3.12. Forced Truths II (Patreon)

Mumu patted my back as I dry retched. It was a deeply uncomfortable experience, bound as I was, with my stomach heaving but my body unable to support itself. At least the stone floor was cool; I rested my cheek against it when I wasn’t trying to hack up my intestines.

Inside me, Yuki circled and listened attentively as Mumu finished explaining the reason for our visit to Albei.

“So, you chased this Borba down, but didn’t warn the soldiers at the gate that a murderer was in the area?” That was Aslishtei, only the top of her feathered head visible from my current position.

“There was no reason to think he’d entered the city,” Mumu said from beside me, still patting my back. “Our plan was to detour just long enough to report to the lodge’s grandmaster before leaving the city to see if we could pick up Borba’s trail again. The report took longer than expected, though, and we ran into our brothers and sisters from Voorhei waiting outside.”

“Two murderers,” Sondo said. “Don’t forget the boy.”

“Is Voorhei planting killers instead of corn these days?” Aslishtei asked. “That’s not something the land knight will likely approve.”

“Borba’s the only murderer,” Mumu said. “Our Eight has nothing to do with your soldier going missing. Stop looking for signs that aren’t there. Just ask him who he killed, and be done with it.”

I felt big hands grab me by the shoulders and lift me up until Sondo’s face was right in front of me.

“That’s not a good place for you,” I said. “I may vomit again at any time.” I couldn’t help the words spilling from my mouth, but I managed to speak them in English, so the warning passed him by.

“That’s another thing,” Sondo asked. “What language is this?”

Mumu shook her head. “Ask about the soldier. Anything else is unrelated.”

Sondo frowned, but Aslishtei must’ve gestured for him continue, because he asked, “All right, boy, what people have you killed?”

“By my own hand, just Kaad Keelsson. He was a bandit and slaver who had captured the children that would later become my adopted son and daughter.”

Yuki’s qi slid through me, their thoughts sparkling to catch my attention. Our children are so cute.

“That’s true,” I said. “Our children are so cute, and talented skinners too. After I’d rescued them from the slavers, they helped me dress a chliapp lion—” I paused as my stomach felt like it was tilting to the side, but nothing came up. Sondo’s face remained unfortunately clean of vomit.

“There was more than one slaver?” he asked.

“Yes, two. The other was Boscun the Wall, but I didn’t kill him, not directly. His death was actually an accident. I’d put sleeping powder in the slavers’ food, but it ended up causing a fight between them instead. Kaad killed Boscun as a result.”

“And you killed this Kaad once he’d been weakened?”

“Yes, but only sort of. Kaad spotted me while I was hiding, and I had to fight him off.”

“Is there anyone else whose death you were involved in?” Sondo asked.

Yuki’s qi sped up—I felt them even cast Dog’s Agility—and their thoughts flew past almost too fast for me to catch. There was Ghitha, but it was us who killed him, not Ollie/Eight. But Ollie/Eight did put to rest Woldec and the rest of Ghitha’s family. That was a good thing. Woldec. Woldec. Woldec.

“There was this group... a family of four who’d turned into zombies. I came across them when I’d gotten lost after fleeing from a troop of bishkawi. At the time, I was sure my heart would pop from beating so fast from the running, the being scared, and the zombies—they surprised the hell out of me; had some good stuff on them, though. The candle stones came in handy, and Woldec’s knife is my favorite.”

“Anyone from Albei?” Sondo asked.

“Just Otwei—”

But it was the bear that killed her, Yuki said, practically shrieking in my head.

“Aye, but it was the bear that did it,” I said. “He bit her head clean off. It was disgusting. I didn’t like her—not at all—but no one deserves that. Gods, but she was a pain though; her ghost fought me for ten minutes straight before I was able to send her on to her next life.”

“Ghost?” Both Sondo and Aslishtei spoke at once, their voices overlapping. It sounded odd, since Aslishtei’s voice was already weird.

Mumu cleared her throat. “I can explain that. Our Eight has a talent for seeing and removing ghosts.”

“Just how,” Aslishtei asked, “does one acquire such a talent?”

Mumu patted me particularly hard on the back, distracting me from the question. “With all due respect,” she said, “that’s not something he needs to answer.”

Aslishtei walked into view, her shiny eyes peering at Mumu. “Why do I feel as if our Voorhei is hiding secrets?”

“We are a simple village,” Mumu said.

“Nothing and no one is simple,” Sondo said.

“Maybe, but it should be clear by now that our Eight had nothing to do with your soldier going missing.”

“Actually,” I said, my gods-be-damned mouth running off without me. “I think I’ve figured something out.”

Mumu practically smacked my back, and Yuki’s qi spun to get my attention. Yet, when Aslishtei turned towards me, and asked, “Oh, and what’s that?” I had to answer; I just had to.

“The people of Diaksha like their fives, don’t they? The hunter teams are made up of five people, and from what I saw at the gate, the same is true for soldier teams, except there’d been one separated from the others.”

“There are only four soldiers at the gate at this time,” Sondo said. “Otherwise you’d be right. We do have two teams searching the area around the city, but there shouldn’t be anyone on their own.”

“Ah,” I said, “that confirms it, then. The one on his own was a ghost—probably of Calfet of Huwata, your missing soldier. I must not have been able to tell he was a ghost because of the distance. Or maybe because he was freshly dead or particularly attached to life.” I sighed. “My guess is that Borba probably killed him.”

“Was your Calfet able to use magic?” Mumu asked. She went from patting my back to clutching my shirt.

“Not at all,” Sondo said.

Mumu released my shirt. “That’s a relief. We must keep Borba from collecting more spells.”

It looked like Sondo was going to say something in response to that, but Aslishtei put a hand on his shoulder. She asked, “Eight, can a ghost lead you to their body?”

Simple gestures—that’s how we communicated with Bindeise the Sugar Maker, remember?

“That’s right. Tenna’s Gift blocks anything complicated, but pantomime, as long it’s not too complicated, will work. And if it doesn’t, then there’s always—”

Yuki’s qi flashed in panic. Quick, what’s the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything?

“Forty-two,” I said.

Aslishtei quirked her head, “There’s always forty-two?”

Numbers are eternal, after all.

“I don’t know if that’s true, actually. Do numbers exist if there’s no one to know them, without people to conceptualize them? When does a collection of sticks become five sticks? Obviously, there are mathematical constants inherent in the universe’s operation, but oh... wait... there are gods, aren’t there? They must know math—at least I’d hope so—so the answer to the question is obvious: yes, there’s always forty-two.”

“What,” Sondo said, but it didn’t sound like a question.

I was wonder if I needed to respond, when Mumu interjected: “Our Eight is exceptionally bright, but easily distracted. At this point, we’ve clarified that he’s had nothing to do with the missing—”

“Murdered,” I added helpfully.

Mumu’s lips thinned. “Yes, thank you. Eight was not involved with anything to do with the soldier named Calfet of Huwata.”

“But he can lead us to the body,” Sondo said.

“Oh, sure,” I replied.

Mumu’s lips compressed even more. “Yes, that is a service the Hunter’s Lodge of Albei will be glad to perform. However, I insist that it be done after our Eight is out from under the effects of your spells and drugs.”

“You insist, do you?” Sondo glared at her. “After letting a monster loose in the countryside?”

“I do, and I’ll register a complaint with grandmaster if I have to.”

Sondo’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard how Voorhei’s lost two of its element-touched. You’re going to need land soldiers come the Long Dark. Do you really want to antagonize us?”

“I’d prefer not to,” Mumu said, “but just as you’re concerned for your people, I am for mine.”

Sondo’s practically growled in response, but Aslishtei once more placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“That’s enough. We’re all friends here, and should treat each other that way.” She glanced between Mumu and Sondo. “We’ve heard this Eight’s story of how he came to be a mankiller. He was not involved in the disappearance and likely death of Calfet of Huwata. We would, however, appreciate his help in finding the body—” she raised a hand to forestall Mumu’s complaint— “after he has recovered his wits.”

Sondo bowed his head, if reluctantly. “Yes, honored one.”

“Thank you, honored,” Mumu said.

“Was this supposed to be good cop, bad cop?” I asked. “Because I don’t think you were doing it right until the end there.”

All three looked at me in confusion, but I just shrugged in response. “What? It’s true.”

###

Yuki asked me to check my Status, so I did.

Conditions
Occupied (Evolving*), Sedative (1), Truth-Telling (2, Forced)

I had with me a wooden bucket in case I needed to vomit, but while my stomach was still queasy, I didn’t feel like I’d need it. Mostly importantly, my mind was finally, finally clearing, and I could think again.

Mumu and I sat on a couple of plain cushions in a small, unadorned room. There wasn’t any furniture, not even the low tables that seemed to be ubiquitous in villagers’ homes. The walls were stone, though, which was different enough from what I was used to seeing that it was interesting, and an open window let in the sounds of soldiers moving about outside, as well as the cool autumn air.

Sondo had dropped us off here to wait out the Truth-Telling condition. We were supposed to knock on the door once that happened, and someone would come to escort us out. Of where, I wasn’t sure...

“Where are we, anyway?”

Okay, so my mouth’s not under control, even though I’m feeling better.

That was so nerve wracking, Yuki said. We never want to do that again.

“That makes two of us.”

Mumu had been lost thought in thought, looking blankly at the door. At my words, she turned towards me. “Talking to Yuki?”

I tried to just nod in response, but was forced to say, “Yes.”

“You did well to hide them.”

I snorted. “The credit’s not mine to take. That was you and Yuki all the way. I have the both of you to thank for the save.”

Mumu shook her head. “I’d heard that land soldiers had a way to compel the truth, but it’s nothing like we have back home, is it?”

“Yes, it’s a completely different experience, and I don’t mean just the sensory distortions and nausea. The lodge’s truth-telling tea is much easier to get around.”

Mumu nodded. “Through lies of omission, you mean.”

“Yes, that’s right. For example—”

Stop! Yuki yelled.

At the same time, Mumu held up a hand to forestall me. “No, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t?” I asked. “I mean, this is the perfect opportunity to put any fears you have to rest. Kesa would jump at this chance, wouldn’t she? She’ll be upset if you let the opportunity pass.”

“Do you believe that Kesa doesn’t trust you?” Mumu quickly covered her mouth, then said, “No, wait, you don’t have to answer that either.”

I shrugged. “It’s obvious that she pays attention to what I do, asking little questions—nothing obvious, here and there. As the fidelity of my spirit eyes has increased, though, I came to feel how her curiosity poked at me, to pry loose details about my history and my relationship with Yuki.”

“Kesa is—” Mumu stopped, then began again. “She is who she is, and she bears the lodge’s burdens alongside me, the half that I am too young for.” Ah, there was bitterness in her voice, and she looked down at her hands, as if she’d let something precious slip and break.

“Inleio’s death was not your fault,” I said.

"I should’ve put Borba down like you’d suggested, but I didn’t.” Mumu shook her head in dismay. “He was so useful, though, and Kesa and Inleio both believed we should keep him until the Long Dark. They are the village’s wisdom. How could I disregard their guidance?”

Tears slipped from her eyes, and fell onto her hands. The moment might’ve been the first time she’d been forced to stop since the murder, the first time she’d had to face her grief without distraction.

I got up on mostly steady feet, and hugged her. “I’m so sorry,” I said, and that was all I could say. The feeling of love-affection-sympathy was bigger than anything else the forced truth-telling could pull out of me.

After a while like that, I felt Mumu sigh. “We grew up poor,” she said into my shoulder. “When my father died of a bad heart, we had to borrow a cart to take him to his funeral. I was four then, and still remember how it jostled. The light went to my mother, but it was meager and did little good. When the Long Dark came, she and the rest of the family nearly died. It was Inleio who saved us from the rampaging beasts. Oh, you should’ve seen him, Little Pot; he was at the height of his prowess then.”

“I would’ve liked that,” I said.

“Mmm. He was something special, even the lodge masters from the other villagers thought so; they often visited to consult with him. And they congratulated him when I turned five and was found to be Scout-Born. Then they did so again when we learned that I could use both qi and mana magic. ‘A good seed,’ they’d said, and, even as young as I was, I could see the envy in their eyes.”

“What happened then?” I asked.

“I joined the lodge.”

“At five-years old?”

“Yes. We didn’t have the money for the initiation, so Inleio arranged to have it waived, and he made sure I earned at least an apprentice’s share of any bounties I participated in. That money was a gift from the gods to my family. More importantly, Inleio taught me what it meant to be a hunter, the importance of what we do on behalf of the village and the people within it. And now he’s gone.”

“He’s not, and you know it,” I said.

“We are not like you, Little Pot. We can’t all see the dead.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said, and then paused to think about how Yuki and I had responded to Inleio’s death. “When I look deeply into who I’ve become since I joined the lodge, Inleio is there. He’s in what I know and how I know it. Yes, the World Spirit taught me how to hold the spear, but it was Inleio’s wisdom polished that knowledge. And I’ve only been in Voorhei for half a year! How much of Inleio is in you, you who’ve known him almost all your life.”

I started to pat her back, like she’d patted mine earlier. “The dead never leave us, not truly. The air they once breathed, still circulates. The words they’d once said, vibrates outward continuously. The things they’d done and said live on in the memories of those around them, impacting the generations that follow. That may not feel like much consolation right now, but just hold on... even the most grievous wounds can heal if you let them.”

“I am showing you my weakness,” Mumu muttered.

“Now that’s nonsense,” I said into her shoulder, not letting go. “Grief’s normal and good. People need it to clean their emotional wounds. Without it, their minds and spirits distort, bending them towards unhealthy habits.” I paused to let the words sink in, then said, “There’s a saying where I’m from that ‘hurt people hurt people.’ I’ve found it to be true. Also true is that I’ve found you to be one of the fiercest, most generous, talented, hardworking, enthusiastic, clever, vibrant people I’ve met in this life. You try so hard, and while that’s sometimes not enough in life, the continuing to do so will push-pull you along until things get better.”

I felt her small smile against my cheek. “Our Eight, you know that I am already engaged to Haol and Dena. You cannot steal me from them, no matter how sweet your words.”

“And they’re damn lucky to have you,” I said, “but you need to treat them better. You need to treat yourself better. Running off like you did was damn foolishness, and you know it. Not to mention what happened with the cutter hawks.”

The smile faded, which was sad, but the words had to be said.

“So you told me already.” Mumu sighed, and I felt her turn her head away.

“We’re stronger together,” I said.

“A truth,” she said.

“And our Mumu will find a way forward. She’s the cleverest hunter in our lodge. Next to me, of course.”

"You little devil, do you really believe that?”

There was a feeling, like I’d been wearing an invisible rope that suddenly fell away from neck. A quick look at my Status showed that the Forced part of the Truth-Telling condition was now gone.

I grinned, and whispered into Mumu’s ear, “I don’t have to answer that.”

###

About an hour passed before my Status was clear of debilitating effects, and then Mumu had us wait about another ten minutes after that, so that I could eat a stick of jerky. I wasn’t sure my stomach could handle it, given all the vomiting I’d done, but the food helped settle me.

When we were finally ready to go, a soldier came to get us. The woman wore mail, had a sword on her hip, and most interesting of all was her dark chestnut hair. She was the first person I’d seen since coming to this world that didn’t have black hair.

The soldier handed over my gear, and Mumu caught me staring while I was putting it on. She pinched my cheek. “So fickle, our Eight,” she whispered. “He is all honeyed words until he sees his first nathlein.”

“That’s a word I don’t know,” I whispered back.

But Mumu only smiled in response, and signed, “Will explain later.”

Well, my curiosity needed assuaging sooner than that, so I took a look with my Status Camera:

Elinei Nathta’s Soldier (Human)
Talents: Natural Fighter, Knows a Thing or Two, The Wall Unbroken

Huh, so nathlein isn’t like being dolbec or nisaak. Since it seems to be part of her name, maybe the reference is geographic?

You missed seeing it, Yuki said, but her facial features were more rounded than anyone else’s we’ve seen in Voorhei. She looked more like some of the people in your old world.

Elinei led us down a corridor towards a heavy curtain. In another shock, it was a plain dark green when every other tapestry or rug I’d seen had some kind of design woven into them—usually of plants and animals, but sometimes forest scenes or multi-colored patterns.

The room on the curtain’s other side was similarly decorated. There was a carpet on the floor and tapestries on the walls to soften the otherwise stone room, but all of the decorative features were in solid colors, tending towards the darker hues. It made the room feel heavy and closed-in, even with the door and window shutters open.

A soldier sat at a low table near the corridor’s exit, and scattered through the room were handfuls of people on cushions. A few turned to look expectantly at Mumu and me, but we weren’t who they were waiting for.

Elinei checked in briefly with the soldier. I heard her say, “Mulallamu and Eight of Voorhei,” and then she was showing us the door. “If you’ll follow me.”

We stepped outside into a U-shaped compound that nestled against the base of the city wall to our left. Directly under the wall were the stables, and I saw horses, oxen, and giant dogs, each in their own sections. In the middle of the U was a wide-open, cobbled courtyard that connected to a thoroughfare at the far end. To the right was a barracks, with several soldiers sitting out front on camp stools, taking care of their weapons and armor. Each of the buildings, including the—administrative?—offices we’d just left were two stories tall.

The air outside was thick with the noises of city life. The soldiers’ compound appeared to be adjacent to the gate, and there were all kinds of people hawking their wares to the people entering and leaving the city. No one seemed to be afraid of yelling, doing their best to catch the attention of those passing by.

There were scents too—of the nearby stables, obviously, but also of grilling meat, corn, and chilis; of sweat and unwashed human bodies; of woodsmoke and a faint coppery tang that was all too familiar lately.

Elinei had a long stride, and I needed to jog a bit to catch up. “I smell blood.”

She glanced towards me. “That’d be the Butchery. It’s to the south, but the wind carries the scent wherever it will.” I thought she’d say more, but there was only the sound of her boots on the cobbles after.

“I see, thank you. Are we in a hurry?”

This time, Elinei didn’t look my way. “We are. Word of your recovery has been sent to the captain. He will expect us at the gate.”

“And Nathta?” I asked. “What or where is that?” We were rapidly approaching our destination, so I figured I’d learn what I could.

Elinei turned towards Mumu. “Your apprentice asks many questions.”

Mumu’s smile in response was fleeting, but it did touch her eyes, even if only fleetingly. “He does, and is known in our village as the Little Pot of Questions.”

The soldier’s steps continued, but after a thoughtful pause she answered, “You are in Nathta; it’s the section of Albei where most nathlein live. And no, you may not touch my hair. Asking to do so is considered rude among my people.”

My eyebrows rose, as I hadn’t even considered such a thing. The annoyance must’ve been common enough, though, that it needed a warning.

“Our Eight’s face is so expressive,” Mumu said. “I can see the question before he asks it. To answer: a person who is nathlein is from elsewhere. My guess is that this fine soldier is from the north where the nathlein landed after crossing the ocean. They learned to live with the haltein there.”

So nathlein loosely translates to foreigner? And a haltein is someone who is native to a place?

“Wait, how big are the boundaries we’re talking about?” I asked. “Are the people from Voorhoos nathlein to the people of Voorhei?”

“No, the people of Voorhoos and Voorhei are of the same land,” Mumu said. “But if I were to cross the ocean, I would be the nathlein to the haltein there. Or if I crossed the mountains to the west or the deep forests of the south. It is a matter of distance and the character of the land—how it changes us and makes us who we are.”

Sure, okay, that makes sense. Someone living up in the arctic is going to have a completely different way of life than someone at the equator, although that’s admittedly an extreme example. I assumed there were nuances when people straddled regional boundaries and shared cultural practices.

I wonder what life is like across the ocean. Oh, the journey over must’ve been tough—who knows what kind of creatures live in the water.  Alas, Elinei’s determined stride brought us to our destination before I could ask.

Voorhei’s hunters stood to one side of the gate, clustered around Teila as if we were still in the wilds. They watched the people moving past with careful eyes. My own spirit eyes had remained closed after being drugged earlier, but even without them, the relief when they spotted Mumu and me was palpable.

Almost instantly, there were signs from Dura and Susu asking about our safety and wellbeing.

I signed back, “Safe, but have a task to do.”

Mumu must’ve said more than that, because Susu’s team separated themselves out from the other hunters and prepared to follow us outside.

There, on the other side of the gate, Sondo and Aslishtei waited.