The Cry of the Marwing

by Unknown

  The tension in the room dissipated like a sigh and, as Kira stood, the councillors stood also, and bowed as one. Kira bowed and made her way unsteadily to the door, vaguely aware that the babe was now quiet.

  Tierken jumped to his feet as she appeared but she turned to Tresen instead, embraced him and kissed him on each cheek.

  ‘I congratulate you and wish you well, Tremen Leader Tresen,’ she said softly. Next she turned to Kest, embracing and kissing him also. ‘I thank you for our time of working together in the care of the Tremen people, Protector Commander Kest,’ she said.

  Tierken’s eyes burned into hers but, aware of Tresen and Kest’s presence, she simply nodded to him as he followed Tresen and Kest into the clancouncil, then made her way down the hall, and out the large double doors at the end. It was sheltered and sunny on the step outside, and with a sigh she lowered herself down, balancing the awkward lump of her belly. Springleslips gave voice, and as leaves whispered in a small breeze, she shut her eyes and breathed in the fragrant air.

  Then the door opened again and someone settled beside her.

  ‘So, you’ve given up the leadership?’ Laryia’s voice asked.

  Kira nodded.

  ‘What do you intend to do now?’

  ‘Sit here and enjoy the sun,’ said Kira, keeping her eyes closed.

  It wasn’t what Laryia wanted to know, but the answer seemed curiously apt. For the first time since the Shargh had found them, Kira felt she could simply sit and be at peace.

  ‘I think you should make Tierken happy by going back to Sarnia with him,’ said Laryia.

  ‘Those two things might not be the same,’ said Kira, reluctantly opening her eyes.

  ‘They are for him – despite everything,’ said Laryia.

  Kira kept her gaze on a group of noisy tippets. If Kandor’s or Lern’s or even Merek’s happiness were at stake, she’d be acting exactly the same way as Laryia, she mused. Silence stretched, then the tippets abandoned their quarrel as the crash of people running sounded from the trees.

  It was Anvorn with a patrolman Kira didn’t know, and she struggled to her feet even as Anvorn saw her and swerved in her direction.

  ‘We need your help urgently, Lady,’ he panted. ‘A tree’s come down on a Tremen.’

  ‘I’ll fetch Tresen,’ said Laryia, scrambling upright too.

  ‘No – we need someone who can take pain,’ broke in Anvorn. ‘We can’t get the tree off him in his present state.’

  ‘Wait,’ Kira ordered Anvorn, and hastened back into the hall, Laryia at her elbow.

  ‘You can’t take pain,’ said Laryia, alarmed. ‘Not when you’re carrying.’

  Kira rushed to her room and scooped up her pack but Laryia seized her arm. ‘You can’t risk yourself like this!’ she exclaimed.

  Kira shrugged her off and hurried back to where Anvorn waited.

  ‘Kira!’ screamed Laryia, but she had already disappeared into the trees.

  65

  Anvorn kept a firm grip on Kira’s arm to ensure she didn’t slip as they hurried through the forest. They were going southeast, Kira noticed with a sinking heart.

  ‘The injured man’s Kashclan?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I beg your pardon, Lady, but your people all look the same to me. The Tremen who found us came from further north. They wait ahead.’

  Sherclan perhaps, thought Kira, then felt guilty at her sense of relief. They were Sherclan, she saw, as a group of agitated men emerged from the trees, dressed finely for Thanking.

  ‘Thank the ’green!’ one exclaimed as he saw them. ‘It’s not far from here, Tremen Leader. We were on the way to the Bough in preparation for Thanking. Sener wanted to get there early, as Clan-leader Dakresh frets without him.’

  ‘Sener?’ gasped Kira. ‘He’s not the injured man, is he?’

  ‘Indeed he is, Leader. An ill wind seems to blow on that line,’ he added under his breath.

  They went on, and a short time later, the stench hanging in the air was unmistakable.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Anvorn, grimacing.

  ‘Heart-rot,’ said Kira. ‘It’s a decay that eats away the inside of a tree. You can’t tell it’s there till the tree comes down.’

  ‘Give me fanchon any day,’ muttered Anvorn, as Kira saw Sener and hastened forward.

  Another step and the bole would have missed Sener completely, Kira saw as she knelt beside him. But it had smashed one of his legs, and now pinned the crushed flesh to the ground. Sener’s breathing was shallow and his face clammy, but his clanmates hadn’t been idle, having wedged branches under the bole to take as much weight off him as possible, and constructed a carrier, ready to transport Sener to the Bough.

  Kira wrenched open Sener’s intricately patterned shirt and brought her hands down over his heart. The burning in the tunnel had lost none of its ferocity, but even as it seared her, she sensed another place, safely closed off, and floating within it was her son. Then Kira was back in the forest, nauseated as usual, sweating and trembling, but enveloped in a sense of wonder.

  It calmed her as she watched the men heave the tree off Sener and drag him free, and stayed with her as she laboriously guided his fractured bones back into place, splinted and bound his leg, then walked beside him as he was borne to the Bough. It even survived Tierken’s furious face appearing at her shoulder in the hall.

  Tresen supervised Sener being shifted to a pallet, and fortunately Laryia was taken up with comforting Dakresh, so only Tierken followed as she threaded her way through the early arrivals for Thanking to her room. The door banged shut behind them and Tierken’s tirade started – much of which consisted of his earlier prohibition on her taking pain, her selfishness in risking the babe and her complete disregard for her own safety.

  Kira sat on the bed, still filled with the astonishing joy of having seen her son. It was a strange gift in recompense for the terrible burning of taking pain, but a gift it was. Tierken had finished his outburst but still strode up and down, taking out his anger on the floor. Kira knew that it stemmed from his fear of losing her, and that his need for certainty would continue to taint their time together.

  ‘This is why I left it up to you,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ he demanded, swinging back to her.

  ‘The decision as to whether it’s me you really want – this is why I left it up to you. I’m a Healer, Tierken, and that’s not going to change. Neither is the fact that I am Tremen, nor the fact that I’ll never be your wife.’

  There was a knock and Tenerini’s voice sounded. ‘I’ve come to dress your hair, Kira, and help you prepare,’ she called. ‘It’s getting late.’

  Kira struggled off the bed and opened the door. With a brief nod to Tenerini, Tierken strode out.

  There were already a considerable number of Tremen in the hall, chatting to each other as they sipped ale or tea, but they hushed as they saw him, their conversations picking up only after he’d passed.

  Still fuming, Tierken went swiftly on towards the doors, aware of the whispers and covert stares that followed him. At least no one had spat at him – yet, he thought grimly. He had reached the end of the hall when the door to the Haelen opened and Clanleader Dakresh tottered out in front of him. In the room beyond, Tierken glimpsed Tresen bent over the man on the pallet.

  Dakresh was the last person Tierken was in the mood to deal courteously with. He had been the least amenable of the Clanleaders in the council earlier that day, causing the meeting to drag on twice as long as it should have. Tierken’s proposals as to how the Terak–Tremen unification was to be continued and strengthened had otherwise been well received, the way smoothed by Kest’s considerable eloquence. The Commander Protector had a pragmatism which was almost Terak in quality, but Tierken knew Kest’s desire to build a relationship with Sarnia was also motivated by his sister’s forthcoming bonding to patrolman Anvorn.

  Tierken nodded to Dakresh and tried to pass on, but Dakresh’s gnarled hand fastened on his wrist
.

  ‘Northern Feailner,’ he whispered, his voice so strained that Tierken had to stoop to hear him.

  Dakresh had looked old at the council, but now he looked as if the life had been bled out of him and Tierken was shocked at the change.

  ‘I thank your bondmate,’ said Dakresh, his watery eyes piercing Tierken. ‘I thank her for the life of my son,’ he repeated, his bony fingers shaking on Tierken’s wrist.

  ‘I will tell her,’ said Tierken.

  Dakresh shambled away but Tierken remained fixed to the spot. Tremen swirled around him, clad in the greens and browns of the forest, while above, the green-swathed beams replicated the canopy outside. He stood in the Bough, in the centre of the place created by a man who’d sacrificed everything for healing, and yet it was only now that Tierken at last comprehended what it meant. And as the full implications of his understanding washed over him, Tierken closed his eyes and groaned.

  66

  The hall was full and the players ready to start the music before Kira emerged from her room. Tenerini had spent much time braiding her hair and setting it with tree-gems, then helped Kira into the tunic and breeches before pronouncing her ‘lovely’. Given that neither Tenerini nor Miken were given to empty praise, Kira was confident that she did indeed look well.

  And she was determined to enjoy herself, despite renewed uncertainty over Tierken’s intentions. She was among her people again, the fighting was finished, and the burden of leadership gone. And she’d been gifted with the sight of her beautiful son. There was no reason not to be happy, especially as she had taken the precaution of requesting the music-makers not play The Parting. For even now she didn’t trust that Kandor’s last song wouldn’t send her fleeing from the fiery terror of that time.

  Kira moved around the hall, accepting thanks for her leadership and congratulations on her carrying, older women stroking her belly and speculating on the sex of the babe. No one asked her whether she intended to stay in Allogrenia and all mention of the northern Feailner was studiously avoided. Tierken was nowhere to be seen in any case, and given his mood earlier Kira suspected that he might not attend Thanking at all.

  The music started and Kira had the first dance with Tresen, an acknowledgement of the old Leader by the new, as well as a gesture of affection between clanmates. Tresen didn’t ask where Tierken was either, but Kest, who danced with her next, did.

  ‘Most likely readying his men for his departure,’ replied Kira.

  ‘I’m disappointed you’re not wearing the owl I gifted you,’ he said. ‘I hope the Lord Caledon gave it back to you before he left.’

  ‘It’s safe,’ said Kira, a bland smile masking her realisation that Caledon hadn’t, indeed, returned the owl. She had given it to him as proof of her trust in him to show the Tremen, when Caledon had sought Tremen volunteers for the fighting. Recalling Caledon’s last words to her, Kira was glad it remained in his keeping.

  ‘So the northern Feailner intends to depart on the morrow,’ continued Kest. ‘And what do you intend?’

  ‘When you carry, Protector Commander, it’s the babe’s intentions that take precedence,’ she said lightly.

  ‘So, what does the babe intend? To be born in Allogrenia or in Sarnia?’ said Kest, not put off.

  ‘You’ll have to ask the babe,’ said Kira, with another smile.

  ‘I might just do that,’ said Kest. ‘And while we’re in conversation, I will seek to persuade it of the benefits of living its life beneath the trees.’

  Kest’s intense blue eyes held hers, but then the dance came to an end and Kira excused herself and went to the table to get a cup of sweetened water. She wanted to escape his interrogation but also needed to settle her belly, still feeling a little nauseated from her earlier taking of pain. She sipped the water slowly and then the nearby conversations died and she looked up to see Tierken making his way through the crowd towards her.

  He was dressed in the Domain black and silver, the colours and glint of metal shocking among the sea of forest dyes.

  ‘I was wondering if you’d come,’ she said, as the talk around them slowly picked up again.

  ‘I wouldn’t absent myself from such an important Tremen celebration,’ he said. ‘But I beg your pardon for being so late. I needed to ensure that all was in readiness for the morrow.’

  ‘I’m surprised you found room in your pack for such clothing,’ said Kira. ‘You certainly stand out.’

  ‘Like you, I’ve never been able to blend into a gathering,’ he said with a smile.

  The music started again and they moved to the side of the hall as dancing couples formed.

  ‘Do you realise we’ve never danced together?’ he said after a little.

  ‘Perhaps because we’ve never been in accord, like the dwinhir that has yet to settle on a mate.’

  ‘Ah, you remember our conversation at the Tiar Lookround. And do you think, Kiraon of Kashclan, that we will ever be ready to dance?’

  His tone was bantering but his eyes burned into hers.

  ‘No,’ said Kira honestly.

  ‘I said at the Tiar Lookround that the dance wasn’t over with. I still believe that.’

  ‘As you leave on the morrow, its end must be close,’ murmured Kira, unable to meet his eyes.

  ‘I saw Clanleader Dakresh earlier. He wishes me to pass on his thanks for the aid you rendered,’ said Tierken. ‘He seemed badly shaken by the accident.’

  ‘His younger son was killed by the Shargh,’ said Kira. ‘But about Sener – I need to tell you that when I took his pain, our babe was quite safe.’

  ‘And you know such a thing because you’re a Healer?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Kira, taken aback by his lack of anger or argument. ‘I –’ she began, but then the music came to an end and people started to move towards the top of the hall.

  ‘What’s happening now?’ asked Tierken.

  ‘The bonding ceremonies are about to begin.’

  ‘Come, then,’ said Tierken, catching her hand.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d want to see them,’ she said, as the crowd parted to allow them through.

  ‘Of course I want to see them,’ said Tierken, his gaze on Tresen, who had taken up his position on the players’ platform with Laryia by his side.

  Kira stared at Tierken, surprised that he looked genuinely interested in both Tresen’s speech and what was about to unfold. Relaxing a little, she looked over at the waiting couples.

  There were actually eight couples intending to bond, in addition to Kesilini and Anvorn, and the Barclanswoman with her Terak patrolman. They looked excited or apprehensive, but none of them looked doubtful. Kira thought of her own bonding in the shelter-hut and of Tierken’s confession as to his motives, and her eyes pricked.

  Kest stood to her left, intent on his sister, and Kira could feel his tension. She guessed that Kest was upset because Kesilini was to leave Allogrenia, and she resolved to make time later to reassure him that there were Tremen already in Sarnia who would provide company and friendship for his sister.

  The bonding ceremonies began, and Kira cheered and clapped with the rest of the gathering, caught up in the happiness of the moment. The Tremen bondings were completed first, then the Barclanswoman – Sharini – bonded with Terak patrolman Thoren. Thoren completed his part of the ceremony smoothly, obviously having been well schooled in its requirements, and then Kesilini and Anvorn stepped forward.

  Anvorn likewise finished his part of the ceremony without stumbling, but Kesilini was far more emotional. No doubt she remembered her first bonding to Merek, as did Kira, who had to mop her eyes as the ceremony concluded. The applause and good wishes were particularly loud and long, as if those witnessing the bonding remembered too.

  ‘Our turn,’ said Tierken, as the clapping died away.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know I can’t take you north as “my woman”.’

  The crowd were looking about to see if any other couples were intending to bo
nd, but Tresen’s eyes were fixed on them, and after a little the crowd followed his gaze. Kira, though, remained frozen.

  Tierken brought the back of his fingers down her cheek, ignoring the attention now focused on them.

  ‘You gifted me your trust, Kira. I took that to mean you would bond with me. Was I mistaken?’

  ‘No, I –’

  ‘Come then,’ he said gently, tugging her forward into the open space below Tresen.

  Kira was dimly aware of Laryia’s astonishment, and of Tresen grinning hugely, but the hall was hushed.

  Then Tierken turned to her and took both her hands, beginning the pledge slowly and deliberately. ‘I, Tierken of the Terak Kirillian, son of Merench, son of Lyess, brother of Laryia, speak now at Thanking, that I choose Kiraon of Kashclan as bondmate and Shelter, until leaf-fall and branch-fall shall end all my days.’

  There was absolute silence but Kira’s throat was so tight that she could hardly speak.

  ‘I . . . Kiraon of Kashclan, daughter of Maxen . . . daughter of Fasarini, sister of Merek, sister of Lern, sister of Kandor . . .’ Tears slid down her cheeks and Tierken’s hands tightened on hers. ‘. . . speak now at Thanking,’ she managed to say, ‘. . . that . . . I choose Tierken of the Terak Kirillian . . . as bondmate and . . . Shelter, until leaf-fall and branch-fall shall end all my days.’

  Tierken pulled her into his arms as the gathering erupted, and she stayed in their shelter with her face buried in his shoulder, dazed at the turn of events, but comforted by the scent and sense of him. It was a while before she was able to compose herself sufficiently to accept people’s congratulations and good wishes, and these went on for some time. Laryia’s hug was intense, and her tears scarcely less than Kira’s, which flowed afresh as Miken, then Tenerini, embraced her.

  Kest simply kissed her on each cheek. ‘It looks like the babe has decided,’ he said. ‘And Kesilini will have a good friend in the north.’

  Kira nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. On the morrow she would start the journey north again. She already knew the difficulties of living in Sarnia, but she’d be with her bondmate and their babe, and with other Tremen, and increasingly the stone of Sarnia would be softened by the green and growing.