame be Vachyr's!”

Chakthi rose to speak, but Hadduth clutched his arm and whispered in his ear and the Tachyn akaman fell back silent as Yazte asked to speak.

“I am with my brother Racharran in this,” the plump Lakanti said. “That Chakthi has lost a son is a sad thing. But the crime
was
Vachyr's—Rannach did no more than would I, or any other man. I say we should not punish him.”

Chakthi said, “My son is dead.”

“Then let there be a blood-price agreed,” said Yazte. “Let that be settled and put aside. We've other matters to discuss.”

Chakthi said, “My son's death is of no account?”

Doggedly, Yazte said, “Let the Council decide a blood-price.”

“No!”

Yazte shrugged, spread his hands in exasperation, and looked to Juh, who turned to Tahdase and asked, “Do you speak, brother?”

The young Naiche akaman whispered with Isten and then rose nervously to his feet. “I agree that Vachyr was wrong.” He glanced swiftly around, his eyed flickering from face to face. “It
was
a crime to steal Rannach's bride, but I think it is as my brother Juh says—wrong cannot justify wrong. And as my brother Chakthi says—blood has been shed in Matakwa and reparation must be made.”

Chakthi said, “I call for Rannach's execution.”

Racharran said, “Let the Council decide a blood-price and it shall be paid. But how can any call for my son's death?”

Tahdase looked helplessly to Juh.

The old akaman said, “This is not a thing we may decide easily, or swiftly. Do my brothers agree, I suggest that we speak on this. Save …” He ducked his head at Racharran, at Chakthi. “Save that two fathers are involved, and their loyalties are consequently divided. I say that neither Chakthi nor Racharran have say in this, but only we who have no part.”

Tahdase nodded his agreement abruptly; Yazte glanced at Racharran before he ducked his head.

Racharran said carefully, “So be it.”

Chakthi whispered again with Hadduth, then allowed it be so.

Juh said, “Then we three shall speak on this and deliver our decision.”

Chakthi asked, “When?”

Juh sighed and said, “This Council is already long, and we've much yet to discuss. Do we sleep tonight, and Yazte and Tahdase come to my lodge on the morrow? The People shall know our thoughts this next night.”

Chakthi grunted his agreement, then demanded: “And the while? Shall the murderer be guarded, or shall his father set him free?”

Racharran tensed at that slur, but held his temper checked and said nothing.

Juh's face expressed disapproval; he looked to Racharran. “Your word is good, brother. Shall you ward your son, that he attend our judgment tomorrow?”

Racharran said, “I shall.”

Juh said, “That's good enough for me.”

Chakthi looked to argue, but again Hadduth restrained him, and he lowered his head in curt agreement.

“Then,” Juh said, “when the sun sets tomorrow, let us all attend and this thing be settled.”

The Grannach released Rannach on his father's nod. He rose and set an arm about Arrhyna's shoulders; he felt very confused and a little afraid. He felt he tottered on the brink of a precipice, flailing for balance, and he was unsure whether the chasm was his death or the love and hate—both inextricably mingled—he felt for his father.

Racharran said, “Shall you remain?”