Hungry Heart - Book #3 - Ch. 31

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen / Chapter Fourteen / Chapter Fifteen / Chapter Sixteen / Chapter Seventeen / Chapter Eighteen / Chapter Nineteen / Chapter Twenty / Chapter Twenty-One / Chapter Twenty-Two / Chapter Twenty-Three / Chapter Twenty-Four / Chapter Twenty-Five / Chapter Twenty-Six / Chapter Twenty-Seven / Chapter Twenty-Eight / Chapter Twenty-Nine / Chapter Thirty 

Chapter Thirty-One – You Make Your Destiny

There was a flurry of activity everywhere he looked. People were getting ready to leave, just as mother had said, and with them, she along with father would go, too. Toru had asked cautiously about the trip they were getting ready for, making sure that he didn’t get caught up in a lie and then forced to admit that he had eavesdropped on his parents’ conversation. There was an unusual pain in his chest as he watched everyone doing their best to pack and prepare for the upcoming travels.

His mother had been clear that he would not come along. Toru didn’t understand. If there was some enemy that had to be vanquished, he should be there, too. Weren’t they saying that he was strong? Since he was so strong, he had to go with them, but his mother had already scolded him over insisting too much on something that he already knew the answer for.

Other preparations were also underway, but quieter. Toru had heard father talk to that stranger, someone who had come from the mountains. Although he had checked on the stranger time and time again, he had never once caught glimpse again of that horrible face without any flesh on it. Still, he saw the same thing in his dreams, and not only one time, he had roused mother from her sleep with his cries. Every time, he had been ashamed of having cried like a baby. No wonder mother and father didn’t want to take him with them since he was such a crybaby over bad dreams that weren’t real. That was what his father always told him, that bad dreams are nothing but bad dreams, and that they didn’t mean anything. To convince him, his father showed him the sun out the window, and the apple tree in the garden, and the little children playing in the street. Everything was there, in its usual place, and he had nothing to worry about.

He must have imagined that man having no face ansd that horrible smell. Not just once, he had gotten closer to him, trying to catch him by surprise and for him to reveal that fleshless face, but each time, he had seen nothing but an ordinary man, between ages, who appeared to be at father’s beck and call.

Toru snuck inside the kitchen, urged by hunger. Because of all the upheaval, no one kept regular hours for eating, not even his parents. But, as he knew how to get to food, no matter where he was, it wasn’t such a big problem for him.

The kitchen was empty at the moment, the women in charge of cooking taking a break for washing their sweat from hard labor and going back to their homes. That made it the perfect moment for him to sneak inside. Toru looked around and walked on the tip of his toes. It was better to be in human form to reach the high table on which some cookies lay in a bowl, much to his delight. He grabbed one and stuffed it in his mouth, then he reached for another. He would first eat enough to calm his growling belly and then put some in his pockets to have them for later. When mother asked him if he was hungry, he would say yes and get some more food, too, without her ever suspecting that he had eaten plenty before.

He chewed on the cookie, wanting to make the sweet taste last longer.

“Is it customary here, at Nelsikkar, to steal food?”

The voice coming from a shadowy corner of the big kitchen made him stop. By how it sounded, it belonged to an old man. His nostrils flared. His human didn’t have a strong sense of smell, and that was why he had missed that someone was in there.

“I’m Toru. I can eat all the food here,” he said, decided that he wouldn’t let a stranger stop him from filling his belly with cookies, if that was what he wanted.

“Toru,” the stranger said. “Aneros’ and Raine’s son.”

Who was this man who dared to speak his parents’ names so casually like he knew them?

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Come closer, Toru. I haven’t seen you since you were born.”

Toru grabbed a couple of cookies and put them in the pocket of his vest. No matter what the stranger thought, it was his right to eat everything he could find unguarded. He walked over to the corner, and noticed an old man sitting on a bench flush against the wall. The stranger had a thick cane and he was resting both his hands on it. There was something about him that Toru couldn’t understand. Although he had asked for him to come closer, the stranger wasn’t looking at him.

“I’m here,” he said.

The stranger moved his head in his direction, but his eyes were still looking somewhere over Toru’s head. “I’m glad to hear that you have grown up a lot during the last years. Any moment now, and you’ll be as tall as your father, I heard.”

That made Toru’s chest fill with pride, but he couldn’t accept a lie, no matter how flattering. The old man seemed kind, and he had a long beard that rested over a modest garment that seemed to be made from a single sheet of dark fabric that hung loose to the ground. Over the robe, he wore something like a coat that appeared to be made from thick, stiff material. As footwear, he had a pair of coarse shoes, nothing like the ones from supple smooth leather Toru wore.

“Can’t you see me?” he asked. “I barely reach father’s shoulder,” he lied.

The old man laughed. “I can’t see you, Toru. I’m blind.”

Toru frowned. Blind people couldn’t see. “But you said that you haven’t seen me since I was born.”

“My eyes hadn’t yet given up on me completely by that time,” the old man explained.

Toru nodded thoughtfully and put his hand in his pocket, his fingers gripping the cookies. He took one and brought it close to the old man’s hands. He took one of them and placed the cookie in the stranger’s palm. “Here,” he said. “Mother says I shouldn’t eat cookies before dinner.”

The old man laughed again and began munching on the cookie. He ate slowly, as he seemed to have only a few teeth left. “It is a delicious cookie,” he said.

“Who are you?” Toru asked again.

“My name is Torgar. I hail from the mountains.”

“From where father came?”

“Yes.”

Toru looked the man up and down. His clothes were darker, thicker, and heavier than what was usually worn in Nelsikkar. It had to be because of the cold weather they had there. “A man came from there a few days ago. Did you come with him?”

“No,” Torgar replied. “I have been traveling lately, and I’ve wanted to come here for a while now.”

“Everybody’s going somewhere,” Toru explained. Maybe Torgar had expected to be welcomed properly and spend a few quiet days here, but there was no chance of that with everyone up and packing.

“As expected.”

“Why did you come here? Did you talk to father?”

“Only in passing. He was happy to see me, which makes this old man happy, too.”

Toru didn’t know what else to ask the stranger, but he seemed so calm that Toru wanted to spend some more time in his company.

“Sit by my side, Toru,” Torgar encouraged him.

He took a place by the man’s right.

“Your parents love you very much. Always remember that,” Torgar said.

“They say I’m strong, but they don’t want to take me with them, to beat--” He stopped in time, before revealing more than he should.

Torgar rested his hands on the cane, leaning forward. He was looking somewhere in front of him, only that now Toru understood that he had to be more absorbed with something he remembered or could only see with the eyes of his mind. Toru didn’t quite get it how someone’s mind had eyes, but he had heard people saying that, so it had to be true.

“There is a war raging,” Torgar said with a weary sigh. “Anyone with half a head should run and hide. Released upon this world and vengeful, that is what it is.”

Toru didn’t quite understand what Torgar was saying. “Tigers are strong,” he argued. “Mother and father will win the war.”

Torgar remained silent.

“They will,” Toru insisted.

“It would be better for them to run and hide like everyone else,” Torgar replied.

“Tigers aren’t cowards,” Toru said again.

“No, they’re not,” Torgar admitted. “It’s counting on it, it is.”

Again that it that Toru didn’t know what to make of. “What will happen? Are you one of those people who can tell destiny?”

“No, I’m not,” Torgar said. “And I don’t believe in destiny beyond duty.”

“What does that mean?” Toru leaned toward the old man.

One of Torgar’s hands let go of the cane to take him by the shoulders. “It means that the stars are allowed to draw your duty for you, but how you come to accomplish it, that is up to you.”

Toru liked that. It meant that he had freedom. Maybe he didn’t have to listen to boring lessons and learn how to stay still. Maybe he could do his duty by running around as fast as he could and eating delicious steak.

“Can I eat a lot of meat and still do my duty?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Of course,” Torgar replied and laughed.

That was an answer that pleased him much. Toru felt like he could trust the old man with everything. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to ask. “Do you think people can see things that aren’t there? Like imagine them, but as if they see them with their own eyes? And realize later that they are mistaken?”

Torgar seemed to ponder his answer this time. “Was it something you saw, Toru? What did you see?”

“I thought I saw a scary thing,” he admitted in a low voice. For reasons unknown, he didn’t want anyone to overhear him while talking about that strange thing he believed he had seen.

“What scary thing? Have you told your parents?”

“No. They’re very busy. And they would say that it isn’t real.” Maybe no grown-up would believe him, and he had said too much.

However, Torgar’s hand on his shoulder was assuring and warm. “You can say it to me. I promise I will think about it.”

Toru twiddled his thumbs. “This man that came from the mountains,” he began.

“Yes. What about him?”

“Do you know him?”

“I know his name. Your father told me that he’s still here, ready to guide you and the others on the path toward the mountains.” Torgar waited for him to speak again. “What is bothering you about this man, Toru?”

“I saw him at the stables, the night he arrived.” Toru knew that he would have to choose his words carefully if he wanted Torgar to believe him or at least explain why he had seen that. “He didn’t know I was hiding there,” he added, letting his voice drop to a whisper. “And he turned… and he had no face.”

“No face?” Torgar asked.

“There was no flesh.” Toru caught his own cheeks into his palms. “Nothing but clean bone underneath. Like he was dead. And for a long time.” He had learned something about how worms devoured the flesh once someone died from one of his tutors. He had been scared of that, too, but tigers weren’t cowards. That was why he didn’t tell his parents anything about the things that scared him and came to him in his dreams to scare him even more. He was strong and growing stronger.

“Did you notice anything else  about him?” Torgar asked.

“Do you believe me?” Toru turned to look at the man to search for signs that it was true that Torgar did believe him.

“You are a very gifted tiger, Toru,” the old man said. “I would never disregard anything you say, no matter on what grounds.”

Toru nodded. “There was also a very bad smell coming from him. I saw a dead horse once. It smelled bad like that.”

Torgar seemed lost in thought. “Did he see you, hiding in the stables?”

“I don’t think so. And I must have thought I saw that he had no face. When father came to talk to him, he had a normal face, like everyone else. And the bad smell was gone. I just… imagined it, right?”

Torgar squeezed his shoulder. “It is possible. Maybe you ate a bit too much before going to the stables?”

Toru nodded. That could be it. Mother said that going to bed on a full stomach could give him bad dreams. Now that this old man also thought that he had imagined that, he was free to feel more at ease.

“I will walk you to the mountains, too,” Torgar said. “What do you say about the two of us traveling together? Would you like that? I can tell you so many stories from your father’s childhood.”

“I would like that,” Toru confirmed. That was another thing he hadn’t told anyone, that he was scared about traveling to the mountains without his parents. While he knew some of the maids and servants, as well as other nobles that would go with them, being without mother and father was too new to him. But now he had Torgar. Even if he was an old man, he seemed strong in other ways, and he hadn’t laughed about Toru imagining things such as men without faces.

***

Duril hurried to the place where he had seen Varg falling. Around him, hell had broken loose. An unseen force was battering against the walls, sending stones everywhere. People were crying out in pain and fear, while some portions of the walls were coming down. Clutching the boy on his arm with everything he had, he tried to cut a path toward his fallen friend. He had been the one to tell them to stop and save everyone. He had been the one to keep them there, when they could have gone to stop the fires in The Dregs.

An overwhelming feeling of guilt engulfed his mind, as he jumped over fallen people and rubble. Where had his mind been? How could he ignore the most important thing to do, the most practical to stop that madness?

And now, the walls were coming down on them, with the force of a thousand thunders. Around them, something akin to a storm broke loose. Those people he had struggled to move to the walls were now falling from the top, crashing against the ground with terrible cries and the sound of bones breaking and bodies colliding with what lay below.

The boy held him by the neck with both his hands. He was a brave little man, not crying, not letting out a sound at the hell around them. But he kept his face buried in the crook of Duril’s neck, and it was better that he didn’t see anything of what was happening.

“Varg! Varg!” he called out, his eyes on his friend who lay there on the ground, motionless, as if the life had been knocked out of him.

Claw was there already, leaning over Varg’s prone body and lifting him to hike him up in his arms. Only then, Duril saw the gash on Varg’s temple, oozing blood.

“Let’s take him into one of these houses,” Claw shouted at him.

Even without looking, Claw knew he was there. The bearshifter’s keen sense of smell helped him in many dire situations. Now was one of them. Duril’s heart bled at the cries of despair around him, but he was, indeed, helpless, in face of that invisible force tearing the walls apart.

He arrived at Claw’s side just in time. The bearshifter turned suddenly and shielded them all, and then he let out a pained grunt. “Go, go, go,” he urged Duril. “No time to waste!”

They disappeared in one of the houses lining the main street in the nick of time. A wailing wind made the door jump off its hinges when Duril pulled it to let all of them in. Still, even without a door to shut out the world outside, they were sheltered. Not the same thing could be said about the thousands lying in the street, some of them still moving. For a moment, Duril took in the magnitude of the disaster, his heart threatening to pull itself out of his chest.

They could only do so much. They could only save… what kind of saviors were they? Not much of any kind, he thought bitterly. The boy on his arm squeezed him tightly.

“What on heaven and earth is happening?” Claw mumbled while he checked Varg’s injury.

Duril shook his head. Maybe there was little he could do, but that didn’t mean that he should give up on that little bit only because there wasn’t more in his power. He gestured for Claw to take the child from him and murmured words of encouragement to the little one so that he could kneel by Varg’s side and check his head wound. Right away, he tore the hem of his shirt to create a bandage of sorts. He didn’t even have water to clean the wound.

“Do you think Toru is all right?” he asked in a meek voice.

“He’s protected by those magic urchins.”

“We mind being called that.”

At Moth’s voice, Duril raised his head and saw him and Pie stepping inside the house.

“Toru is protected,” Pie explained. “But we don’t think there is much we can do about the rest.”

“Is this the destruction described in your history books?” Claw asked, his voice a tightly wound string.

“There is nothing we can do to stop it,” Moth explained. “We’re here to protect you, as friends of our lord and master.”

“And the rest must die,” Claw said in an icy voice.

“Must, no,” Pie said and shook his head. “It is just destiny.”

“Can Toru stop this?” Duril asked. He took Varg’s hand in his. It was so cold.

“No tiger before him did anything like that,” Moth replied. “The truth is, we don’t know.”

Duril pursed his lips and turned his full attention back to his injured companion. Claw rested a hand on his shoulder. “Then, maybe, the history needs to be rewritten, as we’ve already said.”

“Toru rests after the fight with Hekastfet. Our brethren are doing our best for him to come back to his senses. And he will,” Moth said.

“What if it’s too late?” Duril asked. “What if he wakes up… to all this destruction?”

What if we’re not here anymore? What if we leave him all alone?

“He’s a tiger. He carries worlds within himself,” Pie said.

“What does that mean?” Duril asked.

“The power to destroy and create,” Pie added. It felt as if he was reciting words he didn’t know the meaning of himself.

“Entire worlds?” Duril asked.

He didn’t get to learn the answer. The roof over their heads suddenly blew away as if grabbed and thrown away by an invisible hand.

And a rain of stones descended upon their heads.

***

“Are you asleep, my child?”

Toru blinked at the sound of mother’s voice. He looked at her, and he received a warm smile. She wasn’t mad that he wasn’t yet sleeping at that hour. Raine took him into her arms and cooed into his ear words that made little sense. However, her breath was ticklish and he found himself laughing. There were so many games they played together.

“Your father and I will be away for a while. You will go see your father’s family in the mountains.”

He hid his face against her shoulder. “But it’s cold up there. Why can’t I come with you where you’re going?”

“It is not a place for a child,” his mother said gently.

“Because of the war?”

“What do you know of wars?”

“People were talking,” he lied.

“There is no war.” Why was she lying to him? “But it is dangerous.”

“I’m strong,” Toru argued. “I can bite really hard.”

“I know. Your father showed me the marks you left on his hand the other day.”

“I was just playing,” Toru said defensively. “I didn’t know it would hurt him.”

“Don’t worry. Your father heals fast. Toru, listen to me carefully. You will be in good hands with your father’s people.”

“Why do I need to be in good hands? Why can’t I just wait for you here to return?” He didn’t want to sound like a spoiled child, but he didn’t want to let go of his mother, either.

“It will be a very interesting trip. You will have a lot of fun with the other children. You will see.”

All those things didn’t answer any of his many questions. Mother was hiding something, and he could tell. “When will you come back?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“But you will come back,” Toru insisted.

“Yes.” Her answer came a moment too late to sound sincere.

Toru wanted to cry, but he wasn’t a baby anymore. “I like Torgar,” he said instead. “I want to travel with him.”

“Torgar cannot see,” his mother said. “And he’s old, so he needs to rest so that he can undertake such a long trip.”

“He’s from the mountains. He’s very strong, even if he’s blind,” Toru argued. “He can sleep all he wants in the carriage I saw some people preparing for me.” He knew that as his father’s and mother’s son, he would have a good carriage.

“Won’t you have more fun with children your age? Spending time with an old man can be quite boring.”

“He promised me that he would tell me many stories from father’s childhood,” Toru explained. His mother wanted what was best for him, but he knew he wouldn’t be bored if he traveled with Torgar, and not only because the old man would tell him stories about his father from the times when he had been a child. Torgar hadn’t dismissed him when he had told him about seeing that messenger’s face, or better said, the lack of it. Even if it was only his imagination, Torgar hadn’t thought for a moment to scold him or make him feel embarrassed because of it.

“If that is what you wish, I will not tell you no. But make sure that you ask him first. Torgar might not be too happy to travel with a child as rambunctious as you are.”

“I can be very good. I could read until we get there.” He knew some letters, and most of his studying was conducted by his tutors in speech form. He was a fast learner, they said, catching most of what he was hearing.

“Then you might become a scholar,” his mother said with a smile.

“I’m going to be a warrior, like father,” he replied, raising one fist in the air.

“I’m sure you will be,” his mother said and kissed his cheek.

***

He wiped his tears quickly when he heard someone climbing into the carriage. As much as he had wanted to show mother and father that he was strong and not a crybaby, he hadn’t been able to help it when they had said goodbye. Other children had cried, as well, and he wasn’t alone, but he was still mad at himself for not being able to keep the tears at bay.

“Am I alone in here?” Torgar asked in a playful voice.

“No, I am here.” Toru hopped from the big pillows that formed a comfortable sitting area and hurried to help the old man find his way.

Torgar took his hand and let himself be guided. “Do you know what I did just before leaving?”

“No, how could I know?” Toru asked, excited to learn more.

“I stole some candy.” Torgar put his other hand in his pocket and offered Toru a handful of brightly colored candy.

At first, Toru grabbed as many as he could in one fist, but then he realized that he was greedy, so he only picked three. Maybe Torgar didn’t mind if he got stuck with the green ones. Toru didn’t like them that much.

“Ah, we’re moving already,” Torgar said as he sat on the pillows. “Come here, Toru, and put your head in my lap. I’m going to tell you a story.”

He listened to the story intently, but the swinging of the carriage and the gentle rhythm of Torgar’s words soon lulled him to sleep.

***

Toru woke up late, or so it seemed. It was night outside, as he saw right away when he looked out the window of the carriage. He was alone, and they had stopped, probably to save the horses’ breath for the long road. Still, he had slept so much that he wasn’t sleepy anymore.

So, he snuck out, making sure to be as silent as a mouse. Torgar was probably somewhere around, and if he was, Toru planned on giving the old man a little fright, only to see how he would react. Most probably, he wouldn’t get mad. Torgar looked like the kind of man who wouldn’t get frightened easily.

The sound of words caught in his ear, carried by the wind. He shifted into his tiger and perked his ears to understand where the noise was coming from. Everyone else seemed to be sleeping, so he was curious about the only other people who didn’t care for sleep at that hour. The moon was as big as a pie and cast a gentle light over their little camp.

He made sure not to make a sound while he followed the cues offered to him by the wind. He had to walk some distance from the camp, which made him wonder if there were really people from the camp talking, or some strangers. Either way, he needed to listen in and decide for himself if it was of any interest to them, whatever they were saying.

His steps took him to a small clearing where a fire burned. He hid behind a bush and only peeked from there at the two people talking.

“How can you say that you don’t remember me?” That was the messenger with no face. Only that now, he had a face, and he didn’t smell bad, either.

“I know everyone in Niverborg,” Torgar replied. The old man was the only other person there. “And I don’t remember you.”

“You’re an old man, and you’ve been away too long,” the messenger argued. He sounded like he was trying to hide something. It made Toru wonder what that could be.

“You certainly made sure that I would not be able to ask Aneros’ of your whereabouts.”

“Aneros? Do you address your lord by his first name? I didn’t know you were so high up the ranks, old man,” the messenger hissed.

Toru scrunched up his nose. Even if the messenger didn’t appear to be a part of a nightmare, he wasn’t a nice person. He was looking down on Torgar and didn’t speak to him politely.

“When I arrived at Nelsikkar, it was not a problem for me to meet him,” Torgar replied, ignoring the other’s tone. “But as soon as I tried to get in a word with him, all of a sudden he was always busy, and it was you to bar the way every time.”

“Me? You’re an old blind fool,” the messenger hissed again.

“You wanted to meet me here tonight, to tell me something. What is it that you want to tell me?” Torgar said. He moved his head in the direction where Toru was hiding. He almost made Toru think that he could see him.

“You’re an old man. In a few days’ time, we’ll get close to the pass of Winterhelm. It would be better if the lord’s son traveled with more able-bodied adults, not you. The pass is treacherous. A lot of things can happen.”

“You’re asking how I can tell that I don’t know you from Niverborg,” Torgar said, suddenly changing the subject. “You don’t smell like someone from the Itrusk tribe.”

“Your eyes are gone, so you think your nose got better?” the messenger hissed again. “By the way you insisted on trying to get close to the lord during these last days, I’d say your behavior is that of a spy.”

Torgar didn’t appear surprised by the accusation. “I believe you are the spy. Somebody saw your true face.”

“Who? Was it someone as blind as you?”

“No. Someone with good eyes, the kind that can see inside one’s soul.”

“And? What is my true face supposed to look like?”

“You no longer have one.” Torgar’s words cut through the air like a sharp blade.

Toru started upon hearing that. But Torgar had said that it wasn’t true!

“Your parlor tricks might amuse a bored lady or two, spellweaver. But they have no place here,” the messenger said. “Be careful, old man. I don’t intend to jeopardize my mission for the sake of someone like you.”

Suddenly, the messenger pulled a long blade from underneath his cape and moved so fast that Toru didn’t have time even to scream. The blade was buried inside Torgar’s chest.

“Run, child, run,” Torgar yelled, his hands on the blade, struggling to pull it out of his chest. He mumbled something under his breath, and the blade came out.

Toru was ready to pounce, but the blade cut through the air again and this time made the messenger’s head fly from his shoulders and land somewhere in the dark behind him.

He hurried to Torgar’s side. The old man was holding his chest. “Toru, I told you to run.” His voice was growing weak.

“Where?” he asked as his tears fell freely. “I don’t want to run. I must bring someone! You’re hurt!”

“He’s coming back. I only closed his evil eyes for a moment. You were right, Toru, about the messenger. I tried to warn your father… I have no more time left. You’re destined to great things, beloved child. You make your destiny. Remember this. But run now and forget. Forget until the moment comes to remember.”

The old man made a gesture through the air and touched his forehead.

Toru cried. “I don’t want to leave you,” he keened.

“Quick, now, Toru. Don’t let it be in vain. Run into the night. The morning will always be there for you, on the other side.”

The sound of cracking bones alerted him that the messenger Torgar should have killed earlier was coming back to life.

“You’ll be strong enough one day,” Torgar said and caressed his head. “Live to become that, for all of us.”

Cavernous laughter made Toru’s hair stand on end. Torgar whispered some stranger words again and rose from the ground in an unnatural manner. He put himself between that spawn of evil and Toru.

“Now, run, child, run,” Torgar said.

And Toru did. When he looked back, he saw Torgar’s body splitting into a million pieces, flying everywhere.

He ran as fast as he could.

TBC

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