A Warrior on a Harsh World: Part 7

Where Kandi finds sanctuary

A Warrior on a Harsh World is a story resurrected from our archives. It’s a prequel to The Lyra Cycle, telling the tale of how Kandi — Kandira Sakherani, dutiful daughter, promising soldier — ended up joining the ragtag crew of the Lyra. If you’re just joining us, hop back to part 1.

Kandi spun around at the unknown voice, shifting into a ready stance.

An old man, his hair almost gone and his face carved with wrinkles, peered at her. He wore a simple tunic over loose pants, and his hands were tucked in his sleeves. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out if he hid a weapon or two up those sleeves, despite his placid smile. Movement over his shoulder caught her attention. Another man, similar in age and demeanour to the first, leaned over Bash.

“Leave his alone!” She shoved the first man — priest, she realized as she noted the faded sun insignia out the corner of her eye — out of the way and jogged over to her brother. She yanked the second priest away.

He peered at her, a confused frown on his face. He indicated the ewer he held then Bash, before speaking softly in Old Antaran, rapid words Kandi struggled to grasp.

“My husband says he’s dehydrated.” The first priest came to her side.

Kandi glanced between the two priests, but her brother interrupted her.

“The stars speckle the sky like drops of water on a gora leaf, as the visitors descended from the heavens to bless the children of the mother and the father in equal measure. They love you as much as they can, and more than you wish to be loved.”

She frowned. Bash spoke in Standard this time, not in any Antaran dialect. The words reminded her of something she couldn’t put her finger on. The priests started chattering in Old Antaran — something about visitors and stars and a messenger.

Bash perked up, and, leaning forward, grabbed the closest priest’s hand. He started speaking in Old Antaran as if he were born to it. His eyes still had an unhealthy glint, and Kandi reached for the ewer held by the one priest. He released it to her, and without warning, she dumped half the water on Bash’s head.

“Hades! What was that for?” Bash glared at her through sodden tendrils of hair.

The first priest tsked. “Cursing, especially foreign cursing, in a place of worship.” He shook his head and walk away, muttering.

Kandi ignored him and turned her attention to her brother. “You have a touch heat stroke. I thought that might cool you down. Here.” She handed him the ewer with its remaining water. “Drink this.”

“You should drink too.” The first priest had returned with the pitcher from the altar. Kandi eyed it. “It’s just water.” He poured a splash into his hand and sipped it, then reached the pitcher towards her. She took it with a nod and downed a few big gulps.

“My name is Lorca. This is Rufus.” He gestured towards the other man, who tipped his head to her. “He doesn’t speak much.”

 Kandi could see the difference between the two men now that she wasn’t so concerned with Bash. Lorca was taller, his eyes dark, with thick, bushy eyebrows, though he was nearly bald. Rufus still had tufts of hair around the sides of his head, and his eyes were a blue that was unusual in Antarans. He was a hand shorter than Lorca, but both men appeared painfully thin. Even more gaunt than Bash, with their sunken cheeks and protruding bones. Dark circles hung under their eyes.

“Your brother is unwell?” Lorca said, somewhere between a question and a statement. Kandi questioned how he knew Bash was her brother, but nodded. “The angels have touched him — that is bound to change a man.”

Kandi suppressed a groan. “Bash needs help.”

“We can help.”

She snorted. “Chants and prayer won’t help.” Her fingers clenched as a wave of frustration washed through her. “He needs medical treatment. I need to get him to the big ship sitting in the spaceport.”

“The Sisters.” From the frown on Lorca’s face, he had opinions about the Sisters. He started chattering with Rufus again, who seemed to argue with him, though the words flowed too quickly for her to catch. She took a different tack.

“He’ll die if he stays here,” she said. Lorca looked about to speak, but she cut him off. “They’ll kill him.” She waved her hand to the nearest hole in the ceiling. “Who do you think those drones are shooting at?”

Lorca’s mouth snapped shut; clearly, he was aware of what had happened in the street. He started speaking with Rufus again, and their conversation was slow and quiet this time.

Kandi glanced at Bash, whose eyes were closed. Kneeling beside him, she placed her fingers on his wrist.

“I’m fine,” he said, as her hand came to her chest as if that could calm her heartbeat. “I’m just resting my eyes.”

“Huh.” Her attention was drawn to the feet that crept into the edge of her vision. She followed those feet up to meet Rufus’ gaze.

“Chants and prayers can be a great help.” The man’s voice was equally as quiet in Standard. He nodded at Bash. “But we’ll help take him to the Sisters.” The stress on the last word, and the tightness of his lips when he stopped speaking told her he wasn’t entirely happy at the thought either.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching one hand into Bash’s armpit while placing the other under his elbow. Levering him up, she turned back to the priest. “But how much help can you be? Throwing rocks and lighting candles won’t get us far.” She watched a look pass between Rufus and Lorca.

Then Lorca met her gaze. “Come. There’s something you should see.”

Even though they didn’t have time for this, Kandi felt bad just up and leaving the two men — they’d given them water after all — so she left Bash leaning against a pillar and followed Lorca into a side room. Hands on her hilts, she readied her knives just in case.

As soon as her eyes adjusted to the even darker room, her jaw dropped and her daggers were temporarily forgotten.

“How did you get all these?” She jerked her hand, indicating the tables covered in drone bits and pieces and other mechanical sundries.

Lorca lifted his hands beside his shoulders, palms up, and shrugged. “They fell from the sky.” But his mischievous grin belied his words. “A blessing from the heavens.”

“Aren’t you worried about the tracers?”

The priest snorted. “You don’t think Rufus knows how to take care of those?” He looked at the other priest, a gleam in his eye, and ran his hand down the man’s arm. “He’s brilliant with hacking and cracking logic chips and crystal cores.” Lorca took the tool Rufus handed him. “I’m more mechanical.”

Rufus’ quiet voice continued the spiel. “We can send a drone to scout the way, and we can help you get into the shipyard side of the spaceport.” The shipyard…where incoming goods waited to clear quarantine and others waited for their ride off-planet. Kandi adjusted her mental map. That would get them close to the Sisters’ ship.

“But why do you do all this? And how —”

“Fewer questions is better.” Lorca lifted a drone in front of his face. He looked at her over the top of its carapace. “Let’s just say, from time to time, we liberate some goods from the shipyard. Food, medical supplies, that sort of thing. Then we find them good homes.”

“Liberate?” A burning ember of realization lit in Kandi’s gut — these two had probably been among the rioters she’d been sent to suppress.

“Freedom should be rain from the heavens, freely given to all who are thirsty.”

Kandi glanced at her brother, and the bruised bags beneath his glassy eyes. “Fine. When do we leave?”

“No time like the present.”

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