Nomvula

47. A Bridge Built

To Ndoda's credit, the comment didn't seem to offend him. "I've stalked through the Elephant Plains eight times with Athi. Forgetting blood, he is my brother, and I'd trust him with my life. But remembering blood, I am your brother. If life must be risked for yours, it will be mine."

"Bakhonto. For once, Ndoda, just think. If the plan goes awry and Ndlovu captures Khaya and I, at least you will be here. If all three children to the Queen are trapped in enemy territory, this whole thing comes to nought."

"That's where you're wrong. Ma insists Athi and I cover your tracks from the shadows. She says we are the last two she trusts to take care of you. We will stay unseen. Athi is the better Long Walker but if it comes to worst, you will want me in a fight." His gaze pierced hers, then it drifted down to her cheek. "In that regard, Athi has already failed you." 

Asanda was glad for the ring in her hand. It stopped her from slapping Ndoda. "You would speak that much ill against your brother?"

Ndoda had shrunk back into himself, but that final thread of resolution was clearly unbreakable. He was a man lost, but with a point to prove... to someone. "As a brother, I would speak of Athi's failings with both pragmatism and love, as you do with mine. I'm also insisting he come along, so he can make amends for his failures. I'd like the same, Asanda."

And with that, Ndoda stood and left. He didn't wait for an answer, but by the ancestors, the king-in-waiting hadn't made a request. 

"Hale or broken, that boy will die fighting his own reflection," Anket said from the shadows.

"If that is the only enemy left to him, then I've done my duty." Asanda looked down at the half-complete ring in her hand, set it down on the table, and rested her head on her forearm. "I need to rest, Anket, but I want these rings done before I leave tomorrow."

"Of course, Princess. I'll finish up here."

**

Dew formed on Anathi's bald scalp as she watched the mist slowly drift back towards the Wayfarer. Though she had been standing here since pre-dawn, stone-still, her focus had drifted to every crevice of the hill it could touch. She had checked on the holding cell deep in the bowels of the hill, still locked. The Inner Plainers in the guest quarters were groggy and queazy and tired from drinking questionable beer during the hottest day of the year. The grave at the foot of First Hill was still empty, and so were the manses at the top of First, Second, and Fourth. There was no need to check on the Princess or the youngest Prince, because they stood next to her now.

The Princess -- Asanda, the name was clearer out here, where it wasn't mingled with the two hundred others in the manse -- kept squinting through the mist. Every now and then, one of the warships would ghost between two hillocks and flash its storm lights through the haze, but Anathi didn't need eyes to see. After all, her body was made of the clay at the bottom of the river. Her essense was eternally tied to the Wayfarer, perhaps more than Third Hill. 

On a normal day, there would be two ships patrolling this section of the river at all times. There were four today. Unnecessary, given that each ship kept ten longspears at all times, but a good enough show of force to keep the Elephants from trying anything especially bold. But there would be time enough later to worry about that.

Anathi reined in her spirit and focused instead on the siblings' conversation. They spoke as though she was not standing directly behind them, which was fine. The Queen might want her to relay their words later.

"So, Ndoda," said the younger Prince. Khaya. Ah, a name of good omens, though as a house spirit she was biased.

Anathi could feel their heartbeats through the earth. Asanda's quickened, though her body was still.