by C S Marks
“You are made uncomfortable, and so you disparage me because I am different. Your discomfort is understandable, for right now I would so enjoy removing those smiles from your faces by demonstrating how the past thousand years have improved my skills at archery.”
Nelwyn moved to stand beside her, for she had likewise felt discomfited. “I would join you in that demonstration. I expect we could change their expressions very quickly in a few seconds. Alas that we cannot.” She sighed and shook her head, then settled down beside Galador.
One of the younger men approached Gaelen and offered her one of the brown woolen mats, inviting her to sit. She looked around, noting the rest of the Company already sitting cross-legged as the sutherlings did.
Rogond rose and stood beside her, entreating her with his eyes, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder and whispering in her ear. “Sit beside me my love, who is at least my equal in all things. Do not feel slighted; only remember that we are in their lands, and must learn their ways. They are what their land and their people have made them, even as you are. Sit beside me now, please, and be content.”
Gaelen drew a deep breath. “Merchants and shopkeepers,” she muttered. Then she sat beside Rogond and prepared to learn as much as she cared to of these strange people, with their strange ways.
Chapter 6: THE VOICE OF THE SPIDER
Hamir and his folk proved to be generous and entertaining, especially once Rogond revealed the nature of his quest. Finding a lost brother was a thing they could well understand. They shared their food with the Company, who were by now in serious need of it, and promised to provision them for their journey southward. Hamir was going north and then west when he reached the Ravani Road, for he had spices and silks to trade.
“Are you making your way as far north as Dûn Bennas?” asked Rogond, who would convey a message to Thorndil.
“No, my friend, we will venture only as far as the lands near Castalan. There is a fine market there.” Hamir considered for a moment. “Why did you not go there seeking your brother? There are some folk of good will who would carry back the news that you are searching for him…the only way you will have a hope of finding him is through such a web of words.”
Rogond looked down at his feet, abashed. “The truth, Hamir, is that I did not know of such a marketplace. Nor do I know anything of these lands, or how to go about finding my brother. I am beginning to realize the folly of my quest, for I don’t have the slightest notion of where to begin. I managed to lose my way even upon the Ravani Road, which, as you kindly pointed out, is the best traveled of all the thoroughfares through these lands.” He sighed and shook his head. “I would not lead my friends into peril, but it seems I’m incapable of keeping them from it. I did not find the water; Gaelen’s horse that was born of the desert did so.”
Hamir shrugged. “At least you had the good sense to follow him. You seem a fairly bright fellow, and you will learn quickly. Yet I must caution you that your search will indeed be difficult. Folk in these lands seldom remain in one place, save for those in the permanent settlements, and those are nearly all along the coast. Your brother may indeed be there, but he will be a challenge to find, even so. Why did you ask if we were going to Dûn Bennas? Is there some message that you wish carried?”
“I left a comrade there; he was too ill to accompany us further,” said Rogond. “I merely wanted to assure him that we are well, and I was hoping to gain news of his recovery, for he was none too hale when we left him.”
“Why did you not wait until he was healed? Is your brother in some danger? Is that the reason for your urgency?” Hamir, as with many folk of the Ravi, rarely considered anything to be of great urgency. Haste and lack of foresight often resulted in death in these unforgiving lands.
Rogond flushed, realizing that Hamir was right. It probably would not have made any difference to wait until Thorndil had recovered, but Rogond had worried about Thorndil’s age and ability to cope with this difficult journey. Once he had recovered, there would be no way to leave him in Dûn Bennas without hurting his pride, but this was not the only reason for Rogond’s reluctance to remain longer in Dûn Bennas. He looked levelly at Hamir.
“I stood before the grave of my father, whom I have never met, and swore to him that I would find my brother, who is lost. I sense that he is not just lost to me—he is lost to himself, and if I do not find him soon, I will never be able to bring him back. Does that make any sense to you?”
Hamir looked away for a moment, as though lost in thought. This strong, tall man, so full of good-humored intelligence, had never known his father? Hamir had difficulty imagining it. “Yes, northman, it does indeed. Far be it from me to disparage the actions of one acting on such a promise. Yet, I fear for you. You must acquire a guide as soon as you may.”
Rogond smiled. “And where would you suggest I find such a desperate soul, who would guide six inept fools for little pay?”
Hamir placed a hand on Rogond’s shoulder. “You may be inexperienced in the Ravi-shan, but you are not a fool. Still, it will not be easy to find a guide. We’ll see what may be done…I will do what I can to aid you. The way to Castalan is long, but there is another settlement to the south of here where folk of many races gather for news and trade. It is called the Sandstone. You should probably head there if you don’t want to spend months traveling to Castalan.
“My brother was said to be going south, to a place where no one would know his name,” said Rogond.
“Ah. Then the Sandstone might suit him better than Castalan would, anyway. One more word of advice—you will soon learn that women-folk in these lands do not act in such ways as your proud She-elves. They need to be covered and taught to be silent, especially in the Sandstone. That may be the most daunting of all the tasks before you.” He bowed before Rogond, then turned and went back to the water-hole, where his brothers and sons had prepared a fine meal for all to share.
The Company tried to gather as much familiarity with the ways of the desert-folk as they could in those few days with Hamir, and they learned many things of interest. For example, the sutherlings did not like or trust the anori-folk, and the anori-folk trusted no one, and the dark-skinned folk of the far southern coast were likewise not trusted by anyone, and so on.
Worse than Elves and dwarves, thought Gaelen as she sat listening to their tales. Since the Plague, temporary alliances had formed between certain tribes and families, but Hamir predicted these would most likely break down as the numbers of men swelled again. They would be fighting over territory in no time. The Ravi-shan was a colorful mosaic of Peoples, but there was little blending between them.
The Company also learned that the Elves would best be concealed from many of the Ravani-folk, particularly the sutherlings. Although their beauty and strangeness would inspire awe in some, they would be feared and even demonized by others. In some cultures, Elves were known only in legend, and were presumed to have never really existed. They were known as “Avinashi,” the immortal ones. If certain groups among the sutherlings learned that such beings not only existed but walked among them, it would challenge their system of beliefs, engendering suspicion and fear. They might likely wish to re-establish the belief that Elves didn’t exist by simply eliminating them. They would not be so open-minded as Hamir and his people, who were well-traveled merchants, and therefore better informed and more tolerant.
Hamir drew Rogond aside. “Conceal the nature of your Elven friends until you learn who you are dealing with,” he said, looking pointedly at Gaelen and Nelwyn. “Be especially cautious of them. There are those among the Ravani who will despise them for simply daring to speak their minds in the presence of men, never mind that they openly carry weapons and go about uncovered. They must both be instructed well, especially the smaller one. She is not so wise as the other, and her temper is high. You must be firm with her, Rogond.”
Rogond took Hamir’s point, but he could not resist saying a few words in defense of Gaelen. “She is wiser than you k
now, and will learn quickly. She may not like it, but to preserve the Company she will do whatever is necessary…have no fear.”
Hamir snorted. “She cannot alter her nature, Rogond. That is my only warning. Remember it.”
Hamir’s words troubled Rogond for the rest of the afternoon. Perhaps these southern lands were truly too dangerous for Gaelen to share with him. Perhaps he should convince her to return to Dûn Bennas, or even to go back north to the Great Forest with Nelwyn, and await him there. He did not have the slightest notion of how he would do that.
Later, as the sun set and the sky turned to sparkling indigo, Gaelen’s clear voice rose in song as she stood on the rim of the canyon, looking northward. She sang a song Rogond had not yet heard, written in both Aridani and Sylvan Elvish. It had come forth from her very soul, reminding Rogond of the reason she had left the Greatwood in the first place:
I am of the Woodland, ruon-an daras a d’oro
My heart in the Greatwood ever abides,
The Light of Creation we never beheld,
But the light of the Forest lives ever in our eyes.
Oh, long have we roamed where the swift arrow flies,
Defending our home and singing to the night,
We are thought by many less fair and less wise,
Yet the hope of the woodland rests in our sight.
Away from the Forest my path takes me now,
The Shadow is growing, and yet I must fly,
And though my heart yearn I forsake Tal-aruinnas
The Greatwood shall not hear my last Battle-cry.
Ai, canta-ainye ruon-dara, canta-ainye éarran,
Canta-ainye samratha, samratha éna Tal-arruinas.
Ai, canta-ainye fomyhar, canta-ainye geamrath,
Canta-ainye magláin, magláin éna Tal-aruinnas.
Am-ailges mair sàite-ath
Chon gorgon-deian, chon gorgon-deian.
O, sing swiftly of autumn, sing swiftly of spring,
sing swiftly of summer, summer in the Greatwood
O sing swiftly of harvest, sing swiftly of winter,
Sing swiftly of awakening, awakening in Greatwood
For I shall not abide here again until the Dark Horror ends,
Until the Dark Horror ends.
Where this path will lead me I cannot yet say,
Though I know that in darkness is where it will end,
If by taking this path I will safeguard the Greatwood,
Only out of darkness will I see her again.
I am of the Woodland, ruon-an daras a d’oro,
My heart in the Greatwood ever abides,
The Light of Aontar we never beheld,
But the light of the Forest lives ever in our eyes.
The Light of Elysia we have not yet beheld,
But the light of the Forest lives ever in our eyes.
Rogond knew that she welcomed the search for Hallagond, for it would draw Gorgon away from the Elven-hold. Once they had found him, she would return to the task that still lay before her. She would not allow foolish pride or impulsiveness to threaten her survival, for if she did, she would never see to the death of Gorgon.
Hamir and his family had not yet heard the song of the Woodland, and they became still and silent as it filled their hearts with yearning for their own homelands. When the song ended and faded away, tears stood in the eyes of Hamir and at least three of his sons.
In the morning, Hamir approached Rogond as he made ready to set forth again. “You say that you have little pay to give your guide, my friend, yet the song I heard last night would be payment enough for me were I not bound to my present path. Her song will prove to be of great value, for none will have heard its like. She is a stubborn, difficult, beautiful treasure…guard her well.”
It took several days to return to the Ravani Road, though the caravan moved with steady efficiency. The long-legged dromadin moved in a deliberate and stately manner, but the Company soon discovered that they could also move with speed if they wished, surpassing even the swiftest horse over short distances. In addition, they required less water than the horses, and were virtually tireless provided they were not overburdened.
The Company and Hamir’s folk each took advantage of the opportunity to learn as much as possible from their new companions. They sought shelter during the heat of the day, resting and conversing quietly together. The men marveled at the tales of the Elves, and their respect and wonderment grew, especially when they learned of Galador’s great age. They gained a better understanding of Gaelen and Nelwyn when they realized that, in Elven cultures, females could be hunters, even warriors, enjoying the same freedoms as males.
“It is indeed strange to us,” they said, “That you would risk your women in warfare, and allow them an equal share in the management of your affairs. Yet we respect your ways, which you are free to follow in your own lands.”
Hamir addressed Gaelen and Nelwyn, both of whom had warmed considerably toward him. “Here, my friends, you would be better served to conceal your fierce independence. Keep it in your heart, but do not wear it openly. I will give you gifts that will serve you well, if you will accept them.” He drew forth well-made garments of fine black silk, carefully showing Gaelen and Nelwyn how they should be worn, and they were soon attired in the manner of women of the southlands. “Now at least you will attract less attention,” he said, looking upon them with satisfaction.
Gaelen did not care for this attire, as it restricted her movements and limited access to her weapons. Though the silk was fine and would be both warm and cool to wear, she felt as though she had been wrapped in a black shroud. She looked over at Nelwyn, whose expression told of similar mind. Yet they could both see the sense of it, and the need for it.
Hamir patted Gaelen’s shoulder. “Wear them when you are among the Ravani. When you are traveling, you may do as you please. I suspect you will learn even to fight while wearing them if need be.”
“Why are they black?” asked Nelwyn. “Black is the warmest color…and the men are dressed in white.”
Hamir crafted his response carefully, for in this case the truth would not do at all. Women wore black because they were thought to be unclean. At last he simply said, “You ask too many questions.”
“I shall be dead very quickly if I try to fight in this bolt of loose cloth,” Nelwyn grumbled. “If I tried to draw my bow, I would become so entangled that I would fall to the ground in a heap.”
“You had best not be carrying your bow among the Ravani, Nelwyn,” said Gaelen with a wry look. She turned to Hamir. “Am I correct, O Teacher of Difficult Desert Ways?”
Hamir smiled at her. “You are correct. It’s better that you limit yourselves to weapons carried in concealment.”
“Ah! You mean weapons like these?” Gaelen leaped suddenly into the air and drew both of her long knives from beneath the silken wrap, casting them with unerring precision into one of the strange, tall plants that grew in that part of the desert. Festooned with spines that were like daggers themselves, they stood as tall as Fima; some even as tall as Gaelen. They bore no branches or leaves, just a plump stem covered with wicked barbs.
Hamir laughed, as did his youngest son Lamas, who admired Gaelen and had become fond of her. “Look here, and see what you have discovered,” he said amiably, withdrawing her knives from the strange plant. “You can get water from these. Come and see!”
Gaelen did so, and once she worked her slender fingers around the fierce thorns she felt the moisture around the wound. “Cut off a bit of the flesh, like this,” instructed Lamas, handing her one of the knives, while he demonstrated with the other. He took a section and squeezed the sweet juices into his mouth, then smiled with satisfaction. “Ahhh! The desert provides well for those who know her secrets.”
Gaelen and Nelwyn followed his example. The wonderful, slightly sticky juices would nourish them as well as cure their thirst. “Don’t count on finding many of these, for they are uncommon,” said Lamas. “You will nee
d to leave the road to find them, for those that grew near the main thoroughfares were taken long ago. Oh, yes, and I should probably mention that some varieties will make you quite ill if you consume them. If I see any, I will point them out.”
“That makes me feel so much better,” muttered Nelwyn. “Why does there always need to be an ‘oh, yes, and I should probably mention…’”
Gaelen chuckled at her. “Stop complaining and pay attention, for we all rely on you to advise us with respect to herb-lore. It will be up to you to know the good from the bad.”
She turned to Hamir. “We thank you for your gifts, but I would repay you. How may I serve?”
“You may sing again for us tonight. My sons will teach you a song of our land—Lamas is a fine singer, aren’t you, my son?”
Lamas blushed and dropped his eyes. “I am unworthy to sing in the presence of the Elves, father. You know it. Please do not ask it of me.”
Gaelen tried to reassure him. “It would please me greatly if you would sing for us, Lamas. I have heard the songs of men, and delighted in them. Your voices are fair, though different from ours. I thoroughly enjoyed listening to the warriors of Dûn Bennas as they performed their battle-chants while practicing in formation. I must insist that you sing for us, as I would not be deprived of hearing you. Until tonight, then?”
She turned and made her way back to find Rogond, intending to show him her new raiment. Lamas looked after her, his expression indicating that he would rather trip and fall on his own blade than sing in front of her, for it would probably be less humiliating.
When they finally gained the Ravani road, it was easy to understand how the Company had lost its way. The main thoroughfare had been blocked by boulders and debris, around and over which sand and loose gravel had drifted. The marking-stones had been moved, no doubt with the intention of diverting travelers onto the lesser road. This appeared to have been in place for at least a year, and Hamir shook his head. “We have not traveled this way in the recent past; someone has taken great pains to obscure the way. This trap was well laid; a stranger would not notice anything amiss, especially by dark of night. Bandits will sometimes use such deception to waylay travelers by turning them onto a less-traveled road. The bandits could then lie in wait…recall the point at which we passed between those rocky cliffs? If I were a wagering man, I would expect to find evidence of bandits there. They could remain concealed, and there was water within a days’ ride. Apparently the road didn’t provide enough victims, as we are still alive and were not attacked.”