At the far end of the gangplank there was a milling crowd of Harvesters seeking payment, receiving payment, grinning madly, laughing wildly at family and friends in the crowd that had gathered to cheer and greet the first Harvest ship to return in a hundred and thirty years.
Rella was behind me when I collected my pay for the lansip I'd gathered, but I did not mean to linger. Varien and I, at least, had but one desire—to get away from there as far and as fast as possible.
I had never imagined such a great crowd of Gedrisha—of people. The quay swarmed with them, shouting, laughing, working, begging, a great seething mass of souls intent on their own business yet moving as in a great dance with their fellow creatures. It was dizzying.
We were past the paymaster and heading into the crowd when Rella called out to us. Lanen was in a hurry but she stopped, waiting for her to catch us up. "Whither now, Rella?" she asked. "Now you've made your fortune proper, where will you go?"
The old woman smiled, her pack resting effortlessly on her bent back, a mysterious something in her eyes. "Home, I think," she said. She stared at Lanen, her smile growing wider. "It's a long way to go alone, though. I wondered where you might be headed. If our paths lie together, perhaps I might ride with you—some of the way, at least." When Lanen did not answer, Rella delighted me by standing in what could only be an Attitude, the backs of her hands on her hips, her weight all on one leg and that hip higher than the other, with a quirk of the lips and an expression I had not seen before. Now if only I could learn what it meant.
"I'm making for a little village in the North Kingdom, maybe you've heard of it. It's called Beskin."
"What?" exclaimed Lanen. "Beskin?" Her eyes glowed with delight. "Heithrek. Do you— have you ever known a man called Heithrek, a blacksmith? It would be—oh, near thirty years ago, but his family might still be there."
Rella grinned with delight "Never met him." She paused, and I'd swear she savoured her next words. "I know his daughter, though. Tall woman, looks a lot like you, name of Maran Vena."
Lanen let loose a little cry and her mouth dropped open. Her eyes were shining and she couldn't speak for a moment, lost in wonder at something I could not imagine.
And then from nowhere, out of the seething crowd of humanity, a small dark-haired man came close behind Rella. I saw something flash in his hand and heard Rella cry out in pain.
Lanen cried out as well and caught her as she fell, but from where she stood she could not have seen what happened. I left Rella to her care and ran after the man, or tried to. There were simply too many people. I could not keep up with him— it seemed almost as if the crowd parted to let him through, then closed up behind like an impenetrable forest. In seconds he was out of sight.
I went back to Rella, now covered with blood and lying in Lanen's arms on the ground. She was badly wounded, though I could not be certain that the smell of death was on her. I ran to seek Maikel, not knowing if he could do her any service, knowing only that there was no other hope for her.
I had seen such a wound before, though Jamie was better at it. Rella still lived.
"Who has done this?" I asked urgently.
"Caderan's master. Berys. Demonlord," she said, breathless. Her face grew paler by the second and I feared death was not far off, but she managed yet to speak. "Beskin. Maran—give her ... love ... warning," and then, staring into my eyes and speaking very clearly, she said, "Go to your mother."
Then she fell back. I did not know if she had fainted or died.
Maikel and I came as swiftly as we might. He found the pulse of life in her yet, weak but present, and taking her body in his arms he bade us follow him to the Healer's residence hard by. His fellow Healers laid her on a clean table and began to put forth their power to save her.
We could only watch.
Lanen stood in shock, helpless and angry. She stared into nothingness for only a little space of time, then with a jerk opened her eyes wide and turned sharply to me. "Come on. They'll take care of her. We have to go."
"Where?"
"Away from here." When I still did not respond, she gripped my arm tightly with the strength of her fear. ''If they found her they can find us. We have to go now."
And so it was that our first days in the land of the Gedri were spent in flight.
I still regret there was nothing I could do for Rella, not even wait for her to be healed, but I knew where she was going. And she was alive. That would have to do for now.
On our journey it occurred to me that those who tried to kill her may have expected me to wait for her to recover, to stand useless vigil by her side. To this day I do not understand why so many people think that a kind heart is an indication of a weak mind.
Varien and I bought the first decent horses we found—not as good as Hadron's, of course—and rode out of Corli barely two hours after we had arrived. We journeyed north overland, keeping to the main highways, staying at crowded inns along the way, travelling as long as the sun was in the sky and keeping watch turn and turn about at night in our room. The lateautumn days were closing in, so we made the best of the shrinking daylight hours, riding until the last drop of daylight was wrung from the sky, rising well before first light to break our fast and be on our way.
We passed through the great plains of southern Ilsa. The ploughed fields were shorn now of their burden of grain and lay around us in untamed stretches, brown with winter's approach.
I found great beauty in the land, perhaps because I was given to see it with another's eyes.
Once I had learned to stop falling off my horse—and I had an excellent teacher—I began to enjoy the stark beauty of the plains through which we rode. I missed the mountains and forests of my home, but the rising sun shone red-gold and kindly on fields where the Gedri had toiled, and I was content.
With the land, at least.
I found as we journeyed together, learning more of each other at night and morning in those few moments we had in peace, I could let sorrow and amazement and fear each have their place and yet have room for one feeling more. I would not have thought it possible, but my love for my dearling grew with each passing day. Everything I learned about her I cherished, her high heart and brave soul proved as true in everyday life as it had been on the Dragon Isle in the midst of high matters and great changes. I have found over the years that, as with my own people, the true test of character is to deal with others kindly from one day to the next. It is not so difficult to rise to the best of one's being when matters of great moment are at stake.
It is very difficult indeed to rise each morning with a kind heart.
As we travelled north, I found that other things were rising as well. The incredible sensitivity of my skin was gradually wearing off—clothing was no longer uncomfortable to wear, I had to think about it to notice the wind on my hand—but other things were happening that concerned me. The Kantri mate perhaps a dozen times in a lifetime spanning many centuries. It is a response to the urge to procreate, and though the joining of souls is a wonder, the act itself is difficult and, understand, more than a little painful. Certainly there is no great pleasure in it.
When first I noticed something unusual happening to my body—we were some four weeks out of Corli—I innocently asked Lanen about it. Then I had to ask why her face had turned red. At that time, she mumbled something incoherent and swiftly changed the subject. The next evening, however, she seemed to have come to terms with the idea. She sat me down and explained the technical details of human mating. It sounded dreadfully awkward at best. She laughed at my puzzled expression and put her arms about me—I had learned what "hug" was, and returned it gladly—and said we should discover more about it later.