Ander - Part 6: Subchapter 8
8
She was so convinced that everything would fall apart that she didn't immediately understand the question. She was so entrenched in the certainty that she would only end up killing everyone she loved that even the thinnest glimmer of hope seemed more cruel than beautiful.
Her necklace swung back and forth...
"Miss Nilia?"
...back and forth.
Be strong, my enka. Please, please be strong for me...
Nilia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and did what had to be done. She took her feelings and she pushed them deep down, where they couldn't hurt anyone, where they couldn't kill.
There was work to be done, and she needed to be strong to do it.
Just like she promised.
She opened her eyes. "Do you have a map of the area?"
"Er... just a second..." Amos started to fumble through all his papers again, peering at them, discarding them, shuffling them into haphazard piles. "I know we have one somewhere around here..." He ducked beneath the table and rummaged some more. "Aha!" He came out with a long roll of bound parchment, yellowed at the edges. "This one is a bit old," he said, carefully untying the string that held it in place, "but still serviceable. Here." It unfurled, revealing one of the biggest maps Nilia had ever seen. She was used to vague little representations drawn in the dirt with sticks, but this was something else.
The lines had an odd, bitter scent, but they stood out against the white background, making them easy to read. There were hundreds of tiny illegible symbols scribbled all over the place, filling up the margins, curving along the rivers, floating above the forests in bubbles of white, but that wasn't what caught Nilia's attention. There was a thick black line on the western side, obviously representing the mountain, and from that she could get a good idea of the scale of this place, and it wasn't good.
Her heart sank as she studied the map, her eyes gliding from one side to the other and back again.
"These squares," she said, tapping the map with her finger. "Do they represent Fox homes? Like the ones outside?"
"Yes. It's not completely accurate down to every last house, of course, but the main buildings are all there. The big one is the town hall, where we are."
This was bad. There were hundreds upon hundreds of those little squares. Most of them were clustered fairly close together, but then spread out the farther you moved away from the centre. It wasn't like tribe life, where all the tents were so close they almost touched. And the worst part...
There were no walls. Everything was open, completely exposed. She had thought it weird when they first came in and couldn't see any sentries or guard towers, but she had assumed they must be deeper in, protecting the more important areas, but judging by this map, there simply were none. Not only was this place large and spread out, it was completely defenceless. A ripe invitation for disaster.
Nilia traced a small circle around the tightest cluster of buildings. "Every Fox outside this area will have to abandon their homes and move to the centre."
"That is absurd!" Bileam said. "You can't expect everyone to just pack up and leave! You're talking about moving at least a thousand Foxes into an area the size of a few cornfields! An area that's already inhabited, I might add!"
"The bigger an area is, the harder it is to defend. I wouldn't expect a Fox with such dainty hands and well-kept nails like you to understand."
"Of all the nerve! I should -"
"Let her speak, Bileam," Ruth said. "We can decide on a course of action after everyone's had a say."
"Tch!" Bileam clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, but remained silent. Perhaps Nilia was wrong to jump to the conclusion that Ruth was such a bitch.
"There is another reason I want to shrink down the area," she continued, "and that's to minimize the amount of time needed to build a wall."
"A wall? What kind of wall?"
"It needs to be tall enough to keep any Wolves from climbing over, and strong enough to withstand any blow. We'll need lots of water on hand in case they try to burn it down, and a walkway for the archers to shoot from. I assume there must be at least some Foxes in this massive tribe capable of firing a bow?"
"I can shoot a bow."
Nilia looked up, not at all surprised to see the tired-looking Fox, the one Bileam had called 'Jackass'. He had climbed on top of a bench so that his upper body was standing out from the crowd. "I still have a grudge against all those Wolves who tried to burn Kiana, and now you're telling me they come to destroy our homes and murder our people? For what? Because some crazy Chief thinks it's a game? To hell with that! If there's going to be a fight, let them come! I've got a bolt for each of them! And if those run out, I'll use arrows! And if they run out, I'll use an axe! If those palookas think they can walk all over us just because they're a little bit bigger, then they've got another thing coming! Am I right!?"
The others didn't exactly share his enthusiasm. They glanced at each other uncomfortably, not saying anything, but Nilia couldn't help but be amused. Here was a Fox who actually showed a bit of backbone, an eagerness for battle his peers so sorely lacked. Yes, he seemed tired and downtrodden, bent-backed and dirty, just another runty Fox with a big mouth, but there was something in his eyes, an alertness the others didn't have. It was as if he expected the attack to come at any minute, and he refused to be taken by surprise. For that, if nothing else, he deserved a nice pat on the back.
But, then again, maybe a stone cold dash of truth would serve him better.
Nilia smiled. "You'd best pray to your god it won't come to axes, Fox, because I can tell you right now that if it does, you'll be the first to die."
"Says you! I may prefer the crossbow, but I know how to swing a sword."
"Oh really?" Nilia grabbed the hammer (the arrow was still sticking out of the head like a bizarre accessory). It was small, but carved out of one solid piece, and the handle was thick and strong. It would do quite nicely. She grasped it with both hands and slowly increased the pressure, turning her wrists, bending the wood until it started to splinter and crack. Then, suddenly, the whole thing snapped with a surprisingly loud bang that reverberated throughout the hall, making the first row of Foxes jump in their seats.
"Oh come on!" Bileam said. "That gavel's been used by the Elders for three generations! You can't just -"
Ruth gave him a hard jab with her elbow and told him to shut up, which Nilia greatly appreciated. She held the broken handle up for everyone to see. "There are more than a thousand Wolves beyond the mountain," she said, taking advantage of the silence while it lasted. "Some of them are faster than I am. Many of them are stronger than I am. Most of them are bigger than I am. But _all of them_are more savage than I am, more ruthless, more coldblooded. They would not hesitate to do the same to each of you what I just did to this hammer." She pried the arrow loose and tossed it to Sorrin, who caught it neatly.
"Show them what you can do."
Sorrin regarded the piece of metal in his hands, then looked at all the frightened faces, their wide eyes staring. "Is this really necessary? I think you've scared them enough, Nilia."
"Just do it. They need to understand."
Sorrin sighed. His right arm was still giving him trouble, so he switched the arrow over to his left. He held it up for everyone to see and started to squeeze, slowly forcing his thumb towards the gap between his second and third fingers on the other side. A moment later the whole thing started to bend. Although less flashy, Sorrin's demonstration of brute strength was even more impactful than Nilia's. Foxes whispered to each other and pointed at the arrow (once straight, now curved like the lath that had fired it), the salty smell of fear seeping from their skin slowly growing more intense. Nilia knew she was playing a dangerous game. Fear could cripple a fighter just as surely as any poison, but it could also serve as motivation. Previously, their fear had motivated them to flee, but now that they no longer had such a choice, their best bet was to agree with her strategy. Perhaps she was being emotionally manipulative, but if they were going to get through this, they needed to be strong, and to be strong, they needed to overcome their fear, and they could not overcome their fear if they were ignorant of it. They would thank her once this was all over and they were still alive.
Hopefully.
"I'm willing to bet that hunk of metal was stronger than your neck. Wouldn't you agree, Fox?"
Mateo looked at the broken hammer, then the bent arrow, and then his eyes came to rest on Nilia's. "What was that you were saying about a wall?"
A surprisingly quick learner, that one. Now to drive the point home to the rest of them. With a bit of skill and a whole lot of luck, maybe, just maybe, they could make it through this endless winter alive. "There is no way any of you can defeat a Wolf in one on one combat, no matter how good you think your weapons are. But any fight, even a largescale battle, is always about pitting strengths and weaknesses against strengths and weaknesses. You have the numbers, but my people have brute power. You need to find a way to maximize your own strength while minimizing your enemy's. You need to strike at their weaknesses while protecting your own. That is why you need a good, strong wall. A Wolf's muscle is useless if he can't get his claws on you, and while a single arrow can be deadly, a thousand flying through the air can be catastrophic. My people have archers, too, but it is considered a role for the smaller, weaker Wolves, which is why very few ever take up the bow. I trained with them myself for years, and I know that the number of decent Wolf archers might be as little as one in ten. If the wall holds, you'll be able to strike at your foes without them being able to fight back effectively. But for this plan to work, you need the wall, you need the archers, and you need -"
"The will to kill," Ander finished for her. He was standing by the window, looking out at the homes, all lined up along the snow-covered paths. "Isn't that right, Nilia?"
Nilia sighed. She knew this would come up sooner or later. "Look, Ander. I understand how you feel. You might not think I do, but it's the truth. Even after everything they did to me, I feel like a betrayer, planning to raise my hand against my own people. Maybe I feel it even worse than you do. I was never fully accepted, but I had a place there. I had a life there. I belonged there. But I turned my back on all of it. I chose to follow in your footsteps, and for that my own people sought my death, just like they sought yours. I know how it feels, the unfairness of it all. It eats you up from the inside, until all you can feel is hatred for the ones responsible. I could have struck back. I could have killed so many of them, Ander, but I held back because of you. I saw the way you suffered, and it frightened me, because it reminded me of how I suffered when I -"
Push it down, Nilia! Push it deep, deep down and don't think on it! Don't think on it!
" - I... didn't ever want to go through something like that again, and I never wanted you to look at me the way you looked at them. I know you put everything on the line to leave it all behind, but things are different now. There's nowhere left to run. They come to spill our blood, and that means that any blood that touches the earth of this valley, whether it be from the veins of Fox or Wolf, will be _their_sin, not ours. Do you understand?"
Ander did not speak right away. He rested his forehead against the window and looked outside, his breath slowly fogging up the transparent material. Then, softly: "It's not right. None of this is right."
What am I doing? Nilia thought. Why am I pushing him like this? Why am I trying to force him into becoming something he's not?
Because he'll die if you don't. You know what you need to do. It's what you always do.
You need to be strong.
Please... please don't hate me for saying this...
Nilia took a deep breath and shouted something that made her feel a terrible shame, a deep shame she hadn't felt since the day she stood in the rain, crying for her sinful weakness, the day she had given herself the name of Nilia.
She went straight for his heart.
"Your brother is here, Ander!" she screamed, absolutely hating herself for it. "Are you just going to stand by and watch while they tear him apart, like he had to watch you!? Think about what that means! He threw his old life away just like you did, and now, if you can't find the courage to fight, he'll suffer the same way you did. I don't know about you, but I'd die before I let that happen. I'd kill. So if you can't bloody your hands to protect him, then I will."
"I know that!" Ander spun around, his voice amplified to shouting levels by the echo. "You think I didn't feel anything, sitting in the sunshine outside my new home, watching that blasted mountain every day!? Not an hour went by I didn't think of my family, of everyone I left behind! Every scrap of happiness I found here was tainted by that knowledge! Every moment of warmth was laced with guilt! I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't even hold those I loved without wondering if Hezzi was okay! I've got an unfinished carving back on that hill because I couldn't imagine his smile anymore! I'm his big brother, it's my job to protect him, and yet I left him to rot in that hellhole he still thought of as 'home'! And now that he's here, with me, and I can touch him, and know that he's safe and happy... I won't let anyone or anything take that away from me again. But..." He banged his fist against the stonework, and Nilia was amazed at how much the sound of flesh striking stone resembled the dull thud of a beating heart. "... Killing to prevent killing... Murdering to save lives... It shouldn't have to be this way, Nilia. It just... it shouldn't have to be this way..."
"It shouldn't, but it is," Nilia said. "Sometimes... it's the only way. The snow starts out clean, but sooner or later it always gets covered in blood. It's either kill or be killed."
"The only way... The only way..." Ander seemed to be in actual, physical agony, even worse than the torture he had gone through on the night of his trial. She could see it in his face, just as real as the bear claw hanging around her neck. He was in pain, and she was the one that had hurt him.
Just like you always do.
It's not my fault.
Yes, it is. Everything is your fault. Everything has always been your fault. Everyone you love is doomed to feel nothing but pain, because your love is poison. Your tears are poison. Every feeling you've ever had, every emotion you've ever felt, all of it is poison.
It... it's not my fault... I was just a little girl!
Murderer!
I didn't even have a name yet!
MURDERER!!
Ander punched the window with a thunderous crash, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The shards flashed in the sunlight, reflecting all the colours of the rainbow as they cascaded down the stonework like a river of serpents' scales, all covered in blood.
"By the gods, can you Wolves not go anywhere without breaking something!?" Bileam screamed, but everyone else was too stunned to make a sound, Nilia included. She couldn't stop staring at his hand, at the way those transparent triangles had pierced his knuckles, giving him a whole new set of jagged, dripping claws.
"This is what it always comes down to, isn't it, Nilia?" he said, staring at his hand in a detached way that made her skin crawl. "More blood. Always, _always_more blood..."
"A- Ander, I..."
He approached the table, his feet crunching through the glinting fragments, blood dribbling from his hand, flowing down his fingers, dripping onto the floor.
Nilia took a step back, terrified, not of Ander, but of her own actions, of what she had done to him, of what she had unleashed in him.
Poison...
She knew it was too late to do anything about it now, but she had to try. "I'm sorry I said those things, Ander, but -"
You're always sorry, but 'sorry' is just a word. It can't stop the flies. Nothing can stop the flies. You were sorry, and you cried, and the flies drank your tears right up, didn't they?
"- you have to understand, there is no other way. Killing our own is a terrible sin, but I would gladly damn my soul to hell if it meant I could spare those I love from those who only know how to hate. And yes, I love you, Ander. I love you, and I love Hezzi, and Sorrin, and Mellah, and little Renna, and Danado. I love all of you. You were like a family to me when I had long given up the hope of ever feeling something like that again. Is that not worth fighting for? Is that not worth bleeding for? Is that not worth dying for?" She reached up and cradled her mother's bear claw in her hand, watching the way the sunlight played off its ebony surface - a pale half-shine, lifeless. "Ander... Is that not worth killing for?"
Ander raised his dripping hand. For a moment, Nilia thought he intended to touch her necklace, but instead he turned towards the table and scratched something onto the map with his finger.
"Ander?"
He looked up, and the bear claw slipped free of Nilia's fingers. It caught on its string and swung back and forth, finally coming to rest against her heart. The look on his face... she had seen it only once, on the night he was Thrown to the Wolves, the moment just before he plunged a dagger between Garten's crazy, bloodshot eyes - a look of intense pain and sorrow.
And unbearable remorse.
"No other way," he said simply and started off down the aisle. Foxes parted to make room, and he politely squeezed his way through to the big double doors, leaving spots of blood in his wake. No one said anything, not even after he had gone outside and disappeared from view.
Part of her wanted to go after him, but there was another part, far more powerful, chaining her in place, screaming at her to stay right where she was.
You told him you loved him. Look what happened.
This has nothing to do with that.
The others, too. It's only a matter of time before your love hurts them, too. They've already suffered so much. All you can do is make it worse.
I don't want to hurt anyone...
Then push it down. Push it deep down. Anything else is pure weakness. If you truly want to help them, be strong. That is all you can do for them. They don't need your love. They need your strength.
The brown vixen stood up and hurried towards the doors, nearly tripping over her garb at every step, excusing herself every time she bumped into someone, and Nilia wondered, not for the first or last time, who she really was.
She is a stranger, but she will be closer to him than I can ever be.
That's just the way it has to be. Remember your promise. Remember your name.
On the map, halfway down the black line that zigzagged across the western side, a crimson cross was smeared.
Ander had marked the Cora's Pass in blood, a wall far greater than any ever constructed by hands of flesh. It was there that they would make their stand. It was there that the snow would go from white to red.
It was there that they would learn if all their sacrifices truly were worth dying for.
And worth killing for.
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