Fiddler Fair (anthology)

forgotten. While the clan chief and another took the semi-conscious boy from the front of the saddle, cursing at the sight of the chains on his wrists and ankles, it was into Kevin’s arms that Chali slumped, and he cursed to see the three feathered shafts protruding from her leg and arm.

Chali wanted to stay down in the soft darkness, where she could forget—but They wouldn’t let her stay there. Against her own will she swam slowly up to wakefulness, and to full and aching knowledge of how completely alone she was.

The kumpania was gone, and no amount of vengeance would bring it back. She was left with nowhere to go and nothing to do with her life—and no one who wanted her.

No-Voice is a fool, came the sharp voice in her head.

She opened her eyes, slowly. There was Bright­tooth, lying beside her, carefully grooming her paw. The cat was stretched out along a beautifully tanned fur of dark brown; fabric walls stretched above her, and Chali recognized absently that they must be in a tent.

How, a fool? asked a second mind-voice; Chali saw the tent-wall move out of the corner of her eye—the wall opened and became a door, and the young man she had helped to rescue bent down to enter. He sat himself down beside the cat, and began scratching her ears; she closed her eyes in delight and purred loudly enough to shake the walls of the tent. Chali closed her eyes in a spasm of pain and loss; their brotherhood only reminded her of what she no longer had.

I asked you, lazy one, how a fool?

Chali longed to be able to turn her back on them, but the wounds in her side made that impossible. She could only turn her face away, while tears slid slowly down her cheeks—as always, soundlessly.

A firm, but gentle hand cupped her chin and turned her head back toward her visitors. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting these Gaje to see her loss and her shame at showing it.

“It’s no shame to mourn,” said the young man aloud, startling her into opening her eyes. She had been right about him—with his hurts neatly bandaged and cleaned up, he was quite handsome. And his gray eyes were very kind—and very sad.

I mourn, too, he reminded her.

Now she was even more ashamed, and bit her lip. How could she have forgotten what the cat had told her, that he had lost his twin—lost her in defending her people. For the third time, how a fool?

Brighttooth stretched, and moved over beside her, and began cleaning the tears from her cheeks with a raspy tongue. Because No-Voice forgets what she herself told me.

Which is?

The enemy of my enemy is my brother.

My friend. I said, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, Chali corrected hesitantly, entering the conversation at last. Friend, brother, all the same, the cat replied, finishing off her work with a last swipe of her tongue. Friends are the family you choose, not so? I—

“You’re not gonna be alone, not unless you want to,” the young man said, aloud. “Brighttooth is right. You can join us, join any family in the clan you want. There ain’t a one of them that wouldn’t reckon themselves proud to have you as a daughter and a sister.”

There was a certain hesitation in the way he said “sister.” Something about that hesitation broke Chali’s bleak mood.

What of you? she asked. Would you welcome me as a sister?

Something— he sent, shyly, —maybe—something closer than sister?

She was so astonished that she could only stare at him. She saw that he was looking at her in a way that made her very conscious that she was sixteen winters old—in a way that no member of the kumpania had ever looked at her. She continued to stare as he gently took one of her hands in his good one. It took Brighttooth to break the spell.

Pah—two-legs! she sent in disgust. Everything is complicated with you! You need clan; here is clan for the taking. What could be simpler?

 The young man dropped her hand as if it had burned him, then began to laugh. Chali smiled, shyly, not entirely certain she had truly seen that admiration in his eyes—

“Brighttooth has a pretty direct way of seein’ things,” he said, finally. “Look, let’s just take this in easy steps, right? One, you get better. Two, we deal with when you’re in shape t’ think about.”

Chali nodded.

Three—you’ll never be alone again, he said in her mind, taking her hand in his again. Not while I’m around to have a say in it. Friend, brother—whatever. I won’t let you be lonely.

Chali nodded again, feeling the aching void inside her filling. Yes, she would mourn her dead—

But she would rejoin the living to do so.

Bibliography

Arrows of the Queen (DAW)