"No, I thank you," I replied, settling on my bed of khaadish. "For the most part I am healed. My shoulder is stiff and a little sore, but no more than I can bear. No, I need only rest, and meat when I wake." I had shaken my wings just so and was tucking my tail under my head when Kedra said, "Father, truly, are you well enough to deal with the Council and what may come after?"
I glanced up at K6dra, who was gazing down at me and standing in the Attitude of Concern. I looked away and sighed. "Perhaps you are right, my son, and I am simply growing too old," I said, attempting to sound piteous.
It had the desired effect, though I could not sleep until he stopped laughing.
The Summer Field is so called for its loveliness in high summer, when the flame's heart, with their bright crimson flowers, bloom in their vast numbers alongside the deep purple and vivid green of summer midnight and the spiky yellow blossoms of the sunstars. I have not made a study of such things and know no more than their names, but their beauty always cheers me in the warmer months. The field it-self is no more than a broad expanse of grassland, with enough room for all of us who remain to gather comfortably.
In the winter it tends to be a hard, frosty plain full of old stubble, neither comfortable nor lovely even in a stark win-ter fashion. However, it is outside and a wingbeat away from open air and safety, rather than being warm, underground and a constant danger, as is our Great Hall when the earth is unsettled. I knew not how many would come, as I had not called a formal Council.
The day was grey and cheerless when Kedra roused me from sleep, wing-stiff, sore and muzzy-headed and not at all inclined to tell the gathered Kantri that it was possible that we would all have to leave our home. Kedra had let me sleep as long as he could, leaving me only time enough to eat the haunch he had brought me before I had to leave for the gathering. I had hoped to have time to consider further what I might say, to soften the blow perhaps, to have alternatives to put to them. Still, sometimes it is best simply to lay the truth in all its starkness before those who must hear it and be done with it. No matter how much blame was laid at Akhor's feet—or more likely thrown at his absent face—we still had to consider what to do, and that quickly.
I drank deeply of the cold spring near my chamber and that roused me enough to think straight. I started walking to warm my muscles, but eventually I had to stretch my stiff wings and fly the rest of the way to the Summer Plain, not knowing who or what I would find there.
As it happened, there were fewer there than I had anticipated. Earthshakes even as violent as the ones in the night were common enough not to inspire much fear in us, and the others had not seen what Idai and I had seen. Still, a score of the Kantri had gathered in that cold, windy place, one in ten of our number, to speak of what was to do.
I thought I had landed reasonably well for one both stiff and sore, but Idai bespoke me with her concern. "All is as well as may be, my friend. Help me now." I replied, and bowed to the assembly. "I give you good morrow, my friends, and I thank you for attending," I called out loudly. "There is much to be done."
Kretissh spoke first, a soul nearer my age than Kedra's. His voice was a strong comfort in the feeble daylight. "Shikrar, Keeper of Souls, what have you to tell us beyond what we know? The earthshakes were strong last night, truly, but no stronger than others have been and others will be. I know you of old, Teacher-Shikrar. What has moved you to call your students together?"
That raised a little laughter. I have an old habit of teaching. I taught flight to the younglings when there were enough to teach and I cannot seem to get out of the way of it. Akhor used to tease me about it as well, calling me Hadreshikrar, that is Teacher-Shikrar. How I missed him.
"Kretissh, would that there was aught I might teach any of you now. I am rather in need of knowledge myself, and hope that one among you might enlighten me." I had no need even to raise my voice, so few of us were gathered. "My kindred, I went to Terash Vor after the earthshakes last night, and it was ..." I closed my eyes for a moment. "It was worse even than fear could imagine. Never in all my years have I seen the firefields so active, so much of the ground flowing like water. It has shaken me to my bones. As witness I call the Lady Idai, who met me there."
Idai addressed us all in truespeech, valiant, angry, bitter with the telling, for she was farsighted and knew what lay before us even as I attempted to deny it.
"Shikrar, the Keeper of Souls, speaks truth. Terash Vor is alight, and Ail-neth, and both Lashti and Kil-lashti burn. The other mountains do not sleep, but they are not yet as awake as are those four. My people, I have seen the Wind of Change sweeping over the very earth we stand upon. We must consider this deeply."
From among the mutters a voice called out. "Eldest, you have seen such things many times. If this is worse than you have seen before, what of it? All things pass in time."
"I hear you, Trizhe," I replied. "And I too have had that thought, which is why Kedra and I are preparing for the Kin-Summoning. Perhaps one of the Ancestors might know more than we, might have seen such an upheaval before."
I looked out over them. Most were not seriously concerned and seemed to think as Trizhenkh did, that this was merely the worst that had been for a while and, like all the others before it, would go away in its time. Maybe he was right.
Then in that cold and barren place I saw again in my mind's eye the firefields alight, the ground all but boiling, and knew that he was not.
"I will speak of the outcome of the Kin-Summoning on the morning after the second full moon from this day. Let us gather here, for I shall here summon you all to Full Council for that time. Until then, I would ask three things of you gathered here. First, that others fly to Terash Vor to see for themselves why I am so filled with foreboding. Second, that at least one in each household might begin to keep watch. If the earth sleeps but lightly, so must we." I hesitated, but knew I had to speak of this. "It may be, my friends, that our time on this island is at an end. I would therefore ask a third boon—that the younger of us should fly far, east, south, north and west, as far as wings will bear you, to learn if there is another place where we may make our home. We will ask the Ancestors, but sometimes newer knowledge is useful as well."
That brought a surprised silence from most, but I was not the only one who had had that thought, for a voice rang out, saying "And what if there is no such place, Eldest? You know that we have long sought such a place and have never found it. What then, Teacher-Shikrar?"
I turned to Kretissh, for it was he who had spoken. "Then, my old friend, we are going to have to think very seriously about returning to Kolmar."
"And the Gedri?" he asked angrily, amid loud murmurs.
"Let us not borrow trouble from the morrow, Kretissh, for surely we have troubles enough this day. If we must deal with the Gedri, we shall, but that day may be far, far distant, and in any case such a decision would have to be made by us all. Let us speak with the Ancestors first and learn what we may."
Kretissh was not satisfied but in truth there was no more to say. When all who had come were scattered again, I bespoke all of the Kindred, letting my concern colour my thoughts as I called out the words of summoning that were used when a special Council was called. Never used for nearly six hundred years, then twice in six moons. Truly, the Winds must laugh at us sometimes.
"Hearken, O my people. Let all who are wing-light come to the Summer Plain at midday on the first day of the second full moon hence, and let those who cannot attend be certain to share truespeech with one who is present. I, Shikrar, Eldest and Keeper of Souls, in the name ofVarien the Lord of the Kantri, call a Council of the Kindred, for there are deep matters to consider and much to be done to guard our future. I summon ye, my people all. Come to the Council."