Fire-heart (Tales of Alterra, the World that Is)

by C S Marks

“You were right, worthy guide, concerning my pride,

  For these unending sands are your native lands.

  As such I should heed the words of Sajid,

  Yet at risk of bad end I will see to my friend.

  Though it may cause hardship, I will not leave her.

  Look you now upon Gaelen, and believe her!”

  She truly laughed then, and for a moment he almost found himself liking her. Then she turned back upon her course, her eyes bright with resolve, and he was more afraid of her than ever.

  That night a very strange thing happened, one that not even Sajid could explain. As the Elves sat under the stars, they began to sing together. It was a song of grief and sorrow for the torment and loss of Elraen, and also a song of joy that her spirit had finally found release. Gaelen, Galador, and Nelwyn stood together, singing in beautiful harmony, and it seemed that all the desert creatures came forth and were silent, so that they could hear.

  Clouds had gathered over the tops of the tall stone ridges where they were sheltering.This generally meant nothing, as clouds in the desert almost never bring forth rain, but merely tantalize and move on. Yet, on this night, in the midst of their song, the Elves felt droplets of rain begin to fall. The cold droplets turned swiftly into large, heavy drops that fell hard, soaking the dry ground, collecting in the hollows of rock, making fine, shallow pools of unsurpassed sweetness.

  The Elves finished their song, the rain mingling with their tears, as Sajid capered ecstatically about. “Praise the Lord of Heaven, we are saved!” he cried. He continued capering like a child released from lessons, as the Elves looked on in wonderment. “Rejoice! Rejoice,” he cried, approaching Galador, taking his astonished hand and pulling him around in a circle before letting go and leaping away, still laughing. The Elves and Rogond looked at one another and shrugged. Then they also began to dance in the rain, laughing in spite of their sorrow, as the puzzled horses looked on.

  It rained nowhere else in the Ravi-shan upon that night. In the morning, as the Company prepared to leave, the very stones gave forth a bright array of color. This delighted Nelwyn most of all, for she had never before seen the wonder of the desert in bloom.

  Their spirits lifted as they rode back the way they had come. They would intersect their prior course before turning southward again, for Sajid had informed them that they would now need to make for the next oasis, a place known as the Chupa-jul, translated as “hidden water.” It was well that Finan was sound, as they could now make better time with only Eros double-mounted.

  Fima sighed as he was lifted onto Eros’ back behind Rogond. It was so much more pleasant riding with Gaelen, but Finan would not suffer anyone save Gaelen to ride him. In fact, he would not even suffer himself to be handled, for he had given his loyalty to her alone. Fima would now cling to Rogond’s midsection and suffer in relative silence. Rogond and Eros were not happy about it, either.

  Sajid had a bit of difficulty with Siva at first, and the suggestion had been made that Galador should ride her rather than Malvorn, but Siva was small, and Galador’s legs were long. He missed his beautiful silver Réalta, who had been so tall and swift, yet he patted Malvorn and praised his strength, trying to make the best of things.

  They had been two days on the track to the Chupa, having regained their southward course by half a day, when Eros began to hang back. He had been whinnying periodically since leaving the Sandstone, probably trying to call to Réalta, but it was unusual for him to lag behind. Rogond patted him, calling to Gaelen. “Is he moving well? He seems reluctant. Perhaps he is pained, or weary, yet I did not feel it so. What can you determine?”

  Gaelen studied Eros intently. “I see no sign of pain, but you’re right; he is reluctant. Perhaps we should stop and rest a while. We cannot afford to tax him, for we are not equipped to heal him out here.”

  Rogond agreed, and they stopped for an hour or two so that Gaelen and Nelwyn could tend to Eros. Fima was only too glad to have a respite from riding, and he stretched his stiff legs thankfully. Eros had learned to travel quite softly indeed when Fima was aboard, for the less he jostled the dwarf the more comfortable his loins would be at the end of the day.

  The Elves could find nothing wrong with Eros. He was a bit dry, but so were they all. He nuzzled Gaelen affectionately as she knelt to examine his legs one by one.

  “I can find no sign of ailment, Rogond, and in fact I wondered whether he is simply grieving. Yet I do not think so, in fact his attitude seems brighter than before. It’s a puzzlement.”

  “Indeed,” Rogond replied, stroking his lengthening beard.

  Sajid wanted to move on, and they needed to pay attention to him, for he knew the distance to the Chupa oasis, and they did not. Fima drew him aside. “Why do we not make for this place, the one shown here?” he asked, pointing to the map. “I have some difficulty with Hamir’s handwriting, but it looks like it says ‘Neela-jul.’ What does that mean?”

  In truth, it meant “blue water.” Sajid paled when he saw the map, for Fima had indeed pointed out a much more suitable stopping-point than the Chupa, but it was essential that they not go there. Sajid had made a plan, and that plan had not included the Neela. He had to bypass it in favor of the Chupa, whatever the cost. He appeared to study the map intently, considering, before he answered.

  “We cannot go to the Neela. The name means ‘dead-water.’ The water there is not suitable, as it contains salt. The Chupa oasis, which is only a bit farther, will satisfy your every need. He looked at Fima with a wounded expression. “Do you not think I would have guided you well, and directed you to the Neela, if it would serve?”

  “I would not ask that question of many here, Sajid, if I were you,” said Fima with a chilly smile. “Yet I suppose you would have done, for your own survival depends on your ability to guide well. I will trust you for the moment.” He stroked his axe-handle with a callused, almost loving hand, and Sajid took his point.

  He smiled and bowed, but his darting eyes would not meet Fima’s directly. “Please, Lore-master, it will be best not to mention the Neela. I will grow weary trying to convince the Elves that it is not in our best interest to go there. We will waste precious time in debate. If the stubborn She-elf decides to go off on her own despite my advice, the rest will follow her. We will be in quite a bad way if that should happen. Pray, do not mention the Neela—the Chupa is not far away.” Fima agreed, and Sajid smiled. Another strand of his web was glued into place as they turned back southward, toward the Chupa oasis.

  They had gone about another hour when Gaelen heard Rogond’s distressed call from behind her. Eros had stopped, and was now refusing to move. He stood in the glow of the rising sun, his golden body aflame with reddish light, looking as though he were carved of marble.

  Rogond patted Eros’ strong neck. “Come on now, there’s a good fellow. Why will you not move on?”

  Eros lifted his nose into the wind, turned his proud head, and whinnied so loudly back over his shoulder that Fima was nearly deafened. Then he shuffled his forefeet restively, and whinnied again, as Rogond steadied him. “Easy, now...easy. What is it? What have you heard?” Eros tossed his head, circled twice, and abruptly dropped to his knees as Fima let out a sort of startled squawk. Rogond dismounted quickly, bringing Fima with him, as the rest of the Company gathered.

  “Perhaps he has been drinking too much sand-water,” said Sajid with a worried look. “If so, then he is doomed.”

  “But he doesn’t seem to be in any pain,” said Nelwyn. She was correct; Eros was not in physical discomfort. He was, in fact, quite excited as he sprang suddenly to his feet. He jerked backwards, pulling free of Rogond, and ran as fast as he could to the north, calling loudly.

  “Eros!” Rogond called after him, panic in his voice. “What’s gotten into him? We can’t afford to lose him!” He turned to Gaelen. “Where has he gone?”

  Gaelen smiled. “Don’t worry, Rogond. I believe I know. Allow me to follow him, and all will be made clear.”


  Rogond looked curiously at her. “All right, but don’t go too far!”

  Gaelen released Finan’s head and he sprang forward like an arrow, galloping after the now-distant dust plume that was Eros. Soon the terrain obscured them, and there was nothing to do but wait.

  As the time passed, Rogond progressed from being concerned to being very worried. He paced back and forth as Nelwyn and Galador attempted to calm him. “Don’t worry about Gaelen,” said Nelwyn. “She possesses uncanny insights into the minds of horses, and she will return with Eros. Have no fear.”

  “But why is it taking so long?” said Rogond. “Eros is swifter than this. If she had caught him quickly, they would have been back long ago, unless they met with some peril, or something happened to Eros or to Finan. Perhaps Finan has gone lame again. If so, then Gaelen is in need with no one to aid her. We must go after her.”

  Fima, who was not patient by nature and who had been pacing along with Rogond, agreed. At least they would be doing something.

  Galador, who had been keeping constant watch on the northern horizon, suddenly gave a cry and pointed, his face alight with uncharacteristic excitement. Everyone looked to the north to behold the beautiful sight of Gaelen, Finan, Eros, and one they had thought lost to them forever. Réalta’s beautiful silver coat glinted in the sun as he made his way slowly toward them. Eros walked close by, urging him gently, following Gaelen and Finan.

  Galador cried out again in joy, mounting Malvorn and flying back to meet them. The rest of the Company followed as they could, and Gaelen needed to suppress a smile at the sight of Rogond’s long legs dangling below Siva’s belly as he approached. Their little pack horse, the one that they had gotten from the Kazhi, was still with them, and was now demonstrating his uselessness as a riding animal by dumping poor Sajid onto the ground.

  Réalta was in a bad way, but Gaelen had removed the arrow from behind his shoulder, where it had miraculously missed any of his vital organs. Galador had not known how badly he was hurt after his hard fall, but the Company had no time to find out. In truth, the fall had stunned him, and he had remained senseless for a time, coming to himself at last and struggling to his feet. Fortunately, he regained his wits before the scavengers got to him…almost. Someone had cut off his beautiful, long tail already.

  Once aware, he struggled to rejoin his friend Galador, guided by scent and Eros’ calls. Fortunately, his loyal friend had not given up on him.

  Gaelen’s face was alight as she waved to Galador. “See what our most perceptive Eros has found!”

  Galador leaped from Malvorn’s back and ran to his mount, embracing him and patting his neck. The shoulder-wound was painful, but it would heal if it did not fester.

  Even Sajid was happy to see Réalta, for he had not been looking forward to the prospect of losing Eros, and thus having to ride the pack-horse. He smiled, congratulating Galador on the return of his friend. “At the oasis we can obtain ointments and herbs that will heal him quickly,” he said.

  Galador nodded, still stroking Réalta, who nickered at him, nuzzling the pouch at his belt. This was too much for Galador. He turned away, fumbling for some dried figs, tears filling his normally stoic grey eyes. He gave one to Réalta, causing Eros to toss his head indignantly and demand the same of Rogond.

  “For the love of heaven, Thaylon, reward him!” said Gaelen. “Without his devotion and attention, poor Réalta would never have caught up with us. Now I am even happier that we diverted to tend to Elraen, for we bought time for Réalta to reach us. Devotion to a friend is always warranted, and is its own reward.” She looked meaningfully at Sajid, who lowered his eyes and bowed.

  “Too bad about his tail,” said Fima. Réalta’s tail, formerly long and lush, now barely extended past the bone.

  Sajid shrugged. “Someone in the Sandstone will have a fine new fly-whisk. Our friend Galador will need to purchase one, for poor Réalta will be at the mercy of the flies until his tail grows back. He’s lucky they didn’t just take it off, bone and all.”

  “Ah, well, a small price to pay,” said Galador. “There, there, Réalta. It will grow back. You are the most beautiful horse in all of Alterra in my eyes.”

  It was nearly two weeks before they reached the oasis, and it was indeed fortunate that Hari had provided them with many water-skins. They blessed the rain that had fallen so unexpectedly, for they had obtained enough water to survive the journey, but only just enough. Réalta drained three water-skins when Gaelen found him, for he had been subsisting on what he could sniff out from beneath the sand, and that was precious little. He had learned this trick from Finan.

  The others of the Company were afforded the luxury of chewing the succulent desert plants for moisture, for they could circumvent the sharp spines. Sajid had taught them which were wholesome and which would poison them. “Oddly, some of the poisonous ones taste the best,” he said.

  “That does not seem at all odd to me,” Nelwyn muttered. “That which seems helpful may hide poison beneath the surface. Though it may seem fair, it brings only evil.”

  Their guide seemed detached from them of late; he would not speak directly to Nelwyn, which concerned her not at all. This was remarkably different from his former behavior, when he would seek out her company and converse with her for hours as they rode. Nelwyn, who was very courteous and always wanted to believe the best of people, had seemed to enjoy his company, for he could be very charming when he wished to. Now she would not even look at him.

  Something had happened. Nelwyn was not forthcoming, and when Gaelen had gently attempted to draw her into revealing it, she simply turned from her, saying, “I would not care to discuss anything of Sajid.”

  Gaelen stood watch on that evening and, as Sajid drew near her, she spoke quietly so that only he could hear. He was rummaging in his pack when her voice, as clear and cold as the ice that hangs from the dark limbs of trees during a late winter freeze, drifted into his hearing. “I do not know what has passed between you and Nelwyn, but know this: whatever loathsome deed you have done, whatever unwholesome thought you have expressed, whatever unseemly sentiment you have conveyed has done more to open her eyes than all of my warnings concerning you. Look not upon her again as I have seen you do in the past, for Galador and I are ever watchful.”

  She turned toward him, her bright eyes hard. “You truly confound me, Cuidag. At times you seem trustworthy, yet I cannot escape the notion that you are simply waiting for your moment to strike. To what end, I do not know, yet you are waiting…I can feel it. We Avinashi are not easily beguiled, and we can see into the hearts of men. Do not make the mistake of doubting it.”

  She turned back to the watch, satisfied that her warning had been conveyed. She had thought to cast enough doubt in his heart that he would give up whatever mischief he was planning. Yet she could not imagine the darkness that ruled him, or the degree to which Nelwyn’s scorn had injured his pride.

  The Company would soon face great hardship in these hard lands, for Sajid would not be turned from his course, despite his fears. As the Company approached the oasis, a slave-trader named Castor took up his position at an appointed meeting place, for he had been promised a great prize. Sajid would deliver to him the most beautiful creature imaginable, all wrapped in silk, and both of their fortunes would be assured.

  Chapter 10: TRAPS AND TREACHERY

  “There is the Chupa oasis. You can just make it out there, to the southeast. We are about an hour’s ride from it.” Sajid shaded his eyes against the rising sun and pointed toward what appeared to be a collection of shrubby trees surrounding several low, white dwellings. Smoke curled from one of these, probably from someone’s morning cook-fire. “The oasis is larger than it appears—almost like a small town. There will be plenty of water, and we still have enough wealth to buy all that we will need for the next phase of our journey. Rogond, you should ask after your brother, for there are those who dwell in the Chupa who keep their eyes and ears open for news, and you may learn much.�
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  Rogond nodded. “We should go there at once,” he said, “for we must replenish our supply of water. Yet I worry about the people, and the manner in which we will be received. Is it possible that our troubles in the Sandstone have preceded us? We didn’t exactly take the shortest way here, according to the map.”

  It was a valid concern, and Sajid appeared to take it to heart. “That’s right…we were diverted from it by Gaelen, therefore it’s possible that word of our difficulties might have spread,” he said. “I will take the pack horse and fill our water-skins. When I return, I will have a better idea of whether your concerns are warranted. I am known here, and they will not object to my presence. I will learn what I may.”

  Gaelen turned to Nelwyn, speaking in the Elven-tongue. “If they know of him, and do not object, then the place must be a den of darkness. I don’t trust him to go alone. One of us should go with him to make certain he does not get into mischief.”

  “A good notion, and I agree,” said Galador. “Which of us is best suited to the task?”

  Rogond turned to Sajid. “The others seem to think you should not go alone. You may meet with peril and need protection,” he said. “Which of us would arouse the least suspicion traveling with you?”

  Sajid’s lip curled into a sort of sneering smile. “It really is most impolite of the Elves to speak in words that I cannot understand,” he said. “I know better. They are not concerned for my welfare; they believe I will betray your interests. Try to deny it!”

  “I won’t deny it,” said Rogond. “But my question remains. Which of us is best suited to accompany you?”

  Sajid thought for a moment. “As much as it pains me to say it, probably Gaelen. She can be almost completely hidden by garments, and it is not unexpected that a man will travel with his wife. Gaelen is closer to me in height than Nelwyn is. If you insist that I not go alone, I would choose her.”

  “What say you, Gaelen? Will you go with Sajid and aid him?” said Rogond.