“A little, though it is difficult.”
I looked at the lady and even I could tell she was in pain. “May I bespeak you?”
She nodded, and Kédra said for her, “She is called Mirazhe.”
I concentrated. “I am Lanen. Lady Mirazhe, do you permit me to assist you?”
Even truespeech seemed an effort, but she managed it. “I have not been told all the truth about you Gedri,” she said, and her mindvoice was gentle despite her pain. “If you have the Language of Truth, who knows what might be possible. Yes, try what you can. Ahhh!”
I cringed at her pain in my mind. She was in a bad way indeed. And she was obviously not moving from where she was. I barely stopped to think. I took off boots and cloak, heavy tunic and shirt, and stepped into the water in leggings and my shift—and found it warm, almost hot. It felt wonderful.
At first.
I do not recall much about the rest of what happened. The sun was setting. It grew darker and darker and I had to rely more on feel. Mirazhe spoke with me when she could in truespeech, and I got her to nod or shake her head to let me know what helped or hurt. It kept her from having to speak, which seemed incredibly hard for her.
The worst moment was when I first tried to put my hand in the birth canal. I thought I would faint from the pain. I drew it out instantly and let the water of the pool wash it. It still burned, though not as badly, but what could I do?
I got Akor to tear my cloak, my beautiful green cloak, in half; and so concerned was I by then for Mirazhe and her child that I hardly cringed at its passing. I wrapped each arm, shoulder to fingertips, in one half of the wool. That was much better; its thick double weave was like so much soft armour. I could manage for a long while. When I had finally got the kitling turned, though, I had to use my unprotected hands to pull. I think I screamed as loud as Mirazhe when the littling came out.
But I will never forget the moment when I lifted the small, soft head above the level of the water for its first breath. All pain left me as there in the pool I held, for a second, a newborn Dragon in my arms. It was not much larger than a colt fresh from its mother. Its eyes were open and it looked at me, almost as if to speak its thanks. I laughed aloud in delight, then turned it towards its mother. It started to make sounds not unlike a human child just born. Mirazhe nuzzled it.
My hands were terribly burned, and once free of the spell of that greeting I climbed out of the freshwater pool and hurried to the open sea to quench the fire, shaking off the rags of wool that had been my protection. The shock of very cold water on the rest of my body was a great relief, though I could feel nothing on my arms at first. That coldness was all I had sought. Then I looked down and saw great lumps of skin in the water. Then I realised they had come off my arms.
I screamed once and fainted.
Akhor
We all gasped when the youngling came out, whole and hearty. I saw it look at Lanen and smiled to myself. This was likely to be quite an interesting addition to the Kindred.
Mirazhe would not be able to speak for some time, but the way she bent to the youngling and greeted it I had no fears for her. Her soulgem, brilliant now, shone a glorious sapphire even in that light.
Shikrar and Kédra were wholly taken with mother and child. I followed Lanen as she went to the sea. “Littling, the Winds bless you, you have saved them.”
She did not answer and I could not see her face, but I did not have to. She screamed then, once from her gut, and fell over.
“Lanen!”
When I lifted her from the water she was limp, she could not hear me, and her arms—her arms were horrible. I could not hear her thoughts. I was terrified. My little knowledge of the Gedri disappeared like the wind, I could not help her and I knew she needed help desperately.
I could think of no other course. I must take her back to her people. They would surely know what to do for her pain. My heart turned cold, but there was no other way.
I gathered her in my arms and leapt into the sky, crying out in truespeech even as I flew. “Shikrar, Kédra, someone, quickly! Fly before me to the place of the Gedri. Call out to them however you must, bring the Merchant, or better a Healer. Have them meet us at the place of Summoning. Fly on the Wind’s wings!”
Shikrar was beside me before I had finished.
“Shikrar, I fear for her, she barely lives. I take her to her own people to find healing, I will go from thence to the Great Hall when she is in their hands. The Council must wait upon me so much longer.”
His greater wingspan took him ahead of me, but I sped after as fast as ever I had flown. I bespoke my dear one constantly, on the chance that she might wake and be fearful. I would not have her feel alone. I held her gently, keeping her close to me for warmth, but she did not stop shaking. I had to hold more tightly than before, since she could not grip with her poor burned hands.
In my passion I overtook even Shikrar, cried aloud to him to follow and flew fast as fear to the Gedri camp. I did not take the time to seek out the pass; instead I clasped my dearling to me and flew up, up into the thin cold air, crossing the mountains in a straight line to my destination.
Lanen never moved.
It was deep night when we reached the place of Summoning. If I had the time, I might have noticed that I still held the mood that Lanen had brought to me the night before, where hours were as years and all of life seemed to take place in a day.
I cared not who heard me. I shouted as loudly as I could.
Lanen
I had the whole story from Rella later.
“Those of us who were here and still awake were just settling to a bite of food when a voice the size of all outdoors rang through the night. We could tell from the first word something was terribly wrong.
“‘Marik! Merchant Marik! Bring a Healer, come here to the Boundary. It is the Guardian who calls!’ No one twitched a muscle, we were that shocked. We couldn’t believe it, but in seconds it came again. ‘Come swiftly, Gedri, or I shall come to you!’ it cried. For something that big it sounded amazingly desperate. And angry.
“About then we saw a long streak of light, Marik it was, running hotfoot through the clearing towards the Boundary. His men ran beside and behind—mostly behind—with torches. And we all got up and followed.
“When I got there I saw Marik at the Boundary, standing in front of this huge silver head leaning over the fence, speaking as quickly as it could. ‘Merchant Marik, I require your consent. I have need of assistance only your people can provide. May I cross the Boundary?’
“Marik stood there speechless with wonder. The Dragon leaned closer and spoke again, fangs glinting in the torchlight. ‘Quickly, Merchant, your consent!’
“Give the man credit, he’s the cockiest beggar I’ve ever heard tell of. Not only did he find his tongue, he found something to do with it. ‘And what do you offer in return, O great one?’ he says, bold as brass. Ah, but he got his comeuppance. There was another voice from the shadows behind that hissed, ‘He offers you life, small-souled one. I suggest you take it, lest I take it for you.’
“‘I consent,’ squeaks Marik, stepping back. He needn’t have bothered. As soon as he spoke there was a sudden wind, loud in the ears, and behind us all settled the Dragon. He was huge and terrifying, silver all over, and he was carrying something limp in his claws.
“‘This is Lanen, called Maransdatter. She is in great pain, and there is some thing else that ails her as well. She shakes like a tree in a high wind and cannot stop.’ He set you down and leaned towards you for a minute, I don’t know why. Maybe to see if you were still alive.”
I stopped her. “You know, I think I remember that.” Perhaps I roused a little when we landed, for I remember seeing him in a kind of haze when he leaned down and bespoke me.
“Lanen, dearling, I must leave you in the care of your Kindred. Forgive me, dear heart, I cannot help you in this. I will watch with you as I may, I will hear your lightest thought. Call if you have need of me and I will be with you.”
“Mirazhe and the child?” I managed to ask.
“Both alive and very well. You have the gratitude of all the Greater Kindred.” His thought became almost a whisper. “And the love of their King.”
Rella went on. “When the Dragon looked up, there was Marik standing to one side. He drops his head down to Marik’s level and says in a kind of low rumble, ‘Know, Merchant, that I value this life more than any other. Restore her to health, tend to her well and I shall be grateful. Treat her ill and I shall know of it and seek you out, treaty or no, wherever in the world you fare.’ Then he flew away. That silver hide of his shone like white fire in the torchlight.
“Then we heard the voice of the second Dragon again. It was deeper, and seemed to come from even farther up than the other one. ‘We give you thanks for your permission, and for your assistance with the lady; but as of this moment, the Boundary is restored. I am Guardian now. We shall stay on this side, and who of your people crosses the Boundary must die, as our treaty declares.’
“We hurried away from there. Marik’s men were carrying you, and he was shouting for his Healer. I think you fainted again.”
I remembered nothing for a long time.
Marik
“Berys, we have her! The Lords of the Hells have blessed my petitions with a swift answer, and more. The treaty has been broken by the Dragons, the Boundary crossed, and all to bring to me the dying body of the one I sought!
“I know not what has brought her to such a state, nor why the Dragons care about her, but they do. She was very near to death, her hands and arms horribly burned and her whole body shaking with an ague. Maikel has saved her life, though it took all his strength to do it. When he was done, he shook his head and said it was not enough, and he forced me to cut open a lan fruit, one of my precious lan fruits, and feed a quarter to her tonight and another quarter in the morning. (The second half I shall still have—it seemed to work wonders for her, I will try it myself in the morning if she survives.) Maikel will need to rest for days to regain his strength.”
“And the girl?”
“He says she should be fully recovered before we leave the island, assuming the lan fruit is as effective as legend makes it.”
“Hmph. All very interesting, Marik, but why do you wake me again so early in the morning to tell me this?”
“There is better news yet, Magister. It happened that there was plenty of chance to draw blood from her, though Caderan and I were near certain before.
“Caderan has performed the rite, Berys. This Lanen is my daughter, my blood and bone, that I promised for the Farseer ere she was born. She is the price of my pain, as you said. And very soon now, once she is fully healed, that price will be paid.”
The demon messenger seemed almost to purr. “Excellent, Marik, excellent. Since she is not tractable, let her be dedicated to the Lords of the Hells as soon as may be. That should ease your pain and make her bend to your will; once she is mine I will take stronger precautions. When you return, my share of the profit from this voyage will be rich indeed. Well done, Master Merchant.”
I released the creature, hardly noticing now the stench of its leaving, when of a sudden there was a knock at the door.
“Master Marik?”
It was the old woman called Rella, who had taken up with Lanen. “What do you want, mother?” I asked. It never hurts to be polite.
“In fact, master, I was wondering if you’d like some help. I know Lanen’s terrible sick, and I’ve done some nursing in my time. There’s some things easier for women to do.”
She had a point, but I am a Merchant. I know perfectly well that nothing is free. “And what do you desire in recompense?”
“Well, that depends, don’t it? How long am I like to be needed?”
“No more than half a day.”
“Well, I’ve been bringing in ten bags a day, you ask your purser. Half a day, that’s five bags lost.” When I laughed, she snorted with disgust. “Very well, make it three. The girl has been kind to me.”
“Done. Let you begin your service now for your three bags’ credit, I haven’t slept in as many days. Keep watch over her,” I said. “If she wakes in pain, or needs anything, the guards outside will serve you.” I stumbled out the door, going to my own cabin. Until that moment I had not realised how weary I was.
The pain was not so bad that night—lansip tea helped—and I limped the few yards across the dark ground serene in the knowledge that on the morrow I would be free of it forever.
xiii
Councils
Akhor
When Lanen’s people took her up, I left Shikrar as Guardian and her in his care. I had called a Council and even for heart’s anguish could delay it no longer. But before I went, I had to know where he stood.
I faced Shikrar squarely. “Well, my friend? I go now before our people. I have broken the treaty with the Gedri, though my reasons for doing so were good. I have broken the ban, most certainly. And yet good has come of it.” He stood silent. “Hadreshikrar, my old friend, how do you judge what I have done?”
He looked me steadily in the eye and replied, “Akhorishaan, your Lhanen has gifted me with life where I saw only the death of all I loved. I know not why, yet, but I know well she is more dear to you than life itself, or you would not have done what you have done. How may I serve you and your dear one?”
I bowed. “Bless you, old friend. For now, I beg you, remain here as Guardian. Watch well, and listen for Lanen’s mindvoice should she be too weak to call out.”
“Gladly. And do not fear to call on me at Council. I shall be listening.”
I had no words. I could only bow my thanks again and go from him.
I feared, oh how I feared leaving Lanen in the hands of Marik. She had told me of the pact that had been made with the Rakshasa, and of her danger should she be his daughter. But there was no help for it. I listened for her every moment, even as I walked among my people.
The meeting place of the Greater Kindred is a vast natural cavern in the southern hills not far from the Gedri camp. We had changed it somewhat, added our shaping to the place, but in large part it was as we had found it when first we came to this island home.
That night I saw it as new. A fire burned in the center of the hall, below that place where centuries ago an escape for the smoke had been created in the roof of the cavern. The walls gleamed with years of carvings, some engraved on a background of khaadish, some rough-hewn out of the native rock. It held the smell and feel of my people for five thousand years.
On that night it was warm and alive with the Kindred. I looked around the room carefully to see who was not there, and realised that the only souls who were missing were Idai, Kédra and Mirazhe at the Birthing Cove and three of the eldest of us, who were too feeble to fly so far (they would listen through the ears and minds of their clan members, as Shikrar at the Boundary listened through me). All my people had responded to my summons, and to the tale that had spread fast as the wind about the Gedri who had called out like a youngling.
To my sorrow I noted that the hall held us all easily. I had in my earliest youth heard the Eldest of that day speak of a time when the hall was crowded. My mother later told me that he spoke in his age, that he was remembering tales his father told of other Councils in our former home. Since the Lesser Kindred were cut down in their pain and we came to this place, the hall has never been full.
I did not need that reminder of our last encounter with the Gedri.
I had meant to give much thought to what I must say and not say at this meeting, but since I had begun to live at the speed of the Gedrishakrim I had discovered that time can on occasion move so quickly there is not enough of it for much thought.
I had reached the raised dais at the far end of the hall. There was room there, and place appointed, for the five eldest among us and for the King. Shikrar and Idai would have been there; the other three had not come, and none so far had chosen to claim the right as eldest present.
&nb
sp; The five-yearly Council was a place for grievances to be aired, a place to seek wisdom, to speak of those things that affected the Kindred as a whole. In unusual circumstances, any one of us might call the Council for a specific reason.
There had not been a special Council in my time. That was appropriate, surely, for my reason was unique.
There was no help for it now. I must speak and be judged as I stood.
I learned then the sickening sensation that accompanies an act beyond the laws of a society. There must come a time when society will demand an explanation or some form of retribution (especially if the society is founded on Order, as is the society of the Kindred). I found a deep fear then, one I had never suspected lurked within me—the terror of the exile. The fear that I stood for the last time with my own people literally made me reel; I had to stand on all fours lest I fall. Now that it came to the point, how could I live without them, without the friendly voices in my mind and the companionship of my own kind?
And why should I? whispered some coward part of my being.
Surrounded by the souls I knew and had lived with for centuries, my link with Lanen seemed a pale, weak thing, destined to be broken. When I told them what had happened, I need only leave out my Flight with Lanen. They would accept the rest, she would be honoured here for assisting Shikrar’s clan, and I could stay. All I need do would be to renounce our bond, treat her as a favoured youngling, no more. After all, what more could we ever be to one another?
I thought with guilt of her plight, left alone in the hands of Marik, and the fate that might hang over her. I touched her mind lightly, and to my surprise there was a faint answer; she must be only just conscious. She knew a Healer was with her, but the pain and the sickness in her washed over me.
“How is it with you, littling?” I asked, in part to take her mind from her pain, in part to ease my guilt. I could not call her by name. It seems I meant to deny her in public soon: I found a need to deny her to myself first, to see how it felt.