Another episode: Dawn.

Stone

Chapter 29 – Jason’s moment

It was two days later, at story time before bed, when the dogs alerted again. “Keep them from barking,” Stone ordered, and Rayla started to massage Daisy’s muzzle. Jason, seeing what his mother did, imitated her with Steel. The dogs growled, but did not bark. Stone lifted Emily from his lap and stood, reaching for Pate in her hiding nook.

As soon as he had a hand on the sword, Stone went into battle mode. Everything went into wireframe mode, in slow motion. He flung open the door, and saw a man-shape lurking just outside. He swung the blade around to slice off the man’s head, when suddenly the shape went red – the symbol for stop. Then, just as the blade was about to connect with his head, it twisted, and hit the man hard, with the flat of the blade. There were one, two sickening thunks: one as the blade hit the head, and the other when the head hit the side of the caravan, rocking it on its wheels.

«What did you do?» Stone asked Pate.

«It is Jason,» the sword replied. «I couldn’t hurt the boy.»

Stone simply picked up the unconscious man, and carried him into the caravan, dropping him on the floor. It was a full-grown man, wearing dark trousers, and nothing else. He was also black, as black as Jason who stared at seeing someone with his color for the first time in his life.

«Well, I thought it was Jason,» Pate apologized.

«His birth father?» Stone suggested.

«Yes, that must be it,» the sword replied. «He seemed so much like Jason. They must be related.»

“This is Jason’s father,” Stone said to the others. “We need to find out why he is lurking around here.”

“You are my father,” Jason said, hugging Stone as he bent to loop a chain around the foot of the unconscious man.

“Not from birth, Jason,” Stone said. “This must be the man that created you with your original mother.”

“She was my mother, before Mommy,” the boy said. “But he was never my father. He ran away.”

“Well now he is back,” Rayla said as she washed the man’s dark face with a wetted cloth. He showed signs of coming to and kicked his feet, finding the one in a chain.

“No slave,” the man mumbled, and then his eyes opened slightly. “I will not be a slave. No Kithren man will submit to slavery. You can kill me, but not chain me.”

“Relax, you are not a slave,” Stone said. “The chain is because you were lurking outside my home, and I intend to find out why. If your answers please me, I will remove the chain.”

“Remove it now, Master,” the man said. “I came for the boy. He is my son.”

“I am not,” Jason said. He had gotten his hunting knife from its hiding place, and was holding it menacingly.

“And I am not your Master,” Stone said. “You can call me Captain, or Stone, which is my name.”

The black man hesitated. To exchange names in the Kithren culture was significant. You could not be an enemy with someone who you have exchanged names with. Finally he made a decision: “My name is Kalosun. I have come for the boy.”

“And the girl too?” Stone looked at Emily.

“No she is not my daughter,” the man said. “She is the spawn of my woman and a slaver. She is a slave-spawn whore.”

“She is not,” Jason said fiercely, and he attacked the man with his knife. Just as the blade was about to touch the man, he clasped his hands together on the sides of the blade, and prevented the young boy from thrusting. He flicked the blade aside, to Jason’s wonderment.

“Calm down, Jason,” Stone said, as the boy scrambled to get his blade back from where it fell. “I don’t think the boy wants to go with you.”

“He must. He is of age when he needs to learn about his Kithren heritage,” Kalosun said. “He can learn nothing here from you white people.”

“That is not true,” Stone said. “He felled an adult boar at age six, alone and without help until it was time to clean the carcass. He is seven now, and is handy with a knife and bow. When his strength comes in he will be a mighty fighter.”

The black man’s eyes widened at learning about the boar. “A true warrior. But he needs also to learn about the ways of his people: the stories, the true religion, and much more. I will teach him.”

“You will not take him away without his permission,” Stone insisted. “You can teach him much of what you speak of without taking him away.”

“It would be better if he left with me,” Kalosun said. “But you are right. I can teach him much here. We would need to go on side trips, perhaps a night or two. Is that possible?”

“Not until I am sure of you. We will travel soon, and I cannot waste time chasing you to recover my son,” Stone said. “And if you do run, we will catch you. And you will not receive mercy from my sword a second time.”

“I will make you an oath,” the man said. “Kithra is sleeping now, and Mala is but a crescent, so the oath cannot be as strong as a Kith-oath. But I swear by Mala in the sky that I will not take the boy away, without your permission.”

“I have heard that Kithren oaths are strong,” Stone said. “But I will leave you in the chain until you swear by your sun. Do you accept?”

“I do. But I am not a slave. I am merely your prisoner.”

“True. But what to do with you? I am not going to allow you to sleep in the caravan until morning, oath or no oath. Perhaps in the shed,” Stone said.

“I don’t care where I am placed, I have sworn, and will be where you leave me in the morning. You and your whore can do as you like.”

Jason did not know exactly what that word meant, but he knew it was a bad word to say about a woman. He again thrust his knife at the man, saying “My mother is not that word.”

Kalosun again made his effort to slap the knife aside, but this time Jason twisted it as he thrust and the man slapped onto the blades, and not the flats. He screamed a bit as the blade dug in deeply due to his own actions, but quickly stifled it. Rayla screamed as well, when she saw the blood pouring from the man’s hands. She grabbed a tin basin and put it under his bleeding hands, to keep most of the blood from her floor.

“Jason, what did you do?” she screamed.

“Mostly he did it himself,” Stone noted. “Do you have some rags to wrap his cuts?”

She tossed one rag, an old flour sack to Stone, and grabbed another herself. They tore the rags into strips, and wrapped Kalosun’s hands, with the white rags quickly turning red.

“My son is a warrior,” he said proudly, clenching his teeth through the pain.

Jason was white as a ghost. He had never hurt anyone so badly. He had been in fights before, protecting his sister, but had never drawn so much blood. He wondered if the man might die. Before he had never done much more than bloody a nose. This was serious.

It took several minutes before the wounds stopped leaking so badly, and Rayla opened the bandages. They were seeping blood, but not heavily any more. She stood and got a bottle from the kitchen. “This is liquor,” she said. “Neither Stone or I drink, but we keep this in case we have guests that do. It is going to hurt, but it will prevent infection.”

She poured a thin stream of the liquid along the cuts, and Kalosun winced with the pain, closing his eyes tightly. Tears appeared at the corners of his eyes, and when she was done, and was rewrapping the hands with new cloths, he looked at Jason and said: “A Kittren warrior never cries, in spit of how much something hurts. This is something you will need to do, although hopefully not through a knife cut.”

“This changes things,” Rayla said. “I don’t want him in the shed like this. He needs to be close enough to get us if things go bad.”

“But not in the caravan,” Stone insisted,

“What about underneath? He can kick the floor to wake us, if he needs help. I have a few extra blankets.”

“I don’t need blankets,” Kalosun insisted.

“Yes you do. It gets cold at night this time of year, and you have lost a lot of blood. You need water too.” She handed him a mug of water, and he drank it, and a second one she got for him. “Jason, fill up a canteen for him. He will need water tonight. Don’t put the cap on too tightly… he will have to open it with his teeth.

Finally she let Stone took the man outside and he fastened the chain to the axel, and made up a little bed for him. Normally a person could easily unfasten the small chain, but the man no longer had working fingers, so he was easily secured.

When Stone got back inside, Rayla had put the kids to bed … it was actually early in the morning now. Stone leaned over Jason bunk and hugged his son, who was shaking. “You did nothing wrong, son. I was about to hit him for his vile comments.” He held his son until the shaking stopped, and the boy started to fall asleep.

“So much blood,” the boy said as he fell asleep.

“This changes everything,” Stone said softly. “Do we take this man with us on our trip, or let him roam the town.”

“We have to take him,” Rayla said. “He won’t be able to use those hands for weeks, maybe months. We will need to look after him until he is well. And there is nothing wrong with Jason learning a bit about his culture.”

“Emily too,” Stone said. “She is half Kithren and deserves to know some things, even if the man is not willing to teach her.”

The next morning Stone woke earlier than he really wanted to. He found the man sleeping under the caravan, and Jason and he went to the bakeries to get breakfast and more of the tasty meat pies for lunch. When they got back, they woke Kalosun, who seemed embarrassed that he had slept so long.

“I will make the oath to Kithra,” he said, looking at the rising sun. “I want the boy to watch.”

“Emily too,” Stone insisted. “You must teach her about her heritage as well. I know she is not your child, but she is one of your people.”

The black man did not take that well. “I cannot take her hunting and gathering,” he said. “That is man’s work. A woman should teach her what she needs to know.”

“There are no Kithren women around here,” Stone said. “If we meet one in our travels, you might be able to let her teach Emily, but until then, you teach both, or none.” Kalosun didn’t look happy at his options, but eventually agreed, and Stone called Emily out.

The oath was not long or complicated, but Kalosun faced the son and promised to teach Kithren ways to Jason and Emily and to not try to steal either of them away.

A breakfast followed, with Kalosun insisting he needed no help to feed himself. Of course he did, and then he insisted pompously that he was not hungry. Rayla also insisted, and force-fed him a spoonful of oatmeal. After two or three bites, he stopped fighting her, and eventually cleaned up a bowl nearly as large as Stone’s. The black man was proud of himself for being able to eat the bun from the bakery on his own, holding it between bandaged hands as he tore off pieces.

“I need to look at your wounds,” she said after the meal was over. “I may need to do stitches to hold the pieces tight so they can heal. It will always scar, and if the ligaments are cut he may never get full use of them.”

“Shouldn’t we take him to the healers?” Stone suggested.

“No. I don’t want the whole town knowing that my son injured someone with a knife. He is only seven.”

She undid the bandages, which were bloodstained on the insides, but had not leaked through like the first ones. She pulled the cuts apart, and dribbled more liquor on the wounds, and then took a needle and a sturdy thread, and started sewing the cuts together. Kalosun grimaced with closed eyes again, but did not cry out through the hour-long procedure. When both hands were sewn, Rayla again tenderly wrapped his hands again.

“Thank you,” the man said. “And I am sorry for what I said. You are a good woman.”

“Your welcome,” she said not realizing how hard it was for the man to apologize. Stone knew that to his people men did not apologize, since it was a sign of weakness.

Rayla made him lie down on the caravan floor. Stone, Rayla and Emily cuddled on the parent’s bed, which had not been put up for the day. Jason was sent on an errand: to see if the second caravan was ready, and to have it delivered if it was. O’Breyne went with the boy to drive it back.

It was after lunch when they heard the sounds of the new caravan arriving. The family had finished lunch, with Rayla again feeding her patient a meat pie. She had two warming in the oven for O’Breyne and Jason. The rest of the afternoon was spent loading the new caravan to get ready to depart in two days, when the other wagons in the train would be ready.

Tonight Kalosun would sleep on the floor of the new wagon: even if he had not said an oath, he would be unable to leave the family while he needed them to feed him. The kids would spend another night with their parents. Once they were on the road, they would sleep in the new caravan with the dogs, and O’Breyen and the new driver sleeping underneath. Kalosun would sleep on the floor of the old caravan.