ACT 2
'Blessed Comes The Falcon'
Red Rocks; Maohk’ohkatoki
Kapesiwin, Province of the Horn
Confederated Territories of Awasin
There were claims that Red Rocks had been the center of Awasi culture on the plains for millennia before the capital had moved. Most were easily disprovable, but a kernel of truth remained— the circle of mismatched and ochre-tinted crimson stones that stretched like daggers or the fingers of a buried god towards the wheeling sky carried the weight of an epoch of culture, painted handprints and horse carvings whose inhabitants barely shared blood with those today resting just out of reach above. Scattered around were patches of sage, wild lavender, sweetgrass; hemmed in between boulders that sat as if dropped from heaven. The individuals who sat gathered between these stones would have torn each other to pieces a century ago if the thought of what they undertook in the present had crossed their minds as a distant fantasy. Yet in some way every clan was represented here, small though the group was; there were nine attendees (some accompanied by their bodyguards) all in all, every one of them devoted wholly to the matter at hand. Somewhere in the distance was the chirping of crickets.
“You cannot seriously think that I would abandon this entire proposal? Being here right now as I am?” intoned Iksana Running Wolf, dulcet voice tinged with a layer of annoyance. A free hand clutched her single braid, white-knuckled with anger or perhaps just annoyance. She wore clothes marked very clearly with the sigil of the Wolf, regal aura present even though she lacked the bone-rings or small diadem traditionally worn by princesses of her stature. Even as plain as she was, a commanding presence was obvious, though the effect was bolstered by the towering Lord Protector Octavian Volusenna who stood behind her half-shrouded by shadow in firelight. His hand on her shoulder suggested much to those gathered around, though not a single one dared to question it further. It reassured Iksana almost as much as the rifle strapped across his chest.
“Your brothers have already. It’s not a wild conclusion to suggest you would too,
my lady,” said Deer representative Mati Double Rider, voice thick with sarcasm. He was a thin little man barely out of boyhood, gangly arms and legs in a father’s coat that fit him poorly. None of the men of the Deer seemed to have a penchant for cleanliness— something that the elders of some tribes traced back to the early days, when they were forced to cavort in ditches. Iksana thought that a shower would have done him good. He smiled much like an adder would, devilishly, and with a good deal of the same venom. Most of the others could barely stand to look at him presently. “Some of them, I believe, seemed quite enthusiastic—“
“But not all,” Jasem Achakzai said roughly. His proper name was Hassun Coldweather, recent recipient of his mother’s seat at national gatherings, but he had spent a good portion of his life between Charnea and Kembesa with the people of his father and few knew him by an Awasi name. He was built like a mountain, over six feet tall with broad shoulders and massive biceps, and sported a thick albeit short and well-maintained beard. The symbol of the Hawk on his belt buckle was all that suggested he was more than a rider in beaten chaps. His wife, Zahra, was a pretty-looking hawk-nosed Fahrani thing who sat on the side of his heavy chair with an arm around her husband and ferocity in her gaze. “The lady heir has many brothers. I’m bound to her just the same,” he continued, with a nod to Iksana, “even if we share little in the way of blood, and I’m certainly not about to turn my back on her and her wishes. Oh, don’t give me that look, Double Rider. Some of us have stronger loyalties than simply to whomever pays our salary.”
“You’ve got quite a tongue for someone who’s spent his whole life being a foreign pet,” Mati intoned with a hiss.
Jasem’s glare was strong enough to crack rock. “It’d be a lie to say I’ve spent my life here, that much is certain. But these days it seems I love this country and its leadership more than you.”
“You dare to suggest that I’m some sort of traitor? You, the one who might as well be Scipian now for all the attachment you’ve got?”
“I merely suggest that you seem to have a… how should I put it? Remarkable lack of faith in the woman who seems to be the only one with foresight enough to plan for our eventualities.”
“I plan quite well enough!” Mati spat.
“Boys!” Iksana yelled, and clicked her tongue like a disapproving mother. She had never had patience for idiocy. “We come all the way out here and fight like we’re children? I’ve had better interactions with my sister Sinoa, and she’s a true pain in my neck. Please. I don’t wish for our problems to be exacerbated by our own divisions, lest we be unable to fix them. Until I succeed my mother, I can’t offer any of us true catharsis, but at the very least I’m still a stronger ally now for furthering the collective goal than I was able to be previously.” She shrugged as if to dismiss the previous subject, much to Mati’s chagrin across the table, and looked to her immediate right. “Nadie, you’ve been silent. How goes the battle?”
Nadie Whitehorse was all of thirteen, a meek little girl of the Bear clan with freckled cheeks and red ribbons in her hair. She had come with Iksana, but received her own seat at the table, important as she was. Short for her age, admittedly, but Whitehorse women were not known for their height. She did not meet the eyes of anyone else in the assembly, but spoke clearly nevertheless. “Ahanu… Ahanu could probably see it,” she said, speaking of her brother, “Cousin Byar does too, but he’s worried about his chances of reelection; I think he just needs some time. Time, yeah. If we’re going to commit to democ— demo— uh, democr—“
“Democratization,” Zahra finished. Her kohl-lined eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Thanks,” Nadie said, accompanied by an embarrassed smile. Words had always been as empowering as they were troubling for her overeager tongue. At least a stutter could be trained out. “If we’re going to commit to democratization, it’ll have to start with everyone who has power already. We can’t force it.” Done with her comments, she slumped back down in her chair.
Iksana noticed the way Nadie’s feet dangled over the ground and made a mental note to buy the girl some heeled boots for the next meeting, should they have one before a coronation. Far too young to keep such company, and forced to grow up far too early; but such was the state of the world, she mused to herself, and nodded. “Thank you, Nadie. You’ll surpass this lot yet with insights like that— not that you need to grow up any faster, of course. You’ll always be a baby to some of us!” There was general laughter as Nadie buried her face in her hands. Octavian reached around and ruffled her hair good-naturedly. “All joking aside,” Iksana went on, “it’s good to hear that your cousin’s amicable; that’s Sihkomtatsi accounted for. Mati’s mother holds the Northwater, Jasem takes the Horn here, and I handle Crowsnest. If my math is right, with no guarantees, that leaves Whistler and Sipiista. The latter should fall to the Spotted Buffalo twins, I believe, though they could not be with us tonight.”
The remaining few members— mostly coastal politicians with an eye for change— seemed to take the news with a good deal of understanding. Mati opened his mouth as if to berate the twins’ absence, but a glare from Jasem shut him down conclusively. The man was truly frightening when he needed to be. Absentmindedly, Iksana shook her head. For someone who held a considerable deal of sway with his family and clan as a whole, Mati had little tact, though she was sure she could beat it into him with a little more time and effort; at the very least he could be more than a snivelling twit. “If they manage to turn the tide the next time they hold seats, we should see popular support in Sipiista. Whistler being the last holdout could prove to be more difficult, Creator knows they’re a bunch of neo-traditionalists, but the pressure should be enough at that point they’d capitulate. Then it’s no problem at all for a unanimous decision. Worse comes to worse, we do things ourselves.”
“I know that I’m in too deep,” Jasem said, “to bring up such a concern now, but as it’s quite honestly only just really occurred to me, do you not feel it’s all a bit underhanded to leave this entirely in our hands?”
“Well, like you’ve said, we’ve sunk too low now,” his wife murmured.
“Point taken,” Iksana replied. She hadn’t faced it much, but the cooler part of her mind ached to emphasize that decisions surrounding queenship should hardly be surreptitiously made in the company of foreigners and a little girl. But that they had even come to this conclusion at all! “Any suggestions on who we might approach on a broader level? I know the original intention was to only bring in those who might have a chance for actual change, but.”
Jasem shrugged, his shoulders heaving with mountain-like forcefulness. “No, not unless you want to make this a legislative matter. If we want to stick with people who’ve got a say as to succession then I’m hooped for choice.”
The princess nodded. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve got some influence with the Carries Water family, so that’s an inroad to getting money to whom we wish. Money, though, is its own matter. When we can approach my mother…”
It was after two in the morning when the group finally split, having spent an interminable amount of time— Iksana figured four hours— debating the ins and outs of the new plan.
Well, the old plan, she thought,
but new in execution. It was what they needed. It was what the
nation needed. She had spent her entire life as witness to the failure of old systems. How old women led old men to isolation, war, and death. How even the most noble of those in power could be rendered ineffective by the systems that held them up. If she was to be queen, she would not be queen of a nation that pitched its tents near bone and not buffalo, as the saying went. When she was young enough to still sit on her father’s knee, he had told her once of her namesake, a former matriarch who carried the Calling Buffalo name through some of the leanest years of their history. She’d tried to live up to that legacy, but it seemed an almost unreachable goal.
The politicians from earlier— Iksana hazily remembered they came from Crowsnest, same as her— seemed absorbed in some conversation about horse racing, from what little was able to be heard. Octavian stood with his back against one of the pillars, apparently in the middle of a conversation with Mati, who looked faintly queasy and not at all as slimy as he usually did. The Lord Protector did seem to have an unusual effect on people in that regard. Iksana loved that about him. She loved much about him, of course, but his sheer force of will was to her like gold in its value. Her gaze hung on him for a few moments more before she turned away and adjusted her grip on Nadie. Like a girl of much younger years, she had fallen asleep not too long after the main discussion had concluded, and Iksana had spent the last half-hour or so juggling her between shoulders. She remembered doing the same when she was the same age, and even before. In both positions.
Opposite her, Jasem laughed. “If only we could all do that. Some days I would like to just sit somewhere and sleep an afternoon or night away. No interruptions, no calls for me to do something. I’m sure you feel that even more strongly, princess.” The title rolled off his tongue with a smile. Iksana remembered when he’d come to the palace as a boy; they had made a game out of abusing honorifics, not caring a whit for them then the same as now. Even if the titles had changed. Back then it was ‘princess’ with that almost irreverent air to it; ‘child’ or ‘girl’ felt far more appropriate. Now it was ‘princess’ or ‘my lady’ accompanied by copious bowing and scraping. Soon enough, even ‘my queen,’ if the election went as they had spent the past hours hoping. Creator above! A queen!
Jasem had kept up with Awasi politics, she thought,
but even he was agog the first time I spoke of such a thing. She denied further thoughts in her mind. They could wait until she was ready to face them.
Zahra appeared out of nowhere beside her husband, hands in her dress’ deep pockets. She smiled cooly at Iksana, then much more kindly at Nadie’s sleeping form, taking the girl in her well-built arms. Iksana could raise no objection, not so long as Nadie leaned half-asleep into the firmer embrace. “Poor thing,” the Fahrani woman murmured. “A long day for her, I am sure. But so are most days when you are already a politician before you can drink. Well before. She has a way back, I am assuming?”
“I did want to bring that up to her, but she had passed out by the time I thought of it,” said Iksana. “Byar’s a decent sort of fellow, I have no doubt he’d come and help out if desperately needed, but he’s almost triple my age and more preoccupied with his work than my father with cold beer after a day fishing on Lake Iyewa. Not to mention Ahanu is… oh, Creator, he’s a college student. One of the bad ones, you know? I may joke that I have it rough, Zahra, but that girl’s stuck with one of the most aloof siblings I’ve ever met. I’d be surprised if he remembers they’re related for all the work I see him putting into the matter.”
“She does not have anyone, then?” Jasem asked. There was a twinge of worry in his baritone voice.
“Well, I’m sure you picked up on the lack of mention of any parents— been a decade since all of that, terrible time. Not a lot of aunts, really. None willing to do anything. There are some support staff, sure, some more distant cousins here or there. Some…” she trailed off, deep in thought. “You’re about correct, I suppose. A lot of tutors and a lot of petitioners, but children aren’t meant for social sterility like that. There’s been no real constant. We might treat her like an adult here, for the most part, but she’s…” Iksana sighed, and silence fell once more. Mati, behind them, actually laughed— laughed!— at something Octavian had said, and then the men resumed their hushed conversation. Somehow the Crowsnest politicians had disappeared. The air had taken on a pleasant but nevertheless brisk chill that made Iksana wish she had a shawl, perhaps the one she had received as a gift years ago, with the red tassels. Oh, how this reminded her of earlier years! Staying out past midnight, surrounded by people she cared to be with; talking like a person and not a figurehead, respected though she may be. It felt almost normal, and that was a rare enough commodity. She could spare a few more minutes to bask in that feeling.
Zahra, with a hand on the back of Nadie’s head, suddenly frowned. “This girl needs mothering. I do not intend for her to go without it. If that cousin of hers wishes for a return soon, I shall be happy to give her up. Until that point and until I get some guarantee she won’t be shuttled about like a prize thoroughbred for display, however, she shall be coming with me. Ah, only if you allow such a thing, of course, your highness,” she said, bowing slightly in Iksana’s direction. Jasem looked worried, but Zahra shot him a glare that communicated such intent and ferocity that the feeling seemed to disappear as quickly as it came.
“Zahra, formalities are the last thing I need. Iksana is fine. You’re my sister-in-law,” the princess said, to Jasem’s small half-hidden smile, “I don’t expect you to treat me like a glass doll. I get quite enough of that from everyone else. Certainly enough. But about Nadie… if we’re to ask anyone to allow it, I feel like it should be the person we’re actually talking about, hm? She’s old enough to make her own decisions, I think.”
Zahra’s cheeks flushed a brilliant scarlet against dark skin, but she maintained the rest of her composure when she jostled Nadie awake; the girl’s eyes snapped open, then she sputtered half-aware excuses and fell hard onto the ground. A moment later she was anxiously and ferociously dusting off her bronze-threaded skirts. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, voice high and fluttery. “I think I fell asleep, if I ruined something, I’m sorry, or missed something, I’m sorry, sorry, really, I—“
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Iksana said. Had she been this jumpy when she was younger? Creator, how Nadie shook! Might as well have vibrated out of her moccasins. It was almost too much to think of why she might be so nervous. Princesses did not tend to berate their subjects, but the more time she spent with the girl the more she felt the need to beat that brother of hers senseless. Preferably with a metal club, or something heavier. She’d have to consult Octavian later on torture methods. “Really, Nadie. You haven’t. We were just going to ask how you were getting home.”
The girl deflated like a balloon, or a porcupine expelling its spines, worried expression replaced by a weary one. “Oh. Oh, okay.” Nadie furrowed her brow. “Uh. I didn’t really think about it. I… Byar’s not home for a few weeks, and Ahanu kinda sorta said he didn’t want to see me…” she trailed off, kicking at the dirt. “As usual, I guess. He’s like that. So I don’t really know.”
“You know, Zahra was thinking you might wish to come along with us for a while,” Jasem rumbled, lips beneath his beard curling up into something of a grin. Nevertheless, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “We bought a place on the Longbow when I came back. Trying to make a forever home, you know. Pastureland, and orchard. Plenty of space for horses; I was told you’re not a bad rider. Only if you absolutely would like, of course, and feel comfortable with the idea. I would not want you to feel that we’re forcing you.”
Nadie bit her lip. She looked to Iksana, then Jasem and Zahra, then back to the ground, tugging on a ribboned braid. A myriad of emotions played upon her face. Kindness, it seemed, was not exactly first on her list of considerations when dealing with others, and she seemed almost unused to the concept. “Are you… I mean… to stay? To stay with you?” Her eyes widened and lit up at the prospect, green as a field. “No strings? Free of charge and all that?”
Octavian, who had appeared from behind silently like he always seemed apt to do, seemed like he might well burst into laughter. It was strange to see such a dangerous-looking man so relaxed. Iksana could not help but fix her eyes on his, and blushed as red as a chokecherry bush when he looked in her direction and smiled. Damn that man, how she loved him so! “They are not trying to kidnap you, Nadie.”
“Heavens, no,” said Jasem. He wrung his hands like one might a dishcloth, but otherwise seemed stalwart.
Silence for another minute. Nadie swung her hands back and forth, brows furrowed in concentration. Iksana shared a knowing glance or two with Octavian, who had moved beside her once more, then clasped his hands in her own. She felt the heavy ring on his thumb; the history it carried, the promise it kept. So many meanings wrapped up in so little bronze! But even his skin was enough to give her peace. Her eyes moved over to Zahra, who was busy whispering to Jasem in hushed tones with an urgent look in her eyes. Iksana could recognize it well enough. Zahra was a strong woman, as willful as her husband, but even she was not immune to certain higher calls and it seemed that it had taken but a few hours for her to be hopelessly maternally afflicted. No matter what Jasem said to the contrary, there was the sense that the two would have a veritable gaggle of children in the future. It would be a good thing if they got practice with Nadie. There were worse things, to be sure. Worse people as well— Iksana thought idly that there were few who could love harder than her sister-in-law, if Jasem’s calls from Fahran had betrayed any true sense of it all. It was almost strange to be able to be so casual in calling him a brother, now, but she did not mind. She did not mind at all.
Finally Nadie looked up. “I think I want to come along. To stay.” She seemed to chew on the word for another moment with her eyebrows faintly furrowed. “To stay with you,” she concluded, with a good deal of force, and smiled.
Iksana squeezed Octavian’s hand harder, grinning. “It’s settled then!”
“I suppose it is,” Octavian said in reply, though with such a cadence as to suggest the statement was primarily directed towards himself.
“I expect,” Iksana continued, pointing a finger at Jasem, “that the next time I see Nadie I shall hear nothing but praise from her mouth as to your conduct, and see that she is completely safe and sound in body, or I will exile you from the country for the rest of your natural lives.”
Mm. Never one for speeches like that, the princess thought.
It doesn’t feel right. Good in the moment, but I shall not be my mother. Not yet, not now, not ever.“You really mean that?” Jasem laughed.
“Do you think I don’t?”
Suitably amused, Jasem bowed; highly exaggerated, he finished with a flourish, and shot Iksana a look of pure gratitude. Either that, or one of joking acknowledgment; he had always had the bad habit of making the sorts of gestures and expressions that left everyone else in the vicinity scratching their heads. But something true showed, thin enough as it was. That was all she needed. There were no more words, really. Zahra took her leave with Nadie, talking kindly with her arm wrapped around the younger girl’s shoulders as the two went towards an Ipia pickup; Jasem followed soon after with only a small nod to the others. Mati, who appeared either impressed or frightened enough by Octavian to have abandoned his general smarminess, gave Iksana general words of pointless gratitude before ducking out to a waiting helicopter. A helicopter? Creator, she swore he’d come in a car. Where the Deer boys kept getting their resources, she had no idea. Or perhaps her memory was simply suffering that so normal of consequences as overworkedness. But he left just the same, and soon enough the fire had died down and all that remained was the princess and her bodyguard surrounded by rock.
Octavian blinked. “Well. That is that, at any rate. They are gone.”
“What exactly do you suppose we should do?” Iksana asked, fluttering her eyelashes. Her companion rolled his eyes, reaching out, and with a single tug she felt the cool night air on her shoulders. His hand traced the smooth skin on the nape of her neck. It was all she could think about.
“I have some ideas.”
Then they were on the ground, and she was left thinking about something quite different.