Beyond the Draak’s Teeth

by Marcia J. Bennett

  Admonished, Samsel’s head dropped perceptibly. When he looked up at Bhaldavin again, the boldness was gone from his eyes. “Forgive me, Green One. I didn’t mean to be impolite.” He hesitated, then asked again. “Is your name Bhaldavin?”

  “It is,” Bhaldavin answered.

  “Have you come to sing draak for us?”

  “He has come to learn to sing,” Gringers explained. “Go about your business now—all of you,” he said, waving away the children who had gathered. “Bhaldavin will be with us for some time, so you can all get to know him later.”

  The children scattered as Gringers, Theon, and Bhaldavin continued on toward the raft in the center of the floating village. When they reached Seevan’s raft, Gringers led the way to the small addition that had been built onto Seevan’s cabin. There was a guard at the door.

  “What have you got there?” the guard asked, eyes eagerly assessing Bhaldavin. “He’s new, isn’t he?”

  Gringers nodded. “His name is Bhaldavin. I’m taking him to meet Nara and Di-nel.”

  As Gringers reached for the door, the guard caught him by the arm. “I didn’t know any of the Ni were up for sale anywhere. Where did you find him?”

  “Later, Jon. It’s a long story.”

  Gringers knocked on the door twice, then opened it, ushering Bhaldavin inside. Theon followed and closed the door behind him.

  The interior of the room was lighted by six small windows. Lil-el, who had arrived ahead of them, made the introductions. Gringers was welcomed back by a pat on the shoulder from Di-nel, Theon received a nod of acceptance; but for Bhaldavin the greeting was more formal. Nara and Di-nel put their hands palm to palm, placed their fingertips to their lips, then extended their hands to Bhaldavin.

  Bhaldavin’s thoughts whirled back to the days of his childhood, and he remembered the correct response. He placed his hand within Nara’s cupped hands first, then he did the same to Di-nel.

  The ritual of friendship and hospitality offered and accepted, Nara drew Bhaldavin into the room, inviting him to sit on one of the woven grass mats that circled a small low table in the center of the room.

  “Will you join us?” Di-nel asked Theon and Gringers.

  Gringers shook his head. “We can’t stay, Di-nel. Theon and I have some things to talk over with Uncle Khalil.” He lowered his voice. “It concerns Bhaldavin. Has Lil-el told you anything about him?”

  “She started to. Don’t worry, Gringers, he’ll be fine here with us. Go and greet your family.”

  Though aware of the conversation going on at the door, Bhaldavin’s attention was upon Nara, whose crystal-gray eyes were warm with welcome. He could see the daughter in the mother, and there was a sense of serenity about the older female that made him suddenly feel at peace, as if he had come home after long years of wandering.

  Di-nel closed the door behind Gringers and Theon and came to join his wife and daughter and their new guest. He brought with him a hide flagon and four wooden bowls.

  He smiled at Bhaldavin as he poured a dark red liquid into each bowl and passed them around. “Have you ever had ingler wine, Bhaldavin?”

  Bhaldavin sniffed the contents of the bowl. “No,” he said. He was unable to place the fragrance in the wine.

  “You are in for a treat then.” Di-nel raised his bowl and touched it to Bhaldavin’s bowl. “Welcome to our home, Bhaldavin. May your stay with us be a pleasant one.”

  Nara duplicated the gesture of touching bowls. “May you find happiness here, Bhaldavin.”

  Lil-el reached across the table and knocked her bowl gently against his. “And a new life,” she finished.

  Bhaldavin looked from face to face, and for one brief moment he saw his own family surrounding him. The lump in his throat prevented him from speaking, so he nodded and put the bowl to his lips. The wine was smooth and berry-flavored, and it sent shivers of pleasure flowing through him. Within seconds there was a warmth in his stomach that seemed to invade his entire system.

  “Do you like it?” Lil-el asked impishly.

  “Yes, very much.”

  Bhaldavin took another sip of wine and let his glance wander the confines of the sparsely furnished room. Grass mats covered most of the floor, and there were several large kists against one wall. Wooden pegs and shelves were on every wall. The clothes that hung on the pegs were much like those Nara and Di-nel were wearing: plain leather breeches and cloth tunics.

  Di-nel poured Bhaldavin another cup of wine. “Would you like to tell us about yourself, Bhaldavin?”

  Bhaldavin’s hand tightened around his bowl. He wanted to answer Di-nel, but couldn’t. The empty pocket of darkness that encompassed his past was like an open pit into which he would fall if he tried to remember. The pit frightened him.

  Lil-el caught her father’s eye and shook her head. She put her hand on Bhaldavin’s arm. “Would you like to ask us any question about the rafters—or draak singing? I told Father that you were interested in becoming a draak singer.”

  Di-nel realized that something was amiss and followed Lil-el’s lead. “We can always use another singer, Bhaldavin. Have you had any training?”

  Bhaldavin’s eyes lifted, relieved by the change of subject. “A little, but after hearing Lil-el, I realize I have much to learn.”

  They went on to talk about the kinds of draak that were common to the marshlands of Amla-Bagor and how the rafters, with Ni help, had managed to live and flourish in the dangerous wetlands. Gradually the conversation worked its way around to the rafters’ trading trip to Natrob and Bhaldavin’s unexpected appearance. Before he realized it, Bhaldavin was telling them all that had happened to him in Fisherman’s Landing and how he had come to be with Theon and Gringers.

  When he had finished speaking, Nara spoke. “You have traveled far these past few weeks, Bhaldavin. I think you could do with a good night’s rest.” She pointed to a sleeping mat next to one wall. “Why don’t you go over there and lie down awhile. Sleep if you can. I promise to wake you for supper.”

  Bhaldavin looked at the grass mat. Suddenly the thought of sleep seemed very good to him. It’s the wine, he thought absently as Di-nel helped him up.

  Nara brought him a blanket and covered him. Eyes heavy with sleep, he turned on his side, facing the wall. It was in his mind to thank his hosts for their hospitality, but he couldn’t seem to get the words to his lips. He heard someone talking, but it was impossible to concentrate on the words.

  “… so don’t ask him about his past, Father. He simply blanks out.”

  “The war must have been terrible for him. He couldn’t have been very old.”

  “Do you think he’ll be happy here, Mother?”

  Nara glanced at the blanketed form. “Only time will answer that, Lil-el. Only time and his own ability to forgive those who have wronged him.”

  Chapter 11

  BHALDAVIN LISTENED TO LlL-EL CAREFULLY, THEN IMITATED the trilling sound that had captured a very young water draak. The draak’s red eyes moved from Lil-el and fixed upon him, then with a soft plopping noise, it disappeared beneath the surface of the water. The evening light showed small ripples arcing out away from the spot where it had disappeared.

  “Almost, Bhaldavin,” Lil-el said softly. “You had him for a moment. Listen.” She repeated the trilling call, and again the small draak appeared, this time on the other side of the boat.

  At Lil-el’s signal, he took a deep breath and repeated the call. This time he did it right, and the draak remained motionless.

  Lil-el switched to another song they had practiced for several days and nodded to indicate that he should join her.

  The young draak swam toward them, the underwater movement of its legs and tail causing only a slight ripple on the surface.

  Lil-el stopped and let him continue alone. The draak’s blunt nose bumped against the boat. Its eyes remained closed as Bhaldavin’s slowly reached over the side of the boat and gently rubbed a finger along the hard crest between the draak’s eyes. The
n he withdrew his hand and let the song fade away. The draak opened its eyes and, a second later, disappeared beneath the boat.

  “Very well done, Bhaldavin,” Gringers said softly.

  Startled, Bhaldavin turned. Immersed in the song, he had forgotten that he and Lil-el were not alone; for a little while, he had forgotten that he was still a prisoner at the mercy of men who saw him not as a person but as a useful tool.

  Seeing Bhaldavin’s lips tighten in anger, Gringers drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Making friends with the Green One was proving very difficult. He leaned over and drew his paddle from the bottom of the boat. “I think it’s time to go back now. I’m hungry.”

  “I am too,” Lil-el said, picking up the other paddle.

  “We can come back after dark if you like,” Gringers offered.

  “No. I think not,” Lil-el replied, glancing at Bhaldavin. “We’ve been out long enough for one day.” She started paddling. “There’s no sense in his trying to learn it all in a few days. We’ve lots of time.”

  Bhaldavin’s glance met hers, then slid away. Time, he thought; it was easy to forget the passage of time while he was with Lil-el. Not only did he enjoy his lessons, he liked being near her, watching her smile, hearing her laugh, sitting quietly beside her at night listening to her tell stories about the men and Ni who lived in the swamps. He wasn’t sure that all of the stories she told were true, but he enjoyed them all the same. As they glided in and out of the tree shadows, he suddenly realized that Lil-el was coming to mean much more to him than just teacher and friend.

  Behind him, Gringers hummed softly to himself as he guided the boat around a partially submerged tree root. He turned and caught Gringers’s eye.

  And that is precisely what you want. If I come to love Lil-el, I too will become a victim of love bonds, physically free to run, but emotionally tied to the rafters through my love for Lil-el. His hand tightened on the gunwhale. He couldn’t let that happen! He had to be free to run when the chance presented itself. Time was passing, both for himself and his family—if any of them were still alive.

  “Something wrong, Bhaldavin?” Gringers asked.

  “No. Just thinking.”

  “About?” About what you’re trying to do to me!

  “Bhaldavin?”

  Pressed for an answer, Bhaldavin changed the subject. “How much time do I have—to learn to sing draak?”

  “Time?” Gringers frowned. “As much as you need. Why?”

  “If I’m to go with you and Theon to—”

  A warning hand closed on the back of his neck. “What Theon and I are planning has nothing to do with you, Bhaldavin,” Gringers said, trying to sound calm. “All you have to concentrate on are the songs Lil-el is teaching you.”

  “But I thought—”

  Gringers leaned close. “Not now!” he hissed softly.

  Lil-el glanced back just as Gringers returned to his paddling. She hadn’t heard his whispered words. “Don’t worry, Bhaldavin. You have a good ear. I promise, you’ll be a full-fledged draak singer by harvest time.”

  Gringers’s raft was sheltered under the overhanging branches of a large lingerry tree and hidden so well that only the glow of light coming from the windows revealed its location.

  Theon met them at the edge of the raft. It was plain from the frown on his face that he’d been watching for their return.

  “Anything wrong?” Gringers asked as he tied the boat to the raft.

  “If I have to spend another day mucking around knee-deep in mud and slime, I’m leaving,” Theon snarled.

  Gringers knew what the problem was without asking. “Someone has to plant elvar roots if we’re to have anything to eat in the spring,” he said calmly.

  “Well, let someone else do it! I didn’t come here to become a swamp farmer.”

  “No, you came to escape Laran’s justice,” Gringers reminded him, “and if you don’t work, you don’t eat.” He unlocked the light chain that had replaced the constricting draakhide fetters at Bhaldavin’s ankles, but kept hold of the end of the chain.

  “Is Diak here?” Gringers asked,

  “He got back about an hour ago.”

  “Have you eaten?” Lil-el asked, moving past Theon.

  “No. We waited for you. Diak thought you would be right along.”

  “What are we having?” Gringers asked, steering Bhaldavin toward the small cabin in the middle of the raft.

  “Meatless stew, what else?” Theon grumbled.

  They were too many to eat at the small table inside the cabin, so Theon, Lil-el, and Bhaldavin took their plates outside. While they ate, Theon asked about Bhaldavin’s progress.

  “I’m learning,” Bhaldavin replied shortly, intent upon the food before him.

  Theon chewed on a mouthful of half-cooked vegetables and studied Bhaldavin closely. The Ni was sitting in the light of the open door, as close to the edge of the raft as his chain would allow him to go. The other end of the chain was attached to a metal ring driven inside the doorway.

  Theon shook his head. Garv’s Little Fish had changed drastically. His voice was firm, his glance direct; he had gained weight and filled out and no longer wore his long green hair loose. Every morning Lil-el combed and braided it for him, sometimes decorating it with a finely woven strip of cloth.

  “Theon,” Lil-el said softly, making sure her voice didn’t carry back into the cabin. “Has Gringers said anything to you about trying to climb the Draak’s Teeth?”

  Theon looked up, smelling trouble. “No. Why?”

  Lil-el shrugged. “I just wondered.”

  Lil-el finished her bowl of stew and rose. “Theon, I’m going to take the boat to visit my parents. Tell Gringers I’ll be back early tomorrow.”

  “Shall I call Hallon to go with you?” Theon offered.

  Lil-el went to the boat and untied the mooring rope. “No,” she said, stepping down into the stern. “I’ll be fine. It isn’t far, and what draak would bother me?”

  Bhaldavin and Theon watched Lil-el push off. The evening was growing darker by the moment, and she was quickly lost beyond the tree limbs overhanging the water.

  Bhaldavin felt something brush the top of his head. Startled, he looked up and found Gringers standing beside him.

  “Where’s she going?” he asked.

  Theon picked up Lil-el’s bowl. “She went to see her parents. Said she’d be back early tomorrow. Are you finished with that, Bhaldavin?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  Bhaldavin ducked beneath Gringers’s hand and passed his bowl to Theon. Then he swished his hand in the water and dried it on his pant leg.

  “Did you say anything to Lil-el about the Draak’s Teeth, Gringers?” Theon asked.

  “No. Why?”

  “She was asking about us climbing the mountains. I thought maybe you’d said something to her.”

  “No. Nothing.”

  Theon shrugged and went into the cabin. Bhaldavin looked out at the lights coming from the other rafts just beyond the point. He was very much aware of Gringers standing behind him.

  “Bhaldavin,” Gringers said, “you are not to say anything to Lil-el about us climbing the Draak’s Teeth. One wrong word to the wrong person and Seevan would be down on us like a male draak in rut. It would mean the end of our venture and, very possibly, the end of any chance you might have of earning your freedom.” Gringers paused. “You do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

  Bhaldavin was irritated by the warning tone in Gringers’s voice. He wasn’t stupid. He knew his best chance for escape and freedom lay with Gringers. Should Seevan learn of his nephew’s plans, he would probably take Bhaldavin away from Gringers and have someone else see to his training. But he did not consider Lil-el a “wrong person.” She wouldn’t say anything to Seevan if he asked her not to. He was sure of that!

  Again Gringers’s hand touched the top of his head.

  “It wasn’t easy to convince Seevan to let me have you to train,” Gringers
said. “He wanted to give you to Ysal for training. If not for Uncle Khalil siding with me, I wouldn’t have you now, so it’s imperative that we give Seevan no cause for suspicion. Understood?”

  Bhaldavin reached up and knocked Gringers’s hand away. “I hear you.”

  Gringers held his position and said nothing. Moments passed.

  Uneasy, Bhaldavin looked up, wondering if he had overstepped that invisible barrier that had, up until that moment, protected him from Gringers’s anger. The light coming from the open cabin doorway cast a golden glow around Gringers. There was a pensive look on his face, overlaid by a sadness that made it difficult for Bhaldavin to meet his glance.

  “Do you hate me so much, Bhaldavin?” The words came softly.

  Hate? Bhaldavin thought about that a moment. Hate was a strong word and not exactly the one he would have used to express his feelings toward the man; but if not hate, what then did he feel? Certainly not love or friendship. Still, there was a sense of safety when in Gringers’s presence; and though he couldn’t explain it, he realized that he trusted Gringers to be fair and reasonably honest.

  Theon suddenly appeared in the doorway, squinting into the darkness. “Gringers, Diak says he’s ready with the box if you want to begin.”

  Gringers ignored Theon and continued to look down at Bhaldavin. “I’m sorry, Bhaldavin. I had hoped we could be friends.”

  “Is something wrong, Gringers?” Theon asked as Gringers turned and started for the doorway.

  “No.”

  “Will Little Fish be all right out here alone?”

  “Where would he go?”

  “Nowhere. I just thought you might want to have him come inside.”

  “It isn’t necessary. I think he would like to be alone a little while. Come in and close the door behind you.”

  Bhaldavin sat quietly staring out into the darkness after Theon and Gringers left. He tried to get his mind off Gringers by concentrating on the night sounds around the lake, the chirring of insects, the splash of a fish or frog leaping out of the water, the deep cough of a draak as it cleared its mouth and throat of water after a dive.