Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (62 page)

Gaereth
grimaced and spread his hands. “Yep. Funny the things you pick up here and
there.”

“Hell,
I don’t care! Just glad it was there to help out.”

“That
it did, Grandson. Good thing you had a winch on it, though. Took three days to
make the highway and nearly two weeks to work our way to Seattle. Roads were
torn up, towns flattened, electricity gone—had to hand pump gas—it was a real
fight. Afraid there wasn’t much left of your truck by the time we arrived.”

“Again,
I don’t care. If a pickup has to die, that’s the way it ought to go.”

Gaereth
nodded solemnly. “Well, anyway, without knowing how really badly we had
miscalculated, only that you had been translocated, I paid a visit to your
folks in Iowa. Tried to be clever and picked up some average clothing so I
could pose as a distant relative. Your grandmother is one sharp lady, Jeff.
There was no doubt in her mind that I was a relative, but she knew right off
that I was a very distant one.”

“She
doesn’t miss a thing. Never has.”

“That’s
a fact. She also has an astonishing interest in life for her age. A lot of
folks in her generation have given up.”

“I
don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“She
never will, Jeff, and that’s what opened the door for me to talk with your
folks. Your mother took it pretty well when I convinced her you had not been
harmed, little did I know. Your dad was a different story. He’s quiet, but let
me tell you Henry is no man to fool with!”

“No
shit,” Jeff murmured ruefully, remembering occasions when he had attempted to
do so.

“He
finally came around, but not until Regina put some strong moves on him. She was
so proud of what you were brought here to do that she was ready to burst. That
is one fierce lady. She said her only regret was that she was too old to come
herself and lend a hand. Stephen made sure that I would let you know he’s made
up his mind to pursue farming, and that he misses you a lot.”

The
news from home lifted a weight from Jeff’s shoulders. It was wonderful to hear
that Stephen had committed to farming. Although he had studied agriculture at
the state university, the issue had been in doubt for some years. With Stephan
there to help, Henry could keep the farm going. A question that had been
plaguing Jeff for well over a year came to mind.

“Tell
me, is the Alarai home base on Aketti located on an island like England?”

“Yes,”
Gaereth replied with a discomfited expression, “our homeland is on an island
called Skene off the east coast of this continent. It has always been a safe
refuge, maybe too safe. I don’t think anyone except myself has left it in the
last fifty years.”

The
look on Gaereth’s face brought a smile to Jeff’s. “You responsible for those
dreams I had back in Seattle?”

“Afraid
so. I was at the end of my rope by that time and sneaked into your hospital
room. Things were just moving too fast. I had to give you something to hold on
to.”

“And
do what you could to offer choice. It was confusing, but did help.” Jeff
shifted mental gears. “What’s the situation here?”

“There’s
a lot of tension. Maybe ten or twelve tribes have serious blood feuds. So far
we’ve been able to keep a lid on it.”

“Afraid
of that. We have to pull them together fast.”

“It’s
going to pop one of these days soon if we don’t.” Gaereth got up. “Let’s take a
stroll around camp so they can see us together. Sort of a double threat.”

They
left the hall arm-in-arm, Jeff briefing Gaereth on the situation in Rugen as
they walked. That led to a discussion of tactics, strategy, and how to deploy
the Alemanni in battle. The sight of not one but two Alarai moving around camp
soon brought scores of warriors on the run. Many recognized Jeff.

Excitement
grew by the minute as their entourage expanded. Ballads, war songs,
recitations—all were underway at the same time. Conversation was soon
impossible. It was clear that a Telling would have to take place that night.

It
was after dark when warriors began gathering, some still gnawing on a rib or
leg bone. There was a good deal of give and take between tribes while waiting
for the Telling to begin. Most of the exchanges amounted to no more than the
banter of people getting to know one another. Some were not. Conditions were
crowded in the arena facing the meeting hall, and a number of feuding tribes
came into contact. The tension was explosive and might have ignited into open
conflict had not leaders stepped in.

Looking
out of the meeting hall when he judged the time was right, Jeff nervously gazed
across a restless sea of humanity that stretched well beyond the limit of what
he could see by the light of torches. The big crowd was bad enough, but he knew
that something far more potent than a routine Telling was called for. The
future of the tribal confederation, maybe the war itself, was at stake. And it
was his baby—sink or swim.

“What
can I possibly say that will pull them together?” Jeff anxiously said. “So many
bitter rivalries!”

He
reviewed century upon century of murderous ethnic conflict on Earth, and the
repeatedly fruitless attempts to mediate a lasting peace.

“Words,
words! They haven’t been effective on Earth, why should I expect them to work
here? You kill my people, I kill yours. I want your land, you can’t have mine.
That’s what it always boils down to.” A hand squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s
going to be a tough sell, Jeff, but you have what it takes.”

“Wish
I had your confidence, Gaereth. I don’t have any idea what to say. What can be
said in one speech to heal years of bloodshed?”

“It
may be that what must be expressed to them will have to come from the heart,
not your head. You know the Alemanni better than any person on this planet.
What are the unifying, common threads present in all of their lives?”

“I
don’t know!”

“Yes,
I think you do.”

Gaereth
lighted several torches from the fireplace and stepped out onto the porch.
“It’s time, Grandson. Free your heart to speak what it must.”

An
excited rumble swept away from the hall when the Alemanni saw Jeff. He stepped
into the pool of light searching for words, but his mind was blank. Crowd noise
decreased minute by minute until there was no sound except that of a gentle
breeze sighing through the trees. The larger moon sailed into view fully
revealing the number of people. The arena was packed.

God
help me, I don’t know what to say! Jeff thought desperately. I’m going to lose
them!

Nearby
but out of the torchlight, Gaereth stood with Gurthwin and watched the agony of
indecision that played across Jeff’s features. Crossing his arms he let his
mind drift far back through time to other deep-forest arenas, and was
unconcerned.

Torches
sparked, died, and were replaced. The silence continued until it took on a life
of its own. A grumbling mutter of unease slowly began to build. Alemanni toward
the front were shifting restlessly. A wave of emotion emanated from Jeff, and
Gaereth smiled. Standing up straight, Jeff held his arms out to the Alemanni
and raised his voice.

“Shall
we sing of life and hope, sing of joy

 
and spring?

Shall
we wander in snow and cold, reft of

hope
in promise foretold?

Now
we sit and groan, winter that grasps and

winds
that moan.

But
still we know the joy of old!

Life
is strong and shall return, as the sun from

long
sojourn.

Let
us sing of joy and spring!”

Jeff’s
voice wavered at first, grew in strength with each line, and steadied into an
uncertain bass at the refrain. Gaereth stepped into the light, tenor and bass
melding in two-part harmony.

“Now
we seek our heart’s desire, seek the

hearth
and warmth of fire.

Meet
with friends and all be merry, recalling

life
that will not tarry.

Bless
our children, love in holding, faith in

family
ne’er beholden.

Let
us sing of joy and spring!”

Somewhere
in the crowd a feminine voice soared to join the Song of Life in a rich
soprano, and was joined by others across the arena. Then, as if directed by the
fall of a baton, thousands of men and women burst into the next stanza.

“Feel
the promise that moves within, dream of

all
that shall begin.

Cries
of life that greet the day, we sing and dance,

let
all be gay!

Child
and youth, strong and firm, now our

hope
then cherished in turn.

Let
us sing of joy and spring!”

Stanza
by stanza, irresistibly, the song caught a strength that Jeff had not heard
before. A strength that could not be stayed as it soared over meadow and forest
until it disappeared into some realm deep within the star-sprinkled sky.

When
the last voice faded away, when the Alemanni came back to the present and
realized what they had wrought, the only sound to be heard was that of weeping.

Jeff
wiped at his eyes and gripped the porch railing. “The Song of Life! And who did
not know the words? And who did not lend his voice to its power?” Jeff drew
himself up and pounded his fist onto the railing. “Why, then, do you slay one
another! Why do you end the lives of brothers and sisters!”

Some
of those nearest the porch recoiled at the anger in his words, many turned to
look at unfamiliar faces. Having stepped back from the light, Gaereth saw other
warriors doing the same farther back.

“Hang
onto them, Grandson,” he whispered. “You have them thinking.”

“Indeed
they are,” Gurthwin whispered back. “I am deeply moved by the power of this
moment.”

Jeff
wanted to pace very badly, but would not risk breaking rapport with his
audience.

“Now
I will ask you—why did you accept me into your villages? Because my hair is not
like yours? Because my skin is darker? Is this the difference between life and
death? The color of hair and skin?

“You
did not despise me! All villages, all tribes fed and clothed me; gave warmth and
affection in full measure. Nearly I died in the great cold that crushes the
spirit while drawing life from the body. Sharing your warmth my life was
renewed, but my spirit was defeated. I became lost in despair, unmanned by the
sweating fear of death. Yet you did not despise me! Seeing my peril you opened
your hearts, shared your warmth; returned my soul from its wandering.”

Caught
up by memories and emotion, Jeff threw his arms wide. “But tell me, I will have
you tell me! Why do you despise brothers and sisters from unknown villages? Why
do you war with those who live nearby? Have you never wondered that outlanders
refer to you one and all as yellow-hairs? That you speak the same tongue across
your land, have the same customs and cherish song? How can it be but that you
have sprung from the same seed? What are the differences that warrant suspicion
and warfare?”

Some
warriors nodded thoughtfully, but many of those Jeff could see clearly were
frowning in doubt. Quite a few were scowling and a number of these turned their
backs to the porch and walked away.

A
group to the side shook their fists and one of them shouted, “We are not of the
same family! Blood will be avenged by blood!”

Jeff
stabbed his arm out in a broad sweep, and his voice dripped scorn.
 

“Remember
old grievances if you will. Plot revenge and dwell on murder if this is your
way. Take joy in the thought of motherless and fatherless children who are like
unto your own flesh. Do so and surrender this land to others.” Jeff threw his
arms up in disgust and stepped out of the light.

“What
are you doing, Jeff?” Gaereth muttered under his breath “You’re throwing it
away!”

Gurthwin
patted Gaereth on the shoulder in support. “Have faith in what you earlier
said, my friend. He is chancing it all on a throw of the bones, but when has
Jeffrey been loath to risk failure? I must also tell you he had no choice in
this matter. He does, indeed, understand our people and has placed their future
where it must reside—in their hands.”

At
the far end of the porch, Jeff leaned his arms on the railing and bowed his
head. Unease, hoarse mutters, angry voices raised in argument, a scuffle off to
one side. A vast groan of indecision swept the crowd.

“No,
no, no!”

The
voice was so replete with urgency that Jeff raised his head to search for the
source. He saw a man forcing his way toward the porch but could not make out
his features. A way was opened, he bounded onto the porch, and Jeff recognized
him at once. He was relatively young, somewhere in his thirties, and stepped
into the torchlight. Immediately following, a young woman holding a child in
her arms joined him.