Chapter 22|Changings
The moon was little more than a small, silver orb balanced on the tip of a distant mountain peak when Horgris led them into a large encampment. Groups were gathered around several bonfires in the midst of an open area surrounded by huts and tents. Shanis heard laughter, shouts and raucous voices belting out songs that were unfamiliar to her ear. As they drew closer, she could see that the people were obviously Monaghan. All had red hair of varying shades and were garbed in the same rough animal skins and dark, cross-hatched tunics as their leader.
They dismounted in front of the largest hut. A youth with a pitifully sparse beard took their horses. A young woman about Shanis’ age stepped out of the hut. Horgris spoke to her quietly, then motioned for Larris to follow him inside.
“Come with me,” the girl said. Without waiting for a reply, she led them over to the nearest fire. The people there eyed them curiously, but did not cease their merry-making. Chunks of meat roasted on skewers, and the girl pointed to them. “Eat,” she instructed, and walked away.
“Nice to make your acquaintance,” Allyn said with a smirk. The girl ignored him. He turned and said to no one in particular, “Where can a man get ale around here?” Almost immediately someone put a tankard in his hand. Soon, Shanis, Oskar, and Hierm were all holding large, frothy mugs. Khalyndryn declined the ale, but accepted a cup of wine.
Shanis took a sip of hers. It was warm and on the bitter side, but not all bad. She sat down next to Allyn. The ground was soft and damp, but it felt good after a night and day in the saddle. “What do you think they’re talking about in there?” She gestured with her mug toward the hut into which Horgris and Larris had disappeared.
Allyn shrugged. “Something boring, no doubt.” He took a long pull of his ale and stared at the fire.
Hierm sat down on her left and handed her a skewer of meat. She looked at it for a moment. “Any idea what it is?”
Hierm shook his head, and gingerly tore off a chunk of the hot meat. He blew on it a few times, then put it in his mouth. He frowned as he chewed. “It’s a bit tough, but not bad. I don’t recognize the flavor.”
“It’s snake,” Allyn said.
Hierm choked and coughed, spitting the bite onto the ground in front of him.
“Only joking.” Allyn took another drink. His expression was stoic as he stared into the flames.
Shanis laughed and leaned her head on Allyn’s shoulder. She looked at Hierm, who was on his feet, brushing the dirt off of his hose. “It’s all right Hierm. Sit down.”
Hierm looked at her, then at Allyn. “No thank you.” He picked up his mug of ale and stalked away into the crowd.
“No sense of humor, that one,” Allyn said, still staring straight ahead. “Has he always been like that?”
“In the last two days we’ve been waylaid by bandits, attacked by monsters, arrested, put in a dungeon, then rescued, only to be told that the bandits who accosted us are our friends,” Shanis said. “Surely you can forgive him if he’s not feeling himself.”
“I doubt he has ever had much of a sense of humor,” Allyn said. “He seems… touchy.”
“You would have to know his family to understand.” She had sometimes tried to imagine being raised by Lord Hiram and Mistress Faun, but the thought was too terrible to entertain.
Allyn seemed content to let the conversation end there, so Shanis returned her attention to the meat. She took a bite of the still-hot chunk, and chewed. “So what is this, anyway?”
“Highland rat,” Allyn said.
“Very funny,” she said, still chewing.
Allyn turned to look her in the eye. “I am not joking.”
Shanis punched him in the shoulder, and took satisfaction in the tiny wince he made. “I can’t tell when you’re lying and when you’re telling the truth. Should I be worried?”
“Everyone lies,” Allyn said. He stood and walked away, leaving his half-full mug of ale behind.
What had she said? First Hierm, now Allyn. Perhaps she should find Oskar and offend him. She looked around, but did not see him. As she was about to take another bite of the rat, or whatever it was, a chorus of giggles rang out behind her. She turned to look.
Khalyndryn stood a few paces away, her back to Shanis, surrounded by a small group of girls a few years her junior. She had changed back into her dress.
“She thinks she’s a boy,” Khalyndryn said, loud enough for Shanis to hear. “She wears boy’s clothes, she fights with the boys. My mother says she’ll make someone a good husband one day.” The girls laughed again.
Shanis felt her face heat. It was just like at home. Khalyndryn had not been too intolerable while they were on the road. Get her back to a semblance of civilization, and she was right back to her old tricks, holding court with a bunch of little girls who treated her like a princess.
“Do you think you could teach me how to make my hair silky like yours?” one of the girls asked. “I be trying to catch Granlor’s eye, but he no seems to notice me.”
“Well, I don’t know that your hair could look like mine,” Khalyndryn said, “but we will see what we can do…”
Shanis could listen to no more. She lurched to her feet, feeling dizzy. The ale was stronger than what they brewed at home. She wandered off through crowd, trying not to bump into anyone. She didn’t see Oskar anywhere. All the strange faces seemed to blur together.
“Here gal,” someone grasped her elbow, “dance with me.” Her ale fell to the ground and she staggered a bit as a young man pulled her toward a group of people who were hopping around in pairs to the beat of a primitive sounding drum.
She looked up at the young man. He was fairly handsome, though he could stand a bath. His beard was not too bushy, he had a pleasant smile, and he wasn’t angry with her: three points in his favor. Not quite believing what she was doing, she put her hands on his shoulders.
“I don’t dance very well,” she said.
“This one be simple,” he said. “You know how to use that sword you wear?”
Shanis nodded. What did her sword have to do with anything?
“Get up on the balls of your feet like you be dueling. Then, we hop around in a circle, and spin as we go. You understand, no?”
Shanis nodded, though she was not entirely certain she understood. Ordinarily she would not even consider dancing, but the ale had relaxed, if not emboldened her.
He led her in among the group of dancers, put his hands on her waist, and said, “Come now. Hop.”
Following his lead, she raised up on the balls of her feet and started bouncing. They spun to the left, all the while following the other dancers in a circle around the bonfire. By the second turn, she realized she was actually enjoying herself. The ale must have seriously affected her judgment.
“My name be Granlor,” her partner said. “What be yours?”
Where had she heard that name? Her thoughts were fuzzy. “Shanis,” she said.
“What clan be you?”
“Umm, I’m Galdoran.” Was everyone going to think she was Monaghan?
Granlor cocked his head and fixed her with an odd look, but did not say anything.
Another turn around the fire, and the drummer shouted, “And back”.
Granlor spun her in the other direction, and the dancers reversed their circle. “Keep you from getting too dizzy.”
“Too late,” she said. Her head swam, though the sensation was not entirely unpleasant.
“Would you be wanting to sit down?” She nodded, and he led her away from the fire. They sat down beside another pair who appeared wearied from dancing. Granlor introduced them as Jamnir and Calia.
“Have a drink,” Jamnir said, offering her a big earthenware jug. His hair was dark auburn, almost brown.
She took a sip and her mouth was immediately assaulted by the foulest taste she could ever imagine. She spewed it on the ground. “That is the vilest stuff I’ve ever tasted.”
The others laughed as Janmir took the ju
g back from her.
“It be called skok”, Granlor said. “Has a flavor all its own, it does. No everyone can handle it.” He smiled and patter her on the shoulder.
. “It took me by surprise, that’s all.” In her condition, Shanis was not about to refuse a challenge. “Let me have another taste.” She took another drink, a small one, and held it in her mouth. The second drink wasn’t as bad as the first, though it certainly didn’t taste good. It had an earthy taste, as if the water had been filtered through peat. She swished it around her mouth and swallowed. It burned all the way down, warming her entire body, but she managed to keep a straight face.
“Skok be the only thing good that come from Malgog.” Granlor gritted his teeth as he made the concession. Jamnir grudgingly added his agreement.
“What he be doing with her?” a girl’s voice cried. “That girl in the boy’s clothes?”
Shanis turned and saw Khalyndryn standing with one of the girls she had been talking with earlier. Now she remembered. Granlor was the man whose attention this girl had been trying to attract. The girl whirled and stalked away, with Khalyndryn hurrying behind her.
“Rinala,” Khalyndryn called as she hurried away. “Wait for me. I am sure it’s just a misunderstanding. He couldn’t possibly prefer…”
“She never be giving up,” Granlor said, shaking his head. “I be no interested. She be too much trouble for me, that one.” He took another drink of skok.
“Trouble in what way?” Shanis asked. Her throat was a touch raw from the skok.
“It no be her that’s trouble,” Calia said, an odd tone in her voice, “so much as it be her father.”
“Let us no talk about that,” Granlor said, taking Shanis’ hand. “You be wanting to take a walk?”
Shanis thought she knew what he meant by ‘a walk’, and she wasn’t interested. “Actually, is there somewhere I can go? I need to...”
“I’ll take you to the pits,” Granlor said, rising.
“No, let me take her.” Calia gently took Shanis hand from Granlor and led her away.
“Thank you,” Shanis whispered when they were out of earshot. “Granlor seems nice enough, but…”
“We girls must be looking out for each other, no?” She was pretty, with broad, pleasant features and blonde streaks in her light red hair. “Granlor no be too bad, but he do move quickly sometimes.”
Shanis spied Allyn seated nearby, chatting with a plump young woman. He was even smiling. “Granlor isn’t the only one who moves quickly,” she said, hurrying past before he noticed her.
“Why so sour? Oh, I see.” Calia shook her head. “You do fancy him.”
“No I don’t.” She didn’t want to think about Allyn.
“I no be asking a question,” Calia said. “You no be worrying. Sometimes it be taking them a while to know what be good for them.”
Shanis decided to change the subject. “How long have you lived here?”
“A long time,” Calia said, “It be several moons that we be in this place.”
“That doesn’t seem like a very long time.”
“In Monaghan, we no be staying in one place for too long. But this place be close enough to Karkwall that the Malgog,” her facial features tightened as she said the name, “stay away.”
“I have lived in the same place all of my life.” The words seemed to constrict her throat as she realized that the statement was no longer true. Could she truly say she had a home anymore? Between the homesickness and the drink, she felt like she could cry.
“We hope to be staying here for a while.” Calia seemed not to notice Shanis’ sadness. “Over there, they be building a stone meetinghouse. We no have many permanent buildings.”
Shanis looked in the direction the girl indicated but paid little attention to the waist-high stone wall that would someday be the meetinghouse. Instead, she stared in utter disbelief as she watched Rinala lead Hierm into a nearby hut and draw a heavy skin across the doorway.
“What be wrong?” Calia asked.
“I have to go.” Shanis pushed the girl away, not too roughly, she hoped, and hurried blindly away from the huts. Away from Hierm. Tears filled her eyes. Where was Oskar? She needed a friend.
A cool mist had descended upon the camp as full night came upon them, and she wandered half-blinded by fog, smoke, drink, and tears. She wanted to go home. She missed her father. She missed Yurg and Anna. She missed Seventhday market and sword practice and her horse and lying on the big rock by the river…
“Shanis, are you all right?” Someone grabbed her by the arm and turned her about.
“Larris, I…” The stream of tears became a torrent. Some remote part of her brain now resented Larris even more for having seen her like this, but she couldn’t stop crying. She laid her head on his shoulder and let her weight sag against his chest. He put his arms around her and held her up. He was stronger than she had realized.
“Did someone hurt you?” His voice was gentle, yet a note of menace lay underneath.
She raised her head. “No, I…” She didn’t know how to explain. Her sobbing had abated, and he wiped her cheeks with his sleeve. He was sort of handsome.
“Am I pretty?” she asked. Where had that come from?
“Yes,” he said, looking her in the eye. “Perhaps the prettiest girl I have ever seen.”
She stared at him for a long time, waiting for him to laugh, or add on an insult, but he did neither. The drink must have been in control of her tongue, because the next thing she heard herself say was, “Will you kiss me?”
Larris’ eyes widened for a moment, then he smiled. He moved his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, and leaned toward her.
Then he stopped.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I want to kiss you,” he said, moving his hands to her shoulders and stepping back a bit. “But only when it’s you who wants to kiss me.”
“I don’t understand.” First Allyn, then Hierm, now Larris. Was something wrong with her?
“Lerryn would take advantage of a girl who is too much in her cups, but I will not.”
Shanis could swear she saw regret in his face.
“Horgris has provided quarters for the night,” he said. “Let’s take you there.”
She wanted to protest that she was not drunk, but suddenly there was only one thing she could say.
“Larris, I’m going to be sick.”