The Lesser Kindred (ttolk-2)

by Elizabeth Kerner

  "Mirazhe and I have been thinking of our new life in Kol-mar, that we will share with the Gedri," said Kedra, smiling. "I am looking forward to it, but it occurred to Mirazhe last night that it might be a good idea to bring with us gifts to ease the sudden arrival of so many of us."

  "She is wise, your good lady," I said. "That was well thought. What sort of gifts?" I asked. I had much to say to the Kantri, but I was waiting now for Idai. "What could we possible take that the Gedri would—want—" Even as I spoke I realised what he meant. "Kidra!"

  He laughed. "Yes, my father. Hlansif trees! We can bring seeds, seedlings, even a full-grown tree or two, and see which survives. I suspect we would then be made most welcome."

  "I suspect you are right. To save the Gedri that dangerous voyage—" And suddenly I caught myself. There would be no more wild journeys across perilous seas. Had Kedra and Mirazhe not thought of it, there would have been no more hlansif trees in all the world. The Gedri camp, the boundary fence, the Summer Field, our Great Hall, would not be left behind. They would be gone—gone—all burned, all buried under rock, or else drowned deep in ocean for all time. Somehow it all became real to me in that moment.

  This was the ending of my world.

  I closed my eyes. Ah, but my heart was leaden with sorrow!

  "Father?" came Kedra's voice. Quiet, worried, a little fearful.

  I could not leave him to do all by himself. There would be a time to mourn when all were safe and far, far away.

  I forced myself to smile at my dear son. "We will have to plant a grove of our own and tend it, that we may use the leaves in trade." I smiled at him. "It is very well thought, but we must ask if any of the others are willing to carry such things. You and Mirazhe will be full burdened with Sherok, and I carry the soulgems of the Lost."

  Just then a dark shape appeared above—Idai, apologising as she arrived.

  She backwinged and landed beside me. "Good morrow, my friend," she said, when with no warning it struck.

  The high-pitched shriek, that these days was never silent, suddenly increased until it was acutely painful, and as a counterpoint there came the deep drawn-out rumble that shakes both body and mind, and the ground beneath our feet began to sway violently.Those who had been balancing on tail and back legs, as I had been, fell over. It was the worst earthshake I had ever been through. It is difficult to explain how confusing it was. That dreadful high shriek had been scraping my nerves raw for days, and then the very earth I was standing on moved like a treacherous sideslip in the air. Trees at the edge of the field toppled over with a great tearing and crashing, I was assaulted on all sides by sound and movement and / kept looking for the ground. All my instincts told me that the ground does not move, but what I was standing on was moving and so could not be the ground. I was looking for the solid place and it did not exist. It was terrible.

  It felt like ages, but Idai, who had managed to get airborne, told me that it did not in truth last very long. For that I was profoundly grateful. Many, including my son and his family, managed to get aloft with Idai and avoid the worst of it, but those of us on the ground had scrapes and bruises to show for our slow reactions. I would have appreciated time to get over it but I was more than ever convinced that we had no more time.

  I called out in truespeech, asking if any were injured or in need of assistance. There was no response, but a dreadful thought occurred to me in the silence that followed my asking.

  Until that moment I had forgotten about Urishhak and Roccelis. They were old friends, both afflicted by the joint ill, who had lived for the last kell or so together in a large cave on the north side of the island. I had been in the way of visiting them at one time, for I enjoyed their company, but it had been many years. I bespoke them both, calling with all my strength, but there was no answer.

  I called out aloud, "Toklurik, I pray you, attend me here."

  He landed before me and bowed. "Eldest? What can I do?"

  "T6k, forgive me—you are kin to Roccelis, I believe?"

  "Yes, she is my mother's sister, I—name of the Winds!" He crouched to take off, but I restrained him. "Wait! I know you would seek her out, but first tell me—does she keep the Weh?"

  "Her last Weh sleep ended scarce ten winters past," he said, distracted. I knew he was calling his aunt, and from the distress in his eyes I knew he was hearing no more than I had.

  "Be at peace, Toklurik," I said quietly. "The Lady Urishhak does not answer either and she is the last of her line. There are none even to be concerned about her."

  "I must find out if Roccelis lives," he cried. "She might be injured, helpless—I must go to her!"

  "The Kantri are going to have to leave this island in a maiter of hours, my friend," I said. "We may be forced to go before you have time to return."

  "Then I will fly after you," he said simply.

  "Toklurik—"

  "I go now, Eldest," he said. "If you are not here, which way does Kolmar lie?"

  I bowed. "Fly east and a little south. You will not miss it!

  But Tok, be warned. If our Ancestors are correct it is a good five days' flight. Gain altitude every chance you get, rest on the wind when you can—" I stopped myself, for he was grinning at me.

  "I thank you, Hadreshikrar," he said, bowing gaily to me. "I have not forgotten your lessons, and"—he hissed his laughter—"despite the lack of pupils neither have you, for I would swear the words have not changed since you instructed me full a thousand winters gone!"

  "There is a small island south of east from here, that you should reach towards the end of the second day," I said, as he crouched to take off. "There is fresh water there, if nothing else. And the rest of us will never be more than a thought away."

  "I thank you, Shikrar," he said. "I will speak with you again as soon as I have learned their fate."

  "Fly well and join us when you can," I said.

  I had known both Urishhak and Roccelis for many years, and never in all that time had I bespoken them and received no answer from either. I understood the need of their kinsman to seek for them, to know for certain, but in my own heart I knew that they were gone. I was very slightly consoled by the thought that at least those two, best of friends, went forth together, and as they never even cried out they must have died very swiftly indeed.

  I found it increasingly difficult to think in the face of the high screech that seemed never to end. The air, as well, was now hazy and full of something that made many of us cough. It was time to go, but there was one thing left that must be done.

  "Who keeps the Weh?" I called out as loud as I could. The question was echoed round the field, and two names came back to me through Trizhe.

  "Eldest, there are two who keep the Weh, Gyrentikh and Nikis."

  "Has anyone tried to rouse them?"

  "Not that I know of."

  "You are kin to Gyrentikh, are you not?"

  "Distantly," said Trizhe, and unexpectedly he grinned. "Though I cannot think I would have fought and laughed with a brother any harder."

  "Then call him. Do everything in your power to shatter his Weh sleep," I said fervently. "He took to his Weh chambers some moons since, did he not?"

  "Nearly three moons past, Eldest."

  "He is young, mat should be long enough. Go then, swiftly, stand at his ear and shout if you have to, but wake him!"

  "I go," he said, though he looked a little dazed as he took to the air.

  I cried out again, thankful for strong lungs and the silence of shock that most of us were in. "Who here is soulfriend to Nikis?" I asked.

  Dhretan, little Dhretan stepped forward. He was the next youngest of us all, last born before my own grandson and barely come of age at just over five hundred winters. He bowed to me, very correctly. I could not help but smile.

  "Eldest Shikrar, I have that honour. I am soulfriend to Nikis," he said.

  "May I bespeak you?"

  "Of course," he replied.

  "There is no time for niceties. Under
stand, Dhretan, I would not break your faith with Nikis, but her life is in danger if we cannot wake her from her Weh sleep. Know you where her Weh chamber is?"

  He looked terribly awkward at me question, as well he might. Unlike the Gedri, we grow larger throughout our lives—I am the largest of the Kantri as well as the Eldest. When our bodies feel the need to grow we are taken by the Weh sleep with very little warning, sometimes a day or two, sometimes only hours. We each have separate Weh chambers, far from our own living chambers, where we go to rest alone. Our old scales flake off and burn to ash, and as we sleep the soft new armour hardens slowly over several months, allowing us to grow without hindrance for that time. In the depths of the Weh sleep we cannot be awakened,

  and any of our kind who stay near the sleeper are affected and will slumber as well. Therefore we must keep the Weh far from others, and as we are so vulnerable we tend to keep the location of our Weh chambers secret from all save perhaps a mate, or a soulfriend. That secret is given to be kept, not revealed.

  "Dhretan, if it were not a question of saving her life you know I would not presume. For her sake I beg you, take me to her Weh chamber. The two of us will go and between us try to wake her or—or perhaps we shall attempt the impossible, and try to carry her here."

  Dhretan's astonishment showed clearly, but he had no choice.

  "I will take you, Eldest," he said.

  "I thank you. My soul to the Winds, Dhretan, you serve your friend well in this."

  Before we left, I summoned Idai and Kretissh. Idai was eldest after me, and Kretissh after her.

  "My friends, there is not a moment to lose," I replied. "I go with Dhretan to waken Nikis, if it may be done, and to bring her here if that is possible. I must leave all else with you. There are five casks fashioned of khaadish outside my chambers, and within them are the soulgems of our Ancestors. Find bearers for them, of your kindness—I had meant to carry the soulgems of the Lost myself, but I may have a greater burden. And I pray you, send another dozen of the swiftest to collect hlansif trees, or seedlings, or whatever they can find. Kedra has thought it best that we arrive with gifts, and he has the right of it."

  "Arrive where, Shikrar?" asked Kretissh, and around him the question was repeated. "Where do we go? Where is there to go?"

  "There is no choice, my people," I said. "We must return to Kolmar."

  "No!" cried a great voice, and I was not overly surprised to recognise it as Rinshir's. "Are we to beg house-room of the Gedri, Shikrar? The last time we lived there a single

  Gedri killed fully half of us for no reason! Are we then to return and let them complete the task?"

  "Please, Rinshir," I said as calmly as I could, fighting back the anger that rose at his words. "I know your objections, but it is not as if we have a choice."

  "Alas, my father speaks truth, Rinshir," said Kedra. "Not only did our revered Ancestor Keakhor tell us that there was nowhere else to go; I have set out early and returned only when the light failed, sometimes flying for two long days before I turned back, most days of the last two moons." He bowed his head. "My people, there is nothing but barren rock, and little enough of that, for many days in any direction save east. There I found a small green island at the limit of two days' flight. It is barely the size of this field but there is a pool there with sweet water, and room enough to stand. We may at least rest there on our way."

  "Shikrar, I still do not—" began Rinshir, but I was done with patience.

  "You fool!" I cried, standing in Command. "Our doom shakes the very ground beneath our feet and you waste time on talk. Go then, fly from the fate the Winds place before you, fly south or north or west until your strength fails and the cold sea claims you, but do not hinder those of us who wish to live!"

  "My people," I continued, raising my voice to carry, "Kol-mar was our home for many long lives of our people before we chose exile on this island. I was born here, we all were, and all the lives of our parents before us were passed in this place, but before that we shared Kolmar with the Gedri for all the mingled lives of both our peoples. This very island we named the place of exile. My people, our exile is done. We are going home."

  "Very good, well said. I think they have understood it at last," muttered Idai in my ear, "but unless you get moving no one else is going to raise a wing." I crouched and prepared to go aloft, but Idai stood directly before me for a moment and addressed me silently. "And precisely how do you intend to waken Nikis? You know that the Weh affects all who go too near the one who sleeps."

  "Idai, that was proven true by one who sat outside a cavern in the sunshine. I suspect there will be enough to think about to keep me wakeful." I replied. "Still, I would be grateful if you would bespeak me every few minutes, lest the Weh take me unawares."

  "Humph. So you do have some sense after all," she said roughly. Her words in truespeech were far kinder. "Go carefully, my friend. We are beset with dangers, and of us all we can least bear to lose you."

  "I shall take good care of this old hide." I replied lightly. "Go with the Winds, and get you aloft with as many as will follow you as soon as you can," I said aloud. "Do not wait for me, Idai. Get aloft, fly high, find the air currents if they are there to be found. East and a little south. Kedra knows the way."

  I turned to Dhretan. "Let us go," I said, and leapt into the air.

  "Eldest, a question," said Dhretan as we flew.

  "Nearly youngest, an answer if I have one," I said, trying to keep my tone light. He was very young, after all.

  To his credit, his voice was calm. "What shall we do if we cannot wake Nikis ? "

  "If we cannot wake her, littling, then I will bear her hither myself. We will not leave her behind." I said, wondering at my own presumption. Still, it was not the journey from her Weh chamber that concerned me. That, I felt certain, I could do. It had never been done before, but I did not doubt that I could do it.

  How we could bear a full-grown lady on borrowed wings for five long days, however, was another question entirely.

  Rella

  I walked straight down the stairs and out the door. I instinctively avoided making myself obvious, but a lifetime spent in the Service made me notice what kinds of folk were there. Mostly local Merchants of the lesser houses, farmers—oh, and the Healer had stopped for a drink as well— one or two young couples—a minstrel in the corner, playing to no one as usual—a particular type of nod and gesture from a figure in the corner, that was a colleague, I replied with the "all's well." A quiet night, then, widi luck.

  All this I noticed while I was hurtling through the common room and out the door. I never cease to be amazed at what one person can do in just a few moments.

  AYE, RELLA YOU IDIOT, LIKE SLAPPING JAMIE. OH, THAT WAS BRILLIANT.

  I hate it when that voice in my head starts talking back. I started pacing up and down the street outside the inn, my anger rising nicely to the boil.

  Could have been worse, I told that other voice. 7 could have really hit him, like 1 wanted to. Bastard! What brought all that on, anyway? When have J ever played the mercenary since I met—Hells, even since I met Lanenl

  AND HER WITH THE EYES OF MY SWEET THYRIS, MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE GIRL, TAKEN FROM ME ALL THOSE YEARS GONE. I KNOW, I WAS LOST. WHEN SHE STARTED BEING KIND TO ME FOR NO REASON, YOU KNOW, I COULDN'T TREAT IT LIKE JUST ANOTHER ASSIGNMENT. MARAN'S DAUGHTER AND ALL-POOR MARAN, I'VE HARDLY SENT WORD ONCE A FORTNIGHT, AND THE CONTRACT SAYS FOUR TIMES A MONTH.

  That Farseer's not wasted on her. She'll know what's going on.

  AYE, AS FAR AS SIGHT WITH NO SOUND CAN TELL HER. I'M THREE REPORTS DOWN. SEND ONE TONIGHT, THAT WAS ONE OF OURS IN THAT CORNER. STRANGE. WHAT'S HE DOING HERE? STILL, ELIMAR'S A BIG PLACE.

  You're avoiding the issue. Jamie. What are we going to do about Jamie?

  WHAT IS THERE TO DO? ASIDE FROM WANTING TO KICK HIM I CAN'T HELP

  GETTING FOND OF THE MAN, HE'S A DAMN GOOD FIGHTER. I'VE WATCHED HIM TEACHING VARIEN, HE'S PATIENT AND CLEVER, HE'S A GOOD MAN—.
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  The fact that he's our age and well made and moves like a dancer doesn't hurt, and he treats us—treated us—like a normal person, and when the light is right he's quite comely enough to be getting on with—

  AND WE'VE GOT A CROOKED BACK THAT IS GETTING MORE PAINFUL EVERY YEAR. HELLS, HE THINKS WE'RE PAID DEMON FODDER, RELLEDA MY GIRL. HE WOULDN'T GIVE US A SECOND GLANCE IF WE WERE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN EVER BORN. BESIDES, HE'S GOT A FUME IN HIS HEART YET FOR MARAN, DESPITE EVERYTHING SHE HAS DONE TO HIM. I HEARD IT IN HIS VOICE THAT NIGHT.

  Aye, and she has one for him. Remember!

  HARD TO FORGET.

  I suspect I'd have come up with something sensible just then, only somebody tapped me on the shoulder.

  I drew a dagger and whirled, all in a motion, but he wasn't near enough to hit. There stood Jamie, standing well out of my reach, with the light from a distant doorway just about enough to let me see the laughter in his eyes. Not mocking, just amused.

  "Just making sure you're not losing your touch," he said carelessly.

  "If you'd been any closer, you idiot—" I snarled, sheathing the dagger.

  "If I'd been any closer I would be an idiot." He stood with his hands behind his back. "In fact I'd be a bleeding idiot," he said with half a smile. It was an old scrapper's joke and not that funny, but I found the other half of the smile for him. Damn his eyes. I wanted to stay angry, so I stood and faced him there in the street. "What was it you wanted, Master?" I asked, planting my fists on my hips. I'm afraid the anger in my voice might not have been entirely convincing, but it's hard to fool another of your own profession.

  'To apologise," he said, and he bowed to me right there in the street. I was starting to feel flattered until I realised.

  "Fine," I said, angry again. "You can go back to Lanen and tell her you've made peace with me. Just let me alone."

  Jamie smiled then—not a wry grin or a mocking grimace, just a plain smile. Goddess, he had a good smile. "Oh, no. Not yet. You may not know it, Mistress, but for the most part I'm a stranger to the ways of women."

  "No, really?'

  "Not that I haven't shared a bed with a few," he said happily. "I have, and heartily enjoyed it too."