The Unfinished Song (Book 5): Wing (5 page)

A second quiver of arrows were brought forth. These
were painted green, fletched with white dove feathers: the Doves,
or lifedebts, to be paid. Lifedebts “stood on the shoulders” of
deathdebts, meaning lifedebts had to be paid first.

“By tradition,” said Nann, “The keeper of the
lifedebt may demand from the debtor whatever he wishes. Since there
were so many lifedebts born in the battle, however, some of which
cannot be properly known or counted, I ask that the same price be
set on all of them. Each Dove shall be redeemed with seven jars of
goods, or else, if this wealth cannot be found, a year and a day of
service. If two are in each other’s debt, or to each other’s kin,
the debts, of course, balance each other.”

After the ceremony, Tamio sought out Hadi. “Are you
mad? Fifteen?”

“I had no choice,” said Hadi. “The rest of the clan
will return to the Corn Hills to try to rebuild our clanhold. Every
hand will be needed for that. I’m the only one useless enough to
spare.”

“But Hadi.
Fifteen?
I’m not sure you can win
one
fight with an Orange Canyon warrior, never mind
fifteen.”

Any other young buck would have bristled at the
slight, but Hadi just hunched his shoulders. “Yeah.” Then he
managed to look even more miserable. “Might be sixteen. Tamio, have
you seen Dindi? Jensi and I looked everywhere for her. I figured
she must be with you…?”

Tamio was ashamed to admit he had not even thought
about her. Yesterday’s obsessions never haunted him. He’d hunted
and lost his prey, but there was other game in the forest. Hadi,
however, still thought they were betrothed.

“I haven’t seen her.”

Kemla heard what they were discussing and joined
them. “The enemy stole the White Lady. Dindi stood in their way and
was almost struck down, but I did not see if she was hit or not. I
was attacked and had to defend myself. After I killed the man who
attacked me, I looked for Dindi’s body, but I didn’t see it. So I
am sure she survived.”

Kemla added that last bit quickly; Tamio knew she
was sure of no such thing.

“Why were you on the battlefield at all?” Tamio
demanded. “And why did you speak for a Raven?”

“I was on the battlefield because that’s where the
enemy
was, Tamio,” Kemla said, as if addressing an idiot.
“So if I wanted
to kill some of them
I had to be there.”

“You cannot be thinking of joining the raid into
Orange Canyon territory.”

“Of course I’m going. I have a Raven to pay, don’t
I?”

“You must give the Raven to someone else, go home to
Full Basket and help your clan. Isn’t that right, Hadi?”

“Uh…” said Hadi.

“Fa! I’d have a better chance of surviving the fight
for all fifteen of Hadi’s Raven’s than he’d have fighting the one
of mine.”

“Uh…” said Hadi.

“I wasn’t suggesting you give it to Hadi. You will
give it to me.”

“In your dreams, Tamio. And what were you thinking,
taking three?”

“Why shouldn’t I take three? Hadi took fifteen!”

“Yes, but he’ll die in the first, so it hardly
matters how many he takes.”

“He might have gotten lucky and survived
one
.”

“I’m standing right here,” Hadi reminded them.

Tamio would have kept trying to bang some sense into
Kemla’s thick skull, but the wooden slats across the entrance to
the Great Lodge slid aside.

Rough, hairy men and a few women with wild, tangled
hair pushed their way into the lodge.

“Welcome, wildlings,” said War Chief Nann. “I have
Ravens plenty for you.”

The tribesfolk fell silent and parted to allow the
wildlings to stroll down the center aisle of the lodge. Paro walked
with them. He turned to meet Hadi’s eyes. Hadi smiled weakly.
Yesterday, it would have made him miserable to owe the wolfling a
lifedebt. Yesterday, he had not had fifteen deathdebts to pay. A
lifedebt seemed a light burden in contrast.

Paro took one of the Ravens; he also took a Dove,
and this he brought to Hadi.

“I haven’t seven jars of goods to give you,” said
Hadi. He tried to sound regretful.

“Then you must be my slave for a year and a day,”
said Paro.

Yes, yes, yes! No raid for me! No more fighting, no
killing, best of all, no dying! For a whole year, at least, I will
have a chance to live in peace! Hadi wanted to dance for joy, but
he tried to look as doleful as possible.

“Sad but true,” said Hadi. He heaved a great sigh,
as befit a man put upon by cruel fate. “I have no choice but to be
your slave for a year and a day. What would you like me to do
first? Fetch your water, chop your wood and tend your hearth every
day? Build you a house? I know you Green Woods folk aren’t much
into planting and sowing, but have you considered a patch of corn?
I’m really pretty good at growing corn.”

Fa, at least, better than I am at
fighting
.

Paro’s lips twitched. “It would be nice to sleep
under a roof again, actually, but I don’t think it would be kind to
make you build a whole house yourself. I would not abuse your
lifedebt to me.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I mean, I have no choice. Seeing
as I’m you’re slave and all. Of course, I’d rather go on the raid
and wreak mayhem like a raging maniac, but I’ll just have to save
all that raw rage and death-fever for after my service. It’s going
to be difficult, because, you know, I am an angry, angry man.”

“You’ve a beast prowling in your heart. I can see
that.”

Hadi squinted. Was Paro laughing at him? Paro did
not crack a smile, but his eyes seemed to twinkle.

“Right, then,” Hadi said, with as much dignity as he
could muster. “Just so we’ve cleared that up.”

Hadi was already planning the house he would build
for Paro. A nice, solid house, made from clay bricks, with a thatch
roof, not a smelly hole in the ground. And he would definitely
plant corn. He missed cornbread powerfully. Single-handedly, he
would bring civilization to the Green Woods tribe, whether they
liked it or not. Just because he was a slave didn’t mean he had to
eat poorly, did it?

That would have been that, except Jensi appeared out
of nowhere. She looked terrible. Not
ugly
-terrible, but
miserable
-terrible. His sister was a pretty girl, even with
her bangs singed and her face painted skull-white.

“I know my brother owes you a lifedebt,” Jensi told
Paro. “You must know he has nothing to give you. We lost most of
what we had in the first attack by the bird-people on our clanhold.
Then we lost so many of our kin in this battle. We have not even
enough hands to rebuild our own clanhold. There is nothing to
spare.”

“I know,” said Paro. “Your brother will be my slave
for a year and a day.”

“No,” she said.

“Jensi,” Hadi warned.
Please shut up
. “It’s
not like I have a choice.”

“No,” she repeated.

“Jensi, um, let’s not make the man who can change
into a wolf mad, right?” Hadi tittered nervously. “She’s just
kidding, Paro.”

“No,” said Jensi. “Hadi will not be your slave. Not
for a year, not for a single day.”

Paro looked angry. “Do not think that because I am a
wolfling you can disregard your kinsman’s debt to me.”

“He will not be your slave…” Jensi steadied herself
with a deep breath, then took the white arrow from Paro’s hands.
“…because I will take his place.”

Paro blinked at her in surprise.

“No!” shouted Hadi.
You’re ruining
everything!
“Jensi, stay out of this! I
will
be his
slave! Not you!”

“I know you would sacrifice yourself for me,” Jensi
said, touching Hadi on his shoulder. “But I know why the beast
forced you into his debt. He will never stop hurting you until he
gets what he wants. I can’t allow anyone else I love to suffer, not
if it is in my power to stop it. I will go with him and he will
leave you alone.”

Shame washed over Hadi. How could he explain to
Jensi that he wanted to be a slave to hide his own cowardice? How
could he explain that after the war, he would do literally
anything, no matter how demeaning, to never have to raise a spear
against another man again? Her bravery humiliated him.

“Please don’t do this, Jensi.”

“I must, Hadi.” She kissed his cheek. “I love
you.”

“I accept you in your brother’s place,” Paro
said.

“No!” Hadi cried.

“I’m sorry, Hadi. It must be this way. My life ended
with Yodigo’s death anyway. Take your freedom and live your
life.”

Paro gripped Jensi by the arm. “This suits me well.
I think I will take my slave and leave now, before she changes her
mind.”

“Don’t do this,” Hadi begged him.

“Sorry, but she offered,” said Paro. He leaned close
to Jensi and sniffed her hair. “And she smells much better than
you, Hadi. No offense.”

Jensi shuddered.

“Go gather whatever belongings you own,” Paro
commanded Jensi. Already the bastard was ordering her around! “And
wait for me. I would have a word with your brother alone.”

Jensi hesitated.

“A slave must obey her master,” Paro said.

Her eyes flashed in anger, but she stomped away.

“Hadi,” said Paro. “I know you think I’m a
beast.”

“Really? Why would I think that? Maybe it was that
whole turning into a beast and tearing men’s throats out thing you
did. Or maybe it was
stealing my sister
!”

“I didn’t steal her. She offered herself to me.”

“You didn’t have to accept!”

“I did. The wolf in me…. One thing I have learned in
the short time I have lived in the wild. Wolves mate for life. It’s
as a much instinct as the kill. I cannot help how I feel about your
sister.”

“If you really cared for her, you’d give her what
she wants.”

“I know what she wants.”

“She wants to be free!”

Paro shook his head. “She wants to be safe.”

Hadi opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. Paro
was right.
Dindi
was the one who had always chased after her
own way, no matter what the consequences. He pitied the man who
ever tried to make Dindi a slave. Jensi had only ever wanted a
quiet home, with clear rules and sensible behavior.

“She wants to go home to the Corn Hills,” Hadi said
finally. “She hates it here, she always has.”

At this, Paro nodded. “That much is true. I will
take her back to her own people, as is right. There, I will protect
her.”

“She will never be your
mate
, Paro. No matter
what you do to her, her heart will always belong to Yodigo.”

“Perhaps,” Paro said stiffly. “But I wanted you to
know…. I promise you, I will not ask anything of her I would not
have asked of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“I really don’t.”

Paro grinned. “I’ll ask her to build me a house.
Fetch my water, chop wood and tend my fire. Maybe plant some corn.
But nothing more…until she offers. Enjoy your freedom, Hadi.”

Paro looped away. If he’d had a tail, it would have
been wagging.

“Freedom.” Hadi sagged down onto a log bench, next
to his pack, where he had placed the fifteen black arrows he’d
claimed for his clan. “Mucking freedom.”

Like an Initiate to a dark future, Dindi stumbled
after her captor, bound and blindfolded. Two years ago, she had
been kidnapped from her home and been forced to walk blind through
the forest, much like this, but thankfully it had been no foe who
had taken her then.

This time there was no doubt she was in the power of
an enemy.

Despite her bravado, she despaired. It had been
foolish to threaten the man in black.
Umbral
. She had not
been able to help herself; every time he even looked at her, from
that face he had no right to, her anger overthrew her fear. But
now, blindfolded and sickened by the foul magic with which he bound
her, her sparks of courage fled her as swallows fled winter. After
all his talk of fate and war, why had he spared her, even
temporarily?

I deserve to get some use from you
. She could
still feel his rich, deep voice, Kavio’s voice, roll through her as
he said those words, craving tinged with irony, replete with
unvoiced promises under the surface of the words. As if she were a
thing for him to possess, an arrow or a vase, and he had perverse,
explicit plans.

Tamio had taught her not to overthink the simplicity
of male lust. There was one obvious reason her captor might have
decided to keep her alive. The other Deathsworn had reached that
conclusion already. She just did not want to believe it, because it
terrified her.

To be taken by force would hurt and humiliate any
woman. Other women had endured worse however, including women in
Dindi’s own clan, whom she knew of through the history dances. If
they could survive it, Dindi swore she would too.

But to be taken by a man who wore the face, body,
voice, of the man she had loved, the very man he had murdered? To
have her memory of Kavio despoiled along with her innocence? She
knew that would tear her into shreds. Umbral would not have to kill
her after he used her. She would die in his arms.

Perhaps he knew that. Perhaps it was the real reason
he had not killed her yet. He wanted to break her first.

Dead, burnt branches snapped at her calves, bare
under her cape. Because he had let her put on her old clothes, she
still had two important things: The corncob doll, and the shard of
the bowl that Kavio had broken before her. At the time, she had
thought no other pain could compare to the lash of his
rejection.

Now she knew otherwise.

Kavio had known the man in black would kill him. He
dreamt of it. The Banshee cried his name. Was Umbral right? Had
Kavio’s fate been set? Was her own death just as foreordained?