I dragged myself upright and found that I could not turn away from Akor—no, no, he was Varien now—still unable to believe it, still not knowing why we had been granted such a grace. It was long and long before I could look at him without a measure of awe.
I put the rest of the meat on a spit and began to cook it as Idai left to attend the Council and tell them our tale in her words. We ate as quickly as we might. Our drink was spring water, but I had to smile—we drank it from rough, heavy vessels of gold that Idai had fashioned for us, remembering how I had needed to kneel to drink from the pool. Kings would envy such vessels.
Shikrar told us that Rella had spoken with Kédra that very morning. It seems the Master wanted to start as swiftly as possible on the journey back. Kédra had asked her to request a delay of but one more day, and she had promised to try. I found myself wishing that she had truespeech, and began to discover some of the frustration the Kantri must always have felt around my people.
Finally Varien stood. “Very well. It is time. Let us go before the Council that they might see what I have become,” he said. “I am yet unsure on these two legs, Lanen. You must be my strength.”
“I thought we had already agreed on that,” I said, smiling. “But first give me a moment to make you more presentable.” Two quick knife slashes for armholes and my belt around all, and Varien stood clad in a makeshift tunic rather than wrapped in a cloak. “Now, my dear one,” I said as I put his arm about my shoulder and mine around his waist, “let us beard the Council once more.” I turned to him, to that wondrous face mere inches from mine, and grinned. “I can’t think of a thing to say to them, dear heart, but perhaps they won’t need many words.”
“Before you go, I too have a gift for you…Varien,” said Shikrar shyly. He handed Varien a rough circlet of khaadish, with a gap at one end. “I made it while you slept. I thought—your soulgem—perhaps if you are seen thus, it might lessen the shock.”
Varien’s eyes went wide.
I drew the green gem from my scrip and handed it to Shikrar. He scraped from the floor a quantity of gold and breathed fire onto it until it glowed, then made of it a flattened strip, melding the edges to make a circle the size of the soulgem. Taking the gem in his great claws, he placed it gently within the circle and bent the edge above and below, finally joining the set stone to the circlet with Fire. I longed to help him, lend nimble fingers to those huge unwieldy talons—but even if there had been some way for me to work near-molten gold, I would not have dared. Such a gift can only be the work of one pair of hands, however ill-suited to their task. He quenched it in the stream that ran in one corner of the chamber.
The setting was rough, but it held. Shikrar bowed and gave it to Varien, who pushed himself gently away from me to stand on his own. He received it reverently in both hands. He lifted it to put it on, but with some inborn hieratical sense, stopped short.
He faced Shikrar. “From you, my soul’s friend, Hadreshikrar, I accept this gift and bless you for the honour.” He bowed stiffly (so as not to fall over, I suspected), then turned to me. “To you, Lanen my heart, I give it freely.”
I did not even pause. I took the rough crown from his hands, held it aloft, and said quietly, “In the name of the Winds and the Lady,” and placed it on his head.
His soulgem lay again on his forehead, framed by silver hair, beautiful and heart-piercingly familiar.
There were no more words. We all walked together into the golden sunlight of the dying day and down to the Council chamber.
Varien
I have never since done so hard a thing as to walk through the aisle my people made for me to the dais of the Council chamber. Idai had told them the tale and Shikrar came behind to add his word, but what would you? Full of wonder, they stared in disbelief, in silence, for what words had ever been made for such a thing?
I climbed awkwardly onto the platform and stood with Lanen’s help. What had been a slight ledge was now become an obstacle, taxing my fragile coordination and balance. I stood shakily before my people and a sea of souls looked back. I could see they all bore the sorrow of Rishkaan’s ending, yet still from old habit they reached out to their King, to me, even as I stood in my small, helpless Gedri shape, as to a sheltering cave in deepest winter. Most stood in Wonder; some held to Disbelief, though that could not last. And over all there was the faintest hint, like the green haze of earliest spring, of something very near to hope.
I did not know what to say. I feared I had lost the truespeech altogether with my Dragon-form, but now my soulgem lay in its proper place. I had to gather my thoughts like the veriest youngling to be heard—this body of mine was not accustomed to such effort—but to my soul’s deep delight, I found that I still had the Language of Truth.
“My people, I greet thee with the love of thy King,” I said. It was the broadest kind of truespeech that all could hear, but it was undeniably the Language of Truth, and my mindvoice though weakened was unchanged. I understood, though, why Lanen so reluctantly bespoke anyone if she could avoid it. It immediately caused an ache behind my eyes that threatened to grow worse. Still, I knew that only thus would they believe.
“I am the soul you have known as Akhor, the Silver King. My people, I stand before you changed beyond all possibility; and I cannot tell you how or why this has happened, for I do not know. My love and care for you have changed no whit, but I am shaped now by the Winds into the semblance of a man, and must so live. I return to you the kingship you gave me so long ago, and desire you to choose another to serve.
“I am no longer Akhor the King; I am become Varien the man. My fate is in your hands, whatever may befall; but I ask you for old love to spare my dear one, Lanen Maransdatter.”
I leaned against her, my strength spent, the pain of truespeech too great.
It was enough. There was no more to be said.
Lanen
I held him and waited. There was nothing else to do.
The silence seemed to last forever. The tension in the air bore down upon me like a heavy cloud and time slowed to a crawl. I felt an hour pass between each breath, and in that time there sped through my mind any number of wretched ends to this mad act of the gods, each worse than the last; but I began to wonder when the silence stretched on still unbroken, and I yet breathed.
And finally I began to think that perhaps they had all had enough of death and destruction and had no desire to do us injury. I could not be certain, but among the various Attitudes they stood in, I did not seem to see Condemnation. It seemed rather the opposite.
Hope?
And in the moment I knew, as though the Lady had told me herself, that the taking of the soulgems of the Lost and Rishkaan’s dying had wrung their hearts as it had wrung ours, and that in the Lost they saw their own future if naught else was changed. Their saving, so dearly won and now so dearly paid for, was become the saving of the Kindred; our hope was become their hope, standing before them now on two legs in a rough black tunic and ill-fitting crown.
And all their longing was like to my longing, to hold communion with the eternal Other and make a place for it in the heart.
And the silence was broken at last by a single voice like the music of heaven, high and gloriously triumphant, and it cried out, “Long live King Varien! Long live the King!”
And hundreds of throats joined to it their music, voices raised in wonder and glory. “Long live King Varien! Long live the King!”
And the King knelt, humbled, before them.
And in the center of that music I found a remembered silence, and in the silence heard music still, wild and deep with wonder beyond all knowing, and bright with rejoicing beyond all hope.
Varien
I never dreamt such a thing could happen. I knew even as they called my name that I could not be King in truth, but the blessing of their acclamation overwhelmed me. When once again there was silence I stood, with Lanen’s aid, and bowed to them in the manner of the Gedri. I tried once again to speak in the Kantri
asarikh, for the return of truespeech had made me hope, but my tongue and jaw made mockery of it. I concentrated, ignoring the pain that truespeech brought.
“Dear my Kindred, I will carry this memory to my death, and ever in my heart I shall hold it dear. We have all grown, my people, and the Word of the Winds is the seal to the learning, but I will not leave you without a King. It grieves me, but I cannot even speak to you in the Kantriasarikh. If you would be guided by me, for old love, I here offer unto you Hadreshikrar to serve in my place.”
“He is Keeper of Souls, Lord Varien,” said Erianss respectfully. “Surely that is more than one soul should be asked to do.”
“It is, Erianss, you speak truly, and I had considered it. I therefore would ask Shikrar to surrender his position as Keeper of Souls to his son Kédra, who has already shown a facility for the Kin-Summoning and a constant and deep respect for all life.”
There was a silence, broken at last by Shikrar in the Language of Truth. “These are deep matters and will require much thought and much time. For the moment, if it is agreeable to the Council, I will remain as I am and guide the discussions as Eldest, which is not open to debate.” There was some scattered laughter. “In any case, both Lord Varien and the Lady Lanen must soon leave us to go east with the rest of the Gedrishakrim. Has the Council considered the Word of the Winds regarding Lanen Maransdatter?”
Lanen
Somehow I had never thought of my fate being different from Varien’s. Just for a moment my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.
“The Winds have spoken, Shikrar, and we dare not ignore their words,” said a voice in my mind, and I turned in surprise to Idai. “She is the beloved of our King, and for her sake the Winds have given him new life in the shape of the Gedrishakrim. How then should we speak against the Winds? It is my thought that she be honoured as Varien’s beloved, and sent back to her people with him.”
I held my breath. After some few minutes of silence, Shikrar said, “Is there a voice to dissent?”
None spoke. Shikrar turned to me and bowed, that lovely sinuous wave of his long neck. “Be well, Lady Lanen, and go with the blessing of the Kantrishakrim,” he said aloud in my own language.
“I thank you all, O people of my beloved,” I said, finally breathing again. “Never has one of my race been so honoured, and never blessing was more precious.” I turned to Idai, my eyes awash with unshed tears. “And to you, lady, I say that more generous soul never lived.”
“Be thou then as generous in thy love to him who was Akhor, Lanen Maransdatter, for that thou dost love him for us both,” she said privately to me, the formality of her words a seal and a benison. “And remember also that distance is no hindrance to truespeech. Shouldst thou need me, here am I.”
I bowed to her. “I hear thee, lady, and will remember.”
Varien
I stood on the dais as I had hundreds of times and gazed deep into the eyes of my people. I knew well that I would never stand before them all again.
“Be well, my Kindred,” I said, working to keep deep sadness out of my truespeech. “Prosper and be well, and strive ever to restore the Lost, as shall I. O my people, my Kindred—know that the love of him who was your King is with you ever. In the name of the Winds, my people, I bid you farewell.”
I bowed one last time and stepped carefully down from the dais. Unaided, I walked slowly down the aisle they made for me, gazing at each in turn as I passed—then through the long dark passage and, finally, out under the stars.
xx
Lanen the Wanderer
Kédra
That Lord Akhor lived, in whatever guise, banished the raw wound of grief I had borne since hearing of his death, and left me rejoicing. When my father told me of the Council’s final decision, I was astounded, and found hope in my heart for my people at last. At dusk, when the Lady Rella came once more to the Boundary, I answered her summons swiftly, my heart light with wonder and a reckless delight.
“Kédra, old son,” said Rella, “the ship’s Master is not going to wait for her forever. He’s leaving at dawn and that’s flat. I did my best, even suggested that we all come back ashore to get more lansip, but they’re all spooked and won’t come near for fear of DRAGONS.” The way she said the word made me laugh. “Aye, I know, but true enough they’ll leave without her sure unless she’s at the landing before dawn.”
“I thank you, Lady Rella, and I have a boon to ask. The Lady Lanen has asked that she might speak with you—will you come?”
She looked up at me with a curious arrangement of her features. Her Attitude seemed to have something of distrust in it. “You’ll return me here in time, will you? Whatever she wants is her own affair, but I mean to be on that ship when it leaves.”
“You have my word, lady,” I answered, bowing. “Will you walk, or shall I bear you upon the Winds?”
Her eyes widened. “Fly? You’ll take me with you while you fly?” As best I could tell she was well pleased with the prospect. “How? Shall I sit where I did before?”
“No, lady. I bore Lanen thus aloft, but only of desperate necessity, and my neck aches yet. If you will permit, I shall carry you.” I felt a curious sensation as I took her carefully in my hands. Her weight was barely noticeable, though my balance changed of course. It was the feel of it, though, that took me by surprise.
How should so new, so unheard-of a thing, feel so customary and so right?
Rella
I was terrified by the idea, but how could I refuse such a chance? “Very well,” I said as he gathered me into his front claws. Oddly enough, it felt safe. “Now what?”
“Take hold of my hands and hold tight,” he said. I’d barely taken hold when he launched himself into the air. It was better and worse than when he had run so swiftly with both Lanen and me on his neck. Scared witless and enjoying every moment, I held on like grim death until he came to ground again. I felt like a child, every dream of flying come true. It had been too short a trip, I didn’t want it to end.
We landed in front of a cave (he had to drop me a little way to the ground so he could land). Firelight flickered from within, and when we entered I recognised it as the same one I had gone into before. Shikrar was there, a golden patch on his shoulder gleaming in the firelight, along with the other Dragon I remembered seeing on the battlefield.
Kédra
“They are not here yet, lady, but they should not be long,” I said to Rella.
“Who else are we expecting?” she asked. “I wouldn’t think many more Dragons would fit in here.”
I found my mouth closed with wonder, I could not answer her, for there at the cave mouth entered the Lady Lanen, and on her arm—Name of the Winds, I could see it in his eyes. I had heard the words of the Council, but I had not yet seen.
It was Akhor become human.
Lanen
I was surprised to find Rella waiting for us. She seemed a bit confused, as well she might be.
“Who are you, lord?” she asked, looking at Varien. She spoke in her true voice, with little accent. She seemed to feel instinctively the awe that surrounded Varien, and he still wore the circlet that Shikrar had made.
“Rella, you are welcome here. I am called Varien,” he said simply. “Come, stand by the fire and be warmed.”
She approached cautiously, looking from me to him. “Kédra told me you wanted to see me,” she said at last, forcing herself to look at me. “What do you want? I came to tell you that the ship leaves at dawn tomorrow no matter who is or isn’t on it.”
“I was afraid something like that would happen,” I said. “I was going to ask you to scare up some spare clothing for Varien from the ship’s stores. It doesn’t look as if we’re going to have enough time for that.”
I turned to Varien. I hated to say it, but it had to be said. “Dear heart, could you bear to leave so soon? I was hoping to persuade the ship’s Master to stay on for a time while you got used to—things, but it doesn’t sound like he’s going to listen.” r />
Varien
“And what should we tell them, Lanen?” I asked. I found myself growing senselessly angry at whatever powers were forcing us to move so very swiftly, with not time even for me to find my balance on these new legs. “Have you any thoughts as to how we shall explain my presence?”
“I wouldn’t explain it at all,” said Rella’s practical voice. “They don’t need to know, and if they ask just tell them you are under the protection of the Dragons. That’ll be true enough, I’ve no doubt,” she muttered.
“And do you think that will suffice?” I asked. She paused for a moment, thinking, when Lanen laughed and clapped her hands.
“Yes!” She turned to Idai, Shikrar and Kédra, her eyes shining. “My friends, will you consent to bear us one last time on the Winds? Not now. At dawn.” She laughed again. “Oh, Akor, they will not question our protectors if they are the ones that take us to the ship!”
I laughed with her. “True enough, though it may be a long, silent voyage.”
“Oh, you don’t know them as I do. Give it a few days, they’ll need all the hands they can find. We’ll hear from them soon enough.”
“Look to the lady,” said Kédra in truespeech.
Lanen
Varien and I turned as one, to see Rella sat on the ground, her face white as a fine sheet. “Akor. You called him Akor. That was the big silver one, I remember,” she mumbled to herself. “But he can’t be Akor, Akor’s a Dragon, he was near death just yesterday at the battle, I know he…”