Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Aine

“Are you sure about this?” 

“Absolutely… kinda… yes?” Aine replied as she took the dagger from Aadyani’s outstretched hand. She stuffed into her pack, making sure to plunge it deep under her clothes. She looked around the tent she had shared with a couple other women and back to her pack. She really didn’t have much. Even with the extra clothes and weapons, Aadyani had given her. She glanced at Aadyani to see the same worries and fears reflected in her eyes. This was risky. And they both knew it. 

Over the past three days, she had grown close to the leader. There was something about the woman that she couldn’t resist, respect and sense of camaraderie. She was strong, a true leader. But she also had compassion, a trait she hadn’t seen in many leaders. And to be honest she felt at home here, in this settlement. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time and it scared the living daylight out of her. Because every time she came to care for people or begin to relax, something always went wrong. 

She was a harbinger of destruction. It followed her like an attached pup. And that was when her gifts, powers, were dormant and repressed. She didn’t want to think about what troubles would arise now that her powers were surfacing without her control. Over the last three day,s she’d had the same recurring dream. Her mother holding her, both of them surrounded by warmth, her mother being ripped away, her last words always “Listen!” and then complete darkness, followed by the appearance of faces, hundreds of faces streaked with blood, the smell of copper smothering her. One face always stuck out, front and center. A boy with silver eyes yelling for her to run, yet reaching for her desperately, terror dancing in those eerie eyes. Then she would bolt out of bed, panting and sweating. She could never remember the boys face, or the faces of any of the others. Only those liquid silver eyes. 

Aadyani said they were visions. But visions of what. And why was she having them. What did her mother mean to listen? And who was the boy. Aadyani didn’t have any ideas either, except that the boy must be a heavens child. Only those blessed by Luna, goddess of the moon, had eyes of silver. Just as only those blessed by the sun had eyes of gold. Though she had a hard time believing either, seeing as her eyes were amber, not gold. When Aadyani heard this she merely shook her head, telling Aine to have some faith. Kinda hard to do when the gods seemed to have forsaken her and her whole race. 

“Aine?” Aadyani prompted. She blinked, realizing she had been staring at her while lost in her thoughts. 

“Yeah. Guess its time, huh?” She said looking down at her pack one more time. 

“Unfortunately yes. We can’t keep him waiting. Who know what trouble he’ll get himself into if we take to long,” she smirked. Aine laughed wryly, it had been very satisfying seeing Aaron teach the kingsman a lesson. They walked out of the tent and through the camp. 

“You know you have a home here,” Aadyani said low.

“I know Yani,” she said squeezing the leaders hand affectionately. “Ill try to get back.” 

Aadyani gave her a look, as if to say you don’t sound confident. Wel,l she wasn’t confident. But she straightened her shoulders and reminded the woman, “I can’t put you or your people in danger. Ill try to return but it may take time. Ill try to keep in touch though.” Aadyani pulled them to a stop and stared into her eyes. She stared back, fire filling her gut. Not anger, but determination. 

“Theres the fire heart I know,” Aadyani grinned wickedly. Aine grinned back. “Now lets get you to that mysterious Kingsman. Are they always that mysterious?” Aadyani asked as they resumed their walk to the stables.

“If you mean the whole cloak and dagger thing he’s got going on, yes. They are all like that. At least all the ones I’ve met.”

“What about the one who gave you your cloak…”

“What do you mean,” Aine asked stiffening.

Aadyani gestured to the cloak she had dawned, “it is made of the same material, no?”

Aine grit her teeth. Truthfully, yes, it was. “Yes, its the same material. As for how I acquired it… I woke up wrapped in it the day after my mothers death.”

Aadyani looked at her quizzically quirking a brow. Aine quickened their pace, anxious to duck her friends scrutiny. Aadyani kept pace with her as they entered the stables and headed for the horse, standing ready and saddled. 

“How did you come up with the name Ranhita, anyway?” she asked, hoping to divert the conversation.

“It means swift. And don’t think your getting out of this so easily, mila.”

Aine growled at the woman as she swung up into the saddle of the horse she had taken from caltervene. Aadyani snatched the reins, holding them hostage. Aine glared hard at the woman, but she didn’t budge. She simultaneously loved and hated the fact that aadyani wasn’t intimidated by her like most people were. After a long tense moment, Aine looked away, off into the desert, recalling the moment.

After seeing her mother, dangling from that noose like a rag doll, everything became hazy. She remembered a male voice but not much else. The next morning she had awoken in the Inn she had been working at, wrapped in the cloak. The Innkeeper said a young man had brought her back. He hadn’t left a name or message, just the cloak. Quickly, wanting to end the conversation she told Aadyani all she remembered. Sympathy and rage coiled in the leaders eyes. 

“That should have never happened,” she said horsely. 

“But it did. Point is, I don’t know who gave me the cloak.”

Aayani guided her horse out of the stables and towards the dune where the kingsman waited. After a minute of silence she said, “doesnt that mean you may have an ali among the kingsmen?”

Aine scoffed incredulously, then thought about it. She hadn’t heard of the kingsmen ever ‘giving’ their cloaks away. They wouldn’t, couldn’t. Not when they were a symbol of power and rank. It would be like giving the royal crown away. 

“Id never thought of that… But no. Aadyani they are hunting me.”

“Under the kings orders,” she pointed out. True… so far as she knew, it was the king an dalgerstanians that wanted her dead… but only after the current king had risen to power. After all, she had been born in dalgerstane, and she vaguely remembered her mother telling her she had also been born there, and in the past had been accepted as a heavenschild. 

A cluster of individuals formed ahead and she sobered from her thoughts. As they drew closer, she could see that none of them had moved. Arron turned to greet them as they came to a halt beside him. Aadyani had re-done her head covering without Aine noticing. 

“There is a few days food and water in your saddle bags,” Arron said to Aine. She had grown fond of him too. though, not of his brutal training. He had pulled her from her tent every morning and tossed her into the same training class as the other youth her age. She had quickly learned her skills were rough at best compared to the others. But she had worked hard and was a quick study. Though she hadn’t learned much considering it had only been three days. Arron had said it was for her own good, and to keep practicing. But she didn’t know how he thought she could, while in the custody of a kingsman. 

A high pitched whistle pierced the air followed by the creek of bows. They all whipped their heads to the kingsman. He shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. The faint crunching of sand drew her attention to the horse plodding up to the diligently, straight toward the kingsman. He raised a hand and scratched the beast on the nose and under the chin. An affectionate snort came from the horse as he nuzzled the hooded figure. The kingsman went to his saddle bags, rifling around in them for something. 

“Aine,” a gruff whisper drew her attention. She bent down so Arron could whisper in her ear. “Be cautious with this one. I don’t trust him. He’s more than what he seems.”

Her brows pinched as she look from arron to the kingsman now coming towards them. What did he mean? She didnt have time to ask so she locked gazes with arron ad nodded. he nodded back. 

“Hands,” the kings man said as he approached the otherside of her horse. He had a rope in his hands. 

“really?” she whined, “I am coming with you voluntarily!” He just stood there and waited. Ugh, she hated this man. she extended her wrists and he tied them leaving one long end. He then tide that end to her saddle. there was still quite a bit of rope left when he whistled softly and his horse came trotting over. He then proceeded to tie her to his horse. 

“Is this really necessary?” she growled again, tugging at the rope. he had left her enough room to hold the reigns comfortably, but still. She hated being restrained in such a way. 

“Yes,” he said dryly. Then he mounted. A hand on her thigh drew her attention from the insufferable b*****d to aadyani. She leaned over again to hear her friends words. the shuffling of the other Nahati covering her words from the kingsmans hearing. 

“Remember what I told you, come home. And heed your mothers words, there is more to your visions than you realize.” their eye locked and she nodded. Then, in a louder voice, she said, “may the winds bless you.” The other Nahait around them echoed her. A bold declaration on all of their parts. Those were words usually only spoken to kinsmen. And to say them unabashedly to her in front of a kingsman was an out right declaration of her status as a friend and ali to the Nahati. 

“And may the sands bless you,” Aine replied in traditional fashion. 

“Let’s go,” the kingsman said, spurring his horse into a walk, then a trot and finally into a canter. 

Ranhita followed, moving in almost perfect step with the kingsmans horse as Aine watched the only place that had truly felt like home since her parents deaths, grow smaller and smaller behind them.