14. Re with a Stranger

ENTIN

CHAPTER 14

Entin wanted to cry out, but his mouth was filled with blood. The murderer—Harlak—was relentless. But Entin refused to give in. The thought of striking out seemed pointless. He wasn't a fighter. He had no will to inflict harm on anything or anyone, no matter how they treated him. Hatred had never come naturally to him; it was the furthest thing from who he was. But as he lay there—face down in the mud, waiting helplessly as the cruel man plodded over to him one sinister footstep at a time—he felt the faintest flicker of the emotion catch fire within him.

The man yanked him upright by his leathers. Entin's head swam as Harlak handled him, and he found himself growing dizzy and faint from a caustic brew of overwhelming exhaustion and fear. But then he noticed Cascade in the crowd, and beside him, Aiel. They were looking at him pityingly. It was the same look Aiel had given him when she snuck him scraps of food as a boy. A part of him swelled at the familiarity of it, and a part of him recoiled at being seen as helpless.

"Those that don't fight aren't worth the food we spare them," Harlak yelled. "Any like this, that refuse, shall be put to death."

The crowd was silent. Entin reeled to the man in horror, stunned by his proclamation. But Harlak was faced away from him, speaking to the bulk of the onlookers. Entin realized then that he intended to make him into a lesson. Something within him erupted.

Entin threw himself at Harlak. It was a clumsy, pathetic attempt at a tackle, and Harlak was so much bigger than him that he nearly failed at taking him down, even with the advantage of surprise. But Entin leaped onto him anyway, wrapping his arms around his thick neck and gripping his legs around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides. He began squeezing as tightly as he could with all his limbs and bashed his head over and over into Harlak's as he did so. Harlak writhed against him, but with his arms pinned by Entin's legs, he couldn't gain purchase. He stumbled and then crashed into the mud.

The pair rolled this way, then that. Harlak fought in vain against his desperate, feral grip. Entin realized he was grinning like a wildman. His face, hair, and body were covered in mud. But he didn't care. He giggled maniacally as Harlak began to grow weak and then quite limp beneath him. There was blood everywhere. His blood. But also Harlak's.

But then, abruptly, he was being dragged from the man by rough hands, and the rest of the tribe was gathering around the barely conscious chief in apparent concern. A few even shot uneasy glances at Entin, but for the most part, they were too focused on Harlak to pay him any mind. The pair that had dragged him off Harlak turned out to be none other than the brothers, Sivek and T'reer.

"You almost got him, good for you," Sivek murmured in his ear.

"Let's get you cleaned up, and then you can partner with me, and I will teach you how to use your spear," T'reer said.

The thought of any more combat made Entin want to puke, but he glumly nodded anyway. His choice was clear: if he didn't fight, he'd die. If he fought, he'd likely die anyway—but at least he had a chance. He pulled away from the brothers and wiped his aching arm across his face. A blood-red smear appeared on it as he did so, and the sight of it caused a renewed wave of nausea to nearly overcome him. But he pushed through it and ambled to where his weapon lay in the mud. It still felt foreign and wrong in his hand. But his determination didn't waver this time. He grasped it the way Cascade had shown him, or at least tried to, and returned to the brothers. Cascade and Aiel joined their little huddle.

"Entin… I'm so sorry," Cascade said.

Entin felt his cheeks burn as Cascade looked him over. Aiel was staring at him in disbelief. Not the disgust he imagined but rather a sort of betrayal that caused his shame to swell within him until it was almost unbearable.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Cascade asked worriedly.

He gently brushed Entin's hair out of his eyes, then drew him in and kissed him on the forehead.

"If he touches you again, I'll kill him," Cascade whispered.

But Entin barely heard the words. Aiel stared murderously at him, and he could only stare wordlessly back as she witnessed Cascade's affection.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed over Cascade's shoulder.

But she said nothing. And her silence was judgment enough. Cascade let go of him at last.

"I'm fine. A little sore but fine," Entin assured him half-heartedly.

But it wasn't true. He was anything but fine. He felt like parts of him were splitting away. And he doubted the weapon in his hand would lead him back to them, even if he wanted it to. But his excuse seemed to assuage Cascade for now. They all watched uneasily as Harlak was helped to his feet. He looked straight at them, dead-eyed, with a cold sneer on his face—and Entin couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't just a little impressed by what he'd nearly done to him. The crowd began to disperse as the tribe moved on from the sudden violence and began to train.

"Right. Spears. Run your drills. Sivek, can you take my other charge? I should help Entin here get acclimated with more than the meager joys of attempted strangulation," T'reer joked.

"Of course," Sivek replied lightly.

It did relieve Entin a bit to see that the brothers had formed a trusting relationship with their trainees. The strange, red-haired men who accompanied them both appeared clean and well fed, and they eagerly approached Sivek.

"And I will train Aiel, if she'll allow it," Cascade said.

"Maybe I should be the one to train you," she retorted.

Entin couldn't help but laugh. He had caught her training in the woodlands many afternoons growing up. She'd kept a spear hidden at the forest's edge, and when their daily chores were done, she'd frequently run off and hunt on her own. Because of the gendered roles of their tribe, she couldn't bring the meat home, so she'd often cook it and share it with Entin. She had been kind to him when he'd relied on kindness to survive. And now, she wouldn't even look at him.

"Maybe you should," Cascade agreed. "I'm sure we could learn a lot from each other. Now, let's get started before Harlak finds an excuse to murder anyone else."

And so the training finally began.

"One more time," T'reer said patiently. "Find the balance point like I showed you."

Entin moved his hand up and down the shaft until he held it about two-thirds of the way up the pole. The balance point became easier to find each time he rehearsed this part.

"And now stand like this," T'reer said.

He gripped Entin by the waist and guided him into position. The fraternal way T'reer treated him was wholly unfamiliar. The men in his tribe, even as boys, treated him mainly like the outcast he was. The women hadn't liked him either. And yet here, in this strange new world, he felt in some ways he knew his place better than he ever had.

"Now, sight your target, and never take your eyes from it. Bend your knees, and inhale, from here," T'reer said.

He held his hand on Entin's chest.

"Pull all the way back, then drive it through with your shoulder. Throw," T'reer urged.

Entin hurled the spear. To his amazement, the weapon arced through the air and embedded itself into the tree he'd aimed it at.

"There he is! A killer is born!" T'reer whooped.

Entin grinned at him, then loped off to retrieve the weapon. He'd been cold when they'd started. The rain hadn't relented, either. But the exercise had worked up vigor in him, and he was sweating from his efforts. As he strode back to T'reer, he watched Aiel disarm Cascade of his spear. She'd used her own to jab his foot, then deftly ducked his counter. Now, she struck out with an arcing kick that carried her momentum. It landed squarely at Cascade's ankle and sent him crashing onto his back. Aiel leapt on top of him, ripped his cutting stone from his pocket, and held it to his throat.

"Are we done?" she growled.

"For today, sure," Cascade wheezed.

He carefully reached out and guided her hand away from his throat. Aiel tossed the stone on the ground and rose to her feet.

"Good. Then leash me back up. I'm sure your Harlak will want to train me on his ‘spear' later, and I'd rather you do the honors—at least I know you'll pretend to be gentle."

She grabbed the leash from the ground and hurled it at Cascade.

"I'd help you if I could, believe me," he said.

"Like you helped him?" she said darkly.

She was pointing at Entin, and he felt himself flush with shame under her attention.

"You've taken advantage of us in every way you could. You're barbarians. It doesn't matter if you don't see yourselves that way. I see you for what you are," she said.

There was a long, tense silence as she stared down Cascade. He was sitting cross-legged in the mud, eventually breaking eye contact with her.

"It wasn't like that, Aiel. He didn't take advantage of me," Entin said.

The words were hard to get out. They felt like a burl of boughs caught in his throat and emerged breathy and choppy. But Cascade regarded him gratefully for speaking them. The sight of his handsome, mud-covered face caused the rest of it to spill out of Entin more readily.

"It just happened. I promise. I think we have to trust them. They are not all like Harlak," Entin pleaded.

"Entin. They took us from our home. They burned our village to the ground. Are you insane?"

"Aiel. What we say about the Wolves is true," Cascade said evenly. "If you can believe anything we've said, believe that. They would have come for you either way. I know what we've done seems wrong, and if we all die anyway, maybe it was. The gods can judge us later. But trust me when I say we are not an evil people. We do what we must to survive. Same as you. And if you want to survive now, you'll need to learn to trust as Entin has. I'm sorry for what my uncle has done to you. He is the worst of us."

She stared at him coldly for a long while. Then, to Entin's surprise, she reached out her slender arm and extended a hand to Cascade. He regarded her warily, then took it. She hoisted him to his feet, then leaned in and whispered something Entin couldn't hear.

Cascade's eyebrows rose. He nodded once.

"I understand," he said when she was done.

"Are we all friends now?" Sivek inquired.

He and his two red-haired trainees had returned slick with sweat.

"I sure hope so," T'reer said. "Because here comes someone who certainly isn't a friend."

Harlak was approaching with a pair of men Entin had noticed hanging around him more than some of the others. He gripped his spear instinctively, uncertain if these would be his final moments.

The trio approaching all held spears too. As they neared, Entin desperately wanted to look anywhere other than at Harlak but could not do so. The man's predatory gaze hypnotized him. But then Sivek, T'reer and Cascade formed a sort of wall in front of him, all carrying spears of their own.

"Uncle. It was Father's order that none of the captured be harmed. Entin has proven his worth. He can throw a spear. And he's willing to fight. Now, if there's nothing else—" Cascade began.

"Just because your pup bites when it's scared doesn't mean it can fight," Harlak retorted.

The six men were facing off in the twilight drizzle now.

"I will not let you hurt him, or this trainee either," Cascade declared.

He gestured at Aiel, who was busy glaring at Harlak.

"You don't give orders here. I do," Harlak snarled.

But Entin noticed his voice was less steady than it had been.

"I will not stain our ancestors with the shame of your cruelty. I claim these trainees as my own. They will learn better under my care. Now, unless you have more to offer, I suggest you find another use of your time," Cascade said.

The taller, younger man stared down at his uncle with unwavering cool. Entin couldn't help but feel awed by his natural leadership. Harlak glared back at him, and Entin noticed his hand shaking slightly with subdued rage where it gripped his spear.

Harlak grimaced. "Very well. But if you challenge my authority again, there will be blood spilled for your insolence."

With that, he spat on the ground. Harlak grunted to the men on either side of him, then shoved past Entin and his group and made his way back toward Main Cave. The other trainees and Mountainhome trainers were largely doing the same.

Cascade picked Aiel's leash up out of the mud.

"I imagine you won't be wanting this?" he asked, one eyebrow arced.

"Don't think this makes us friends," Aiel said darkly.

But Entin could tell she had softened. The scowl she'd been holding on to had left her, and when she glanced at him, he caught the flicker of a smile in the corner of her mouth. It was enough. He exhaled for what felt like the first time all afternoon. Cascade wrapped the leash up and tucked it over one shoulder.

"Come. We will eat at mine. Sivek, T'reer, you and your charges are welcome to join us. It's been a long day. Some wine and food will do all of us good," Cascade offered.

And with that, the first day of training came to an end. Entin's shoulder was already sore from heaving the spear so many times. But he looked hopefully at Aiel. Then the unlikely group began to make their way up to Cascade's cave.

As they climbed, the clouds finally broke. It was the first reprieve from the gods since this abysmal day had begun. Ahead, visible in the clearing and arcing high above the Slumbering God, was a rainbow. Entin couldn't help but think it was a sign that perhaps he wasn't as doomed as he'd so often felt.