Page 8 of Humans Don’t Have Horns (A Crown of Blood and Magic #1)

Chapter Six

Lian

Apparently, a good pace is a fast pace, and Daton’s steps are twice as large as mine.

The day is hot and moist. The azure sky is clear.

The pine trees are cramped. We walk deep into the woods and keep off the trails.

The sound of crushing pine needles under our feet is constant, interrupted only by the tweets of random birds.

My dress - if you can call the shapeless, threadbare brown cloth the Mongans clothed me in a dress – clings to my back from sweat.

My cloak, too heavy to be worn, is heavy in my hand.

When I say I’m hungry, I regret it deeply, since what he gives me is even viler than the porridge I ate in the swamp.

I spit out the bite I took, the sticky texture lingering on my tongue.

Daton shakes his head scathingly.

“I’m not spoiled. It tastes like vomit. What is it?”

“Roram is a root that grows in the swamps. It’s the only thing that grows there and can be eaten by humans.”

I frown. “Does it taste different to you?” Maybe I am spoiled.

“Tastes like vomit’ is pretty accurate.” He drawls, “The swamps are not meant to be lived in. ”

“Where did your people live before the swamps?” What he just said made it sound like this wasn’t always their home.

“You don’t know?” He frowns at me. “We lived all over Amada.”

“Let’s go,” he says suddenly, motioning for me to get up “I’ll try to kill something for dinner on our way.” Well, that’s nice of him, in a bit of a disturbing way.

“But you have no weapons,” I say.

He gives me a dismissive look in response and starts walking.

He does kill something later in the afternoon—a viper in one of the trees.

He just catches it by the lower part of its head, and then I hear the sound of the snake’s skull crushing in his hand.

The resemblance to the sound of the soldier’s skull crushing on the night of my kidnapping makes me gag.

And that’s even before I realize this is his idea of tastier food.

We walk all day until we reach a small patch of land near a creek hidden by trees and bushes. Daton lights a fire by hitting two rocks together. Then he busies himself peeling the snake’s skin off.

“What’s your name? You never said.”

I’m so surprised by his question that it takes me a couple of seconds to answer. Enough for him to raise an eyebrow in question. “Lian.”

His only response is to grunt. Then he starts talking. “Originally, Mongans were farmers and merchants. We were always outcasts in Amada. We were never allowed to own land, but we were permitted to work the land of others.

“But almost a hundred years ago, the Aldonians decided having us as outcasts wasn’t enough.

They started saying we are the essence of evil.

The priests talked of a new prophecy. The king and his nobles made new laws.

Only, they never bothered to tell us. Baghiva and I were newly wed.

We worked a field of wheat for a local lord in Aldon.

So when our lord came with his men to our house, I called Baghiva out to give them refreshments. ”

“Wait. I don’t understand,” I interrupt him. You said this happened a hundred years ago?”

He frowns. “What don’t you understand? ”

“But it happened to you.” What am I missing here? He is not more than thirty. Maybe even less. How could it have happened to him?

“You know nothing of Mongans, do you?” He looks at me incredulously.

“It’s like you grew up in a bubble. But I guess you did in many ways.

” He shakes his head in a way that makes me feel dumb.

“A Mongan can live to the age of three hundred if they die from a natural cause. Although, Mongans very rarely die from natural causes, thanks to your people.”

“So how old are you?”

“A hundred and eighteen.”

I scoff. “I’m supposed to believe you’re a hundred and eighteen. That’s crazy. You look thirty at most.”

“Well, I’m not,” he snaps. “Do you want to hear of Baghiva or not?”

I nod, and he continues, “In Mongan culture, hospitality was always a big thing. So when our lord came, I called Baghiva out to give them refreshments. He had six men with him. And they had Kozari lassos. Baghiva and I could have killed seven men with our bare hands. That is another thing they probably didn’t tell you about us.

We outlive you, and we’re stronger than you.

But that was the first time I’d ever seen a Kozari lasso.

I never knew there was such a thing. And they had three of them.

I can’t describe what it feels like to be shackled by it.

Because saying it’s like being burned alive is not even close.

They shackled Baghiva with it too. They pinned me to the ground while they took turns for hours. ”

Bile rises to my mouth, and it’s difficult to breathe.

Daton continues, his eyes on the skinless snake he holds, his hand smeared in its blood. “And they just left her there for the vultures. They didn’t even let me bury her,” he says, his voice cold and distant. It only makes it more heartbreaking.

“That is so awful. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” I tell him, wiping away tears.

“I don’t give a fuck about your sorry, Princess. It is your blood that makes my people bleed. Your empty words are nothing more than an insult,” he says .

I want to say something clever to his wounding words.

But why wouldn’t he think this? He is a Cursed One.

Everything was taken from him in the most brutal way by the people my father rules.

What can my empathy mean for him? What is my pain to his?

What good will it do if I tell him of my mother’s and sister’s brutal deaths, that my father has spoken to me only once in the last nine years, and that my brother has never even given me a glance?

That this here, under his hateful stare, is the least lonely I’ve been for nine years?

That I can’t breathe thinking of that night?

That I’m powerless and weak. That I’m a failure in every way.

That I know what it is to be a toy of men.

I can’t say any of this to him. He looks at me, and all he sees is them.

It matters not that my hair is white, that my eyes are white.

That I fit with no race in all of Amada.

I don’t have horns. I’m a Puresoul. I am the daughter of the one who rules them all.

So instead of all this, I ask, “What did they do to you?”

“Enslaved me. It took eight years until I got myself free. I killed them all. Every Puresoul that was there. And then I killed a lot more of them.”

“You are the Butcher.” It’s not a question. I already know.

***

I wake up to daylight. Daton is sitting near me, his prayer beads in his hand again. “Ready to go?” he asks, his eyes on the prayer beads.

I follow him silently for another day. The conversation of last night is heavy between us.

These are not the things I was taught, but I know in my heart he told the truth.

I’m honestly not surprised. The ways of Aldon are harsh, and the True Religion is just as brutal.

If you sin against Sun, then death is the only redemption, and there are no greater sinners than the Cursed Ones in their blunt refusal to abandon the Goddess. We walk the entire day in silence.

After he lights a fire in the evening, I ask, “What was that woman’s great sacrifice? She said it was greater than yours.” What can be worse than what Daton shared with me last night ?

“What woman?” he asks, puzzled.

“The one who wanted you to force me.”

He grimaces at my words, at the mention of the reason he smuggled me away.

“Minera, our oracle. She’s been the oracle since they changed the laws, declaring us as betrayers of Sun and taking away every basic right we had.

They came to the village where she lived and made everyone swear allegiance to Sun and abandon the Goddess.

She told everyone not to do it, that the Goddess would protect us if we stayed loyal to her.

She was the oracle, so if she had sworn to Sun, everyone would have abandoned the Goddess.

Minera had seven sons. The Aldonians gathered them and told her to swear to Sun or they’d kill them.

She refused. So they killed her eldest. But she still wouldn’t do it.

So they killed the next son and the next until they’d killed them all. ”

We’re quiet then for a long time. I think of Minera’s choice. It’s not my place to judge her, yet I can’t understand it. Shouldn’t life be more sacred than any god? “My mother worshiped the Goddess. But it was a secret,” I tell him.

“Sounds like a typical Renyan. They swore to the Sun and kept worshiping the Goddess in secret. They can’t say a word of truth even if they try,” he says, his voice dripping with contempt. “Why do you hate Renyans so much? They don’t rule Amada. The True Religion was forced on them as well.”

His fingers shift the beads of his prayer beads deftly. His jaws clench. “It’s not for me to educate you of your mother’s people. When you get to Renya, you decide for yourself,” he grunts finally.

“My mother was good. I know my father is a tyrant. Although, I never suspected any of the horrors you told me. But I know my mother was good.”

“Good to whom?” He lets the question hang in the air.

***

The scenery changes slowly as we walk the next day. Oak trees replace pine trees. The sun is high, and we run out of water. He never comments on it, but I can tell I’m slowing him down. I’m not used to walking for hours of the day and sleeping on the ground at night.

In my daily life, I was pampered as much as restricted.

I visited the chapel each day, a five-minute walk from my room.

The rest of the day I spent in my chambers.

I ate there, bathed there, and was tutored there.

Only on the holy days would I get to roam other parts of the palace.

And once a year I would be out in Modos, the capital of Aldon, for the celebrations of the birth of Sun.

So it is no surprise that my body is embarrassingly languid.

That my feet are bleeding in my shoes from overuse.

That pain spreads through my limbs. Daton’s back is my enduring view.

Broad shoulders and rippling muscles at every move.

A manifestation of strength. So very much the opposite of my current state. At least it’s a nice view, I guess.

I did not just think that! What is wrong with me?

Daton leaves me to find fresh water and orders me to stay put until he returns. I wait and wait until I spot an apple tree a few feet away. I try to pick the ones that are untouched by animals and insects.

I get so lost in my efforts that I only hear the soldiers once they speak.