Plik had provided good likenesses of both the emblem and the two figurines, and so the actual items did not need to be brought out. Their hosts were eager to be of assistance, but could rarely help them beyond eliminating their own city-state.
So it went until the expedition arrived in Gak. Gak had been named by a doctor who had been particularly influential in the post-Plague years. It was a prosperous city-state, somewhat larger than usual, and rather more to the west than many to which Truth had guided them to this point.
The Iron Mountains - or a kindred range - began farther west throughout southern lands than they did in Derian's homeland, but as in Hawk Haven, the mountain range provided the boundary between "civilization" and wilderness. However, here there was no danger of humanity pressing that unofficial border. Gak was prosperous compared to her city-state neighbors, but there was ample room for growth.
Gak proved more ethnically mixed than any land they encountered to this point, and for once Derian did not ad his red hair and relatively pale skin drawing attention. Although the local language was close to Liglimosh, Derian caught fascinating echoes of what he was sure Pellish, and what he was almost sure was the language spoken in Waterland.
Their host that night was Amiri, a garrulous aridisdu. Over a lengthy banquet, she and several others among the local disdum sought to offer some explanation for the local mixture of cultures and racial types.
"Gak was a prosperous land even before Divine Retribution," Amiri said. "Because the Old World rulers sought to flee the disease by returning to their homelands, they went east. In turn, those who had no wish to be enslaved to the demands of this sudden exodus fled west."
"Enslaved?" Derian asked.
"Enslaved," a kidisdu replied. "There were not fleets enough to carry the rulers and their goods back to the Old World. I don't know how it was in your homeland, but here those who were still strong enough to travel moved to the coast in a great body. They didn't care about anything but getting away, and many a private person found himself a slave or worse."
Amiri took up the tale. "Gak attracted a good number of these refugees. We were far from the coast, and the Old Country rulers had either died or departed as soon as they felt the hand of Divine Retribution upon them.
Refugees were offered citizenship on the condition that they agree to take up arms to defend the land against invasion. Our earliest government was a militia of sorts. Today, we are a republic rather than a monarchy such as Bright Haven or theocracy like Liglim. Each clan sends a representative to our standing senate. The leaders of the senate are an elected triumvirate, each of which holds office for..."
Amiri smiled, pushing back fair hair from a high tore-head. "But you do not care about our local political arrangements, no matter that we are very proud of them. They have enabled us to stand united, in contrast to some of our neighbors who are constantly at war over issues of race or religion."
"I am very interested," Harjeedian said. "But," he went on with evident reluctance, "I am also a servant of my duty. We are seeking information about a pair of people we have reason to believe live in one of the city-states, probably in one that, like your own, shows some influence from the culture of Liglim."
"The influence is here," Amiri agreed, "but unlike in Liglim, you will not find our religious tradition the only one - or even the dominant one. This close to the mountains, the yarimaimalom have never needed to make truces with humans. Some come - I rather think as missionaries - to serve our needs, but there are wild ones we never see and ..."
She lowered her voice and looked uncomfortable. "And who I fear do not share our faith."
Harjeedian made a gesture indicating she should be at ease. "Once that would have startled me more than it does now. Contact with the lands to the north has meant realizing that not all peoples are as fortunate as we in..." He stopped in midphrase. Obviously, what he had been about to say would have been less than completely polite. Derian waved a hand at him. "Don't worry. I won't take offense. Someday our land's different ways of interpreting what you would call divine will may be a problem, for now I'm willing to accept that you have your way and we have ours."
Amiri looked at him with interest. "Are all your people so tolerant?"
"Probably not," Derian admitted, "but our region contains numerous individual nations, many of which encompass larger populations and land areas than all I've seen of the city-states. It's a rare child who doesn't learn that there are people with other ways - and in any case, each family has its own ancestors and they're no better or worse than the ancestors of their neighbors. Maybe that does lead to a certain degree of tolerance."
"I think we could talk on these matters for days," Amiri said, and those of the local disdum who had joined themfor the meal made sounds of agreement. "However, I sincerely doubt that your yarimaimalom companions would tolerate such delay. You said you seek two people. Do you have names for them?"
Harjeedian shook his head. "No names, but we do have may be a family emblem - or perhaps one associated with a particular church or clan. It is very little to go on, but Truth has given omens that this manner of searching is according to the divine will, and so we follow it."
"And you?" Amiri asked Derian, her gaze shrewd. "Do you also follow the divine will?"
"Not quite," Derian admitted. "It's more like I follow of Firekeeper."
"The woman you introduced us to earlier," Amiri said, the one who seems a rather peculiar form of kidisdu."
"That's as good an explanation as any," Derian said. "we have time before we leave, I'll tell you something of her history. For now, let's leave it at this. She was raised - really - from when she was a very young child somewhat over four years ago by a pack of Wise Wolves. She is closer to the yarimaimalom than to most is, and when Truth became obsessed with finding people, Firekeeper agreed to help." Amiri's eyes widened, but she dutifully kept to the task at hand. "Can you show us the emblem at least?"
"I brought a copy," Harjeedian said, pulling out one of Plik's drawings preserved in a leather wallet. "This is the ablem. This is the style of dress worn by the people."
Their audience, here as in the other city-states, were members of the disdum. They didn't ask how Harjeedian had learned these things. Doubtless they assumed that he had communicated with Truth through the elaborate divinatory methods their mutual ancestors had relied upon since before coming to the New World.
"The form of attire is certainly one worn in Gak," Amiri said. "The emblem is not one I personally know..."
She looked at her associates.
One, a very young kidisdu, hardly more than a girl, said hesitantly, "I think... I've seen it. I don't know where, though, and I could be wrong."
"Please continue," Harjeedian said, seeing the child was embarrassed at the thought she was speaking out of turn. "Even if you are wrong, we would like to hear what you have to say."
"I only just entered the disdum," the girl said. She somewhat resembled the Liglimom, but was more fair of skin and her eyes held flecks of green, "and until a few moonspans past I lived in my parents' house. My mother remains active in the affairs of her birth clan - our family clan."
Derian bit his tongue to keep from asking how it was decided to which clan children of a union belonged. That was almost certainly not germane to the matter at hand.
"Last triumvirate term, my mother was clan representative to the senate," the girl said.
Her expression flitted between pride in her mother's achievement and embarrassment that she might be thought bragging about what must seem a minor achievement to two such great men. Derian didn't know whether he wanted to pat her on the head or throttle her.
"There was a great fuss over some people who wanted to use an emblem that they claimed had historical basis. I think it was that very emblem. I don't know why there was a great fuss."
She gasped a little, flushed, and abruptly stopped.
"Thank you, Petulia," Amiri said. "Now that you mention the matter, I believe
I recall it myself. Being of the disdum, I have never been my family's senatorial representative..."
Harjeedian made an odd, inquiring sound, and Amiri interrupted herself.
"It was part of the contract established when Gak surged the departure of the Old World rulers," she explained. "We had refugees who practiced many different religions. Rather than attempting to establish one - and doubtless falling into civil war - all religions were permitted to remain, but with the restriction that no one who was of the established hierarchy of a religion could be a representative."
Harjeedian frowned. "Doesn't that mean that you are ruled by those of least faith?"
"Some have argued so," Amiri said, "but the arrangement has worked for a century. We let the arguments continue."
Harjeedian drew his lips into a thin, tight line, but he has the good political sense not to argue. Amiri, pretending as if there wasn't the least tension, returned to the matter of the emblem.
"Petulia, I believe that the issue wasn't merely that these people wished to use the emblem, but that they claimed the right to establish - or reestablish - a clan. They claimed that the clan had existed at the time when contract was formed, and therefore its rights should s respected."
Derian had not spent the better part of the last four or so years involved in the political intrigues of at least four different nations without learning a thing or two.
"You said that representation in your governing senate was based upon clans," he said. "Effectively, these people were asking for the creation of a new vote. I can see how that wouldn't thrill those who already had the vote."
Amiri nodded. "The matter becomes even more complicated, for if a newIold clan is created based on claims of prior, heretofore unrecognized residence, what is to keep other people from deciding to try the same gambit?
The representatives could find themselves doing nothing but reviewing such claims - and the waste of their time would be the least of the problems to come from that."
The kidisdu who had answered Derian's question about slavery now spoke up. "I assume, however, that since we are not amid a cyclone of new clan requests, these people's request was not granted. Even so, it should be easy enough to learn their name. Petulia, is your mother currently in the city?"
The girl bobbed her head in the shyest of nods.
"Then we will send her a message and see if she will entertain our distinguished foreign visitors." He looked over at Derian and Harjeedian. "How soon would you like to speak with her?"
"As soon as is reasonable," Harjeedian replied. "Although Counselor Derian and I would be more than happy to spend several days in your fine city, our yarimaimalom companions are evincing a certain impatience."
As is Firekeeper, Derian thought, swallowing a grin since he was certain that this was what Harjeedian was thinking, but was too diplomatic to state.
"And impatient yarimaimalom, especially those with fangs and claws ..." Amiri said.
"Don't underestimate hooves," Derian said, laughing, "or the beaks of ravens."
Amiri laughed with him, then sobered. "We would like to ask a favor of the yarimaimalom. This isn't a condition for our aid - that you will have. However, as I mentioned earlier, the yarimaimalom who share our faith are not as common here. Might you ask your companions if the omens favor their spending some time with us, even if only those hours you will be spending speaking with Petulia's mother?"
Harjeedian nodded, and any pique he might have felt at learning that in Gak the disdum were barred from being governmental representatives was clearly appeased.
"I would gladly do this, Aridisdum Amiri. I cannot answer in advance, but I am hopeful that at least one of our companions would agree to spend time with you."
Amiri looked very pleased at this. "Any time of the day or night," she said. "We always have someone standing vigil."
"I will tell them this," Harjeedian said.
The meal drew to a close, and after a final sweet course, Derian and Harjeedian took their leave.
"We have news," Derian explained, "after days upon days of having no news at all. We must share it with our companions."
"We cannot trouble Petulia's mother tonight," Amiri said, "but I will send a messenger tomorrow as early as is polite. Wait in your camp and someone will come to tell you if she will see you. I firmly expect she will."
I bet she will, Derian thought, out of curiosity if nothing else.
FIREKEEPER WAS WILD WITH JOY when Derian and Harjeedian returned with the news that they might have found the source of the mysterious emblem.
Even Derian's caution that this might prove to be a dead end could not reduce her pleasure. Blind Seer agreed.
"I feel so certain this will not be another cold, dead trail," he said, "that maybe I should take over reading omens for Truth. Do you think I should go to the temple tonight and offer my skills? "
In reply, Firekeeper booted him in the ribs. "Whatever we think, dear heart, these people take their omens seriously. Do not tease them as Rascal would one of the pups."
"I know they are serious," Blind Seer replied. "Ask them if we could attend the meeting with Petulia's mother tomorrow. I would hear for myself what she says about these people who would make a pack from old bones and pictures."
Firekeeper passed on the request, and Harjeedian seemed pleased rather than otherwise at their interest.
"Certainly," he said.
He looked over at Truth. The jaguar had been asleep on the plushest of the rugs, her upper body gracefully draped over an embroidered pillow. When Firekeeper had relayed Blind Seer's request, her burnt-orange eyes had opened.
"Do you also wish to attend?" Harjeedian asked her.
In reply, Truth rose and stretched.
"Tell him," she said lazily to Firekeeper, "that I would like to attend, and that I go now to grace the temple with my glorious presence."
Firekeeper was tempted not to translate, but she knew that if she did not, the unpleasant task would be left to Plik. From time to time she had sensed that for all his cheerful, even jolly, manner, the maimalodalu was finding his extended exile from his place and people hard.
And why should he not? she thought. When I left my pack, at least I had Blind Seer with me. Plik has no one but us.
When Truth departed, Bitter rose from where he was perched beside Loveable in a tangled tree. He gave a hoarse squawk that needed no translation. Then he took wing.
"And," Harjeedian commented, "I believe Eshinarvash will grant them a visit come morning. The faithful will find themselves well rewarded for their hospitality."
PETULIA THE KIDISDU CAME TO THE RIVER MEADOW the next morning, and Firekeeper padded out to meet her. Plik had been enjoying a little time free of clothing, and the wolf-woman saw no reason he should not continue as nature had made him.
"You disdu?" Firekeeper said. "Welcome. I am Firekeeper. This is Blind Seer."
Petulia bobbed the local equivalent of a bow, and tried to stammer out a few words. Immediately Firekeeper remembered how very shy Derian had said the girl was.
"Your mother? She will see us? You very kind. I get Harjeedian, Derian, and Truth. We come with you."
While the two humans readied themselves, Firekeeper brought Petulia a tin mug of water and some sweet confection they had purchased in the last city-state.
"For you," Firekeeper said, hoping her sincere desire to put the girl at ease would make up for her own lack of social graces. "It tastes like apple blossoms and honey"
Petulia peered up through her lashes and accepted the gift. Firekeeper could hardly hear her whispered thanks. The others arrived not long after, saving Firekeeper from having to make any more social overtures. Petulia immediately started leading the way through the twisting streets, moving so quickly that Firekeeper knew Harjeedian at least was pressed to keep his dignity.
"Does she fear you and Truth?" Firekeeper asked Blind Seer.
"I smell no one special fear," Blind Seer replied. "I think this little one h
as afield mouse's heart. It beats too fast."
Firekeeper was no great judge of human habitations, but she thought that Petulia's family was certainly not poor. The house to which they were guided was beautifully maintained, the timber portions freshly painted, the areas between (they looked as if they were made of mud, rather like swallow's nests) tightly chinked and sealed with the same paint.
The door was opened by a woman who exuded confidence as Truth did arrogance. Unlike her daughter, she was purely of the Liglimom type, with shining dark hair and earth brown eyes. Firekeeper wondered what the rather looked like to make Petulia.
"Welcome to our home," the woman said. "I am Layozirate, Petulia's mother. Please call me Layo."
She motioned all of them in, Petulia included, but the girl said softly, "I must report back to the temple, Mother."
Layo bent and kissed the girl on her forehead, right at the part of her hair. "Go, little mouse. Be happy."
"I told you she was a mouse," Blind Seer said, "though I am surprised that her mother would admit what she mated with."
Firekeeper thumped him gently between the shoulders, but kept her formal manners. This woman Layo seemed to demand them, although she had spoken very few words.
Layo guided them to a spacious courtyard ornamented with a fountain and a small pool. Chairs had been set for the humans, rugs spread for the yarimaimalom. Although a chair had been supplied for Firekeeper, she settled herself on the rug while Blind Seer luxuriated on the cool dampness of the paving stones nearest to the water. Layo was indeed a diplomat, for she did not comment even with the raising of her finely arched brows.
"Aridisdu Amiri," she said, when greetings had been exchanged, and refreshments offered all around, "sent me a long letter explaining the reason for your coming. May I see tins emblem? She described it and made a copy from memory, but I wish to be certain."
Harjeedian extended his wallet, and Layo studied it. Rather than reply with words, she turned to a table set near her side and extended a folder of her own. At the top of the papers heaped within was one bearing the very same emblem.
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