Tenets of War Read online

  Chapter 2

  "I'm supposed to come down here and buy Miss Violet some crinkle paper," Tenet said to the jovial storekeeper, Hans.

  "Paper snowflakes?" Hans asked with a grin.

  Tenet leaned on the counter. "How'd you guess?"

  "My own Petta went through reams of the stuff when she had Mrs. Dinty for a teacher." The large man reached around behind his counter, then came up with a small packet tied with a string. "They used up most of it up to the school over the winter, but we just so happen to have a few sheets left."

  Tenet nodded. "I'll take it. Also, do you have any cheap cloth? Maybe a scratchy wool you'd discount for me just to get rid of?" He grinned in a charming, hopeful smile that set Hans to laughing.

  "Crinkle paper and wool? Don't tell me the missus is starting spring cleaning already?"

  Tenet pulled a face. "Good god, man. We just went through winter, not a parallel universe!"

  Hans really laughed then. He liked Tenet, liked the boy a lot. And he had a powerful respect born of more than a little fear for Tenet's wife. He often teased Tenet about his wife's womanly skills in the house, and he did it plenty loud enough for the woman in question to hear as she stood just outside the door and guarded Tenet. He always wondered about that, but never asked. Someday the boy would tell him, or someday he would not. Tenet was a happy man who paid his debts upfront, never caused trouble, and always respected the Celtist ways. Hans had to point out to more than one gossipy woman in town that Mrs. Lorne did, too. She even fed half the town through the winter, even though most didn't know their meat came from her hands. If the young couple had their secrets, Hans could live with that.

  Hans glanced to the doorway, expecting to see Mrs. Lorne's shoulder at the edge of opening like usual. When he didn't, he raised a bushy eyebrow at Tenet. "Are you shopping alone today then?"

  Tenet nodded. "Yes. My wife's fitting bricks into the fireplace. I just came into town because I promised Violet."

  "So you are sprucing the place up, then."

  "Yes. But I'll be the one making the curtains, if you've got any material."

  Hans sighed and shook his head. He had long since given up lecturing the boy on man duties. The pair was happy, happier than many he knew, and if they had to swap jobs to make that happen, what was the harm? It wasn't as if they were breaking the codes of the septad. Now, if Mirvena could ever actually convince them to convert, it may be a different story. "I do have some fabric, but it's horribly ugly."

  Tenet shrugged, thinking of the torn, ragged flaps of fabric that currently covered the windows. "As long as it doesn't have holes in it, I'll take a look."

  Hans called for his runner, and when the boy appeared, he ordered him to get the fabric from the store room. When he returned, Tenet frowned. The material truly was hideous. There were cross stripes of yellow and brown that decorated a deep red back ground. Hans saw his face and let out a bark of laughter. "I warned you. Never say I didn't!"

  "Where did you come up with something like this?" Tenet touched the wool and almost cringed it was so rough.

  "Traveling salesman up from Nortaberg," Hans said, shaking his head in disgust. "I got a good deal on some tweed, but in order to get that price I had to take this off his hands. I thought one of the elder women would use it for something, but I guess I thought they were blinder than they really are." His eyes twinkled and his cheeks were rosy red.

  "How much is there?"

  "Oh, I'd say about fifteen yards, by the look."

  That sounded like enough. "And how much does it cost?"

  "I tell you what. I'll give you the whole lot and the paper with it for two coins."

  It was more than fair, even if the material was quite possibly the ugliest thing Tenet had ever seen, and he quickly shook on the deal. Hans wrapped the material in brown paper, thanking Tenet up and down for finally taking it off his hands. "Just don't let your wife blame me when she sees it!"

  Tenet laughed and waved goodbye before heading out the door. He liked the old shop keeper, and noticed the man's limp had worsened. He'd have to subtly ask if Hans wanted him to have a look and see if there was something he could treat. He guessed the man's age at well over sixty, and perhaps that alone was what slowed him down. Still, if there was anything Tenet could do to make life easier, he'd do it in a minute. Hans was one of the few people in Ogden that truly accepted Scarab, and that meant the world to Tenet.

  Tenet was just securing the packages into the side pocket of his personal transport vehicle when he caught sight of Mordin walking across the street. His hands automatically clenched and the anger and fear he felt the day before bubbled inside. He took a calming breath and decided it was time to speak to the septad's Grandfather about his daughter again. It wasn't the first talk Tenet had with Mordin on the subject of his little girl, but he was hellbent on making sure it would be the last.

  "Mordin, I need to speak with you," he called, trotting to catch up to the old man.

  Mordin sighed and closed his eyes. Dammit. He was hoping that impudent little shit didn't notice him. No such luck. He straightened his back and turned, deciding a dementia episode would make the boy go away faster. "Good! It's my page! Run up to the temple and fetch my primary reader." He clapped his hands and held his head up regally.

  Tenet gave him a bland look. "So it's going to be one of those days, is it, old man?"

  Mordin feigned outrage. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner! You shall be flogged and then meditate for penance!"

  "Can it," said Tenet, crossing his arms. "I'm not one of your sheep that's going to buy that load of crap."

  Mordin was truly surprised and did his best to hide that fact. That hard girl this boy ran around with was really changing him. He used to at least fake respectfulness. "I do not know what you are talking about."

  Tenet leaned in and pointed a finger in the old man's face. "Play your game with everyone else, but you listen to me right now and listen good. I have talked to you before about my daughter and don't even pretend you don't remember."

  Mordin frowned. Tenet had spoken to him before, and even if his threat was a good fifteen years too early, Mordin had to admit he was pleased Tenet put so much stock in the well being of his child. He could respect that, and always did. He had not once spoken with Tenet's daughter since. He didn't even look in her direction, though more out of fear of the mother than the father. "Now you see here. I have not so much as glanced in Miss Violet's direction! And that is the truth," he insisted firmly.

  Tenet looked at the old man, trying to judge whether he was still playing or not. "I mean it," Tenet said again, trying to gage the reaction.

  Mordin noticed that some townspeople were looking in his direction. His life was so much easier if they bought the dementia game. He had his food delivered every day and pretty young women lined up to do their duty for an old man. He never had to chop his own wood or hunt his own food. He was allowed to wile away his days however he saw fit, and that life worked for him. But the young man in front of him meant business, and that could not be brushed aside. He leaned in and whispered, "Dammit young man, I'm telling you the truth. I promised, and I keep my promises. I'm still a man of honor, you know. Don't think I take that responsibility lightly! I did not touch your daughter. I did not speak with your daughter. I promised, and whatever else you think of me, you must believe that is a promise I intend to keep!"

  Tenet knew he was telling the truth. Mordin was crafty and sly, but he was no liar. The man honestly didn't speak to Violet the day before and something in Tenet uncoiled and he breathed a sigh of relief. "See that you do," Tenet tried to say firmly, but the relief made him smile and take the bite out of any threat he tried to imply. He thumped Mordin on the shoulder. "Carry on then."

  Mordin rolled his eyes and turned down the street. Remembering the townspeople, he called over his shoulder, "And don't forget the peach cobbler!" He caught one woman shaking her head sadly in his peripheral vision and knew his dodder
ing old man act was still working.

  Tenet suppressed his smile. If Mordin wanted people to think he was crazy, so be it. Tenet had long since made peace with the man's ruse. He put his hands in his pockets and strolled to his vehicle, whistling and feeling very much better. Violet hadn't talked to Mordin. At least in that, both of them listened to Tenet's warnings. He threw his leg over the seat of his vehicle and started the engine.

  Odd, though, her saying that. Tenet stopped whistling and frowned. He gunned the engine a few times, letting the motor warm up. It was an old, third-hand unit that he and Scarab saved up to buy for three years, and had to keep running with tape, epoxy, and wire. He had learned to baby it and let the engine fully warm before he attempted to put it in gear if he didn't want to spend an afternoon handing Scarab tools while she tinkered.

  Tenet sat for another few seconds, then glanced up the hill to the path that lead to the school house, suddenly feeling very unsettled. He switched the key back off, then dismounted. He knew Mrs. Dinty frowned on parents visiting during the day and upsetting the new routine of the young students. But as he walked closer, his trepidation grew. Violet said she spoke with Mordin. Why would she make that up? He all but ran up the stairs to the building and tore down the hall, ignoring a teacher who called out her open door to ask what he was doing. He pulled open the door to Violet's classroom. Mrs. Dinty jumped and put her hand to her chest.

  "Mr. Lorne! What do you think you are doing?"

  The children in the class laughed, Mrs. Dinty told them to hush, and Tenet scanned the little faces looking for the only one he cared about. His heart pounded and his blood ran cold when he saw an empty space at the far side of a table of students. He turned to Mrs. Dinty. "Where's Violet?"

  Mrs. Dinty frowned, and Tenet didn't need to hear her answer. He turned and ran full tilt out of the school and half slid down the hill. He jumped on his transport and didn't bother to let it warm up.

  Violet said she saw her grandfather.

  A deep fear clutched at his stomach. An old fear. A fear he had let himself forget over the last six, easy, wonderful years. He raced through town, ignoring Mrs. McKay when she shouted at him to slow down. He skidded his vehicle around the corner of that path that would turn into his driveway, and had to throw his weight in the other direction to keep it from tipping. He just had to make it home. Violet was there. She got sick and went home early. Or Scarab got her. Yes, Scarab got her to help with the renovations of the room. That was it! Scarab didn't like the Celtist school, anyway. That was it. That had to be it.

  Tenet turned down the path that lead to their house and as soon as he entered the clearing, he knew that was not it. Violet was not sick. Scarab didn't let her skip school to come work on the room. The door to his home flapped open in the morning breeze. Scarab's own motor vehicle was still parked in its usual spot, so she hadn't left and forgot to secure the latch. Tenet could barely breathe as he jumped off his rig and ran inside, screaming their names.

  The house was empty. He clenched his hair in his fists and tried to breathe as the world closed in around him. He looked around the house. No, no, no! Maybe Scarab took Darla. She loved riding the old horse. Maybe she took Darla and went and got Violet and they were off enjoying the nice day on one of the grand adventures Scarab liked to have with her daughter. Tenet's feet skidded to a stop outside Darla's small enclosure and he didn't even have to open the door to know she stood inside. He could hear her softly nicker when she heard him approach.

  Tenet froze, his mind going utterly blank. What now? He took a deep breath, then heard a scream. It was coming from him. The wraith-like scream was coming from him and he dropped to the ground and let the gut-wrenching terror take over. His head swam and the world tilted, and he began to breathe in great gulps of air, trying to get the whirling horror to calm. When he felt like he could move again, he pushed himself up off the cold ground and stumbled back in the house.

  How in the hell did they get Scarab? How did she let herself get taken? He looked around for...something. Anything. Some small clue to give him an idea of just what happened. A little girl, even one as feisty as Violet, would be easy to snatch. But Scarab? It didn't make any sense! He went into the room they had been fixing up and cried out when he saw a small, dark puddle on the floor.

  No.

  His mind refused to accept it even as he walked forward and dropped down. He put his finger in the dark patch and lifted it. It was blood.

  No!

  He looked down, trying to judge how much was lost, as if he could assess a wound from only that one small bit of information. It was blood. It was her blood. It was the blood of his wife, his world. He lost them. He lost them both.

  Tenet's breakfast rolled in his stomach and he didn't even have time to reach the bathroom before he was heaving. He couldn't lose them. He couldn't bear to think of life without them. He heaved until the heaves turned into body jarring sobs. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and tried to pull himself together. On shaky knees, he pushed himself up and made his way back out to the main room. Think. He had to think. He had to make a plan.

  Tenet walked to the table and sat down, knowing his legs were going to give out again. His house was quiet, and the quiet tore at him. He needed plan. He had to go after them. He would take what money they had left and go into town and buy whatever he could from Hans. No, that wouldn't work. Hans was strapped after the long winter and his supplies were thin. He'd have to go to Nortaberg and stock up. He tried to make a mental list of what he'd need when the hand that was flexing crinkled a piece of paper. He stopped and looked down.

  Don't even bother. By the time you find them, I guarantee it will be too late. -Jace

  Tenet's fist balled the paper up and a deep, burning rage unlike anything he ever felt filled him. His stomach stopped roiling and his breathing became calm and sure. He wondered idly if it was that internal, driving anger that let Scarab be such a formidable bounty hunter. Very carefully, he smoothed the paper out, then carefully folded it and placed it in his pocket as he rose. He would not let Jace win.

  No longer unsure, Tenet went to his bedroom and quickly packed a bag with the gold coins they had, a few changes of clothes, and a spare pair of boots. He went into Violet's room and saw her dolly. He felt a slight crack in the coldness inside as he looked down at the little stuffed baby. What if Violet never got to hold her again? "No," he said out loud. He would not think like that. He placed the doll back on the bed and forced himself to believe that he would be tucking Violet back in that bed with her soon, too.

  Tenet stopped at their pantry and got as much dried food as he could. He shoved it into the bag, then made good and sure his home was locked tight. "We will be back," he promised, more to himself than the house. He hopped on his vehicle and tried to turn the engine over. When it only sputtered and coughed, he had another rush of emotion and stood kicking the poor transport over and over, his rage and pain and anger bubbling over. The throbbing in his toe sank in and he stood and panted, trying desperately to find the cold steel within and hold onto it. It was exhausting being Scarab. He let out a little panicked laugh and then swallowed hard. He took another deep breath and walked around the house. Though not ideal, Darla would have to do. He would ride into town and see if Hans could trade for a younger horse, at least temporarily.

  "Gee," he shouted once he was on her back and the old horse, used to easy trotting, took a moment to remember the command. Tenet yanked the reins and repeated it, then Darla bolted into action. Though not as fast as he would have liked, she did run at a reasonable pace for such an old beast. They made it to the store and Tenet wasted no time jumping off and racing for the door. He didn't even bother to tie off Darla. She was panting so hard he knew she wouldn't be wandering off anytime soon.

  "Hans!" he bellowed, racing to the front of the store.

  Hans frowned. "Tenet. Did you forget something?"

  "I need a horse."

  Hans looked at the man. Something w
as definitely wrong with his friend. "Take which ever you need."

  "I..." Tenet swallowed hard. "I may not be able to return it."

  Hans' eyes went wide. "What trouble are you in?"

  The townspeople of Ogden did not know the whole story behind Tenet and Scarab's sudden appearance years before. They knew only that the two sought asylum and that the government of the Borderlands sent a soldier once a year to visit. Though there was much speculation, they all accepted the facts on face value and didn't pry. The two weren't Celtists, and neither was a threat to the community, so they didn't need to know anymore beyond that. Tenet struggled for a second on how much to tell his friend. "My wife and daughter have been taken by a dangerous man."

  Hans gasped and put a hand to his chest, feeling a sudden pang of panic for the boy. "No."

  Wren McKay put down the new bow he'd been looking at in one of the store's aisles and walked up to his friend. "What's this now, Tenet?"

  Tenet turned and looked at Wren. "They're gone. Someone took them, a dangerous man and I need to get them back." He turned to Hans. "I can't promise I'll be able to return the horse but I have money and..."

  Hans waved a hand. "Put that money away. Go! Take Clyde. He is the fastest!"

  Tenet thanked the man and turned to leave. Wren grabbed his arm firmly, and Tenet tried to wrench it free. "I have to get going. They've already got a big head start!"

  "And where did they go?" Wren asked. Tenet was no hunter. Tenet was no warrior. Tenet had never tracked man nor prey and Wren knew if he let him leave in the state he was in, Ogden would likely never see any of them again. And that would be very sad, indeed.

  "I don't know," Tenet had to admit, feeling the panic start to clutch inside again. "But the longer I stand here the further away they'll get."

  Wren nodded patiently. He had seen this kind of panic in the young warriors he trained and knew how to make Tenet calm down and think. Thinking was the most important part of tracking. It was also the hardest. This man just discovered that his wife and child were taken. In his shoes, Wren knew he himself would have a difficult time focusing. But, he couldn't let Tenet succumb. He had to force him to think, no matter how badly Tenet might hate him for it.

  "You do not know where they went. Do you know how many there are?"

  "No, but..."

  "Do you know where they are taking them?"

  Tenet clenched his jaw. "I don't have time for this."

  "And they need for you to." Wren looked in his friend's eyes and willed him to listen. "They need you to keep a calm, level head and make a plan. If you run out of there all worked up not knowing anything, you will not find them."

  Tenet stared into the warrior's eyes and slowly his mind made his heart calm down enough to listen. Wren sounded so much like Scarab that Tenet couldn't help but take his words seriously. He took a deep breath. "I have to get them," he whispered. "I will die without them."

  Wren knew Tenet was listening, truly listening. He also knew that Tenet alone had no hope of getting his loved ones back. Years of leading, hunting, tracking, and battling made his mind formulate a plan in the moment. "You will go see Mirvena and explain the situation."

  "But..."

  "I will go to my wife," Wren said, not giving Tenet a chance to argue. "I will select two warriors and we will meet you back here in one hour."

  "A whole hour?"

  Wren nodded. "You will need to explain it to Mirvena, and I will need to allow my warriors enough time to say goodbye to their families."

  Tenet blinked for a second, trying to fathom what Wren was saying. "You're...you're going with me?"

  Wren allowed a quick smile for his friend before becoming serious again. "It is no more than I would do for any in our septad."

  "But I'm not even a Celtist."

  "But you are our brother." He saw the relief and pain mixed together in Tenet's eyes and wondered what kind of life the man had lived before coming to Ogden. Wren felt incredibly lucky to never know that kind of loneliness. He gave Tenet's arm a quick thump, then instructed him to go and seek out Mirvena. He nodded towards Hans, then headed out. His wife wouldn't like him gone for so long, but she would hold it against him forever if he didn't help. It was their way. They did not turn their backs on their own.

  Tenet looked numbly at Hans. "Go. Speak with Mirvena," Hans told the overwhelmed man.

  Tenet nodded and swallowed hard. Yes. Mirvena. He walked out of the store and started up the hill to the temple. Mirvena met him at the door and motioned him inside. It never ceased to amaze Tenet how quickly news spread in the small community.

  "It is true then," the elderly priestess said as soon as Tenet was near. The look on his face was unmistakable.

  "They're gone."

  Mirvena pressed her lips together. "I think it is time you came clean with me, boy."

  Tenet sighed. There was so much to say and so little time and he didn't know where he should begin. "I was the son of the Exalted Leader. Or, uh, I guess I still am."

  "Who is this Exalted Leader?"

  "He's...well I suppose the closest you have in the Borderlands would be the President, but his position is higher than that. Laws do not apply."

  "I see," said Mirvena. Though she knew the very basics from Major Krupkie, the woman who had requested a place in Ogden for the two young people, she didn't know details. Once she assessed that neither the boy nor the former bounty hunter were a threat to her people, she didn't need to know anymore. "Keep talking."

  "Do you know about the mandatory migrations?" Mirvena frowned and shook her head. She did not know, nor care to know, much about the workings of Southland or New Canada. "Because of the drastic seasonal flux, we...they migrate biannually. The Summers are spent in New Canada, where it is cooler, and the Winters are spent in Southland, where it is cooler."

  Mirvena remembered something about it now that he mentioned. She couldn't imagine packing up and moving twice a year. "That's...disruptive."

  "Yes, well, as disruptive as it might be, it's also law. I chose to just...not. I stayed when the transports left."

  "Why?"

  It was a very good and very complicated question that Tenet did not have time to answer. Maybe if he got back, he'd sit and allow the Historian to take down the narrative in her chronicles.

  When he got back, he corrected himself. When.

  "I just did," he said. "And Scarab, she was the hunter that took the bounty to come find me and bring me in."

  Mirvena suddenly had a clearer picture of the two. "That makes for an interesting courtship."

  Tenet couldn't help the smile. "You have no idea. Anyway, I figured it was a government bounty, one that was issued when I did not appear in New Canada. Every Summer, there are a handful of people who attempt to off-season, and the government usually issues a bounty and has a hunter bring them in."

  Mirvena quirked an eyebrow. "And you were willing to face the punishments?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  Tenet didn't have time for "why". "I just was. My life was not very good. And I would have done, and I guess I did do, anything to get away from it. My father is a mean, cold man."

  Mirvena looked angry. "He is still your father."

  "Yes. And he's the one that took the bounty out on me. And he was paying an incentive to have me brought in dead." Tenet watched Mirvena's eyes go wide and heard her gasp. "It is a very different society than yours, Grandmother," he said quietly, using the term of respect for her position.

  Mirvena's mind churned. She knew their people turned them out. She had no idea they could be that cold, that vicious to their own. "I see," she said eventually, struggling to wrap her mind around it all. "And now you believe your father has found you?"

  "Yes. And a bounty hunter."

  Mirvena frowned. "The Borderlands does not allow bounty hunting."

  "That didn't stop them."

  "Are my people in danger?"

  Tenet shook his head. "No," he said
firmly. "They do not want you. They want me."

  "Then why did they take the baby?" Mirvena asked, gripping Tenet's arm. "Why did they do that?"

  Tenet had no answer the old woman could live with. They took them to hurt Tenet as badly as possible. Mirvena was tough as nails, and far from naive. But he knew she would never be able to understand how humans could exist that would torture their own that badly. "I am going after them."

  "Yes. The warriors prepare."

  Tenet nodded firmly, then swallowed hard past the sudden lump in his throat. The Celtists had done so much for him, for his family, and they just kept surprising him with their generosity. To say it was humbling was an understatement, and he needed to try and tell Mirvena as much in case he didn't return. "Thank you for allowing us to come here and..."

  "No!" Mirvena snapped. "You will not be so impudent as to pretend we will not meet again." She said it with all the regal haughtiness of decades of leadership under her belt. "You cannot cast us aside so easily, Mr. Lorne. We do not work like that up here and when you return you shall meditate on that as penance for your impertinence!"

  The tears in Mirvena's eyes betrayed her fear for him, for them, and he threw his arms around her and squeezed. "Yes, Grandmother," he said, choking up.

  "Go find your woman and drag her back here," Mirvena said quickly, trying hard not to give in to her own sadness. "It would serve her well to have a day of meditation in the temple, too."

  "Thank you," Tenet said softly. He turned and left the temple while he still could.

  Gwyn, the septad's Historian, came out from behind the door, openly sobbing. "Oh, auntie," she said to Mirvena. Mirvena sighed and opened her arms, and let the woman cry on her shoulder, needing the contact just as badly. "Now you hush with that, Gwyn. They will be back."

  Gwyn sniffed loudly. "How can you be sure?"

  "I am the high priestess and Grandmother of the Ogden septad, that's how! Now, get back to your room and add this to the chronicles. No matter what happens, we shall never forget our brother and sister Lorne." She watched Gwyn scurry off, and then stood and stared at the empty doorway for long minutes before she entered her chamber. She desperately needed to meditate, but there was no time to waste. She crossed to her com dock and carefully recorded a precise message to send to Major Krupkie.

  Mirvena hit send on the message and hoped the army could do something to help. Tenet had been more than willing to sit for their yearly inquisitions about his family. The very least they could do would be to help get Scarab and the baby back! If Mirvena was younger, she would have saddled up and ridden with Tenet herself. She suddenly felt so old. Old and helpless and useless. She sighed and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and entered her prayer state of being. Without hesitation she asked the Mother to make Tenet's feet swift and Scarab's aim true. It was all she could do for them, and she prayed with all her heart that it would be enough.