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From: Delta <delta@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} RP "A Question of Honour" by Delta 3\5 (MF)
Date: Sun, 9 Jul 2000 09:10:05 -0400
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RE
Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by
E-mail at:
delta @ nym . alias . net
Comments and critizisms are welcome.
Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's
imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs,
or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author.
Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.
Delta.
A QUESTION OF HONOUR
Part 3
Riltan awoke in a cold sweat, sitting upright, his heart
hammering in his chest. He reached over for his canteen, noting
that his hand was trembling. 'Trembling', he thought, wryly
amused, 'shaking' was closer to the truth. He took a long pull
of water, trying to calm his mind and body.
The dreams were back - with a vengeance. The screams still
echoed through his mind as his heart rate slowly returned to
near-normal. He looked up to the sky. The great moon was
setting, the horizon lighting with the day to come. He took
a shuddering breath.
In the two nights since Takene and Iro had left, he had
been awakened by the dreams thrice. He would never be rid of
them, he feared. The last time he had awakened the boy with
his cries as he tried to escape the dream.
Riltan looked over to see Lere still sleeping - the sleep
of the innocent, he thought. His gaze wandered around the camp,
noting that everything was in its place.
The new camp location was definitely an improvement, Riltan
decided. It was more defensible, more difficult to spot and had
good access to water.
The damp night smells still hung heavy in the air. It
continued to surprise him that here, so close to the dry
wastelands, there was so much moisture in the air. Not that
he was complaining, he thought, yet it was surprising.
He shrugged into his shirt and fastened his boots. It
would be a waste of time to try to return to sleep, and there
was much to do. He began preparing breakfast for himself and
the boy. It would be a light breakfast today, and today they
must go looking for food as well. Once Takene had returned,
he would make the trip to the sacked Caravan. It was likely
that there would be emergency rations yet untouched. He would
go alone. Though it had been some time since the sack, it would
yet be a grizzly sight and the boy could do without that.
The boy. His gaze returned to Lere, sleeping quietly,
his face relaxed and soft in the early morning light. He was
a good boy, eager to learn. He had picked up signing rapidly
and had a good memory for the signs he'd learned.
His description of how they had escaped the carnage was
imaginative. They had been lucky to have been picking berries
at the time of the attack. Yes, he'd been imaginative, inventing
his own signs as he went. The telling of the tale had disturbed
Lere, however, and he'd been quiet for a time after that. Riltan
had brought him out of his thoughts with a little lesson.
Signing was easier than spoken language, Riltan thought.
There was little of the convoluted grammar to be found. It was
a language shorthand. It had the added advantage that he didn't
have to speak. In the past two days he hadn't spoken more than
a score of words. He found he liked that - not speaking.
His eyes focused again and he found the boy was looking at
him.
<Good Morning> he signed. <Good Sleep?>
<Yes> Lere replied. <Food Soon?>
<Soon>
Lere smiled at him and arose. He headed for the temporary
latrine which Riltan had constructed.
Breakfast finished, they cleaned up. Riltan replaced his
tooth-brush in its holder and turned to Lere.
<Women return today. Not-know camp move. We go - wait.>
Lere nodded. He ran through his vocabulary, questioning a
few signs. He smiled as Riltan nodded solemnly, recognizing his
effort. What pleased him most, was that now he knew something
which Iro didn't. It would sure surprise her.
Together the man and the boy slipped out of the new camp and
headed for the old one, the man wary and cautious, the boy struggling
to contain his exuberance. Behind them, on its lead, came the
pack animal.
Riltan was amazed by the boy's resilience. Perhaps it was
that he simply didn't realize the seriousness of the situation he
was in. It was all still an adventure, with safety no further away
than his Guardian - or Riltan, himself.
Riltan stopped short, causing the boy to look at him
questioningly. He shrugged and stepped out again. He would have
to watch himself, he thought. He would be leaving soon. It would
not do to have the boy become dependent upon him. That thought
suppressed the flip side - it would not do for him to grow close
to the boy.
Takene and Iro emerged from the brush and Lere moved forward
to meet them. He was stopped short by Riltan's hand on his shoulder.
<What?> His eyebrows went up in the question sign.
<Wait. Look.>
Lere obeyed. He watched Takene and Iro come to a halt as they
noticed that the camp was no longer where it had been. Riltan
tapped him on the shoulder.
<Not look-at women. Look beyond.>
Lere had not yet seen the sign for 'beyond', yet he got the idea
and understanding lit his face. He nodded. They were watching to
see if anyone was following the women before they made their presence
known. That is why they waited here instead of at the abandoned
campsite. Here one could see more, better.
When Takene and Iro had covered most of the distance to the
old campsite, Riltan motioned Lere to move forward a bit and wave.
He did so, realizing that his position would allow only Takene and
Iro to see him. He looked back at Riltan with respect and nodded.
Takene spotted Lere when he waved and relief washed over her.
She stopped short, causing Iro to bump into her. She gave a small
signal with her hand to say she saw him.
"What is it, Takene?" Iro was worried, Lere and Riltan should
have been there waiting for them. What had happened?
"Look at the campsite," Takene cautioned. "Lere just waved
off to the left. Don't look at him. They are watching our backs
for us."
"Why did they move the camp?" Iro wanted to know, as they
started forward again.
"I don't know. It was Riltan's doing, of course. He knows
these things - maybe he found a better site, maybe someone else
found this one and they had to move." Takene kept walking
without looking at Lere again. She loosened her weapon in
its holster. "We'll circle round to meet them."
"Is there trouble, Lere?" Takene asked, the moment they came
together.
"No, Guardian. We were being careful."
At those words the tension began to drain out of Takene. She had
not noticed it until it loosed its grip on her. "Good. And you
moved the camp to a better location?"
"Riltan thought this place was too open, Guardian." Lere
was struggling to understand the discrepancy between Takene's calm
voice and tense body language.
Takene turned to Riltan, who stood calmly by, watching everything
understanding more from the way she moved than from any words she
could say.
"And how are you, friend Riltan?" she asked.
<Fine> Riltan signed automatically, understanding the expression,
forgetting that Takene didn't know sign.
Takene's eyebrows lifted. <You sign?>
<Yes>
<Problems?>
<None. Move camp after you left. Better area now. Wait here
for you. Teach boy.> Riltan signed slowly.
<Thank-you, my friend>
Riltan looked curiously at that last sign, then accepted it with
a nod. Friend, he thought. A long time since that term had been
directed at him or who he had been. And what did he know about being
a friend, he wondered He would make it up as he went along, the
decision came to him. He nodded, slowly, ritually, at Takene and
signed, <Friend>
<Good> she signed back. His whole attitude seemed to confirm
her supposition that Riltan was seeking - more than that, reinventing
his existence. <What now? We go-to camp now?>
Riltan noted that her signs, though understandable, had subtle
differences. Apparently the two sign languages had close ties to
each other. Interesting, that. It was a relief, however. This
would make life much easier for all concerned.
Turning to look at the surroundings as he digested this new
relationship he surprised Iro, who was looking at him in a most
disconcerting manner. She flushed and turned quickly. What had
that been about?
<No. I not go-to camp. Go-to caravan. Boy take you to
camp. I return nightfall. Need food>
<No> Takene returned. <We-all go. Carry more, fewer trips.
More safe>
Riltan was forced to agree. He nodded and started off without
further discussion.
"Come on, Lere, Iro, we're going to the caravan for supplies."
Takene started the two off and brought up the rear.
The new turn of events had Takene thinking as well. Things
would be easier now. Riltan was not fluent in sign, yet knew enough
to make communication possible. She, too, was surprised at how
close the two languages were to each other, yet something about
Riltan's signing seemed very stilted, as if he could not convey
nuances. It was like someone using a dictionary to speak a foreign
tongue. As yet she couldn't figure exactly what had, or hadn't,
caught her attention. It didn't matter. In time she would.
It was not as gruesome at the sacked Caravan as Takene believed
it would be. Carrion eaters had savaged the bodies pretty thoroughly
and the stench of death, for the most part, was gone. Nevertheless
she and Riltan had left Iro and Lere in a safe place, watching over
them as they hunted for goods not taken.
The raiders had creamed the caravan, leaving behind the bulkier,
the heavier, and the more mundane items. That included a fair bit of
food - the emergency rations included.
Takene and Riltan worked quickly, wanting to spend as little
time as possible at the ambush site. They put together a pile of
goods which would be valuable to them, including as much food as
they could salvage.
In several trips they moved their salvage to a hidden location.
From there they would take what they could carry back to camp, returning
if necessary.
Takene looked grimly at the wracks of the bodies of those she
had known, however slightly. Riltan, she noted, seemed unmoved.
As they moved the last of the goods away from the caravan she
shook her head sadly.
<Sorry not time bury bodies>
Riltan seemed surprised. His eyebrows lifted a fraction.
<Why want?>
Takene was at a loss. How could she answer such a question?
Riltan continued. <Better. No grave, no monument. No one
say 'Here lie hero, villain, coward.' No one know. No one
care. Better. Food for birds. Birds also must eat. Better> He
nodded. "Yeah. When I go, I hope it is like this. No memories
left behind. Anyone passing will only think, 'someone died here.'"
He did not care that Takene could not understand him, did not
care that she looked at him curiously. Perhaps she was wondering
at his signs, or perhaps she caught his tone of voice, or perhaps
she understood his language. Whatever the case, she reached over
and touched him lightly on the shoulder. He straightened up.
"Yeah. Let's finish up." He found the sound of his own
voice strange and fell back into silence.
The silence lasted as he loaded up the pack animal, as they
filled and struggled into their own packs. They looked carefully
around, making sure they had forgotten nothing and that the goods
left behind were well hidden, then set off for the new camp.
The long slog back to camp was uneventful and passed in
the silence in which it had begun. As they unloaded, Takene
noticed the four beds which had been prepared and frowned a little.
Iro noted the same thing and a small smile played at her lips,
hastily covered when Takene turned towards her.
"It's been a long day. Get some water and we'll make supper."
"As you wish, Takene."
Lere's head came up. He had never heard his sister address
Takene as anything other than 'Guardian'. Takene saw his
consternation and smiled at him.
"Your sister has become a woman, Lere, and as such I am no
longer her Guardian."
"You took here through the 'rites'?" Lere questioned. He
had heard of the 'rites', yet, like most young boys, did not
know what they entailed - except for . . . . "But, what about
her . . . " his voice faded away at Takene's sharp glance, and
he looked over to Riltan. Riltan was paying them no attention,
simply standing and looking out over the landscape.
"We will not mention that, nor will we discuss it further.
Do you understand?"
"Yes, Guardian."
"Now, how were your two days with our new friend?"
"The days were good. He started teaching me sign and some
other stuff." Lere hesitated.
"But?" questioned Takene.
"The nights, Guardian . . ." He didn't know how to explain
something that he felt was personal to his new friend.
Takene became alert. "What about the nights, Lere?" It was
an order he couldn't refuse.
"He has bad dreams. Very bad ones."
Takene relaxed. "How bad, Lere?"
"He woke up screaming a couple of times. Other times he didn't
wake up, but I did. He was thrashing around - I didn't know whether
or not to try and wake him up. It scared me. I'm glad you are back."
Lere was relieved to get this off his chest. "Why does he have such
bad dreams, Guardian?"
Takene shrugged. "Sometimes we see things or do things that
bother us so much that they surface in our dreams. Maybe Riltan has
seen some bad things, or something bad happened to him." Or did
some very terrible things, Takene thought but did not say. Lere
looked content with the explanation and she let it drop.
In the third hour after moonrise the moans from Riltan's bed
became too much for Takene. She arose and approached the dreaming
man. His back was turned to her and she reached down and shook him
gently by the shoulder.
Riltan's response was as instantaneous as it was violent. He
grabbed her wrist and pulled her over him, coming to his knees as
she toppled. His eyes were wild in the bright moonlight and his
fist was drawn back to deliver a death-blow to her throat. It had
happened so suddenly, and Takene was so unprepared, that she knew she
was dead.
Riltan hesitated and Takene saw sanity slowly coming to his eyes.
He drew a long shuddering breath as his fist relaxed and he sat back
on his heels. He blinked a couple of times, then the enormity of
what he had almost done was upon him.
His eyes widened for a moment then he grimaced as he sank back
within himself. In a flash Takene realized what had seemed so
stilted about his signing: He didn't use his face.
It seemed an incongruous thought following, as it did, her
near escape from death, yet it burned brightly in her, signaling
its importance. In sign language, the facial expressions carried
a lot of the nuances which tone of voice carried in spoken conversation.
Riltan had been like a man speaking in monotone. His face was like
a mirror of what he was inside - empty. Empty by choice, she intuited,
attempting to refill the shell carefully.
A sudden compassion filled her and she reached for him as she
sat up. Riltan, however, shrank back and sat on his bed.
<Go-to bed. Please. Leave alone> he signed. There was a look
of anguish on his face. It was, Takene thought, the first real
expression she had seen him make. She wasn't sure, however, whether
that was a good sign or not. She thought it was.
Takene returned to her bed but could not fall to sleep. The
thought of what she must do weighed heavily upon her. That he was
no longer what he had been was clear. But did that matter? The
things he had done! Yes, it did matter. She no longer found within
her the revulsion at what she planned. She rested. It was, perhaps,
an hour later when Riltan began to moan once more. Shrugging off
her indecision she arose once more and approached him.
This time, however, she did not touch him, instead calling out
his name softly until he jerked to wakefulness. He looked up
guiltily, knowing he'd awakened her once again.
<Go-to bed. Leave me, please> his eyes pleaded with her, then
widened slightly as she shook her head no.
Takene, instead, crawled into his bed and snuggled into him.
Tentatively he reached an arm over her. She intertwined her fingers
with his and brought his hand up to her breast, where she let it rest.
His arm contracted, bringing her tight against him, before relaxing.
A few minutes later his breathing betrayed to her that he was sleeping
quietly. There would be no more dreams this night, she knew, yet
knew not how she knew. Slowly, sleep overcame her as well.
In the morning Takene moved her bed to join Riltan's, missing,
as she did this, the look of anger directed towards her by Iro.
Had she seen, it would have made no difference. What she had to
do, Iro would not understand. Not yet. Much later, perhaps, when
she had gained the responsibility which must come to her, should
she survive. Just yet she was a woman in name only.
It was only with experience that the mantle of womanhood
would rest easy on her shoulders - yet, for her very survival,
that experience would have to be delayed. Takene was not happy
with that, yet her duty demanded no less.
Riltan sat quietly, his back to a tree trunk, watching
her move the bed. He did not move to help, nor to hinder, her
in her task. She understood that he was letting her make her
own decision in the matter. It was a curious sort of honour which
led him to that path, she thought, something which she would not
have expected of the one whose reputation had long preceded him.
The sharp bark of a bitter laugh escaped her, attracting
his attention. She bowed her head so he could not read her
expression. This one, this seeker, she preferred, yet it was
the other one she would need - the killer - or perhaps some
combination of the two. Finishing the move, she straightened
and sauntered over to where Riltan was sitting.
<You-me, walk> she signed, nodding her head in the direction
she wished to take.
Riltan looked at her impassively.
<Need talk> she waited for him to move.
Riltan shrugged and clambered to his feet. <Not talk here?>
<No. Come> Takene set off and Riltan, after pausing a moment,
picked up his hat and followed.
The green leaves of the trees almost sparkled in the bright
sun as the soft breeze tossed them lightly about. Takene led the
way past the meadow toward the small pool which lay beyond.
At the pool, backs to a pair of young trees, they sat side by
side, turned slightly towards each other. Takene breathed deeply,
smiled and let the air out with a sigh. It was beautiful there.
Riltan nodded and took a deep breath himself.
<Dream bad?> asked Takene.
Riltan pondered his answer for a moment before answering.
Finally he confirmed, <Bad> He knew that it was common knowledge
around the camp - how could it be otherwise, with him shouting
his way to wakefulness.
<You-me, friend?> It was more a statement than a question,
and Riltan nodded. <Good> Takene's expression was intense.
<Friend help friend> she explained. She believed she could, yet
felt a certain distaste for her motives.
Riltan appeared slightly surprised and bemused. <How?>
<Hold you me> she replied and almost laughed as his brow
furrowed. <Touch strong. You relax> Takene rose and moved
behind him before sitting once more. Her back was against the
tree, her legs open, knees bent, and she pulled him back against
her, his head resting on her shoulder and her chin resting lightly
on his.
How many times had she held her man thus, or he her, in times
of pain? How often had the mere presence of the other lent strength
to the two, allowing them to go on when movement had no longer seemed
possible?
This was not her man, but he was a man, nonetheless. And he
needed her. She would have need of him later. It would be good
having him owing her. She grimaced at that thought. That was not
what she really wanted, she knew. It was, however, a necessity.
Riltan felt her breath against his throat, felt the
rhythm of her chest as it rose and fell. It was comforting and
both relaxing and exciting at the same time. If he concentrated
he could feel the beating of her heart in her chest.
She allowed them to remain thus for some time. Finally
she lifted her head from his shoulder. It would be interesting
to try and sign from behind, with her arms around him.
<Remember dream> she signed, gave him a few seconds then
began nuzzling his neck. When he moved his head to give her
more room she stopped and gave his face a light slap. <No.
Remember dream> she ordered. She then began to nuzzle his neck
from the opposite side. He have a low groan and moved his head
again. Slap.
<Remember dream>
<Can't>
<Good>
Riltan turned his head, put his arm back and drew her head
to his. He gave her a light kiss. Progress, she thought. She
stood and moved around to face him.
She pointed at him. "Riltan."
She pointed at a point a few feet away. <Dream>
She moved to a point between the two. "Takene. <Here Always>
Takene <Between dream and> Riltan <Always>"
Riltan wasn't sure he believed this, although he was sure
that Takene did. It wasn't really important. What was important
was that she was that she was doing this for him. It was something
he would not forget. No, this would make a good memory, something
he would want to remember. It would be the first good memory,
something to treasure. How could he thank her? He slowly
pushed himself to his feet and walked to her. He looked down at
the serious expression on her face.
"Okay. Just you between me and the fire and the flood." She
looked up at him, questioningly. He shrugged. How could he
explain? He put his arms around her and gave her a light hug.
She responded with a tight grip and he tightened his to match.
After a minute he relaxed a little to see if she would follow his
lead. She merely hugged him all the tighter and he replied in
kind. It was a long time before she finally released him. At the
end he became all too aware of the heat of her.
<Return to camp> Takene signed regretfully and he nodded his
agreement. He started off, then stopped as she held out her hand.
He looked at it for a long time, then took it in his own and
together, hand in hand, they made their way back.
end of part 3 of A QUESTION OF HONOUR by Delta
delta @ nym . alias . net
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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