The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

wine, she went to the window, raising one arm to lean against it, picking with her nails at the diamond-shaped bolts that held the glass in place. “I know. We tried to send word, but we had lost track of you. And there was so much to do, so much expected of me …”

Her voice trailed away. I shifted in my seat. “You do not have to explain anything,” I said. “You were—”

“Mother?”

I stopped, frowning. “What?”

She turned to me slowly. “You said you did not know about Mother.”

My throat had gone dry. I tried to speak, but I could not.

“You said you did not know about Mother,” she said again, fury rising in her tone. “What of Romil? Did you know? Did you receive our letter?”

I could not meet her gaze. I took one of the goblets of wine from the tray and sipped it. “I did.”

“You knew,” said Ditra, her voice toneless, like Mag’s trance. “You knew your sister had died. Yet you stayed away.”

“Whose sister?” I demanded. “How was she my sister? She did not help me. She did not comfort me. She did not care a whit whether I lived or died.”

“She was our sister regardless,” said Ditra. “Or do you think that Thada was not our mother?”

“I do not know what she was to you, after I left. She was never a mother to me.”

Ditra scoffed. “You are being ridiculous. She raised us, she—”

“Raised us? What does that mean to you? She never even noticed my existence until she needed me. Until I was useful to her.” I spat the word. “She never cared about anything we did, anything we wanted, unless it was in her service. You have seen this already.”

I lifted my arm and dragged down my sleeve again to show the family mark. Ditra’s sleeve was tighter than mine, but she ripped it open to show her own mark.

“We both have one,” she said. “But I have not forgotten what mine means, as you have.”

“You were away when she gave me the mark,” I said. “It was during the same trip you were on when I left. Mother decided it was time for me to receive it, whether I wanted it or not. And indeed, I did not want it. So she forced me. She summoned soldiers and had them hold me down so she could carve it into my skin herself. When I fought, she slapped me. No, she was never a mother to me. You were the closest thing I ever had to that.”

But that only made the dam burst. Ditra seized the tray of food and threw it against the wall.

“And I needed you, Albern!” she screamed. “I had no one. No one at all. When Romil died, do you think Mother was there to comfort me? Do you think she took care of me? Consoled me? Do you think she even gave me the cold comfort of allowing me to weep in her presence? After we laid Romil to rest, she called me to this chamber. Do you know what she said? ‘You will be my new lead ranger, of course. Someone will be along to show you your duties.’ Then she dismissed me. That was all. What did you think would happen? Did you think she would see the evil of her ways, and finally love me the way she always should have? You have never been that great of a fool.”

I could not answer. I had no answer to give. This was the true burden of guilt that had hung over me all the long years since I left home. This was what I had never been able to tell anyone, not even Mag. I knew Romil had died, and I knew I should have gone home—not for myself, and certainly not for Mother, but for Ditra. So that she would not be alone.

Ditra’s fury now was more than I could bear. I cast my gaze to the floor, unable even to look at her.

She straightened. “I am done with you. Tell Maia to return you to your cell.”

You might think it was a strange command—ordering someone to have themselves put back in prison. But I did it. I rose, left the room, and said nothing as I let Maia lead me back to my friends.

Dotag came to speak with Gatak again that night. They were on a ridge towards the north end of the Kahaunga valley. Gatak had found another cliff to sit on, a place to look out over the lowlands, a place with a good view of the city. Dotag strutted up to her, puffing his chest and rolling his shoulders. Gatak did not look at him right away. Her gaze was fixed on the smoke of the humans’ city.

Close now. So close.

After a moment of waiting for Gatak to look at him, to no avail, Dotag finally spoke. “It is nearly done,” he boasted. “No humans still dwell in the mountains. Only in their valley. I have sent the gifts we stole from them to other packs, and many of them have joined us. We are ready.”

Gatak looked over at last. “Are you?”

“We are many. We are strong. Their homes will not stand before us. They will flee. Any who stand and fight will die.”

“Then I hope none of them try to flee,” said Gatak. “I hope you kill them all.”

Dotag showed just a bit of his teeth. Gatak stepped closer and pressed her forehead to his. They both closed their eyes for a moment and shared a breath. When they pulled away, Dotag’s ears were back in pleasure, and he viewed her with a hungry look in his eyes.

But she had other things to see to.

“I must go for now,” she said.

Dotag’s face fell, and his ears came back up. “Go?” he said. “Go where?”

“To speak with the Lord,” she said. “And to ensure our victory.”

“We will win,” insisted Dotag. “The humans