Ander - Part 3: Subchapter 14
14
"And now we come to the issue at hand," Father said. "I told you this terrible tale at great cost to myself because I fear you might not live through this night, and I don't want you to leave this world without knowing the whole truth. But I know my reasons for telling, and your reasons for listening, are quite different."
"Different? What do you mean, Father?"
"You intend to bind me with my own words, do you not? Just as Wardo bound me with my own actions, you seek to bind me with the truth."
"What are you talking about?"
"I loved Sarah. No, I still do. Maybe more than Shekka, even after all these years. I'm ashamed to admit that, but it's the way I feel inside. I think you're the only one who can understand, Ander."
He did understand. It was just like Sarah had said: I need to say it. For you, and for myself, it needs to come out, because I can't carry this burden any longer.
His father needed to tell this story. He needed an ear that could understand just as badly as Ander needed the truth. It was the only way for them to feel whole. So what was all this foolishness about 'binding' all of a sudden?
"Father, I am here for many reasons, but blackmailing you isn't one of them. I wanted to learn the truth of my past, and you gave me the final pieces I needed. I wanted to stand trial and defend my honour. But, most of all, I wanted to protect the ones I love." Ander stood up, his legs slightly tingly after sitting still for so long, and he looked down at his father. "I won't ask you to spare me my trial, or to overrule the judgement of the whole tribe. Such favouritism would only get you into trouble as well."
"Then what do you want, Ander!?" Father asked and pounded his fist against the ground. He stood up, grabbed his son by the shoulders and shouted, "What in the Cora's name do you want from me!?"
Ander raised his arms and placed his hands on his father's shoulders, so that they looked like a mirror image of each other. "With me here, there's no reason for you to send any Wolves into Grovenglen."
"Wait, are you...?"
"That's all I ask, Father. Please, don't misunderstand me. I don't want to play the martyr. I don't want to die. But... if I do, then... then I want at least some good to come out of it."
"Ander, you..."
"I want the Foxes to be left alone. That's all I ask. That's all I want. That's all I need. If you can promise me you won't let anything happen to them, then I can go out there and face whatever fate awaits me without fear."
"You stupid, stupid boy..." Father said, his voice wavering, his shoulders shaking, his grip tightening, his eyes tearing. "You did not need to ask me that. We both have ties on the other side of the Cora."
"Please promise me, Father. I need to hear it."
"You have my word, Ander. As long as I am Chieftain, no harm will come to the Foxes of Grovenglen."
It felt like an iron fist suddenly disappeared from around Ander's heart, and he could finally breathe easy again. For the first time since he saw that scout prowling around the edges of Grovenglen, he felt like things might work out in the end. Despite the trials that still lay ahead, he felt at peace. Whatever will happen, will happen, but Kiana will be safe. That was enough for him. That was more than enough.
"You know, Father. Ever since I heard Sarah's story, I believed everything that made me so different sprung from my Fox half, but now I know that's not entirely true."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't take after Sarah, Father. I take after you." Before he could resist, Ander pulled him in close and embraced his father, truly embraced him for the first time, something he never had any desire to do before tonight.
He went rigid at first, but soon loosened up. "I must be going soft in my old age," he said and gave Ander a hard double clap on the back. "I don't know what will happen out there tonight, but I'll do the best I can. Sarah may have been unconscious at the time, but I promised to look after you. I know I haven't been the best father, far from it, but I'll use every ounce of my influence, Ander, you can count on that."
"Thank you, Father. Thank you."
"Now, let's get out there before they get
*
too impatient."
It was the voice of her mate, and yet it was the voice of a complete stranger.
"I'm ready."
And that was the voice of her son, yet it was the voice of a Wolf who was _not_her son.
Shekka's vision was even worse than everyone believed it to be. All that was left was a small, hazy circle in the middle of a black ocean, barely enough to keep her from bumping into the blurry shapes that kept coming and going. Right now that spot was a uniform tan colour, because that was the colour of the back of Kadai's tent. Their tent, the tent in which they had shared all their hopes and dreams, the tent in which they had declared their love, the tent in which she has given birth three times, the tent he and her 'son' had entered almost a full hour ago to have their little chat.
Sneaking back here was child's play, because going unseen was far too easy when your people refused to see you. How many times has she walked down the paths, passing Wolves who refused to look at her, who pretended to not be there and, even worse, pretended like she wasn't there? All the while thinking to themselves how clever they were to avoid her.
They were even blinder than she was. How ironic.
But she didn't need her useless eyes, oh no. Not for this. Her ears were the sharpest of any Wolf in the tribe. Even now she could hear the whispers coming from the center of the village, underneath the beating of the drums and the roaring of the fires.
"They've been in there an awful long time. I wonder what they're talking about?"
"Yeah, too long, if you ask me! If they don't come out soon, I have half a mind to barge in there and drag the treacherous son of a bitch out here myself!"
"Good luck getting past Garten. He'll skin you alive."
"To hell with Garten! Banno was the best of us all, and that bastard killed him in cold blood!"
"Calm yourself, Del. He may have done wrong, but that's still the Chieftain's son in there. Give them a moment, for pity's sake."
And underneath the hurried whispers were the sounds of crickets, and the hollow tapping of the skulls hanging from the gates, nodding in the breeze. Behind her stood the jagged wall of her tribe, and beyond that, deep in the woods, a lonely owl swooped through the air and a mouse screeched its last.
She could hear all these things, so how easy was it for her to hear their secret whispers when all that separated them was a few layers of animal hides?
Nothing escaped her ears. Not a single, traitorous word.
"Oh! They're coming out!"
"Finally!"
The words rose and crashed into each other, fusing into a mindless jumble of excitement and anger.
She turned away from it all, leaned her head against the rough, splintery posts that formed the wall, no more than a splotch of brown and a few vertical shadows to her eyes, and took long, shuddering breaths.
She couldn't go out there like this. She needed to calm down, but her heart was racing in her chest and the blood was boiling in her veins. Even the edge of her vision was taking on a reddish hue.
She dedicated almost thirty years of her life to him, and for what!? All this time, he's been pining after some filthy Fox whore! A Fox he loves more than his own mate, who nearly killed herself three times over to bring three beautiful children into this world! Banno, Hezzi, and the daughter she never even knew she had. How dare he keep something like that from her? How dare he play with her life like that!? They called her eldest son a monster, but that's not true. She knew that boy better than anyone. If he was moved to end the lives of that Kiana girl and his false brother, then surely that was the will of the Cora! Kadai was the true monster! Him and that half-breed freak she nurtured with the milk of her breast and the sweat of her brow! Pouring her own life into him to make him strong just as she did for her true sons! She knew there was something off about that creature since the day he was old enough to walk and talk. Something... different. That's why she allowed Kadai to give him that strange name. It just fit somehow, and now she knew why. It fit him because he wasn't a real Wolf and he wasn't her real son! Nothing about him was real! It was just as Banno had said in his final hour. His blood is a lie. His life is a lie.
They like to talk about the truth? Banno knew more about truth than either of them! And now he lay dead at the hands of a lie. A filthy lie that never should have been allowed to spawn from its mother's putrid womb!
Sarah. The name alone was enough to make her bare her teeth. If that wench were to appear before her right now, Shekka wouldn't hesitate to rip her throat out and spit in her dying eyes.
"Chieftain, are you ready to begin?"
That was Garten's voice. She would have to move soon, before they noticed she was gone. But first she had to get this rage under control...
"Yes."
"And what about you, Ander?"
"I'm ready. Let's get this over with."
"Very well then. Nilia, get the bindings."
She wanted to dig her nails into the wood and rip out entire chunks in her fury, but her hands were still wet and sticky from the war paint, and she knew better than to leave any traces of her presence. The Cora has blessed her with a keen mind, and she'd never disrespect His gift by acting in such a foolish manner, so she took one last calming breath, and stealthily crept back the way she came, moving behind the rows of tents, counting each one to keep track of her progress. After putting sufficient distance between herself and Kadai's tent, she waited for just the right moment and slipped in behind a group of Wolves pushing and shoving at each other to get a good look at the infamous betrayer. They didn't even realize she was among them until she started to work her way through. It was a process she has experienced countless times before. She would place a hand on the shoulders of those in front of her, and then she would feel them twist around. After that, she would always feel them jerk away, and she'd be left holding nothing but empty air. Sometimes there would be hasty apologies and forced politeness (Oh, please forgive me, Kai! I didn't see you there!), but mostly there would only be a frightful silence, save for the hurried footsteps of those backing away from her.
She didn't mind. They were right to fear her, after all.
She made for the hazy beacon of the fires, an orange glow occasionally broken by the shadows of dancing Wolves. From there, she would make her way to the Cora's statue, for it would be there, at His feet, that her false son would pay for his crime, and he would pay dearly.
She would see to it herself.
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