Jamie dropped his pack and knelt beside her. "Mistress," he said fervently, laying his hand lightly on her arm, "this is not your fight. I go into danger to fulfill an old vow. Lanen and Varien go where the Lady and their destiny lead them. You do not need to come."
"Is that so, Jamie Horsemaster?" said Rella, gently removing his hand and drawing out an extra blanket from the depths of her own pack. "You don't listen very well, do you? I'm on duty, remember."
I was going to ask her what kind of duty she was talking about when I heard Shikrar's voice clearly saying my name.
"Wake up, girl!" Rella's voice interrupted my thoughts. "If you burn that deer meat you'll eat it yourself."
I managed to save most of it and was laying it by on a stone to cool when Jamie said, "Where's that man of yours?"
"He's not far," I said. "I heard him just now." Silently thanking the Lady for truespeech, I bespoke him. "Varien? Where are you/are you well?"
I was not so squeamish as Lanen and ate well of the deer that Jamie had killed. I had occasionally heard the death cry of creatures I killed for food—certainly I saw their faces.
It is a hard truth of life that we live, all, on death. We of the Kantri give thanks to the Winds for the lives that sustain our own and ask forgiveness of the creatures we must kill, but we cannot live only on the fruits of the earth. Indeed, one of the Kantri tried it when I was young—Kretissh, it was. He ate only roots and the fruit of the trees, and though Ian fruit is sustaining for a time, eventually he grew weak and then ill. It was Shikrar, my old friend, who came roaring into his chambers with a great fish he had caught. Crafty soul, he knew Kretissh was partial to fish. Shikrar was not Eldest then but he had taught Kretissh along with most of the rest of us, and when he ordered Kretissh to eat, he ate. He could only take a little flesh at first, but as he grew stronger he returned to himself. As Idai once said, how do we know that the fruits do not feel pain and cry out in their own silent tongue when we eat them?
I found my thoughts turning more and more to my old friends and my heart grew heavy. So far away, my people. I had almost forgotten that I had the means to bespeak them. I drew out from my pack the rough gold circlet Shikrar had made to hold my soulgem. I did not put it on immediately but held it in my hands and gazed at it.
How shall I explain it to you? A soulgem is not an ornament dug from the ground, it is a part of us, part of our bodies, as much as wing and talon, blood and bone. I still missed my wings, though the wonder of being human delighted me, but the absence of my soulgem was a constant sorrow. It was as though a human had lost all but the least of hearing and sight, and yet could hold the loss in their hands. The Kantri can sense emotions and hear truespeech. It is the way we are made—without truespeech, how should we speak one to another, up in the high air riding upon the winds, and with at least two wings' distance between us? Lanen was the only child of the Gedri who had ever been known to have truespeech.
I raised the circlet and put it on. My head began to ache immediately but I did not care, I so desperately longed to hear the voices of my kindred. "Shikrar, soulfriend, canst hear me?"
"Akhorishaan!" came the response, immediate, delighted. "Ah, blessed be the Winds, I hear you! And I must call you Varien, of course. Your voice is welcome as summer in winter, my friend. How fare you?"
I wrapped my arms around me, hugging his voice to myself. It was Shikrar, speaking to me mind to mind as of old, the lifelong friendship between us deep and strong as the sea. "All the better to hear your voice, my friend. The winter is long, and life among the Gedri is not always simple."
"Life is never simple, Kantri or Gedri," he replied. Now that I was past the first joy of hearing his voice again, I caught undertones of concern in his voice. "Much has happened of late, Varien. Have you time for speech?"
"As well now as later," I replied. "Come, Shikrar, how fare you? Since you reply so swiftly, I must assume the Weh has released you."
"I am recovered, I thank you. How keep you and your lady?"
"We are as well as may be, though trouble has sought us out of late. I am learning hard truths about my new people, Shikrar."
"Truth hath ever sharp edges, as you know of old. Keep you in good heart despite what you learn?"
"Good heart enough. Lanen is ever the delight of my eyes and the wings of my soul—ah, forgive me, Shikrar! We are but new mated and I am wont to speak of my delight."
I could feel his joy, tinged as it was with regret. "Akhor-ishaan, long years have I waited to hear you speak thus. I rejoice for you, my friend, though in all truth my heart would be lighter had thy brave-souled dearling become one of the Kantri instead. Still, the Winds blow over all, and we must trust they will blow us to safety in the end."
"Great heart, I so believe as well, though now I pray to the Lady of the Gedrishakrim as well as to the Winds. Surely the Winds and the Lady between them can well look after us all! But enough of that. Shikrar, speak to me. How fare the Kantrishakrim? What of my people?"
"All is well with us, Varien. It is not thy people that should concern thee, but the land upon which we live. Terash Vor swells with fire again and the earthshakes wakened me from my Weh sleep."
"Shikrar!"
"I am healed enough. It is our home I fear for, Akhor-ishaan. It is not Terash Vor alone that breathes fire. There are others—even Lashti and Kil-lashti are alight."
"Name of the Winds," I swore softly. "Shikrar, have you called a Council?"
"It will take place less than two moons hence—if we are given so long. I fear we will not be. There is something in the air, Akhor, a high sound on the edge of hearing that grows louder and softer but does not stop. I do not know what it means, but it is—unsettling, to say the least."
"Would that I were with you!" I cried in frustration.
"You are better where you are, my friend," said Shikrar dryly. "If we must leave here, we have only one place to go. We will need all the friends we can find to speak for us."
A thought occurred to me, belatedly. "Have you spoken with the Ancestors? Surely the Kin-Summoning—"
"Kedra helps me prepare. It must take place at the dark of the moon, as you know, but that is upon us now and I require time to prepare. I will have to wait until the moon is dark again, but I do not hold out much hope. If ever this island had been so violent before, we surely would have heard of it"
My head was beginning to pound with pain. "My friend, forgive me, but I must go. Truespeech is painful for me now, alas! Know that I am with you in spirit, and I pray you, bespeak me again when the Council begins. I will listen as long as I can."
"I shall do so. Be well, Akhor, and send my true regard to thy lady Lanen," said Shikrar, sending me as he left a beni-son that washed over my weary mind. I returned the same and removed the circlet. Almost at the same moment I heard Lanen bespeak me, asking where I was. I turned and walked slowly back to the camp, reassuring her as best I could while I told her Shikrar's news, and deeply relieved that true-speech with her did not require me to wear my soulgem crown.
We were to make for Verfaren.
VII Salera
Salera saw I first in fire—
Sorrow sealed her, lone child and lost.
Friendship's flameburned fierce between us-
Dear as daughter, she fixed my fate.