The Lesser Kindred (ttolk-2)

by Elizabeth Kerner

  I held out my right hand to him and he smiled and took it in his. "I give you my word, Lanen Kaelar," he said, the beauty of that deep warm voice threatening to break down my hard-won self-control. "Always the spiky truth."

  We gazed long at one another in that quiet darkness, our hands softly clasped. It was a vow as great as our marriage vow and we both knew it. Finally he stepped forward to seal

  it, with a kiss so strong and sweet I thought my heart would break. We held each other close for a long moment of utter silence. I remember my thoughts as though I stood there this moment—I would gladly die in this truth, with him.

  I should have known it was too good to last.

  We stood unmoving, drowned in that silent place of joy and pain mingled, until we heard someone shouting "Demons!" down the corridor.

  Ah, well.

  Salera

  I stood at the edge of the dark winter wood in the deep night. The moon had set and dawn was yet distant, but I could smell him now. The longing that had drawn me there was grown large within my breast. I knew he was inside the large pile of cut stone that stood before me, but there was—ah, there was another smell that disturbed me greatly even as it sent a shiver through my wings. Faint, familiar yet never known before, wild and strong, so far beyond me I hardly dared even to breathe it in.

  At first it kept me away, so deep went that scent into my soul, but I could not stay away. He was there, i walked around the piled stone until I found the place where his smell was strongest. Strangely, it was the sound that stopped me. I had forgotten, but when I heard it again the memory rushed over me.

  I had forgotten the sounds he made when he slept. I knew the rhythm of his breathing as I knew my own heartbeat. Fear fell away as I moved close to the small patch of wood in the stone. I remembered that there had been such things in the place we had shared. Those had swung open. Perhaps there were the same?

  I reached up and pulled.

  Will

  Well, I had been dreaming about the demons that had attacked us, and I wake slowly from deep sleep, so it makes sense I'd have thought what I did. For I woke with a start at a strange noise.

  There is was again, the sound that had wakened me.

  Something was outside my window, pulling at the shutters trying to get in.

  "Demons!" I shouted, hoping to goodness someone would hear me, scrambling out of my bed towards the door. I threw it open and shouted. "Vil, Aral, quick, it's demons, in here—"

  Vilkas appeared, rumpled and weary but already ablaze, followed immediately by Aral. "Where? What? What's happened?" he rumbled.

  Jamie and Rella came round the corner with a glass-sided lantern. "Where?" demanded Jamie, though I could see fear on his face.

  "There's one at my window!" I said.

  Rella snorted and the others relaxed. "It's being very restrained, don't you think? They don't usually both to knock."

  I was a bit more awake by then, and a small measure of courage had returned. The noise had stopped as well.

  I went sheepishly back into my room, followed first by Aral, then by Vil, then by Jamie and Rella who were muttering and laughing quietly to themselves. I lit the candle by my bed from the lantern—well, light gives courage, doesn't it?—then went to the window, lifted the latch and threw open the shutters.

  I was promptly knocked onto my backside by the armoured head of a large friendly dragon the colour of new copper with eyes the blue of the sky in spring, or of a little healing flower—

  "Salera!" I cried, delight warring with amazement as I drank in the sight of her.

  To my everlasting astonishment, she looked me in the eye and said, very softly, "Sssahhrrairra."

  Then she licked me.

  Maikel

  I had been wandering ever since I escaped unnoticed from the College. The magnitude of my realisation, the knowledge that I was right and Berys had bewitched me for months, hit me like a physical blow and for a time I drifted vaguely away from Verfaren, mostly north and east, sleeping as little as I could for dread of the dreams that sleeping brought, and eating only enough to keep myself alive, for food had no savour. In a curiously detached way I began to fear for my own life.

  That changed one evening, between one breath and another. I know not how long it had been since I had left Verfaren, but when I woke to myself again it was sudden, and as potent as cold water in the face. There seemed no reason for it—one moment I had been staring into the fire in an inn somewhere, the next I was ordering food and enjoying its taste, my mind vigorous and my own again.

  I was most conscious that my vague fears for Marik's daughter Lanen had grown until I could deny them no longer. I must find her before Berys or Marik did, warn her, help her if I could. I prayed to the Lady that my strength would serve me so long, for even the act of prayer brought a sick feeling to my gut. I prayed the harder therefore, pleading my case to Mother Shia, for I had only my healing ability to provide me a living and I sought only to assist the young woman who had been so unjustly pursued by my old master.

  After beseeching the Lady's aid, I turned my face south with utter certainty. It was as if her presence beat upon me from a distance, like the sun. I blessed the Lady in my deepest heart for her assistance and started walking. My gut was painful and distended, but I could not spare the time to heal it. I sought the lady Lanen now with all my strength. It was all there was in me to do.

  I was caught so deep in the spell that I did not even question my too-easy knowledge of where in all the wide world Marik's daughter might be.

  Will

  I scrambled to my feet, never taking my eyes off Salera. She was too big to come inside anymore, I thought sadly, until she folded her wings up small and sort of flowed over the sill into the room. So much came back to me—her way of moving, the feeling of being near her, and the fact that sharing a room with her was very like having a horse in the house, simply from the point of view of the available space. I didn't care. I had already thrown my arms about her neck when I realised that the others were still there.

  Salera didn't seem to mind overmuch. In fact, she seemed curious. I glanced up to see the other four staring. I laughed, and Aral at least relaxed and laughed with me. "Will, she's glorious," she said, moving forward. "Would she let me touch her, do you think?"

  I grinned. "Littling, this is Aral. She's a friend. Aral, this is Salera."

  Aral held out her hand awkwardly, as to an unknown dog. Salera ignored it, of course, but she gazed at Aral for a long minute and then took a deep sniff of her. I'd seen her do that before, when she first met my sister Lyra. It was her way of learning a new person.

  Aral said quietly, her voice heavy with wonder, "Salera, you are so beautiful. Will told us about you, but he never said how lovely you were."

  Salera gently touched the tip of her long snout to Aral's nose, like a formal handshake; then she pulled away just a little. Aral reached out slowly—I was pleased, that was just the way to behave—and touched the copper-hued faceplate that was so close.

  "It's warm! I mean, she's warm," said Aral, amazed. Salera seemed as interested in Aral as Aral was in her, so I left them to it and went over to the others. It wasn't far to go—Salera was managing to take up most of the room.

  "You never mentioned that you had a pet dragon," said Jamie quietly. There was a quaver in his voice, but I couldn't tell if he was scared or amused. "I'd no idea the creatures were ever so friendly with people."

  I laughed. "She's no one's pet, master, and I haven't seen her in many years." I turned back, it was hard to take my eyes from her. "Far too long, eh lass?" I said.

  She made some kind of sound, as she used to. I always wondered back then if she was trying to speak. She'd spoken her name to me right enough, or something awfully close to it. I still didn't know what to make of that.

  Vilkas stood stock-still by the door, watching everything that happened but keeping well out of it. It wasn't like him, but I got a better look at him when I went to light more ca
ndles. Shia, he looked exhausted. He nodded at me, murmured, "Some demon," and finally released the corona he'd summoned to him. When it was gone he looked like a man who was asleep standing up.

  Rella, on the other hand, had moved into the room to have a closer look. After a minute she lifted one corner of her mouth. "At least she's a more manageable size than the other ones." She stepped forward and bowed to Salera. "I bring you greetings from your cousins Shikrar and Kedra of the Kantrishakrim," she said, grinning. "They think about you all the time, you know."

  "They do indeed," said a new voice. I looked up to see the silver-haired man in the doorway. Couldn't recall his name. He was fully dressed, as if he had been watching with Rella and Jamie, and he wore—

  It was a night for surprises and no mistake. He was wearing a heavy band around his head that was made all of gold. I'd never seen so much in one place before. And I've not yet mentioned the emerald set in the middle of it, the size of Aral's fist! I tried to think if mere were any princes of any of me Kingdoms who matched his description.

  His lady, as tall as he was, stood behind him looking like a different person than the poor pale creature I'd seen earlier. Vilkas had certainly done her the world of good.

  Neither of them could take their eyes off Salera. Mind you, I could understand that. They both approached her with wonder in their eyes, but the man was entranced, bewitched. He walked right up to her—and by my hope of heaven I swear she was as enthralled as he was.

  She ignored me, Aral, everyone, to come up close to him. She looked him all over and took her deep breath, then another, then another. He stood before her and closed his eyes. I began to wonder if he was right in the head.

  Varien

  "Little sister, little cousin, I welcome thee, I greet thee in the name of the Kantrishakrim. Wilt thou not bespeak me, little one, dear one, so dearly met at last? "

  I was overwhelmed. The Tale of the Demonlord I knew was history, but it happened nearly five times my life span in the past. That is very nearly legend—but here was legend stood before me, made in the true image of my own people but a tiny fraction of the size.

  The sight of her pierced my heart. Sherok, whom Lanen helped bring into the world, was the first of the Kantri to be born in five kells, five hundred years. My people were dying, and here was one who looked for all the world like a youngling. I kept waiting for her to speak, I could not stop myself, as long as I wore my circlet I tried to bespeak her, but to no avail. If she had appeared even in some small measure different from the Kantri—but she was not. No matter how long separated our two peoples had been, she was our image made small, undeniably of our blood and our Kindred. Her eyes gleamed brightly, I could tell she was intelligent—but she did not, could not answer me.

  Then my eye was drawn to a detail. There was a raised lump in the centre of her forehead, almost exactly like the structure in a Kantri youngling that protects the soulgem before it is fully formed. However, in the Kantri it is a scale that loosens over time. On this beautiful creature it was still part of her faceplate.

  I spoke aloud. "Do you permit, littling?" I asked, reaching towards her face. She took my scent and approved—those gestures at least were the same. I reached out to touch the raised surface on her faceplate, longing to encounter a thought, wondering if a touch would make the difference.

  It did not. I felt nothing beyond the smooth warmth of her armour. "Alas, little sister," I said, my hand lingering on her cheek ridge, "if you speak, I cannot hear you."

  Will

  "What do you mean, if she speaks? Of course she does!" I said. "Didn't you hear her?"

  "Goodman, I did not. I am Varien rash-Gedri. What are you called?"

  "Willem of Rowanbeck," I said. "Salera is—well, I raised her. We're friends," I said, then I started laughing because Salera was making that very obvious. The room was cold and she must have remembered that I felt the cold that much more, for she settled down by wrapping herself around me and resting her head on my shoulder. I leaned against her, forgetting all the troubles that beset Vilkas and Aral and me, forgetting everything except that my Salera had found me again.

  Then Varien smiled, a smile like sunrise, deep and powerful and brave through sorrow. "There is a word, Master Willem, for such a depth of friendship. Soulfriends." He gazed at the two of us as though his life depended on us. "Soulfriends," he repeated softly.

  Then his lady came up beside him and wrapped her arm about his waist. "Yes, love. And they haven't seen each other in years, and most of the rest of us are asleep on our feet." She put her palm on his cheek, turned his face towards hers and kissed him. "You can adore her again tomorrow," she said, grinning. "Right now I'm claiming a wife's rights. Goodnight, everyone!"

  Vilkas was already gone, claimed by exhaustion. When the new-wedded pair—for what else could they be?—had left, everyone went back to wherever they had been, calling quiet but cheerful goodnights.

  I hardly paid them any heed. That tall lass had been right—"adore" was the right word. I sat and talked to Salera until the sky began to lighten, and I found I had to touch her somehow—just my hand on a wing, or admiring her size and strength. She was half again the size she'd been when last I saw her. I couldn't help it, I kept telling her how beautiful she was. I don't know that she understood, but she dropped her jaw and hissed at me—that's a kind of dragon laugh, I remembered when she did it—and kept wandering around me, always touching. She was as bad as I was, after so long apart we almost needed to be reminded that the other was real.

  "Ah, my girl," I said finally, when the sky outside the window began to brighten in earnest. "I'll need a little sleep at least. Are you weary then, however far you've travelled?" She just gazed at me. "Ah, you look fresh as spring itself, lass," I said, grinning. "Will you mind if I get some sleep?" I laughed at myself. "Truth to tell, I hate to close my eyes in case you're gone when I wake."

  I don't know if anything I said meant anything to her, but when she saw me lie down she more or less wrapped herself about the bed, with me on it, and rested her head on my chest, gazing at me. I kept my eyes open as long as I could.

  Soulfriends. I liked the sound of that.

  Lanen

  It was a blessing and a wonder to wake to life and health and sunlight. I lay for a moment just revelling in the feeling of not being in pain any longer. The voices had receded to the merest whisper for the moment, though they had not gone away. I was almost beginning to be used to them, though I still wondered what they were.

  Then I really woke up.

  "Varien! Varien, we've found them!"

  A bleary voice issued from the other side of the back I was looking at. "Found whom, my dearling?" The back uncurled, turned over and became a groggy semblance of a man. I had to smile—what a difference from the first day of our wedded lives! He looked more than a little dishevelled now, rather than being a vision of perfection. His face was acquiring lines of character, his skin was no longer nearly so soft for our travels had kept us out in all weathers, and his travails of late had put dark circles under those glorious green eyes. I put my arms about him and kissed him. He had been stunning before, a perfection to astonish, awe-inspiring. Now that he was touched by fife he was irresistible, for the awe was still there but now so were the wrinkles.

  I had certainly found the way to waken him, for he kissed me back with a will and—well, we were but lately wed, and I had been so ill...

  "And a good morrow to you, Lanen Maransdatter," he said sometime later, when we were recovering our breath. "I am as ever your willing pupil. Fool that I am, my thoughts began to chasten you for waking me when first I heard your voice. Blessed be the Winds that I learn swiftly! However," he said, sitting up. "I am left in suspense. Whom have we found?"

  "The Lesser Kindred, of course," I replied, not moving. Even his back was lovely. Oh, Lanen, you're deep in, aren't you? I thought to myself, and sat up. "The little dragon, Salera. She's amazing, isn't she?"

  "Alas, my love, I bes
poke her but she did not respond," he said.

  "And did you expect her to?" I asked indignantly. "She's so young. And I'd swear she understands Willem, at least a little." I grinned at my husband. "If they've known one another so long, we are not the first!"

  He laughed as I had hoped he would. "It is hardly the same, though, dearling." He stared at nothing for a moment, thinking. "They are soulfriends, it cannot be doubted, but— it seems more like to a father and daughter than aught else."

  "I'll believe you. How wonderful, when she just curled about him! Come on," I cried, bounding out of bed, "let's go see if she's still here."

  Varien rose and caught me to him, holding me far too tight, as usual. "Lanen, my Lanen, it is good to have you back," he said.

  "Believe me, I'm glad to be here," I said. I kissed him as hard as I could and then leaned back in his arms. "I love you with all my heart and soul, my Varien, but I'm absolutely starving. Food and dragons, in that order."

  We were in the common room in five minutes. That's when we realised that it was nearly midday. And that we were not the last to emerge.

  Rella

  Jamie and I had kept the watch together, before and after the little dragon appeared. True, we were best suited to the task, but it was also one of the best ways to find a little peace and time to talk. Such things are far simpler when you are young; there are no complications and no lurking comparisons, and the wounds to be healed are generally not so deep. I will not bore you with all our talk. We were honest to the point of pain with each other and with ourselves. The eventual result was an unarmed truce, which for two old fighters is not a bad start.

  When dawn came I was all for waking that lazy dragon Varien and letting him stand watch for a change, but Jamie tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at the shutters. I opened them and found that the sun had come up, quietly, behind a screen of light grey cloud.

  "Hola, mistress, a good morrow to you!" said a loud voice from outside and away to my left. "You rise with the sun! A moment and I will have the fire—oh."