Ander - Part 6: Subchapter 42
42
For a moment, there was silence. Then the jeering began. Wolves scoffed and made rude hand gestures, yelling curses and foul insults.
"Not this again!?"
"We've waited long enough!"
"If you're too scared to fight, you can go home and curl up with your tail between your legs! We can march without you!"
"We're ready! We don't need any more time!"
"Why do you think I spent three days learning how to swing an axe!? To chop wood!?"
"Boooo!!"
Their voices soon fused together into an incomprehensible jumble of noise, mixed with an occasional swear, but Dorin simply let it wash over him. They weren't taking this seriously. They assumed he only wanted to delay the war, not stop it completely. That was probably the only reason he was still standing.
Wardo was watching all this with a smile on his face, rubbing his hands together. They both knew it was only a matter of time until it got out of hand, and when it did, his little act of defiance would become no more than a fun precursor to the real festivities, an appetizer to whet the tongue in preparation for the main course.
"Listen to me!" Dorin yelled, struggling to be heard over the tumult. "I'm not saying we should delay the war, and I'm not saying we need more time to train. What I'm saying is..."
This was it. This was his last chance to take it all back. This was his last chance to step away from the edge. If his life really was like a path through the woods, then this moment was like a fork, splitting off in opposite directions, and whichever side he chose, there would be no going back. Not until he reached his destination, and whatever fate might be waiting for him there.
Wardo perked his ears and licked his lips, like he was about to sit down to a nice meal.
"What I'm saying is..." Dorin took a deep breath. "We should call it off entirely."
Had a single word ever had such an effect on so many Wolves? Their faces... Dorin could barely stand to look at them. They twisted before his very eyes, morphing from mildly annoyed frowns and sneers into something utterly hideous. He couldn't even see them as individual 'faces' anymore, but rather a conglomeration of sharp teeth and furious, beady eyes - masks of mindless rage. The noise grew and grew, and so did their anger. Dorin could actually feel it striking his body like waves of heat.
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" one of the faces screamed. "We can't let those traitors get away with what they did! They crippled Ivio and Denko! They killed Hyker!"
A stone came flying out of nowhere and struck Dorin a glancing blow against the shoulder. In the freezing cold, the impact burned like a wasp's sting.
"Eye for an eye! Tooth for a tooth! Death for a death!"
"Justice!"
"And if it weren't for those damn Foxes, Banno and Chieftain Kadai would still be alive!"
"And Garten, too!"
Another stone landed right next to him, kicking up a small puff of snow. They were advancing. His circle of space was growing smaller.
"You're supposed to be a leader! You're supposed to be a good example for those who choose to live their lives by protecting the lives of their friends and family, but you're nothing more than a coward!"
The real warriors had gravitated closer to the edge of the circle, clubs and axes at the ready, spears pointed at the sky. They didn't look as angry on the outside as their novice comrades, but all of them were seething.
"What is the meaning of this, Sai?" Torjo asked. "Why do you say such things?"
Dorin could feel them pressing in on him like a physical weight, their anger, their frustration, their bitter resentment. By the Cora, was this what Ander had felt like? And Hezzi? It was so heavy he could barely stand upright... he could barely breathe...
"I will explain," he said, struggling to keep his head on straight. It felt like he was swimming against a current, as if his words were just being pushed back into his face by the sheer volume of angry voices flowing back at him. "I am not very good at giving grand speeches. I have always preferred to just do as I was told. It was easier that way. Simpler. But I can't do that anymore. Things have changed, and that change was very painful for me, and I do not want any of you to suffer like I did... but the change itself, the product of that suffering, it was not a bad thing. I only wish I could have found it without... without doing the things that I did..."
"What the hell are you talking about, Sai!?"
"Daylight's wasting! Get on with it!"
"Yeah! Either get to the point or get out of the way!"
Wardo had merged with the crowd without anyone even noticing, grinning from the shadows of Wolves who were head and shoulders taller than he was. He was enjoying this, watching his right hand squirm inside the shrinking circle he had created for himself, trying to think of something to say that could quell a thousand flames of hatred all at once.
He thinks they'll rip me apart right here, Dorin thought. It was definitely possible. A lone Wolf against this many was like pitting a rabbit against a bear. It would be torn apart. It would die in agony, fully aware of its innards being pulled out of its body by a starving set of jaws, because, in the end, they were all -
Animals...
A flash of red in the trampled snow, a glint of crimson, blinding against the white.
Dorin blinked, expecting the vision to disappear, but it persisted. His stomach did a slow roll as Wolves stepped in the puddle, smearing it across the frozen ground in thick, crimson streaks without even realizing it.
"It happened right there," Dorin said, pointing to a splash of blood that only he could see. "Right there."
The Wolves at the front stopped dead in their tracks, their animalistic masks temporarily replaced by looks of confusion.
The blood was still spreading, flowing into the melting snow in red tendrils, steaming in the cold, midday air. The Wolves standing where he was pointing took a few steps back, utterly perplexed.
The circle was getting bigger again. Dorin moved forward, knowing the blood wasn't really there, but this knowledge was still not enough to dispel the illusion. It was so real he could even see the imprint where she had fallen, the dips in the snow where her arms and legs had splayed out. And right next to her, two shallow trenches, side by side. It was the spot where Danado had fallen to his knees, cradling his sister in his arms. It was there that he had watched her breathe her last. It was there that the knife in her heart had finally stood still.
It was there that Dorin had become different.
He sank down to his knees in the exact same spot. He could actually feel the blood touching his legs, warm and sticky. He could even smell it wafting up from the ground, making him want to gag.
"It was here..." he said, lightly dragging his fingers through the crimson mash of blood and snow. Everyone was watching, just like last time.
Everything is repeating itself... everything_... the order doesn't matter. It's all the same time. It's all the_ one time. And it'll just keep repeating itself... over and over... forever.
"This is where I killed Lana. I took the Chieftain's knife and plunged it right into her heart and she died."
"Yes, Sai, we know," Torjo said. "We were there, we saw it happen."
"Did you? You think you saw it, but you didn't really. You didn't understand. None of you did." Dorin looked up from the mess he had made, into Torjo's frowning face. "Let me ask you, have you ever killed a Wolf, Torjo? Have you? Do you know what it feels like?"
The big guy was starting to look uncomfortable. "No...?"
"What do you think it will feel like?"
"We're not going to war to kill Wolves, Sai! We're going to war to kill Foxes!"
A smattering of cheers met this statement, but Dorin shook his head. "Do you really think there'll be a difference? If the one impaled on the end of your spear is a Wolf or a Fox, if they can cry and beg for mercy, if they can scream in pain, if they have friends and family they want to protect and keep safe, do you really think it makes a difference how big they are or what colour their fur is? Huh!?"
"That doesn't matter! For too long have I languished within these walls with nothing to strengthen my fists other than farcical sparring matches with weaklings! Too long have I thirsted in the Cora's shadow with nothing to bloody my spear other than simple game! I've had it, Sai! I am sick and tired of going through the same damn thing every damn day!"
Dorin had half a mind to stand up and slap this ignorant muscle-head right in the face. "It doesn't matter, you say? Well, lucky lucky you. Then I suppose it won't matter when you go over there and are forced to kill your fellow Wolves. That's the 'cause' behind this war, isn't it? To bring the traitors to justice?"
"Yes, it is!" Torjo said defiantly. "But judging by the way you speak, it sounds like you don't even want your vengeance anymore!"
"That's because I don't, you blithering idiot! I don't want any of this! And mark my words, once you know what it really feels like, you won't want any of it either! None of you will!"
The crowd booed and jeered, some of them brandished their weapons, but Dorin kept talking. He had no idea how much longer they would allow him to talk, and he intended to use every second he had. "You have a daughter, don't you, Torjo? She's only a few winters younger than Hezzi and Renna!"
"Yes, and what of it? She will stay home with her mother today. Neither of them have anything to do with this."
"You make her stay home because you love her, don't you? Then how can you so gleefully march to kill two Wolf children when you have a child of your own? If you understand that love, then how can you not understand that others feel the same way about their children, about the Wolves you so eagerly label as 'traitors' just so you can satisfy this perverse desire for blood!?"
"Why should I care about the way others feel about others!? None of it affects me! None of it changes a damn thing! It's not the same!"
"How!? How is it not the same!?"
"Because it's -"
An emaciated hand, adorned with numerous beads and bone charms, appeared out of nowhere, splitting the crowd in two as easily as a sharp knife would cut through melting fat.
It was Shekka, and although her eyes were pure white now, they somehow seemed to be looking right at him, as if she could see more than he could.
"It is not the same," she said, "because Hezzi is my son, and I am his mother. We go to war, not only to punish those who rightfully deserve it, but also to save those who have strayed from the pack."
"You mean like you 'saved' Ander?"
The slap came out of nowhere. One moment they were each inside their own bubbles of empty space, slightly overlapping, and the next he felt a flash of pain on the left side of his face, accompanied by the rattle of snake bones hanging from her wrist.
Dorin had to put his hand out to keep from being knocked over completely, and when he did, he felt his fingers sink deep into the crimson mess of semi-coagulated blood he was kneeling in. Had there really been this much blood before? Those moments, those endless, breathless moments when he did nothing but stand perfectly still and watch her bleed into the snow were branded into his memory, and this was not the same. There was a lot of blood back then, but not this much. This puddle he was kneeling in was much too big, much too dark, and much too gory. If he looked closely, past his own refection staring back at him with wide eyes, he could actually see the thin strips of meat floating around in its depths like a vulgar soup. He could feel it working its way between his fingers, so warm and thick.
He lifted his hand with a nauseating sclorch noise, and watched, fascinated, as ropes of gore hung between his fingers, connecting them like sticky bridges.
It's not real, Dorin. Don't forget, it's not real.
No. Just because I'm the only one who can see it doesn't mean it's not real.
Shekka still had her hand raised and was wheezing hard. Her skinny chest rose and fell as thin plumes of mist shot from her nostrils. "Ander is not my son," she said. "He lost the title of dosa the moment he killed my ensa. Hezzi is the only son I have left, and that is why I will go to war to save him. I will save him from the Foxes, from the traitors, and most of all, I will save him from himself."
"And what about my Renna!?" a new voice spoke up from inside the crowd, making Dorin's stomach do a terrible lurch.
No, Aisa! Don't be stupid! Stay out of this! Don't!
She worked her way into the open space, growing it even larger as Wolves retreated to make room.
This was getting out of hand. Dorin wasn't afraid of dying (he had made peace with death long ago, kneeling before Lana's secret pyre), but he didn't want to drag anyone else along with him. That was why he was doing this in the first place.
"Aisa, what are you doing!?" he asked, trying not to sound too desperate. "Get out of here!"
She made as if she didn't hear him, meeting Shekka's empty gaze with her own. "What will happen to Renna if we go to war? If your drisa can be spared, then why not my enka?"
"Your little slut is the reason Hezzi almost lost his life fighting this pathetic excuse for a warrior in the first place!"
There was a sharp intake of breath from the crowd as Aisa flinched back. Evidently Shekka was even better at slapping Wolves with words.
Aisa stood her ground. "My daughter is not a slut, and this warrior is not pathetic. He saved my life when I was about to throw it away. But what you're doing, Shekka, is not saving. What you're doing is condemning! Do you really think Wardo is going to let Hezzi live?"
"Unlike you, I trust my Chieftain!"
"Then you really are blind!"
"Ladies, ladies!" Wardo slipped between them, appearing out of nowhere like a giant spider. "There is no need to fight amongst yourselves. You are both proud mothers who only want to get your darling kiddies back. Quite understandable. Commendable, even. I can see that you're both under a lot of stress, but there is no need to worry! It's not like we're going to murder a pair of children in cold blood. Well, Wolf children, anyway. We will simply capture them and bring them back here, back home, where they belong."
"And what then?" Aisa demanded. "You put them on trial?"
"Well of course!" Wardo rolled his eyes, as if this should have been the most obvious thing in the world. "I may be a merciful Chieftain, but there are still laws that must be followed to maintain order. Your daughter broke those laws, and she must be held accountable. She will stand trial, along with any other traitors who surrender peacefully, and get a chance to say her say. The tribe as a whole will decide her punishment, if any, just like it has always been."
"But the final say rests with you, doesn't it?" Aisa spat.
"Is that not fair? I am the Chieftain, after all." He turned to Shekka. "Shekka, do you think I'd condemn a pair of misguided children to death simply because... you know, I'm not even sure what this woman is trying to accuse me of?"
"I trust that your judgement will be fair, Chieftain. If I get my drisa back, I will be forever grateful to you, and whatever punishment you deem necessary, not only will I respect and support it, I will match it with my own hand. That is my responsibility as a mother, something Aisa clearly doesn't understand."
Dorin knew instantly that Shekka had gone one step too far, and so did everyone else. They took a step back in unison, all eyes on Aisa as she growled beneath her breath.
"The Chieftain you revere so highly, the Wolf you believe to be the saviour of your child, is nothing more than a child himself! That pit he dug is nothing but a toy to him, and now he's looking for someone to play with! That's what this war is really all about!"
"I don't give a damn!" Shekka snarled back. "As long as I get Hezzi back, Wardo can throw every Fox and backstabbing Wolf into that pit for all I care! And that includes you and your whore of a daughter!"
"You damnable bitch!"
"Why don't you go beat up your little slut some more? Maybe if you hit her hard enough it'll bring Rinno back! Oh wait, you can't, because she's not here!"
Aisa gasped, and a sudden chant started to ring through the tribe, a thousand voices synchronizing into a beat that shook the ground, terrible in its eagerness and mirth.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"
Dorin didn't know what to do. Although the least likely to succeed, this was supposed to be Plan number 1. He was supposed to try and convince an entire tribe not to go to war using nothing but words. He was certain from the start that he would end up moving on to Plan number 2, but this soon? Why did Aisa have to jump in like that!?
And now that no one was talking about Wardo anymore, the cur had melted into the shadows again, disappearing like a snowflake in the sun.
"You think I'm afraid of you, you blind old witch!?" Aisa said, curling and uncurling her fingers, as if yearning to wrap them around Shekka's scrawny neck.
"I'm not the one you should be afraid of," Shekka said and pointed a gnarled finger at the statue. "It's the Cora's judgment you should be afraid of!"
And still the chant was going. Wolves pumped their fists up and down to the beat, creating a living ripple through the crowd.
"Stop it, Aisa!" Dorin shouted. "This isn't helping!"
It was no use. Both of them had gone into fighting crouches. If they started tearing into each other, any semblance of order this gathering once had would deteriorate into mindless chaos. Plan number 1 had failed, but he still had Plan number 2, and after that...
Dorin massaged his aching wrist, smearing imaginary blood all over his arm.
The last resort.
Just as he was about to stand up and issue the challenge, something happened.
A Wolf shoved his way through the crowd and fell, full length, between Shekka and Aisa. His cane sunk into the snow in a long, straight line, just out of reach.
It was Denko.
"Stop!" he shouted, puffing a fine powder of snow from his lips.
Aisa stepped back, but Shekka only turned her head, squinting into whatever darkness resided within those dead eyes, trying to figure out what had happened.
"Stop!" he shouted again, reaching for his cane. Finally, after forcing his body along the ground like a worm, he managed to grab hold of the tip and pull it close.
Dorin's mind was racing. As much as he wanted to believe this was a good thing, he simply couldn't imagine this ending in any way other than disaster.
The fighting chant was still going strong as Denko forced himself upright, leaning on his cane for support. Thick plumes of white vapour were pouring from his mouth by the time he got back to his feet, and Dorin couldn't help but stare at the blood slowly oozing from between the leaves wrapped around his knee. Unlike the lake of gore he was kneeling in, that blood was definitely real.
"Listen to me!" Denko shouted, struggling to be heard. "Listen!"
"Get out of the way, you damn cripple!" someone shouted back.
"Yeah, let 'em fight!"
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
"What for!?" Denko screamed. "Aisa hurts Shekka? Shekka hurts Aisa? They both hurt each other? Maybe so bad they can't walk anymore? What good does that do anyone? What does that accomplish? Absolutely nothing! It won't even get rid of their anger, the reason they want to fight in the first place! It will only make them even madder at each other! That's just... that's just stupid!"
"_You're_stupid!"
"You never interrupt a girl fight! Never!"
The fight chant was gradually disintegrating as more and more Wolves chose to attack Denko instead.
"How's the knee, buddy?"
"Call yourself an archer? How's it feel to be crippled by a she-wolf?"
"Get back in line and we might let you take some potshots at Nilia after we're done with her!"
Denko took a deep breath, shut his eyes tight and bellowed at the top of his lungs: "I don't want to shoot Nilia!"
That shut everyone up. The silence didn't last long, though. A Wolf nudged his friend in the ribs and whispered: "Hey, Nilia is the one who shot him, right? Or am I missing something?"
"No, I heard the same."
Torjo stepped forward and crossed his arms, looking down at Denko the same way he would have looked at a particularly nasty bug smeared across his footpad. A spider, perhaps. "So you and Dorin are of the same mind?"
"Yes."
"You don't want to fight?"
"No."
Denko's replies were quick and simple, which only seemed to annoy Torjo even further. "'Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, life for a life'. That is one of the oldest laws we have. It is not just a rule. It is sacred. It is not just a way to punish those who have done wrong, it is a way to prevent any wrongdoings from taking place in the future, by making an example of those who go against the tribe. The power of our law lies in its enforcement. If you do not enforce the law, if you do not take an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth and a life for a life, then suddenly that law becomes meaningless, just a set of words with no real power. Refusing to respect our law is, in itself, a violation of our law. Now, Denko, keeping that in mind, I want you to think very carefully about what you say next. I'm going to ask you a question, and your answer better not be a simple 'yes' or 'no'."
Denko gripped his cane tightly (Dorin could see the strain showing in his knuckles), but he did not waver or lower his gaze.
Torjo bent down a little, so they were face to face. "Denko, can you honestly say you feel no anger or resentment towards Nilia for what she did to you? And if you don't, do you really intend to break one of our most crucial laws? A law that has kept our society safe and functioning for generations?"
To everyone's surprise (including Dorin's), Denko scoffed. He actually scoffed. "Of course I'm angry I got shot in the knee!" He said it like Torjo was the biggest idiot in the world for even asking. "Have you ever been shot by an arrow? No? Well it hurts, Torjo! It hurts a lot! It still hurts! Every step I take, it hurts. Every time I sit down or get back up, it hurts. Sometimes it bleeds for no good reason and even now I can feel this Coradamned thing swelling up. I have to walk around with this damn cane every day." He gave it a quick swing through the air. "And you know what? After a while, that hurts, too! It digs into my hand and my back is always screaming by nightfall! So, to answer your question, yes, I am angry I got shot, and yes, when the pain gets bad I do feel resentment towards Nilia."
"Then what's the problem!?" Torjo yelled. "Why are you speaking like... like one of them!?"
"Because! As much as I hate Nilia for what she did to me... I feel even more gratitude for what she didn't do to me!"
Torjo frowned. "What didn't she do?"
Denko pushed down on his cane, rose up on the tips of his toes, and yelled in Torjo's face: "She didn't follow that stupid law!"
Torjo stumbled back, looking both disgusted and startled, as if the spider he had assumed to be dead had suddenly gnashed its fangs at him.
Denko wasn't speaking just to Torjo anymore, but to everyone. "If she had, she would have tried to kill us just as we tried to kill her, and she would have succeeded! According to the precious law of this tribe, I should be dead right now. And Dorin-Sai, and Seffer, Ivio, Thoka, Yanek, Vekka, all of us!"
"That's not how the law works and you know it!" Torjo rebuked. "And what about Hyker? He _did_die! Are you saying he doesn't deserve justice?"
"Your idea of 'justice' is going over there and killing a bunch of Wolves and Foxes. If they have the same law as we do, then they'll kill a bunch of us for 'justice', and it'll just go back and forth until everyone is dead!"
"Not if we kill all of them first!"
"Because then there'd be no danger, right? Everything will be right as rain because all those who are not 'us' will be dead, and that's a good thing, right?"
Torjo hesitated, perhaps sensing a trap. "Y-Yes. That is right."
"Funny you should put it that way, because I thought the exact same thing just before Sorrin cracked a branch over my head. As his shadow fell over me and he grunted like some beast, and I saw that branch come whistling down towards my face, I thought, 'This is it. This is my final waking moment. They'll stick a knife in my throat while I'm unconscious and that'll be the end of it. When I open my eyes again I'll see the Path spread out before me, and who knows where that will lead? To Hell? Maybe back to where I started? Is there even a difference?' It only took a single moment for Sorrin to swing that branch, and I thought all of it in that single moment! Do you know what it feels like, watching your death coming for you, wondering what will happen afterwards? Knowing that it's all about to end, and you spent your whole life, your whole life, being miserable!? That it's all been a waste!? I do! I know because I can compare the 'before' and the 'after' and I know the difference! I can feel the difference! And let me tell you, even with this damn knee, I'm not nearly as miserable as I was back when I didn't need this cane, back when I was just another Wolf slobbering after blood! Because every moment of our lives not spent in happiness is a moment wasted! And going over the mountain to slaughter a whole people in cold blood will be the greatest waste of all! It will only breed pain and misery... because inflicting something like that, when you know what it feels like, when you've gone through it yourself... it makes you feel it again, and again, and again... Only pain and misery... that's what all that blood gives birth to. Only pain and misery..."
Denko switched his cane to the other hand and wiped his nose. The crowd had quieted to mere whispers.
"When I opened my eyes again," he continued, "for a moment I thought I really was dead, and that the snowy path winding through the trees was The Path, and that it would lead me to where I would spend the rest of my afterlife. It was so cold, and I had such a headache, and blood kept dripping into my eyes, and my knee was still screaming, and I couldn't walk, and I knew that the only afterlife with pain was supposed to be Hell, and I was sure that that was where I was going, because I wasn't even walking but I was still moving somehow. I was more scared than I've ever been my whole life, so scared I couldn't even scream! But then I realised I wasn't dead. I had been spared. Nilia, Danado, and all the others you call 'traitors', the 'bad' ones, the 'evil' ones, the 'heathens', they showed me mercy when I was helpless, when, by all rights, they should have killed me. Even before I got the whole story, I understood it was because they had known for a long time what I had discovered only hours before. I was about to be killed. I knew it, I believed it, I understood it, and understanding that feeling is to know that you would never, ever want another living being to feel that way... not by your own hand or anyone else's."
Denko wiped his eyes and pointed a shaking finger Dorin's way. "That Wolf, right there," he said, his voice choked with tears. "Unlike me, he's been on both sides of the blade! He understands it better than any of us! The one kneeling in the snow, begging for all of you to listen! To just listen! Please!" Denko sank down to his own knees as well, despite the searing pain. "I beg of you! Just listen to him! Please, just listen to him!"
A slow whisper spread through the crowd. Wolves looked to each other, frowning in confusion. Up on the walkway, one of the drummers scratched his head.
Aisa suddenly sank down to her knees, too, her claws dragging furrows in the snow. "Please listen to him!" she pleaded, not looking up. "Please, just listen to him!"
Dorin didn't know what to say. These two Wolves were literally putting their lives on the line for what they believed in.
Just like the 'traitors'...
Torjo retreated back into the crowd, looking decidedly uncomfortable, as if he'd unexpectedly stumbled onto something obscene.
Wardo wasn't looking happy, either. The corners of his mouth were turned down, and his lips were trembling, just barely keeping the growls at bay. Quite clearly, he did not expect something like this to happen. And, truth be told, neither did Dorin.
It looks like neither of us knows everything there is to know about our fellow Wolves.
Maybe it was just his imagination, or a continuation of the hallucinations dreamed up by his tired mind, but the puddle of gore around his knees seemed to be getting smaller, just a little bit.
Maybe plan number 1 can still work. Maybe, if I speak from the heart, even they can understand.
Dorin took his hand, clean now, and placed it against his chest, right above his heart. He could feel it beating, the same heart he had nearly run through with a monster's knife. Was it right that his heart was still beating while Lana's was not? He still did not know for sure, and he probably never would, but the one thing he did know was that he was alive, and in his own way, in his new way, he was trying to accomplish what she could not, what she had tried to do and failed.
He was trying to save the tribe.
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