“Are you okay?”
“No. I’m far from okay. They’re going to kill him, Zepharos.”
“That’s not a given.”
“Are you kidding? You saw everyone’s reaction. But heisgood. Hedidsave me.”
The Oraku man stared at her a long moment. “I believe you. The issue will be, will the elders? For that is what will ultimately determine his fate.”
“Then what do I need to do to make them believe me? I wouldn’t be alive if not for him, Zepharos. I have to save him.”
He studied her a long moment, gauging the fierce look in her eyes. This was not the same woman he’d left behind in the Dohrag camp. Something had changed. She was driven as always, determined and strong, but there was more. Whatever had happened to her, it was because she’d been captured. And that, he felt, was his fault.
“Tell me Zepharos. What can I do?”
He shook his head, ideas churning through his mind. “I don’t know, Shalia. I honestly don’t.”
35
Shalia barely slept that night, and the entire following day passed in an anxious blur. She’d asked everyone she knew, but access to her mate was flatly denied. He was a Dohrag, and their commander, no less. He would live, for now, but that was about all any would say on that matter.
She searched the village for Zepharos, anxious for his help. He owed her, though she was actually grateful for her capture. She’d never have found her mate if not for those inauspicious beginnings. Regardless, the Oraku man undoubtedly felt guilty. She held no grudge, but if his emotions could be leveraged to gain access to Valin, then so be it.
Zepharos, however, was nowhere to be found.
“I saw him early this morning,” Farbal said, the familiar face from her arrival in the camp providing the first, and only, glimmer of information as to his whereabouts. “He was heading out of the village.”
“Did he say when he’d be back?”
“I didn’t ask. He was carrying a large pack on his shoulders. Perhaps he felt the urge for a change of scenery, I cannot say for sure.”
“Which way did he go?”
“He headed toward the plains to the east, but I heard what sounded like a ship not long after, though I don’t know if he was aboard.”
Shalia felt her gut sink. So much for that idea.
“Okay, thanks, Farbal. Have you seen Rohanna?”
“She is with Tikanna and Niala in the council hut. They have been in session since early this morning.”
“Great, thanks. I need to talk to them.”
“You can’t. This is a closed session, village elders and leader caste only.”
“What? Why?”
“I hear they are discussing the fate of the Dohrag prisoner. It’s not often someone of his rank is captured.”
“I need to get in there.”
Farbal chuckled. “Oh, that won’t be happening. Adzus and the others are standing guard. It’s a rare occasion that calls for a full tribunal.”
“But I have to talk to them. To explain.”
“They will be in deliberations all day. But while no one will be stepping forward in the prisoner’s defense, it is custom that the floor be open for comment from our people at the end of the session. After that point, whatever the tribunal has decided will be carried out in the morning. Punishment by labor, sometimes banishment. On the rarest of occasions, even death, though the Oraku are loath to stoop so low as capital punishment. In the case of Dohrags or Raxxians and the sort, however, an exception might be made.”
Shalia’s blood ran cold. He could be sent away. Worse, he could be killed. Yes, the Dohrags were a terrible people, and they had done countless wrongs to the residents of this world as well as many others. But they didn’t know Valin’s story. His plight. What had driven him to excel. Nor could they possibly know his true nature. The man she had found beneath that fierce exterior. The man she loved.
