AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I frowned as Solin smiled and resumed his seat beside Tiptu and her daughter, Naben.
Tral stepped forward, dressed in his well-groomed ceremonial fur and bead necklaces. “What Rakka means, Runa, is he’s heard tall tales, colourful sonnets, and the odd rowdy song or two about certain prophecies.”
“Prophecies?” I frowned. “Who...who is singing prophecies about me?”
Rakka let me go with a chuckle. “Those who listen to the whispers mostly. The nudges of elements and warnings from spirits.”
“And you listen to such things?” I crossed my arms over my calfskin dress, my hair strewn over my shoulders and tumbling down to my waist.
“I am the architect of such things.” He ran a hand over his short black beard with another grin.
I didn’t know that word, but I kept my face from showing my ignorance as he lowered his voice and spoke in a totally different tongue.
A tongue I’d heard more often than I should.
A language that belonged to Vetak, the water element.
“You can understand me, no?” His eyes narrowed as he flicked our company a shrewd glance. “You speak Firenese as fluently as these fire worshippers, but I have my doubts that you are Quelis born.”
Tral and Tiptu shared a confused look, wondering why the wanderer had switched tongues, but Solin kept a careful eye on me, watching my reaction.
It took effort not to reply.
It felt wrong to shrug and smile with a blank expression. “Sorry?” I asked in Firenese. “I’m not sure I—”
“You can speak Liquin. I see it in your eyes. The water gods have shared much about you and your own travels. News of you is whispered in every kingdom. News of him too.” His gaze flickered to Darro, who stood stoic and silent on the outskirts with Zetas proud and silver-furred by his side. “There’s a prophecy about a moth and a bee—”
My eyes whipped to his.
“Ah, so you do understand.” He smirked.
I stiffened.
I’d made a mistake.
I almost asked him in the language of the river—the tongue of Liquin—before I caught Solin’s wide-eyed stare and swallowed back words I shouldn’t know.
With a short laugh and a dumb shake of my head, I drifted to Solin’s side and sat on the spare boulder. Only to freeze as Aktor sat beside me, his thigh pressing hotly against mine.
I went to leave.
I tensed to stand.
But his hand clamped on my knee and his whisper was as imprisoning as a rope. “Don’t move. This is your place. It’s time you accepted it.”
Solin sighed heavily but he didn’t intervene.
Rakka’s eyebrows came down over shrewd brown eyes as he smiled a tight smile. “A match made in flames, I see.” His tone mocked, but at least it was in Firenese. “A match that will burn into ash.”
A shiver ran down my spine as Rakka suddenly spun on the spot in a flurry of silk and gemstones, raising his glittering arms at the gathered and eager Nhil crowd. “Are you ready for a tale?”
Younglings and elders all yelled their agreement, settling down with wine and furs, getting comfortable for the evening’s entertainment.
“I have many rich with mystery and wanting, tragedy and sacrifice! Stories of old, stories of new, and stories of lovers true!”
“Tell us!”
“The darker the better!”
The Nhil laughed and jostled each other, passing around the sweet-smoking pipe.
Rakka looked at me over his shoulder.
He held my stare.
He winked.
And my shiver morphed into a tremble.
What kind of stories would he tell?
My eyes flickered to Darro as Aktor dug his fingers into my knee.
He kept me trapped as Rakka launched into numerous tales.
The first stories were tame, full of his adventures, his stays with other tribes, villages, and cities. He shared information of culture, food, and ceremonies that other people far from here indulged in.
The Nhil listened with rapt attention while I stayed frozen beside Aktor, and Darro stood stiffly with his hand on Zetas’s head.
Time stretched on as the moon danced between wispy clouds, younglings dozed on parents’ laps, and by the time babes were gathered in gentle parental arms and carried into lupics to sleep, I was exhausted.
Parents slowly returned from tucking in their tiny kin, settling back down and thinning the crowd so only older faces watched the wanderer.
I tried to stand.
I went to murmur about retiring myself, but Aktor just glowered at me. Solin shook his head slightly. “We must stay until the end, Runa. Out of respect for our guest.”
I hid my discomfort and nodded just as Rakka beamed at the remaining Nhil. “Now that innocent ears are abed, it is time for not so innocent words to be spoken.” He grinned at the reclining, anticipative crowd. “Any requests?”
“Something wild!”
“Something crude!”
“Something that me and my mate can do in our furs tonight!”
Most Nhil chuckled at that, elbowing friends, and drinking cups of wine.
“I have just the tale,” Rakka announced, placing his fingers on the four tight strings of his instrument. The base, that sat on his thigh, looked almost like the skin-covered drums the Nhil played, but the long flat stick with the strings running along it made no sense.
