by Dragon Lance
“You get used to it. We all came from the plains, Beramun. Please stay. I offer you my protection, and —” He stopped, temporarily unable to speak. As her lovely face turned toward him, dark brows lifted questioningly, the rest of the words came out of their own volition. “And you could become my mate.”
Obviously unprepared for such a declaration, she managed a smile. “You’re kind, but I don’t know you, and I wouldn’t take a man for safety’s sake alone.”
Ashamed of his boyish blundering, he assumed his most serious chieftain’s demeanor. “Forgive me. I must go. Tonight I’m leading a search for Duranix, and I must prepare.” He walked quickly down the hillside as soon as he finished speaking.
Beramun watched his rapid departure in bemusement, then turned her eyes from the village to the valley beyond. A moment later, Lyopi hailed her.
“The Arkuden just left,” Beramun said as the older woman came up behind her. “He said he was going out tonight to look for the dragon.” Lyopi nodded, and Beramun added, “I want to tell you, because you’ve been good to me. The Arkuden just asked me to be his mate.”
Lyopi blinked in surprise at the girl’s blunt words. Guardedly, she asked, “What did you say?”
Beramun shrugged. “I’m not ready to be anyone’s mate. The Arkuden’s a nice man, but he’s too old and too strange for me.”
To Lyopi the words sounded flippant and disrespectful, and her temper flared. “Go back to the house, Beramun,” she snapped.
“Why?”
“There’s chores to be done, girl. If you think I’m going to house you and feed you for nothing, you can think again. Even Unar has to share the work, and he’s my kinsman.”
“You’re not my mother!” the younger woman protested hotly.
“Then go. elsewhere, but don’t insult a good man with your foolish talk!”
Beramun stepped back, stung by her words, then her outraged expression changed. “So that’s how the wind blows,” she said, nodding sagely. “I’ll go. Thank you for your hospitality, Lyopi.”
“Thank the Arkuden. You were his guest, not mine.”
They parted, both feeling ill-used. As she stalked away, Beramun decided she’d had enough of Yala-tene. What she wanted most was to roam the wide plains and sleep beneath the open sky. She’d warned these people of Zannian’s raiders. Now she was done with them.
Chapter 14
A crimson sunset brought stillness to the Valley of the Falls. It also brought a well-deserved rest to those working in the gardens and orchards. Tired villagers swung their tools onto their shoulders, put the dying light of day at their backs, and headed home.
Atop the wall, Amero watched them stream in. Their voices were happy and their pace casual as they talked of the day’s work and the evening meal to come. Threats from unknown human raiders didn’t seem real on a mild, rose-tinted evening like this.
Villagers waved and called greetings to the Arkuden. After welcoming everyone, Amero picked up his spear, water gourd, and provisions bag, and descended to ground level. Four young men waited for him there. The one Amero knew best was Udi, Tepa’s son.
“We did as you bid, Arkuden,” Udi said. “We have food and water for four days, and every man has spear and knife.”
“Good. Remember this is not a war party. If we meet any raiders, we’ll hide rather than fight. Understood?”
“Aye, Arkuden.”
The other young men nodded their agreement.
They set out, girded by the long shadows of dusk. There was no need for stealth in the valley, so one boy produced a reed pipe and blew a tuneful air as they crossed Amero’s bridge and ascended the broad gravel path into the western pass.
Night was well in place by the time they reached the mouth of the pass. Here a fork of the Plains River meandered away to the northwest, and the rugged peaks smoothed into a series of low, steep hills, fringed with small stands of trees.
Amero sent the best tracker in the group, Paharo, Huru’s son, ahead to look for traces of Duranix. When the dragon flew, he left no tracks on the ground, so Paharo searched for any accidental signs – broken treetops, swirls of dust laid down by the sweep of Duranix’s wings – but found none. He returned and told Amero the trail would not be easy to follow, especially by moonlight.
“We’ll go a while longer,” Amero said, “then camp when Soli is highest. Agreed?”
The young men readily assented, and the search party headed southwest.
The night was filled with the usual sounds: the click and whir of insects, the soft flutter of bats, an occasional owl hoot or far-off panther wail. Periodically, Amero sent out a silent mental call to the dragon. He received no answer.
The full moon climbed among the stars and cast a bright light on the countryside. When Soli peaked in the vault of heaven, Amero called for rest. Paharo chose a convenient hilltop for their campsite. Amero had forbidden a fire, so they ate cold rations. The Arkuden and Udi took the first watch, and the other three bedded down.
Amero left the crown of the hill and settled against a locust tree. Sipping water from a gourd bottle, he sat and studied the stars.
The two great constellations – Matat, the dragon, and Pala, the winged serpent – faced each other on the eternal plain of the sky. The stars reminded him of when his mother used to explain their patterns to him and his sister Nianki and their little brother Menni. She had called Matat a “stormbird,” not realizing her true name. Matat was a dragon, like Duranix.
His thoughts thudded back to earth. Duranix. Where had he gone? What if he was gone forever? Amero tried to imagine life without his mighty friend. It was like contemplating the loss of a hand or an eye. He depended on the dragon so much.
Duranix had been the only constant in his world since the day his parents were killed by the yevi. If the dragon hadn’t rescued him and brought him to the Lake of the Falls, it was unlikely he would have survived.
Amero closed his eyes once more and sent out a silent call. Duranix, where are you? Come back, old friend. I need you!
There was no reply, and with a sigh, his thoughts turned to the other face haunting him: Beramun. He felt like a fool for having spoken to her so bluntly. His lack of tact was the result of his years as unchallenged leader of Yala-tene. Twenty years ago he wouldn’t have dared say such an audacious thing. Amero’s patience, like his youth, had fallen away with the years.
Beramun’s life was far removed from his chosen path. For her, wandering was still the only way. She was young, too, with a young person’s sense of invulnerability. It was impossible to contemplate death or old age when your limbs were strong and your body full of vitality.
Perhaps that’s why he was so drawn to her – for her beauty, yes, but also for her vigor, that joyful freedom of the open plain, where each day began fresh and new. His days were regular and much the same. He had many burdensome responsibilities and saw the same people day after day, season after season.
One of those people was Lyopi, the living opposite of Beramun. Amero found it easy to see the differences between them but difficult to explain why both attracted him. Lyopi was strong, warm, comforting, and sensual. She made him feel calm. Beramun excited him.
He furrowed his brow. How he wished Duranix were here. Even sarcastic advice was better than no advice at all.
The whisper of footsteps in the grass caused Amero to sit up. Udi appeared, ducking under the newly leafed trees.
“Arkuden,” he said tensely, “I heard something.”
“What? Where?”
“I don’t know what it was, but it came from a patch of thorn bush on the back of the hill.”
“Wake the others then join me there – quietly!”
Amero crept to the far side of the knoll. A dense thicket of briars filled the dark ravine between this hill and the next. He crouched low and listened.
Sure enough, he heard light, regular breathing. He was so focused on trying to pinpoint the source of the sound that Udi’s sudden appearance
at his side caused him to flinch.
“Do you hear it?” Udi’s voice was almost soundless.
Amero nodded.
“Animal?”
Amero shrugged. It could be a bear. They were fond of the berries found inside such thickets.
At Amero’s gesture, they moved apart and headed silently down the hill. When they reached the edge of the thorny growth, a new sound froze them in their tracks. A cough, followed by the light clearing of a throat. The two men exchanged looks. Not a bear. A human. Perhaps a raider scout?
Amero raised his spear high and signaled for Udi to do the same. They would flush out whoever was inside. The Arkuden nodded, and both weapons thudded into the dense tangle of thorns and leaves. Nothing happened.
Amero indicated they should try again. This time something definitely shifted within the brush, away from Udi and toward Amero. With both hands the Arkuden jammed his spear into the tangle. He was rewarded by a low cry of distress.
“Stop!” said a voice muffled by the dense brush. “Don’t strike again!”
“Come out at once. This thicket is surrounded!”
The pile of greenery heaved, and a person came crawling out, belly to the ground. When the stranger stood up, moonlight caught her face. Amero yelped with surprise.
“Beramun!”
“Arkuden?”
“What are you doing out here?”
“I go where I choose,” she replied tartly. The rest of Amero’s party arrived in time to hear this exchange. The boys snickered, and she added, “I left the village this afternoon.”
“Why?”
“Your woman, Lyopi, expected me to work for her. I refused, and she put me out.” Beramun’s dark eyes narrowed. “You made it hard for me to stay with her when you asked me to be your mate.”
The boys were openly amused to hear their old Arkuden had tried to woo this beautiful young wanderer. Amero ignored their grinning faces, though he felt his own burning with embarrassment.
“Why did you come this way?” he asked, annoyed. “Isn’t this the land threatened by Sthenn and the raiders?”
“It’s the land I know. Where else could I go?”
Amero was too tired to continue this pointless exchange. “Back to camp, hoys,” he said. To Beramun he added, “You’re welcome to join us, if you wish.”
She shrugged. “If you’ve got some of those dried apple slices with you, I’ll stay for breakfast.”
“I have a bag full,” said Udi, shaking it.
They climbed the hill to their little camp. Paharo regarded Beramun curiously. “How did you get in and out of those thorns without being scratched?” he asked.
Beramun glanced at her bare arms. “It’s a trick my mother taught me,” she said. “Thorn bushes have a nap, like fur. You have to find the nap of the thorns, and go in and out with it. Briar thickets make good places to hide and sleep. Nothing bigger than a rabbit can get in.”
“You’re bigger than a rabbit,” said Amero.
“I guess I am.” She laughed, and Amero’s anger melted away. He found himself noticing how the moonlight glinted off her ebony hair, how it limned her face with silver.
Paharo and another boy took over watch duties so Amero and Udi could sleep. Beramun chose a spot away from the men and stretched out on the ground. Though she had neither blanket nor cloak, she quickly fell asleep.
Amero was collecting his gear when Beramun woke, the morning sun raking her face.
“Arkuden? What —?” she began, squinting up at him. “Good morning. Get ready, we’re moving out.”
She shook the sleep from her brain and stood, brushing twigs and grass from her clothes. Udi and Paharo passed around dried fruit and elk jerky. Beramun recovered her meager kit and fell into line with the rest.
“Are you coming with us then?” asked Paharo, chewing a brown wedge of apple.
“Until you find the dragon,” she said. “If the Arkuden doesn’t mind.”
“You’re welcome,” he told her. “But you must be one of the parly. Don’t go stalking off on your own without telling us.”
Beramun agreed.
It was a warm, sunny morning, but there were signs change was coming. Fat white clouds crowded the sun, and by midmorning, low, gray clouds had come pushing down from the north. The men donned their grass capes and hoods. Beramun had no such storm gear among Lyopi’s hand-me-downs. Paharo offered her his cape, hut she declined it, saying she’d been rained on before.
The land flattened gradually, the hills shrinking. Trees became fewer. An ocean of waving grass displaced the patches of knotweed and flintgrass that dotted the foothills like sparse locks of unruly hair.
As they beheld the open savanna, Amero suffered pangs of memory. He’d not been to the great plain in many years, and his childhood came back to him in a painful rush. His first dozen years had been spent out here, wandering behind Oto, Kinar, and his fierce elder sister, Nianki. Too young to hunt, he’d often cared for baby brother Menni while Kinar prowled for roots and grubs. The fingers of his left hand curled with the memory of that tiny hand in his.
“Arkuden.”
The ghosts of years past vanished. “Eh?”
“Paharo has found a trail, Arkuden.”
“Found it? Where?”
Udi pointed at the sea of grass, waving in the cool southern wind. “It looks like the Protector alighted here. He continued on foot that way,” he said, gesturing to the south. “The trail disappears a short way on. High grass can conceal even a dragon’s footprints.”
Amero nodded. “We’ll have to spread out. Divide into pairs. No one is to lose sight of the others at any time, understand?”
The four young men promptly paired off, leaving Amero with Beramun. Grinning at their Arkuden and the young woman, the boys waded off into the waist-high grass, sweeping the ground ahead of them with their spears.
“I’m sorry,” Amero said to Beramun.
“For what?”.
“The boys think they’re being funny.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said. She set out, parting the grass with her hands like a swimmer.
“Wait,” Amero called. “Don’t get too far ahead.”
“Why not? It’s my country, after all.”
“It was mine, too,” he muttered, plunging into the grass.
They made slow progress through the thick spring growth, and the only things they found in the grass were snakes and hopping rats. When the sun neared its zenith, Paharo sang out from his place on Amero’s left.
“Arkuden! A track!”
Everyone converged on the spot where Paharo crouched in the grass. A large, bare human footprint was plainly visible once he’d pushed back the tall weeds.
“He’s taken human shape,” said Udi.
“Walking like a man, we can track him,” Paharo added.
Amero looked in the direction the print pointed. “Still going due south. I wonder why?”
“The river lies that way,” Beramun offered. “The raiders must cross it somewhere.”
They re-formed and moved out, Paharo leading, along the dragon’s trail. They moved deliberately, careful to find the next footprint before proceeding.
Cool wind rushed over the savanna, heralding a storm. The clouds darkened, lowering until it seemed they would touch the grass itself. Amero halted the party for rest and food. Not long after they stopped, a spear of lightning flashed to the ground some leagues away.
“We’re going to get wet,” sighed Udi.
They finished eating quickly and got moving again. Beramun took the lead this time, slipping through the tall weeds like a deer, scarcely disturbing the stalks as she passed. Compared to her, the village boys moved like clumsy oxen, tramping loudly and leaving a plain trail behind.
Just as the first fat drops of rain splattered on Amero’s head, Beramun came scrambling back on all fours. “Down! Down!” she hissed. “Get down!”
They dropped on their bellies. Udi was nearest Amero, so he
grabbed Udi’s wrist and whispered, “Ask her what’s amiss.”
Udi relayed the message. Back came a one-word answer: “Riders.”
The clouds cracked open. Lying on the ground, Amero could see raindrops running down the grass stems, making little craters in the dirt when they landed. Over the pelting rain he heard a whistle, followed by a shout. He couldn’t make out what was said, but the speaker was male and only a few paces away.
With hand signals, Amero indicated that his companions should spread out so a single rider couldn’t stumble over all of them at once. The boys crawled off into the grass. Beramun stayed where she was. The clop-clop of horses’ hooves was plain now. Amero gripped his spear tightly.
“Ho, Tezar!” the rider called. “Any signs?”
Any reply from the distant Tezar was lost in the drumming rain. Amero was horrified to see Beramun suddenly get up on one knee. He gestured frantically at her to get down.
A horse came through the tall grass on Amero’s right. Drawing in his hands and feet, Amero made himself as small and still as possible.
There was another, brighter flash of lightning, followed at once by a booming roll of thunder. While it was still echoing, Beramun ran up to the first rider, cupped her hands under his right heel, and heaved. He hit the ground and, dazed, pushed himself up on his hands and knees.
Amero rushed forward and struck the raider on the head with the shaft of his spear. The man dropped facedown in the grass. Glaring fiercely at Beramun, Amero waved for her to get out of sight.
She answered his glare with a shrug, then vanished into the grass. Amero crept away, too. Moments later, a pair of horsemen reached the scene and found their comrade out cold, his horse cropping grass a short distance away.
Amero held his breath, but the newcomers burst into raucous laughter. “Drunk again, Wenaman?” said one.
“Better get him up before Hoten sees him,” growled the other raider.
The men heaved their limp friend onto his horse. Lightning flared, showing that their leather chestplates and hoods were embellished with garish paint, bones, horns, and animal teeth.
They rode on, and Amero lifted his head slightly to follow their progress. They headed northeast in the direction of Yala-tene.