THUNDER CRACKLED and rain poured down over the battlefield. Soldiers gathered around and peered over a map through the rain, barely covered by a hastily erected tarp tent. At its center a richly dressed, almost ornately armored King of Lahlya directed stone figurines that represented forces upon the battlefield. Tasyri Lahl had a frown upon his face as he spoke and gestured here in the epicenter of Lahlya's encampment, placed upon the Western-most edge of their lands, near to the border of Xuana. He was focused, as Maahti knew he had to be among the grim faces of the forces of the Kingdom. This fight had gone on long enough.
The entrance to the Royal tent--a gaudy, decorated thing that Maahti had protested as far too clear a signal to any threat to her person, but was vetoed by her husband--slipped closed as Maahti stepped back and away, drawn once more inside by the sounds of her squalling son. The crib which housed the year old child was far more plain to the rich fabrics and jewelry that laid about like temptation. At its side stood Xoa, Maahti's oldest confidant, and in Xoa's arms rested her daughter--quiet only by the gentle rocking and soft humming to come from the xuana woman.
Thunder rolled above the tent, a flash beneath the edges, and water hammered down with sharp staccato as Maahti reached out to pick up her son from his crib and bounce him in her arms. She hummed a faint lullaby and said a soft, “Hush babe,” as she tried to calm the child. "It is only rain, mahtlea1. Nothing more." Some part of her must have registered as tense, because Xoa shuffled into her side and nudged her lightly, the lullaby hummed under Xoa's breath harmonizing with Maahti's. Maahti ducked her head and focused on Matasi in an attempt to hide from the querying gaze.
“You’ve seen something,” Xoa said, when Maahti kept her focus downward. In her arms Maahyri let out the smallest yawn and stretched her little limbs, prompting the faintest of smiles on the xuana woman's face. Maahti looked up in time to see it--to see the way Xoa softened at the little princess and felt the breath in her lungs still for a moment.
“What makes you say that?” Maahti asked breathlessly. Her daughter may be calmed in Xoa's arms, but Matasi refused to quiet his own fussing in Maahti's. There was a tightness as she tried to rock him, a stiffness to the voiceless lullaby she tried to use to lull him into restfulness.
“You’re tense,” Xoa replied. “He can sense it.” She nodded to the boy in Maahti's arms even as she settled Maahryi back into the crib, once more slumbering away. “It’s why he refuses to settle. He knows you are afraid.” Xoa turned and reached out her arms for Matasi. She waited for the Queen of Lahlya to hand the child over, patient.
“You are not wrong,” the Maahti murmured, and gently she gave her son into Xoa's arms. Xoa rocked Matasi gently, her motions smooth and her voice calming as she sang a voiceless lullaby. “I am tense.”
“You were not as subtle as you think, xiha laah2,” Xoa said. “You know you can trust me.” Sharp, ruby-red eyes glanced to Maahti from their corners, beneath the cowl of a hood and the shadows of a dark headwrap.
Maahti turned away from Xoa and began to pace the length of the tent, hands fisted into her skirts. She felt restless, near reckless with energy as she thought back to the dream she'd had for a fortnight now. The thunder snapped along the sky outside, the rain a raging pour that felt near energetic, near frantic upon her senses. Maahti sighed heavily. She said a short, “I know,” and stopped at the edge of the tents entrance.
In Xoa's arms the young prince finally began to calm, to settle back into slumber despite the noise and the tenseness of his mother. Xoa rocked him for a moment more as she tapered off her lullaby. Matasi yawned in her arms, finally quiet. Assured that the children would rest more peacefully now Xoa returned to the crib and placed the boy next to his twin. She let her fingers linger on their bright, golden-haired heads gently for a moment before she pulled back and turned to face Maahti, who watched at this eagle-eyed from beside the entrance to the tent.
“I would not expect good news,” Xoa told Maahti, voice even and tone calm. “You would not be so tense if it were good, and war does not beget good news besides. Out with it, xiha laah, or you’ll wake your daughter and son once more with your worrying.”
Maahti's spine straightened at the subtle barb and her eyes narrowed on Xoa. She stood tall, for a moment the Queen of Lahlya who liked not to be questioned. Then, with a shaky breath, Maahti slumped over once more with her hands fisted in her skirts and her gaze elsewhere. She thought of Tasyri outside; of the soldiers, the fighting, the losses of her people and the desecration of her lands. She thought of all the blood that had been spilled in the fields and the sharp taste in the air, almost electric. The way blood and shadows mixed in the distance, on the field of battle, and the way monsters rose in the wake of fallen soldiers all controlled by--sorcerers, Maahti thought the word was, but it was foreign on her tongue when she spoke it.
"They want something more than the--the Seed," Maahti stumbled for what she wanted to say. She fought back the urge to bite her lip. "That is not to say that they don't desire it, of course," she tried to hastily correct when Xoa shot her a look with pursed lips. "Of course they do. They aren't the first and I doubt they will be the last."
“Everyone wants that pretty bauble,” Xoa said derisively. “Your fool of a husband should have listened when I told him to keep quiet about it.” Maahti pressed her lips together and furrowed her brows at the statement and Xao leaned back frustrated look upon the young monarch. “Or do you disagree?”
Maahti shook her head. “No. We wouldn’t be in this predicament of Tasyri had listened,” she agreed, only slightly disgruntled, “but that is not what matters." Xoa arched her eyebrows and Maahti huffed. "I mean no of course it matters, the Seed has great power so yes it matters that they want it but--but its more than that, Xoa. It's--it's Matasi."
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“The boy?” Xoa asked, suddenly tense.
"Yes."
“Would they not be far more likely after your daughter? Considering your family line and the name she has been bestowed....” Xoa broached the subject with just the slightest bit of caution and surprise. She couldn't fathom what the sorcerers might consider special about Matasi aside from the fact that be was a boy in a long line of women. Still, Xoa found herself itching for one of her daggers, or better yet her naginata, in preparation for battle. Coupled with the way Maahti curled furhter in on herself, this was a sure sign that Xoa would not like this news whatever it may be.
“Xoa…” Maahti said slowly. “Xiha laah maathim3...your loyalty to my family has granted you and yours some privileged information,” Xoa narrowed her eyes; she could see the way Maahti began to close herself off, “however you do not know of all our secrets. They want my son, and I must not let them have him.”
“Why,” Xoa said carefully. “If I am to protect you…”
Maahti shook her head. She would refuse to say any more about it; it was not Xoa's burden to hold. Instead she stepped forward, crossed the length of the room and grabbed Xoa's hands from where they twisted in front of her. Maahti entwined their fingers and mumured, "Please, Xoa. Let me not spoil the good we have done with the darkness you do not yet know."
“Xuana exist in darkness,” Xoa reminded Maahti softly. She squeezed the Queen's hands tight, reassuring, “but I will do as you ask and question this no further.” Maahti breathed a sigh of relief even as Xoa disentangled herself from her grasp and took a carefuly step to the side. “What are you planning then?”
“I must keep him safe,” Maahti said, voice firm. "If it means I must leave then--then I must leave."
“When?”
Maahti brushed past Xoa and over to the crib. She placed one hand on the wood and peered down at her twins. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and thought--when? Xoa was right--when? If not now then what time--when the sorcerers reached their doorstep? When the darkness swallowed all of Lahlya? When Tasyri inevitably lay bloodied on the battlefield, bleeding out--dying?
"Tonight," Maahti said eventually, throat tight. "It must be tonight." It was the only way--the only way....Xoa stepped up beside her, and then half-behind her as she reached around and carefully placed her hands over Maahti's. Maahti could feel her lean against her back, feel the way she pressed her forehead against Maahti's shoulder. She could feel the strength of Xoa behind her, supporting her, and then Xoa stepped away. Maahti turned, eyes bright, and reached back for her oldest friend.
Xoa let her touch, let her fingers brush the pale skin that was normally covered by more cloth. One of her calloused hands came up and gripped Maahti's fingers, then carefully lowered them from the edge of her cheek. She didn't let go, even as she began to speak.
“I’ll keep watch over Maahyri,” Xoa said. “I swear this.” She raised Maahti's hand back up toward her face for a second, enough that Maahti could feel the touch of her breath on the edge of her fingers with her next words. “You must promise me that you will return, Maahti-laah4.”
Throat tight, Maahti acquiesced, “One day, when Matasi is strong enough, I will return.” They stared at one another, silent and daring--and then Maahti gently pulled her fingers from Xoa's grasp and turned to face her children. The distance settled between them once more; a firm reminder that Xoa was her oldest friend, and Maahti a queen by birthright.
“You will take my horse,” Xoa said, firm and business-like, “you will dress as a peasant. They will not hunt a peasant as they would a queen. You will be armed. Take my daggers and some of the Xuana powders, it should help cover your escape if need be.” She moved over to the portion of the tent that had been set aside with her tools and trade crafts, the only portion of the tent not littered with little baubles of jewelry and wealth. Maahti watched her children while Xoa prepared a pack, gaze soft. “You will leave as soon as it goes dark, and do not stop riding. Ride far and fast and only when you are out of danger rest, but not for long for danger will follow you. Head for the forest, not Xhiua.”
Maahti snapped her head to face Xoa, eyes wide and the sharp remark, “But Xhiua, Xoa, it’s—”
“Do not enter the forest,” Xoa continued sharply, “but follow the tree line north-east towards the desert. Before you reach the cliffs you will find an encampment just within the forests edge. Tell them that I sent you.” Xoa paused, then added softer, “Xhiua is not safe enough. Those at the forests edge will be safe enough. I trust no other more.”
“You don’t have to do this.” Maahti pursed her lips and stepped away from the crib.
“I’ll pack some clothing for the boy,” Xoa pushed onward, “as well as some provisions. You ride hard and you ride fast, my Queen. Do not stop.” She waited for Maahti to nod before she gestured to the peasants clothes now laid out and ready. “Get changed. I’ll prepare the horse.”
It took barely any time to gather supplies and change clothes. Outside the storm raged on, louder and more violent, as if the Sisters were infuriated. It made Maahti nervous, which in turn made Xoa's horse nervous. Maahti had never seen the dark steed nervous before and the way he whined and jerked against the reigns only increased the electrified feel along the edge of Maahti's arms. Xoa tried to soothe him; he did settle eventually although he still tossed his head and huffed and acted rather recalcitrant.
Xoa helped Maahti get up onto the horse, ensured that the bags were attached and that the horse would listen to her commands. She then made sure Matasi was strapped tight to Maahti's chest, secure enough for the ride. Maahti stared down at her once Xoa stepped back, reigns in hand. The face covering was back upon the lower half of Xoa's face, out in the rain, and all Maahti could see were the bright red of her eyes within pools of shadow. She swallowed heavily.
“Xoa…”
Xoa looked up, “Ride safe."
For a moment Maahti looked like she would say something more, then she closed her eyes, turned herself to face forward, and lightly kicked the horse with her heels. In silence she took off into the the darkening sky--storm at her heels, thunder in her ears, and rain upon her skin. She didn't once look back.
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1 mahtlea lit. child-male or "son"
2 xiha laah lit. heart-emotion loved one or "beloved of my heart" ; ʃiʌ meaning heart-emotion / relation / non-physical and ɬɑ meaning dear / beloved / loved one
3 Xiha laah maathim lit. heart-emotion most loved one or "most beloved of my heart" ; mɑ:tçim is a particle used to indicate more of something and in this case modifies ɬɑ to become something akin to "dearest" or "most beloved" or "most loved one"
4 Maahti-laah lit. Beloved Maahti ; used with someone you are particularly close to often in a romantic sense