They seemed to be figured in random patterns, yet there was a sense of rhythm in the pattern -- like writing.
The Shaman seemed uncannily aware of what Tarma was thinking. "Hai, they are a written history of our people; written in a language all their own. It is a language so concise that one hundred years of history can be contained in a single hanging."
Tarma looked around the tent, and realized that there must be close to fifty of these hangings, layered one upon the other. But -- that meant five thousand years!
Again the Shaman seemed to sense Tarma's thoughts. "Not so many years as you may think. Some of these deal with the history of peoples other than our own, peoples whose lives impinge upon ours. But we are not here to speak of that," the Shaman seated herself on her pallet, allowing Kethry and Tarma to find places for themselves on her floor. "I think the Plains grow too small for both of you, he shala?"
"There's just no real need for me here," Kethry replied. "My order -- well, we just can't stay where there's nothing for us to do. If some of the Clansfolk had magic gifts, or wanted to learn the magics that don't require a Gift, it would be different; I'd gladly teach them here. But no one seems interested, and frankly, I'm bored. Actually, it's a bit worse than being bored. I'm not learning anything. I'll never reach Adept status if I stay here."
"I... don't fit here," Tarma sighed, "And I never thought I'd say that. Like Keth, I'd be happy to teach the children swordwork, but that would be usurping Shelana's position. I thought I could keep busy working with her, but -- "
"I venture to guess you found her scarcely more challenging than her pupils? Don't look so surprised, my child; I of all people should know what your Oath entails. Liha'irden has not had Kal'enedral in its midst for a generation, but I know what your skill is likely to be -- and how it was acquired."
There was silence for a moment, then Tarma said wryly, "Well, I wish you'd told me! The first time one of Them showed up, it was enough to stop my heart!"
"We were a trifle short of time to be telling you anything, even had you been in condition to hear it. So -- tell me more of your troubles."
"I love my people, I love the Plains, but I have no purpose here. I am totally useless. I'd be of more use raising income for Tale'sedrin than I am now."
"Ah -- you have seen the problem with raising the banner?"
"We're only two; we can't tend the herds ourselves. We could bring in orphans and third and fourth children from Clans with far too many to feed, but we have no income yet to feed them ourselves. And frankly, we have no Name. We aren't likely to attract the kind of young men and women that would be my first choice without a Name."
"Would you mind telling me what you two are talking about?" Kethry demanded, bewilderment written plainly on her face.
"Goddess -- I'm sorry, Keth. You've fallen in with us so well, I forget you aren't one of us."
"Allow me," the Shaman interrupted gently. "]el'enedra, when you pledged yourself to providing children for Tale'sedrin, you actually pledged only to provide the Clan core -- unless you know some magic to cause you to litter like a grass-runner!" The Shaman's smile was warm, and invited Tarma as well as Kethry to share the joke. "So; what will be, is that when you do find a mate and raise up your children, they must spend six months of the year here, shifting by one season each year so that they see our life in harsh times as well as easy. When they come of age, they will choose -- to be Shin'a'in always, or to take up a life off of the Plains. Meanwhile, we will be sending out the call, and unmated jel'asadra of both sexes are free to come to your banner to make it their own. Orphans, also. Until you and your she'enedra declare the Clan closed. Do you see?"
"I think so. Now what was the business about a Name?"
"The caliber of youngling you will attract will depend on the reputation you and Tarma have among the Clans. And right now -- to be frank, you will only attract those with little to lose. Not the kind of youngling I would hope to rebuild a Clan with, if I were rebuilding Tale'sedrin."
"The part about income was clear enough," Kethry said after a long moment of brooding. "We -- we'd either have to sell some of the herd at a loss, or starve."
"Are you in condition to hear advice, the pair of you?"
"I think so," said Tarma.
"Leave the Clans; leave the Plains. There is nothing for you here, you are wasting your abilities and you are wasting away of boredom. I think there is something that both of you wish to do -- and I also think that neither of you has broached the subject for fear of hurting the other's feelings."
"I..." Kethry faltered. "Well, there's two things, really. Since I've vowed myself to rebuilding Tale'sedrin -- that needs a man, I'm afraid. I'll grant you that I could just go about taking lovers but... I want something more than that, I want to care for the father of any children I might have. And frankly, most of the men here are terribly alien to me."
"Understandable," the Shaman nodded. "Laudable, in fact. The Clan law holds that you, your she'enedra, and your children would comprise a true Clan-seed, but I think everyone would be happier if you chose a man as a long-term partner-mate, and one with whom you have more in common than one of us. And the other?"
"If I ever manage to get myself to the stage of Adept, it's more-or-less expected of a White Winds sorceress that she start a branch of the school. But to do that, to attract pupils, I'd need two things. A reputation, and money."
"So again, we come to those two things, as important to you as to the Clan."
"Well that's odd, that you've been thinking of starting a school, because I've been playing with the same notion," Tarma said in surprise. "I've been thinking I enjoyed teaching Justin and Ikan so much that it would be no bad thing to have a school of my own, one that teaches something besides swordwork."
"Teach the heart as well as the mind and body?" the Shaman smiled. "Those are praiseworthy goals, children, and not incompatible with rebuilding Tale'sedrin. Let me make you this proposition; for a fee, Liha'irden will continue to raise and tend your herds -- I think a tithe of the yearlings would be sufficient. Do you go out before the snows close us in and see if you cannot raise both the reputation and the gold to build your schools and your Clan. If you do not succeed, you may always return here, and we will rebuild the harder way, but if you do, well, the Clan is where the people are; there is no reason why Tale'sedrin should not first ride in outClan lands until the children are old enough to come raise the banner themselves. Will that satisfy your hungers?"
"Aye, and then some!" Tarma spoke for both of them, while Kethry nodded, more excitement in her eyes than had been there for weeks.
* * *
Kessira and Rodi remained behind with the herds when they left two weeks later. Now that they were to pursue their avocation of mercenary in earnest, they rode a matched pair of the famed Shin'a'in battlesteeds; horses they had picked out and had been training with since spring.
Battlesteeds were the result of a breeding program that had been going on for as long as the Shin'a'in had existed as nomadic horsebreeders. Unlike most horsebreeding programs, the Shin'a'in had not been interested in looks, speed, or conformation. They had bred for intelligence, above all else -- and after intelligence, agility, strength, and endurance. The battlesteeds were the highly successful result.