Transcendence

by Transcendence [lit]

  All remained relatively stable during those weeks, with the village prepar­ing for the onslaught of winter. Just north of the Belt-and-Buckle, winter did not hit hard, but the To-gai steppes were of high enough elevation for the winter wind to bite.

  One day, the clouds gathering overhead with a threat of the first snow of the season, Brynn was going about her regular duties, bringing water from a nearby river, when she noted a commotion within the village, over by the stables. Sensing immediately that Runtly might be involved, Brynn dropped her two buckets and sprinted over, to find many Behrenese, including a fair number of soldiers and including Yatol Daek and Chezhou-Lei Dee’dahk, bringing out several of the pinto ponies.

  Brynn winced when she saw Runtly come out of the barn at the end of a lead, handled by a cursed Behrenese.

  She pushed through the gathered folk, to the front of the To-gai-ru line. ‘What are they doing?“ she asjseti a young To-gai-ru woman, Chiniruk, who was standing beside hen/

  „Yatol Daek thins the herd,“ the woman explained. „The chosen horses will be taken to Behren for sale.“

  Before Chiniruk had even finished, Brynn started across the short ex­panse of open ground, toward-¥atol Daek, who was directing the handling. He saw her coming, obviously, but pretended not to, continuing his stream of commands, including one to Chezhou-Lei Dee’dahk to return to his S1de - a clear sign to Brynn that he meant to incite her.

  „My horse is among the group on the left,“ she said, not waiting for an introduction.

  „The group on the left is leaving for the market in Dharyan,“ Yatol Daek replied, turning to regard her.

  „My horse is among - “

  „You have no horse!“ the Yatol snapped suddenly, the volume and inten­sity of his voice bringing Dee’dahk’s hand to the hilt of her sheathed sword and bringing many of the nearby Behrenese soldiers to attention. „By the terms of surrender, all horses are the property of Chezru Chieftain Yakim Douan. Learn the rules and your place, wandering Ru.“

  Brynn glanced over at Runtly, but only for a second, turning back on the Yatol, her rich brown eyes going narrow. „Runtly is my horse,“ she said.

  Yakim Douan glanced back at her, seeming rather amused by it all „Truly?“

  „Truly.“ Not a hint of submission sounded in Brynn’s cold tone.

  „Learn your place, wandering Ru.“

  „If this is not my place, then I will take my horse and be gone from here,“ Brynn replied.

  Yatol Daek gave a snort and a chuckle. „You have no horse.“

  „You are To-gai-ru,“ Brynn declared. „You understand the meaning. There can be no mistake here!“

  „Do not allow the mistake that I was born of To-gai-ru parents to bring any misunderstanding, fool. You have no horse. Now go back to the other peasants and be silent, before I lose patience with your ignorance.“

  Brynn turned to Runtly and gave a shrill whistle, and the horse reared and threw his head, tossing the Behrenese handler to the ground.

  „Desist, or I will have the horse killed!“ Yatol Daek cried, and when he looked again at Brynn, he looked, too, at her unsheathed sword.

  „Release my horse, Yatol,“ Brynn replied, but Daek was in full retreat al­ready, issuing a shrill cry.

  „Kill the girl! Kill the horse!“

  As she started to pursue, Brynn saw Dee’dahk coming in hard, her curv­ing blade out, spinning a vertical circle on her right, then working its way impressively over to the left, then behind her back and back out to the right again. Her charge came in perfect balance, that sword spinning effortlessly, and Brynn knew that in a fair fight, this warrior would be a worthy oppo­nent indeed.

  But this was not a fair fight, Brynn knew, for Dee’dahk thought little of Brynn’s fighting prowess. To the mighty Chezhou-Lei, Brynn was just an­other Ru, and unmounted. That did not amount to much in the Behrenese warrior’s estimation.

  So she came in hard and fast, sword spinning to the right, sword spinning to the left, sword always out too wide to deflect.

  Brynn kept her apparent focus on Yatol Daek, pursuing the man, but not really closing ground. She waited until the last possible second, until Dee’-

  A hk was upon her. Then, with muscles honed and balance perfected from 11 her years of bi’nelle dasada, the elven-trained ranger pivoted on her back and thrust out, one, two, three, her magnificent sword slicing through he layered armor and driving hard into Dee’dahk’s chest.

  The Chezhou-Lei stopped in her tracks. All about gasped in astonish­ment at the sheer speed of the strike, for none in To-gai had ever before wit­nessed the precision and straightforward attack that was bi’nelle dasada. Dee’dahk’s wide-eyed look was as much in surprise as in pain, Brynn knew. In truth, Brynn wasn’t sure that the warrior woman had even registered the fact that she was already mortally wounded.

  Mortally wounded, but probably still dangerous, Brynn realized.

  Brynn’s fourth strike was perfectly aimed, taking her in the heart.

  She stood there at the end of Brynn’s bloody blade for a long while, star­ing into the rich brown eyes of her killer.

  Then she slid back off the blade, falling to the ground.

  The reality of the moment, of the kill, hit Brynn hard indeed, but she pushed it away, having no time, and charged hard at Yatol Daek.

  The man put his hands up, begging her for mercy. „Take your horse, wanderer!“ he said, and he quickly called out to his soldiers trying to cor­ner Runtly, telling them to desist. „Be gone from here - I have no quarrel with you!“

  Brynn stared at him curiously, contemptuously. He was an appointed leader, but he was obviously a coward. So great a coward! Not lowering her sword, and not letting him slip away from her at all, Brynn glanced to the side and called to the pony, who came trotting over.

  „There, you see?“ said Yatol Daek. „I am not your enemy, wanderer. I am To-gai-ru.“

  „No!“ Brynn screamed at him before he had ever finished the claim.

  Yatol Daek put his trembling hands before him. „You cannot kill me and hope to survive,“ he said. „Please, get on your horse and be gone.“

  „No, fool,“ Brynn said, in more controlled tones, and she lowered her blade somewhat, and Yatol Daek’s hands similarly drooped. „You are no To-gai-ru.“

  „The religion of Yatol - “

  „This is not about the robes you wear!“ Brynn shouted. „No, this goes deeper.“ Runtly reached her then, and she pulled-the brown-and-white head in close and rubbed her cheek againstxthirsoft hair.

  No,“ she said to Daek. „No To-gai-ru/would steal a horse.“ The horses are the property - “ he started to protest, but Brynn wasn’t listening.

  No To-gai-ru would ever order a horse-slaughtered.“ When she fin­ished, she was still nuzzling Runtly, still seeming quite at ease.

  But then came that explosive thrust of bi’nelle dasada, so suddenly that Yatol Daek never registered the movement. His expression was of genuine astonishment when he looked down to see Brynn’s magnificent sword buried deep in his belly.

  „Damn you, and damn your new ways,“ Brynn said, and her thoughts went into the sword, then, calling forth the fire!

  Yatol Daek screamed in agony, and Brynn jerked the blade once and then again, the fine metal slicing him open, the flames consuming him.

  She tore it free then, and turned to see the many Behrenese and the many To-gai-ru, staring at her with disbelief.

  It didn’t hold, and the Behrenese soldiers howled and started to charge.

  Brynn went up to Runtly’s back, guiding him with her strong legs. She clenched her left fist, bringing forth the pulsing white shield of her en­chanted powrie bracer.

  She didn’t run off, though, but turned and galloped into the heart of the charging Behrenese line. Behrenese soldiers scattered before her; she ran one down, finishing him with a devastating chop, and let Runtly trample an­other to the dirt.

  Brynn charged back the other way, toward the home of
Barachuk and Tsolona. To her relief, the couple was waiting for her, throwing her the bow and quiver.

  The pursuit was halfhearted at that point, and Brynn could have taken Runtly out of the village easily enough. But the young ranger was far from satisfied. She slid her sword under one leg and took up her bow, charging back toward the Behrenese pursuit.

  A couple of enemy soldiers were up on horseback by then.

  Brynn smiled wickedly as she thought of the first major challenge Lady Dasslerond had thrown at her. She saw her enemies as she had seen the tar­gets that dark night in Andur’Blough Inninness on the torchlit field, and her aim was no less true.

  By the time Brynn Dharielle and Runtly charged out of the small village, her quiver was emptied of its twelve arrows and ten Behrenese, including Yatol Daek and Chezhou-Lei Dee’dahk, lay mortally wounded.

  A few arrows arched out of the town in her general direction, none com­ing close to striking the mark.

  Brynn pulled up a short distance away, turning to measure the danger.

  But no pursuit was forthcoming.

  chapter

  * 14 *

  As Graciously as Possible

  T

  he tribesmen of the southern steppes of To-gai, near to the Moun­tains of Fire, had never been true nomads, and so the intrusion of Behrenese conquerors had not changed the ways of these To-gai-

  i as profoundly as it had their brethren farther to the north. The northern slopes of the volcanic mountain range were so very fertile year-round that there was no need to wander or follow any herd. And there, far removed from Jacintha and the edicts of the Chezru Chieftain, and where the border­land between the two kingdoms was not so clearly defined as the barren sand to plateau steppe change farther to the north, many Behrenese and To-gai-ru had lived and worked in relative proximity for centuries. There were ven children of mixed heritage, though they were not common, and the practice had never been openly accepted.

  The only real difference since the conquest of To-gai was the presence of Behrenese soldiers, a single eight-square, traveling from settlement to settle­ment to tribe encampment, fostering many ill feelings among the To-gai-ru, and trying, obviously, to rouse the sentiments of the Behrenese in the re­gion against their Ru neighbors. Typically, though, as soon as the eight-square moved on, those Behrenese and To-gai-ru commoners who were left behind resumed their typical daily routines.

  Another thing that the Behrenese and To-gai-ru of the southern stretches had in common was a mistrust, even fear, of the mysterious order of mystics rumored to be wandering the Mountains of Fire, the Jhesta Tu. These reser­vations were amplified among the Behrenese, for the Yatol religion had long ago condemned the Jhesta Tu as heretics. Even among-the~To-gai-ru, though, traditionally more tolerant of other beliefs - since their own tribes rften varied in their respective deities - the Jhesta Tu hfad never been looked upon fondly.

  Into this environment, following the vision that had laeejXshown to him in the days before he had earned the Sash of All Colors, walked Pagonel, carrying a backpack of various colored threads and sewing supplies so that he could continue work on producing the Sash of All Colors for the next master to walk the path. Pagonel knew that he would be in somewhat hos­tile territory no matter what direction he took out of the Mountains of Fire but he had seen the truth, had experienced his Chi life force in a conscious and intimate way, and so he feared nothing.

  In the common room of the first village he entered, he felt the many stares focused his way, and since he spoke fluently in both Behrenese and To-gai-ru, he understood the many whispered insults surrounding him. But he let them slide right past him. They didn’t understand. How could they understand?

  The To-gai-ru proprietor of the common room served him as requested certainly not promptly! - though he charged more pieces of silver than nor­mal, Pagonel knew.

  „You offer rooms for the night?“ Pagonel asked him.

  The proprietor, a To-gai-ru, glanced around at the many patrons whose eyes were upon him.

  „Fear not, friend, for I’ll not even ask about acquiring shelter,“ the mys­tic said, letting the obviously nervous man off the hook. „The night will not be cold, and the stars are the finest roof a man might know.“ Pagonel drained his glass of water, smiled and bowed at the flustered proprietor, then turned and similarly saluted the rest of the gathering.

  He heard many whispered conversations, almost all derogatory, aimed at his back as he exited the building.

  At least they had not been openly hostile, and none, not even the few Behrenese in the room, had made any movements to challenge him. Still, Pagonel thought it unwise to remain in the settlement that night, so he went out to the surrounding forest and found a comfortable niche in a tree, set­tled back, and watched the lazy glide of the moon across the starry sky.

  He was gone long before the next dawn, walking north at a leisurely pace. He still was not quite sure why his vision had beckoned him out into the wide world, but he was curious about the continuing assimilation of To-gai-ru into the conquerors’ culture. Perhaps that was the experience to which he had been called, to learn more of this clash of cultures that was re­shaping the civilizations south of the larger mountain range. Perhaps there, where old traditions were being challenged daily, Pagonel might learn more about the truth of the world and about this life.

  That was what the mystic told himself as he wandered north. He never imagined that other, deeper emotions would soon be stirring within him.

  The mystic wandered for many days, enjoying the sights about him as the season changed to winter. He wasn’t overly concerned for his safety; he was Jhesta Tu and had learned well how to survive in the harshest of climates.

  He recognized the signs of an approaching storm - one that would likely he snow and not rain - one afternoon, at about the same time he saw the wispy 8raY lmes °f smoke rising from a nearby village.

  He crested a ridge, looking down upon the collections of mud and wood houses, the sun setting behind them. He noted a line of tethered horses - not the pinto ponies of the To-gai-ru, but taller mounts, chestnut and roan. Noting movement about the mounts, Pagonel recognized the white robes of a Behrenese man, then looked closer to see the crossed black straps over the man’s chest, showing him to be a Behrenese soldier.

  „This could be of interest,“ Pagonel remarked, and he strode down to the village. The stares that greeted the mystic, with his identifying Jhesta Tu tan tunic and sash, were identical to the ones he had felt upon him in the previous village. Except for the Behrenese soldier; when that man took note of Pagonel, his dark eyes widened in obvious horror, and he ran headlong, even tripping to his knees once as he tried to scramble inside the town’s common room.

  Pagonel went in soon after, to find a dozen soldiers, all adorned in the white robes with the black leather chest straps, staring at him hard. The mystic nodded to them, then moved to the long table that served as a bar.

  The scuffling of feet behind him told him that one of the soldiers had scrambled out of the room, no doubt to warn his superiors.

  „Long way from your home,“ said the innkeeper, a broad-shouldered Ru with black stubble on his face that seemed to reach all the way up to his dark eyes.

  „Not so long,“ Pagonel replied. „A week’s march and no more, if my pace is brisk.“

  „Them Behrenese dog-soldiers are going to think that you’re far from home,“ said the innkeeper.

  As he finished, Pagonel heard another scuffling, and he turned to see the soldier returning, glancing at him from over the shoulder of an older, stern-faced man who was dressed in Behrenese soldier robes, but with golden straps and not black, crossing his broad, muscled chest.

  He stared hard at Pagonel, who took care not to match that look, but rather nodded deferentially and tipped his glass of water. Then the mystic turned back around, facing the bar, and placed his cup down on the table.

  „What is your name?“ came the question behind him, spoken in To-gai-ru, i
f a bit strained in dialect.

  Pagonel sipped his water, making no move to answer.

  „You, Jhesta Tu!“ came a snarl. „What is your name?“

  Pagonel slowly turned to face the man, and the line of a dozen warriors nervously. The reputation standing behind him, most of them glancing about her tention of the Jhesta Tu preceded him, apparently.

  „What is your name?“ the leader asked yet again.

  „I am called Pagonel. And what is yours?“

  „I will ask, you will answer.“

  „I already have.“

  „Silence!“ The man narrowed his eyes, his stare boring into the mystic. „You mock me?“

  „Hardly.“

  „I am Commander of the Square,“ the soldier said in haughty tones.

  „And that is a source of pride? „

  „Should it not be?“

  „Should it be?“ Pagonel understood that he might be pushing a bit too hard, though all of his remarks had been offered in neutral, matter-of-fact tones, and all had been merely observations and not judgments. Or had they been? the mystic had to honestly ask himself. He reviewed his last few comments - while pointedly not locking stares with the infuriated Com­mander of the Square - and he had to admit that, while everything he said had been simple truth, it was also bait.

  „I am Pagonel, Commander of the Square,“ he said calmly. „I have jour­neyed from my home in search of wisdom and enlightenment, and with no desire for any trouble, I assure you.“ He lowered his eyes as he finished, which he believed that the prideful commander would surely view as a sign of peace and submission.

  Like a shark smelling blood, the man moved to grab Pagonel’s chin, to lift his head up that he could stare the sheepish mystic down. The com­mander’s hand never got close to connecting, though. Reacting purely on instinct, Pagonel’s own hand snapped across, slapping the commander’s hand back to back, and with a lightning fast twist and pull, Pagonel rolled his hand back, caught the commander’s thumb, and bent it back hard, throwing the commander off-balance, locking him low in pain.