Turning the narrative back towards the truth was difficult, though he wanted to believe it was working, if far too slowly. When Kevos returned several sandfalls after first turning on the fourth cycle, Jotahan felt intense relief. He would like to believe it was for the safe return of one of the skilev’s finest hunters, but in reality, it was because now Kevos himself could counteract the rumors with the truth. Perhaps people would listen to him, since it was well known that he had no love for Sarah and no other reason to defend her than to get the truth of the matter out there.
Jotahan knew that Kevos was honorable enough to defend her anyway, even though he might not want to. He would tell the truth.
Kevos was wounded when he was taken up the sky lift to the temple, but the tale of his battle with the beast was already spreading through the skilev. The vislog had managed to gore him with one of its horns, flipping him up onto its back. Despite the damage the horn that impaled his side had done to him, it had worked to his advantage, allowing him to ram his spear down through the base of the creature’s skull and into its brain before it could scrape him off on the rocks that surrounded its lair.
Kevos had left the carcass in place for later retrieval, and as Jotahan made his way through the lobby of the temple, he saw the butchers drawing lots for the opportunity to travel to the lair and clean the animal. Tithes from the meat and hide would go towards the temple and the hunter’s lodge, and Kevos himself would receive a payout in meat, bones, and skin—or in a comparable amount of kivan. Anything left would go towards the butcher lucky enough to draw the winning lot.
Jotahan found Kevos in the healing wing of the temple, surrounded by fawning healers’ apprentices. The young females had eager expressions and gasped and sighed frequently and dramatically as Kevos again recounted the tale of his battle against the beast. The energy he displayed while telling his story seemed at odds with the severity of the bandaged wound on his side.
“Jotahan,” Kevos said, catching sight of him hesitating just beyond the curtain that separated the hunter’s healing alcove from the others that were currently unoccupied. He waved for Jotahan to enter, gesturing at the three healers’ apprentices that they should leave. “I’ll finish my story at a later time.”
Disappointed groans were their response, and though they kept their heads bowed respectfully as they passed Jotahan to leave, he could tell they weren’t thrilled that he’d arrived to spoil their fun.
“I wasn’t planning on ending your entertainment, Sentil.”
Kevos’ nostrils flared, his spines bristling with amusement. “They are young and easily impressed with stories of action and adventure.”
Jotahan shook his head. “I doubt that was what drew them to you like herd clingers.”
Kevos smirked. “You have your drahi. Do not be envious of the fortunes of others.” His expression sobered and he looked towards the curtain as if avoiding Jotahan’s eyes. “I heard that the priests’ council convened last cycle to advance one of Seta Zul’s acolytes to full priesthood without the final trial to earn their robes. Zan Cyall is comatose now.”
Jotahan bowed his head sadly. “Yes. I cannot be happy for the news, though it means there will no longer be repeated delays to our ceremony.”
“Are you certain this is the path you want to take, Jotahan?” Kevos glanced at him briefly before returning his gaze to the curtain, as if he needed to study the intricate designs woven into the fabric. “No one would judge you if you had the seal removed.”
Jotahan snarled in irritation at the question. “I don’t care what people will think. This isn’t about anyone else but me and my drahi. I will love her forever, and I have no intention of letting her go simply because the yan-kanat are too smallminded to accept her among them. If I have to, I will return with her to Gaia, even if it means spending the rest of my life wearing the face of a nixir.”
Kevos shifted his gaze back to Jotahan, his expression contemplative. “I can’t imagine having such devotion to a female that you would cast away everything you have earned in your lifetime—and even abandon all that you are—for her sake.”
“You want to play games for the rest of your life, Kevos.” Jotahan gestured to the wound in the sentil’s side. “But there will come a time when the horn gores you closer to your heart, and you will not recover. What do you leave behind? A string of sighing females who will move on to the next handsome male? A home filled with trophies that are meaningless to anyone else but you? Kivan paid out to the temple because you have no direct offspring to inherit it?”
Jotahan stepped closer to Kevos and rested a hand on the other male’s shoulder. “Or perhaps you face a bleaker future. One where the females all move on as your head spines fall out and your muscles sag with age, and all you have left are stories of a past that is long behind you, with no one around you who is interested in hearing them.”
Kevos shrugged off Jotahan’s hand, his brows drawing together and his lips peeling back from his teeth in irritation. “I am not even close to retirement, Jotahan, nor interested in embracing it to begin a family I have never desired. There are still many more hunts ahead for me, before I even consider hanging up my spear.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know what I would do with myself if I gave up the hunt.”
“Focus on creating life, instead of taking it, perhaps?”
Kevos sighed. “You’ve spent too much time alone in the dark, Jotahan. It has made you desperate for comfort and warmth. There are plenty of females who would have given that to you with enthusiasm, if you’d only glanced in their direction.”
Jotahan shrugged, stepping away from Kevos. “You should think on what I’ve said, Kevos. Don’t make the drahi intended for you wait forever, or Seta Zul might find another mate for her.”
Perhaps his concern for Farona growing too attached to someone disinterested in starting a family motivated his words to Kevos, but he felt like the other male had come too close to death not to at least consider what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. The life of a hunter could not last forever.
Kevos was silent for so long that Jotahan turned to leave the alcove.
“Will you be attending the lodge celebration this evening?” Kevos finally said, causing Jotahan to pause.
“I didn’t really want to leave Sarah alone for the night. Not right now.”
“Jotahan.” At the serious tone of Kevos’ voice, Jotahan turned back to face him. “I have already heard about the lies Ane-ata has spread. She is foolish, but she is also young. Do not judge her too harshly. I will see to it that the truth is spread in turn, and in this, all will know your drahi had no part.”
“Thank you, Kevos. I expected you would do the honorable thing.”
“Come to the lodge this evening, Jotahan. It would honor me for you to attend. You know this. If you don’t, it will look like a direct snub of me and my achievement.”
This was true, and Jotahan had not stopped to consider what his failure to attend such a major event would mean to Kevos and the others of the lodge. His concern for Sarah could not completely override his duty to his people, especially since she wasn’t in any physical danger. It was just that the whispers and rumors and hard looks from the yan-kanat were wearing on her spirit. He wanted to be there at night to comfort her—and to pleasure her. That always seemed to help her mood, though it made them both even more anxious for the ceremony.