Chapter Seven
Murisa Kingdom
Latrell Town
Her chest rose and fell with each inhale of smoke that loomed in the air. The stench of burning flesh and wood filled her nose while the constant clash of sword against sword assaulted her ears. Nara moved her right foot in front of the other, fingers gripping tightly the two short swords in her hands each directed towards the two-armed enemies. They circled her like hungry wolves. Her eyes narrowed deadly on the foes, mirroring the rage inside of her.
Why the sudden attack from Kalil soldiers? Nara tried to understand.
The utter shock that had paralysed her for a moment when she’d witnessed a Kalil warrior thrust his sword into a horrified Murisa woman still cut through the varied emotions she was feeling. The day had taken a turn that hadn’t been expecting. Nara had woken with the sun in the morning as it cast downlight and brighten the sky. Thoughts of going home were the only thing that had been on her mind and heart the whole night before. She missed her family after being gone for over four months carrying out the king’s orders. The king had instructed small towns in the south near the borders of Lake Azum which separated them from the Kalil Kingdom should have a conventional garrison with trained warriors of their own after dragged out demands and persistence of the towns folks. The towns had voiced that the nearest military post was almost a day’s journey depending on the seasons. The long distance stood as a problem when folks couldn’t call out for help when their properties, farms got pillaged and livestock stolen by rustlers. These aggressive acts commonly occurred during the end of the year when people drunk from endless celebrations and offerings to gods they no longer believed but still followed the traditions.
Now all that filled her was anger, it pounded her blood and hungered for retribution.
“I shall have your head!” the man growled in Nyr, the standard language commonly used by most humans as he drew a step near to her. He was heavy in size, armed in solid black armour from head to foot except for the poor greaves which exposed his calves. He held a shield with an axe and a grim expression on his sweat-dirt face.
Nara took a discretely step backwards keeping the two within eyesight. Overhead them, the overshadowed blazing sun slithered through thick dark clouds of smoke and scorched her bare face. Her eyes strained as they fought the dizziness threatening to plunge her into darkness.
I should end this quickly before I end up dead instead. The cause of death would not be slaughtered by the two foes circling her like a wounded rabbit but the bloody sun and constricting pain in her belly! It must be the bread I ate this morning. Gosh! The food had looked a bit and tasted funny too, but she had been too hungry to care.
She wasn’t going to let them have her. We couldn’t have that now, can we? It would not be so honourable if she were to die today in such state. A famous warrior like her shouldn’t meet the end of a sword like this. It would be a disgrace to the army.
Beads of sweat itched down her temples.
Nara sized up the two and noticed the female soldier stood a few steps behind the huge man, a mace gripped tightly in her hands as she glowered back at her with eyes promising brutality. Finally! She knew who she had to tackle first, but she still needed a strategy to take down the big man. Her gaze slid down to the huge man’s feet. He stood with his knees slightly bent and feet apart ready to charge like a bull. And it was all Nara needed to lunge forward and take the big man by surprise.
Space wasn’t enough for her to slide in comfortably, but it had to do. Nara sprinted, twisting her shapely firm body onto her side to fit the small space, and slid down between his legs, slicing his shins and calves deep and brutally with quick flicks of her wrists. The man howled and fell to his knees, bleeding profusely.
Instantly, Nara pushed upward on her elbows and tried to get back up to her feet but was held midway when a sharp pain spread over her scalp. There was an intense, painful tug on her hair like it was being torn from the roots.
“Ugh!” a growl left her lips and struggled to pull out her braid under the heavy soldier’s bloody metal greave, who of now was sprawled down flat on his front crippled from the deep cut she had inflicted on him. Her ears caught the female battle cry of the soldier forwarding at her while she struggled to untangle her hair to free herself. With one arm tugging her braid, Nara stretched her left arm and picked up a discarded shield smeared with a mixture of grass, blood, and dirt. She lifted the shield over her head a second sooner before the Kalil soldier hammered down against her with a grisly mace. The solid metal shield resonated and vibrated in her hands with force. Nara clenched her fingers tighter on the handle of the shield. She stretched her legs to cut the Kalil soldier’s balance off and buy few seconds to free herself. The Kalil soldier smoothly jumped over her legs to the opposite direction and aimed the menacing mace for her face the moment she found her footing.
Foolish! Nara scolded herself for thinking too little of the Kalil warrior’s briskness. Reflexively, she rolled over to the opposite side and avoided the mace’s sharp silver iron teeth. The mace hit the Kalil warrior’s legs causing the fallen soldier to spasm violently and shriek in agony.
Nara’s heart galloped in fear for a long second. For a moment, she was afraid of being smashed with the unsavoury weapon. On the other hand, beyond furious, the Kalil woman threw her helmet aside together with her weapon, her sweaty hair falling on her menacing expression that resembled the discarded mace. She pushed her fellow fallen soldier aside unaware she just freed her target. She grabbed Nara by the neck, while her strong fingers squeezed her throat. The Kali female pinned her down with her body. Before Nara could blink the pain away jabbing her scalp, a heavy fist landed on her jaw. Her head tilted back with a jerk.
The Kalil warrior didn’t give her time to recover and landed the second punch.
A bright red flushed her face, pain lancing through her skull.
With both hands, Nara grabbed tight onto the wrists of the Kalil warrior and struggled to tug free the crushing fingers which closed inflexible around her throat.
Her breath thinned.
Third blow!
Black, red ringed spots swam in her eyes, causing a trail of blood to trickle from a cut right on her cheekbone. Hissing, Nara tugged harder. The taste of copper filled her mouth the moment she jerked free the warrior’s firm grip. Her skull rang violently, her throat worked and swallowed some of the blood flooding her mouth. She needed to get her off her. Not an easy task. Nara grunted.
The Kalil woman was all mean muscle, her body built for the battle which only made her sturdy and exasperatingly strong. Nara grimaced as she thrust her pelvis upward with force and dislodged the soldier impaling her thighs as she was about to throw her next fist, and without wasting a second, she wrapped her legs around the Kalil soldier’s neck tightly and thrust herself up and choked her.
The fierce warrior thrashed and tried to kick her while she drew at Nara’s feet desperately as blood rushed to her skull, eyes bulging, and veins popping and swelling on her forehead. The burning in her lungs increased with the loss of air while the two strong crossed legs threatened to crush her throat.
Not a chance, Nara smirked cruelly at her and without hesitation, she twisted her ankles inwards, one across the other with all the strength from her powerful legs.
Snap!
Nara watched coldly as the light in the warrior’s eyes faded, and the pain filled expression turned slack while she fell backwards to the ground lifeless. Nara rolled her jaw and winced. A fit of a dry cough shook her shoulder and spat some blood. Her head hurt badly, and her throat was beyond sore like she just swallowed a bag of sand. Black strands of hair plastered to her forehead, her body ached yet Nara managed to crawl on her knees to the two short swords which she left beside the fallen helmet of the crippled soldier when she had let go and picked up the shield. She heard the fallen warrior’s faint breath as it wheezed in and out. Sliding one of the swords on the scabbard tied around her waist, Nara plunged the other on the man’s neck to end his misery. Blood spluttered on the cerulean breastplate she wore and on her chin. Eyes cold as winter, Nara felt no remorse for killing the two warriors. She still needed to come to terms with their betrayal to feel anything else besides shock and the burning gnawing her stomach. The burning sensation made her limbs weak, it was excruciating than the fists from the Kalil soldier. There were two things she could not tolerate. One, an ache from eating something that did not agree with her tummy and two, being in her days of the month. It was something she would never get used to no matter how many times throughout the years she experienced it. Cuts, fists or any other form of torment she could endure but not this, this was not among them. A sudden need to sleep next to the dead body beside her so she could catch her breath crossed her mind.
I’m starting to lose it. Nara ground her teeth and staggered on her feet. Her gaze drifted to another Kalil man who was engaging in a sword fight with one of Murisa warrior. He had his back toward her and oblivious to his surroundings with his attention fully committed to his opponent. Sure, there wasn’t anything she could do about her stomach now, but lending her hand she could. A hot spark glinted in her eyes. Nara wiped the blood off her chin with the back of her hand and clutched the crimson smeared sword firmly in her hands. In light and almost soundless measured footsteps, she approached the man from behind.
***
She stood under a worn down roof of a house that had survived from being reduced to ashes and rubbles. Nara watched a young lad in a dirty pale brown tunic, and black hose holds on to his mother’s worn skirt as she carried water in a wooden bucket to several handfuls of men rebuilding one of the houses that were burnt by the Kalil warriors. Above, the sun’s orange and red hues painted the beautiful sky and fell over the surrounding trees. A big contrast to the hollowness of the town.
Nara’s expression turned grim while sadness squeezed her chest and dragged the corner of her lips down. Although she survived with some of the others and had defeated the enemy, the aftermath was not worthy of celebration.
She and other Murisa warriors stayed in Latrell for the last three days since the attack to help the town’s folks salvage what they could from the wreckage while some of the soldiers lent their strength to rebuild and to protect the villagers lest another ambush erupted. They had also buried several civilians and warriors that died in the crossfire which among them were men and women whom she had travelled with from Vessener to accomplish the job that had to send them to Latrell. Others who’d died were ones Nara had helped to assess and handpick from the small sparsely occupied town and trained with side by side to become the new guards of their own city once her troop was gone. In the four months of gruesome practice and discipline in different tactics of defence, she had become friends with some of the young men and women that had volunteered to sacrifice themselves to protect their families and town members.
Nara could almost hear the lament of the fallen buried down deep in the soil. What great unfairness! for them to be pitted against Kalil warriors for their first time to prove what they had learnt.
Left behind were families and friends struck with grief and in mourning. She could only imagine the carnage if she and other members of Elite had departed the town a day earlier…The Kalil warriors would’ve obliterated the entire city with everyone in it. The Kali was not known of sparing their targets.
Nara offered a quick prayer for the deceased. Odin to receive them with open arms in Valhalla and serve him as the great one deems. And the fallen Kalil warriors...be damned!
Fury coursed through her veins. Kalil onslaught was a great act of betrayal to a relationship that had been formed a military alliance for over a two hundred years ago in the times of the Dark War. The relationship which was made for a strategic purpose had become more than just an alliance of armies, friendship, trust and companionship had formed beyond the leaders and spread among the peoples of the two kingdoms. Nara closed her fingers into a tight fist and eyes hardening against the eventide. Whether the group of Kalil Warriors attacked to their own agenda or they were given orders to do so by their King and had led them to their downfall, she cursed them.
“Who is that you damn fervidly?” A voice asked behind her. Nara didn’t have to turn to know Barra stood a few feet behind her. But she turned around anyway, his presence a welcome distraction from the rage building inside her.
She kept her eyes on the captain as he approached her. He was in the dark cerulean armour of that fitted his muscular body frame well, a long sword strapped to his waist, and one arm cradled his helmet leaving his striking face, a three-day stubble which covered his lower face unhidden. The light evening breeze played with the short pale brown strands of hair that fell against his brows.
“Our distant brethren”, her voice was humourless only filled with pain and rage. Barra stood beside her. Nara tilted her head and closely looked at him in the dim light of the fading sun. His face was taut. Anger darkened his charming blue eyes, and a muscle jerked along his jaw, more than enough tale that he was mad and wrestling for control. It should be expected this from him after all he was the one who had been tasked with the responsibility by the General to oversee the training the small town’s new defence and lead their team back to the capital, once they were finished. She could see the running thoughts in his mind from the harsh set of his lips. Nara turned around to the previous position she had been when she was alone and continued to watch the busy villagers who now held oil lamps that illuminated their darkening surroundings as they worked. Silence fell between them until Barra spoke again. “I saw Schmerz the other day.”
Her head whipped toward him while every bone in her body went rigid at the mention of the Kalil General.
“What?” disbelief coloured her voice.
“He was with several men, probably more than twenty standing by over the hill. He appeared to have been monitoring his men's’ actions from a distant” Barra continued, his voice strained low. Her mouth gaped, stunned by the revelation.
“What’s this supposed to mean? If you saw General Schmerz, then the assumption that the men who attacked were acting on their own accord becomes invalid.”
The General’s mere presence changed everything. A troubling feeling tickled Nara’s senses, as she tried to foresee the General’s presence. The cutthroat General was known for his undying loyalty to his king. King Abasi.
“Schmerz wouldn’t issue an attack without his king’s approval”, Barra said after a momentary pause.
“I don’t understand. Do you think this is Abasi’s invitation to war?” she asked after a swallow of hesitation, she was not going to deceive herself no matter what she would like to think otherwise, there’s only one reason the General was there.
“I don’t know, but they would not have attacked without any reason. Regarding this from a military position, this is an invitation” Barra replied somberly, words she dared not to suggest.
Nara was quiet for a second as a wave of disbelief and trepidation washed over her. “I just cannot believe Abasi would want such a thing, not after everything our two kingdoms have endured together. It’s a heresy of the alliance the ones before built and had kept us alive!”
“Are you that ignorant?” Barra muttered in a tone laced with a drop of condescension that made her dislike him occasionally, had her brows furrowing.
“Of what?” She asked. She was not the kind who entertained ignorance. Knowledge was power and useful, especially when in need, even when she would prefer not to know certain things.
“Of how for over the last two centuries Murisa has subjected Kalil to its rule?”
True, although the alliance was formed for a greater cause, it did not escape the challenges that came with it, like who had the authority to make significant decisions which involved the vulnerability and benefits of both kingdoms. In this situation, Murisa had the most authority when it came to political influence.
“You know the reason. The people of Kalil failed to govern themselves and had nearly brought destruction upon us which lead to Einar’s treaty!” she retorted then added with a snarl, “And see what they have done. Apparently, they cannot be trusted to lead themselves.”
“Perhaps they did it to free themselves. You can only subject someone for so long” Barra clipped, a vein twitching on his forehead. He looked angry, and not seemingly for what Kalil had done.
“Why are you defending them?” Nara narrowed her eyes at him, perplexed by his odd behaviour. Barra held her gaze for a moment, noting the way she looked at him. He sighed and unclenched his teeth.
“Maybe we brought this on ourselves. We should have seen this coming when King Lorenz refused king Abasi’s termination of the treaty” He said calmly.
Wait, what? Her brows quirked in confusion. “I did not hear of this. When did these talks happen?”
She would have heard of it if not from her father, then from other members of the royal court who gossiped about everything. She could not have missed King Abasi’s visit.
Unless...
“Abasi sent his emissary. His Majesty did not want anyone to know of this except for the General and the mage and his trustees.” Barra answered. So, it was kept a secret. She pressed her lips in irritation. If they had not hidden it from people, perhaps they would have been prepared and more cautious, lessening the loss.
Barra expelled a breath and did something utterly strange of character. Knowing he had been aware too and said nothing, angered her even more. She made him understand this by glaring at him in the eyes.
“Does it hurt?” He brought up his free hand and cupped her discoloured cheek. Flinching at the contact, Nara stared at him strangely. What the heck is he doing?
Yeah, a lot, it feels like my jaw is about to drop any moment She winced when his thumb pressed on her cheek lightly.
“A little” she muttered softly, ignoring the warmth his thumb was causing as it gently brushed her cheek. Heat spread over her face and somehow soothing her throbbing jaw. She’d forgotten how possibly she appeared to him. Quite unattractive she must look with small cuts on her bruised face, swollen blue eye with chapped dried lips. The female Kali warrior had roughed her up enough and given her a painful headache.
“I…I’m” Barra cleared the gruffness in his voice and something she couldn’t discern in his gaze. She was getting used of his thumb ministration when his hand dropped back down, wearing a serious face. “Let us go. The rest are waiting for us.”
And just like the giant horned chameleon that dwelled in the woodlands of Ruhig forest never knowing what colour they would change to and made your eyes a sport-was how Barra was. He was back being the hard-pressing captain she had been acquainted with five years ago, a man who had made her recruit days’ ordeal, a man whom many saw and took him at face value and failed to see another softer part of him. Once in a blue moon, she had come to get a glimpse of after joining the Elite and spending many months travelling across the country and taking on secret royal missions with him. His past had a huge role to his complex character, she believed.
Nara watched him as he placed his helmet on his head and stalked away. Not wasting another second, she wore her helmet and followed him behind to where the rest of the warriors waited at the open field, perched high on their horses, expression sullen behind their helmets. She swung up on the horse swiftly, twisted the reins in her hand and jammed the horse with her heels, and off she cantered alongside the others headed for Vessener.
Chapter Eight
The Forod Kingdom,
House of Gwainor
Calemir
In the grand imperial court were the high lord elves assembled to discuss matters of the kingdom, the youngest of them, prince Calemir son of Gwainor sat among the elders of the High Houses. He listened to lord Ivlisar jabber on about how the absence of the ill king left the throne in danger and vulnerable, and stating it was not good for the houses of Forod nor the entire kingdom. The three houses that acted as pinnacles of the kingdom included the Imperial house of Gwainor, the house of Ontophen and house of Amlug.
Lord Ivlisar was one of the elders representing the house of Ontophen.
“It is only fit for one of the elders to take the throne until his Majesty decides to return to the land of the living” lord Ivlisar zealously pressed on across the table.
Calemir looked at the elder, agitation evident in his eyes. The elder was either imprudent not to care what came forth from his mouth or foolish trying to covet the throne openly.
“The borders are in control. No one would dare set foot inside the kingdom under my watch.” Calemir stated in a matter of fact tone, as he caught the gaze of the high lord with his own. He was the prince of Forod, and on behalf of his father, he had the authority to act as the chief General to command the kingdom’s army. He knew very well his responsibility was to protect his people to his last breath and he performed his duty exceptionally. He had his best of men on watch throughout the kingdom.
“We are aware of your service to protect us as the royal commander, and for that, we are forever grateful” the lord gave a slight bow then lifted his head. “Pardon your grace, but you are frequent absence from court affairs put you in an unfortunate position. The people need someone reliable and present always to hear them. Also with his Majesty in a sad state, our enemies may grow bold to sneak into the cities.” The high lord countered gaining confidence from few supporters nodding in the room.
What enemies? None of their foes had the guts to strike since he had hunted them to the brink of annihilation. Not even the rebels had the audacity.
Calemir almost scoffed. He was familiar with the lord’s conniving character. He found it absurd that Ivlisar would request the appointment of a new king so quickly and more so his father whom he had blatantly proclaimed as dead was in fact in a deep sleep. Other elders around him shifted awkwardly in their seats and chanced a glance at him. Calemir showed no emotion, his face unreadable. A mask he wore too well recently since he had ridden to his father’s house after receiving the upsetting news of his father’s sudden state. To keep order through the kingdom, he was forced to make more effort to hide his emotions and display nothing other than the authority, confidence, and collectiveness before the elders of the high houses. A tiny slip before the lords was unwanted and dangerous as he could very witness from the yapping high lord.
“For those-” whatever lord Ivlisar wanted to spew was cut short by the entrance of Val, the queen. Like the elders, Calemir squared his shoulders and stood up straight in the presence of the queen and watched her approach the throne gracefully. The queen sat on the throne, the elegant embellished gown she wore cascaded down her slender form and pooled at her feet. Her two sharp ears peaked out beneath her long, vibrant red hair that was adorned and held by a circlet allodia crown. They all rose, curtsying with one hand to the chest and bow of their heads. The queen tilted her head down in a bow, acknowledging them. Calemir and the elders took to their seats.
“Lord Ivlisar who is it you desire to sit on the throne?” the queen asked in ancient elvish tongue after the room went to a pinning silence. The tone of her voice was too kind for someone whose throne was being threatened that had Calemir taken aback. He hoped his mother’s vitality was not broken from caring for his ill father that she had no strength left to fight. If it happened to be, he vowed he would not easily hand over his father’s throne especially to the likes of the babbling elder.
Lord Ivlisar blinked at the unexpected question and the fact that the queen had heard him.
“We have yet to choose my queen,” the lord grinned, thinking his proposal was on the right path to be accepted. On the other hand, Calemir felt the annoyance that he had been feeling when the lord had begun to talk shifting to anger.
I should have seen this coming he told himself. He should have prepared himself for imminent threats and opposition. It hadn’t been more than four days since his father was ridden on his bed and oblivious to his surrounding and what transpired, still, here was one of his trusted counsel eyeing his throne. His mother’s calm voice brought his attention back to the ongoing talk.
“Lord Ivlisar who is Faerthurin?” the queen asked again.
“He is the forefather him who we descend from my queen” Lord Ivlisar snorted at the silly question rising quiet chuckles from other high lords. For an elder, he lacked manners. Every pure blood even a half-born elf was no stranger to Faethurin. From childbirth, the voice from the great one himself whispered in every bone marrow and echoed in the beating heart awakening the light spirit he had weaved before age began for an elf.
“What is the first call of an elf?” the queen asked. An amused expression shadowed lord Ivlisar face and stared at the queen like she had lost her wits and was crazy, at the same time other lords openly and stared at her strangely as they observed the unfolding conversation.
“I think the sudden illness of the king has affected you significantly. A rest would be suitable to replenish your spirit”. Lord Ivlisar replied in a jibing tone. “This is a suggestion from a lord who cares deeply for the queen of our great nation.”
I cannot watch this humiliation! Calemir’s jaw locked. A dark scowl loomed over his attractive face. He balled his hands into a fist and felt tendrils of heat climb down his legs and back up to his neck. His green eyes narrowed as he stood to intervene. Enough of this!
Tension strained the air in the room.
The queen sent a warning glance his way before he could do anything.
“What is the first call, lord Ivlisar?” the queen repeated her tone a blade and no longer polite.
“To follow dróttinn,” The lord replied after a swallow, a flustered look upon his features.
The queen’s eyes blazed from within to molten gold. Power shimmered within their depths.
“Who is dróttinn?” the elf queen demanded, her voice hard.
Every high lord in the grand hall tensed feeling the heated friction that had overtaken the calmer atmosphere that was present earlier. Calemir who was still standing, smirked, the charging emotions coming from the high lords rousing him. Fear, anger, excitement, anticipation, surprise, and sympathy slithered through him, mending energy to his muscles and quickening his heartbeat. It had been long since he was subjected to such strong emotions.
His irises began to darken to a richer color, his fingers twitched with a steady pulse, goosebumps breaking over his flesh. He clenched his fingers together, nails digging into his palms. It had also been long since he was in the presence of other, powerful high-elves other than himself.
It’s too much he heeded as the intangible emotions hummed inside him. He planted his foot firmly on the floor to stop from swaying. The older the high elves were, the stronger their feelings wept from them. Just then, an intense wave of indignation, mixed incoherent emotions bombarded him and tugged at his senses. It was too intense Calemir was beginning to get drunk from it- his eyes searched for the owner among the ethereal faces and landed on his mother, the source of such succulent and terrifying ball of barely controlled feelings. Her angelic face, beautiful as the stars wore a severe cutting look.
I cannot lose control. I cannot lose control Calemir chanted in his mind commanding his dulling senses to stay alert. Beads of hot sweat formed on the base of his neck. Any other time he would’ve welcomed the rush and what came after it. However not here, if he lost control and snapped, lord Ivlisar would be the first man he guaranteed would suffer. It would be troublesome to stand for a trial for killing the lord. Words of him being ruthless were not born from thin air. His eyelids fell shut and peeled open upon hearing the chilling tone of the queen’s voice.
“Answer me!” the queen thundered against the hushed room. Lord Ivlisar opened and closed his mouth, gasped like a fish out of water, no words coming out his mouth. His ears reddened and his dark brows shot up. “The chosen son. The descended of Faerthurin. King Gwainor” lord Ivlisar recited bitterly.
An ominous silence invaded the room.
The queen shifted her blazing gaze from lord’s Ivlisar stricken face and focused on the entire room. “Do any of you have other requests or would like to be reminded of who is the king? Do you need to be told who has fought and kept this nation safe for hundreds of years?” The lords glanced at each other, cleared their throats and shifted awkwardly on the chairs but no one among them had the courage to speak.
“Mmmh…good” Val’s demeanor softened. Seeing nobody had something to say she motioned for the rest to leave the hall with a flick of her fingers. Calemir stayed behind.
“How can it be” his mother cried as she collapsed into his arms after the last elder departed and the two of them were left alone. He felt a pinch on his forearms, her fingers grasping the black embroidered tunic he wore tightly. He wrapped his arms around her and gently pressed her head to his chest. “I have tried everything” she sobbed.
“It will be alright soon” he muttered softly, gently patting her back. He felt her disappointment- it numbed his high and slowed his drumming heartbeat. He wished he could take away the guilt that filled her heart, the guilt of failing to heal her other half when she could heal thousands with her healing powers.
Were they not so unfortunate people! Calemir smothered a bitter laugh as he considered of their unfavorable likeness. He was an empath who was not only able to feel other’s emotions but had the rare ability to manipulate them except his mother. Not because he couldn’t use it on her, it was that she had made him swear never to use his ability on her and in return he had sworn he would never do it despite how tempted he felt now. Once an elf promised, he could not go against his word. He was bound to keep it. He closed his eyes briefly in frustration then opened them.
Calemir leaned back, placed his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. He looked at her and muttered softly, “Soon everything will be right, and father will come back. Soon mother, do not worry.”