“And what does the Envoy say about my daughter?” I ask. “Just more of its craziness?”
Emar’oz takes his water skin from his belt and opens it. “We don’t know. The chief took the Envoy into his hut. We think he will keep it there.” He offers me the skin. “Refresh yourself, warrior. Hunting down a skarn is sweaty work.”
I don’t move. “I will not drink your water. Though I thank you for the offer. You will need it on your way home.” The last thing I want now is these three finding out about the ship and about Dorie. I might never get rid of them.
“Where’s the girl?” Frant’ex asks eagerly. “The baby? From the Lifegiver? The baby that you took?”
I rip some leaves off a bush and start cleaning my sword of skarn blood. “Do you mean my daughter? Little Aker’iz?”
“Yes!” he groans. “Of course I mean her! What other girls are there?”
Good, they don’t know about Dorie.
I check the surroundings. Still no sound, no sign of an ambush. “I can assure you all that my daughter, whom your tribe wanted to set out to die, is safe. You will all understand why I won’t tell you where she is. I can only assume that your orders from Chief Smirt’ax also concerned her, although you haven’t said it. Well, I hope you got what you came for.”
“But,” Frant’ex exclaims, confused, “we didn’t getanything!We found you! And we didn’t kill you!”
I force a laugh. “We all know what would happen if you had tried. It’s from the kindness of my heart only that any of you are still alive. Again, thank you for not killing yourselves on my sword. But I have no use of you three. Go back and report that you’ve killed me.”
Frant’ex frowns. “But wedidn’t!I told you! We didn’t kill you! Look! You’re standing up!”
Emar’oz rolls his eyes at his friend’s idiocy, which surprises none of us. “What Frant’ex means is that we were hoping for a better welcome than this. Why have you suddenly stopped walking, Kenz’ox? After several moons of daily travel? You’ve stopped moving. Why? What is there in this part of the jungle that you like so much?”
I think fast. Why have these three, never the shrewdest or most diligent of my tribesmen, followed me for this long? They could have returned to the village moons ago, claiming to have killed me. There are many possibilities. Most of them center on one thing: Aker’iz. They may want her back. It may finally have crossed their minds that a baby girl may grow up to be a woman. And whoever heard of a tribe that had awoman?It would be the most renowned tribe on Xren.
I look up at the dense canopy of leaves above me and sigh deeply. “You ask about Aker’iz. I suppose it won’t make any difference now. The tribe got what it wanted. The jungle got her. Finally. One man is not enough to keep a baby safe. I was hunting for food when two rekh got her. There was precious little left for me to burn on her pyre. But she got one, barely more than acampfire. And she got her little grave for her tiny bones. I rejoice in it. Because I will never get one.”
They’re stunned to silence.
I sheathe my sword and put my hands on my hips. It’s not good to speak of a living person as being dead. The Ancestors don’t like it. But I want these three to turn around and go home. “She’s with the Ancestors now. They won’t blame me. They know I tried. I tried with all my might to keep her safe. And I did, for a long time. But the jungle won. Your chief won. Tell him that. He’ll be happy, and you will be rewarded. A Lifegiver for each of you. Let’s hope none of you lift a girl out of it. That’s not a fate I wish on anyone.”
They look at each other.
“Then,” Emar’oz begins, “there’s not much more for us to do than turn around.”
Ah yes. I was right. They only wanted the baby.
“But,” Frant’ex protests, “the chief said?—”
Torkz’ik elbows him in the side, none too gently. “He told us to find Kenz’ox, which we have now done. He told us to kill him, which we will not do. When he asks for proof that Kenz’ox is dead, we will say that we killed him on a cliff over a river. He and his sword fell and sank in the water. We tried to find the sword, but it was gone. Yes. That’s it.”
Emar’oz takes a short step backward. “We would, of course, offer to bring you back with us, Kenz’ox, if things were different. But as they are, even if you are perhaps not cast out yet, the chief would once more order your death. So it’s best if you don’treturn to the village. Of course, we’re not thinking about our rewards for having killed you. That doesn’t matter to us at all.”
“It matters tome,” Frant’ex whines. “Can’t we just kill him now? If wedobring his sword, our rewards will be all the greater!”
I shift my grip on the sword. “You can try, Frant’ex.”
Both his friends grab him and pull him back. “No, no. We’ll leave our former tribesman alone. Goodbye, Kenz’ox. Happy hunting.”
They retreat out of sight, Frant’ex muttering the whole time until the sound fades.
I kick the skarn carcass, not the least bit happy about this encounter. “That was unexpected.”
It’s no mystery that they were able to track me this far. I know I couldn’t keep perfect jungle discipline the whole way. Aker’iz made that impossible. But something must have kept them going the whole way. And that was Aker’iz. Plainly, they were ordered to kill me and bring her back to the tribe.
A dark thought enters my mind. Would that not be better for her? To be raised in a real tribe, in a village? To be safe, to be protected by every man in the village? To have them all hunt for her and adore her? Because surely such a perfect baby girl would be adored.
I pack up the skarn and walk in a big arc through the jungle, listening for pursuers. I detect nothing. Perhaps they really did start going back, thinking that Aker’iz is dead.
