Chapter 5
The body floated downriver, pivoting slowly on its axis as the waters frothed by. It was pushed against some jutting rocks with a scraping of armor on stone, then the current deposited it, almost tenderly, in a small cove.
It lay there for a while, half out of the water and unmoving as day slowly turned to night. Then suddenly it came to life with violent shudders and wet retching and after emptying half the river on the sandy shore, Lexa pushed up on hands and knees and dragged herself out of the water, to flop onto her back a few meters away, dizzy with the effort.
She groaned softly, moving her limbs gingerly to check for injury. When it was clear that nothing was broken, she puffed out the breath she’d been holding in a sigh of quiet relief.
It was utterly dark around her, and she silently cursed the decidedly turn for the worse the weather had taken in the past couple of days. With the stars out, or even a sliver of moon, she’d have risked traveling at night, but the forest was pitch back and she only knew she was surrounded by trees because of their soft creaking in the breeze.
The wind picked up with a lonesome howl and she shivered under its touch. Icy fingers poked at her as if she was naked and she tottered to her feet with a soft moan of pain, and lurched forward. Nothing may be broken, but she felt a warm trickle of blood snake down her side, dripping along her ribs. She was lucky - the blade could have cut much deeper. The rest of her ached with bruises and scrapes, and her armor chafed at her skin, the clothing underneath reduced to sodden tatters.
Lexa knew she needed shelter and a place to dry off before setting off towards Polis. The river had carried her far enough from the Azgeda border, or so she hoped, still she dismissed the idea of a fire out in the open as she was.
Indra’s scouts were undoubtedly going to look for her come morning, if they weren’t already, but she was sure they were not the only ones. Indra had muttered about traps all the way to the border, and she hadn’t been far off.
Except it hadn’t been Roan’s hand behind it as the General had suspected.
The men that had sprung the ambush were a motley group of renegades. Some of them had born Azgeda’s typical face scarring, others were clearly common bandits, attracted by promises of wealth and pardon. All of them wore armbands of dark red, a color that none of the clans used.
The name they’d screamed as they descended on the Trikru column had chilled her blood and angered her.
Ontari.
She shivered again, teeth chattering softly, and pushed thoughts of vengeance away for a better day. Her hands went to her belt and her shoulders sagged slightly when she felt the soft leather of her hunting knife beneath her fingers. The small leather pouch in which she carried her flint was just next to it and she smiled thinly. She’d lost her swords into the river, but finding she still had these objects in her possession was a great comfort.
Slowly, her steps careful and measured, she picked a path away from the river. The sound of rushing water gradually died away behind her as she pushed deeper into the trees, trailing her hands against trunks sticky with sap to keep her balance.
Walking dried her off somewhat, but the night was cold and brittle with the promise of frost come morning, and the little warmth her body could produce was leached away by the chill. She lost track of time, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, legs becoming more and more wooden as she progressed. Her hair hung in drenched strands, plastered to her skull and she halted a few times, twisting the wet curls between her fingers to try and get some of the water out.
Ever so slowly her eyes started to pick out details, first her own hands emerged out of the gloom, then the trees, closing in on all sides and the intricate lace of branches above her head, jet black against the greying sky.
Finally, in the false light of predawn, Lexa found a spot where she could rest. She would not have been able to walk much further anyway, her wound and the unplanned bath in the river taking their toll on her energies.
The small, crumbling cement building, half buried under a mound of earth and dead leaves was not much in the way of shelter, but it would offer some protection from the wind. Moss camouflaged the structure and bushes half hid the entrance, its door hanging bent and askew from a rusted hinge. She would probably have missed it, had she passed by scant minutes before.
Careful not to disturb the vegetation she crept inside, knife unsheathed and parting the darkness before her. There was enough light now for her shadow to precede her and she knew she’d have to lay low soon, before resuming her travels as the day began to dwindle.
On one hand, hiding during the brightest hours decreased the chances her own warriors would find her, but she had no doubt that enemies were also hard on her trail. The river might have carried her far enough from the place of the ambush, but alone and wounded as she was she could not risk being careless.
As she edged farther inside she discovered that someone else had used the place as a camping site, or perhaps several someones over the years. The corner farthest from the door was blackened with soot and a neat stack of dried twigs and thicker branches lay nearby.
The discovery gave her pause and she wondered what manner of people could chance to come by and what their intentions could be. This far from the capital, outcasts and bandits abounded despite her best efforts and her warbands were so busy defending the settlements that they could rarely mount effective sweeps. She resolved to come back to the area herself once Ontari and those who had sided with her were dealt with.
A tremor so vicious it made the knife drop from seizing fingers shook her, and Lexa discarded the notion of abandoning the shelter. She quickly recovered her only weapon, then gathered some wood and set about starting a small fire. It took her a few tries to get a spark, her hands so cold and clumsy she had lost all coordination, but finally the heap of wood caught with a pop and a curl of smoke and tongues of orange-gold began to feed on the dried twigs with eagerness.
It would take a sizeable bonfire to dry her completely, but Lexa contented herself with banishing part of the chill that had displaced the marrow inside her bones. She stripped off her armor and most of her clothes hurriedly, shuddering as she peeled the wet fabric off her skin. In the uncertain light of the fire she could take a better look at the shallow gash along her side. A crust of dried blood came away with her shirt, but as she prodded the wound with her finger she was relieved to find that the flesh around it was cool to her touch. She’d felt a flush of fever heat her brow and cheeks as she walked and for a moment had feared poison.
Whoever used the place as shelter had left a blanket and a satchel holding dried food tucked away behind the wood stack. Lexa shook the blanket out and cut a long strip from the bottom of it, to use as a makeshift bandage. The cloth was threadbare, but clean enough and it was better than letting her clothes and armor scrape at the cut once she dressed again. She threw the rest of the blanket around her shoulders and crouched close to the fire, soaking what warmth it provided.
Tugging the satchel closer, she rummaged inside. Her stomach gave a savage growl at the sight of dried meat and cheese. It wasn’t much true, but she was famished and it appeared like a succulent feast. Lexa began to chew on the meat methodically and scraped a bit of mould off the cheese before popping a piece into her mouth. The meat was hard and stringy and the cheese so tart it stung her tongue and burned her nose, but she felt some energy returning. It took her a conscious effort to not gorge herself on the food, and leave some for whoever else may need it. She regretted she would not have time to replenish the supplies, the thoughtfulness of a stranger probably saving her life.
A somewhat full belly brought on drowsiness, and she scuttled back to rest against the wall, letting her head fall forward slightly as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. With conscious thought she slowed her breaths and relaxed her muscles. Her mind wandered off towards a state of half sleep that allowed her to remain aware of her surroundings while her body rested. It was something every warrior learned along with weapon training; life in the clans was harsh and often far from peaceful and one had to get sleep where they could. A fond smile, touched with sadness, curved Lexa’s lips as she remembered her games as a seken , when she’d been so young she could barely reach Anya’s shoulder while standing on her tiptoes. Her First would slip into this trance-like state and Lexa would patiently wait for an opportunity to strike. Anya had promised to give her her best knife if she managed to land a hit when the older woman was resting.
She’d tried so hard, at campsites and from horseback, or right before a raid against another clan and never managed. Her fingers brushed the knife’s hilt, that same one she’d been promised and that Anya had given her on the day she’d left for Polis to join the Natblida . She wished, not for the first time, that Anya was still alive. She trusted Indra with her life, but Anya had been more than her General, she’d been her friend.
Her mind drifted on, hopping from thought to thought, never lingering for long as fatigue slowly drained away from her.limbs. She thought of Polis and compiled a mental list of things to do before winter really hit, then her mind was drawn to Clarke like a moth lured to the heart of a fire despite knowing its touch would turn it into ash.
Loneliness settled on her shoulders and she clutched at her own sides, imagining for a moment that it was Clarke’s arms around her, holding the cold at bay. She hoped she’d manage to reach Polis before word of her apparent demise spread, not only because of the political turmoil that would cause, but also (mainly if she was honest with herself) because of what it’d do to Clarke.
Forest green eyes snapped open and sharply refocused as a rustling noise broke into her consciousness. Lexa’s senses immediately leaped to high alert and she shifted, crouching low and rocking slightly on the balls of her feet. The sound came again, whisper quiet and careful, lacking the random trashing of an animal in the underbrush. Someone was trying to creep up to the shelter, but the soft popping of a twig and the friction of bushes being parted gave them away. Not a warrior perhaps, or someone still very young.
Lexa shed the blanket to allow herself better movement and gracefully glided along the wall, waiting with baited breath at the edge of the rectangle of light coming through the door. She didn’t have to wait long, a silhouette blocking the sun for a moment before a lithe figure stepped inside and within reach.
She sprung without a sound, one arm going around the intruder’s waist to pin their arms to their side, while she brought the weapon bearing hand against the underside of their throat. The newcomer trashed and managed to bury their elbow into her wounded side, but stilled as soon as the cold metal of the knife bit into their flesh, drawing a fat bead of blood.
Lexa forcefully pushed the newcomer away from herself, using their own momentum to trip them to the ground and, as soon as they reflexively twisted to prop up on their elbows, she was bearing down on them and tearing off the scarf obscuring their features.
She found herself nose to nose with a young girl, baby fat just beginning to leave her cheeks. Her eyes were of a blue she’d only seen on Clarke, blown wide by worry and a touch of wild wariness and she wore her hair into a multitude of small braids tied neatly at the nape of her neck. Her gaze was drawn downward to the girl’s mouth and she tried to keep her eyes from showing pity. A corner of her lips was puckered, her mouth twisted into a half snarl where a cartilaginous ridge grew, almost like a badly healed scar but in this case entirely natural. Something else tickled the corners of Lexa’s mind, but she couldn’t hold her thoughts still long enough to puzzle out what.
The kid was an Outcast, a pariah that should have been abandoned to the beasts of the forest at birth, but somehow had made it to the cusp of teenhood. Lexa knew of several Outcast settlements and always, at the onset of the bad season, sent a few warriors she could trust beyond doubt with supplies for those the clan had abandoned. She’d expressed her desire to bring them back into Trikru somehow to Titus, meeting strenuous opposition, but perhaps now things could begin to change.
The girl let out a mewling sound, then her lips moved to form a single word with difficulty.
“ Heda .” It was a mangled hiss, but combined with the pure awe now eating at the girl’s irises the meaning was clear as day. Lexa slowly eased off her, and the child scrambled up on her knees trembling, then bent forward, forehead almost touching the ground. How she’d recognized Lexa without the sash or warpaint and half naked as she was would be a question for a later time.
The Commander went to wipe the knife’s blade on the blanket and when the drops of blood caught the light she almost dropped the weapon for the second time, breath leaving her in a rush like it had been knocked out of her lungs.
The girl was Natblida , just like her.
Weapon cleaned and sheathed, she pulled her clothes on, studying the girl as she buckled her armor back in place. She was still in the position she’d left her, abased on the floor and waiting on Heda ’s pleasure. Lexa was sure she could have stood and walked away, and the girl would have stayed exactly as she was.
She cleared her throat.
“ Gyon op gon Heda, gada .” [rise for your Commander, girl]
The girl straightened immediately, gaze glued to the floor. Lexa saw her jaw clench, and she realized the child was doing her best to resist the urge to shift under her scrutiny.
“ Chon yu bilaik ?” [what is your name?]
“I...called Nita.“ The girl shuddered slightly, a sheen of sweat dampening her brow and it was obvious that speaking caused her pain.
“You don’t have to talk, just nod or shake your head alright?” Lexa said gently, struggling to conceal her surprise that the girl knew english at all. She took a minute to have a closer look at her clothes, they were sturdy and clean, if a bit worn and the curved shaft of a small hornbow peeked out from behind Nita’s shoulder. At her waist was a quiver, bristling with goose-fletched arrows. Not a warrior then, but a hunter and it was clear to Lexa that she could take care of herself.
She gestured to the half empty satchel still near the wall where she had left it. “Was the food yours? I am sorry, I think I ate most of it.” Basically all of her stuff was at the bottom of the river or she would find something to repay the girl.
Nita must have caught onto the guilt lining her words because she shook her head frantically, clearly horrified that the Commander was apologizing to her. She seemed to think hard on something then her hands lifted gracefully, her fingers deftly weaving the unspoken battle-cant that Trikru warriors used when in need of stealth. While not including a full vocabulary, the sign language was flexible enough that it allowed people to add nuance with eyes and stance, and the timed flick of a wrist.
Nita signed so quickly that Lexa had trouble following, but soon enough words connected into phrases inside her head.
*I have caught a rabbit in my snares,* the girl eyes her critically, * not much food in the bag. You must be hungry, Heda.*
Lexa raised her hand to sign back, deciding that not speaking would probably put Nita more at ease and signalled that she was quite full. Except her stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly, giving her lie away.
The girl chortled, then blushed and averted her gaze, but Lexa gave a reassuring snort, smiling openly. There was definitely something she liked about the kid. She seemed to have a willful, strong spirit that she felt tied to somehow.
*I guess you are right. I am a bit hungry.*
Nita nodded entusiastically and pulled the rabbit from a small bag tied at her back. Lexa noted the animal had already been drained of blood and how quickly the girl prepared it and set it on a spit to put over the fire. The Commander gathered more wood from the dwindling stack and fed the flames, then they settled back on either side of the fire, waiting for the meat to cook.
Rich fat dripped from the small carcass, sizzling into the fire and the smell of roasted meat began to fill the small space, making her mouth water. Nita’s appearance had lessened Lexa’s worry over hostile forces being close by since Azgeda and renegades loyal to Ontari wouldn’t hesitate to cut an Outcast down. She wrestled with the bitter thought that most Trikru would too. When the meat was done she reached for the skewer and cut two portions, bending forward to hand the bigger one to Nita.
*I already ate,* she motioned when the girl looked ready to protest. As she inched closer Lexa’s eyes dropped to the collar of the girl’s shirt, which had come undone during their tussle. A small bone pendant hung by a leather thong around her throat, the ivory plaque delicately scrimshawed with a stylized fox.
She wore a similar one around her own neck.
Lexa’s hand moved of its own accord before she could stop herself from grabbing for it, mind reeling with the coincidence and the girl squeaked in panic, fist clutched protectively around the necklace as she stumbled back and off her crouch, falling onto her rump.
*I’m sorry,* Lexa’s fingers were shaking so badly she had trouble forming the silent words, *it’s just...I...I…* She set her food carefully aside and undid her own shirt, showing Nita her own pendant, which the girl probably had failed to notice in the aftermath of their scuffle. The two bone jewels were identical, except Lexa’s was etched with a bear, rearing up on its hindlegs.
Half understood details slotted into place as she spread her hands soothingly, showing Nita she meant no harm. The girl seemed mollified, the tension that had penciled crinkled lines around her eyes easing away.
With a bigger fire came more light and now Lexa could discern that Nita’s tresses were honey colored, her eyes slightly slanted, the first hints of what would be chiseled cheekbones in a year or two starting to show. Only the color of the eyes was different - from the father’s side Lexa supposed.
Her heart fluttered from her ribcage up to her throat and perched there like a fist sized fretting, little bird she couldn’t quite swallow back down.
*My mentor made this for me,” she tapped the plaque with a fingernail.
*My mother gave me mine.” Nita’s eyes darkened to the grey-blue of a lake in winter and she dipped her head for a moment. After a few minutes had trickled by, she signed again, *she missed the agreed time. She isn’t coming, is she?* Neither of them had a need to ascertain they were talking about the same person. They just knew.
“No,” Lexa’s voice was a hoarse whisper, “Onya won’t be coming strik fechasnacha .” [little fox]
A sharp intake of breath and a tightening of fists greeted the news, but no tears she noted with a burst of pride. Nita just nodded once and looked at her solemnly.
*She used to call me that too. Father did as well.* The use of the past tense told Lexa the child had been on her own for some time.
“Eat,” she rasped perhaps more harshly than she intended, struggling to keep her emotions from overwhelming her. The girl nodded again, before beginning to munch on her food, often stopping to cast slanted looks in her direction.
Lexa could only pick at her meat, a veritable blizzard of emotions storming her insides. She felt the keenness of a loss she hadn’t had the time to mourn cut at her heart, a tempest of the coldest shards, threatening to encase her very soul in ice. And as she looked at the girl, in whom she now could see Anya so clearly, she ached at the thought that her closest friend, her confidant had kept the child a secret even from her seken because of tradition.
She swore to herself that she’d change the custom and knew she could count on Clarke’s support even without asking.
*Will you come with me to Polis?* She found herself signing when she caught the girl’s eyes again.
“ Sha .” the word flew assured and whole past broken lips, then Nita added with her hands, *she taught me to be ready Heda. I am ready.*
Nita’s eyes held the same quiet fire Anya’s had harbored and Lexa hoped her friend would approve of her decision. She also hoped she would be able to care for the kid as her First had always cared for her, sheltering and nurturing her without making her weak. She wondered briefly what Clarke would see in her… their new ward. Perhaps caring for Anya’s daughter would help her lover shed some of the guilt that she dragged around with her.
Her heart settled some and they finished their meal in silence, getting used to each other’s presence. As they ate, some of the tension that had stiffened the line of Nita’s shoulders seemed to leave the girl, along with a bit of the amazement that had filled her eyes in the beginning. Her expression was one of guarded, tentative trust as if her final judgement on Lexa herself was still pending.
The rabbit was gone soon enough and Lexa licked the grease off her fingers, regretting there wasn’t some more. She wasn’t usually this hungry, but had to acknowledge the extraordinary circumstances. Once they were done with the food, she glanced outside, noting the position of the sun, half hidden behind billowing clouds, but still clearly descending towards dusk. The smell of rainwater turned the air into an heavy, almost tangible mass pressing against her skin and Lexa knew the humid scent heralded more rain, probably as early as that night judging by the clouds racing overhead. She motioned for Nita that they were going to leave and the girl simply set about straightening the small room they had camped in. Lexa collected the rabbit’s bones and walked outside, finding a spot where she could dig a small hole with ease and bury everything. When she made her way back, Nita was stuffing the bag of supplies and the blanket behind the now much smaller wood stack, while her eyes roamed every inch of the cement floor, scanning for leftover traces of their passage that needed to be erased. Anya’s hand in her training was evident, as she performed actions that had been drilled into Lexa’s very marrow by the same teacher.
Once it was clear that nothing of their presence remained, save for a handful of ashes where the fire had been, Lexa beckoned the girl to her and scooped up some of the soot, applying it like warpaint on Nita’s cheeks. She smeared her own face so that their skin wouldn’t stand out too much as darkness descended, then tilted her head curiously when she saw the utter shock on the girl’s face. Her mouth was moving silently and she had raised a hand to touch the dusting of ash on her face, as if she couldn’t quite believe it was there.
*Only warriors wear warpaint.” Her blue eyes were alight with unshed tears of disbelief.
*You are my warrior now.*
Lexa strode outside without a backward glance and heard Nita’s boots scuffle softly behind her, as the girl hurried to catch up. Then silence, as she naturally placed her feet where Lexa walked, soaking up the way the Commander had of making herself nothing more than a ghost among the trees.
In the light of day Lexa began to find her bearings and it wasn’t long before they entered a part of the woods she was more familiar with. There were several settlements within a few hours trek, but she pushed onward, unwilling to bring those that were hunting her down to descend on unsuspecting innocents.
A thick carpet of fallen leaves and pine needles muffled their steps, but she wished it was still summer when the underbrush was so overgrown it wasn’t possible to see ahead more than a few meters. The forest now felt much more open, as the majority of the trees in the area were oak or maple, the touch of fall giving them a mantle of red and gold with the deep black-green of pines a sharp contrast among them.
Lines of sight were much less hindered and as a result they proceeded in a half crouch, using fallen logs and thickets as cover. Lexa had her knife out and when she happened to glance back at Nita she noted Anya’s daughter had unslung her bow and nocked one arrow, fingers keeping the bowstring half-drawn.
They were about to crest a steep ridge when the wind sharply turned, blowing in their faces so hard it made their eyes water. It brought the sound of men, crashing through the woods right below them and Lexa froze, dropping to her belly behind a mossy rock. Nita crawled up silently and stopped at her shoulder, a frown halfway between worry and fear knitting her brows.
Lexa’s wounded side gave a painful twinge and she turned her head sharply to conceal a grimace, not wanting to worry her companion further. Nita, having unfortunately inherited her mother’s knack for reading the Commander like an open book, sensed the tensing of her body and the grunted intake of breath, placing a concerned hand on Lexa’s shoulder and squeezing gently, a question clear on her face.
Lexa shook her head, trying to assume a reassuring look, then nodded towards the top of the cliff a few meters away. They slithered up on their bellies until their gazes edged carefully over the edge.
The slope fell away sharply enough to require extreme care in going down and at the bottom the men they heard were clustered in a circle, clearly arguing in lowly hisses. There were six of them, and Lexa glimpsed more movement between some trees to their right. The bobbing tip of an upheld spear shone momentarily in the pallid sunlight and she could easily track the path of the lone sentinel. He was walking lazy circles around the grouped warriors and Lexa sneered contemptuously. They were being brash and careless, thinking that she was done, just because she was injured.
Evidently they didn’t know that a dogged prey was at its dangerous when wounded.
The ones she could see clearly wore the telltale red armband marking them as Ontari’s and their faces were scarred in the usual patterns of Azgeda. Typical then, that they would be so arrogant.
She glanced at Nita, deciding to turn their predicament into a lesson.
“What would you do?” She signed carefully, moving the bare minimum required to form the words.
The girl licked her lips, eyes darting from a man to the next, eyes hooded in thought before she answered.
*We could take them, but many. One has time to scream before we kill him.* Lexa nodded a fraction and she continued encouraged, *wait to see where they head? Circle around?*
She framed her thought within a question and Lexa blinked once in asset, pride brightening the green of her eyes to sea waters in summer.
A loud grunt drifted up to them from below and they turned their attention back to the arguing warriors, who clearly had split into two factions. One of them was wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. The others began to file away, leaving him to stand alone, staring viciously at their backs. He spit on the ground once before following and soon they had gathered their lookout and vanished out of sight.
Lexa waited and waited, counting her heartbeats while slowly birds and small animals resumed their treading around the clearing. Finally, when she was sure the warriors were gone she stood, and slowly began to pick her way down the other side of the slope. Nita followed quietly and they both paused to examine the men’s tracks. They clearly led back towards the river and angled North. The Commander calculated quickly, judging that the small warband would be back across the border by the next evening.
They walked away in the opposite direction, and Lexa set a ground eating pace, still taking care to leave as little a trail as possible. After a bit she stopped bothering to check - Nita was doing the job for both of them.
Their march continued uninterrupted, crossing over into boring, but Lexa pushed past the pain and exhaustion to keep her guard from slackening.She had learned during her years as Anya’s second and then as Heda that the lulls between dangars were often far deadlier than the danger itself. All it took was a moment of distraction and Lexa knew she’d been Commander longer than others because so far she’d avoided complacency.
It got colder as the day dwindled, shadows numerous and far reaching, and Lexa began to shiver, even as her brow was coated in sweat. Small, icy shards pricked her skin and the woods fell back into the utmost quiet as fat, lazy snowflakes began to spiral down from a sky that had changed color to become granite grey and threatening.
Day fell away suddenly, darkness that had been creeping at the edges of their path pouncing forth to swallow the world around them. Lexa was almost sure the patrol they’d met was the one most out from the place of the ambush, but wouldn’t bet a fire and their lives on it.
Lexa knew exactly where she was however, and after juggling the decision for an instant, she reached behind her to grasp Nita by the hand and pull her along so they would not lose each other in the darkness.
The outpost was not that far, but night had completely fallen around them, like a curtain of the darkest velvet, by the time it loomed, like a shadow a shade darker than the rest, before them. The snow had kept on falling, now a slap against their skin rather than a caress and it made the ground slippery and treacherous.
Lexa felt drained and chilled to the bone, hot and cold by turns. She knew that Nita must not be faring that much better, the hand she was grabbing icy cold and shaking in her hold. The Commander fought with herself one last time, hovering at the door before she lifted a balled fist and knocked resolutely.
Almost immediately the door opened, light and warmth spilling out on the gathering snow, causing her night vision to flee and leave her blind for the space of a breath.
She blinked away the salt in her eyes and the figure silhouetted in the warm light of a fire resolved into a woman, taller than her and a handful of years older. She was beautiful, just as Clarke had described her, perhaps more and jealousy chased the shivers shaking Laxa away for a moment.
Eyes unfocused with sleep brightened and widened with the shock of recognition, and the woman stepped back hurriedly, letting them inside as she fully took in their state.
“An honor,” she said barely above a whisper, bowing deeply, “an honor, Heda . I’m…”
“Oh,” Lexa interrupted, voice dropping several degrees to match the plummeting temperature outside, “I know who you are.”