by F M Andrews
A woman stepped up onto a small platform and raised her arms and silence descended. Bhan informed the girls that she was this circle’s elected gathering leader.
“Welcome one and all to this circle’s gathering. Although we are still one clan short, I think that if there are no objections, we can still begin the festivities,” she called in a loud clear voice. A cheer erupted that quickly muted again when the speaker moved her hands in a damping down motion. “Tonight we dance and tomorrow we compete. Enjoy!” The cheer was twice a loud this time, almost drowning out the musicians who had launched into a joyous jig. Up until now, the fact that there was no alcohol on this world had not been noticeable but, for the first time, its absence struck the twins. These people did not know what they were missing and, if anything, they seemed to be having more fun without it.
Ela nudged Ema and indicated, with a nod of her head, a group of young adults their age talking over at the edge of the firelight. It looked as if a serious business was being discussed, piquing their curiosity, and as unobtrusively as they could they drifted towards the group until they were in range to eavesdrop on the conversation. It wasn't hard, these young people were very excited about tomorrow and were practically shouting their thoughts.
“Serves the bastard right if he is not here by tomorrow and they run the race without him. He is always bragging about how fast his boat is but, so far, it is all just hot air.” This statement from a boy with particularly bad acne was greeted with general agreement from the rest.
“I can’t prove it, but I am sure he cheats somehow, and even so, he still never manages to win.” This came from an attractive, slight-framed girl with pigtails. Her audience nodded in silent agreement. The twins were intrigued. Who was this person that everyone loved to hate? They crept closer.
“There you are!” Ralta’s voice and thoughts broke into their concentration. “I have been looking for you. There are several of my birth clan I would like you to meet.” It was no good, they would just have to wait until tomorrow to see who the conversation they had overheard was about.
The next day dawned fine, without a cloud in the sky and the twins wolfed down their breakfast and headed down to the lake as Ralta had said that the yacht races were to start there by mid-morning. Apparently there were several races, all for different ages. Obviously, the girls would not be competing at this gathering as they were still novices yet that did not stop them wanting to find out as much as they possibly could for next time. Ralta had asked them if they wanted to enter in the under-ten circle children’s race but they had declined. They were not sure if their pride could survive the blow of losing.
Several yachts were arriving, carrying complete families. Upon landing, picnic baskets, blankets and shade umbrellas were handed down and then the yachts were taken off to the starting line where they came to earth once more, this time in their designated starting positions. Young children were given their last instructions, hugs and encouraging back slaps from nervous parents. The girls were sitting on a slight rise that gave them an excellent view of the whole course and had just settled in when Ralta and Bhan came to join them.
“Pity the Cloud clan have not arrived yet. I hope they won't miss the whole day's festivities,” Ralta mused. Ela and Ema shared a knowing look.
“Somehow I don’t think they are too far away,” Ela whispered her thought to Ema. The shard’s pull was now almost unbearable and they kept scanning the horizon off towards the rising sun, expecting to see the missing flotilla coming into view at any moment. There would soon be no escaping the shard and the guilt that came with it. All in all, its imminent arrival had taken the shine off the morning; however, there was nothing the girls could do about it. At least when this gathering was over they would all go their separate ways again and they would not have to deal with this reminder of their failure until the next circle’s event.
The crowd hushed as a woman with a red flag stepped up onto a box. All the yachts were lined up and the children poised behind an unseen line in the grass, eyes intently fixed on her. The flag dropped and the children raced towards their craft, unfurled their sails, levitated, turned to catch the wind and, like pigeons released from their cages, flew eagerly off along the lake shore.
“The young ones only go to the first bay and back,” Ralta informed he twins. “The older children go a quarter of the way around the lake and back and the young adults and seniors race all the way round.”
The yachts grew smaller as they tacked off into the distance and people brought out their spyglasses in order to keep track of them. Commentaries on their progress was relayed until the word came that they had turned and were on their way back. Excitement built as the children came closer. It was possible to see individual faces now. The twins were rooting for Kaka, a small boy from the Falcon clan, and at the moment he appeared to be in the lead. The crowd started cheering and the tension mounted. It was going to be close. A girl from another clan was in hot pursuit.
Ema and Ela silently urged Kaka on, their whole concentration on the small boy flying towards the finish line.
“Look!” someone suddenly shouted, pointing, incomprehension strongly colouring their thoughts. All heads turned to see what was so important. At first Ela and Ema couldn’t see why everyone around them was so shocked. All they could see was a yacht making its way over the lake towards them but then they noticed its trajectory. It was aiming directly at the race finish line, it was flying fast and it was flying low. Every person in the crowd stared in disbelief. The twins held their breath like everyone else, not daring to take their eyes off the scene unfolding before them. Who was that fool?
The children, intent on their race, did not see the impending collision until someone screamed. Chaos erupted as the young racers desperately tried to avoid a crash. Yachts tipped, spilling their sailors onto the ground and, losing their means of levitation, the boats fell from the air to skid across the grass. Two yachts turned towards each other in the panic and collided mid-air. The thud could be heard even from where the twins stood. The speeding yacht, however, did not deviate from its course or even seem to acknowledge the carnage it had caused, instead it screamed across the course and vanished behind the parked ships. Ema and Ela stared at each other, their hearts sinking. There was absolutely no doubt in their mind that whoever had been in that yacht was the shard’s host. They had arrived, and they were trouble.
“Bloody Cloud clan, think they are a law unto themselves!” Ralta huffed as they ran towards the mess that the yacht had left in its wake. Children were crying and boats were being righted, but by some miracle, apart from a few bruises and scrapes, no one was badly injured and no craft was broken beyond repair. It was completely bewildering for the twins. What had the shard bearer been thinking? One thing was certain, there would be repercussions. No one could be so reckless and go unpunished.
By the time things had been set to rights again the rest of the Cloud clan had arrived, sedately floating across the lake and coming to rest in their designated space in the circle. One of the fathers whose child had been involved in the incident stomped angrily towards the race official. The twins could not hear what was being said but a lot of arm waving and angry pointing gave them a clue. Racing was postponed and the crowd returned to the ships to try and sort this mess out.
It was immediately obvious to the girls who the culprit was as they stepped off their yacht and joined the throng. He was standing, seemingly unconcerned, surrounded by a sea of angry faces and yelling voices. He was tall and rangy with the same blond hair and violet eyes as everyone else, dressed in flying leathers and his distinguishing feature was a large, ornate belt buckle. Ela started. She could not take her eyes off it. There was no doubt. There in front of her was the shard, gleaming softly in the morning light and unfortunately it had been worked into this horrible man’s buckle.
How could this piece of work be the shard bearer? Didn’t Errin say that shard went where it would find joy and happiness? The little Ela
had seen of this man was enough to make her sure that these were not words most people would associate with him. He stood there, totally ignoring the accusations being thrown at him, instead looking around as if searching for someone. Ema and Ela crept closer and focused on his thoughts. On the surface he was concentrating on being staunch. He had been tweaking an adaption he had installed in his racing yacht and had not noticed that he was on course to collide with the race finish. He only looked up once he had passed. He appeared to not care and did not see what the fuss was all about. So some kids took a tumble. Didn’t everyone when they were learning? It was part of the whole experience wasn’t it? Besides, it was not like it was important. It was only a kids’ race after all, and a heat at that. He could see that to get out of this stupid situation, he would have to placate some angry parents but he knew this would not be a problem. He was confident he could talk himself out of anything. Besides, if the worst came to the worst he had his mother, the Cloud clan’s leader, to call on.
“Look, I am really sorry,” he began, trying to look as contrite as he could. “My yacht had a broken pulley,” he lied. “And I couldn't control her for a moment. I was fixing it when I must have flown over the race. I am sure we could we can run the race again and I will personally give the winner a chance to fly my beauty to the end of the lake and back.” He smiled, patting his impressively sleek racing yacht as if this promise was the most exciting gift anyone could wish for. The twins instantly hated him. What an arrogant arse. Just as well they didn’t have to talk to him, let alone try and take him back to Feld. Feld was better off without him.
“Who is that bastard?” Ela asked Ralta.
Sighing heavily, she replied, “His name is Pritt and he is the only child of Sepen, who is the leader of the Cloud clan. His father was killed by a rogue storm when he was very young and his brother died two circles ago. Since then Pritt has been the object of Sepen’s devotion. He can do no wrong in her eyes, and she is a powerful woman in charge of a powerful clan. People that cross her have a strange way of finding trouble,” Ralta finished ominously, as they drifted away from the slightly more mollified crowd.
The rest of the day was full of races and archery competitions and by the evening the under ten and under fifteen circle age group champions had been crowned. Tomorrow was the young adults’ events. As the sun set the centre circle began to fill once more. It was a joyous occasion full of good food, music, dancing and smiling faces, the trouble from the morning forgiven if not entirely forgotten. The gathering was obviously the highlight of the circle for these people and the girls felt glad that they had arrived in time to be part of it.
It was interesting to be an observer, and they watched clans intermingle, catching up with family and here and there a romance or two could be seen blossoming. Ela and Ema found it hugely amusing to listen in on these new couples’ thoughts. Ela couldn’t suppress a giggle as she mind read the thoughts of a poor boy who was fervently hoping that his embarrassing erection would not be noticed by the beautiful girl he was talking to.
“Must be hard to be a guy,” Ema quipped causing Ela to lose it completely, giggling uncontrollably as they stumbled away.
Sobering up once more, they decided to go and see if they could take a peek at Mr Jerkoff’s thoughts. This was the name they had bestowed on the shard’s host. Scanning the crowd they spied him sitting on a table in front of his clan’s flag ship, his home they presumed, legs swinging, hands gesturing as he talked to a captivated audience of young men and women.
“I feel really bad about today and if I could take it back I would but it was just one of those terrible coincidences. Although,” he paused here to make eye contact with his audience. “I hope that Kaka’s ride in my beauty made up for it in some small way,” he concluded, smiling condescendingly at the surrounding faces.
“I heard that you shot two birds with one arrow,” a young man asked. To their surprise, the girls picked up from the questioner’s mind that he had been set up by Mr Jerkoff to ask this at a pre-arranged signal.
“Living up to his name, I see,” Ela joked.
“Yes, I did. It was one of those strangely fluky things,” Pritt answered, settling in to tell the tale. “I knew as soon as the arrow left the bow that it was a good shot but I never, in my wildest dreams, expected it to take out two birds.” There was a gasp of wonder and possibly disbelief from those gathered. “No, it’s true,” he assured them. “Ask anyone from our clan if you don’t believe me but when the young ones found my arrow it had pierced two birds right through their hearts.” His audience was wide eyed with wonder; however, the girls could see behind his words and knew that he had rigged the whole thing, capturing a couple of birds early in the morning before everyone was awake and threading them onto his arrow to be dropped over the side of his yacht when the hunt was in full swing.
The girls also stared in wide-eyed wonder at his unabashed audacity. There was no hint of guilt at all; in fact, he was proud that he was clever enough to fool everyone. Mr Jerkoff deserved a thumping and the twins were just the ones to give it to him. Ema stepped forward, looking so young, so innocent and so very impressed that Ela found it hard not to burst into giggles all over again. Then, projecting to all, she let him have it.
“I can’t wait until the archery competition. It will be amazing watching someone so talented. You are a real inspiration to us all,” she gushed, smiling with ridiculous admiration up at the arrogant arsehole. His chest seemed to swell and he sat up a little straighter.
“Tell you what. Why don’t I give you a private lesson tomorrow? I am sure I can teach you some interesting things.” Both girls shuddered as they read his real intent. He was so sure of himself. He had no doubt that Ema would be so overcome by his charms that she would throw herself at him. Ema forced herself to smile shyly and simper, something she did surprisingly well for someone with so little practice, Ela thought.
“I am sure you could,” Ema replied, turning to leave, steering Ela before her. Once they were out of his sight they both collapsed into a fit of laughter.
“I think it might be an idea if I challenge him to a little archery competition sometime, don’t you? Ema thought. “What could be better than seeing him have his arse whipped by a girl?”
“Having his arse whipped by two girls,” they answered in unison.
Their glee was rudely interrupted by a low murmur of unrest from a multitude of voices punctuated by several warning calls and, looking up, the girls saw the cause. A large family boat was skimming low over the crowd, eventually coming in to land near the fire, scattering people like leaves in an autumn breeze. Angry shouts were hurled as the yacht came to rest and those aboard, the girls thought they were the Westwind clan judging by their sail, jumped down and stormed towards the Gathering’s leader’s ship. They were all dressed in ceremonial robes but the expressions on their faces and the way they marched so purposely towards their destination made the girls think that this was not a planned event.
Those gathered let them through but not without a lot of angry questions, which all went unanswered. There was no distracting the grim, determined group, and soon they reached their goal. The leader of the Westwind clan, a stout woman with a mop of blond curls, stopped before the leader’s flagship, placed her hands on her hips, puffed out her ample chest, and, thrusting her chin defiantly forward, took a deep breath and shouted, “The Westwind call a council meeting.”
Ripples of shock swirled outwards through the bystanders. Such a thing was unheard of. The girls were confused. No matter how many thoughts they tapped into the only thing they could pick up was concerned surprise. Ela spied Ralta off to one side and made her way towards her. Maybe she could answer their questions. It took a bit on manoeuvring and they had only just reached her when the gathering leader appeared at the bow of her ship, also dressed in ceremonial robes.
“You can only call a council meeting for life or death reasons. What have you deemed to be so important?” It sounded like
a formal reply to the girls, a protocol that had to be followed.
The Westwind clan shuffled closer together as if seeking support, yet their demeanour was still staunch. “As you know, it was the Westwind’s circle to harvest our branches,” the leader began. “When we arrived at the grove the trees bore scars of recent harvesting.” The crowd gasped. “Four branches had already been taken.” Cries of disbelief and protest erupted from the onlookers.
The gathering leader looked stunned for a moment before she managed to collect herself and proclaim. “So be it. A council meeting is called for noon tomorrow. All clan leaders please bring your travel books,” she ordered, looking visibly shaken before she turned and left the bow.
Ela and Ema were still lost, suddenly feeling like the outsiders they were. They had begun to think that that they were beginning to belong and understand this way of life, but this whole situation was mind-blowingly surreal. How could someone sawing a few branches be such a crime? Ela turned to Ralta questioningly.
Ralta, pale and tired, gave the girls and a sad smile that fleetingly eased her look of pain. Drawing them close, placing an arm protectively around each of their shoulders, she guided them to a quiet spot. “You both fit in so well that often I forget you do not know our story,” she began. “Long ago, our world was covered in huge forests. We could have our pick of trees to build our ships; however, as the storms grew more and more ferocious the forests began to disappear, until today there is only one grove left. It is situated in a deep, protected river gorge, not far from here, and, in fact, that is one of the main reasons we hold the gathering here. Our boats need wood for repairs but we do not want to kill the last remaining trees. So every year one clan is allowed to harvest two branches. This year it was the Westwind clan’s turn, and it had been a huge shock for them to discover that someone had already been to the glen before them. To take more than two branches is unthinkable, to take four branches when it was not your turn puts our whole way of life in jeopardy,” she finished, shuddering as if the very thought of it was too traumatic to think about.