by TJ Muir
“It’s one of those sights you don’t ever forget,” Cham said from behind him.
Jedda nodded. He had no words. This was a magical land.
Kirrin and Tattia also came up, watching the sunset.
“Come,” Cham said. “Finding a place to camp before dark sets in would be wise.”
The spell broken, all three mounted back up, and followed Trillian. The road they had been on headed straight west, but they cut south along a path that followed the tree line. Before long they found a small glen with a stream for water and made camp.
Cham pulled his bow down from his gear. “I will see if there might be some rabbits or pheasants about for dinner.” And he disappeared through the trees.
He returned before very long with two rabbits that Tattia helped him skin and roast over the fire. She had found some fragrant leaves and wrapped the meat, so that when it was done, it was tender and juicy with a hint of something peppery sweet. They slept out under the open sky, watching the stars and the moons. It was nearing summer, so despite being up in the mountains, the night was cool, but comfortable. Cham played his lap harp, and before long Jedda had fallen asleep.
By late the following day they could smell smoke and the faint scent of horses and sweat. They rode over a low rise and stopped.
Jedda didn’t know what to make of it. There was a small group of mounted Faenyr racing around back and forth. He thought the one in front, on a pale yellow horse, might be in trouble, being chased around by three others.
“What’s going on? Shouldn’t we help?” he asked, turning Jespen toward Cham.
Cham grinned, shaking his head. Jedda watched him for a moment and then turned back to the ruckus down below. Now the pale yellow horse was chasing a darker horse. Amber colored. All four horses were various shades of gold, from the deep amber of the lead horse to the pale gold of the first rider they had seen. Manes and tails were light and flowing, only one had a dark mane. Even from this distance, it was unmistakable.
“What is going on? What are they doing?” Jedda asked.
“They are playing qwatcha,” Cham said. “Remember how I told you they almost live on horseback? Qwatcha is a game they especially like to play. This is about as lucky as we might have gotten.” He kicked Trillian into motion
“What in the nine hells is qwatcha?” Jedda asked, calling out to Cham’s retreating back.
Cham had already put heels to Trillian who had been champing at his bit, eager to join the herd. Jespen broke into a canter, then a light gallop, keeping pace with the lead horse, as they went to meet the Faenyr.
The riders spotted them almost as soon as they moved off the ridge and pulled their horses up, riders and horses alike heaving from exertion.
Cham rode in first and spoke with them, a quick exchange back and forth that Jedda couldn’t understand.
As they spoke, Jedda couldn't help but stare in awe. He was looking at four of the most ethereally beautiful people he had ever seen. Jedda recognized the tawny skin so like his own, but with a lustre his lacked. Their hair, swept back into braids like Cham’s, had an almost metallic sheen-- from a silvery gold to a copper reminiscent of his own hair. Even their horses seemed mystical. They actually glowed. Trilly’s coat had a natural lustre to it that Jedda thought was just coincidence, but it was nothing compared to the Tajynal horses.
He glanced over at Kirrin and Tattia, who seemed as bespelled as he was. There was a gracefulness in every movement the Faenyr made. The one on the pale horse swung his leg up over his horse’s wither, sitting as easily as if he were on a chair.
After a moment, Cham turned in his saddle to address his companions, switching back into Chanem. "This is Kai.” He nodded towards the one in front. “The others here are Ollen, Piqua, and Trellyn.” Each one nodded as he spoke their name. Cham continued, introducing Jedda and the others, in turn.
“None of my companions are familiar with the Faenyr tongue,” Cham said, explaining why the others did not say anything.
The one called Kai stepped forward. “The Chanem language is known to me, and to Ollen. The girls,” he inclined his head toward Piqua and Trellyn, “have some understanding and you would honor them by helping to improve their ability.”
“Understand, please," Cham added, "that Faenyr customs are not known among them and if any errors are made, it is for lack of knowledge of what is appropriate.”
Kai nodded, looking over each of them in turn. He smiled then and spoke carefully.
“Your horses are cared for and speak well of you. We are here to practice our skills and train the horses for playing at qwatcha. You would honor us by joining in and allowing for a full game to be played.”
Jedda saw the look on Cham’s face change. Cham chewed on his lip, brow furrowed.
“My friends are not familiar with the game,” Cham said. He sounded worried. He looked over his shoulder at his friends, then back to the Faenyr. “Caution might be advised, for their sakes, while they learn.”
Ollen stepped forward, coming alongside Kai. “Come. We teach. You will learn. It is good.”
The four of them exchanged worried looks and Jedda wondered what he had ridden into. He was about to find out.
The three of them got a crash course in playing qwatcha. Ollen did most of the speaking. Piqua and Trellyn kept piping in, but Jedda couldn’t understand anything they were saying. That didn’t seem to bother them at all though, as they injected enthusiastic comments and instructions.
“Qwatcha roughly translates as rounding up, or gathering,” Cham explained. “It is like a relay race played against a competing team.” As he spoke, he drew on the ground.
Jedda listened closely, trying to understand. Cham pointed out a barrel at either end of their playing field. Those were the base points. Four red batons and four blue batons. The batons started at opposite ends. Rider number one had to get the baton and pass it to rider two, then along to rider three, and then rider four, who then had to get the baton to their “home.”
“That sounds pretty easy,” Jedda said. “I can manage that.” He felt a brief moment of relief.
The four Faenyr laughed.
“There’s more to it, isn’t there?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“A little bit,” Cham said, nodding. “The riders who do not carry the baton are either protecting the carrier or trying to steal the other team’s baton. If you steal a baton it gets returned to its ‘base.’ Rider one again tries to get it and pass it along.”
“So, you’re going to try to hand a stick to me, at very high speed, and those four over there will be trying to kill me.”
The four Faenyr laughed even harder.
“They have been practicing and training here. That is why they are still in the same location. Their village is a little more than a day away,” Cham explained, looking pointedly at them.
Kai spoke up. “The fire was noted three nights ago, so there was the hope of having riders to practice with.”
Cham turned back to the group. “The game is played with eight to twelve riders, so they are pleased by our arrival and that we are not from a rival village.”
Ollen nudged his horse forward and slid down in one fluid movement. Jedda watched, and couldn’t even sense a tiny thud or jarring when his feet hit the ground. “To make a game that has more interesting, there will be teams divided evenly. Kai and Trellyn are best riders, so one for each side.”
Jedda realized they were choosing teams that would be as fair and evenly matched as possible. He would be riding with Kai, Tattia and Trellyn: Kirrin and Cham rode with Ollen and Piqua.
Kai brought his horse up by Tattia and Jedda. “Trellyn will be first rider, number one. He will hand to Tattia,” he said, accenting the name differently than Jedda was used to hearing. “And Tattia will hand to Jedda and then to myself for the scoring.”
Jedda looked over to Cham who was receiving similar instructions.
The two teams came back together.
“We will pla
y practice match,” Ollen said. “How you say? Children’s rules?”
Jedda turned to Cham for an explanation.
“It means no collisions.”
Jedda let out a half laugh, feeling as though he were about to be ill. “Oh, great. Fantastic.”
The next several hours passed at high speed. At first, Jedda was completely confused and got turned around or lost the baton when it was his turn. His teammates yelled frantically, calling out instructions that he couldn’t understand. After a while he began to make a little more sense of what was going on.
They were on the third baton and Tattia had handed off to him at a gallop. He saw the look on her face, she looked thrilled, joyous. He envied her for that as he grabbed the baton and raced off. She rode just in front of him, forcing Piqua away from him. Whatever resentment he might have felt, he appreciated her skill at blocking the other riders.
Kai rode up hard on his other side, shouting, “To your west.” He looked around wildly, only spotting Trellyn riding up on his other side at the last moment. They did not use “left” and “right” to indicate directions. They used the directions on the compass, particularly east and west, or rather the Faenyr terms: ‘ocha,’ and ‘icha,’ which sounded much too similar for Jedda’s liking. By the end of the game he was used to it and realized that he never had to guess whose ocha or icha was being called. West was always west, no matter where they were standing.
Jedda was sore and exhausted by the time the game was over. He hoped Cham had time to work his magic on Jeddas’ aching muscles after. But for the moment he needed to tend to his horse. Jespen was lathered and breathing hard. He took the reins and loosened the girth to walk him out. Jedda noticed Kai nearby, tending to his own horse. He pulled the saddle off straight away. Jedda’s jaw dropped.
“There’s no girth,” he spluttered. “His saddle, it has no girth. How in the nine hells are you riding without a girth?”
Kai looked over at him. “What means girth?”
“Girth,” Jedda said, holding up his own girth.
“Oh. Chanem thing,” he said, nodding. “Tajynal not needing girth. Stay on horse.” He smiled as if it was a simple task.
Jedda’s jaw dropped further, but he was curious now. He noted that Kai’s saddle was different than his. It seemed more like padding than a saddle. But the light was fading and Jespen stomped his feet, impatient. So he turned and started to walk out his horse, stretching his arms and shoulders while he moved.
Kai caught up with Jedda as he was walking Jespen around the edge of the playing area. “You did honor to play at the game,” he said, his speech halting as he looked for the words and phrases he wanted.
Jedda wasn’t sure what was expected of him. In Tatak Rhe, he had to learn protocols and social norms when he was brought into one of the most powerful political Houses in the region. But at least he had been among humans. After watching the four Faenyr playing qwatcha, he was beginning to grasp how different they were. They worked together, collaboration and cooperation that flowed. Even in the midst of a heated game, it didn’t feel like they were competing against each other. No one tried to be ‘the best,’ and even between teams there was respect and admiration. They would complement or whoop for someone on the opposite team when a good play was made.
He looked over at Kai, trying not to stare. Kai appeared to be about his own age or a little younger. They were closest in age compared to the others. Kai smiled shyly when he noticed Jedda watching him. Jedda guessed Kai might be just as curious.
“You are come from…echan’mroa?” Kai asked, waving his hand towards the ridgeline.
Jedda made a guess that Kai was asking if he was from outside, in Chanmyr. “We came here from Tatak Rhe. That is across the river. The Pember River,” he added, thinking Kai would know that.
“Tatak Rhe?” Kai asked. “The yrrchak city?”
Jedda didn’t know what the word meant, but he nodded, trying to be polite. “I grew up in Tatak Rhe. Chanmyr. But I want to learn about my Faenyr family.” Jedda thought he had spoken politely, but Kai had a strange expression that Jedda couldn’t read.
“That is your horse?” Jedda asked, hoping to find safe ground.
Kai smiled, pride showing. He patted the horse’s shoulder. “K’wijda. A bold runner with quick stepping.”
They had rounded the far corner of the field by now and Jedda ran a hand down Jespen’s chest. The horse felt cooler, his hide damp but not hot, his heart rate normal.
“Tatak Rhe is near Treyu?” Kai asked.
Jedda shook his head. “Not really. Four days by horse, maybe?”
“Treyu is there,” Kai said, pointing to the southwest.
“What is Treyu like?” Jedda asked.
It was Kai’s turn to shrug. “Many like you. A city. Many people. But many like you.”
“You mean mixed race?”
“Mixed race?” Kai repeated. “Chanem-faenyr. Yes. Mix?”
Jedda nodded, and Kai smiled as he searched for the words, happy when he got them right.
“Tell more of Tatak Rhe,” Kai asked, as they continued to walk, the light slowly fading around them.
Jedda considered what to tell Kai. He certainly wasn’t going to tell him about the dark and dirty politics and spying he had been involved in.
“It is a beautiful city. Made of stones like the moons, those colors. On a hill beside a great river. Bridges span across the river and boats travel up and down it. It takes more than a whole day, or two, to walk all the way across from one end to the other.”
Kai’s eyes went wide when he heard that. That encouraged Jedda to tell him more about the city, the buildings and parks, and the gardens with their enchanted plants that seemed alive. He also told Kai about his friends, especially Trey and Diya.
“Ah,” Kai said. “This Diya, she is carried in the heart, here?” he said, tapping Jedda on his chest, in the center.
Jedda nodded, feeling a twinge. When he had left, he thought his heart would break. He wondered where she was and what she might be doing. He imagined her at some party fending off Linna and Minna, the two who were at the gossip-center of the social circles. He told Kai about when Trey taught him to swim, after pushing him into freezing cold water as a joke.
Kai thought that was very funny. And telling it now Jedda could see the humor in it.
“This Trey friend is close to you?”
Jedda nodded, tapping his chest where Kai had tapped it. But Kai cocked his head, looking confused for a second.
“Trey, that is a friend carried in the heart, here,” Kai said, as he patted his right hand across his chest over his heart. “And then there are the friends we carry here, like this,” he said, cupping both hands together in the center of his chest.
“Trey,” he repeated, patting his chest again. “Diya,” hands clasped.
Jedda nodded, smiling, repeating the gesture: an affectionate tap for Trey, friend-love. Then he clasped his fingers together to show Diya- something precious. Kai was trying to teach him something Faenyr.
They circled the playing field and Kai showed Jedda where he could put Jespen. The Faenyr had a camp near where they had been playing, with a lean-to for the horses. They rubbed down and watered the horses together. Jedda thought about Trey while they worked. Trey would be cackling to watch Jedda play this game on horseback. Trey would be brilliant at it, fearless, bold bordering on reckless. It was too bad Trey was human, he was born for this game.
“Hai,” Kai said, to his horse. The simple word broke Jedda out of his thoughts. Kai gave his K’widja a pat on the shoulder and the horse buried his nose in Kai’s ribs. Kai touched his forehead to K’widja’s brow and then gave him a friendly shove.
“Aren’t you going to tie him?” Jedda asked, holding onto Jespen’s lead rope.
Kai just gave him that curious look and smiled. Jedda was reluctant, but untied the rope from Jespen and gave him a silent hug, praying Jespen didn’t run away. Then he turned to Kai, who nodded his appr
oval.
The two of them caught up with the others, who hadn’t spent as much time dawdling. A fire was going and they were settled in around it. As they walked up, Ollen stood and said, “Firewood,” looking at the group.
Cham looked up. “Would extra hands lighten the work?”
Ollen smiled and nodded. Cham stood up and Tattia climbed to her feet as well. Kirrin was busy mending the strap on his pack.
Kai showed Jedda to their camp, a spacious lean-to with cubbies to stow gear and raised beds with woven mats on them. “Ollen’s, Trellyn, Piqua, and Kai,” he said, pointing to four of the six cots.
Jedda wasn’t sure what to do about deciding sleeping arrangements. He didn’t think it should be his decision. He nodded and pointed to his pack. “Where can I put this, for now?”
Again, the odd face, but Kai showed him a place where he could leave his pack among other packs and bedrolls which were already there.
Later that night, after the fire had burned down to embers, they all headed up to the lean-to. Ollen pulled down two netted hammocks. “There are hooks here, and here,” he said, indicating poles in the outer corner. “Also hooks outside on the tree, there,” he pointed to a solid looking maple tree. Jedda was excited to try sleeping in a hammock and drifted off to sleep to the gentle swaying of the night breeze.
The next day was filled with qwatcha. And when they weren’t playing qwatcha, they were learning strategies, explained mostly through Ollen and Kai. Jedda watched the others too. He noticed how playing styles mirrored personalities. Tattia played with a creative intuition, laughing and shouting with enthusiasm, trusting her horse to make decisions,. Kirrin, on the other hand, was more aloof, calculating, analyzing, with a kind of stillness. But he always seemed to show up out of nowhere, as though he planned ahead and saw not where a rider was, but where he was going to be. Cham played a bit more like the Faenyr. They made smoother transitions between blocking and attacking, players changing places so smoothly that Jedda would look up, expecting he would see Kai, only to have Trellyn riding alongside his horse. They played with a unity that came from having more experience.