Grey Eagle - Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

He rose the next morning, restless, feeling his confinement. He tinkered briefly, then abandoned it, dissatisfied. His breakfast came, and beneath the cup was a short, folded note.

"Raach will be gone tomorrow." .

For a moment he simply stared. His breath came loose then in a soft, audible sigh. "Can't get much plainer than that..." he whispered, and closed his eyes. But it only makes things worse...

Oh Aviel, ...what he'll do to me... His eyes opened and he gazed at the note, its silent appeal worming its way to his core, his fear rising to desperation like a startled bird snared.

"How can You ask when You know I can't?" he whispered. Please, he prayed, silently mouthing the word. I can't. I haven't got the courage...

I thought before that you wouldn't let him catch me, but that doesn't seem to be a part of things. I know You care about my body too, and You'd be angry with him, but that doesn't mean You'd stop him. I couldn't face...

Oh Dear God, I can't! I just can't! How can You ask when You know I can't? I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't hate me, I just can't. Don't hate me... Was he right? Oh Papa, please! Please, in the name of Jesus, help me! What can I do?

Peace .

As a crashing breaker disappears into soft ripples on the sand, so now did his panic. His head on his arms, he sat limp, almost sleepy, intrigued. I can't, but You can... Raach was right, wasn't he? I was being self important. All this time trying to earn what You have to give...

He wept then, this time in relief and gratitude. Fill me, Lord. He got up then, carefully disposing of his note. He sat on the bed and took up the mythra, revising what he had been working on before, adding, completing...

Raach came in that evening for the lesson. Arion met his eyes, fearing his distrust, but knowing he couldn't hide his new tranquillity. Raach's jaw set, and he nodded. The lesson went typically, but he was there waiting when Arion came out from his shower.

"So. Talk to me."

He sighed, sorrowful. "Will you try to crush this too?"

"That depends."

He nodded. "Remember when you said I was self-centered? Well, you were right. I was upset because I didn't know how to earn His love. This morning, I was really scared. But He touched me and told me to quit worrying." He laughed softly, glanced up, then gazed down at his marl. "He knows I haven't got what it takes, but He has. He loves me anyway, and He'll take care of me."

"You're back to thinking He won't let me hurt you?"

"No. It's more like... When you do, He'll be there. I've been so scared because... If you were right. If Satan's loose, and I had to defend myself. If I had to prove that I was worthy... Only I'll never be worthy. He knows it, and I know it, and it's okay. He loves me anyway. He doesn't need my help, I need His. You'll kill me eventually, but He'll be there."

"And you're not afraid of me anymore?"

A short, nervous laugh. "I wish! No, I've basically come back to what I said before, only now I know what it means."

"Which is?"

He studied his marl. "It means I haven't got anything." He looked up and explained, "You've got my body, He's got my soul. You can hurt me, but it's only temporary. I can survive it whether I want to or not."

"And I can't break you."

Arion frowned, suddenly unsure how to answer. "No... You probably could actually. Only... I don't know. I'm just not supposed to worry about it."

"I can, but I won't."

"Kind of like that. Maybe. I don't know." He hesitated, struggling to explain, to understand. "I thought you had. Maybe you did. Maybe broken doesn't matter either."

Raach smiled, nodding, visibly relaxing. "You really are a packet of surprises. Just when I have you figured out, you turn around and baffle me again."

"Maybe I'm not what you think."

He chuckled. "Maybe. But every time I decide that, you show me that you are."

"Nobody's perfect," he answered, smiling. "I could say the same about you."

"Truth. ...Can you believe now that the humans here care about each other?"

"Yes."

"And can you believe God knows and understands them?"

He smiled. "Yes. I know He does."

"Good enough then. You'll find I'm really not so bad if you don't fight me. I'm not evil."

His smile broadened. "Sharsa kept telling me that too. I never used to think Venators were, but lately I've begun to wonder."

Raach smiled and shook his head. "Stubborn."

The next morning Arion waited restlessly for his breakfast. When it came, he ate slowly and deliberately, cleaning his plate. When the dishes were cleared away, he sat with the mythra, praying quietly. Then he moved his chair to the doorway, and began to sing.

The ugliness of evil is more than I can bear
The beauty of His goodness is more than I can share
Ideals are for striving - we cannot reach them here
But if we give up trying, we'll always live in fear.

He was silent for a bit, simply feeling the serenity that enveloped him, cradling his soul with a glow, like sunbeams on a forest floor. He sang again, joyful, strong and real, yet muted by the knowledge of his vulnerability. Gone was the defiance, his heart focusing instead on the only freedom left to him.

Several days later Raach came in to see him. "You are very unpredictable, Cedrychad," he said in greeting.

Arion smiled faintly, uncertain of his mood. "I suppose that's in my favor... I could say the same about you."

"Truth? How so?"

"When I think you're bound to clobber me for something, you smile and walk away. When I think you'll only be annoyed, you try to kill me."

"...Expectations," he said slowly, considering. A faint smile flickered across his face, disappearing as he looked up. "I am not often surprised by what makes you hate, but it comes and goes."

"You mean like now?"

"Yes. That you feel better about yourself is simple, but where is the hate?"

He sighed deeply, easing his tension. "I had to let go of it. To hate too deeply is blinding. Pride takes over and I forget faith."

"Takes over...?" Raach queried, frowning in his fashion. "Explain."

"God's Spirit isn't in hate. To pursue hate is to leave Him behind. By releasing the hate, I can reduce my pride, and I do better."

"Pride and spirit again. You keep trying to separate them. A man with no pride is a man with no spirit."

"Yes and no. Pride is important as self-respect, as dignity. ...It's kind of like two vines, wound up together. If the spirit is healthy, it supports self-respect. But when dignity becomes conceit, the spirit strangles. Then they both collapse. Hate feeds the pride and smothers the spirit. It's better to let go of the hate than to let the spirit suffer."

"You haven't stopped hating," he observed musingly, "you've given up."

He smiled. "You can call it that if you want to. It's what made me so reluctant to let go; I didn't want to give in. But I'm not quitting Raach. I'm just letting Him worry about it. I haven't got what it takes to stop you anyway."

"Meaning He'll punish me for you."

"If He thinks you need it, yes. If He doesn't, no."

"But you think He will."

He shrugged, increasingly uncomfortable under Raach's intense gaze, mindful of the negative tilt of his ears. "That's not for me to decide anymore. You say you know Him. If you're doing your best to serve Him the way you know how, that doesn't mean He has to hate me. And the reverse is true too."

Raach hissed, contemptuous. "I detest groveling and I despise hypocrisy. Don't try to flatter me, it doesn't suit you. Your resilience astonishes me, but I know better. For all your posturing, it didn't take you long to attack your own. Souls are sacrosanct to you, but you will kill and use anyone to save yourself."

He frowned, wounded. "I didn't think they were human," he said softly.

"No? And just what were they supposed to be?"

He swallowed, uncertain and ashamed. "I don't know... It all happened so fast. But they were on your side, and... I wasn't trying to kill them," he finished lamely.

"And that makes it acceptable," he growled, his lip curling and his ears well turned back. "A Cedrychad does not strike without the willingness to kill.

"...Crippled is better than dead?" he demanded when Arion remained silent. "They haven't the means to fix such injuries. Or hadn't you noticed they lack a few things? ...They kill cripples, Cedrychad."

Arion looked up at him.

"That's right. The two you put down stayed down. You killed them just as surely as the mercy knife that slit their throats. Now sit there and tell me you are not Dokapka's bastard!"

Arion closed his eyes, holding his breath. God forgive me... He looked up then, meeting Raach's gaze with an effort. "Who are they? Where did they come from?"

He relaxed somewhat, sitting back now, but continued watching Arion coldly. "As nearly as we can figure out, they are apparently humans that got chased there a long time ago, in the beginning raids. It seems to have been two ships together. Perhaps three, though I think not.

"They escaped, but didn't have the power to get home again, and no one knew they were there. They shed their ideals quickly enough too, fighting over what they could salvage from the ships. Those that wouldn't fight were the first to die. They wound up splitting into groups, and they've been battling each other ever since.

"When we found them, they started handing each other over to save themselves. Taking captives from rival tribes is a regular past time for them now. Mostly they barter hostages among themselves, unless nobody wants them. If they can't sell their prisoners to each other, they trade them to us. But then, you're familiar with that part."

He nodded, humbled and heartsick. "They had no one to help them," he said softly. He looked up then, quietly defiant. "They will now."

"After what they did to you? You yourself told the Arlemagen that they weren't human. You attacked them. Your friends have followed your lead."

"You're lying," he growled, pained and hateful.

Raach's face darkened with disdain. "You think human ugliness is only on Pesdo? You think human viciousness is reserved only for venats? Blind fool. I could take you to any planet you hold and gut you on their living room floors, and some of them would even help me.

"You ride around in the Hammerstar with all your pretty little rules. Well you finally happened to be there when the big guns weren't. That's what happens, Cedrychad. Every time."

"Liar," he growled. "Dokapka's loose - if he's loose - and you're helping. You're trying to drag me down with you."

Raach snorted in disgust. "Kirtika. I thought you believed in truth. Is that only for what you like to hear? He's been loose for a long time. You with your spirit and your pride and your ideals. All your little rules worked out to suit yourselves, and you drop them anytime they get a little awkward.

"Yes, many humans are true to their faith, but most are liars. Go ahead, kyon. Blame me for what you did. Blame me for the ugliness of your race. We're used to it." He got up and left.

Arion growled his confusion, kicking the chairs, venting his fear on the physical certainty of his leash, savaging it without hope or expectation. He collapsed finally on the bed, staring at the wall.

He had grown up on Hlafden. If people were really like that, he would have known. ...But what, really, did he know? What had he ever seen during an attack except the inside of the potato house beneath their floor? Everyone was supposed to hide during unthwarted raids, but there would always be some who were found. Afterward, when everyone came out... Is it true? Dear God, is it true? All this time... All the little weird things... .

His feet dragged on the bottom, and he kicked down mightily, hauling on its jacket, forcing his head above the water. He gasped desperately, but the hold was so tight he could scarcely get any air, and he was quickly pulled back under.

He strained against the arm, pulling franticly at the waterlogged jacket it wore, then played possum... This gave him one more breath, but nothing else. He tried again, but this time there was no loosening of the grip. He writhed, weakly now, and knew that he had lost. He was drowning.

Suddenly, inexplicably, he was released. Too weak to care why, he simply fought for shore; had his feet not already been touching bottom, he could not have made it. Blinded by the silted water, he collapsed in the mud of the bank, choking. Hands clutched him and he swung at them, knowing he would be dragged back under.

"Here now, stop that. I'm tryin' t' help ya m'boy." Arion relaxed then, limp, as the hands pulled him up and out, dragging him to dry ground, dear, blessed, solid, dry ground... He was choking again, vomiting water.

When the coughing subsided, the man helped him sit up. "Esh, but you're sorry lookin' sight, y'are."

Arion forced a rueful smile. "Thanks. ...And thanks for real," he added, still blinking, but able to see the fuzzy outline of the hunting rifle sitting in the grass.

"Just returnin' the favor," he answered soberly. "My wife was on that carrier."

"Your wife...?" he echoed softly, sympathetic.

He frowned with a slight nod, looking out across the lake. Then, "Had me too," he said fiercely, looking down sharply. Arion said nothing, awkward in the face of what the man obviously considered his shame. He looked away again. "By the time I got loose... Makes ya wonder why God ever gave 'em brains."

Arion followed his gaze across the smooth water and nodded. It had been hard when the venators first came, back in his grandfather's time. By even the most the obvious standards, the venators ought to have souls, so no one dared retaliate. How many had died in the confusion? The decision had finally come down from the Board of Councilors: they were animals. Extremely intelligent animals to be sure, but they were animals nonetheless.

"They're the exception that proves the rule," Arion answered, almost automatically. His grandfather had never accepted the ruling, and had argued passionately against his decision to join the Gadamista.

The man didn't answer.

"Good night, Arion! Would you look at you!"

Arion looked up at Soren and smiled. "That bad, huh?"

"Worse! Still, you seem perky enough." He reached down and gave him a hand up. He smiled at the man then and shook his hand. "I'm Soren Kelsi. That muddy lump you dredged up is my wingmate."

"Morgan," the dark, burly fellow replied.

"Arion Dorios," Arion supplied as they too shook hands.

"If y'like, you can shower at my house."

Arion wondered about the man's wife, but nodded, not wanting to be rude by asking. "I guess I'd better, from all the compliments I'm getting. Thank you very much."

Morgan smiled. "This way." They followed him, attracting little attention as people located their friends and loved ones, or helped to ferret out and dispatch any remaining venators. A large crowd was gathered about the grounded carrier, already celebrating a reunion with those the venators had tried to take. Morgan glanced at it, but his pace never slowed and Arion reasoned that his wife must already be elsewhere.

As usual, the Gadamis were invited to the victory feast, and, as usual, they accepted. Arion, Soren, and the others reported to the Hammerstar, changed, and returned for the feast. Greeted at the shuttle hatchway by children, the Gadamis allowed themselves to be towed to the village quad.

A cheer went up, and festivities resumed. Throughout the evening, strangers would walk up and hug them, eyes sparkling. Laughter was contagious. This was the hero's welcome which Arion had grown accustomed to, and one which he lived for. While his ego was in part mere pretense, his dedication to his charges was deep and real.

He and Soren were seated beside Morgan and his wife, Alicia. She was a small woman in her third trimester, with a round face and curly brown hair. She was quiet, or perhaps subdued from her own ordeal.

"So why didn't you just shoot it?" asked Soren, his eyes twinkling mischief.

"Shoot what?"

"What? The venat that made such a bedraggled mud puppy out of you, that's what!"

"Ah, him," said Arion, smiling. "Why should I when there's such a fine marksman around to do it for me?" He smiled at Morgan. "Besides, I couldn't. My laser was full of water."

"I see," said Soren with mock seriousness. "That does tend to happen when you land your Starphire in a lake..."

Arion gave him a playful shove. "You...! My poor Namid's at the bottom of that lake, and you're making fun!"

"Not of her, pal, not of her!" laughed Soren.

"Uh huh. Okay. All right. You wait..." Arion sipped his drink to hide his smile.

Morgan listened quietly, his own smile broadening as the conversation progressed. "You should've told me you weren't playin' with 'im. I'd've shot 'im a lot sooner for ya."

"You too?" demanded Arion, incredulous and delighted. Soren said nothing, caught in silent laughter. Arion glanced merrily at Alicia, but she wasn't even smiling and he looked away quickly, granting her privacy.

Morgan tipped his cup to Arion and smiled. "Can't let ya'ave all the fun, now, right?"