He stepped closer to her. ‘I’m not leaving you.’
‘If you stay, we both die. My family dies. My girls die. If you leave, we still have a chance, but you have to promise me you won’t come back here.’
Ituen shook his head, his eyes now glistening as the sound of marching became louder. They were close. ‘I can’t.’
His voice broke and Attem slapped his chest, her own tears falling freely. Ituen barely flinched. ‘Wake up! Use sense. You have to, Ituen. Please. If you love me, you will leave and never return. If I survive this, I will find you, just please promise you won’t come looking for me.’
Ituen drew her close to him, so she could feel his whirring heartbeat against her collarbone, pulled her head back and kissed her, wanting to be as near to her as possible, to feel wholeness before he became a lost man once again. His soul felt as if it was being split in half. ‘I love you.’
Attem pulled away and kissed his wrist. ‘Swear to me.’
Ituen nodded and swallowed. ‘I swear.’
Attem sniffed and hastily shoved him towards the entrance of the cave, as she backed away into the darkness. ‘Go. Don’t turn back. Don’t stop.’
In the moments before they came, Attem gave silent thanks to the gods for giving her the chance to truly live before she died.
Ituen heard the sound of laughing children squawking and giggling outside of his cottage. Slightly irritated, he put the chisel he was using to carve out yet another delicately eked leopard from the finest wood. He was a hunter turned carpenter; a destroyer turned creator. He had honed his craft till he was able to make an honest living out of it. When he first stopped at this village, he’d believed it was temporary. Attem would survive – she had to – and somehow she would send word for him. A month passed, and then three, and then six, and then thirty-six, still not even a whisper from her. At some point along the way he forced himself to stop feeling so his heart would stop breaking. He settled, took an apprenticeship with a taciturn old man with no sons who took to Ituen’s newly acquired stoic sullenness. Ituen’s wooden leopards were renowned for the elegance of their craftmanship; his patrons marvelled at his dedication to his skill, noting the heart that it took to create such a thing. He poured all his love for Attem into his creations, not knowing where else to put it.
Ituen left his workstation and walked to his doorway.
‘If you don’t keep it down, I won’t make anything for you to play with. Is that what you want?’
The children were running directly to him excitedly, panting, talking over each other frantically, pointing at him and then gesturing towards the market. Usually they kept a reverential distance from Ituen, respecting him for the toys he made them for free, but wary of his muscular bulk and the thick beard that sprouted from his face, the way he growled his words. Now, though, they were tugging at his wrist, as if he was their playmate, pulling him towards the market square.
‘Sir, sir! Someone is asking for you!’
‘A queen! She is from a faraway village! She is so beautiful! How do you know her?’
‘She doesn’t even have a husband! She is queen on her own! I think she is a goddess!’
‘She gave us sweet cakes!’
‘She is asking for the man who makes the leopard. She said he is renowned. She said she has a comish-comissary.’
‘Commission, you idiot!’
‘She is asking for you, uncle! Come! Maybe you should put small oil on your face. You look dusty.’
Ituen stumbled into the marketplace, led by the tiny, chattering generals. Out of sheer terror, he tried to stop the softening of his heart – he could not physically survive mourning her again – but then he recognised the scent of wealth. It was an unmistakable bouquet of wisdom, kindness and strength. He knew it was her, even before he saw her silhouette, even before she’d turned around and hit him with that smile that jolted his heart into beating again, even before she said, ‘Please forgive my lateness, my love. I got a little waylaid. You see, there was a revolution to handle and a coup to organise. I see you’ve grown a beard. We need to get rid of that as soon as possible.’
Ituen opened and shut his mouth, unable to move, fixed to the spot with all-consuming shock and happiness.
Attem smiled, eyes glistening. ‘I also thought I should finally thank you in person for the gift you gave me.’
Ituen frowned in confusion, still stunned into silence, when he saw the small boy hiding shyly by her leg, with his copper colouring and with Attem’s sunrise eyes. In just a few moments, Ituen’s world came alive again, his withered heart bursting into life, growing bigger than his body. He could scarcely breathe with the force of his new joy.