[Lanen Kaelar 01] - Song in the Silence (48 page)

BOOK: [Lanen Kaelar 01] - Song in the Silence
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I took a deep breath. ”I have never heard of a
Healer among your people,” I said calmly. “Has
there ever
been one?”

All was silent.

“No,
Lady,”
said Shikrar, trying to keep a quiet delight out of
his voice,
”you are correct. None of us
has ever had that
gift-“

“Many of my people are Healers now. They are
better than you remember, if the last you
knew was what Akor told me in the
Tale of the Demonlord. Not a full day past he carried me
to the camp
nearly dead, my hands and arms so badly burned I thought I should never use
them again. A
Healer came to me and, I am told, spent his whole strength on me— but this
very morning
I was recovered and nearly managed to escape from captivity. A captivity in
which I was
being held for dark reasons I had nothing to do with. I could have made my life
easier by
betraying you to the Merchant Marik, but I did not, and some time before I
warned
you
to beware of him.”

“Your people have Healers and you are not
traitors,” came a voice (translated by Akor). “The
first is a
gift of the Winds, the second but the lack of a weakness, and neither of them
true
achievements
of your Kindred. What else have you to recommend your kind?”

“Generosity and courage!” I shouted
back. “I know you have heard how near I came to death.
I saved the
lives of
Mirazhe
and her son, I drew the child—the youngling—our of her body with my hands when
I already
knew that pain would be my only reward.”

I stopped a moment. “Why do you think I did
that?”’ asked calmly. I turned to Akor. “Even
you, Akor my hear-Why do you think I
did what I did?”

He drew breath to answer, changed his mind, stood
in what I guessed was Curiosity and said,

“I do not know, littling. Why did you?”

 

Akhor

“She is besotted with you, Akhor, she would
throw herself into the fire if you asked her,”
growled Rishkaan from behind me in
the speech of the Gedri.

“No, I would not!” she cried. Her eyes
were blazing, were she one of us she would stand in
Defiance and Instruction, “I am
no child. I am a woman grown, no young fool to kill myself
for love. Not
even for one so dear to me as Akor.” She glanced at me briefly as I
translated,
almost
an apology, but her warrior’s blood was afire and she had no time for delicacy.

“I helped Mirazhe because I wanted to, not
because Akor asked me. I have learned the
midwife’s skills with the females of
my race, I have helped bring forth newborns before.
I
would
do the same for any soul who suffered in childbirth.
It was because I saw Mirazhe as a
fellow creature in need that I risked burned hands and
sickness to save her and her littling.”

She lifted her voice, all her frustration and
anger ringing in the Council chamber. “Who
among you would do as much for one of
my own? And how? You could not, you cannot
assist so, your hands are made for
rending and killing. Those claws, so formidable as
weapons, can barely touch one of my
people without wounding. That is a thing you must
learn, O people of my beloved. How to
touch without destroying!”

The murmur of discontent grew swiftly louder, the
unsettling melody now easily heard. My
people began to stir, fluttering their wings in anger.
”How dare you speak so, we are the
Eldest of the
Four Peoples and have you in our charge!”
cried
Rishkaan in truespeech,
ignoring Shikrar’s commands to be silent.
“All know it. Why else are you made so much
smaller and
weaker, with only your short lives to live and no re:membrance of others to
guide
you?
You should hold us in reverence!”

“Reverence must be earned!” she yelled
back. “Let you learn of my people before you
condemn. You would have sentenced me
to death or exile without ever hearing my voice.
How dare you take such judgement upon
yourselves! Who made you the keepers of life and
death over us? Are we so terrifying,
so evil, that we must be killed on sight? Dear Goddess!
What courage!

“A few nights past, one of my people was killed
for daring to cross the Boundary. Akor tells
me the idiot had had dealings with
the Rakshasa; I am sure he did, in some way at least— an
amulet for
luck, perhaps. Perhaps more. But is death the only answer? His name was Perrin,
and though I
did not know him we had travelled together. He was a youth and foolish in the
way of youth.
Youth makes mistakes.

”Maybe Perrin deserved death, O Kantri, but
maybe he did not. You are so bound by your
laws, you creatures of order, they
dictate so much of your lives. They are killing you! As you
forget how to
value time, as you lose sight of the joy of each single day as it comes and
passes, I
believe you forget how to value life itself. Even—especially—your own.”

Her eyes blazed as she stood tall and faced the
Kindred, her courage bright around her, her
heart as high and fierce as any of
the Kindred that ever lived. “Every time the Harvesters have
come, I would
guess that there is at least one who crosses the Boundary against the treaty.
Is
that
not so?”

“It
is,”
I answered her.

“And what is the fate of that one, or two,
or however many?”

“By the
terms of the treaty they have written their own death in the crossing,”
growled
Rishkaan
in truespeech.

“Death! Always death! Yet consider, O ye of
the Greater Kindred. In all these centuries, what
retribution have the Gedri remanded?
What restitution for all those deaths?”

”They are
due none,”
Rishkaan replied coldly.

“And if my people claimed that Akor broke
the treaty in crossing the Boundary to come to my
aid, that he interfered with Marik,
destroyed property, and that restitution was required? As I
understand
it, there is no provision in the treaty for such a thing, though he did what he
did in
full
view of all my people. What if we in our foolishness were to demand his death,
as we
have
paid with death so many times? Do you tell me you would sit calmly and accept
it, treaty
or
no?”

The murmur died down, as many stopped to consider
her words. However, from one corner a
mind voice rang out.

“You
cannot kill us, Gedri, You are not strong enough.”

She paused a moment for effect, then said one
word, her voice very low and calm.

“Demonlord.”

Every soul in the assembly drew back and hissed,
but she raised her voice and called above
the noise, “All it would take is
one demonlord, from among the many thousands of my
people. One demonlord, to exact
revenge for all the deaths over all the centuries. Yet there
have been
none!”

“Do you
call for Akor’s death?”
hissed Erianss.

“Sweet Goddess, no! No! Not death! Don’t you
understand, do you still not understand me? I
call for life. Life!”

I smelt the seawater as it ran down her cheeks.
“Life for both races, dear people of my
beloved, life truly shared between
Kantri and Gedri—as when the world was younger, and
our two peoples dwelt together in
peace.” She bowed her head. “Oh, my brothers and sisters,”
she said
brokenly, suddenly spent and weary, “I call for life.”

She had no more words. The final echoes of her
voice rang round the walls and met only
silence.

 

Lanen

I had them. One more word and Akor and I would
walk free.

Ah, well.

I heard Kédra’s voice clearly
. “Lanen? Lord Akhor? The Lady Rella whom you left in my
charge bears
news of the Gedri that you must hear. She says it is urgent.

“How
could she have news if she has been in your keeping?”
I
asked him.

”One came
from the camp seeking all of the Gedri, and spoke with her as I kept out of
sight
listening.
She followed after him and was gone for some while, but she has returned.”

I stood motionless on the dais, filled with the fear
that I had not reached the Kantri, and aware
of a rising dread. What news could
possibly have sought her out so far from the camp? Dear
Lady, what had happened
now
?

Kédra’s voice was grim when he spoke again.
“Lady, it is the Merchant Marik. His
order has
gone
out among your people that you are to leave on the morrow. They are beginning
even
now.
And the Lady Rella says that there is no sign of Marik, and that you will
understand
when
she says that she saw him with the demon master not half an hour gone. She says
you
will
know what this means.”

I did. I knew as if I had heard it from his own
lips. I whirled on Akor.

“He got away, didn’t he? He got out of the
cabin before your battle.”

“He did.”

I nearly choked on my own words. “Akor,
don’t you understand? He has already been across
the Boundary and returned. He boasted
of it to me!” I ground my teeth. “I meant to tell you
earlier, but
in the face of that demon I forgot. Akor, he and that slug Caderan must have
found
a
way to hide all trace of his passing from you and yours, even the smell of the
Rakshasa!”

My fists clenched, my gut tightened, I felt the
whole fabric of my impassioned plea to the
Kantri crumbling from under my
fingers, but there was no help for it “Akor, I tell you he is
here in your
lands even as we speak. I know in my bones that he has found kadish or
something he
desires even more. As sure as I live he will take it with him tonight and be
gone
in
the morning. He must be stopped!”

Akor stared at me. “It would explain much. I
could not find you in your imprisonment until
you bespoke me, though once past the
wards the Raksha-sign was obvious and the very air
was thick with it.” He shook his
head, a very human gesture. “Name of the Winds, is such a
thing
possible?”

“It must be. He told me, Akor. He meant to
kill me, he taunted me with it. Oh, dear Lady.
Now we are lost.” I bowed my
head, despair rising in me like a flood until I could hardly bear
it. Here I
had stood before the Greater Kindred, forced them into silence with my version
of
the
truth, forced them to see their failings as a people, and now I must tell them
their fears
were
true and my words the ramblings of a dreamer. I felt as though I had held out a
new
beginning
for Kantri and Gedri shining in my hands, and Marik had snatched it away before
ever it knew
life.

There was nothing else for it. I mustered my
thoughts, how to tell them, how to—

”My people,
hear me!”
called Akor. His voice caught me unawares, stirred my
blood. Even
those
few words had my heart hurrying to answer. His truespeech sang like a call to
battle.

”Truly it is
said the great balance will not be denied. While we work here to find justice,
another has
brought a great evil upon us. The Merchant Marik, he who would have sacrificed
Lanen to the
Rakshasa, has made some new league with them.

“He has
been in our lands already, though no Guardian sensed him sight or smell, and
none
felt
the Raksha-trace even so near. We must disperse now and find him. He seeks
plunder or
worse.
Go carefully, find him if you can. If not, find what has been taken. Look even
unto the
khaadish
in your chambers. Go, my people.”

There was some movement among the gathered
Dragons, but suddenly a voice rang loud in
my mind. Someone else was shouting in
the Language of Truth.

“She is
here as distraction, Akhor, it is a plot between them!”
cried Rishkaan before any other
could speak. His voice flew high, cracking with
emotion. I shrank back. Suddenly Rishkaan
reminded me of Marik, Marik with his
knife at my throat.
“She must be
kept under guard lest
she escape the Council’s decree!”
He moved
towards me with the grace and speed of a striking
snake, he was upon me in an instant.
I cowered and raised my arms, turning my head away,
for I knew that my death was come
upon me.

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