The commander shot Norah a glance, and the woman followed his gaze. It was as if she hadn’t realized they were there.
“Tahla,” Mikael greeted her.
“Salar,” she replied with a nod, a formality coming to her. Then her eyes widened as they found Norah. “Savantahla?” she gasped. Tahla drew closer to them as though she were looking at a ghost.
Norah didn’t understand, but she remained still, keeping the hood of her cloak pulled down low. It took her a moment to realize the woman was looking at the mare, not her.
Tahla glanced at the commander and then back to the horse, stepping even closer. The commander’s axe came up, halting the woman. She scowled at him but then turned her attention back to Norah.
“How is this possible?” she asked. “How do you ride with Savantahla?”
Norah still didn’t understand.
And Mikael didn’t answer her question. “We seek accommodations for the night, as my armies pass through. We go to meet the Northmen at the far Canyonlands.”
“The Northmen?” she said with surprise, lifting her brow. Then her face hardened slightly. “You go to battle the North Queen?” she asked, glancing at him for a moment but then looking back at the mare. “You call us to go with you?”
“No.” Looking at Norah with a slight curve in his lip, he opened his hand and gave a nod. She pushed the hood of her cloak back, showing herself. “This is the North Queen,” he said.
The woman drew in a bewildered breath, speechless. “The North Queen commands Savantahla?” she asked finally. “And rides with you?”
“We go to announce our marriage,” Mikael said. “The union of Kharav and the North.”
“Sol!” Tahla exclaimed, which Norah assumed to be an expression of disbelief. “Marriage?” the woman asked, looking at the commander, not seeming to believe the king. “Kharav and the North?”
A smile came across Tahla’s face, and her brows raised in astonishment. “That’s unexpected. I don’t know what to say.” She paused, shaking her head. “But the Uru would be honored to host you this evening. And to host Savantahla.” She swung onto her horse with a big grin and waved them to follow.
Norah urged her mare close to Mikael as they rode after the Horsemen toward their village.
“I don’t understand. Who’s that?” she asked Mikael quietly.
“Tahla Otay of the Uru. Her father is chief.” He paused. “When Soren and I escaped Aviron, I was near death. Tahla and her father helped me, healed me, and saw us through the canyons and back home.”
It was all coming together for her now. Bahoul. Aviron.
“The Uru are the largest of the Horsemen tribes,” he told her. “And they’re friends. They’re keepers of the western Canyonlands, one of the only two entryways into Kharav.”
Norah had heard of the Canyonlands but didn’t fully appreciate their magnificence until they came into view. Massive cliffs of black rock rose from the ground, as if split by the gods, creating thin passages in their crevices with an eerie darkness at their base. As they wove deeper into the dark labyrinth, she urged her mare closer to Mikael’s mount.
The ground beneath them held patches of ice, but as they rode farther, she noticed small trails of running water. Deeper into the canyons, the water ran faster. They moved to the banks, and at the end of the canyons, the water poured into a large river.
They followed it around until the earth broke and Norah heard the sound of waterfalls. A path emerged and narrowed, and the descent became steeper. She fell back, behind Mikael, as they rode single file. The trail turned sharply and then climbed back up. They rounded another corner, and a massive village sprawled out in front of them. Small structures were carved into the hillside, revealing hundreds, perhaps thousands, of families and stone homes.
The sight took Norah’s breath away. “It’s beautiful,” she said.
Tahla glanced back at her and smiled.
As they approached the village, people gathered at the edge. There were many, but as they drew near, Norah spotted a man with a regal stature. He wore a wrap beautifully twisted around his head and adorned with beaded overlays, and in his right hand was an intricately carved wooden staff.
Tahla called to him in Urun tongue, and he looked wide-eyed at Norah and her mare. He replied and bowed his head low. Norah shifted uncomfortably as the Uru people dropped to their knees, bowing as well.
“My father says it’s a great honor to host Savantahla,” Tahla said. “We give thanks to Savan for this blessing.”
Norah glanced at Mikael. He gave her a small smirk, amused by her confusion, and slid off his horse. She watched as he made his way to the chief and bowed low to the old man, his reverence unmistakable. The chief reached out and put his hand on Mikael’s shoulder and then pulled him into an embrace. Norah was surprised at the emotion that touched her, and she swallowed it back with a smile.
The army set camp outside the city. Norah left the mare with other horses by the river and followed Mikael to a large fire with people gathered in a circle around it.
“Why is Abilash a king and… this man… a chief?” she asked him.
“Coca Otay is his name. The Uru are one tribe, and Coca Otay leads them. Abilash has taken many tribes. He is a chief of other chiefs.”
“Is Abilash chief of Coca Otay?”
“I would never allow that,” he told her.
Strange, Norah thought, that Mikael had such influence on the Horsemen tribes. She watched as the Uru welcomed him, bowing, smiling, and giving him small gifts. They respected him here, loved him even.
A hefty Urun woman offered Norah a hot drink and motioned for her to sit. She took a seat on a large stone and watched the celebration around her. They were happier about her marriage than she was, but Norah had to admit she wasn’t unhappy. Everything was so different from what she had expected. Even Mikael. Especially Mikael. Nothing was as it seemed, nothing was as she’d imagined. What else was hiding in this strange, special world?
Chapter thirty-four
The fire blazed brightly in the late afternoon’s dying sun, and the sound of celebration rang through the Urun city. Norah sat quietly, soaking up the warmth and enjoying the first feeling of ease since her capture. She watched the flames of the fire reach into the night as dancing Horsemen celebrated around it. Pulsing, twisting, turning, they moved their bodies to the sound of the drums—like spirits not bound to the earth.
She sensed eyes on her and looked over to see Tahla watching her.
The chief’s daughter moved to the large rock beside her and gave her a friendly smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare,” Tahla told her. “I just didn’t believe the stories. But now you’re here.”
“What stories?” Norah asked, puzzled.
“The North Queen with winter hair. I couldn’t even picture you. Can I touch it?”
Norah smiled awkwardly. “My hair?”
Tahla grinned with a nod.
Strange. Norah shrugged. “Sure.”
Tahla reached out and combed her fingers through the blonde locks. “I don’t know what I was expecting. I imagined ice in some form.” She smiled sheepishly. “It feels like normal hair.”