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The Finding of Lokan, Conflicts Kall Rayth
They had arrived.
Este was bustling with noise and people and creatures. It was a prodigious size; probably the size of four large cities put together. It was easy to see why one could be quickly lost in such a place.
Hithla was looking all around her. "It's noisy!" was her remark.
"Of course," Kall replied absently. Hithla was too taken-in by her surroundings to notice his attention on the shabby old run-down shack about three dozen feet away.
He had not brought Lyea for pleasure, but for part of the hunt. Surely she would have some knowledge, claiming to be the half-daughter of the Horse God? She refused to come with Kall, and perhaps he had not meant to take her by force. But he had, sadly enough. And she still sat miserably in the confines of its rotting walls.
Or so he thought.
"Where shall we start?" Hithla turned an anxious face to Kall. For the first time, he noticed lines of sadness etched across her brows. She *had* loved Lokan a good deal ...
"I'm not sure. Maybe" -- Kall grinned wryly -- "eating something will bring our minds back to the task."
They wandered through the crowds, pleasantly lost in the babble of voices and sounds.
"Fresh fish! My good chap, it's fresh fish, just caught this morning! Surely you'll not spend all your wages in the tavern!"
"'Tis a pretty trinket, no, my lady? Perhaps it is only folly, but I *do* think it looks nice on you. Only two kelmars! Ah, I thought you'd buy it!"
"Look over there," Hithla said, pointing. It was to a man selling freshly-baked crackers with hot walnut butter and cheese on it. "Doesn't it smell wonderful?"
Kall fished into his pocket. "Here; let's buy a bundle."
Sitting on the stone steps of a nearby building, they ate the crackers.
"I suppose the best thing to do would be search for places Lokan was last at," Kall said through a mouthful of cracker, butter, and cheese. "We'll most probably not be able to find him, but at least we can try to find a way to send a message to him -- to summon him."
"Most likely if anyone's going to be doing the summoning, it'll be Lokan. He has the knowledge," Hithla reminded him.
"Yes." Kall rested his chin in his hands. "And if he'll summon anyone, most likely it'll be you. You're the only one dear left to him in this world."
It was easy to tell Hithla was worried; she didn't even blush.
"But where," she asked, "do we look? Who would know anything about Lokan?"
Hithla Taln
Once I had a cracker in my small hand, I lost my appetite. I only had one thing on my mind: Lokan. Shaking my head, I knew I had to eat. Starving myself wasn't going to help us in locating him.
Everyone had shown such sympathy towards me after his disappearance. But no one truly knew the anguish I felt. Suffering had almost consumed my life. Until Kall had shown up at my door a few weeks before to revive me and convince me to aid him and Terr in finding Lokan, I had thought I was going to die. I could feel the ache of his absence running through my veins every second of the days that dragged by.
"Eat up," Kall said rudely, interrupting my thoughts. "You need your strength. You obviously still haven't gotten back everything you lost during your period of...mourning."
I took a bite of food and said after chewing and swallowing, "You speak as if Lokan is dead." Looking around me, I noticed a cloaked man who seemed to have taken an interest in the activities of Kall and I. "Do you know that man?" I asked Kall, gesturing inconspicuously to the cloaked figure.
"No, I don't," Kall said, frowning. I felt my fingers graze the smooth wood of my long bow that was slung over my shoulder. A red lock of hair fell forward into my eyes, and when I had brushed it away with an annoyed swipe of my deft fingers, the mysterious man was lost in the crowd of the market.
A pain seared through my mind, so hot that all I saw around me was a flashing white light. I toppled off of the stone wall, but didn't seem to notice hitting the
ground. I clutched my head and screamed, as tears stung my eyes. A vision of a man appeared in my mind, followed by another burning, and intense white light inside of my mind. Gradually, the pain ebbed, and I found myself propped against the stone wall, with Kall kneeling beside me, a worried look on his face.
"Are you alright?" Kall asked. He looked around nervously at the crowd we had drawn. "We need to get out of here. So much for a low-profile." I allowed Kall to help me up. After a few more minutes, the pain was gone.
I shrugged aside Kall's inquiry and said, "It was a message from Lokan. He wants us to see Keenan Makos, the local apothecary." Makos was the man I had seen in my vision. I just knew I'd have a few words to say to Lokan about the way his "messages" felt inside of my head. But Lokan was trying to reach us….I welcomed the pain in my head, if it meant that Lokan was safe.
Setting a brisk pace towards Makos's shop, I saw Kall's shocked face as he scrambled to catch up with me. I just wondered who that mysterious cloaked man was…
Lyea of the Magorians
Kall hadn't come for me today. I had been sure he would, my whole body ached of thirst and hunger, and the only food and water I had was in a small traveling pack leaning against the hearth. I had worked myself into a sort of frenzy trying to reach it, and now my wrists were raw with rope burns.
I had watched my pack all day, eyeing it ravenously. And when I had heard a rustling from the bushes and the slow, even creaking of the door swinging open, I stifled a cry of relief. But it wasn't Kall, it was another man.
My first thoughts had been, Kall, the little bastard, had sent someone else to do his work for him. Knowing how arrogant that boy was it wasn't unbelievable. But then I took a good look at the boy standing in front of me. His clothes were shredded and his bare flesh was caked in a sticky black mud. His face was a bright red, and he looked as if he was suffering from sun stroke. His hair was tussled and messed, and his eyes -- those were not the eyes of nobility. This boy had suffered much in his life.
I was scared. I was lashed to the bed, so the boy had an immediate advantage over me. He could steal my food and water, rape me, and leave me here to die. I was alone with an escaped slave by the looks of it, and he could do whatever he wanted and Kall probably wouldn't even realize for days. I choked back a scream and tried to cover up my fear. "Untie me," I ordered.
He did, but only after I had shared with him all the knowledge I had on this trip. And that I did rather smugly. Now Kall would realize I was not one of his waiting
women to be tossed around as he wished.
The boy smiled at me awkwardly. "So what are you going to do now that you are free?"
"Eat," I said, and pounced for my pack in the corner. I had a loaf of bread, some dried cheese, and a few strips of meat. The water was warm from sitting in sun for so long, but I didn't mind. I shared my modest meal with Rune -- as I found his name was-- pausing between gulps of water and mouthfalls of food to inquire about his journey.
"So," I said when I had finished, "you want Kall to buy you into his slavery for protection?"
"No. I want to work in his service of my own free will. My master would never stand up to a lord over something as petty as a run away slave, even if I was the best."
I pushed an escaped strand of dark hair from my eyes. "The ways of your people are so strange. My peoples, the Magoria, did not have slaves. We were all equal. Even the women, who your people treat like your whores. In my tribe women are needed just as much as the men. We all have a place because we were all made equal by the Horse God."
Rune stood and crossed to the window, pushing aside the withering piece of cloth that served as a curtain. "If only it were that simple. Come, it does not do well to brood."
I stood also, arranging my pack comfortably on my back and retrieving my hunting bow. It was a beautiful thing, finely crafted of ash wood. Intricate symbols of the Horse God were carved on the bow, telling the story of my people. I strung it across my back and smiled. "Perhaps we should wait for Kall in his manor. Then he'll see that I am to be respected!"
Rune sighed. "Why is it that you care what Kall thinks of you?"
"He has taken me from my people and the only ways I know. What do I have left but my pride and dignity?" I said, longing for the comfort of the tribes and open planes. Rune seemed to understand, he faced much the same in his life.
We left the small shack in silence. Oh yes, Kall would be in for a surprise when he came home tonight!
Kall Rayth
The apothecary was filled with the scents of sweet dried herbs, and the sounds of bubbling.
Keenan Makos was an old man with a weathered face, fine wrinkles and snow-white hair that fell wildly around his face, toughened by the ages.
"Good morning to you, Master Rayth," he said with a little bow of his head. "Good day, Mistress Taln."
"We -- we were searching -- " Kall stopped awkwardly. Now that they were there, he wasn't sure what to say or do.
"We are looking for Lokan," Hithla cut in smoothly.
Makos raised an eyebrow. "Surely you know, Mistress Taln, that Lokan disappeared a few years ago."
"Yes." Hithla tightened her lips. "But we still seek him. He -- he sent me a message through the Talk of the Mind."
Keenan looked interested. "What did he say?"
"To visit you." Hithla looked at him pointedly.
"Me. How interesting." Keenan Makos rubbed his bearded chin. "Surely he might -- but why me? I don't doubt your word, Mistress Taln. Of all the people in the world, he would send the message only to his heart's desire."
Hithla's cheeks tinged pink.
"Let us see what he might've wanted. You!" Makos was addressing the tall thin man who stood half-heartedly behind the counter. "Take care of the apothecary til I come back. Must deal with some customers."
The young man nodded.
Keenan Makos led them through the shop to the back, where a small locked door stood. He produced a key and unlocked the door. "Come."
They had entered what was evidently Keenan's residence. It was a tidy little place, though a little cluttered.
"Sit down," Makos said, waving vaguely at the four armchairs that stood on a carpeted portion of the room. "I'll make some tea."
Soon they were all sitting in armchairs, around a small glass table. Keenan passed around a cup of tea and a plate heaped with small brown squares.
"I call it 'layre'," Keenan explained. He smiled wryly. "Perhaps -- well, that isn't entirely true. It was Lokan who gave me the recipe to make this stuff. It was he who called it layre."
"It's delicious." Kall took another piece.
"Now, on to business." The old man rested his chin in his hands. "I am trying to recall the last time I saw him. Ah yes! Yes, I remember. It was, well, it was before the Graylon Massacre. I always found that strange, because it was about a few hours before the Massacre that he came to me."
"For what?" Hithla asked eagerly, hand frozen in the air.
"He wanted" -- Keenan's face was scrunched up in concentration -- "it was *heart of a plia*."
"A plia?" Kall echoed disbelievingly. "What's that? And what did he want it for?"
"A plia," Makos explained patiently, "is a small bird, the size of your palm. They are almost like robins, but of different colours. You see, a robin is brown and red. A plia is sky-blue and snow-white. Where a robin is red, a plia is white, and where the robin is brown, the plia is sky-blue. Do you understand?"
"I think so," Kall replied.
"As for its uses ... one moment." The old man stood up and hobbled over to the tiny attached kitchen. He went over to the counter and drew out one book from a stack of them. Back at his chair, he began to flip the pages carefully.
"Here we are." Makos put the book on the glass table so they could all see. "The heart of a plia. Its uses: brewing fire, it is one component of death -- and it is used for transportation. Those are the main ones, but of course, there are many more. One moment. I'll get you a book with more information. It's smaller, but has more on plias and their uses."
He got up and returned the book, bringing a new one back. He handed it to Hithla, who thanked him.
"With pleasure, my child." Keenan Makos led them out of his residence. "I hope for all of our sakes that you find him. It is only he who can restore Arya to its previous position. But it is my belief that the book -- or the knowledge that he bought the heart of a plia -- will not help you find him. Lokan will come back, in his own due time. Even if he may not come back in time."
Lyala
Lyala was dressed as a peasant boy, with her long raven hair tucked under an old hat she found on the street. She had been following the two, Terr and Freya, ever since she overheard their conversation at the Yn district.
Lokan. Where had she heard that name before? She knew she had...somewhere. Her mind wandered back to when her parents were alive. When they all lived in the woods. In a cottage house not to far from Arya. Her mother and father were talking as they cooked that days meal. They were talking about a man, over what, she could not remember ...
Lyala knew she couldn't follow the two inside the inn. She had no money to buy anything. So instead she sat down on a box of some sort of fish and watched them through the window.
Why was this boy, Lokan, so important? He was a Graylon, but so had her parents been. Surely there were other Graylons around? Lokan couldn't be the only ones left? Lyala looked up and into the window, and was shocked to see the boy, Terr, looking right at her. She immediately jumped off the box and disappeared in the crowd.
Rụnệ ur Atum
I watched as she slung her bow over her shoulder. The symbols on it looked vaguely familiar. I remembered one of my masters having had an interest in the Magoria, he had had scrolls filled with the same types of writing on this girl's bow.
"Perhaps we should wait for Kall in his manor. Then he'll see that I am to be respected!"
"Why is it that you care what Kall thinks of you?" I asked. Respect seemed something of the past. Even this city of Este had lost the art of respect long ago. It was easy to see in the masses of the poor and their hatred towards the rich.
"He has taken me from my people and the only ways I know. What do I have left but my pride and dignity?"
I nodded and watched her as she hurried out of the hut. Pride and dignity were different from respect. You could be proud-dignified--but still be disrespected. Yes, you could even be respected while still having little pride or dignity. Perhaps Lyea hadn't learned this yet.
I followed as Lyea quickly led us to Kall Rayth's manor. I watched everything carefully, trying to learn what I could about this place. It didn't take very long to reach the large house. We stopped in a cluster of bushes and observed the manor. I had assumed we would wait there for Rayth, but instead Lyea headed on towards the front door, bold as an ant that believes it can move mountains.
Her fist banged on the door and I repositioned by rucksack so that both my hands were free for use. A woman answered the door; her face was inquisitive. She smelled like freshly baked bread. My stomach quailed briefly, longing for the food that went with the smell.
"May I help you?" the lady asked dubiously.
"Is Kall Rayth in? I'm a friend of his," Lyea lied, looking fearless. The woman's face cleared at this, it seemed authoritativeness set her at ease.
"No, miss, he went off on some sort of trip. All I know is that he'll be staying with Mistress Qyr and his friends at the manor."
"Mistress Qyr? Where does she live?"
"Oh, out a ways," the lady replied, waving her hand off to the left.
"Can you give us directions? Or a map?" Lyea asked.
The woman bobbed and hurried to grab a map off a bookshelf. She came back smiling happily.
"Here's one that'll do, even has Mistress Qyr's place marked out on it! I hope-you wouldn't mind returning it to Master Rayth when you're finished with it, would you?" She asked hesitantly, as if afraid she'd make Lyea mad by asking. Lyea shrugged and nodded. She thanked the woman and then turned to leave, brushing past me.
Ignoring Lyea, I turned to the maid before she could close the door. Doing my best to smooth out my accent I quickly asked her for some food.
"Oh heavens! Yes, of course, you look a bit spent!" the lady replied. I smiled guardedly at her and told her I would wait here while she brought the food. Lyea had stopped to watch me when she found I wasn't following her anymore. She seemed impatient. I ignored her, venturing a few steps into the house to look around at it. It didn't seem far different from many of the other rich houses I had been in. But the décor was decidedly different from what I was used to, and what I appreciated.
I stepped back outside before the woman returned with the food.
"Here you are sir," she said, placing the paper bag caringly in my hands. "And tell Master Rayth to take care when you see him!"
I nodded and smiled a little less guardedly at her, then turned to go. Lyea waited for me to catch up and then consulted the map and led the way to Mistress Qyr's house.
Lyea watched as I slowly and carefully ate the food. The taste was different from the foods I had usually eaten in Sanys, I couldn't say I liked it.
"Let me have some," Lyea asked, reaching out to take a biscuit from the bag. I backed away from her and shook my head.
"No."
I took out a few more bits of bread and cheese and packed the rest away in my sack. Lyea looked scornfully at me.
"A bit covetous, aren't we?" she asked mildly.
"No, just hungry," I replied, purposely avoiding her eyes, which were seeking to lock with mine.
"Well it seems you've had your fill already, so why not let me eat what's left over?" she persisted. I didn't answer. She grumbled something and led on.
Lyea of the Magorians
Freya lived a little ways out past Kall's manor. Her father was a wealthy crofter, and owned acres of land, all ripe with the years crops. She lived further out than Kall, her father having cleared away much of the forest land to make room for his farm. The soil here was rich and fertile, perfect for growing crops. Freya's father ran a successful plantation, and the servants weren't suprised that Freya should have any vistors. After all, as the crofter's daughter she did have certain social duties.
The servants lead us to a small room to refresh ourselves. It was painted in deep reds and golds, with a small sitting room, library, and bed chambers. Rune's eyes grew wide as saucers as he drank in the wealth of such a place.
"This place is a wonder. This must be the biggest room in the castle!" he cried.
I snorted. I knew little of the city people's ways, but I knew them to be consumed with greed. And this was certainly no palace, and this certainly not the largest room in the palace. I shrugged indifferently. Rune would get used to it indifferently.
I was unpacking my bag when I caught a fleeting glimpse of Rune bent over a tray leaden with fresh, steaming breads, and other delicacies. "Rune!" I said sharply.
He glowered at me, snatching up the food possessively and cramming it in his mouth. "It is mine," his voice came muffled from behind so many slices of breads.
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Rune, I am going to teach you how to hunt. Then you shouldn't always need be dependant on these foolish lords. Come, the food will taste better when you have truly earned it anyways."
He watched my apprehensively. He stuffed as much food as he could into his pockets. I raised an eyebrow and picked up a piece of bread before he could snatch it up. He gave a strangled cry and lunged for me. "No! That is mine!"
"Rune, stop this. You are making a fool of yourself. Now listen, did I not help you in need before? And do you think I would truly let you starve?" I demanded, holding the bread just out of his reach. "You are not a slave anymore. You are free to do as you wish. No more will you go hungry. You have an able body who no doubt can excel in some trade or another, and you will learn to hunt easily enough. Now stop this nonsense!"
Rune slumped away from me, but the desperation flickered from his eyes. "All right. I will let you teach me to hunt."
I nodded. "Good. I have a hunting knife with me, and I can teach you to shoot with my bow. If you are anything of the hunter that I see in you, then I will make you a bow of your own, all right? Now let's go."
Rune smiled slightly, but he watched me rather cautiously. I thought angrily of his master, and how all these city people thought it their right to own those 'lesser' then them. It was people like Kall who had destroyed Rune's trust in humans, contorted his view of the world. I sighed heavily. "Come, I wish to be back by nightfall."
Rune slipped through the shadows, moving slightly with a practiced stealth. Out here in the woods he was full of the languid grace of a predator, or, I thought wryly, one who has been hunted all his life.
Beside him I moved softly, the heavy carpet of moss that sprouted up from the ground cushioning my footfalls. I clutched the Magoria bow tightly in my hands, concentrating on the noises of the woodlands.
As we moved deeper into the forest, the air grew heavy with the damp, mossy smell of the river beds, and quiet twittering of birds replaced with the lapping of water against sand and rock. "Come," I whispered, adjusting my bow so that it rested comfortably in my palms.
Rune lengthened his strode to mine so that we walked side by side. I smiled at him, but his dark face was blank of any emotion at all. His eyes rested on mine for only a moment, and then he was off again, stalking through the bush. I followed close at his heels, readying my first arrow. They were fine things. I had carved them on the long journey to Arya, as there was little else to do.
Finally as we crept through a last tangle of leafy ferns and a clump wild flowers that grew in abundance along the borders of the clearing, we came upon a small river. The waters were stained a deep green from the thousands of underwater plants jutted out from the river bottom. The quiet trickling of water against stone was the only sound to be heard as I lowered myself down to the ground, wrapping my body along the slick earth, wet with river spray.
We waited some time after that, silent, anticipating, straining to hear any small signs that something may be approaching. And when we had been lying for nearly half an hour, there came a rustling from the grass behind us. A tentative silence followed, and cautiously I raised my bow so that it rested on the slight slope of the bank that myself and Rune were hidden on.
I heard rather than saw they approaching boar. It was somewhere off to the left, and I dare not shift myself to get a better view. Boars were a dangerous sort, and I and Rune were unequipped to handle such a beast. Spears would of been preferred, but we had only my bow in a hunting knife. If we tried to shoot it down we should surely die, and to run was folly. All we could do was wait, and the afternoon was slowing drawing to a close. The sun was just
beginning to sink below the horizon, casting evening shadows dancing across the surface of the water.
"The trees," Rune breathed, his voice melting into the drowning of the water.
Yes, the trees. Boars could not climb. "Right. On three then."
"Three," Rune whispered back.
I sprang to my feet and in one graceful movement was at the base of a peeling oak. I didn't think, didn't hesitate, just shot up the trunk of the towering tree, reaching for branches as they found their way into my hand. Rune was close behind me, struggling to find branches strong enough to support him.
I didn't stop until the branches began to thin, and all that bordered my from the sky were the thousands of oak leaves, gleaming the bright green of summer-time. Rune joined me, resting from a branch opposite.
"You are quick on your feet," I said as I readied another arrow. From where I sat I could see a clear path to the raging boar, and hoped to get in a few shots.
"I would not have survived otherwise," was all he said.
I shrugged and aimed my arrow, waiting for the boar to calm. It would be a great waste to see these arrows whistling through the woods, still stuck in the boar. But I supposed I would have much idle time, tied down in that damned cottage. So I took aim, my arrow flying true to pierce the thick hide of the boar.
It gave a might bellow, shrieking and prancing in rage. It screamed again, its beady eyes gleaming wildly in the fading light, its tusks shining an ivory white. I snapped another arrow from my pack and aimed, hoping to catch the boar while it was still recovering.
This one punctured him in the thigh, and the next one in its broad chest. It squealed its anger, tossing its arrogant head and thrusting his tusks towards the sky menacingly. For a moment I pictured Kall, flying around the manor, squealing like a raged animal, and had to wrap my fingers tightly around a branch to keep my balance.
Rune raised an eyebrow. "I'd hate to come this far to see you fall to your death," he said.
I smiled and aimed another arrow, but then Rune was climbing swiftly down the tree. His hunting knife flew to his free hand as he clambered down. He gave a frustrated cry when I realized his intent, but followed after anyways.
In a moment Rune was on the boar, his hand positioned to slash the boar's throat. But the boar saw him first, and all his weight went to stabbing the boar in the thigh. It was a might blow, and the boar was soon hobbled, and rather easy prey afterwards. In a few swift shots of my arrows he was down on his chest, Rune slashing him to ribbons.
I smiled, me body still pounding with adrenaline. A boar! Among my people boarslayer was a respectable title, and many young men died in attempts at such a glory. And here we were, carrying home a feast.
We trod home proudly after that, even Rune had a smile in his eyes. I smiled contentedly. A boar indeed!
Kall Rayth
They sat listlessly, waiting for something to happen and at the same time knowing nothing would. The arranged meeting time was high noon, and the time had not arrived yet. Kall and Hithla were back on the stone steps. The cracker vendor had gone a long time ago; already a thin film of dirt had covered the depressions where the stall had stood.
"What is there to do?" Kall grumbled. He was in a dark mood, having nothing to busy himself with other than stare at the masses of people walking to and fro.
"Read the book." Hithla picked up the book and set it on her knees. She began to flip through the pages. "Look, Kall! Here it is; 'Uses of the heart of a plia'."
Uses of a Plia Heart
A plia heart is used for many things. The list below provides a view of the different combinations that can be made from it. Following the list is how a plia heart may be incorporated into the recipe.
- the brew of fire
the plia’s poison
transportation
relieving hunger
creating illusions
"Go to transportation!" Kall said excitedly.
Hithla obeyed, equally interested:
TRANSPORTATION:
The plia's heart will allow one to transport himself exactly three feet away from his present location when ground and mixed with dried & crushed parsley leaves, with two spoonfuls of water, a drop of milk and cooked. The effects will occur about two heart-beats after the mixture is eaten.
"That doesn't help us." Hithla's voice was full of bitter disappointment. "I thought -- "
"I know," Kall interrupted. He did not mean to be as harsh as he sounded; he was simply disappointed and did not want to show it.
"What shall we do, now?" Hithla asked. "We haven't got anything to show the other two."
Kall shrugged. "We leave. Come."
"Leave?" echoed Hithla incredulously. "But -- but -- but we can't! We still have to find something, *anything* that will help us."
"We tried and failed," Kall replied abruptly. "We will return to Freya's cottage. There are some things that don't need to be done on the scene."
Hithla got up and followed him. "Such as?"
"Such as plotting down events before Lokan's disappearance," Kall explained. "Recall all your last conversations with him on paper."
"Not if they're private," Hithla said defiantly, blushing a little.
Kall sighed. "Then don't. But anything to help us. Let us go."
He swung on to his horse and waited impatiently for Hithla to get on her own. Then they trotted off, back to Freya's cottage, to wait for the other two.
They did not know that two others awaited them at the cottage.
Rụnệ ur Atum
We had hunted boar. I had watched Lyea's archery technique with interest. Finally I had decided that the arrows would never kill him fast enough; impatience was stirring in me. So I had done what I could with my knife and together we had killed him.
I remembered one of the gypsies telling stories of boars and heroes. Killing a boar was a great accomplishment and obviously Lyea thought so too. The thrill of it all had been welcome.
I grabbed the boar by his tusks and Lyea took up his hind legs as we carried him through the forest and back to Qyr's home to wait for Kall Rayth to return. We had only just reached the court yard when horses approached from behind us. I turned to see two horses with a man and a woman. The man, Master Rayth, was looking hard at Lyea. Soon both he and the other woman dismounted and approached us. I glanced at Lyea and simultaneously we dropped the boar at his feet as though it were merely a rug of little value. Rayth’s eyes wandered over the boar, he glanced once more, impressed, at Lyea, then let his eyes rest on me.
His eyes traveled over my grimy appearance. He hardly felt impressed about me. Mocking him, I let my eyes travel over his appearance and let the frown on my face deepen. He turned from me and confronted Lyea.
"How did you get here?" he asked.
"It doesn't matter, Kall. I'm here... and I brought you a little present," Lyea responded, giving a contemptuous kick at the boar.
"So I see. You... went and hunted it?"
"Yes," Lyea replied, giving a slight nod of her head. "With his help." Turning to me she said, "Kall, I'd like you to meet an acquaintance of mine. This is Rụnệ ur Atum. Rune, meet Kall Rayth."
I held out a dirty hand and smiled in a galling way at him.
He, of course, didn't offer his hand in return.
"How do you know him?" he asked. "He certainly doesn't look like he comes from the prairies and is here to rescue you."
Lyea was about to respond when I held up a hand to quiet her and explained the situation myself.
"It doesn't matter. I'm here because you might be of some use to me--" Rayth's eyes darkened at the thought that *he* would ever be of use to *me*. "--but I think a better place to discuss all this would be inside, and after I've washed and eaten. Shall we?"
Rayth looked hard at me, then glanced at the other woman, who shrugged and nodded. He then proceeded to lead us inside the house and direct the servants--who obviously knew him as a friend of Mistress Qyr's--to draw up a bath for all of us as well as food. Lyea made arrangements with the cook
over the boar and soon we were shown to the bath rooms. The woman and Lyea were taken to a separate room for females while Rayth and I proceeded to strip and enter the huge, pool like bath.
I scrubbed my whole body hard and ignored Rayth's observation of me as he tried to glean what he could from my appearance. I turned my back to him and let him have a good look at the brand of slave clearly displayed midway up my back. I turned back to him and smiled sardonically as I continued to wash myself. Parts of my body were painful from the sun's burning. I tried to ignore them.
"So you're a runaway slave then?" Rayth asked impassively.
"That's right," I replied just as impassive.
"Who was your last master then?"
"I'd be a fool to tell you that, now wouldn't I?" I answered. Rayth nodded, he had known I wouldn't say anything. I assumed he was trying to figure me out, trying
to guess what would be the best way to reckon with me, like a smart predator would try to guess what was the best way to take a thorn out of his side. I had a distinct dislike for him, but I would put it aside if he proved valuable to me.
When we finished our baths and were dressed again, we all convened in a small and comfortable dining room where food was brought to us while we talked.
"So what is it you want?" the woman asked me. I chewed slowly on a piece of meet and carefully considered my response.
"Work."
"What could *we* ever offer *you*?" Rayth barked, looking amused. I shrugged. I wasn't sure.
"Lyea tells me you're on a quest. I might be able to help. Give me food, lodging, and a small income-as well as a most important promise that you won't sell me back into slavery."
Rayth and the woman exchanged glances and then looked briefly at Lyea. She shrugged encouragingly and ate on. I waited for an answer.
Freya Qyr
I looked up curiously as a young man and a resentful-looking girl entered the restaurant. The girl carried herself with grace, despite the sulky look on her face, it was clear she was from a noble family. As she passed our table, I could hear her muttering to herself:
"Y fhaine brenin, y fhainaera resal."
I suppressed a smile, and looked over at my companion. Terr was watching the girl intently. Finally he turned and caught my glance.
"I know her," he said. "From another old Esten family."
"So I gathered."
"Wait here a minute. Something's wrong."
Terr rose from his seat and strode over to the table where the girl and the man (who was obviously much less well-off than she) had just sat down. He leaned forward and addressed them.
Outside I suddenly noticed that the sky had clouded over. It seemed to hang down threateningly. I tilted my head to one side and listened. I seemed to hear a cry, but I could not make out the words.
Kall Rayth
The boy was now clean -- probably the first time he ever had been, Kall thought wryly.
There was something about this boy that annoyed him. Was it arrogance? Perhaps the way he calmly said, "If you are any use to me." Kall had half-thought not to let the boy in, but decided against it in the end.
Now the boy wanted to help. Help?
"You would only be a burden," Kall said harshly. "If your master gets wind that you're here, you'll have landed ourselves in trouble."
Rune shrugged. "I can only promise you that my master would not pick fights with a noble."
"I see." Kall snorted. "Has it occurred to you that we have enough people?"
"Has it ever occurred to you that I might not go with you?" Lyea asked quietly.
Kall shot a deadly glance at her. He was pretty sure she'd be of use -- but to have another, a former-slave hanging around them?
"It has," he replied grimly. "If you want, you can try to find your way home -- if you know the way back. There's dangers all over, and I doubt anyone will know where your tribe lodges. It'll be you on your own, and sometimes that isn't very easy."
"Kall," Hithla interposed softly, "surely it is cruel not to let the boy come?"
Kall sensed the boy tighten. It seemed that 'the boy' was not the sort of title he wanted to be addressed with.
"It isn't. If he wants, he can live in the forest. Do something. But why us? We are busy, we have no time for a slave's folly."
"I am NOT," Rune said in a quiet, deadly sort of manner, "a slave."
"A former slave, then?" Kall mocked. "We all have names. Do you?"
"Haven't I already told you it?" Lyea asked; she seemed mildly annoyed.
"Rune. That's a slave's name," Kall spat out resentfully. "If you aren't a slave, then you'll need a better name."
"Kall!" Hithla cried sharply. "That is plainly harsh. Of course it isn't a slave's name, and there's no reason to change it, anyway. Why can't he come along? Why not?"
Kall was caught, and he knew it. "Because -- well, why should he?"
"He said he might be of help," Hithla reminded him.
"Yes. He *might*. And in return, he wants a thousand things. I say that, if you want to come," Kall said, turning to face the boy, "then you'll have to work for your lodging. Live in the forest -- or clean up around the place."
Rune bristled. "I -- " he began.
"No," Kall interrupted. "This is no time to be leniant. If you want to come with us, you'll either have to live in the forest or in Este, or work for it."
Lyea of the Magorians
Kall was not the sort of man that you fought with. And especially not now with the haughty, angry look that marred his smooth features. He looked about ready to pounce on the next person that challenged his word.
But I was not intimidated by him. I was a shaman, not a lap dog. "Kall, did *Rune* not just bring down that boar with me? That is enough to feed your family for weeks. Not even you, great and powerful hunter that you are, managed that much while we travelled. And still you would have him clean? If you are so willing to waste an able body out of spite, you are not the leader you claim to be."
Kall raised a hand to strike me, spilling gravy on his fine doublet.
"Kall!" Hitha cried, reaching for his arm.
With some effort he took his seat again, mopping gravy from his clothes and glowering at me when Hithla wasn't looking. His eyes flashed dangerously, his face pulled into an almost feral smile. "You will adress me as Lord Rayth. *Do you understand?*"
His voice had a deadly calm to it, like the predator as it sat on its haunches, waiting for the right time to spring for the kill. But I was angry, too. "Listen to me, Kall. I did not travel across hundreds of miles a land, torn away from my people, to bow down to you, of all people! You will treat me with the same respect as you demand others treat you, and then perhaps I will look at you as more that a selfish, pig headed little boy!" I shrieked.
Rune smiled darkly, and Hiltha stopped her futile attempts to calm Kall. I watched them all, expecting Kall to leap over the table any minute and strangle me on the spot, but he remained seated, gravy dripping from his tunic, a sort of dizzy smile hovering around the edges of his mouth. "As you wish it, Lady." was all he said.
His gaze locked on mine, and the world seemed to stop. For an eternal moment the two of us were suspended in time, measuring, contemplating, examining each other. But I looked away, afraid of the glimpse of the warrior I saw rippling beneath his cool demeanor. "Good evening. I shall be retiring to my room now," I said stiffly.
No one said anything about had I did not really have a room in the manor, nor did they question the authoritive tone in which I spoke. Good, I thought, and turned briskly down the corridor. |
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