Amyu stood there, breathing hard, staring at him. The sun brought out the highlights in her hair, the tan of her skin, and the anguish in her eyes.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice shaking and out of breath. “Please don’t.”
He’d put that pain there, in the eyes of a warrior who had only offered kindness and aid.
He couldn’t look at her, so let his gaze drop away. But she deserved to know the truth. His truth. He brought the dagger to his lap, opened his mouth and tried, one last time.
She stood there, so patient, as he struggled for words, for sounds that made sense.
It was torturous, but he got it out, finally.‘I am worthless. Nothing without my voice, my words, my songs. I will gladly go, to end this….’
When the last of his stuttered, stammered words fell from his lips, Amyu nodded.
“We of the Plains say that only the sky is perfect.” Her voice wasn’t quite steady, and he noticed her hands were shaking. “But that isn’t really true. The Tribes expect perfection from each member of the Tribe. The broken or flawed are seen as a burden, to be shed as a snake sheds its skin.”
She looked up at the sky, and Joden took the moment to watch her, standing in the sun, her long hair hanging down her back, her face so solemn.
“How many newborns with partial limbs or harelips are sent to the snows by the theas? How many of the young ones who fail to pass the Rites of Ascension, like me? I was expected to take myself off to the snows as soon as my usefulness to the Tribe was ended.” Amyu took a step closer to Joden. “How many older warriors broken or flawed by battle ask mercy on the battlefield?” She broke off. “But I would not know, would I? Having never been permitted to enter battle since I am a child.”
Joden shook his head, but Amyu was having nothing of that.
“Oh no, Joden of the Hawk, in the eyes of the Plains I am a child and a burden, barren and unworthy.” Amyu’s voice broke. “You say that you are worthless, and nothing. The snows, you say, and as an adult and a warrior of the Plains that is your choice and your right.”
Amyu took another step, quiet strength in her very being.
“I may be just a child,” she said. “But hear a child’s truth. I think this is a mistake.”
She lifted her chin, as if to defy the world on his behalf. “I think you act too soon. The snows are always a choice, but they will wait, Joden. The Warprize is a healer, isn’t she? And Master Eln? Who knows what healing they may have for you? What harm in delay when there may be a chance that this, that this problem, will change?”
“W-w-worse,” he tried to explain.
“Or better.” She answered. “But death is final. There is no turning back.”
Joden considered her, then looked down at the blade in his hand. There was truth in her words. And, elements help him, he did not want to add to the pain in her lovely brown eyes. She deserved so much more.
“You did not kill Simus when he was injured in battle. You had hope for him,” Amyu added quietly. “Have hope for yourself.”
But there was a difference. Simus had still had his leg. Joden reached up to touch his throat.
“Also,” Amyu added dryly. “If you go to the snows, I will have to drag your body back down the mountain and tie it to a horse and haul it to Water’s Fall, because no one will believe our story that you were here.”
Joden laughed, strong and hard with no restraint. And when he was done he smiled at Amyu, who smiled back.
“Stay your hand, Joden of the Hawk. Walk with us yet awhile.”
“W-w-with you,” he said, standing and sheathing the dagger in his belt.
A shadow passed over Amyu’s face, but it was gone in an instant. “For as long as you wish.”
They walked down the path, emerging from the trees to find Rafe and the other warriors standing by the campfire. Rafe’s face lit up when he saw both of them.
Amyu walked up and gave him a nod. “We will go to Master Eln in the morning.”
Chapter Eighteen
To his shame, Hanstau squeaked when Reness killed the guard.
It happened so fast. One moment the guard was smirking, the next Reness was lowering the body to the ground.
