Chapter 56. Stranger

zuri watched her footprints sink and fill with water moments before a thin veil of sea foam was tossed over the golden sand. It was a sparkling day and for a moment she allowed herself to forget her true purpose and become entranced by the play of light on the clear azure sea. The cool moist wind felt good as it played over her golden brown skin and she drew down her veil and let it scamper through her ebon hair. In another hour the breeze would die down and the stifling heat of late afternoon would take its place.

She spun around a few times, enjoying the flare of her deep red gown. Tahar’s braying call disturbed her reverie and she drew her veil back in place and stalked along the beach with her scythe poised for combat.

“Azuuuuuuuri,” he called, closer this time. Honestly, could she not have a few moments of peace? She sighed and waited for him. Headman Kehtah insisted that all patrols were done in pairs and somehow she had drawn the short straw and gotten Tahar for a partner. The young ranger slid down the sandy bank, emerging from the dense stand of scrub and skidding to a halt beside her.

“I asked you to wait!” he moaned peevishly.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“I had to water the plants!”

She rolled her eyes at his crassness. Disgusting boy. Idly she wondered which of the gods had assigned this test of patience to her. He reminded her of a half-grown puppy. His hands and feet were too large for his spindly limbs and he had a faint trace of baby fat lingering around his belly. Her friend Najet thought he was adorable. Of course, Najet had the good fortune to have Hassan as her scouting partner. Too bad they could not trade.

“What’s that?” Tahar barked, trotting cautiously ahead of her.

She squinted vaguely at the two lumps lying in the surf. Probably seaweed. How like Tahar to get excited about stinky rotting seaweed. He would probably attempt to throw it at her and she would be compelled to box him around the ears for messing up her favorite gown.

“It’s a corpse!” Tahar shouted as if he had won an award. Azuri trotted after him, realizing as she approached that he was partly right. One lump resolved into a man, the other was an animal of some kind. Both were soaked to the bone and ragged. She raised her voice to stop Tahar but was too late to prevent him from wedging a foot under the man’s side and making him flop onto his back. The corpse abruptly choked and moaned causing Tahar to squeal and jump away, leaving her to defend him. Little coward.

She grasped the man under his armpits and dragged him up onto the dry sand. He had a light graceful frame despite being slightly taller than she. His pale skin had a golden tone and his face had delicate feline features. He was clad in leathers with an archer’s bracer strapped to his right arm. A quiver of sodden arrows and a black lacquered bow were crushed beneath him.

“Azuri! Watch out!”

She rose, grasping her scythe as the beast stirred and dragged itself wearily onto the beach to drop exhausted beside the man. It was then she realized his hands were bound behind his back and the great cat was muzzled. The beast panted loudly and peered at her through hooded eyes as if to say it was too tired to protest. She gingerly pulled a knife from her belt and cut the coarse rope from the man’s wrists.

“Tahar, go get help. This man needs care.”

She watched him scamper off with an expression resembling relief. The man coughed again and opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sky before rolling slowly onto his side and attempting to rise. Blood soaked the ragged leathers on his back as he strained to his knees.

“Ahai,” she said gently, “I have sent for help. Rest now.”

He lay still for a moment, considering this.

“Where am I?” he rasped.

“Kodlonu,” she said, noting he appeared to have no idea where that was, “Mehtani Keys.”

He closed his eyes and lay still. She thought for a moment he had passed out.

“Hugo?” he asked.

“The big cat?”

He nodded.

“He’s lying next to you. Do you have a name?”

“Gunter Svenka.”

“Did the corsairs do this to you?”

He considered this for a moment before lifting a hand to rub his blood-matted hair and a lump concealed beneath it.

“I think so… I don’t remember. I was in a strange city… I’m not in Cantha, am I?”

She shook her head. He groaned softly and pulled himself to his knees. He patted his belt for a pouch that was no longer there.

“Are corsairs the smelly pirate types with the long boats?”

“Yes,” she replied, amused by his precise assessment. He stared vaguely at his hands and clothes, then turned to look at his companion. Azuri had never seen a tiger before but her father had spoken of them in his abundant tales. She knew she should not be staring, but the man was so unusual looking and his eyes were more animal and human, she decided. Her father had also spoken of Cantha, but she had always assumed they looked just like her people, copper and bronze and long of limb.

He knelt before the tiger and stroked its flank, then gathered his hands behind its nape and removed the muzzle. Running his hands over its white and black fur, he murmured softly to it, apologizing for its difficult journey. The beasts sky blue eyes flashed with anger but it sat back on its haunches and rested, its tail sweeping over the sand in irritation.

By that time, half the village seemed to have arrived with Tahar bouncing forth in front of Kehtah. The tall man gleamed in his billowing white robes, stark against his mahogany skin. He leaned heavily on his walking stick and came at last to stand over them, his remaining wisps of pale hair flowing about his large ears like dandelion flock. She saw her father and a couple of her cousins were among the throng. Truthfully, she was related in some way to everyone in the village. That was why Gunter was so curious, he was so clearly an outsider.

Her father strode to the headman’s side and said something in a strange tongue, the syllables clipped and buzzing at times like cicadas. Gunter lifted his head and nodded, then replied briefly in the same fashion. He wobbled to his feet and almost stepped on his bow. Frowning, he picked it up and studied it as if he had never seen it before.

“He is from Cantha,” her father announced to the fascinated stares of the gathered village. To her horror, her little cousin Bebas had walked up to the man and grabbed his hand to examine it. This inspired several of the children to do the same and the poor confused stranger looked aghast at them, uncertain what to do.

“I speak your tongue,” he said, surrendering to the children as they now ringed him. He gasped and backed away quickly when one of them lifted his shirt and pointed to his navel. The adults chuckled but called the inquisitive children off of him while the man turned an amusing shade of iboga flower red. Azuri giggled in spite of herself. Meanwhile, his tiger had slipped away and was watching the proceedings grimly from the deep shadows of the forest.

“Since you speak this man’s native tongue and know the ways of his kin, perhaps he should stay with your family,” Kehtah said to her father, his words drawing murmurs of agreement. Azuri’s father was a trader, widely traveled, one of the few who had been more than a day away from their home. She longed to go with him one day. It annoyed her that when he was home, he was oddly disinterested in the exciting things that lay beyond Kodlonu. When she pestered him sometimes he would answer that they lived in the best place in the world and he desired no other.

How was she to know what was best if she never got to leave? The stranger fascinated her and she was excited that he would be staying with them. Perhaps he would speak of his world and the places he had been. She could practice the little bits of Canthan her father had taught her during their walks along the golden shore.

Gunter looked mildly overwhelmed as he was engulfed by the curious villagers and herded toward their little circle of huts that lay within the protection of an ancient wall. Someone had gathered up his waterlogged bow and quiver and she sensed he was now casting about for his tiger. She saw a faint flicker of white as the beast retreated into the shadows of the law scrub. Rangers often had a strong bond with wild creatures and some spoke of the pain of being separated. She hoped Gunter would be well and not suffer any more. His clothes were smeared with blood and she worried the corsairs had been cruel to him.

When they reached the village, the headman bade them leave the man alone and let Azuri’s father take care of him. Gunter was limping and pale and when Azuri followed him past the blanket door of their little hut, her father turned to her.

“Go fetch Migeira, tell her we need her herb craft.”

She nodded obediently as Gunter sat dully beside their cold hearth. No sooner had she stepped outside than did she see the old woman poling toward her with her ornate feathered staff. She bowed and held the blanket aside, following the hunched bustling figure into the hut.

“I came as soon as I could,” she huffed, “This is him? Strange, he is so pale. Tell him to take off his shirt.”

Her father grinned as the stranger obediently removed the garment, revealing that he understood every word. Migeira hissed in sympathetic pain upon the wounds she saw on the man’s back. Azuri rose to see what the fuss was about but her father waved her away. His brows were turned down with concern and surprise. Migeira chanted softly and azure energies burned from her palms as she touched the man. The dullness left his eyes, replaced now with fear and confusion.

Now they questioned him, gently inquiring about how he had arrived and where he was from. Beyond the simplest questions he stammered and grew silent, embarrassed at his inability to answer them. He was lost with little more than a name and his animal friend. His most recent memory was of arriving in a flash of light in a big city and being attacked and tied up and shoved onto a boat by some corsairs.

“I wish I remembered more,” the man murmured, as alarmed as they by his lack of memories.

“Perhaps after he has rested a while things will come back, “Migeira said, urging her father to cease his questioning. She ground up a mixture of herbs and mixed them with palm wine, urging him to drink it, which the man did. Gunter thanked the woman as she rose and proffered him a bow.

“Azuri, make a bed for this man. Find him a place to lie down.”

Nodding, she tried to hide her enthusiasm. Normally she hated such tasks much preferring to be outside defending her home. Her father was busy, as usual, but as she laid out fresh blankets for Gunter, she noticed he was shoving things into his long journey pack. Azuri hated it when he left, often protesting when he spoke of it or begging him to take her with him. It was unusual for him to leave so suddenly.

“Father, where do you go?”

“You are the oldest, take care of your brothers and sisters while I am gone. I should return within the week.”

Gunter numbly curled into blankets as she stood staring at her hurrying father. Alarm pricked her skin and she bit her lip, wondering if there was danger.

“Father…”

“Daughter, I will not trouble you or anyone else with my concerns. Take care of the stranger, treat him as you would any guest. In the morning he will go stay with Migeira.”

It was no good arguing with the man, he had an iron will. She followed him wordlessly to the door and received his embrace numbly, watching him now as his lean form vanished through the gates.