Her lips pursed slightly as Elana set her drink aside. She waved a hand at no wall in particular. “I had forgotten these were here — so near us.”
Diana understood. This was another piece of Aggar that the Council would have wished kept from her as an Agent of the Empire. But the firelight and shadows called these images back to life. She wanted to know of this Beginning.
Elana spoke quietly. “Long before the Council… humans rose in the Kingdom of All. There were no animals, no people, just — everyone. None were better or worse. There was food and peace for all… without strife or vindictiveness. Then there was an upheaval… the legend says it was the Fates. The historians said it was the shift in our land masses.” She wet her lips. “The Council holds both as truth.”
Diana nodded, understanding the Council’s perception of Chance and Nature.
“The creatures of Aggar found themselves separated for a time. When they returned to the Spring of Life, they found themselves changed. At first, it did not matter. Their joy at reunion was great. Here — on these walls — you see that time of thanksgiving.
“There are other walls in other places, however.” Elana drew a shaking breath. “They are not so pleasant.
“After a time the differences did begin to matter. Some became greedy of their specialness and would not share their abilities. Some became covetous of what they could not do — or did not have. And quarrels began to break out. Tribes of likened bodies drew together and trading — hunting…,” she shuddered, “wars began.
“Gradually, the eitteh became the sole messengers between factions. The winged-cats would fly from place to place bringing news, and the men-cats would translate and placate — trading goods of one tribe with those of another… reminding each of common ground.
“In time, the humans became more clever with their hands and grew to despise counsel with the others. Others grew weary of unheard dialogues, turning inward more and more. Again, at each meeting, they would find themselves so changed that speech was less and less possible, until finally the fear of differences and dwindling resources banished the joy. Survival became the sole demand.
“Predators and prey became the way. Those bestial ancestors of humankind grew stronger as their ability to coerce and conquer others grew. Within their own kind, they began to separate, and one tribe rose that was never to be satisfied.
“In their greed, they sought out the eitteh, coveting its special intellect and flight. The eitteh — for so many generations the carrier of news, of barter — of bonding All into Oneness — still had the ability to understand the numerous others. Whether beast or bird or human, the eitteh could speak and sense meanings.
“It was the greed of that tribe which forced the eitteh to flee into the mountains for their freedom. When they stayed, they stayed as captives. The children of those forced joinings were not as blessed. Instead greed corrupted these descendants as it had corrupted their tribe, and, although they did indeed become half-man, half-beast, neither man or eitteh, the females were unable to fly, and communications were a mockery of the common tongue. Their speech became a conglomerate of all creatures’ sound, intelligible to none. They were ostracized; even after generations, they still only manage elemental contact with other peoples. But they have a perfect mimicry of many creatures’ tongues, although sense is poorly grasped.”
“The Changlings?”
The dark head nodded, and Elana looked into the empty palms of her hands. “Superstition also tells of their abilities to change their shape to match the sound of the animal they make. It is a myth they do not chose to deny, although in truth it is only the sounds they can change.”
“And the eitteh? Did they grow to distrust all men so much?”
“No.” Elana shook her head in adamant denial. “Others feared the Changlings would succeed, and with such abilities of flight, speech, and the beginnings of tool-making, they feared the Changling tribes would grow too strong and too greedy. Humankind feared they would then be conquered and enslaved, just as they wished to rule countless of other creatures. The Changlings were swift and crafty, and they could not easily be defeated. And so the tribes tried to destroy the eitteh, thinking that without breeding stock the Changlings would fail.”
Diana closed her eyes… to be the victim and hunted for that very victimization.
“So the eitteh fled. Only the very strongest, most savage of the men-cats could survive the constant battles and increasingly barren terrain of the mountains. For the most part, the winged-cats avoided the tribes and battles with their flight. They would bring food, scout and leave. But then they too became warriors, lest they lead the hunters to their mates. Yet gradually, their own males grew too barbarous for them, and they began to see less and less of them. Until eventually they evolved into an almost totally separatist society.”
Diana’s throat grew tight. The story was sounding cruelly familiar.
“All along the Changlings were growing less trusted, and the territories of the other tribes were growing more important to each for their own survival. Tools came. Borders were drawn. Distrust and greed mingled — this world is no different from so many others. Wars broke out — bitter, tribal-feuding — pure hatred spawning the fervor of real war. They had progressed past the petty, easily forgotten transgressions of earlier disputes. And from the icy tip of the Southern Continent across the deserts of the South, from the Plains of Ramains through the wastelands and timbered northern hills, deathwish of tribal furies reigned.”
Elana trembled. This legend was very real to her. The later-born eyes of Seers gifted with out-of-time Sight had piece together Aggar’s tragedy bit-by-bit, until it was known. The apprentices of the Keep had been tutored under that Blue Sight — passing on the history with such a vividness that none would ever forget.
In this place of forgotten artists and of dancing flames, Diana felt the loss of that once joyous unity. The blue touch of Elana’s past — the past of her people — echoed mournfully through the empty cavern, and Diana knew the lesson as from a Seer.
“There were a handful of men and women in the White Stone Isles of Fire — the archipelagoes. They had little others could want, save safety from wars. Isolation produced differences once again. But this time, it bore those of mercy — those who remembered the Spring, and the first Blue Sight was born.
“It was many, many generations later that the Council finally formed, traveling to settle more centrally — choosing their place well for defense but never seeking to lash out. Not concerned with just one tribe — those of compassion with those of the Sight came to watch over Aggar. Their hands began to bring peace. Tribes grew less frantic over territories as the lands calmed under the Seers’ touch and the Council’s guidance. The mountains of the northwest became the Firecaps, while others — such as these ahead — ceased to explode and became dormant, sheltering walls. Floods and earth-wrenching storms quieted. The people grew to like this peace, and the Council encouraged trade over raiding. Then slowly, the balance grew, continues to grow — as the Council’s watch goes on.”
“In every life — on every planet,” Diana said slowly, “there is much wasted. But perhaps Aggar is not as lost as many worlds.”
“We almost destroyed ourselves. Then we remembered to find our place in the Mother’s scheme. We are learning again to value that ideal of unity. Someday, perhaps, we will do both — think and value life.”
Diana savored the beauty of the dark-haired woman before her and remembered the specialness of her being… that subtle meshing of both Wisdom and Sight. The magic drew her, and very softly, she kissed the cool smoothness of Elana’s lips.
Blue eyes fluttered open as Diana withdrew, and Elana gazed at her, perplexed by the warmth and reassurance that her lover shared with her.
“Your people will do both. You are living proof that they will.”
“You are my people now,” Elana whispered and felt the tender love she held for this woman surge through her. “What we share,
none of my Sight have ever known on this world.”
“None of my Sisters have either.”
It didn’t matter how Di’nay spoke of her Sight. It didn’t matter that this woman had not grasped how differently she treasured Elana’s specialness or the freedom Elana had discovered under that unaccustomed acceptance. Nothing matters, Elana thought, if only she will look at me this way until the end of our time together.
Beneath the loving, brown gaze Elana drew near, seeking her lover’s gentle mouth. Hands were soft and bodies warmed, and she knew the cherished touch of their loving again.
† † †
Diana finished spoon-feeding Garrison and sighed. He was so helpless she couldn’t help but pity him. Brushing hair from unseeing eyes, she said in Common, “Just one more day, Lieutenant. Goddess willing, you’ll be free of this madness.”
Or at least, she thought, standing and returning to the fire, he would be as free as the rest of them. He would be able to run and think and maybe even wield a weapon. Consciousness was necessary if he was to have a fighting chance of seeing the base again. Eventually, there would be a confrontation, and his only way to survive it was to be able to outrun or outfight them with Elana and herself. But Elana thought his mind must be protected until they were beyond the reach of the Maltar’s Seer.
Slowly she finished washing the cookery and closing the packs. But her mind was on her absent companion, and worrying, Diana returned again and again to the mouth of the cave; her eyes searched for some sign of Elana’s return. She did not know how long the woman had been gone.
When Diana had awakened, the first light of daybreak was appearing, but breakfast had already been prepared and was left warming near the fire. The Blue Sight had kept her from waking to the sounds of the cooking, Diana knew. It was a habit Elana had taken on early in their journey. Now it was not comforting, however. Since her imprisonment, Elana had not risen so early, and Diana fretted that she had caused some rift — some mistrust between them last night.
Time to heal, Elana had asked for — only the other night, and she had carelessly forgotten her lover’s request. Their loving had been slow, unhurried… undirected; their closeness had been the only goal guiding them. She did not doubt the yielding softness nor the stirring caresses that Elana had shared. But even the gentlest of stroking could bring the harshest of memories forth by sheer comparison. Diana worried this morning’s light had brought such images to Elana.
It was an added fear… as if the threats of the Maltar’s scouts and neighboring Changlings were not enough.
A shadow caught her eye and she jumped, startled, to find Elana standing motionless just inside the cave.
“You are angry…?” In a shocked whisper, Elana’s words could barely be heard.
“No!” Diana gasped — realizing her anxiety had become overwhelming. “No. Frightened! I did not know where you were. I — ”
Her breath drew in again, and unsteadily Elana moved forward. She dropped her crossbow and shrugged off her cloak, still shaken by the intensity of their meeting. With a hand to her head she concentrated a moment, then straightened. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I hoped to be back sooner. Forgive me.”
“You’re back — that’s all that matters. Are you all right?”
Elana nodded wearily and came to Di’nay, wrapping her arms around the pensive woman. A strong grasp gathered her near, and Elana buried her face in the soft jerkin with a sigh.
“I was afraid something happened because of last night,” Diana confessed.
“No.” Elana shook her head and hugged tightly, feeling the fear of her beloved’s amarin. “Last night was beautiful. Nothing was wrong with it.”
Diana pulled away a little. “Yet something has happened.”
“I’ve been scouting for the Path.” She moved away, reaching for a waterskin. “This morning when I was down at the stream, I saw a messenger hawk above. I thought its errand might concern us, so I brought it down and confiscated its note before letting it continue on. I glimpsed its home roost.
“The message itself didn’t concern us, but the bird was from a Changling’s roost. Apparently its keeper coordinates supply shipments for the miners of the Wayward Path.”
“Melysa was wrong then,” Diana saw suddenly. “They have had time to shift to a new entrance.”
Elana nodded, pausing to drink. She sat down as Di’nay came to kneel beside her in concern. “I am all right,” Elana assured her quickly. “I’m just not as strong yet as I would like to be.”
With a gentle finger Diana traced the faint rash of the friction burn on Elana’s cheek. “Take your time.”
She smiled wryly. “We do not have much of that, Di’nay. The bird was released not far from here, and it gave me a clear image of the place, so I went looking for it. We were very lucky last night that we stopped so early. Another two leagues and we would have crossed their camp.”
Puzzled, Diana said, “I don’t understand. The mountains are a good six or seven leagues out yet.”
“The original dwellers of this cave lived in a labyrinth of tunnels between here and the mountains. The Changlings have stumbled across one which leads to the heart of the Path. They have found the richest vein of stones since their grandfathers’ era, because this route leads them so deeply. It may also save us from going twenty to twenty-five leagues out of our way.”
“You did not learn all of this from a bird,” Diana challenged softly.
Shivering, Elana remembered the man-like beast that had fallen with her bolt. “I found their encampment. I chose a poor place to watch from. The Changling literally stumbled over me… there was — ” she broke off, realizing she was about to make excuses. That wasn’t right. It had become necessary — for survival… to protect Di’nay… to elude capture and a return to prisons and cruel hands.
“I panicked, I think,” Elana admitted, finally. “Rationally, I know it was — it might have been necessary. But… I don’t know. Just the thought of being taken again — ”
“No,” arms enclosed her and Diana held her fiercely, “it’s all right. You did what needed to be done.”
“He was a hunter… he will not be missed until darkfall,” she mumbled almost incoherently. With a shuddering breath Elana clung to Di’nay then, fighting back a myriad of nightmares. The Amazon’s strength surrounded her, keeping her safe. Still her voice wavered as Elana opened her eyes again. “I am so tired of death — and fear, Di’nay. I have never been afraid before… not like this.”
Diana nodded, stroking her dark braided hair. “You’re not alone,” she murmured. “Dearest Elana, you’re not alone. I know it’s frightening.”
“Oh, Mother!” Elana straightened suddenly, her eyes filled with alarm. “This entrance, Di’nay — it is leagues through the sandstone and bedrock before the Path proper is reached.”
Black, dense tunnels, Diana realized. Her mouth grew grim. It appeared to be a day for confrontations.
Elana shivered as the amarin rose about Di’nay, and slowly, with more vigor, she shook her head in denial. “No — Di’nay, no! I cannot take you into—”
“Yes.” Diana’s voice was firm, and she met Elana’s eyes fully. “You take me nowhere. I choose to go.”
† † †
It was evident why the Changlings were considered neither human nor animal, Diana thought. These half-people were slightly built; not one of them stood as high as four feet. They walked upright. Their mottled hide was as short-furred as any cat’s and yet their movements were neither cat-like nor man-like, just odd.
Diana watched them closely as they moved between the camp and the mine, wondering how much more of their oddness was cloaked by the loose-fitted tunics and breeches. No boots, she noted, and then finally identified the strangeness of their motion. They stopped and paused frequently, as if to test the air for scent — or listen to the sudden whisper of a breeze. These creatures checked themselves in task… in walk — in everything they did. For a brief instant th
eir attention was interrupted. And then, they would return to their work.
The battle of instinct and intellect — poorly combined, Diana mused and watched as a cinnamon-and-bronze creature paused, lifting its black, flattened nose to the breeze. Fur-tufted ears flickered against the side of its head; a black-nailed hand, raised palm opened. The distraction identified, the eyes looked to the path again and the creature resumed its walk.
“They are not as strong as humans,” Elana whispered.
They were crouched in a rocky alcove about two hundred feet from the camp. There were twenty or thirty miners housed in the area, judging by the size of their compound.
“Ann, there is some reason they are so feared by the humans,” Diana prodded quietly. “If it is not their strength, what then?”
“Their speed and cunning can be deadly. And they are united across the wastelands by their common shape, although as kin they have little real love for one another. They need few excuses to revenge even an imagined injury done to one of their kind by any human. And too, their eyesight is uncanny. Their ability with slingshots and long bows are dangerous threats. The strength of a man’s sword arm is little help, if one is not close enough for combat.”
Diana nodded, noticing again how the creatures stopped to test the air. “How sensitive are they to human scent?”
“They track very poorly,” Elana assured her. “Fresh scents carried on the wind are the most accessible to them, but they are neither men-cat nor hunting cat. They cannot follow one scent imposed on another. They track by sight just as men do.”
“There is no hope of winning passage from them by negotiation?” Diana ask rather wistfully.
“They will have been informed that the Maltar will pay well for our capture. No doubt that was part of the mission of those you fought. Our only if unlikely hope if they were to capture us is that they might go first to the Council for a better price.”
Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar) Page 42