Chapter 12
FARLI
“Mardok? What is it?”
He stands frozen in the doorway, a bleak look in his eyes. I recognize that look. He’s gone to the dark place in his mind. I move to his side and gently touch his arm, letting him know I am here.
Mardok jerks in surprise, seeming to come back to himself. He shudders and then rubs his arm. “Sorry.”
“All is well,” I say softly. “Come sit by the fire.”
He hesitates, glancing out at the moonlit snow, where Trakan is crossing over to the waiting Lady.
The other ship is lit up with all kinds of glowing lights of different colors and seems inviting.
In contrast, the Elders’ Cave is dark and shadowy, the only light the fire I have made.
Is it the dark that bothers him? Or is it the safety that the other ship represents?
I have to ask. “Do you wish to go back to your house on the ship? Shall I put the fire out?”
For a moment, he looks torn. Then he slowly shakes his head. “No. I’m good. I just have to remind myself they won’t leave me. They can’t.” But he still hesitates before pushing away from the door and moving toward the fire.
I follow him, torn between not wanting to pry and needing to know the truth.
If I am to help him, I must know what bothers him.
He drops to the floor by the fire, crossing his legs under him and warming his hands.
I move to his side, but instead of sitting, I lean against his back, drape my arms around him, and hug him from behind. I want him to know I am here.
Mardok touches my arm and then rubs it in slow, idle motions. “I’m sorry. Sometimes my mind gets away from me.”
“What is it that brings the darkness to your eyes?” I ask him. “Is it something here? On this planet?”
His hand tightens on my arm and then releases. It is almost as if he has to force himself to relax. “It’s not something we should talk about.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s in my past, and I need to get over it.” His voice is sour. He stares into the fire, ignoring me. “It’s not something I’m proud of, and you wouldn’t understand if I told you.”
“I understand that you’re hurting,” I say gently, and press a kiss to his ear.
“And that perhaps talking about it will make it better or help me to understand why you struggle.” I rub my nose against the bristle of short hair on his scalp, loving the scent of him and aching for him at the same time.
“But if you do not want to speak of it, I will not force you.”
He sighs heavily and focuses on the small fire for so long that I worry about him. “I’ve never told anyone…it’s difficult.” He rubs his mouth. “All anyone knows is that I left the military with an honorable discharge.”
“And that is…bad?” I do not know what this is, but it clearly distresses him.
“Not bad. Just not the truth. The truth is too hard to talk about.”
“But the truth is what makes your heart hurt.”
He squeezes my arm again. “Yeah.”
“Then tell me about it,” I encourage him. “Help me understand.” I want to know why he is so determined not to stay on my planet. I love it here, and it hurts me that he cannot see its beauty.
Mardok is silent for a long moment again. I wait patiently, because I can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He is nervous and unhappy, and this is taking all that he has just to talk about it. I will not push. If he is not ready, he is not ready.
“I don’t want you to hate me, Farli.”
“I could never hate you.” The thought is absurd.
I press another kiss to his ear and hug him tighter.
“Do you hear my khui singing to you? It knows how much I care for you. It knows how strong my love is. That is why it sings. The moment I met you, I knew you were the one for me. Whatever you tell me will not change that.”
“I killed people,” he says in a curiously flat voice. “When I was in the military, I killed people and I got them killed.”
I go very still, because this is not what I expected. Hunters kill prey, and they do it because they must eat. “Were you hungry? Is that why you killed?”
He jerks, startled. A horrified laugh escapes him. “Gods, no. I didn’t kill them to eat them, Farli. I killed them because they were the enemy. Or I thought they were the enemy.”
“Because you were military,” I say, trying to piece this together. My mind cannot comprehend killing a tribesmate, much less hunting them.
“It’s complicated and probably very hard to explain to someone who doesn’t know what war is.
” His sigh is heavy. “I envy you that. But let me try to explain so you can understand. So…let’s say one of your brothers decides he is going to make his own cave.
He does not want to follow Vektal’s leadership anymore, and he takes half of the tribe with him. What would Vektal do?”
I think for a moment. “He would be sad that the tribe is not happy and work harder to ensure the rest of our people are pleased with his leadership. It is not a fun job to be leader. He is responsible for all of us, and it weighs heavy on his heart.”
“Right. Now let’s say that he does not want the others to leave and will do whatever he can to force them to stay. That is what war is. People disagree and they get so angry at each other that it becomes a fight that ends in bloodshed.”
I gasp. “Killing?”
“Killing, yes.”
“That sounds horrible!”
“It is horrible. No one likes war, except for the people that don’t have to experience it first hand.
The chiefs make the decisions, but it is the hunters that must carry them out.
And the tribes are not just ten or twenty hunters, but hundreds.
Thousands. More hunters than you can possibly imagine, all fighting each other, not because they want to, but because their chiefs make them. ”
I feel sick to my stomach. “This sounds like a terrible thing to do.” I cannot imagine a chief that does not put the well-being of his people first. “If they want to leave, why does he not let them?”
“A variety of reasons.” He sounds tired, my mate. Tired and heartsick. “Sometimes it is pride. Sometimes it is not that people wish to leave, but a different reason. Maybe they look different or believe different things. Maybe they are on land that a chief wants for himself. Maybe—”
“This is awful,” I tell him, stunned. “Attacking people because they look different? Killing them?”
“Or worse.”
I cannot imagine worse, but judging from his grave face, there must be. I do not want to hear more of this, and yet I told him to confide in me, so I must listen. “And your chief made you hurt people? Kill people?” My poor Mardok.
He nods. “I didn’t join the military because I believed in my chief’s cause, though.
It was just…well, a way out. My mother died with a huge pile of debt, and she wasn’t married to my father.
They were long separated, so due to the law, it passed on to me.
I was just a kid, fresh out of mandatory schooling when I got hit with that.
The only way I could pay it off was to enlist in the military, which was offering to clear personal debts for soldiers that took on high-risk positions.
When you’re young, you think you’re invincible, so I signed up.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.” His expression grows distant.
“There were things I liked about the military. Mostly the camaraderie and sense of brotherhood. I didn’t have siblings, so it was nice to be part of something bigger.
To feel like you belonged. And I liked the physical exercises and the opportunity to work with my hands. It was just…everything else.”
I remain quiet, waiting to see if he continues talking.
“I was in for a few years. Managed to get by all right. Had my friends, my debts were paid, and if I didn’t always like the jobs I was assigned, they didn’t bother me much.
Then war broke out on a colony planet—Uzocar IV.
The local militia was attacking and killing everyone from Homeworld.
My regiment was sent to secure the situation.
That’s what we did, you know? We were the high-risk group, which meant we got sent in on the dangerous shit.
And most of the time, we were okay with that because our pay scale was a lot higher. This time…” He shudders.
I rub his back soothingly. Some of the things he mentions—‘pay’ and ‘militia’—do not make sense to me, but I do not interrupt. He needs to get this out of his head, and I do not want to distract.