12. Esag
ESAG
Tula shook her head. "Not that one."
Esag looked down at the shirt. "What's wrong with it?"
"It's a little faded." Tula reached past him into the closet and pulled out a dark green one, holding it against his chest. "This one is almost new, and the color makes your eyes pop."
He rolled his eyes. "You say that about every color I wear."
"That's because you have incredible eyes." She patted his chest. "And I don't say it about every color. Just blues and greens."
"Fine." He pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head, dropped it on the dresser, then pulled on the one she handed him. "Better?"
"Yes. But tuck it in."
"I never tuck anything in."
"Today you are."
He knew better than to argue with her and tucked it in.
Turning to the mirror, he felt a sense of déjà vu. He remembered standing behind Khiann in Navhon's house, comb in hand, while Khiann fretted over a tunic that had grown tight across his chest. Esag had refused to hand over the comb, arguing that girls liked the tousled look.
He smiled at the memory. It had been much easier to argue with Khiann than with Tula, but as much as he'd loved Khiann, he loved Tula more.
Khiann would laugh when he found out that Esag and Tula were mated. Gulan's little sister, who had always been feisty and whom neither of them had paid much attention to. He would be even more surprised when he saw Wonder, the new, confident female Gulan had become.
Or maybe he would find it distasteful that Esag had mated the sister of the girl whose heart he'd broken five thousand years ago. To him, it was ancient history, but to Khiann it would be last month.
"You look worried." Tula came around in front of him, reached up, and pushed his hair back off his forehead. It stayed back for about two seconds before falling forward again, as it always did. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Esag."
He let out a breath.
"I don't know what to say to Khiann," he admitted. "Alena told me that he doesn't remember Annani, so he certainly won't remember me."
Tula pursed her lips. "Just talk to him the way you used to," she said. "Pretend you saw him last month, which is what it would have felt like to him if he could remember anything."
"I'm not that male anymore." Esag turned away from the mirror. "The young Esag with a permanent grin on his face and a mouth that ran ahead of his brain is gone. Five thousand years of mostly unpleasant experiences changed me. I learned humility the hard way, and I'm not as funny as I used to be."
"Then put on an act."
He looked at her.
"I'm serious." She sat on the edge of the bed.
"You're not going in there to be yourself.
You're going in there to be the guy he might recognize, someone whose voice will sound familiar because he's heard it ten thousand times, mostly spouting nonsense that was supposed to be amusing.
He's known you longer than he's known Annani.
He might remember you before he remembers her. "
That made sense. "You are right. I just don't know if I can pull up that Esag. I don't remember much about the male I was back then."
She held out her arms. "Come here."
He crouched in front of her and leaned in, careful not to bump her belly.
Tula wound her arms around his neck. "How could Khiann forget this mop of red hair?"
Esag chuckled. "If he doesn't remember Annani's red mane, he isn't going to remember mine. Hers is a flame, and she's the most beautiful thing that has ever walked this earth. I was just a servant with unruly hair and an attitude. She was his mate."
Tula leaned away and looked up at him, the amusement gone from her face. "Is that it? Are you afraid that he will remember you as his servant and not his friend?"
"That's who I was to him." He sat down beside her on the bed. "We were friends, but we were never equals. A god and an immortal cannot be equals. That's just the way it is. They are more than us."
"That's rubbish." She waved a dismissive hand. "Lady Areana is a goddess, and Navuh is not, and yet he's the dominant one in their relationship. Even now, with him disabled and entirely at her mercy, she still dances to the tune of his moods."
Esag frowned. "That's not the same."
"No, it isn't. But it does prove that the rule about gods and immortals has exceptions, and even one exception proves that it's not a rule, only a social construct."
He couldn't argue with her logic.
"And here's the other thing, and this one matters more than any rules you can come up with."
Tula was on a roll, and everything she'd said so far had made sense.
He nodded. "I'm listening."
"Khiann was only twenty years old when he entered stasis.
" She poked him in the chest with one finger.
"He went into a box at twenty and came out at twenty.
In between, you have lived for five thousand years.
He's going to wake up in a world where everything is new to him.
He will need a guide in this new world, and that's you. "
Esag sat with her words for a moment, examining the logic and finding no flaw.
"That's an interesting angle I hadn't considered," he said.
"I know." She smirked. "You expected me to tell you that you were always Khiann's equal, which is true, but that would have made you feel better for about ten minutes before you went back to feeling inferior."
"I don't feel inferior."
She arched a brow.
"Well, I do, and for good reason. Khiann is a god, with all that implies, and he is Annani's chosen. Out of all the available gods, she chose him, elevating him to the highest station even among gods."
"And I chose you." Tula leaned into him and kissed him on the lips. "That elevates you to the highest station among immortals."
"Yes, you did, and yes, it does." He kissed her back, the way she deserved to be kissed, until she pushed against his chest.
"You need to go," she said.
"I do." He kissed her once more before heading out the door.
He stopped at the work shed.
The four faces were still lined up where he'd left them, and above them on the shelf stood the ones he'd carved of Khiann. He'd gifted the best ones to Annani, but he still had some left.
He picked up the best one, turned it over in his hand, then put it back.
Bringing Khiann a carving of his own image wasn't a proper gift. Perhaps he would give him the carving later, when he visited his work shed.
Esag sighed. It would be a long time before Khiann was well enough to stroll through the village, and even then he might not want to see his old friend's workshop.
They had been friends five thousand years ago. It didn't mean they could pick up where they'd left off and become friends again.
He went out empty-handed.
The path from his house to the square ran between beautifully maintained hedges and flowerbeds, reminding him of the palace gardens, and he wondered whether Khiann would see it the same way once they finally let him out of the clinic. Would it bring him peace as it had for him, Davuh, and Roven?
He hadn't told his friends about the invitation because Alena had told him only he could come, and he didn't want to tell them that. Perhaps later, after he saw Khiann, he would call them and explain that those were the Clan Mother's rules and that there was nothing he could do about them.
When he walked through the clinic door, Gertrude greeted him.
"Good afternoon, Esag. Khiann is asleep, but he should be waking soon." She waved a hand, indicating he should follow her. "Have you been in our basement yet?"
He shook his head. "I didn't even know the clinic had a basement. What's down there?"
"The labs, the operating room, a recovery room, and miscellaneous storage areas.
It's much bigger below than it is above.
" She snorted. "It seems to be a theme. The keep is also much larger below ground than it is above.
" She led him down the stairs. "The operating room is the largest, so we converted it into a ward for Khiann and his guards, who remain unnamed. "
"Anything I should know before I go in?" Esag stopped in front of the double doors.
"Don't lean over Khiann or the others. Approach them from where they can see you coming without turning their heads. That's still difficult for them." She pushed the door open with her shoulder.
It was easy to see that the room had been an operating room before it was turned into a recovery ward for five males awakening from stasis.
It was evident in the overhead lights and the floor drains, but instead of an operating table, five hospital beds were arranged in a row, and Annani sat in a rocking chair beside the middle bed, her back to the door.
Alena, who was sitting in one of the chairs lined up against the wall, got up the moment she saw him, crossed the room, and hugged him, which he hadn't expected.
They weren't close.
Perhaps that was her way of apologizing for keeping him out for so long, or perhaps they had grown closer over the past few days since Khiann had opened his eyes and her updates had become more frequent.
"He's still out," she said quietly. "But he should be waking soon. The pattern is usually twenty minutes of wakefulness followed by three to four hours of sleep."
"I don't mind waiting." He turned to look at Annani's back. "I should say hello."
She nodded.
Esag walked around the foot of the bed, stopping at a respectful distance from the chair, and bowed. "Good afternoon, Clan Mother."
He hadn't looked at Khiann yet because he was waiting for her permission to do so.
"Good afternoon, Esag." Annani did not get up, nor did she let go of Khiann's hand. "Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for permitting it."
"I apologize for monopolizing his time." She turned to look at him, and her eyes were steady and not at all remorseful. "I have been keeping Khiann to myself while you were anxious to see your old friend."
Esag felt his ears go hot.
The Clan Mother shouldn't apologize to him. It was not right. He was a nobody, taking advantage of her hospitality and living in her village as if he were a member of her clan.
"There is nothing to apologize for," he said. "If his time had been mine to keep, I would have kept it too."
Annani looked at him a moment longer, then nodded toward the row of beds.
"Go and look at the others until he wakes up," she said. "Perhaps up close you'll be able to tell who they are."
Esag walked over to the far end of the row and stopped by the first bed. The male was asleep, like the one next to him, so it was a good opportunity to get a closer look without freaking him out.
His head was nearly bald, with a shadow of dark fuzz starting to grow, and along the jaw, there was sparse stubble.
The face was thin, with the cheekbones standing out, and the nose was unremarkable.
No bells rang in Esag's head, and he was ready to move to the next bed when the male opened his eyes.
They were dark brown, nearly black, and he was looking at Esag but didn't look frightened. Puzzled was a better description, and then he frowned, and a thread of memory began to form in Esag's mind.
It was not recognition, but there was something about that frown and the way his head was slightly tilted that seemed familiar.
"Good day," Esag said in the old tongue. "My name is Esag. I was squire to Khiann, son of Yaeni and Navohn, but that seems to mean nothing to you."
The male's gaze did not shift. His eyes were glued to Esag's face as if he was trying to place him as well.
"Perhaps we met in Ninkasi's temple. Khiann and I used to visit the tavern often."
The male's frown deepened, and that thread that had begun to form in Esag's mind grew more substantial. He pictured the male with a beard, a bushy, dark one, and a head of close-cropped black curls.
A name slithered down the thread and then fell into Esag's mouth.
"Adaluh?"
The male's frown extended to his lips, turning the corners down, but there was no spark of recognition in his eyes.
"No?" Esag asked. "Doesn't ring a bell? Oh, well. It was worth a try."
He smiled at the male to reassure him that he had done nothing to displease him. "Five thousand years is a long time, and I've forgotten many faces and names. If your name is indeed Adaluh, I'll be surprised. Happily surprised."
The male blinked.
"Farewell to you, my nameless friend."
Esag moved on to the second bed.
This male was bigger, broader across the shoulders, even though they were still missing the flesh that would make them substantial. He was asleep, his mouth slightly open, and Esag looked at him for a long time, waiting for some spark of recognition or the tip of a thread.
There was nothing.
He walked over to Khiann's other side and started at the far end.
The third and fourth were as unfamiliar as the second, but Esag's mind began to act up, offering him half-remembered scenes from the barracks where the guards had lived and trained.
He returned to Annani's rocking chair and wasn't sure whether he should bow again or not.
"Anything?" she asked.
"One," he said. "Maybe. The one at that end. A name came to me, but I don't trust the memory, and he didn't respond to it."
"What is the name?"
"Adaluh."
Annani tilted her head. "It sounds familiar, but then it reminds me of Dalhu, so that might be the source of the familiarity."