In the end, Maran wandered into a litde town and came back shamefaced. We were much too far south and west, it seemed. I gathered up my charges and rose up aloft, bearing north and east. I took pleasure in the smell of the trees rising to meet me, in having so vast a land to fly over. Our old island took less than three hours’ flying, end to end. There was so much to see here!
Lanen and I began to consider, simply as an exercise, the possibility of some kind of harness that I might wear, whereby she might in future accompany me in more comfort. We whiled away quite a few idle hours on possible designs.
In the midaftemoon of the fifth day, Lanen bespoke me to say that Maran had recognised a great stone house not far from Beskin. We came to land at the edge of a large field. The cattle galloped away, which suited me well. Maran led us—swiftly by her standards, at a snail’s pace by mine—along the road for a few miles, and up. Beskin lies in a cosy valley, protected by half a ring of hills at its back, looking out over rich farmland, and behind the bare hills around Beskin lies an arm of the Trollingwood, the vast northern forest that sprawls over most of the width of Kolmar. Maran assured the others that the Trollingwood was just far enough away for the villagers of Beskin to be safe from marauding wolves and bears. Most of the time.
I walked with the three of them to the door of Maran’s house. The village seemed deserted, but Maran laughed and told me that everyone was hiding. “We’ll have the chance to sort it out later, Akor, never fear,” she said. She seemed curiously pleased to be invading the village at the feet of a terrible marauding dragon. That’s what they’ll think you are, at least,” said Maran, her grey eyes alight. “I think I’ll let you talk them out of it.”
Her home was built on two levels with several rooms in each. I found Gedri buildings astounding and stared into each window in turn, but the little stone courtyard around the smithy was far too small for me. I could only stand there coiled about myself, with my wings tight furled and my tail firmly tucked out of the way. ft would be like trying to live in a tiny cage.
Lanen, realising for the first time that I must dwell entirely apart from her, turned stricken eyes up to me. “Akor, what—damn, I thought you’d be nearby at least—” Her eyes filled with tears, which she dashed impatiendy away. Her raging emotions, over which she had no control, made her furious.
“Do not be concerned, my heart,” I replied. “We are but new-come here. There will be plenty of time for change.” I grinned. “And possibly for building. Lady Maran, have you thought of a place nearby where I might rest, or shall I seek shelter in the Trollingwood?”
Maran met my gaze and replied, sadly, “For now, Akor, I fear it must be the Trollingwood. I have ploughed my brains for days, and I can think of nowhere large enough for you to stay. Forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” I replied, doing my best to keep the sorrow from my voice. “I will see what may be done. You are certain that none claim land in the Trollingwood?”
“Certain sure,” said Maran, grinning. “It’s said to be far too dangerous in there.”
“How clear-sighted of people, to know in advance that I was coming to dwell therein,” I said lightly. I leaned down and came within Lanen’s reach. “I am ever here, dearling,” I said in true-speech as she laid her hand gently upon my faceplate. “No more than a thought away. And if it may be done, perhaps we will make the smithy courtyard more worthy of the Kantri.” Aloud I added, “If you all will meet me at the edge of the wood tomorrow at dawn, I will guide you to whatever chambers I have been able to find.”
By the next morning, I was pleased to show them my new dwelling. It was but a short distance from the eaves of the wood. I had found a cave nearly large enough to fit into, and there was a good clear stream not far away. With some effort on my part, it would be a comfortable enough place to dwell. I also asked Maran, who said that no other owned the land round about her house, and I was welcome to enlarge her courtyard to my heart’s content if I would do the work of laying the stone floors and building walls.
I took it as a challenge.
Lanen
It was the oddest feeling I have ever known, walking into Be-skin. I had never been there before, but—how shall I explain it? It began with the scent of the Trollingwood, whose western edge lay near my old home in Ilsa. I knew that smell and it was the same here, only wilder somehow. The air was fresh and sharp with the scents of pine and balsam, the ground was rich, the hills felt like old friends. I walked into Beskin and felt that I had come home, to a place I had never seen. It was very strange, but oddly reassuring.
Maran’s house was huge. Her grandfather had built il with Ills sons, and there was room and to spare for all of us. The rooms were sparsely furnished, the furniture well made and lovely in its simplicity. One of Maran’s brothers, Harald—Goddess, how odd, to have uncles and aunts!—Uncle Harald is a woodworker, and made all the furnishings in the house himself.
Maran gave me a room to myself on the upper floor, a large airy room looking to the hills, with plenty of space for the children when they came. She slept across the hall, near enough for a hail but far enough for privacy. Vilkas had the third bedroom on that floor to himself.
Maran and I settled in quickly enough, but Vilkas was like a butterfly that could not light upon a single bloom. After a few days, when he was certain that I was well enough and would keep, he went off on his own into the country round, a travelling Healer. During our first three months there, as spring gave way gradually to summer, he would disappear for weeks at a time, turning up suddenly of a morning with a scrip full of silver, looking a little more weather-beaten each time and a little more at peace with himself. He would give me relaxing herbs, examine me closely, make sure the babes were thriving, exhort me to eat more meat, and disappear again.
I managed to sit about the house resting, as ordered, for all of a week. The next morning I was up before Maran, making the porridge and starting the bread. She scowled at me for not following Vilkas’s orders for exacdy three breaths, then she grinned at me. “Bored, are you?” she asked.
“Put me to work,” I begged. “Quick, before I get too big to do anything at all.”
She laughed and led me to the forge, where she provided me with an ancient, scarred leather apron and a thick leather jerkin. I started like the rawest apprentice, working the bellows, but over the days and weeks she taught me how to stoke the fire, the smell and look and sound of iron when it is ready for the hammer, and one memorable day she handed me her second-best hammer and let me get on with trying to shape metal.
I have never known anything like it. I’d never done the like before, but I had watched Maran close for some time by then, and the movements just seemed—natural. The hammer seemed to fit my hand, the iron turned sweetly for me. My mothers eyes gleamed with pride. “By the Goddess, my girl, you’ve the making of a fine smith in you!” she declared.
“Oh, is that what they are?” I said, looking down at my bulge in surprise. She had a grand laugh, my mother, one that started at her toes and took her over entire when she was really amused. Impossible to resist.
When I came near to the start of the seventh month of my pregnancy, however, Vilkas returned and declared that his wandering was over for now.
“I’ve almost two months yet before anything exciting is due to happen, surely?” I said, panting a little. I was finding it harder to breathe, and Maran had banned me from the forge the week before, for her own safety as well as mine.
“You never know with twins,” replied Vilkas, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably.
“And how many twins have you delivered, O Great Dragon Mage?” I asked, teasing.
“Only one set, and that was at Verfaren,” he replied, suddenly serious. “Lanen, now that you mention it, I would like your permission to bring in a colleague to assist me. Her experience with midwifery is much greater than mine.” He grinned a little ruefully. “She is also less likely to terrify an expectant mother, though
I’d hope you would be used to me by now.”
I took advantage of my state to surprise young Vilkas and hugged him tight. “You dear idiot,” I said, releasing him. “I’m married to the largest dragon in all the world, and you think I’d be afraid of you?”
He laughed rather well, all in all. “Still, I would like to call her in for the birth,” he said, “and perhaps a few weeks before. Twins can come early.” He looked about him. “If your mother wouldn’t mind, I expect she’d appreciate a place to stay as well.”
I laughed. “What’s one more in this barn? Do what you need to, Vil. I trust you,” I said.
I should have known, really. Idai arrived a week later, bearing Aral and Will and followed closely by Salera. Vil had gone to Akor, asked him to bespeak Idai and beg her to find Aral. There was a grand reunion, and the house was full.
I was quietly delighted that Will had come with Aral as a matter of course. They had progressed so far as to occasionally hold hands publicly. It was clear to all the rest of us that it only a matter of time. Aral was more contented than I had seen her, and Will stood at least a handspan taller, bless his good soul.
When the new arrivals sought their beds, I stepped out into the long twilight of the northern summer to walk Akor back to his chambers. He had been labouring on Maran’s courtyard, but it was slow work, and not kind to the clumsy hands that attempted it. As we passed the latest disaster of a stone wall I smiled. “Perhaps we can find a stonemason who will trade his skill for raw lifting power,” I suggested. It made Akor hiss with amusement, and for that I was grateful.
I was becoming grateful for anything that helped us to be together. We had begun to live disparate fives, and it worried me. When we were apart, we bespoke one another and we were knit as close as ever. Our souls have ever been the two halves of one whole. In truespeech we shared heart, mind, and spirit, and all was very well. It was only when we were in one another’s presence that we could not ignore the eternal distance between us. Now and ever, Kantri and Gedri, between whom there could be only a meeting of the minds—except in our babes.
I waddled along the rough path, feeling better for the exercise but not able to keep it up very long. We came to an open space where there was a convenient stone to sit on, and I made use of it.
“Are they not yet prepared for the world?” asked Akor lightly, staring fascinated at my awkward body. “Surely you cannot stretch any farther!”
I laughed despite myself. “Alas that we cannot call to them and suggest that now would be a fine time to be born! The Lady knows I am ready for it.” I sighed. “Right now, I’d settle for being able to see my feet.”
I expected Akor to hiss, but he turned away with a moan.
“Dear heart, what is it?” I asked, adding dryly, “I mean, what is it more than we have borne these three months past?”
“Nothing more, Lanen, but—nothing less,” he said. He could not look at me. “The time is nearly come. Our children are ready to be born. And I will never—I cannot—damnation!” He cried out, a wordless shout into the darkling sky. “Lanen, I can bear it no longer!” he groaned. His wings were starting to flutter in his agitation. “Here you are, more beautiful than ever, full of new life we have made between us—and I who have longed for younglings for a thousand years will never be able to hold my own babes.” He began to pace up and down, as much as so large a creature could in the space. “It will be many years ere I dare even to touch them, lest a careless talon should rip through tender skin. I could murder them by mistake!”
“Please, Akor,” I said, trying to compose myself. “Love, don’t break now. I need you more with every passing day.”
“I know it, I know it, but Lanen—Lanen, I cannot bear it! I am come to the end of myself.” He roared, sending Fire into the night sky, and I realised that he was furious. “Ye traitor Winds!” he cried out. “I have given myself, body and soul and life and all, to my people, as you demanded. I never knew love until I knew her. Why have you given us to each other only to tear us apart?” His voice grew even louder. “I cannot bear it!” He was practically dancing on the spot, so desperate was he to be gone from me. I knew exactly what he was feeling, and I couldn’t blame him in the least, and I blamed him with every word he said. He turned to me again, agony in his voice. “Lanen, I cannot bear it!”
Then go,” I said, stonily. “You have wings. You can go wherever in the world you wish.” I stood tall, my belly prominent. “I am held down to earth.”
I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t bespeak him, I knew it would be the last burden on a weakened back, but my anger rose to meet his. “Your childer, Akor. Ourchilder. Donot turn coward on me now, damn you. I need you.”
He screamed then, a soul pushed to the limit of endurance. He rose with a thunderclap into the darkening sky, and his mind voice sang its agony and its contrition as he flew away north, deeper into the great forest.
“Lanen forgive, forgive, I cannot bear it, I cannot bear it any longer. Lanen, my heart, you know that I love you beyond words, to be separate forever from you and from my only younglings, it destroys me, I cannot bear it, forgive, forgive…”
I felt as though I should weep, but there were no tears. Curious. I think I would have been more angry with him if I had not been so relieved He was not the only one who could not stand it any longer. It was not his fault, nor mine. I bowed my head for a moment, my eyes closed. Ah, Lady Mother Skia, I whispered. I heard the bards’ tales but I did not understand. The love that is too wild and strong destroys the lovers every time, doesn’t tt? I don’t think I could have stood his presence a moment longer was agony to see him, agony to have him so close and so infinitely far away. I gazed up where he had gone. Fly well, my heart, I thought, carefully not bespeaking him. Thank you for leaving. Your suffering made mine worse too. If you ever come back, I’M apologise properly.
I walked slowly back to my mother’s house. I got in just before the rain came.
The next evening I went into labour.
Khordeshkhistriakhor
I flew low, ashamed to be aloft yet as unable to stay with Lanen as to turn back time.
I had never thought of myself as a coward before, but I could not escape the evidence. The bravest thing I did was dare to bespeak my wife as I left. My heart burned within me as though it were truly aflame. I flew to escape my skin, to escape the torture of being so near to happiness yet forever separated from it.
I did not fly far. My strength seemed to drain away from the instant I left Lanen. I just managed to glide to a patch of open ground before I fell from the sky. I was confused and dizzy and my eyes didn’t seem to be working very well. I felt rain begin to beat upon me, lightly at first, then harder and harder as the clouds opened. I was soon soaked, and I had the curious feeling that I was shrinking with every raindrop. Perhaps the Winds have heard my plea and have sent this rain to dissolve me, I thought, oddly cheerful. Eyes closed, shaking with fever, I imagined that I grew smaller and smaller. Perhaps Lanen will have room in her womb for me, I thought, but that was a very peculiar thought and I didn’t like it. I decided not to think any longer. That was good. And after another little time, just before the end, I realised that I could no longer move my limbs or feel my wings.
It is over then, I thought, tolerably content for it to be so. Farewell, my dearest Lanen. Even as I sleep on the Winds I will love you. Now awaken, Shikrar! I come! I sang with my last thought, and my mind floated away into darkness.
Lanen
Vilkas and Aral managed to stop my body from continuing with the birth immediately, but at most they could delay it for a fortnight. Still, as Vilkas said, at that stage even three days would be useful.
Idai scoured the land round about, shocked and angry, but Akor was nowhere to be found.
I began labour in earnest ten days later. I was sufficiently terrified to be going on with, but—as Vilkas reminded me forcefully, several times—I had in attendance the two best Healers in all of Kolmar. Will spelled
them at my bedside, letting first one then the other get some rest.
They kept the worst of the pain at bay, and they never left me alone, Goddess bless them. After full twelve hours of it, I’m told—the Goddess is kind, I have no memory of how long it took—my son and daughter were born within minutes of each other. She came out first, followed after a very few moments by her brother.
My mother helped Aral clean them while Vilkas looked doop into their tiny bodies, making certain that all was well with thorn. He nodded, smiling, and they laid my children in my arms. I wept with relief. I wasn’t the only one.
“They’re beautiful, Lanen. They’re just beautiful,” said Maran, grinning madly. “All their fingers, all their toes, one head each. Well done, my girl.” And then she said, more than a little stunned, “Grandchildren. Goddess save us, I have grandchildren.” She burst out laughing. “Oh, very well done, Lanen!”
“Are they meant to be this small?” I asked. I was exhausted, thrilled, worried about them, missing Akor desperately, and utterly enchanted by these two tiny people I held.
Everyone laughed. “They’ve been born a moon and a half early, Lanen,” said Aral. “Yes, they are meant to be tiny. They’re fine, believe me, they’ll grow soon enough. And Vil and I will stay with you for a while yet to be certain that all is well with them.” She grinned. “Have you and Akor chosen names for them?”
“Yes,” I said, choking back a sob. “He is Trezhan, and she is Irian. They are to be called Ta-Varien, to remind them always of their father’s love.” My throat closed on the words. Thankfully, just then there was a knock at the door. Maran, muttering something about Will being a lax door warden, went to answer it. We all waited to hear the voice of the visitor, but whoever it was said nothing but came directly up the stairs. Maran was silent as well. That was unusual, certainly.
[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost Page 40