All Things Begin - The Anmah Series Book 1

“Captain Mistri!”

He vaguely recognized Mathi’s voice, but he could not move. He heard the boy’s footsteps approach, and then he felt hands running over his body.

“Are you all right, sir?”

“I am fine, Mathi. Just a little tired.” He looked at the boy and smiled. “Do not worry. I will not die from this. Blades cannot kill me anymore.”

“Maybe not,” the boy said, “but you are still hurt, and you are still bleeding. Come on, Zahin, let’s get him inside the walls.”

Ga’briyel felt two sets of hands haul him to his feel, but he could not put any pressure on his right leg, so he leaned heavily on Mathi as the two boys helped him back to the town. He looked down at the person on his left side and was surprised to see the same boy who had shot Padmal and the other Asabya. The boy who had been possessed by the Azazil.

“Zahin is your name?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy mumbled.

“Well, Zahin, I am in your debt. Padmal was about to cut off my head when you shot him.”

“I know, sir. I could not let him kill you.”

“It would not have killed me. I know that is hard to believe, but no bladed weapon can kill me. I would have healed from even a beheading.”

The boy shrugged. “Even so, sir, I could not let him do it. Not after what you did for me.”

“What do you mean?”

They had reached the square, and the boys set Ga’briyel down on one of the benches in front of his house.

“I knew what was happening, sir. Every second of every day I tried to fight the Azazil, but it was too strong. I could not stop it from hurting you and your wife.”

Ga’briyel smiled. “She is not my wife, Zahin, but I know what you are saying. I am glad I was able to help you, although, I must say that it was Nikale who banished the Azazil, not me.”

“I know that, sir, but you were the one to bring it out in the open. It was clever enough to keep in the shadows for almost a year until you came. Then you started interfering, and it decided it had to destroy you.”

“Ga’briyel!”

He looked up and saw Sophyra rushing out of the house toward him. He glanced down at Zahin and was surprised to see that the boy was gone.

“Where did he go, Mathi?”

Mathi pointed down the alley where Ga’briyel had almost violated Sophyra. “He has always been good at being silent. Maybe that is why the Azazil chose him.”

“Maybe.”

“My love, you are bleeding!”

He chuckled at the panic in Sophyra’s voice. “It is not like you have never seen me bleed before, Sophyra.”

“This is not funny,” she said. “You are hurt.”

“I am,” he answered, “and I will heal, just like every other time.”

“You will,” Nikale said as she appeared behind Sophyra, “but there is no reason for you to bleed out in the meantime.” She knelt down in front of him. She had several rolls of bandages in her hands which she set on the bench next to him. “Take off your boots and breeches, Captain.”

“Here? What will people think?”

Her lips twitched as she tried not to smile. “They will think you are brave and caring and a virtuous man who was wounded while protecting them. Now take them off.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He did as she said, and when he was down to his smallclothes, she pushed the fabric up his right leg so that she could examine the cut on his thigh.

“How much pain are you in right now, Captain Mistri?”

“Compared to what?”

This time she did smile. “Compared to no pain at all.”

“A lot.” He could tell the wounds on his chest and back where the sword had gone through him were still bleeding, and he drew his shirt over his head. Sophyra gasped when she saw the blood flowing down his chest to stain his white smallclothes red, and Nikale’s smile fled. “I do not know which hurts worse, my chest or my leg.”

“Well, I can do something about that. Mathi, get me a mug of hot water, please.”

“Yes, Nikale.” The boy sprinted into the house.

Sophyra sat down next to Ga’briyel and took his hand. “How can you stand it, my love?” she asked, her voice catching. “How are you still—“

“Still what? Still conscious? Still sane?”

“Yes.”

He laughed at that, but stopped with a groan as the pain in his chest flared into an inferno. “Bride of a troll, my heart, please do not make me laugh. It hurts.”

She ran her free hand over his face, and he kissed her.

“Sophyra?”

He broke the kiss and glared at Nikale. “That is rude,” he snapped, and he growled when he saw the grin on the old woman’s face.

“Yes, it is, but I need something. You can get it for me, if you would like, Captain.”

“I think not,” he said.

“What do you need, Nikale?” Sophyra asked.

“I need you to get some water and rags and clean Captain Mistri off so that I can see which wounds need treatment. I cannot tell how much of this blood is his and how much is from the men he killed.”

“Yes, Nikale, right away.” Sophyra gave Ga’briyel a quick kiss on the cheek and ran inside.

“I hope you truly appreciate what you have in her.”

Ga’briyel’s head snapped toward Nikale. “Of course I do,” he said with a frown.

“Do you? Do you really understand how much she loves you? Do you really understand what it means for her to trust you completely? After what she has been through?”

His frown deepening, Ga’briyel said, “I think so.” He looked toward the house. “I know how much she loves me. I feel it every single day. Even when she is angry with me or hurt or sad, her love surrounds me like a mother’s hug.”

“Have you seen her thoughts about you?”

“No. I try not to violate people that way unless it is necessary.”

“Well, I cannot see her thoughts, but I can see the way she looks at you when you cannot see her. She loves you, Captain Mistri, but more than that, she trusts you. She trusts you with her life and with her heart. She has given herself to you completely, and if you ever do anything to damage that trust, she might not survive it.”

“Why would I ever do that? I love her just as much.”

“I know you do, but it is different for her. She has not been able to trust anyone for the last fifteen years. Every second of her life has been spent in fear and pain and uncertainty. Now she has decided to trust you, and she will be crushed if that trust is ever broken.”

Ga’briyel was about to answer when Mathi and Sophyra came out of the house together. He looked at his heart and tried to see what Nikale was talking about, but Sophyra just smiled at him and sat down next to him with her bowl of water and rags.

“What were you two talking about?” she asked as she dipped a rag in the water and gently wiped the blood from Ga’briyel’s face.

“Nothing important,” Nikale said before he could answer. She reached into one of her pouches and put a powder into the mug of water Mathi had brought. Swirling it around, she handed the mug to Ga’briyel. “Drink this.”

“Will it put me to sleep?” He stared into the mug after taking it.

“No, but it will help with the pain.”

He sniffed it and grimaced, but he quickly drained it, burning his tongue in the process. It tasted worse than it smelled.

“Son of a troll! That is awful!”

Nikale chuckled, and Sophyra smiled. “The best medicines taste bad,” Nikale said as she waited for Sophyra to clean his chest and back. When she was done, the only wounds on his torso that were still bleeding were the ones from the sword thrust, and Nikale had Sophyra hold folded up bandages against the wounds while she wrapped a third one around his chest to hold them in place. Sophyra then cleaned off the rest of him, and Nikale bandaged the few wounds that were serious enough to still bleed. The rest had already healed.

“There,” the old woman said when she was finished. “That should do it. How’s the pain now, Captain?”

“Better, Nikale, thank you.” He put his hand on Sophyra’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet. “Come, my heart. I need to eat something and then sleep.” He glanced at Nikale. “Yisu has not told you that the town is going to be attacked before morning, has He?”

“No, Captain, He has not.”

“Good. Maybe I can have a little peace for a while.”

Nikale studied him. “If you do, Captain, I suggest you appreciate it. I have a feeling peace is not something that will be around you very often.” She looked at Sophyra. “Or those who are with you.”

“Regrettably, I agree with you. Maybe for a little while, though. I can always hope.”

Sophyra helped him inside, his boots and clothing in her free hand, but instead of leading him to the dining area, she guided him up the stairs.

“What are you doing? I said I need to eat something.”

“I know you did, but you are still weak. You are going to get in bed, and I will bring you your food. What do you want?”

“Anything that is available, my heart. I am starving.”

When they got to their room and the door was shut, she said, “Give me your smallclothes.”

“Why?”

“They are covered in blood. I am going to have them cleaned and mended.”

He grinned as he slid his last piece of clothing off, but she only held out her hand. He placed his smallclothes in it and moved to the chest of drawers and the basin of water on the top. “Do not be long, Sophyra,” he said with a wink.

She smiled and carried his boots and clothing out with her as she left. He cleaned off the last of the blood and climbed into bed. He had been teasing when he told her not to be long, but now he wondered if he was going to be able to stay awake long enough to eat. He forced himself to sit up against the headboard to wait. He really did need to eat, especially since he had not eaten much at last meal.

Sophyra came back within ten minutes, and she smiled when she saw that Ga’briyel was asleep. He was sitting up, and his head had dropped onto his right shoulder. She put the bowl of soup on the chest of drawers and went to him. Carefully, she pushed and pulled him until he was lying down, and then she pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“Sleep well, my love,” she whispered and kissed him softly. She picked up the bowl, left the room, and walked down the stairs. In the kitchen, she poured the soup back into the large kettle that was hanging over the fire in the huge stone fireplace. Then she moved to the basin to wash the bowl, but her hands started to shake, and she dropped it. It broke into several pieces when it hit the floor.

“Sophyra, are you all right?”

She turned around to see Tero in the kitchen’s doorway, leaning on his crutch. His kind words and concerned voice caused her to lose complete control, and tears began streaming down her face as she shook her head. He hobbled toward her and pulled her to himself with his free hand. “What is the matter?”

She could not speak but only clung to him as she sobbed.

“Come on,” he said, leading her out of the kitchen. “Let us talk.” They went into the front room, and he sat her down on one of the plush couches before sitting next to her. Sophyra had stopped crying, but her hands were still shaking. “What is going on?”

“I do not know,” she said with a small shrug. “I just suddenly…I do not know.”

“He will be fine. You know that, right?”

She nodded and looked down at her hands which were clasped tightly in her lap. “But how much more of this can he take, Tero? I know his body will heal every time, but what about his mind? How much more killing can he do before he becomes hardened to it all? How long until he is not Ga’briyel anymore?”

Tero stared at her for a moment, considering his next words carefully. “A long time, I think.”

Her head came up, and she caught her breath. “Do you really think so?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because he has you. He loves you, Sophyra, and you will keep him grounded. Dinton and I talked about this the first night out of Torkeln. He needs you to make sure he does not lose himself to the fighting and the killing.”

“And just how am I supposed to do that?”

Tero studied her for a moment. “Do you realize how much he hurt inside when you were angry with him? After he hurt you? He would do anything for you, even if it puts him at risk. All you have to do is ask.”

“What if I asked him to stop killing?”

“I do not think he can completely, since there are still Daitya and Azazil and Yisu only knows what else out there, but I think you could ask him to only kill when absolutely necessary. Besides, after the past couple of days, I think he would be more than willing to put his sword down for a while.”

“I suppose I could try,” Sophyra said, standing up with a sigh. “Thank you, Tero. I needed to hear that.”

“You are welcome.” She had taken a step toward the stairs when he said, “Sophyra?”

“What?”

“As much as I am sure he wants to stop for a while, you have to remember who he is. If he does not kill, the world is doomed and Sayatan wins.”

“I know that. But he needs some peace or he is going to go crazy. I have seen it after the last two fights. He tries to hide it from me, but he does not do a very good job of it.”

“You are right, but what can we do? He is who he is, and nothing is going to change that.”

Sophyra left the room and went up the stairs to her room. She opened the door quietly, and when she shut it behind her, she looked at the bed. Ga’briyel had only moved enough that the blanket had slipped off his torso, and the bandages around his chest were visible. Sophyra tiptoed to the bed and sat down next to him. Ga’briyel’s eyes opened a slit, and he smiled.

“You are not dressed for bed, my heart,” he said, his words slurred with sleep.

“I am not tired yet,” she answered, and he reached toward her. She shied away, and his smile slipped.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing. I just do not want to hurt you.”

His eyes came open fully. “Hurt me?” She gestured toward his chest. “Oh, that? That is nothing.”

He reached around himself and unwound the bandages. As they fell away, smooth, unblemished skin appeared. When the bandages were gone, his chest looked as if nothing had happened to him. The only signs that he had been hurt were the smears of blood left behind. Sophyra reached a hand out and trailed her fingers down his chest.

“See, I am fine.”

Her brows came together, and she scowled at him. “I know it was painful, Ga’briyel. Why do you pretend it was not?”

“I do not. I have never denied that it hurts, Sophyra.” He sighed as he reached down and unwound the bandages from his thigh. That wound was gone as well. “But the pain is temporary, and I heal quickly. You will heal quickly if you are injured. It is part of who we are.”

“I know that, Ga’briyel, but you are so detached about it. It worries me.”

“It is not detachment; it is more like resignation. I know I am going to be hurt, and I know I will heal. Every single time. Was it painful to have a sword run through me again? Of course it was. Just as painful as the first time it happened. Even more so, for this time, death did not take away the agony. The first time, at Desa, I died almost immediately, but I still remember the pain before I did. But there’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening again and again and again. I am simply accepting that fact and steeling myself against what I know is coming. Just like I have to steel my heart against the possibility of losing you. I cannot give into my pain, Sophyra, whether it is physical or emotional. I know that, but if you die—if a Daitya or an Azazil kills you—I will have no reason to stay who I am. I know that if I lose you, I will lose myself as well.”

Sophyra said nothing, but she moved close to him and laid her head on his chest. She was comforted by the steady beating of his heart and by his gentle hands on her back and shoulders.

“Please do not worry about me, Sophyra,” he said softly. “I am just trying to find my own way to deal with what is inevitable. I am sorry if I seem callous, but I am not.” He held her to himself and sighed. “I love you, and everything in me wants to make sure that you always know that.”

“I do know that, Ga’briyel, and I love you, but I am afraid that our love will not be enough to keep you from changing into someone neither of us will like.”

He kissed her hair and settled into the blankets. She was lying on top of them, and he hugged her tightly. “I promise to do my best not to let that happen. And I think you are wrong. As long as I have you, I will stay true to myself.”

“I hope that is true, my love,” she whispered, and she lay still until he fell asleep once again. Only then did she get up, change into her nightdress, and climb into bed next to him.