Page 64 of Moon Chosen

Sol drew in a deep breath and seemed to age before Nik’s eyes. “I killed him. I killed Orion. And it has haunted me for almost twenty years.”

Nik passed a hand over his face, eerily mimicking the gesture his father made when he was deeply disturbed. “I don’t understand.”

“Galen committed Sacrilege.”

“Sun’s fire! He destroyed a Mother Plant?”

Sol shook his head. “No, he stole swaddling fronds. Often and many of them.”

“Father, this makes no sense. Why would a Companion steal swaddling fronds unless there was an infant that—” As realization came to Nik he felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “The girl. He took the fronds for the Scratcher girl.”

“They call themselves Earth Walkers, not Scratchers,” Sol said slowly. “Nik, what I’m about to tell you I haven’t spoken of to anyone in almost twenty years. Cyril knows. Your mother knew. Anyone else who knew is as dead as Galen and Orion.”

“Okay, Father, go on. I’m listening, and I’ll keep your secret.”

“Thank you, son.”

Sol stared out at the dark horizon and began to speak. At first his voice was rough, hesitant, as if he was having trouble finding the words to tell the story, but as he talked he fell into a rhythm as if he had traveled into the past with the retelling.

“Galen and I were of an age—we grew up together. We were made Companions within the same year. We even fell in love with the same woman.” Sol smiled at his son’s shocked expression. “Yes, Galen loved your mother, and she him. Luckily for me, her love for him was as a sister loves her brother—and her love for me was much more.”

“Did Galen resent you because Mother chose you?”

“No, or at least not for long. It wasn’t part of Galen’s personality to hold resentment. He was the kindest person I have ever known. I only saw him angry once, and that wasn’t over your mother.”

“Was it when you caught him stealing from the Mother Plant?”

“No. He wasn’t angry then. He was silent. And brave. He forgave me. He even forgave me for killing Orion.” Sol wiped his face with his hand again, brushing away tears. When he continued speaking, his voice had found its rhythm and he did not falter. “Galen was the best forager I have ever known—possibly that the Tribe has ever known. He didn’t lead Warriors into Port City and other ruins, though. He and Orion preferred to forage alone. The two of them had the ability to move in almost complete silence. It was remarkable, really, the way that big Shepherd could make himself a ghost. Baldrick, the Sun Priest before me, put restrictions on Galen, decreeing that he was too valuable to the Tribe to go off on his own, but when I was anointed in his place I removed the restrictions.” Sol sighed and shook his head. “I was young and thought I knew better than the old man before me. I was wrong. Had I insisted Galen team with another Companion it couldn’t have happened.”

“Father, did Galen rape a Scratcher?”

“No, son. I believe Galen fell in love with an Earth Walker.”

“The woman who died today?”

“Yes.”

“How could it have happened?”

“I don’t know the details. When he would be gone from the Tribe for days and days on end, no one questioned him about his absence because it was the norm for him. Galen and his Orion foraged alone. He always returned with treasures. And I was always glad to welcome him, and the gifts he brought.” Sol stroked Laru, as if needing the comfort of his canine’s touch. “But even then I knew something had changed with Galen. Once he and I were on lookout duty together and two Scratchers tried to escape the Farm. I shot and killed them quickly, as Law dictates. That was the one time I saw Galen angry. He ranted at me—saying how if we were in their place, if we were slaves held captive, we would be trying to escape, too. I’d reminded him that Scratchers aren’t able to protect themselves, that they need to be cared for like children who don’t grow up. I’ve never forgotten what he told me then. He’d said that they aren’t Scratchers, they’re Earth Walkers, and they aredifferentfrom the Tribe, but no less than us. He said their lives have a connection to the earth, a simplicity and beauty we lack, and that they have true courage.”

“Did he explain what he meant?”

Sol shook his head. “Once his anger was spent he apologized to me, and said that he just couldn’t stand the killing. I didn’t press him. I should have, but I didn’t.”

“He must have sounded crazy,” Nik said.

“Then he did. Over the winters that have passed since, I have come to believe differently.”

“But he didn’t say anything to you about being with a Scra—I mean, Earth Walker female?”

“Not until just before I killed him.” Sol’s gaze moved from the horizon to his son. “Even after all these years it’s difficult for me to think of that day, though it is never far from my mind. Galen forgave me. I hope you will forgive me. But I don’t believe I’ll ever truly forgive myself.”

“How did it happen?” Nik prompted.

“Galen would have gotten away with it if Cyril hadn’t seen him carrying the fronds into the forest. Galen was smart about it. He only took one frond from each plant. It wasn’t enough to cause suspicion. The loss was barely noticed. One woman, the oldest of the group who tended the Mother Plants, mentioned to Cyril that she was concerned that the frond count was off. Cyril had just been named to the Elder Council then, and he was diligent in his duties. Though the old woman didn’t believe someone was committing Sacrilege and stealing from the plants, Cyril was just pragmatic enough to wonder. Without sharing his suspicions with anyone, he began watching the Mother Trees. One night, during the quietest hour between midnight and dawn, he saw Galen sneak to the Mother Plants and, from each mature plant, take a single fat frond.”

“It’s almost unbelievable,” Nik said. “Didn’t Cyril stop him?”