Chapter II:
The Journey Begins
Long-Talk
Ereg and his sons approached Thure just a day after Dan'ereg disappeared. As was their custom, the older children made a count of those under their care and found that they were missing three. Two they found some ways off trying to light a tree on fire, but no matter how carefully they searched, they could not find Dan'ereg.
A runner was sent back to Sparka to summon the child's father. Ereg came at once and several other dwarves as well. A search was made, and the trail of Xan and Agonas was found almost without effort. 'Mm'hide,' Ereg said, negating the idea that his captors were trying to avoid detection. They knew the boy had been captured, they could see the prints and the battered grass where the men had struggled with their prisoner. They also could see that no attempt was made to hide their trail or to mislead those who might attempt to follow.
San' and Fas' followed the trail as far as the road, but Ereg had told them not to pursue their brother until they had learned more. There were only two possibilities as far as the dwarves could tell. They were either taken by the enemies of Sparka or by the men of Thure. 'North,' San said to his father. He did not need to say what lay to the north, his father already knew, and he already knew what San had gone to discover. 'Sparka,' Ereg said in a rough command, telling his sons and his wife, and all those who had come to help him that it was now time to return to Sparka where a definite plan could be made. There would be no sense in rushing after the boy; his captors would have made it back to the village by now, and haste would avail them nothing.
After briefly discussing the matter with the elder Kuhaf'Da, Ereg decided that he must make for Sparka and kill his son. No child of the dwarves should be held captive, and he and his family would not be held captive by scheming Coastmen who meant to bend their will to their own plans by holding their sentiments hostage along with their son.
Sparka was strong, and the Coastmen would learn that such methods were as useless as they were harmful. Harmful, Ereg thought, to the Coastmen, who would someday suffer for what they had done. But for that day more careful planning would be necessary.
'Stay,' was the only thing Ereg said to his sons as they drew near the wooden gates that marked the outer boundary of Thure. It was not quite a fortified village. There was a tall wooden fence built around the market square, and another wooden fence near the road. If someone meant to enter they would either have to climb over it, or go around it, either course serving as proof enough to those in the village that the intentions of the intruder were something other than friendly. Ereg was not a friend of Thure; he clambered over the fence several hundred yards from the gate in a place where he did not think there would be any eyes watching.
Although the servants of Agonas and the people of Thure alike were prepared and watching, they did not discover him until he had exhausted his search and come at last to the unpleasant conclusion that the child had been sent over the waters. As he made to slip out of the village he heard a voice say to him, 'Dwarf! Where is your child?' Xan stood just a dozen paces from him with Agonas at his side and with an arrow ready for flight. 'I am the master of this village,' he said, 'I am Adapnan - you know that I shall not miss if I loose my arrow.'
'Loose,' Ereg said, standing as tall as he was able and lifting his chin to expose his neck. His posture seemed to scream, 'If you would be so without honor, go ahead and shoot!'
'Dwarves are fools,' Xan accused.
Agonas could not believe how this man could go back and forth from perfect kindness and civility to utter cruelty in a flash.
Ereg made no sound and gave no sign that he had heard.
'Speak with us, dwarf, and none shall come to harm by our hands. Your child is on the Waters; but we shall recall him to you if you will hear us.'
Ereg tilted his head curiously.
Xan licked his lip thoughtfully, but kept his bowstring taut.
'I do not want gestures that can be mistaken, nor do I want grunts and half-words. Speak to us!'
Ereg shook his head once and grunted, 'Mm,' which Agonas took to mean simply 'No.'
'We will bury him in the Waters, dwarf. Is that what you wish for him?' Xan threatened. 'So mighty are the dwarves! They, for fear of words, sacrifice their own children! Coward! Gutless pig! Which is braver, dwarf?' Xan shouted boldly, 'the man who lets his son die for honor's sake, or he who sacrifices honor for his son? Who is greater, he who does right? Or he who does what is right for others? Coward!' he almost screamed this last word.
Agonas took a step back when he saw the anger in Ereg's face.
'Ereg'Da!' the dwarf shouted. 'Sparkaf!'
'Meaningless!' Xan shouted, pulling back even harder on the arrow.
Ereg's face was red and there was murder in his eyes, but Xan did not budge. Dwarves, as Agonas would come to understand, would not waste their lives no matter how angry they became. They were always keenly aware of the sundry paths set before them. Ereg knew that if Xan meant to kill him, he would be dead already. He also knew that charging him in a rage would bring certain death. The road - the course of action that led to life - was somewhere else. He sighed, and his face returned to its normal color.
'I'll make t' long-talk,' he said, indicating that he was willing to speak in a manner they could understand. The dwarves did not need as many words to express their ideas as human beings and elves. It was tiresome for them to belabor every point and state clearly everything that was obvious to them.
Xan lowered his bow as soon as Ereg had spoken, returning his arrow to its quiver.
Almost at once Ereg began to speak, saying, 'Me father, me mother call me Ereg. They're dead; so call me Ereg'Da Sparkaf. Who r'you?' he ended with a question.
'I am Xan,' the village elder spoke. 'This is Agonas,' he said, pointing to the son of Parganas. 'We need to speak to you concerning a quest.'
'Quest?' Ereg asked, his face filled with puzzlement. 'Dan'ereg,' he said flatly.
'Dan'ereg?' Xan said, his brow furrowed.
'Child,' Ereg said flatly, as if he were speaking to an utter buffoon.
'Ah, yes, Dan'ereg is the child's name,' Xan said comprehendingly, 'Come with us dwarf, and I will send for him.
A half hour later the three of them were standing in a circle in Xan's tent. Xan's servants had given it a thorough washing since Agonas had recovered and the whole space now had a flowery smell. Ereg stood as still as a statue with his neck lifted high to minimize the angle at which he must hold his face while speaking to the elves.
Xan's servants brought in a plate with a roast chicken and vegetables, most of which were of a kind Agonas had never seen before.
Ereg took the legs off the chicken with a firm twist and examined them carefully before taking a bite.
'The child will be here soon,' Xan said.
'What'yu want?' Ereg asked impatiently, his mouth still full of chicken.
'Beside me stands an Immortal from the Waters,' Xan said. 'He has come to slay the Beast of Kharku, and we know that none but the dwarves can guide him thereto.'
Ereg burst into laughter, a deep rumbling chuckle that seemed to have neither beginning nor end.
'I have come to slay the Beast,' Agonas said defensively. 'Laugh if you will, but I will find him.' Indra's fair face sprung into his mind, and his resolve turned to iron. 'I swear by all the gods and their thrones, and by the stars above and the earth below.'
Ereg's laughter ceased immediately at the mention of the earth. He suddenly became serious again, and looked closely at Agonas, studying him with renewed interest. 'For Dan'ereg?' he asked, tilting his head to the side questioningly.
'Do you mean, are we asking you to guide us in exchange for the return of your son?' Xan said amusedly. 'No, your son will be returned to you whether you will help him or not. Thure means no insult against Sparka,' he spread his arms as if to show that he held no weapons and no secrets. Agonas looked at him with horror, thinking the other man
was about to undo all that they had thus far accomplished. The look on Xan's face, however, seemed to reassure him that all was proceeding according to his design.
Agonas was not yet sure that this was a good thing.
'Why kill?' Ereg asked.
'Because I have been sent by my king to do so,' Agonas said. 'I have been sent by King Ijjan of the Golden Palace.'
'And riches unimaginable will be given to he who defeats this monster,' Xan added. 'And from that abundance shall his companions be rewarded.'
Agonas looked at him strangely, but said nothing. Ereg seemed to notice his doubtful glance. Staring straight into the eyes of Agonas he asked, 'Treasures l'come over Outer Waters?' The expression on his face said that he believed not a word of it.
Agonas looked at Xan nervously. It seemed that lying to dwarves was as futile as it was dangerous.
Xan spoke next, shrugging his shoulders and saying, 'Who can say anything with surety? Your name shall be honored forever in Kharku, and your tribe will gain great repute. Sparka's fame will be restored to the land, and the name of its warriors will be remembered by the nations forever, even in Turg and Fist, and in the land of the Five Kings.'
Ereg looked again at Xan and considered his words carefully. He seemed to be on the very edge of a great leap, unsure of what lay beneath. But after a while he said, 'Beast l'kilt by Sparka, or not kilt. We t' line of t' Drake-foes - who defeat't Yaha'Nai' he chest seemed to inflate with pride as he spoke. 'From t' Scars we strike't his hands, and the Great Fire flee't from t' earth. Beast is Drake'Ya, earth-son of t' Yaha'Nai.'
'You believe that the Beast is the child of the Great-foe?' Xan said curiously. He did not seem to believe what the dwarf was saying, but he was no less curious for his doubtfulness. Xan seemed to be interested in everything and for no good reason, Agonas thought to himself.
'You mean, the Dragon Thaeton?' Agonas asked.
Xan's face turned pale and, for a moment, he looked like one who thoughtlessly throws a stone into a cave and wakes a mother bear from her rest. 'I see the North has its legends as well,' was all that he said.
Agonas was just as inclined to receive such tales as legends, but he was surprised at how quickly Xan had brushed away this strange coincidence of histories.
Ereg did not ignore this coincidence. 'Beast call't Yaha'tha Jee'ya, which means "son of Thaeton". Outer Waters rule't by Yaha'tha Snaka'ya, skies rule't by Yaha'tha Ave'ya.' He spat after he mentioned this last monster.
Dwarves were lovers of the earth. Properly speaking they had no word for either air or water. Their word 'jee' served them just as well for all materials. The relative solidity of the subject was described not by a different word, but by a different tone. So the deepest sound they could make stood for adamant, or dwarf-steel, and the highest sound would stand for the lightest of things. They exercised enough control over their vocalizations to avoid confusion. The author of the Wars of Weldera stated that dwarves 'do not understand humor,' but this justly famous writer, for all his best efforts, very clearly never actually met a dwarf. When a dwarf speaks about air, especially about the very thin air of a mountain's top, he says the word 'jee' with a voice as sharp as that of a mouse, and it is customary for other dwarves to burst out in laughter at the absurdity of the sound. So whenever a dwarf speaks of the air - that thin and flimsy element - he is mocking it, and jesting. But the Yaha'tha Ave'ya, or the Fire Bird, as it is called elsewhere, is a mockery of the dwarves. That there should be such a beast, and that it should, in some manner, rule over even the Water Serpent and the Dragon's son, is a cruel trick of Fate. They cannot mention this great bird without spitting, cursing or in some other respect showing their disdain for the air.
Xan could see that some ancient spark of foolhardy courage was slowly kindling within the dwarf. He seized upon this quickly, and began to describe, almost poetically, how they might struggle against the Beast, striking blows against it with weapons of adamant, receiving mortal wounds to save their allies, and bringing the creature down at all costs, to procure for themselves glory both eternal and incomparable.
Slowly but surely Ereg's head began to nod in time with Xan's speaking. 'Enough,' the dwarf said at last. 'Time's an ending of things. Even t' Beast l'perish.' This is as close as a dwarf could come to expressing a possibility - in this case, the possibility that he should be the slayer of the Yaha'tha Jee'ya - the Beast of the Earth. He turned, saying, 'Send my son to Sparka. Release him and I l'guide you.'
Departure
An hour later Ereg was leaving Thure with his son Dan' upon his shoulders, the two of them together scarcely coming up to Agonas' shoulders. Ereg himself was only a few inches taller than his belt-buckle. The child did not seem all that troubled by his adventure in Thure. He had wept when they first brought him over the Outer Waters, but he quickly gained control of himself, sitting silently the whole while with his eyes fixed murderously upon his captors. At first they laughed at the expression on his face, but as time wore on they began to fear that this tiny child might somehow make good on the threats his eyes seemed to be making.
Dan was soon greeted by his brothers, each of whom took a moment to breath a sigh of relief upon seeing him. Naj'ereg, closest to Dan in age, though still a good ten years his elder, gave him a firm embrace. 'Dan'lel!' he said affectionately, rustling the child's already messy hair. The people of Thure, along with Agonas and several of his companions, watched the seven dwarves as they made their way along the road toward the southwest.
'Would you return to Thure?' Zefru said with a chuckle, wondering if they would ever see the dwarves again now that the prisoner was free.
'He said that he would be back,' Agonas said, shrugging his shoulders. 'Xan says that dwarves do not lie - and for now I am inclined to believe him.'
'They are armed like squid,' Gheshtick said, shaking his head in amusement. 'I think they could have made an end of us all - and of Thure at the same time.'
Agonas sniffed, 'They hate the water. They would rather kill the child themselves than let us drown him. And they were willing to make any kind of agreement to avoid the latter.' He could not help but marvel at how Xan had navigated this peculiar situation. 'Now they go to return the child to his mother, but they will return on the morrow. I think they are more excited about the quest than we are.'
'That is not hard to believe,' Zefru chuckled.
Gheshtick smiled slightly, 'You think too much of your life, Zefru,' he said. 'If a man took no risks with his life, he would be a coward, and he would still come to an end, be he an elf or not.'
'That is very true,' Zefru snapped. 'But if I had it to do again, I would have weighed my odds a little better. When I decided to come on this voyage, I was firmly convinced that no such monsters could exist. But now that every village fisherman seems to know of these creatures, I am doubting myself.'
'Remain in Thure, then,' Agonas said, 'and for all the help you've been you will be lucky if we bring you back to Evnai at all, much less pay your wages.'
'I jest,' Zefru insisted fearfully, realizing that his employer was in no mood for honest talk. 'I am with you to-,' he paused to swallow, 'the bitter end.' He was, for the time being at least, still more afraid of Agonas than he was of the distant monster.
The next day Ereg returned with his six eldest sons with him. They were garbed in very much the same manner except Haf and Naj were more heavily burdened, Haf because he was the strongest, and Naj because he was the youngest. The elves were also heavily burdened, but not nearly to the same extent as the small dwarf warriors, whose burdens were as large or larger than their own bodies.
Gheshtick carried an enormous long-sword upon his shoulders, the hilt of which stood an inch taller than his short cropped brown hair and the point of which scarcely cleared the floor. The dwarves gazed at it with amazement, and Naj even asked, 'Which dwarf made it?' When they were told about Amro and his skill with the blade they seemed to take it as some s
ort of irreverent joke.
Zefru carried a long knife with a black hilt sheathed at his side. He was not terribly skilled with the blade, but he could use it equally well with both of his hands - a skill that had saved him from no small number of perilous circumstances. Other than that he carried no other weapon. He did not see himself as a warrior.
Udraja was a golden haired elf of a noble Sunlan family, in some way distantly related to Ijjan himself. He had lately fallen from grace at the Golden Palace, however, and was hoping this adventure would bring him once again into the favor of the king. He and Amerlu, a mercenary of Evnai, both carried swords and small wooden shields. Amerlu was not in any sense more noble than Zefru, but the two had crossed paths (and swords also) before, and neither appreciated being on the same side of the coming struggle. Amerlu did what he was paid to do, however, regardless of how uncomfortable it might seem to him. He would put up with the little thief if he must, so long as Zefru did not provoke him. Amerlu had dark brown hair and a thick beard (an unusual style among the elves, who for the most part kept their faces shaved).
The whole group of them were given green cloaks and a coil of rope. 'If we end up in the UngBrusht,' Xan explained, 'you will be glad to match the color of the trees. And if we must go near to the Scars, or pass over the mountains, then the rope will be a thread of life to us.'
'Are you certain you wish to accompany us?' Agonas asked, not for the first time. 'You seem to live a good life here in Xan-Thure, why would you take a chance with it?'
'Life here is a risk, for all that I know,' he said. 'In you I see a thread binding my own people to the most ancient of times, and if I do not sever myself from you, perhaps to the distant future. Who can say what our companionship will bring forth in time?'
'Who can say?' Agonas answered. 'But who will watch over Thure in your absence?'
'I have a son,' Xan said. 'He will watch over Thure.'
'You have said nothing at all about having a son,' Agonas marveled. 'You speak so freely on other matters, but you hide such a trifle.'
'I have hid nothing,' Xan answered. 'But in Thure we are careful with our words, for we are ever fearful of the Shadowfolk.'
Agonas nodded, but he could not help but think that this talk of dark and mysterious baby-killers was unbecoming of one who seemed so appalled by the idea of gods and spirits.
'What is his name?' Agonas asked.
'Thur-hee,' Xan answered.
'Is he-?' Agonas began, meaning to ask whether his son was immortal or not. He was not sure if this was a subject the other would prefer to discuss.
'None can say for sure,' Xan said quickly, clearly wishing to think on other matters.
Agonas nodded and motioned his companions to draw near to him. 'We go to perils unknown, and glory yet only a vision. But ere the end I pray that we will master the perils and attain the glory. If you are doubtful, of me or of our quest, then turn aside now. I will take nothing from you save for your share in our reward. You will retain what honor you now possess, but you will have no part in our triumph.' He looked at his chosen servants. Gheshtick was the only one of them that really had anything to lose in this endeavor. Amerlu was a hireling, Zefru a thief and Udraja a dishonored noble - Gheshtick alone had a good name to either lose or build up. But none of them chose to remain in Thure. Each stood in a line as if ready to follow Agonas into a battlefield. With no more ceremony than that the party, six elves and six dwarves, set out into the south.
Elementals
The party walked south for most of the day, camping about a league from the Ashenlin, which was the name given to the northern border of the Burning Lands. It was not until their camp was made that Xan finally asked Ereg where they were heading and what he planned to do next.
Agonas looked startled by this question, for he had assumed all the while that the dwarf somehow knew where they must go to find the beast. 'You have no idea where it is?' he asked incredulously.
'Mm,' Ereg answered. 'I l'speak elementalad.'
Xan's neck whipped around to face the dwarf as if it had been pulled in that direction by a gale. 'What did you say?' he asked.
Dwarves are not fond of repeating themselves, and so he repeated what he said very slowly and condescendingly. 'I say't I l'speak to the Elementals - to the Jee'Nai.'
'Of course,' Xan said, shaking his head in agitation. 'The Jinn; he is going to speak to the Jinn!' With that Xan rose from his place and laid himself down upon his blanket.
'What is it? What are you doing?' Agonas asked him.
'What else?' Xan said exasperatedly, 'I am going to speak to the Jinn as well.' He shut his eyes and rolled away from the others and was motionless for the rest of the night.
Ereg pursed his lips, but otherwise gave no hint as to how he felt about Xan's outburst.
Agonas was not sure he wanted to understand just yet. But there was nothing more to learn this night; the dwarves did not seem to want to talk with them, and the only one who knew anything about the land of Kharku had gone to sleep in a huff.
The next morning Agonas awoke to the sound of greasy meat crackling over a fire. There was a strange odor in the air, not altogether different from the smell of a game hen. But when he looked over toward the fire he saw the body, limbs and tail of a large lizard frying on a huge iron pan. 'San and Haf were up early,' Xan explained, eyeing the meat doubtfully. 'hunting the Ghilil.' He said this as if it were the worst thing they could have been doing.'
'It smells fine to my nose,' Gheshtick said, standing over Ereg's shoulder peering hungrily at the meat.
'Good smell or no, if they offer it to you, then you must refuse it,' Xan spoke as if the dwarves were not present, and the dwarves, for the most part, acted the same toward the elves, only answering them when they were addressed directly.
'Why should I refuse it? It looks like a good breakfast,' Gheshtick said defensively. He was not the sort to pass by the opportunity to expand his knowledge, even if it was only knowledge of a culinary nature.
'Because it is poison,' Xan answered. 'Not to dwarves, perhaps, but to the men of Thure a single bite will empty the stomach, a meal will sicken you for a month, and any more than that will make an end of you.'
Zefru burst out laughing when he saw Gheshtick's horrified expression.
'They would not have told you that, of course,' Xan said bitterly. 'They do not like to explain things.'
Ereg looked up at Xan seriously and just said, 'Explanations are far from truth; truth is before'yu. See it; believe it. Explanations just add words to wisdom.'
'You see?' Xan said, spreading his arms as if he were revealing some conclusive bit of evidence.
After the dwarves had had a good breakfast, the camp was taken down, packed up and placed once again upon Naj'ereg's back. The dwarf hissed as the weight pulled down at him, but that was the closest he came to a complaint. The elves took up their burdens and followed Ereg to a small stream.
'Last,' Ereg said as he proceeded to fill everything he could possibly fill with water. His sons repeated his routine, filling even their upturned helms with cold water from the stream. They tucked these carefully beneath their arms and turned to enter the Burning Lands.
The elves filled their water skins almost to bursting, but none of them save Gheshtick could bring themselves to follow the pragmatism of the dwarves. Gheshtick was quite in his element whenever he did something novel. He took a small cook-pot from his pack and filled it with water to carry with him into the arid landscape that stood to their south.
The elves soon learned the purpose of this strange practice, as the intense heat of the Burning Lands seemed to dry up every drop of water in an instant. Within an hour Zefru had begun asking Gheshtick for a sip of water from his cook-pot, but the elf just laughed, 'What is the matter, Zefru? Is your dignity not enough? Now you want my water as well?'
'Is there a reason we are passing through this barren land in the heat of the day rather than the
cool of the night?' Udraja complained.
Ereg answered with one word, 'Ghilil.'
The elves were too thirsty to press him for an explanation. Agonas rightly assumed that the night was when the lizards came out of their lairs, and that it would be too dangerous to wander blindly in the Burning Lands while these beasts were out hunting. He also thought, however, that it was very unlikely that any creature would attack a party such as theirs, with six elf warriors and six dwarves armed from boot to brow. 'Doubtless the dwarves know best,' Xan said bitterly.
'You have two opinions concerning these little folk,' Gheshtick noted. Even as he spoke Xan rushed to him with his hand out as if he would cover the other man's lips.
'Do not call them that!' he hissed. 'We are large; do not forget it if you wish to survive this quest! To say they are small is to make ourselves the standard; which to them must be nothing short of arrogance.'
A thin smile appeared on Gheshtick's face as he considered the warning. 'It is true enough,' he agreed.
The days ran together as the party trudged through the barren sands into the south. It seemed to the elves as though the sun swallowed up the earth every dawn, beaming down so hot and bright that they felt as though they were on fire. Despite the carelessness of the elves, however, the party left the hot sands only a day after the elves depleted their water skins. The dwarves very quickly made their way to a formation of rocks where they said a well was hidden. They tied their ropes around a large stone and pulled, all six of them struggling to move it. Little by little they dragged it aside, revealing a deep hole. They quickly converted some of their cook pots into buckets and drew water from deep beneath the surface of the ground. They filled their water skins to bursting, drank to their satisfaction, and then washed the sand from their hair and beards before they allowed the elves to have any water.
Ereg looked at the elves coldly before handing the rope over to Gheshtick, who quickly drew water for Zefru, who looked as though he might faint at any moment. The younger dwarves looked at him with great amazement, but they said nothing about it among themselves. It was strange, and their expressions had shown as much, but there was no reason to speak further of the matter.
Their father had decided to go along with the Coastmen; and they would go along with their father. Dwarves did not lie, but it would not be considered evil for a man in Ereg's place to make the journey so hard on them that they could not survive it. But there was something about the way Gheshtick sought to understand all things that seemed to soften Ereg's harsh demeanor toward the elves. 'Dwarvish in him,' Ereg said when he saw the puzzled expressions of his children.
'Mannish in him,' Fas'ereg said, pointing at his father with a tiny grin on his face.
A few of his brothers snickered, but San quickly silenced them with a rapid shaking of his head.
The slow burning anger in Ereg's eyes quickly brought Fas'ereg's eyes to the ground, which was, to a dwarf, apology enough for most offenses.
'Help 'em,' Ereg said, pointing to the elves with a cruel grin. Fas' wasted no time, rising immediately and taking to the rope and bucket. He soon had brought up enough water for the elves to replenish their stores and drink their fill. When his task was done he deftly untied the rope and pot and packed them away once again.
The next day the elves were told to rest while the dwarves made preparations. The elves had expended all the strength that they had within them to survive the heat of the Burning Lands, and they would not have made much progress if they had taken up the journey right away. The dwarves seemed only a little tired for all they had endured. Jah' and Naj' remained at their encampment where they worked to build what looked like a small furnace out of field stones. By midday they had a hot fire burning, and they spent the rest of the afternoon gathering fuel to keep their blaze growing. In the evening the others appeared, each dragging the carcass of an enormous lizard. The Ghilil, as Agonas assumed the creatures to be, were as long as a man is tall. Their skin was a faint green, almost yellow enough to disappear in the sand. Upon their shoulders was a tuft of something soft - it looked like feathers from a distance, but the rest of their bodies were covered with thick reptilian armor. Agonas had to shake his head in disbelief as he watched Fas' carrying two of these creatures over his left shoulder, one stacked atop the other. 'Just how strong are these dwarves?' he asked Gheshtick.
The other elf shook his head also, having no words with which to answer his master.
Zefru just whispered, 'By the gods!'
From a distance (the elves generally camped somewhat apart from the dwarves) the elves watched the dwarves butcher and cook the meat from the Ghilil. They carefully cut and dried the skins, finally burying them near the well, presumably so that they could dig them up sometime in days to come. They cooked the meat until it was black all over and then they took the pieces and wrapped them in cloth, finally storing it all in Naj's enormous pack.
Gheshtick had gathered that the youngest of them carried the greatest burden because he was the weakest of them. The exertion was meant to toughen him, and the elf fully believed that it would do just that.
When night fell the dwarves feasted on whatever meat they could not slip into a pocket or a pouch. They offered some of the blackened meat to the elves, but only Gheshtick was tempted to accept it, nibbling cautiously upon it as the other elves prepared to eat their own dried fish and stale bread. He felt a bit ill afterwards, but the Ghilil meat did not make him nearly as sick as Xan had predicted.
'Elder Xan,' Gheshtick said after some of the others had turned in for the evening.
Agonas sat silently peering into the fire and Zefru lay on his back staring at the stars.
Xan sat across from Gheshtick on the other side of the fire. He was seated upon a large stone so that his face was fully visible above the leaping tongues of flame.
'Yes?' Xan said.
'May I ask you,' Gheshtick began. He paused for a moment, giving his words great care, 'What have you against the gods? What is the root of your ire?'
'Ire?' Xan said, smiling ruefully. 'I cannot be angry with the gods, for I have done naught to them, and they have done naught to me.'
For a moment it seemed as though the conversation had ended, but Gheshtick was not content with his reply. 'Your answer seems to fall short of the truth of the matter,' he said.
Xan gave him a surprised expression. He was clearly not accustomed to such forwardness. 'You are angry with the gods,' he said firmly. He was not intending to be rude, but he wanted to understand, even if the other elf did not truly wish to be understood. 'It is written upon your face, as the expression goes in Sunlan. We have all seen it,' he said, giving a quick glance toward Agonas.
Agonas nodded reluctantly, not wishing to be drawn into their discussion. Xan had reacted so fiercely even to the mention of the gods that he had been afraid to say anything ever since. One of these days, he thought, Gheshtick's desire for knowledge would become troublesome. He could not help but smile as he thought for the first time that perhaps Pelas was wise to surround himself with servants like Cheru and Oblis, who never seemed to have a thought of their own.
'It is hard for one such as I,' Xan said, speaking without guile, 'to live in the land of Kharku - the home of gods and fables and legends innumerable. It is hard to live here without growing angry. My ancestors came here, it is said, in search of a goddess called Eva'Nai. They never found her, as you can well imagine. But nonetheless they continued to worship her for many years, thinking that it was their annual sacrifice that brought the Adapnan into their bloodlines. But time after time the Adapnan would be born to the most wicked among us, and without any consideration of whether the sacrifice was made or not made. Eventually the people abandoned Eva'Nai, and began to follow after the gods and spirits of Kharku. But in the time of my great, great grandfather, may HIS name be blessed forever,' and when Xan spoke it sounded as though it was less important that his grandfather's name be blessed than that the name
s of the gods not be blessed, 'the people of Thure were finally freed from their illusions. They were finally free to simply live their lives without fear in their hearts and torment in their minds.'
'But what of the Pit, and the other terrors of the gods?' Gheshtick asked.
Zefru chuckled.
'Who speaks of such things?' Xan asked, but before any could answer he answered himself, saying, 'It is the priests and teachers, sages and wise men of this world, none of whom have seen this "Pit" of yours, nor seen the life to come and whether it be a good life or a bad life - or whether it is a life at all. None have seen anything of what is to come, save for those who bury the dead, and those who watch the worms consume their corpses. It is in these men that I will trust for my knowledge of what follows death.'
Gheshtick nodded as though he was satisfied. 'But some of the sages and prophets of our land speak of a God of gods - the father of all living things - of all things whatsoever. The Essenes say that it is he, and not all the other spirits and gods, who is the true master of all.'
Agonas raised his eyebrows at the mention of the Essenes. What was an elf doing looking for wisdom among mortals, he thought to himself.
'And why is he any different than the others?' Xan asked after a pause, 'what is so special about this particular god that he deserves my attention?'
'They say,' Gheshtick explained, 'that whereas the other gods themselves have causes, this God is the cause of all things, both god and man, physical and spiritual. Moreover, it is because of his providence that the world is ordered such as we behold it to be ordered.'
Xan gave something of a start at hearing such doctrines. 'These prophets and sages are deep thinkers,' he said. 'There is nothing of the like among the people of Kharku. Each tribe and each nation has its own divinity; Thure alone is without gods. Even the dwarves have something like gods,' Xan gestured in the direction of Ereg's camp as he spoke, 'or, more properly speaking, they seem to think that all things are gods in some manner.' When he saw the look of interest in Gheshtick's face, he quickly shook his head, 'but if you wish to learn about it, you will have to ask them yourself. It is not my job to teach others doctrines I hold in reproach.'
'Fair enough,' Gheshtick said, 'but what of the God of the Essenes? This creator of all? What are your thoughts about him?'
'Show him to me,' Xan said, spreading his arms as if to show that he had nothing concealed by them. 'I ask the same of him that I ask of other gods. Show him to me.'
'They say he cannot be seen or touched,' Gheshtick explained.
'That,' Xan said with a smile, 'is the wisest trait I have ever heard attributed to a god! The half-man, half-spider Galma'Nai of UngBrusht has eleven heads and a crown of gold upon its tallest brow, but that just makes it all too easy to discover the ruse. Make a god invisible, and in every way indiscernible, and you are quite safe from criticism.'
Zefru snorted with laughter. 'Well said,' he chimed in, breaking his long silence.
Gheshtick looked at him with amusement as if to say, 'You are interested in such things after all, despite all your pretenses to the contrary.'
'They offer arguments instead of rituals,' Gheshtik said, 'and proofs instead of traditions, however. So it is not a mere matter of dismissing them for not having their god in hand to show around.'
'Proofs?' Xan said surprised. 'These Essenes of yours are a fascinating group of people!'
'Indeed,' Agonas said, 'and had I known of your deep interest in them, I would have introduced you to Lord Kolohi or to Sol, both of whom are deeply interested in the ways of the mortals.'
Xan looked to Agonas and laughed, 'the ways of mortals?' he repeated. 'In B'alboru the elves have truly come to think highly of themselves, haven't they?'
'They have,' Zefru confirmed. But when he saw the fierce look in Agonas' face he fell silent, hoping the other elf would exclude himself from Zefru's complaint.
'You will have to tell me of these proofs sometime,' Xan said, looking past the fire and Gheshtick in the direction of Ereg's camp.
Gheshtick looked behind him and saw the dwarves tucked into their bedrolls with nothing but the glowing embers remaining of their fire. 'It is late, and if we do not want to embarrass ourselves utterly and completely, we will need what rest the night can give us. The dwarves travel by day and camp by night, but do not be fooled. If they wished to they could march through the night as easily as they march by sunlight. Their eyes are made for the deep places of the earth as well as for the bright surface. Furthermore, they do not tire as we do. They could march for three days straight before making camp. They are adopting this routine for our sakes, and we should not be ungrateful to them for accommodating our weaknesses.'
'You once again have a high opinion of the little-' Gheshtick stopped himself, nervously peering over his shoulder. 'You have a high opinion of the dwarves.'
'I speak as I feel, friend,' Xan said as he prepared his own bedroll. 'Anything less would be dishonest. But to say that I always feel the same thing toward these people would not be honest at all. Ere the end,' and Xan sounded almost like a prophet as he spoke, 'we will both love and hate them for their oddities.'