All Things Begin - The Anmah Series Book 1

Ga’briyel sat listening intently as Ma’ikel spoke of the Anmah. So intently, in fact, that the man felt uncomfortable being the object of the boy’s gaze.

“You understand that since you have already been killed by a bladed weapon, you cannot be killed by one again, yes?” Ga’briyel just nodded. “Even if someone were to cut off your head, you would not die from it.”

The boy gave no indication that he understood. He simply stared at Ma’ikel, an unnerving look in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly, and then he did something the older Anmah had almost given up hope of ever experiencing.

“Does it always hurt to die, Ma’ikel?”

The little voice was quiet, but he spoke clearly and with no hesitation. Ma’ikel’s eyes went wide in shock, and it took him a moment to respond. When he did, he tried to act as if everything was normal, but he had a strong feeling he failed.

“Yes, usually. Why do you ask?”

Ga’briyel frowned. “Then I do not ever want to die again. The pain is not something I like to experience. Not even once more.” He got a look of intense concentration on his face before it disappeared, and the boy said with a sigh, “But that is not very realistic, is it?”

Ma’ikel was speechless for a moment. The fact that the child was speaking was amazing in itself, but his vocabulary and the clarity and intelligence in his questions were even more so. He spoke in such a way that made him seem to be much older than six. Normally, the Anmah would have sugar-coated his answer for such a young child, but he knew that was not the right thing to do here.

He cleared his throat and said, “No, Ga’briyel, it is not realistic. I know you have already died many times, but there are still a lot of ways you have not died. It is going to happen again, I promise you. Hopefully not for a very long time, but it will happen.”

The boy was silent for so long that Ma’ikel was concerned his speaking had only been temporary, but then he stood up and walked to a window and stared out at the city, his little hands clasped behind his back.

“How have you died, Ma’ikel?”

“I will not tell you that yet,” the older Anmah said. “Not until you tell me of your deaths.”

Ga’briyel turned from the window slowly. “You already know.”

“Maybe so, but I need to hear it from you.”

The boy slid to the floor, rested his back against the wall, and wrapped his arms around his knees. Several minutes passed before he spoke.

“The Asabya raided my village of Desa on my sixth naming-day, over seven moons ago. They killed everyone—my baba, my mama, my brother and my sisters, all of my friends, all of my people. One killed me when he stuck his sword in my chest. When I woke up, everyone was dead. I did not know what had happened. I expected pain from the sword, but there was nothing. No wound, no pain, just blood and the memory of the agony before I died. I walked around the village looking for anyone who was still alive, but there was no one. I stayed in the village for almost three sennights. The wolves came the night after the raid, and I hid in one of the huts. I could not get to the well, though, so I died of thirst three days later. When I woke up again, I still had no idea what was happening. The wolves stayed for two more days, but even after they left, I could not get any food. I did not know how to hunt, and all the food had been taken by the Asabya. So three sennights later, I starved to death after trying to live off grass.”

He took a deep breath, and Ma’ikel moved to sit beside him on the floor and place a hand on his arm.

“You do not have to tell me everything right now, Ga’briyel.”

“I know, but I want to.”

Ma’ikel nodded. “Go ahead, then.”

“After I woke up the third time, I had figured out that I must be Anmah, and when I saw my reflection, I knew that I was right. I could not stay in Desa, so I decided to walk to Torkeln.” He scoffed. “I did not realize how far it was. It took two sennights just to get to the forest, and I had not eaten in over a moon, so when I found a patch of wild onions, I gorged myself.” He cocked his head, a motion Ma’ikel was learning meant the boy was thinking hard. “It surprised me that I could die from eating too much.It took four days for me to die. One day I just collapsed in the middle of the forest and couldn’t get up.”

“It was because your body was not used to processing food after so long. It simply shut down on you.”

“Is that what it was? I thought maybe my stomach burst from putting too much into it all at once. Anyway, when I woke up, I continued through the forest. Eventually I got to the mountains. Halfway to the top, there was a lightning storm, and I think I was hit.” Ga’briyel paused. “That is the only death that did not hurt. I do not even remember anything but the smell of burnt flesh and waking up the next morning.” He shifted his position so that his feet were curled up underneath him. “Then, two days after that, I was caught by an animal. I do not know what it was, but it tore me up. It even bit some chunks of flesh out of me, but when I woke up, I was whole.” He stopped and looked at Ma’ikel. “How does that work?”

“No one knows for sure. We simply heal quickly and completely no matter what happens to us.”

“So,” the boy said slowly, “what happens if an Anmah’s first death is when his head or his arm or leg gets cut off? What happens then?”

Ma’ikel hesitated. “You have to understand something before I answer that. Most Anmah have their first deaths around someone who knows who they are and what has happened. So, if a beheading is their first death, there is someone who can help them. Someone like myself. I have seen three Anmah die first from being beheaded.” He stopped and looked at the boy. “This is not a pleasant tale. Are you sure you want to know the answer to your question? You know it cannot happen to you.”

“I know, but I need to understand.”

“Very well. I knew they were Anmah when the head opened its eyes and spoke to me. At that point, all I had to do was place the head with the body, and it healed itself.”

“That is…” The boy frowned. “That is disturbing.”

“Yes, it is.”

Ga’briyel was once again silent. Ma’ikel waited a few moments before speaking.

“Do you want to tell me the rest now? I know there are still six deaths to tell me about. We can finish later if you would rather.”

“No,” the boy said, “I want to finish now.” He sighed heavily and laid down on his side, looking but still not sounding like the child he was. “After the animal killed me, I was walking along a mountain trail and there was a rock slide. I was caught in it and got crushed. It took me almost two days to dig my way free of the rocks. The slide had taken my bag with it, so I had no food again. After I walked a few more days, I found some nuts. I choked on one of them. Then I fell into a river and drowned. That was bad enough, but the river also took me back down the mountain almost to where I had started. Two sennights later, I finally reached the top, but it was so cold that I froze.” He shivered. “I can still feel the wind and wet and my body turning to ice.” He looked up at Ma’ikel. “I am glad I cannot die that way again.”

“I am, too.”

“Anyway, after I started down the other side of the mountain, I fell off a cliff. I am pretty sure I broke every bone on the way down. The last thing I remember is hitting my head on a rock when I landed. Finally, I made it down the mountain. While I was walking through the forest, a tree fell on me. I was expecting to die from that, but I did not.”

“No, you had already been crushed to death.”

“I know that now. What happened was even worse. The tree had landed on my chest, and I could not breathe. I remember the pain as I tried to take a breath, and I remember the light fading when I could not.”

“You suffocated.”

The boy nodded. “After that, I just kept walking. I found some plants that I was able to eat, but not many.” He shrugged. “Then General Mistri found me and brought me to his house and then here.”

The silence that followed stretched out, and Ma’ikel stood up. His head was reeling with what he had just heard. While Ga’briyel had been speaking, the Anmah had almost forgotten that he was only six years old, he spoke with such eloquence. Now, however, reality slammed into him as he thought of what this child had been through. He stood up, walked a few paces away, and then turned back to the boy who was still lying on the floor.

“I am so sorry, Ga’briyel,” he said softly. “You should never have had to go through all of that alone. I have never heard of a young Anmah who did not have a Siskaska, a teacher, nearby when they first died, someone who guided them through the confusion. Someone who made sure they did not die again right away. For you to still be sane after twelve deaths in four moons is remarkable.”

“I know,” the boy said with another heavy sigh. “I heard you and General Mistri talking about me.”

Ma’ikel frowned when the boy referred to his father as General Mistri a second time.

“Ga’briyel, come here, please.”

The boy raised his head and then stood. He slowly walked to the table and sat down when Ma’ikel gestured to a chair. The man knelt down in front of him.

“Ga’briyel, do you not consider General Mistri to be your baba? I know he considers you to be his son.”

“But he is not my baba,” the boy said. “My baba’s dead.”

“Your first baba died, that is true, but could you not think of the general as your second baba?”

Ga’briyel cocked his head as if that thought had never occurred to him. “Can someone have a second baba?”

“If you choose to, yes. You are very intelligent, Anmah, and you have amazed me today, but you are still a little boy who needs a baba and a mama. General Mistri and his wife can be those for you if you let them.”

The boy nodded. “I suppose I could let them. Do you think I should call them Baba and Mama?”

“I know they would like that immensely.”

“Then I will do so. I owe them that much at least.”

Ma’ikel frowned. “You should not do it out of a sense of obligation, little one. You should do it because you want to.”

“Oh? Then I will do it because I want to. They have been very good to me, as good as my first baba and mama. It will be nice to have a baba and a mama again.”

“I am glad to hear it. Now, if you want to do something that will make your baba very happy, I suggest you go talk to him and tell him how grateful you are.”

“I can do that,” the boy said seriously. “I mean, I want to do that.”

“Good. Let us go, then.”

The two Anmah walked through the halls hand in hand.

“By the way,” Ma’ikel said, “what is your real name?”

The boy looked up. “It was Jala el’Adama el’Altyara el’Illyama, but that boy is dead along with the rest of his family. I like Ga’briyel better. Can I keep that name?”

“Of course you can. We will tell your baba when we see him.”

When they reached Jarda’s office, Ma’ikel raised his hand to knock on the closed door, but it opened before his hand made contact with the wood, and Captain Phransa and a young guardsman exited, their faces serious. They both nodded to Ma’ikel, and as they walked off, the guardsman asked, “Do you think the king will agree, Captain?”

“I am afraid so, Tero. I am also afraid of what the…”

The captain’s voice trailed off as they rounded the corner.

Ma’ikel put his hand on the door and pushed it open further. “Jarda? Do you have a moment?”

His friend was seated behind his desk, his head in his hands. At the Anmah’s words, his head came slowly up, and he ran his fingers through his hair as he frowned.

“I always have time for you, Ma’ikel.” When he saw Ga’briyel, his frown faded away to be replaced with a very welcome smile. “And you, my son, how are you feeling? Does your head still hurt?”

Ma’ikel raised his eyebrows to the boy at the words “my son,” and Ga’briyel simply nodded back.

“What is this? Have you two come up with your own form of communication?”

“You could say that,” Ma’ikel said with a smile of his own. He gestured for Ga’briyel to approach the desk. “Your son has something to tell you.”

Jarda stood up and moved around the desk. He dropped to one knee in front of the boy and waited. Ga’briyel glanced up at Ma’ikel and then faced his second baba. He took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “for taking care of me. And no, my head does not hurt anymore. Oh, and my name used to be Jala, but I want you to call me Ga’briyel if that is all right.”

Jarda gasped and almost fell backward. As it was, he reached out and steadied himself with a hand on his desk.

“You are speaking,” he breathed, and then his eyes sparkled as he took his son’s hands in his. “You do not know how happy you have just made me, my son.” He smiled brightly. “Ah, Ga’briyel, I have been waiting for this moment since I found you. Tell me, what made you speak?”

The little boy shrugged. “I had a question for Ma’ikel, and I did not know any other way to ask it.”

A chuckle found its way from Jarda’s chest, and it felt good after the morning he had just had. He brushed his son’s hair back from his forehead, noticing that the bump that had been there earlier was gone. “Well, I am glad,” he said. “I needed some good news today.”

“Why? What has happened…Baba?”

Jarda closed his eyes and drank in the sound of the title the boy had granted him. After almost ten years of trying for a child of his blood, he had given up on ever hearing anyone call him Baba, but now here was this boy doing just that. When he opened his eyes again, Ga’briyel was looking at him with concern.

“Nothing to worry yourself about, my son.”

“It involves Chatra Ricard and the others, does it not?”

Jarda’s eyes went wide, and he looked up at Ma’ikel. “What have you told him, Anmah? I know you know what has been going on.”

Ma’ikel looked affronted. “I have said nothing, my friend, and I know less than you think. I know you spoke to all of the Chatra, but beyond that, I know nothing of what you found out.”

“Then how did you know, Ga’briyel?”

The boy shrugged again. “I just know. I cannot explain how.”

“Oh, really? Well, my son, you are right, but again, it is nothing to worry yourself about. Only do not refer to Ricard or the others as Chatra anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because they have lost the privilege of using that title.”

“But…”

“Leave it at that, Ga’briyel,” Jarda said sternly, but then he moderated his tone. “I think your mama would like to hear you speak. What do you say to going to be with her while I talk with Ma’ikel?”

The little boy frowned, but he nodded. “Yes, Baba, if that is what you wish.”

“It would please me, yes, but I will not force you to speak with her. If you would rather, you can go watch the guardsmen train.”

Ga’briyel thought for a moment. “It would please her as well, would it not?”

“Most definitely.”

“Then I will go be with her.”

Jarda took his son’s head in his hands and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I am proud of you, Ga’briyel. First with your actions this morning with Ricard, and now with your willingness to speak. I know neither could have been easy for you to do.”

Violet eyes shone brightly in what Jarda had learned to take as pleasure since his son rarely smiled. “I want to make you proud of me,” the boy said softly. “I want my baba to be proud of me.”

“And he is,” Jarda said. “Very.” He gave Ga’briyel a small push toward the door to their chambers. “Now, go and be with your mama.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said, and he disappeared.

Jarda slowly stood, the smile still on his face. “I do not know what you did, Ma’ikel, but thank you.”

“Me? I did nothing. I was telling the boy about the fact he cannot be killed by any bladed weapon, and, with no warning, he asked if it always hurt to die.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That it usually did, but he already knew that. Then he said he did not want to die again because he did not want to hurt again. Eventually, he told me about all of his deaths.”

Shock showed on Jarda’s face. “Did he? And was I right about them?”

“You were. He filled in the details, though, and I must say that I am more amazed now that he is sane than I was before. All but one of his deaths were excruciatingly painful. I do not know how he bore it all, especially since he was alone.”

Jarda looked at the connecting door. “There is something different about him, is there not?”

“Without a doubt,” Ma’ikel said, and then he sat on one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I have never known such a young child who can articulate his thoughts as he can. He speaks as if he is twenty- or thirty-six instead of only six. Enough about him for now, though. What is going on with the Chatra?”

The fury that had filled Jarda all morning came flooding back as he filled in his friend on the events of the morning.

“And what have you decided, General Mistri?”

“That is what I need to discuss with the king. Care to join me?”

“Absolutely. What happens in the Chatra concerns me greatly if Ga’briyel is to join them someday.”

The two men walked through the hallways in silence until they reached the throne room. The doors were open, and a guardsman stood on either side of the doorway. They were closely watching the people going in and out of the room, but they snapped to attention when Jarda approached them.

“Yisu’s beard! It is Public Audience Day today. I forgot.” Jarda ground his teeth together and ignored the salutes of the guardsmen as he and Ma’ikel entered the room. They walked past the shopkeepers, farmers, and other commoners waiting to present their complaints and concerns to the king. When they reached Tomas, there were two subjects standing before him. Jarda and Ma’ikel stopped a respectful distance behind the men, but they could still hear what Tomas was saying.

“The surveyors will come out to your homesteads tomorrow morning and double-check your property lines. What they decide will be final. Do you both understand that?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the men said.

“Dismissed.”

The men bowed low and took three steps backward before turning around. At any other time, Jarda might have smiled at the malevolent glares they directed at each other as they walked out of the throne room, but he was in no mood to do so now. His attention was on his king, and when Tomas gestured him forward, he stepped close to the dais and dropped to one knee, his hand on his sword. Ma’ikel stood tall beside him.

“Rise, General Mistri.”

Jarda stood at attention and waited.

“General,” Tomas said, “what is so important that it cannot wait until the audiences are over?”

“With respect, sire, it is not something I can discuss in public. I request a private audience with Your Majesty immediately.”

“Granted.” The king turned to his scribe. “Artan, make an announcement that the audiences will resume in…” He glanced at Jarda.

“Hopefully no more than half an hour, sire.”

“Very well.” He turned back to Artan. “Half an hour. Those who do not wish to wait can come back next moon.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the little man beside the throne said as he set down his paper and pen. He stood, straightened his tunic, and addressed the assembled subjects with the king’s proclamation.

“To the War Room,” Tomas said and walked away from his general and Ma’ikel, knowing they would follow. When they reached the War Room, which was connected to the throne room by a door to the left of the dais, Jarda held the door open for his king and Ma’ikel and shut it behind him as he entered the room after them.

Tomas sighed heavily. “Although I am sure that I will not like what I am about to hear, this break is welcome nonetheless.” He leaned against the large gacha wood table in the center of the room and faced the others. “So, what is it?”

Jarda told the king everything that had happened that morning, from the fight between Ga’briyel and Ricard to the interrogations and confessions to the meeting he, Tero, and Phransa had had in his office.

The king grew angrier by the moment as Jarda talked, but he stayed silent until the narrative was complete. By the end, he was pacing the length of the table and clenching his fists. Jarda was glad the scowl on his king’s face was not for him.

“And you say this has been going on for a year, Jarda? How is that possible? How did no one know what was happening to these boys?”

“I do not know the answer to that question, sire. All I can say is that the boys who did this were very careful, and they scared the younger boys enough that they told no one of the abuse.”

“So, there are ten offenders in all.”

“Yes, sire. Five former Chatra and five former guardsmen.”

“Former? You have already stripped them of their ranks?”

“Not officially, sire. That is one thing that I propose be done tomorrow morning.”

“And what else? To my knowledge, nothing like this has ever happened in the ranks of the Guard before.”

“Not in anyone’s memory, Your Majesty, except for Ma’ikel’s.” Jarda glanced at his friend and saw him nod.

Tomas turned to the Anmah. “And what was the punishment the last time?”

“Considering it was over four hundred years ago, Tomas, I do not think we should use the same punishment.”

“Why? What was it?”

“Death. But then again, that was the punishment for almost everything back then.”

Tomas frowned. “No, that is not appropriate. However, we must do something to discourage others from even thinking of doing this again. What do you recommend, Jarda?”

“Flogging and the stocks, sire.”

The king thought for a moment and then nodded. “How many strokes and how many days?”

“For the guardsmen, twenty strokes and five days. For the boys, ten and three. After that they will be dismissed from service. They will each be given one set of clothes and enough money to get home.”

“Do you not think that is a little harsh?”

“No, sire, I do not. If you had seen those boys’ bruises, I think you would agree with me.”

“Well, I trust your judgment. Ma’ikel, what do you think?”

“I agree with Jarda. The punishment must be severe enough to put fear back into the hearts of the ranks so that this does not happen again.”

Tomas nodded once, but frowned. “I am losing five guardsmen and some of the oldest Chatra, though, Jarda. What do you suggest I do about that?”

“We will have to make do with the ones who remain, Your Majesty, until more Chatra are ready to join the Guard.”

“Very well. That is on your shoulders. You will convene the entire Guard at first light tomorrow except for eight who will still need to be posted at the gates and doors. I want everyone to see this.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I already have in mind the names of those who can stand guard during the punishment. They were with me when I questioned the boys, so they already know what is going on, and I do not think any of them need the reminder about discipline.”

“At first light in the training grounds, then.”

“At first light, sire.”

“You are dismissed, Jarda.”

Jarda bent down on one knee before standing and walking out of the room, Ma’ikel at his side. As they walked down the carpet in the throne room, the scowl on Jarda’s face had the people backpedaling and turning away from him. He hated having to mete out this punishment. He had never been an officer who enjoyed corporal punishment, but he also knew that if he did not do this, other bullies would crop up soon after he dismissed the current ones. He needed to make an example of them, and that is exactly what he planned to do.

“What are you going to do now, Jarda?”

“I am going to get more stocks built for one thing. At the moment, we only have two. Then I am going to dismiss the Chatra for the day, check on the victims and the prisoners, and then I am going to spend some time with my family. And you?”

“I am going to do some research,” Ma’ikel said.

“On what?”

“Sainika. I am now more convinced than ever that Ga’briyel not only will be Sainika in the future, but I strongly suspect he already is.”

“Already? Is that possible at his age?”

“I do not know. Hence the research. How else could he have held off someone so much bigger than himself this morning?”

Jarda nodded thoughtfully. “That is a good point. I have taught him a few things, but certainly not enough for him to be able to do that.”

Ma’ikel clapped his friend on the back. “It has been said that once a Sainika learns the slightest part of something, the rest comes to him as if he were born with the knowledge. That sounds like what happened with the fight. You taught him a little, and he just knew the rest.”

“Just knew,” Jarda said softly. “Like he just knew about Ricard and the others.”

“Yes. I will let you know what I find out, and I will see you at first light, if not before then. We need to present a united front to the Guard.”

“I appreciate that, Ma’ikel.”

The Anmah inclined his head and walked away. Jarda took a deep breath and went to find carpenters to build eight more stocks.

It was almost last light by the time he made it home. He stopped just inside the door and inhaled deeply. His stomach growled at the smell of stew and freshly baked bread, and he realized he had not eaten all day.

“Baba!” a little voice called. “Get cleaned up. Last meal is ready!”

Jarda smiled and walked to the kitchen where he stopped and laughed out loud. Elise and Ga’briyel were standing by the counter, and the boy was covered in flour. Elise seemed to have been spared the worst of it, but even she had a few patches of white here and there on her face and arms. Still laughing, Jarda took three large steps toward them and spun his wife into his arms. He kissed her soundly and then he used his thumb to wipe away a spot on her cheek.

“Ah,” he sighed as he nuzzled her hair, “it is good to be home.”

“It is good to have you home,” Elise said, “but you and this child both need to get washed up before the food gets cold.”

Jarda kissed her again before releasing her and picking up Ga’briyel. “What happened to you, my son?”

“Mama was teaching me to bake. She says I have a knack for it.”

With a chuckle, Jarda carried his son to the bathing room. “Like most small boys, though, you also seem to have a knack for getting dirty. Come, we do not want to make your mama wait too long.”

Ten minutes later, the Mistri family was seated around the table, their plates full. Jarda dug into his food with a vengeance, and there was no conversation for many minutes. By the time he finished his first plateful and was refilling it, Ga’briyel was staring at him with the questioning look that Jarda had come to know so well.

“What is it, Ga’briyel? You can ask me anything.”

“What is going to happen to Ricard and the others, Baba?”

Jarda slowly put his fork down on his plate, folded his hands together, and looked at his son, trying to decide how much to tell him. Finally, he told him what the Chatra already knew.

“They will be punished at first light at the training grounds.”

“How?”

“That is not important. Just know that the punishment will fit the crime.” Jarda glanced at his wife and saw that her head was down. “Are you all right, Elise?”

She raised shining eyes to him. “I am, Jarda. I just cannot believe something like this can happen in the Chatra.”

“It is more than just the Chatra, I am afraid,” Jarda said, pushing his plate from him. He had lost his appetite. “I will tell you later what has been happening.”

“Of course. For now, it is time for you, Ga’briyel, to take a real bath and get the rest of the flour out of your hair. Do you need help?”

“No, Mama, I can do it.”

The little boy slipped from his seat and hurried to the bathing room. Jarda stood up with a deep sigh and started clearing the table.

“I can do that, Jarda. You should go relax in your office.”

“No, I need to be doing something. If I sit down and do nothing, my thoughts will overwhelm me.”

He carried the dishes to the kitchen and placed them next to the basin before resting his hands on the wood and bowing his head. He covered Elise’s hands with one of his as she wrapped her arms around him from behind and settled her head on his back.

“Talk to me, my love,” she said softly.

He turned slowly in her arms and gathered her to himself. Quietly, he told her what had happened since Ga’briyel had come home from the fight. When he finished, he felt her shaking, and he held her tightly as she cried into his chest.

“Those poor children,” she whispered, and Jarda dropped a kiss on her head.

“I hate this, Elise. I hate that it is happened, I hate that I have to punish these boys, and I hate that I have to send them home in disgrace.”

She leaned back and was about to speak when Ga’briyel walked into the kitchen.

“I think I am clean now, Mama,” he said “Can you check?”

Elise kissed her husband and whispered, “I love you,” before going to her son with a smile. “Let me see, Ga’briyel; did you get behind your ears?”

“Yes, Mama,” the boy said with a frown. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I heard something that made me very sad.” She placed a kiss on Ga’briyel’s forehead.

“What was it?”

“You will find out tomorrow, my son,” Jarda said, “and the morning will come quickly. You need to go to bed now and get some sleep. We will wake two hours before first light.”

“All right, Baba. Will you answer one question for me first?”

“If I can.”

“Are ten people being punished tomorrow morning?”

Jarda frowned. “How did you know that, Ga’briyel? Were you listening to our conversation?”

“No, Baba. I only heard that you were sending them home.”

“Then how did you know there were ten?”

A look of intense concentration came over the boy’s face. “I do not know,” he said. “I just knew. I do not understand how.” His looked up at his father. “I do not like not understanding, Baba.”

“Neither do I. Perhaps Ma’ikel will know. We will ask him tomorrow, all right?”

“All right.” Ga’briyel stepped up to his father, and Jarda picked him up and hugged him. “Good night, Baba. I hope tomorrow is a better day for you.”

“Thank you, my son, but I do not think it will be. I appreciate the thought, though.”

Elise moved close to them and hugged them both.

“Can you do anything to make Baba feel better, Mama?”

Jarda grinned when Elise looked at him with a twinkle in her eye.

“I will do my best, little one,” she said.

“Good. I do not like it when he is upset.”

“None of us do, Ga’briyel. Now, off to bed with you.” Elise gave her son a kiss, and Jarda put him down.

“Good night, Mama.”

“Good night, my son. Sleep well.”

When Ga’briyel disappeared into his room, Jarda stepped up to his wife.

“And just how do you plan on making me feel better?” he asked, running his hands up and down her arms.

“By having you focus on something else for a while,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to their room. She glanced back at him and smiled. “Hopefully for a very long while.”