[Lanen Kaelar 01] - Song in the Silence (22 page)

I ate gratefully in the tent with
Rella, She was complaining in a general way of how sore her back was, to which
I added my hearty assent, when she glanced up and said, “And how goes your
search, my girl? About given up after that specimen they brought in today, have
you?” I had forgotten that I had spoken to her of my true reason for
coming here. “They didn’t talk much with him, I’d wager.”

I hesitated.
Wrap it in truth,
Lanen, I reminded myself. “No, it didn’t look much like talk. But I
haven’t given up. Marik said Perrin crossed the Boundary. I won’t.”

“Best not, girl. If you come
back looking like that even I won’t have to do with you.”

“And you, Rella,” I said,
trying to make it seem natural. “What brought you here on this fool’s
errand? You never said.”

“Not a fool’s errand if it makes
me filthy rich, is it?” she said with a grin. “I reckon it’s the same
as everyone else, bar you. Though I notice you don’t hold back from gathering
lansip, despite your words.”

I laughed, though she worried me. I
had made a particular effort to keep up with the others as best I could, so as
not to stand out. “And why should I hold back my hand from riches when
they are in my grasp?” I said, defiantly.

“And there’s my answer to your
question. Now either shut up or go away, dearie. I didn’t sleep this afternoon
like you did and I’m shattered.”

I lay back on my bedroll, resting
while I gave Rella time to go to sleep. This was the second of our six brief
nights, and the pattern continued of Harvesters coming and going at all hours,
for which I was desperately thankful. It was just before midnight and all was
still in the camp when I rose as I had the night before, pulled on boots and
cloak and went out into the night.

The moon was well up in the sky, full
and bright, the night gloriously clear. I had not forgotten Perrin—or Marik—but
for all my misgivings my heart was as light as a littling with nothing on her
mind but wild flowers and a clear summer day; like a village maid new-struck
with a lover and giddy with delight. I was living my dream at, last, and even
the shadow of death could not keep me from joy. I could barely keep my feet on
the ground, barely keep myself from laughing out loud.

I sobered a little as I drew near the
Boundary. I peered through the moon-washed trees but could not see him; I had
opened my mouth to speak that name that lay gleaming on my heart, I had even
said the first syllable, when a near-physical jolt struck me, dumb.

All my lightness left me. I must not
be stupid when I spoke with him.

I had been about to speak his true
name aloud, betraying the trust he had given me, without a thought. Thank the
Lady I stopped in time.

Should I resort to “large brother”?
Or use a part of the narne? Or—

Ah.

I took a deep breath, concentrated,
pictured in my mind’s eye that silver face close as a whisper to me, and
murmured a whisper back in my mind.
“My brother?”

I could hear his pleasure as he
replied.
“Well met, little sister.”

I knew where to look for him now, I
could make out the fragments of his silhouette among the branches. As close as
he had been to me last night, it had been terribly dark save for fitful gleams
of moonlight through the clouds. This night, though, was beautifully clear and
near as bright as day. The wind had slackened to a soft breeze, and the full
moon looked down on our meeting place. He moved to meet me, and for the first
time I saw him clearly in all his splendour.

His face was terrifying, all sharp
and hard, like shaped steel armour. There was a spiny ridge that started at the
top of his head and ran down the length of his back (as best I could see) to
the tip of his tail. His wings, vast and leathery, were folded against his
back; his fangs were huge even from a distance, und showed sharp and cruel even
when his mouth was closed.

That was the frightening part.

The rest of him took my breath away.

He looked like the moon on moving
water, the moon on the sea. His hide seemed to have a light of its own and it
shimmered when he moved, glittering in the blue moonlight. As he came towards
me his long sinuous body moved with a slow grace and the veiled promise of
terrifying speed. His scales seemed to stop just under his jaw and at the top of
his head, leaving his face one solid surface. It looked as though it had been
hammered out of purest silver, and the darkness I had seen in his forehead last
night showed itself a bright green gem like a vast, living emerald set in a
silver lake. A great pair of curving horns swept gracefully up and back from
his head, all in a piece with the rest of his face.

I could not speak.

“Little sister?” he said
softly. “Does something trouble you?”

I found myself breathing hard, near
overcome. I wanted to run away, wanted to fall to my knees and worship this
creature, and knew that both were wrong. I closed my eyes.

And that deep sibilant voice, with a
truer gift of music than Marik could ever hope for, whispered, “Little
one, are you not well?”

With my eyes closed at least I could
speak.

“I’m fine, my brother, I—forgive
me, I’ve never truly seen you before. It was so dark last night…” I opened
my eyes again. He wasn’t quite so overwhelming this time. “You are so
beautiful.”

He dipped his head on his long neck,
and the Language of Truth sang in my mind, rahg in my heart, nearer than ever
whisper might come.

“You honour me, Lanen
Kaelar.”

I felt my heart fill like an empty
cup, fill to overflowing, felt a wash like light sweep over me from top to toe
until there was no room for darkness.

I had heard my true name spoken by
one I loved, however disparate our races, and I would have died content at that
moment. I would have missed other, more wondrous things, but I knew even then
that there is no greater joy.

Kantri

“Well met, I say again, Lanen.
Is that how you would be called?”

She smiled up at me, her eyes bright
in the moonlight. “Yes, Lanen is what I’m called. How shall I name
you?”

“I am known as Akhor.” I
returned her smile in the way of my people. (She did not flinch this time,
though I learned later that the sight of my teeth was still frightening.)
“And still you leak seawater. Do tears come so easily to you, Lanen?”

She laughed. “No, not usually.
Only since I met you, and then only for joy.”

I bowed. “May all your tears be
for joy then, sister Lanen. And have you thought on our words last night?”

“I have thought of little else,
Akor, all last night as I lay awake and all today,” she said. I noticed
she could not truly pronounce my name, but from her “Akor” was meet.
“Can you tell me something? You said that our meeting was forbidden. I
think I know what you meant, but if your people have laws I don’t know about,
please tell me.” She paused, but I did not speak yet. “I don’t want
to cause trouble for you over our meeting. I didn’t know if it was an actual
law or well, ever since I left my home I’ve talked to people about wanting to
meet you—your people, I mean. And everyone I spoke to thought I was crazy, one
accused me of wanting gold, one said you weren’t real—and I think the only one
who actually believed me spent most of his time wondering how he might get a
trade advantage.”

I had to laugh—I had heard variations
on those arguments from my own people for hundreds of years. She did draw back
at that. When I asked, she wrinkled her head at me and asked if I was amused or
angry.

“I laughed. That is the word, is
it not? Laugh?”

“Laughing means you find
something funny. Is that what you meant?”

I hissed my amusement at her.
“Yess, Lhanen. If you think, you do the same—I saw you, the day you
arrived—but as you are not creatures of fire, there is no steam or flame to
accompany the laughter.”

“We’re a damn sight smaller,
too, and don’t have near so many teeth,” she answered in what seemed a wry
tone of voice.

“To answer your question about
the ban, littling, would require the telling of a long tale, and that must
wait. Suffice it for now to say that my people have made it a law that we
should not come too near friendship or trust with the Gedri, for in the past
great evil befell my people and yours because of such trust.” I bowed.
“Indeed, I have broken that law to speak with you even so much.”

“But why?” she asked,
genuinely puzzled. “How could I possibly hurt you? Your lightest thought
could destroy me.” Then she shook me as she echoed what I had said to
Shikrar. “Forgive me, my brother, I speak in ignorance, but could it be
that your laws are too harsh in this?”

“You speak with my words!”
I stumbled over the words even as I spoke, so many thoughts were trying to come
out at once. “Where now are the insurmountable differences between us? It
is true, I had to learn your language, but I understand your Attitudes without
thought. I am not as certain of the changes that come over your face. I know
they have meaning, and I suspect that they mesh with the Attitudes of your
people; but taken all in all they are not so strange, and with a little time I
will come to know them. We both laugh when we are amused, we shed flame—or
tears—with great emotion, we watch out the night when there are great things to
ponder … and we do not bear well under laws that are too strict. Surely, my
soul to the Winds, there are no creatures in all the world so similar as we
two, for all our differences.”

And a deeper voice from behind me
said quietly, “And it appears that the Gedri also are heedless in their
encounters with other races.”

Lanen

I must have jumped back ten feet. I
landed in a fighter’s crouch—bless Jamie!—for all the good it would do me here.
They just stared at me, with what I hoped was curiosity. The newcomer had moved
forward a little, and the moon was higher now. I could see them both very
clearly indeed.

It didn’t really help.

The first thing I noticed was the
other was considerably larger than Akor. His great fangs gleamed as he spoke,
the vast wings tucked against his body rippled in the moonlight. His hide was
much darker than Akor’s, but I could still see the gem in his forehead, above
and between the eyes. Both gems caught the moonlight and sparkled, though I
suspected that much of the sparkle came from within. (A fleeting thought struck
me that if Marik ever saw those gems he would move mountains to get hold of
them.) His horns, as he stood, framed the moon for a moment. It was frightening,
but it was unutterably lovely.

And to be truthful, I was fascinated.
I had forgotten their wings when I saw Akor last night, and now I was terribly
curious about them, and about the purpose of the gems. I would like to say I
forgot to be afraid of the newcomer, but in truth I was proud of myself for
simply not running. I had never imagined that something that big could be
alive.

“Is this the wonder I saw in
your mind, Akhor?” he asked. His speech was hard to understand, but I
could tell what he was saying. “She is much smaller, and I do not see the
radiance about her that you do.” He carne very close to me very
quickly—if I had not been so frightened or determined not to move, I might have
been more impressed by the speed at which he moved. As it was I stood there
frozen, using all my strength to hold still.

When his head was only inches from
mine he stopped. He seemed to be smelling me, which bothered me a great deal—it
made him seem for a moment like a huge misshapen beast, a freak of nature,
horrible. I could feel a scream welling up; those huge fangs needed only open
and shut once. With that speed, I might never know I was dead.

Akor spoke and saved me. “Well,
Shikrar, are you satisfied? You could smell Raksha-trace in her grandmother at
that I range.”

I relaxed a little, began to breathe
again. Shikrar drew back (for which I was intensely thankful), but he never
took his eyes from me.

“Why do you stare at me?”
he asked harshly. “I am not the soft fool you spoke to last night, and I
will know the truth when I hear it.”

I tried for a second to think of
something courteous to say, then realised that my idea of courtesy was unlikely
to mean anything. The truth was bald, but I dared say nothing else.

“I was staring because it is
much brighter out tonight—there are no clouds—and I can see you both so much
better I than I could see Akor last night. And because you are even larger than
he, and I do not know you, and I am frightened.”

Akor hissed with laughter. “Well
answered, Lhanen!” he said. “There, my friend, was an answer worthy
of any youngling. Are you still convinced that she opens the door for the
Rakshasa?”

Shikrar snorted; a great puff of
steam. “There is much yet to discover,” he said in a gravelly voice.
“I do not believe the tale she told you. She is not a youngling, Akhor, no
matter what you may think, and even for the Gedri she is no child. What brings
you here, Gedri?” he growled at me. “What tale has brought you so far
from your Kindred? Are you mad? Do you seek after gold? Or is it the thrill of
near approach without violating our law, thus to flout death in its very teeth?
I charge you now, tell me the truth of your call, or I shall dare my friend’s
vengeance and break you where you stand, Boundary or no.”