Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) (15 page)

A deep voice rumbled through the clearing, gently chastising him. “Be careful, uori. You are still recovering.”

Nikalys looked over at the giant man.

Broedi sat on the ground, smoking a long, white pipe, the first of its kind Nikalys had ever seen. The pipes used in Yellow Mud were short and wooden whose function trumped form. However, the ornate creation Broedi held was as much a work of art as it was a smoking-leaf pipe. Engravings of animals, leaves, and trees lined the sides of the pipe that, to Nikalys eye, appeared to be made of bone. Nikalys had tried to puzzle out to what type of animal it might have belonged, but he could not. He simply prayed it was from an animal.

“Why do you keep calling me that? Uori? I’ve told you twice: my name is Nikalys.”

The Shapechanger eyed him for a long moment before replying, “It is a word my kind uses. It means…” He hesitated a moment, pensive, before saying, “Young one.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Nikalys said, “Your kind?”

“Yes. ‘My kind.’”

“And what ‘kind’ is that?”

The Shapechanger puffed on his bone pipe twice and then lifted his gaze to the night sky.

Nikalys waited for an answer, but knew none was forthcoming. Their savior was a man of maddeningly few words. He had pressed Broedi at length about a number of things, but the giant’s answers were always short and uninformative. Eventually, Nikalys had shut his mouth, stubbornly deciding he would match the man’s reticent silence.

Shaking his head, Nikalys moved back to where Kenders slept and—wincing again--sat beside her. After checking that she was sleeping peacefully, he laid his head back against an oak’s trunk and shut his eyes.

“Perhaps you should sleep more, uori.”

Nikalys opened his eyes and stared at Broedi. “Pardon?”

Pointing the bit of the bone pipe at him, Broedi said, “You should sleep.” He looked to Kenders, adding, “You will need it when she wakes. You have a long journey ahead of you.”

Nikalys’ eyebrows narrowed. “What would you know about that?”

Again, Broedi stared at Nikalys for a long moment before slipping the tip of the pipe between his teeth and returning to study of the stars.

Frustrated, Nikalys muttered, “Blasted know-everything.”

The words were quiet enough that Broedi should not have heard. Nevertheless, the Shapechanger glanced back at him, the corners of his mouth upturned slightly.

Nikalys seethed in silence. This was like every other exchange the pair had shared today.

When Nikalys had awakened earlier, Mu’s orb had already crossed halfway across the sky. The soft, green pinecone that Broedi had given him last night had turned into a mushy, gritty mess. After sitting up and spitting it out, Nikalys had smacked his lips and grimaced; his mouth had tasted like bad ale.

Glancing around the camp, Nikalys had found the giant man sitting in the same place he was now, staring quietly at him and Kenders. Broedi’s lone acknowledgement that Nikalys was awake had been a silent, stoic nod.

Nikalys had immediately checked on Kenders and had been stunned by her vastly improved condition. Only the particularly grievous wounds remained. Most everything else had healed. Upon inspecting his own body, he had found that he was in the same shape.

Broedi had cleared his throat, drawing Nikalys’ attention. The man pointed in the direction of the fire where a veritable feast—three small rabbits and two quail—had been roasting over the flames. Ravenous, Nikalys ate both of the tiny quail and two of the rabbits before he knew it.

When he was done and wiping the juices from his mouth, he had looked at Kenders and felt guilty. He had not left much of anything for her. Seeing his consternation, Broedi had assured him that he would hunt for more. That being the case, Nikalys had finished off the remaining rabbit. Broedi had left a short time later—giving Nikalys time to change from his bloody clothes—and had returned as evening fell with more rabbits and quail. While the giant had not taken a sling or any other weapon with him, Nikalys suspected Broedi did not need a weapon to hunt.

After Broedi had given the game to Nikalys to clean, he had sat down, pulled out his long, engraved bone pipe, and filled it with smoking-leaf. Its aroma was similar to the cut men used in Yellow Mud, but much sweeter.

Nikalys had prepared the rabbits and quail, set them to roasting over the fire, and then sat down. More than a few times, he had braved a close inspection of Broedi, his gaze repeatedly returning to the white stone lion pendant hanging from the Shapechanger’s neck. Something about the white lion was intimately familiar, yet he could never place why he felt that way. He strained to remember, but it was like trying to remember a dream from last year.

With a heavy sigh, he stood to check once more on the roasting game. The meat was nearly over-cooked. He had wanted to try to keep the rabbits and quail warm for Kenders, but if he did not remove them now, she would be gnawing on blackened, charred lumps.

As he pulled the sticks from the ground, he felt Broedi’s eyes on him, observing. He tried to ignore the man’s gaze, but Broedi’s constant, silent watching was growing increasingly irritating. Standing there, with skewers in his hand, Nikalys could hold his tongue no longer. “At least tell me this: you’re a Shapechanger, aren’t you?”

Broedi pulled his pipe from his mouth, parted his lips, and let a long curl of gray smoke drift out, all the while peering at Nikalys. “Do you mean am I someone who has spent so much time with nature that I have become more beast than person?”

Nikalys nodded slowly, unsure that he wanted the answer now.

A slight smile touched Broedi’s lips. “No, uori. I am not that.”

Exasperated, Nikalys asked, “Then what are you? Who are you? And, Hells, as long I’m asking questions I know you won’t answer, what were you doing in the middle of the forest last night?”

Nodding at Kenders, Broedi replied calmly, “I will answer questions when she wakes.”

Nikalys shook his head in disgust. “Why not now?!”

Broedi stared at him, stoic. “Patience, uori
.
”

Nikalys glared at the man, pressed his lips together, and returned to Kenders’ side. Jamming the skewers with the roasted game into the ground, he sat next to his sister, ensuring his back was to Broedi. Sighing, he stared at Kenders’ sleeping face, wishing she would wake up so they could be on their way.

A lock of golden hair had fallen across her lips. With each deep breath, she drew strands into her mouth before blowing them out again. Nikalys reached down and brushed the stray hair aside.

“You care very much for your iskoa,” rumbled Broedi. “That is good.”

Nikalys looked over his shoulder and held the man’s steady gaze. “Iskoa?”

“Sister,” replied Broedi.

Nikalys nodded. muttering, “Ah.” He looked back to Kenders. “Of course I care for her. She’s all I have left.”

“I would like it if you shared some of your story, uori.”

A sly, sardonic smile spread over Nikalys’ face. He turned to examine Broedi. “You want my story?”

Broedi nodded. “Very much so.”

With narrowed eyes, Nikalys said slowly and purposefully, “I will answer questions when she wakes.”

Broedi’s faint smile returned, carrying with it a sense of familiarity that made no sense. With an accommodating nod, he said, “As you desire.”

Nikalys swiveled to face Kenders. He was done with Broedi.

Kenders now knew what a nail felt like when struck by a woodworker’s hammer.

She lay on her left side, stretched out on uneven, rocky, ground with something soft under her head. She cracked open her right eye, caught the bright light of the flickering campfire a few feet paces from her, and immediately squeezed her eyelid tight. The light made her head pound even more.

She attempted to speak, but all that came out was a low groan.

Behind her, someone scurried close, kicking up leaves and rocks. Feeling a light touch on her right shoulder a moment later, she heard Nikalys whisper with evident concern, “Kenders?”

“Mm-hmm?”

Nikalys murmured, “How are you feeling?”

She was grateful he was speaking softly. The fire’s cracking and popping was already too thunderous for her liking. It took her a moment to respond, but she managed to scratch out, “What happened?”

Another voice—a composed, deep baritone—rumbled, “Give her a moment, uori.”

Confused, she opened her eyes, but only halfway to keep the jabbing firelight at bay. It was still nighttime, but the air was much cooler than she had remembered it being when the lynx had arrived.

She wanted to sit and see the owner of the deep voice, but her head vehemently protested against the proposed movement. Through lips that felt thick and wooden, she managed to eke out a question.

“Is the cat gone?”

After an unusually long pause, Nikalys answered, “In a manner of speaking.”

The baritone voice reverberated again, relaying instructions. “Get her some water, please. I will get some more meadowsweet for her.” After a brief pause, he muttered, “Perhaps a larger dose, this time.”

Kenders wondered both what meadowsweet was and what the man meant by ‘this time.’

She listened as Nikalys stood and hurried from her, dirt, leaves, and stone crunching beneath his boots. The owner of the baritone voice also moved about the campsite with long, almost silent steps. Nikalys retrieved the waterskins and started moving back to her. Upon hearing the water sloshing within, she realized how thirsty she was.

The stranger sounded as if he were rummaging through a bag or satchel. After a small grunt of satisfaction, he tossed the bag to the ground and approached where she lay. The pair arrived at the same time.

The stranger rumbled, “I think it wise if you give this to her, uori.”

Hearing the unusual word again, Kenders wondered if a third person was here. Nikalys seemed relatively calm, but she was worried.

Nikalys knelt beside her and asked, “Do you think you can sit? I have some water and herbs for you. Broedi says they help with the headache.”

While she was grateful that something might stop the thudding inside her head, she was a little anxious as to exactly who this Broedi was. “I’ll need some help.”

Nikalys slipped his hands under her and helped prop her against a tree trunk. Once situated, he placed the waterskin in her hands and she raised it to her mouth. The first sip was glorious. She tipped the skin back and drank gulp after gulp, relishing the wetness soaking her scratchy throat.

The deep voice cautioned, “Slow down, uora.”

“Yeah,” agreed Nikalys. “Take it easy. Your stomach may not take too kindly to so much water at once. You’ve been asleep for nearly a day.”

She stopped drinking, lowered the waterskin to her lap, and opened her eyes, squinting against the brightness. Nikalys was crouched beside her on her left, a concerned expression on his face. Small red marks covered his face, neck, and arms.

“Asleep for a day? How in the—”

She cut off as her gaze drifted right. A pair of thick, muscular legs stood before her.

Her gaze traveled upwards to sienna-brown hide breeches that started just above the knees. Further up was a wide chest with two bulging arms crossed over it. Her gaze lingered on a white stone lion pendant that hung around the man’s neck before continuing to the stranger’s face.

“Oh my…”

The man who towered over her had to be at least seven feet tall, had golden-brown hair, tan skin, and dark brown eyes. She held the man’s penetrating stare. There was something vaguely familiar about those eyes.

“Good days ahead, uora,” rumbled the giant. “My name is Broedi.”

Her mouth hanging open, Kenders managed a quiet and impolite, “Uh-huh.”

Chuckling softly, Nikalys said, “You should see your face, sis.”

“Yours looked no different yesterday, uori.”

Nikalys stared up at Broedi for a moment before turning back to Kenders. “As long as your mouth is open, eat this.”

He held out the crushed remnants of a dried plant with tiny, white flowers. A bitter scent came with it. She accepted it silently, held it in her palm, and returned to gaping at Broedi. “Who are you?” Glancing back to Nikalys, she added quickly, “And what do you mean I’ve been asleep for a
day
? What happened?”

The giant gave Nikalys a long, solemn look that had purpose behind it.

Her brother sighed and stood. In a sober tone, Nikalys said, “Take that and sit for a moment. Then we can talk.” He glanced at the giant. “We all have questions we would like answered.”

* * *

Kenders sat in the clearing, munching on her quail without truly tasting it, trying to grasp everything Nikalys and Broedi had shared with her. Her gaze alternated between her brother, the dark forest, and the giant man sitting across the fire from her.

A Shapechanger. A blasted Shapechanger.

If her brother had not sworn three times to all of the gods, she would have called them both pretenders. After Nikalys’ third affirmation, she had demanded the Shapechanger to prove it to her. Broedi had politely refused her request, asking if she would order a bird to prove it could fly.

Eventually, she had come to accept the claim. Nikalys had no reason to tell a tale, and it certainly explained the lynx and Broedi’s presence now.

Fixing her gaze firmly on Broedi, Kenders said, “I suppose I should thank you for saving us, Mr. Broedi.”

“Please, just ‘Broedi,’ uora.”

Broedi had yet to call her by her name, using the strange term instead. Nikalys had quietly explained that—according to Broedi—he was ‘uori,’ she was ‘uora,’ which meant ‘young one.’

“Thank you,
Broedi,
then.”

The giant man inclined his head. “You are welcome.”

Glancing between the pair, she ensured her mouth was free of quail before asking, “What happened after you chased the wolves away?”

While the pair had explained Broedi’s role as the hill lynx, they had been silent about events beyond that point.

With a worried frown on his face, Nikalys asked, “What do you remember?”