“I’ll ask Kerrion what he knows about this.”
Shelim rode back into camp to find Kerrion already breaking his fast. He rubbed Nyx down and went to join his mentor.
“Did you enjoy the ride?” Kerrion said with an understanding smile.
Shelim knelt and poured two cups of the tea Kerrion liked so much. Kerrion said the tea would make him live longer, so Shelim drank it now as well. One thing he had learned about Kerrion—he was never wrong.
“Nyx needed the exercise,” Shelim said defensively and Kerrion grinned. “I dreamt of The One again last night.”
Kerrion’s smile slipped. “Bad?”
“Couldn’t have been worse, Mentor. Are you sure she’s not evil?”
“Nothing is certain, my boy, but I believe she is good… I hope she is,” Kerrion said with a frown. “Tell me of it.”
“We two were riding alone together at first—” Shelim began and detailed his dream from the moment he went to sleep. “—you were crying. When I looked I found my father. That’s when I awoke.”
“You said we were not on the plain?”
“At first—”
“No, I mean the battle,” Kerrion said intently.
“We are clan, we have no cities,” Shelim said by way of explanation. The plain had nothing like that burning city. It was many times bigger than Denpasser—many, many times bigger.
Kerrion looked relieved. “Good. That is good.”
“Very little was good about the dream, mentor. You were old—”
Kerrion grinned in amusement as if he had a secret.
“—and you were scarred over half your face.”
“Hmmm… I can’t say as I look forward to that part. You have seen me injured like that before.”
“Many times, but never like this. At first you looked as if you were injured moments ago, the next you were healed.”
Kerrion waved that away. “That will often happen in dreams. Keeping to one time will come with practise, my boy. You dreamed two dreams. One peaceful and one not. Both are possibilities. We must work to discover how to make the first come true.”
Shelim grimaced but Kerrion didn’t notice. The first one would not be painless. Kerrion had been hurt in that one not the second, and what about the smoke?
“—a few things… are you listening?” Kerrion said.
“Sorry,” Shelim said flushing. “I was thinking about other things. On my way back I found some tracks made by outclan horses. There must have been a hundred at least.”
“What direction were they heading?”
That Kerrion had asked when the only normal heading for them was north, meant he already knew. As Kerrion’s apprentice he should have been confided in—surely?
Shelim handed Kerrion his cup. “Why didn’t you tell me about the outclanners?”
“I should not need to tell you outclanners are close. If you used your mirror more you would be aware of what is going on around you.”
Shelim shrugged uncomfortably. He knew Kerrion was right, but whenever he used the mirror he was tempted to view the clan. It made him count the days to the Night Wind’s arrival even more.
“I know your reasons, Shelim, but it’s our duty to look for dangers in the mirror. Not only for our own sakes, but also for the good of the clan. I always check in the mornings. You should do the same.”
“I hear you, honoured Kerrion,” Shelim said with a quick bow of his head. “Will you tell me what you know of the outclanners?”
Kerrion nodded blowing across the tea to cool it a little. “The chiefs have agreed to allow them passage. The outclanners paid in gold for the privilege.”
Shelim knew by the way Kerrion spoke that he didn’t agree with the decision. It was hard to see why the chiefs would want gold anyway. The stuff was heavy and awkward to carry. You couldn’t make anything useful out of it, except a bit of jewellery for a wife perhaps. The people had no need for what the traders called money. If Shelim wanted something, he traded something else for it.
“Why do the chiefs want gold?”
“They don’t!” Kerrion said with his eyebrows climbing, obviously wondering if his apprentice had lost his wits.
The surprise on Kerrion’s face confused him. If they didn’t want the gold of these outclanners, why let them onto the clan ranges? “What other reason is there for letting them pass?” he asked and took a bite to eat.
“Fear mostly.”
Shelim choked, and let out a shocked oath. Coughing he drank more tea to wash the food down quick.
Kerrion chuckled, but it wasn’t in amusement. “It might surprise you to learn that the clans are weak compared to outclanners.”
Shock on piled on shock. “But Night Wind has more than two thousand warriors! What about all the others?”
Kerrion sighed. “We might as well make this your lesson for today. Knowledge of outclanners will be important in your future. Unlike in the past, the clans will have to deal with them rather than just ignore them.”
Kerrion settled himself and drank his tea while Shelim finished his food. Then, when Shelim was sitting comfortably opposite him, he began.
“If you journey north as far as you can go, you will find the sea of the Lost One’s. If you could cross the mountains in the east and west somehow, after many days ride you would reach the sea again. I don’t know why, but it’s called different things depending on where you are. In the south, it’s called the Sea of Despair. A good name for any sea I think, but the clans never go there… unless one of the Lost has, but I don’t know anything about that. In the south, outclanners are called Devan’s. That’s where most of the traders come from. Their land is smaller than ours, and they live in cities.”
Shelim knew what cities were. In his dreams he had once seen the city of the Lost One’s, and last night he saw another. Many stone tents together made a city. He didn’t like cities and didn’t understand why anyone would want to live in one.
“—King. Do you understand all that Shelim?” Kerrion asked.
“No,” Shelim said in embarrassment.
Kerrion shook his head. “Listen closely this time. The Devan’s live in cities and don’t have chiefs, but they do have lords, which is the same thing. In the middle of their land is a big lake with a city on its shores. In a big stone tent called the palace lives a chief of chiefs. His name is King. Now do you understand?”
It seemed simple enough, but what about the tracks? “Yes Mentor, but what about the outclanners crossing our land?”
“I’m coming to them. To the east of Deva are two more lands, but we rarely see traders from there. The land to the west is very big, perhaps twice as big as the plain, and its name is Protectorate. I know it’s a strange name, but try to remember it. It’s important. The outclanners who live in the Protectorate are Hasians, and are the ones who made your tracks. They are a greedy people—they want to take the land from the Devans.”
This was all very complicated. Shelim’s people didn’t own the land, and didn’t want to. Why would they when they travelled constantly? But outclanners lived in one place all the time and it seemed they owned the little bit their stone tents stood upon. What point then for these Hasians to own all of Deva? You could only live in one tent at a time. Why be greedy for more?
Shelim put aside his cup. “I don’t understand why the Hasians want more land, but no matter. It has nothing to do with us. Why are they crossing the plain?”
“Last summer, the Hasians made war upon the Devans who fought a great battle and defeated them. Now the Devans won’t let the Hasians into their land. The Hasians can only reach Deva from the north now. That is why they have been crossing our range.”
Finally an answer to Shelim’s original question, but… have been crossing? How many times have they crossed? Outclan the Devans might be, but at least they weren’t trying to steal the land. The traders were always friendly, and they knew what they were looking at when trading for clan horses. That was important to Shelim’s pe
ople. Bison were a necessity for survival, but horses were the people’s pride and joy. Their clothes, food, tents, everything came from bison and they couldn’t live without them, but horses made those lives worth living.
“Why are we helping to destroy the Devans, Mentor? They are not our enemy. Or are they?”
Kerrion shook his head. “Deva is not our enemy, that’s true, but they are not clan either. We will not help the Devans… or the Hasians.”
“But we are helping the Hasians by giving them passage across the plains!”
Kerrion nodded reluctantly. “The Hasians are powerful, Shelim. By allowing them to cross the plain without hindrance, the chiefs believe they will leave us in peace. There are many shamen in Protectorate—their people call them sorcerers. Unlike us, they fight by the side of the warriors and don’t care how many they kill. A shaman called Mortain is the chief for all the lands in the west. He wants to be the chief for the rest as well. I counselled against letting the Hasians through, but the chiefs are frightened of the sorcerers. They are right to fear them.”
Shelim nodded. “You counselled against letting the Hasians pass, but you also said the chiefs are right to fear the sorcerers. What would you have them do then?”
“Nothing for now, but Deva alone will not satisfy Mortain. He will want our land as well. When that time comes we will fight as one.”
This Mortain was a fool if he thought he could just take the plains without paying with his warrior’s lives. Every clan would unite as never before to stop him. Unless… unless Mortain didn’t care how many died. Shelim shivered at the thought.
“If you believe that, we should stop them now. The sorcerers will be stronger after they take Deva.”
“You are forgetting one thing, Shelim. Julia lives in Deva. She will not allow the Hasians to take it. We will not start a war with the sorcerers, but the clans will fight if pushed to it.”
Shelim nodded but wondered if perhaps Kerrion wasn’t expecting too much of the One. She was not a warrior. She did have great power, but would she be able to win against such odds alone?
The days went by quickly and the time of the Gathering drew closer.
Shelim walked through the crowds with Darnath relishing the sights and sounds. After living for so long with only Kerrion to talk to, the crowd was a little overwhelming. The first thing he did when his clan arrived at Denpasser was to visit his parents. His mother was as beautiful as ever, and his father was just as strong, but they had treated him like an important stranger rather than their son. He had been confused and hurt until he realised that where he saw himself as their son, they now saw a shaman in his place.
Shelim had quickly dispelled the false image when he said, “What’s for dinner?”
His father laughed and sat beside him asking questions, while his mother quickly made a meal.
“Did you miss the hunt?” Tomik said eager to hear his news.
“I thought I would, but I managed to escape from Kerrion to hunt a couple of times. The rest of the time I was practising my magic.”
“So! The stories are true then?”
“Yes father, the stories are true, but they don’t tell half of what a shaman can do. I can’t show you because Kerrion forbade me from using my magic until he’s sure I won’t challenge anyone.”
“I thought the old man had more sense. No boy of mine would dishonour himself so.”
Those words made Shelim sit taller. He was proud that his father thought so highly of him. It also made him more determined not to let them down.
“Kerrion is worried about the outclanners, father. He has seen the clans at war with them, but the chiefs are allowing them across the plain and won’t see the danger. I found tracks of a hundred outclan horses heading south. Have you noticed the traders have stopped coming?”
“Of course! Fewer come to the Gathers each summer that passes. I haven’t seen an outclan trader for the last two at least.”
“You won’t be seeing any for a long time I think. The traders come from Deva, which is the land to the south. The outclanners who live in the west want to take their land. Last summer the Devan’s fought and won two big battles against them. I think we will be fighting them soon.”
Tomik glanced worriedly at Selima and then back. “You are talking war.”
Shelim nodded unhappily. “Yes, but it will be unlike any the people have ever fought before. All the clans will fight as one against the outclanners, and the shamen will fight beside them.”
The shock on Tomik’s face stayed with Shelim over the following days. He had told his father that the chiefs weren’t listening to Kerrion in the hope he would quietly inform the Night Wind warriors. Tomik had understood.
“What’s it like?” Darnath said interrupting his thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, being apprenticed to the Eldest.”
“I don’t know what you’re asking, Darnath. Surely your life with Duren is no different to mine with Kerrion.”
“You even sound like a shamen now,” Darnath said in accusation. “Don’t you realise how much you’ve changed since that day in the council tent?”
“I am a shaman, Darnath, but I haven’t changed… unless you mean I’m taller now.”
Shelim knew that Darnath wasn’t referring to his greater height. He truly hadn’t realised how much his training had changed him until he met his parents again and saw the wary respect in their eyes rather than the more familiar smile of parent to son. Nevertheless, he had only known Darnath for short periods at the Gathers. How then could Darnath say he had changed?
Darnath stopped him with a hand. “You have changed, Shelim. You seem more… well, like the Eldest. You look serious all the time now, and… I don’t know. It’s like when I’m alone in the tent and Duren walks in. I know without looking it’s him.”
With relief Shelim realised his friend meant he could feel his magic. “Oh that’s nothing, Darnath. That’s just the magic. I can feel you, or any shamen for that matter. Kerrion says I’m just sensitive to it. You must be the same.”
“No, it’s not that,” Darnath said impatiently. “You know the secrets now, but Duren says I’m useless. I will never be a shaman as he is… or like you’ve become.” Then in a weak voice, “He said I should join the Lost.”
Shelim was boiling with anger. “That’s disgusting!” he almost shouted, and then guiltily looked around to see if anyone had noticed. They hadn’t, or they were too polite to show their regard. “No shaman should ever say that to one of the people,” he whispered angrily.
“Maybe he’s right though. I was a good warrior, but when I try to be a shaman I can’t do anything right!”
They walked on again.
Shelim couldn’t believe how outrageous Duren had been to say that to Darnath. To push someone toward the Lost was disgusting. To push a shaman away when they were needed so desperately was enough to make Duren a renegade and criminal. Darnath was in turmoil, but what could Shelim do about it? Duren was a full shaman and Darnath’s mentor. Kerrion couldn’t interfere with that relationship without evidence of some crime.
“Are you going back to your tribe after the Gathering?” Shelim said with a vague notion how he might help. It was risky, but Darnath was a friend of sorts and a brother shaman.
“I suppose so,” Darnath said listlessly.
Shelim stopped Darnath with an outstretched hand. Clan folk made a wide detour around them making him feel like an island in a river of the people. “Would you be willing to stay with the Night Wind if I could arrange it?” he said quietly while watching to see if anyone had overheard.
“I suppose so, but why bother… I’m useless.”
“I’ll help you to learn the lessons that’s why!” Shelim hissed keeping his voice low.
Hope sprang into Darnath’s eyes along with a great deal of gratitude. It made Shelim feel uncomfortable, but the responsibility also made him feel like a true shaman.
“Come on, we’
ll be late!” Shelim said and they rushed off toward the council tent.
“You will ask Kerrion today won’t you?” Darnath said as they loped along.
“Yes.”
“You won’t forget will you?”
Give me strength!
Mastering his initial reaction to snap at the worried man, Shelim said that no, he wouldn’t forget. As they ran, people scurried out of their way. That is they did until Shelim slammed straight into a group of young warriors. His heart sank as he recognised Dehaan. Dehaan was a Dragon Clan warrior who had made himself an enemy a few years ago when he tried to bully a much smaller warrior named Shelim.
“Well, if it isn’t little Shelim,” Dehaan said sneering and making his friends laugh. “Where are you off to in such a hurry little shaman?”
The warriors, all from Dragon Clan, laughed at Dehaan’s words and jostled each other like children.
“I’m on my way to the council, Dehaan. Let me by please.”
“Let me by please!” Dehaan said in a silly voice and laughing with his friends.
Shelim could see Darnath bristling and quickly signalled him to stay out of it. Dehaan saw the hand signs and turned his attention to Darnath.
“I don’t know you,” Dehaan said after a quick assessing look. “If you want to put yourself forward, I’m willing.”
“Leave Darnath out of this,” Shelim said interposing a shoulder between them. “I have no quarrel with you Dehaan, but you seem to have one with me. I would love to challenge, but Kerrion has forbidden it.”
“How convenient! The old fool as Mentor to the young fool.”
Kerrion had made it plain he was not to challenge anyone at this Gathering… at this Gathering. Thinking fast, Shelim made his decision. “Are you man enough to accept a bargain Dehaan, or are you too cowardly?”
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 49