Trail of Pyres

Home > Other > Trail of Pyres > Page 16
Trail of Pyres Page 16

by L. James Rice


  “The hundersan is a place where you can rest, grow accustomed to the Elements flowing through you. After a few days, you’ll be able to travel with me without feeling ill.”

  “A cure for sea sickness. Tree sickness.”

  She grinned. “You are a strange man.”

  “No argument from me, I reckon.”

  She turned and stopped, while he banged his head on the rung of a ladder hanging from a tree. She giggled. “At the top of this ladder you’ll find a platform, and a door to the hundersan, enter, and do not leave until someone comes for you.”

  “Food, water? A garderobe? A man’s gotta answer to nature even in the Eleris, I suspect.”

  “You’ll find everything you need.”

  “If I sneak out?”

  “They’ll put you back and it begins again.”

  “Cooped on a boat to cooped in a tree.” He grabbed the ladder, yanking on it to test its strength. “Three days?”

  “I should be back by then.”

  He pulled himself up until gaining rungs with his feet, swaying and swinging the first few feet until Lelishen grabbed the bottom. He stopped and glanced down, his mind having grasped a memory. “Parting is a sorrow, sadder than an arrow leaving the string to slay an innocent.” He let go with one hand, the other pressed to his forehead with a dramatic flourish.

  But she laughed, and that’d been his target. “A peculiar and strange man. Worst performance I’ve ever seen, I might add.”

  He climbed from then on without stopping, and without looking down. He didn’t know if he feared heights and didn’t want the answer until he reached the platform. He leaned over the edge then, he was at least four poles from the ground, a nasty fall, live or die. Lelishen let go of the ladder and waved, he smiled and raised his hand.

  He didn’t fear heights, a discovery which pleased him. He stood and took in the scenery. Beautiful, but he couldn’t see far with the branches and leaves. It was like standing in the mountains, knowing the majesty should awe you, but all you can see are clouds.

  He turned with a disappointed sigh, facing a plain door set in a wall of branches and leaves. It was unusual, he didn’t understand how they grew a living wall so perfect, and he noted this for one of his questions when the lady returned.

  The door opened with a gentle push and bore no locks. The room was a five pace square and its furnishings limited to a bed, two chairs, and a table holding decanters of water and what looked to be wine, as well as plates full of fresh berries, bread, and fruits he didn’t recognize. The bed sat in the corner, crafted from living wood, with a silk blanket and pillow. He patted the mattress to find it rustled like footsteps in a fall forest; stuffed with dried leaves for cushion, he guessed.

  Solineus sighed, then noted a hollowed trunk of wood. He meandered to the hole, undid his trousers and took a leak, hoping to the heavens he’d guessed right.

  The fourth day in his voluntary prison dawned with silver speckled eyes, and Solineus smiled. “You’re late.”

  “We woodkin are renowned for our casual disregard for time. Or hadn’t you heard?” Lelishen sat in a chair observing him. “Are you feeling well?”

  “Never better. The wine got me drunk, the water helped me recover, and the bread and fruit kept my belly full, but I’m worried what I used for a latrine might lead lickety-split to someone’s dining table.”

  She grinned. “I’m sure the extra day helped your recovery.”

  Solineus jumped to his feet, stretching. “From what, a stiff back after sitting around for days?”

  “Dizziness, muscle cramps? Many folks can’t eat until the third day.”

  Solineus glanced at the table and the scarce remnants of food. “I reckon I’ve a soldier’s gut.”

  “You felt nothing?” She peaked her index fingers and tapped her nose as she studied him. “I wouldn’t mention this to the Edan.”

  “I follow your lead.” He grabbed the Twins, wrapped in a linen cloth for concealment, and slung them over his shoulder. He tapped his foot. “So, lead. I’m sick of this tree.” Sick of sitting around with nothing to do but relive the horrors on Kaludor in his mind.

  Lelishen went first, a good thing since he would’ve slowed her down, and when he reached the forest floor he found himself in the company of another Trelelunin. A woman with light green eyes, speckled with glints of ruby, and if she weren’t standing beside Lelishen, he may have considered her gorgeous.

  “Solineus Mikjehemlut, blood of the Clan Emudar, I present you to Medivu Sedafus Iminloe. She will be our guide to the Crowning Oak.”

  He bowed, but no deeper than a strong tree in the wind; respectful, but not subservient. He spoke in Edan. “I thank you for this welcome to the Mother Wood.”

  The woman’s smile was brief as a blink. “Lelishen assures me she has guided you on etiquette. You are welcome by her word, please respect her sacrifice.”

  “Of course.” Sacrifice? Another question for when they were alone.

  “Follow me.”

  The woman sauntered away, and it took him hasty steps to keep pace with her gliding strides.

  Lelishen walked by his side. “The Eleris is leery of outsiders, I fear.”

  “I’m not surprised, with thousands of foreigners piling up on the shores.”

  “Yes, but there’s more. I spoke of another ritual on the Eve of Snows.”

  “Unholy… I forgot about it. What word?”

  “Someone died.”

  The knot in his gut faded, but his face twisted. “Only one?”

  “One of the twenty-five, the Archangels. Uvin Lo. The remaining twenty-four disappeared.”

  It sounded damned impressive, hells, he wanted to be impressed, but he had no idea what she was talking about. “I don’t know of these Archangels. Disappeared?”

  “We’ll know more when we reach the Crowning Tree. I also mentioned your swords, with luck we’ll learn more of them.”

  “You spoke to an Edan smith?”

  “No, but word will spread. If someone has knowledge, we’ll learn of it in time.”

  “I can trust the Edan?”

  One brow arched, the other squinted. “Would they keep them, or kill you? No.”

  “If they’re so rare and valuable, why not?”

  She was silent a moment, and he wondered if he’d insulted her.

  “I don’t think I would call it a sense of honor, like we Trelelunin hold. I don’t believe the thought would cross their minds. They’re incapable.”

  “You’re feeding me porridge and calling it steak.”

  She laughed. “Maybe, I can’t be sure of anything, it’s just how I feel about them. They’d be more apt to kill you and send your swords to kin than to steal them.”

  “Not sure how comforting that is.” A buzz passed through his bones, goosebumps prickled his skin. “What the Twelve Hells?”

  Her lips curled into a smile, and she exhaled, relaxing as if losing the weight of her worries. “Welcome to the Mother Wood.”

  17

  Crowning Tree

  Spinning wheel no mortal may steal,

  a twisting thread plucked for the dead.

  A song, a tune, a lyric,

  its very words making you sick,

  a tick, a tock, a tick in your sock,

  sucker of blood, sucker of life,

  Gushing your life beneath your heel.

  –Tomes of the Touched

  Solineus’ travel into the Eleris was full of wonders, not the least of which was how their skiff traveled against the current, but the unbelievability of this phenomenon faded with other sights. Deep within the Mother Wood most trees became Eternal Oak, the majority several hundred feet tall with diameters of at least thirty feet. They bore leaves of deep green with silver and gold, and hues of reds, blues, and violet in different light. When a falling leaf came close, he reached out to catch it, awed by its being as long as his arm.

  Lelishen pointed to a grove of straight young trees cared for by the sevet
eru mohon, the bow benders. Eternal Oak grew nowhere else in the world, and from their strong and flexible fibers the mohon fashioned the finest bows the world knew. With ten years of growth, they harvested and carved these trees into longbows, and shaved the branches into arrows. The Edan traded these bows with the Luxuns, the finest longbows known to the world, but she refused to say what they traded for. He would’ve dismissed her words as over-stated pride in another time and another place, but here in the Eleris he spotted so many spectacular sights he took every word she uttered as truth.

  In the evening of the second day the real marvels appeared. It took a moment for his eyes to discern what he saw: Three ancient oaks twined together, two forming the core, while the third circled upward forming a spiral stair that disappeared into the canopy. The growth of the trees formed platforms and catwalks connecting the forest, hollows and windows lit by soft lights. When he asked, all Lelishen said was “Life-sculpting.” Caught up in the surrounding wonder, the brevity of answer wasn’t as irritating as it might’ve been, considering he hadn’t a clue what she meant.

  Glowing stones hung from branches, lighting areas of the canopy in whites, yellows, and blues day and night, often highlighting sculptures from living wood. One stood out: A string of warriors on horseback, detailed down to weapons and distinctive faces, looked as if magic might’ve turned real people and animals into trees. On the ends cantered two horses, their riders unfinished as the trees continued to grow with branches sprouting into arms.

  The art was spectacular, but forgotten, when they reached the Crowning Tree. He stood with arms limp at his side and stared, mouth open to speak but neither air nor words escaped.

  Solineus couldn’t decide if it was one tree or a thousand grown together and spiraling into the sky. He guessed it over four hundred feet tall, no higher than many of its neighbors, but its girth astounded him. Even several feet from the ground the diameter of the tree was over fifty paces, and it mushroomed into the ground, creating a base only the gods could uproot.

  The bark and leaves emanated with a soft glow, not dissimilar to the Edan themselves. Even as they approached after dark, the lit leaves displayed silvers and golds, and a variety of greens depending on how they shifted in the greater radiance of the heart of the Eleris.

  He turned to Lelishen. “Life-sculpted?”

  “No one has such skill. The Crowning Tree has stood as you see it for as long as we know.”

  “A creation of the gods.”

  “Perhaps. They say there are two Crowning Trees, one here, the other in the Father Wood.”

  Elerean, the Father Wood. Solineus knew the word, but hadn’t a clue how it related to the Eleris. “Where is the Father Wood?”

  “Not here.” She smiled. “It is a place like your Seven Heavens.”

  “What of your hells?”

  “There is only the Father Wood.”

  “No hells…. that’s a pleasant change.”

  The skiff glided into the dock with a gentle bump and their current tamer stepped from the boat; the skiff floated steady, without a dip or bob, as the current tamer disembarked, as if he weighed nothing.

  Lelishen took the lead once on the dock. “I don’t know who we’ll be meeting. I’d expect the Lord Chancellor of Knowledge to be there, beyond that we’ll wait and see. Just remember to keep your wit under control. And don’t let slip your memory loss, the fewer mysteries we stoke the better.”

  He grinned. “Will we gain an audience with your king?”

  “The Father of Ages? No.”

  The Volvrolan and Volvrolis, the Father and Mother of Ages. His memory of Edan particulars were slippery.

  They entered the Crowning Tree through an arch of Life-sculpted wood. There wasn’t a single guard, but he chided himself for thinking of such a thing. Any guards would be ceremonial this deep in the Eleris, from everything he’d seen there wouldn’t be a point. The Edan ruled in a manner so absolute and with such power a foreign assassin was liable to make it no closer than Eleris proper.

  Blue sunstones lit the passage within the tree, illuminating the hall as it split in two directions. The interior path led to a door, while the exterior route took them to a winding stair wide enough for a trio. Dark bark covered the light wood of the steps like a runner, grabbing the souls of his boots with crisp traction, while the walls were bare without a hint of a sliver. Lelishen slowed her pace to save his legs and breath, but still moved faster than most folks would consider. Oval windows marked every ten feet of their climb, revealing glimpses of other lit windows in distant oaks.

  The stairs were steep and his thighs burned; he’d hate to be an invader who made it this far. “How long will our wait be?”

  “If the Edan make you wait, you have lost before the argument began.”

  He chortled under his chugging breath. “That’s encouraging.”

  “The representative will have been waiting for us. They don’t sleep and have the patience of a boulder.”

  “No sleep, sounds like torture worse than these steps.”

  “Life-sculptors will meditate for years on a single sculpture without moving, without eating or sleep. We’re almost there.”

  He almost muttered horseshit under his breath. “How the hells… no food?”

  “The Edan may sustain themselves with the energy of Life flowing all around us. The sooner you accept the Edan as beyond your understanding, the better you will understand them.”

  “You’re sounding like the Touched.”

  She giggled as she stepped from the stair to a balcony where a closed door stood with hinges sprouting leaves. “Catch your breath a moment.”

  He took a single gulp of air and exhaled, shaking a nervous chill from his shoulders. “What if I’m not cut out for diplomacy?”

  “The Edan won’t take to your humor; they appreciate straight words. If you can handle that without insulting them you’ll do fine.”

  “No humor, no insults, what the hells am I left with? I’m ready.” The hells he was, but he didn’t have a choice.

  The door swung open, and he squinted. Lelishen said, “I told you, we’re expected.”

  They stepped from the dim light of sunstones into a wooden dome of polished, burled oak lit by brilliant Light that left the room without shadow. Blinded, he looked down, and the floor stole his breath; a complex mosaic of angled and rounded patterns in a variety of natural hues, but the polished sheen showed not a single seam. Like so much in the Mother Wood, the Edan formed the wood without ever cutting it. When his eyes adjusted he saw three Edan standing, and a single Trelelunin man. There wasn’t a chair in the room. Do these people ever sit?

  Lelishen’s eyes lit, “Glim!” The Trelelunin strode across the room to each other with broad smiles and clasped in a hug. “I feared… When I heard of the Resting Winds.”

  “The wounds were grievous, but I recovered so I might see you again.”

  Solineus scolded himself for his piqued jealousy. Of course she had a man in the Eleris. Who the hell was he except some human?

  Lelishen nodded to Solineus and marched to stand in front of the Edan. He joined by her side.

  “I present Solineus Mikjehemlut of Clan Emudar. Our esteemed host stands in the middle.”

  The Edan blinked once. “Fesele Lesedreden, Lord Chancellor of Knowledge. But the true host is to my right.”

  Solineus glanced to the man. He differed from any Edan he’d seen; the first to dress the part of a warrior. He carried a Latcu hilted sword at his hip and wore what might be silken armor that shimmered in the light. Piercing silver and blue eyes passed judgement on him. “Inslok Harveredanj, Sword to the Father of Ages.”

  The title brought sweat to Solineus’s pits. The name and title weren’t familiar, but it didn’t take a genius to understand that the king’s sword was the final broker of peace here.

  Fesele said, “And to my left.”

  This Edan smiled, which got his attention; it was the first he’d seen from these people. �
�Limereu Lesedreden, sister to the Chancellor.”

  Solineus could hear the jerk in Lelishen’s body and turned to see her eyes wide. She said, “Limereu?”

  The woman rolled her eyes just a touch, another emote he hadn’t seen since meeting these people. “I’m as surprised to be here as you are to see me, I promise. But that story is not for foreign ears.”

  Lelishen nodded. “Of course.”

  Solineus cleared his throat, not for effect, but because he was choking on confusion. “I am honored with the blessing of meeting in the Mother Wood.” He bowed to each. No one introduced the Trelelunin, it was like the man was a footnote in a thick tome.

  Fesele asked, “What is it you seek?”

  “I’m here to beseech the aid of the Edan on two counts. Lelishen has told you of the situation on Kaludor?”

  Inslok said, “We are aware.”

  “First, as a representative of our people we ask for asylum in the Blooded Plain, and support for our safe passage from the lands of the Hidreng and their allies of the Hundred Nations.”

  Fesele spoke in monotone. “Such an arrangement would stress our relationship with our neighbors and the treaty which keeps the peace.”

  Solineus took a sharp breath before his first gambit. “The Nations are powerful, I understand your hesitance to anger them, but we’re talking about tens of thousands, many women and children.” Whether his words insulted them, or as he hoped, spurred to defend their own strength, they didn’t show a godsdamned twitch of either.

  “And your second request?”

  “We ask for your knowledge of the Shadows of Man and their mother, and beg any assistance available.”

  Inslok asked, “You would have us go to war for your people?”

  Hells yes I would, if it stood a chance. “No, the Silone fight their own wars the best we are able. All we ask is peace with the Tek so we might fight the greater war.”

  “Humans are proud of their brave words.”

 

‹ Prev