Aessa's Children8

AESSA'S CHILDREN: BOOK ONE -- THE LAST BORDER
By V. A. Watts
(c) 1993

NOTE: This work is under a registered copyright and unauthorized distribution is prohibited and will be prosecuted. All characters are fictional and of my own invention. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Note on pronunciation: Proper Names and nouns within the language most commonly used on Aessa, Lliyassean, allow that each letter have its own sound. The first vowel in each word is long, the following vowels hold the short sound. Therefore, the name Thana is pronounced: T-HAYN-AH. Maygra is MAY-IH-G-RAH, Kieri is KI-ERR-IH, and Jael is JAY-EL. Diminutives such as Jai and Mag are pronounced as written, so Jai would be Ji (long "I") and Mag would be Mag with a short "a". The use of glottal stops is pervasive. Words ending in "I" are masculine gendered, "a" indicates feminine gender, "n" indicates plurals. Partial Glossary is at the end of each chapter.

CHAPTER NINE
"It's a Haian settlement," Mikayl informed them breathlessly; his words shadowed by little puffs of steam forming in the autumn air. He was winded from his run back from the low knoll. They had come upon the traces of inhabited territory at dawn -- a well-used cart track leading from the small hulden across the meadow, and dropping into a shallow valley. "It's not very large, a dozen or so huts, a common livestock pen and a smithy," he added. "There's a storage building close to the hill, dug half into the dirt. If we wait until dark, we should be able to shelter there without anyone seeing us," he said, dropping to the ground beside Maygra. They were all on their stomachs, watching the cald from a low hill.
Maygra gnawed on her lower lip, her thumb idly rubbing the longer scar on her cheek. Try as she might, she could get no sense of the place. Nor had Mikayl. It had been Renn who had spotted the cart track and Osra who had smelled woodsmoke.
"What do you sense, Osra?" she asked the guardswoman. They had come to rely heavily on Osra's increased sense of smell and Renn's very acute hearing.
The woman lifted her head, sightless eyes fixed on the distant village. She looked like a wild thing, sniffing at the air, her black hair ragged and matted in its tangled braid and her clothing -- all of their clothing -- not much better.
"Smoke; wood and fire rock. Milk beasts and . . . ," she smiled faintly, "someone's doing laundry. Nothing much else -- smells like Urgen Cald but without the hot springs."
"Bells," Renn volunteered from his place at Maia's side, his oddly direct gaze locked on Osra.
Osra grinned at the boy. "The smithy's going -- he hears the ring of bright-stone."
The two had become the only active Gifts in the group aside from Jael's Shield. Mundane smell and hearing -- it was all they dared rely on.
Maygra shifted her gaze to Jael, meeting the pleading gaze with uneasiness. They needed someplace warm and dry to bed for the night and if the population was as sparse as Mikayl said, there was no reason not to take advantage of a dry barn and the opportunity to do a little modest pilfering.
Her own instinct for caution seemed to have abandoned her and she sighed, rolling back onto her stomach and inching up to the top of the knoll.
"What is it, Mag?" Damyn asked softly attuned to her confused emotions. Whatever respite Sura's interference had gained him had faltered under their need for his Gift to save Mikayl and Jael. He had grown gaunt during the autumn despite the strength they saved by taking the Hai'Karin eihnen mounts from the hyuld where Laric died. Maygra had taken advantage of the mounts, riding furiously north, barely stopping to gain supplies. Fall had brought them within sight of Itheron's northern ranges, farther north than any of them had been before. Haian settlements were denser here, nestled under the Graen's looming peaks, separated by small rivers and less natural boundaries only the Haian understood. When the snows began falling, Maygra headed west, trading the stolen eihnen for warmer clothes, supplies and information. The information had been priceless. The supplies and clothes less enduring.
"Nothing," she said. "Too easy, I guess. All right. Settle in like mice until dark then Mal and I will find an easy way in."
No one made a sound, but there was a sudden feeling of relief throughout the group. They would have suffered another cold night if Maygra ordered them to do so, but she had not the heart.
To bide her time, Maygra made a mental list of what things they needed, in order of importance, if they could be obtained. Foraging had become a way of life but she was cautious -- take too much from any one hamlet or holding and someone would suspect thievery. Taking small amounts could be easily chalked up to normal loss and she was always quick to move, fast and far, before the refugees could be discovered.
It galled her to know they had become like their old enemies, the Hai'Karin, in so many ways. Nomadic, dependent on thievery to survive, aimlessly wandering. She had twice turned them north again, but some vague feeling of danger always drove her south and west again and she was at a loss to explain to her companions why. They had not overtly questioned her plan and she was grateful, for she had none. Instinct drove her on and luckily she had proven right more often than not. Nevertheless, they all still suffered from Sura and Laric's, loss and while Maygra had come to finally believe she could not have prevented the Healer's death, she took full responsibility for Laric.
And Jael, of course, blamed himself. She studied him as he lay next to Maia, propped on one arm, his face hooded and unreadable once more. He no longer offered advice or discussion on anything. He maintained his Shield and his silence and initiated nothing. Mikayl had gone out of his way to be his erstwhile companion, to prove to his friend the wound Jael had inflicted was healed and forgotten, but Jael seemed not uncaring but distant. He had even given up playing with his son, as if his touch would somehow taint the child, but he stayed close by, a silent guardian to mother and child.
Part of the problem, Maygra reasoned, was the pair of them were still bound together by Kion, but nothing else. Maia was as withdrawn as her former mate. She was aware and alert, contributed to her share of the work, kept an eye on the children and led Osra as they walked, but she offered no counsel or opinion either.
The decisions had fallen to Maygra and she was beginning to wish someone would argue with her, just a little, as her senses and reasoning seemed to become more and more dulled. Mikayl would question her for clarity but only Damyn seemed inclined to offer any differing of opinion, however, he had not the strength for prolonged argument.
And she needed counsel. Winter was setting in steadily, even as they moved south, and they could not continue moving much longer unless they crossed the Ayr Riyv; a move she was disinclined to follow -- she was tempted to turn east again, return to the heavily settled area along Itheron. At one time she had hoped to move westward across Irrekas, but something urged her to double back. They needed a place to hole up for the winter, preferably in one of the hulden where game and roots and winter berries could keep them fed and a cave or hollow could keep them protected.
The hulden they had passed so far had been small and unlikely to provide shelter, much less food. She idly wondered if they might not find a Haian settlement which would let them stay in exchange for work or hunting, but she was not sure she liked that alternative either. Their pursuers seemed to have lost the trail for now -- they had seen no vegen for over a month -- but there was no guarantee they had been thrown off completely and Maygra had no desire to see some unsuspecting cald or fair become victim to Kieri misfortune. Steal from them she would, but not bring on their slaughter.
Mikayl nudged her and she looked up startled. Dusk had fallen without her noticing and her brother was eager to mark the path to shelter.
Hiding her unease at having become so lost in her selfish thoughts, Maygra got up quickly, taking up her axe and Laric's long knife. "If we find a safe path, Mikayl will come back for you," she whispered to the seven pairs of eyes fixed on her. "If he is not back by the time Ka rises above the horizon, or if you hear any sound of conflict, return to the hulden beyond the meadow and dig in," she warned.
Jael and Osra nodded agreement, moving up to take the watch positions Maygra and Mikayl abandoned.
The cald was not far, but the siblings moved slowly, wary of watch dogs or late strollers. Half the time allotted passed before Mikayl finally brought her along the back of the outbuilding he had sighted. They split up, exploring each side then met again at the rear.
"Two doors on the cald side," Mal whispered. "One larger-for carts probably. The other looks like it leads into a loft of some sort."
"There's another on the far side," Maygra replied, "and a trap on the roof near the hill. It looks clear enough. We'll enter on the far side and open your smaller door to keep watch. Hurry now and I'll look inside. Don't come in any closer than the hill unless you see me outside the door," she cautioned.
Mikayl nodded and was off, a silent shadow against the earthen wall.
Maygra waited until he had disappeared from sight before entering the structure, leaving the door open just a crack and giving her eyes time to adjust to the darkness. Much of the building's contents she could not discern in the gloom, but her exploration led her to the farthest end, well dug into the hillside. There she found another chamber, the half door open. Probing hands found a lamp and it took only a second to bring it to a tiny glow, barely lit but enough additional light to let her know the room was not unlike the damp cellars built under ground at Rhema. Casks of salted goods -- winter stores -- lined the chamber and wooden racks held summer-set furs, prepared and stored for spring tanning. They were past ripe, she was glad to note and would be warm if a bit smelly. Even in the dark earthen chamber she would not risk a fire, but they might be able to get by with a small light.
She felt her face grow sore and realized she was grinning ear to ear. This cald, though small, seemed to be wealthy and most of her list of needs could be met in this room alone -- and the cald none the wiser until spring.
She doused the light quickly and returned to meet the others, surprised when Mal appeared the moment she emerged from the building. She had been exploring longer than she thought. The fact sobered her instantly. She was definitely losing her edge. She scolded herself soundly and instantly went on alert -- keeping watch as the others scrambled down the hill and into the relative safety of the storage shed. Maygra led them to the hill chamber, Mal bringing up the rear. She had him wait outside with instructions, closing the door behind them before lighting the lamp once more. A few moments later he tapped twice then twice again and she turned the lamp down before letting him in.
"Not a flicker," he said with a chuckle. "They built the dividing wall solid enough. It's covered in thatch and mud to keep the dampness out."
"And the light in," Maygra sighed, some of her good humor returning. She turned the lamp up once more and couldn't resist smiling as the treasures in the chambers were revealed.
"Goddess below," Jael murmured as he saw the racks of furs and casks of stores.
"One of us will have to keep watch by the outer door," Maygra warned but pointed upward. "There's a trap there but I don't want to have to try to get all of us out through there if there's trouble."
"I'll watch first," Renn volunteered and Maygra nodded, reaching into the closest cask and pulling out a handful of something sweet smelling and semi-soft. She nibbled a corner then stuffed dried fruit into the bag over her shoulder. "These will keep your stomach quiet until you can get a real meal," she said, handing him the bag and her water skins. "Mal, show him your side door," she ordered and dimmed the light as the pair slipped into the outer structure. "Now, let's see what other provisions our hosts have set out for us."
By the time Mikayl returned, they had found a score more casks with a variety of dried fruit, salted meat and four large casks with half-fermented wine. It was sweet and heady, but mixed with water it was drinkable and warmed their insides considerably. Jael and Damyn pulled furs off the racks making a large comfortable pallet, stiff and a bit rank, but warm. Osra's sharp nose guided the Healer to another, smaller set of racks and by smell, taste and the aid of Mag's lamp, Damyn was able to identify a quantity of dried herbs to replenish his healer's kit.
It was Kiva who found the most needed treasure. She perched on a long narrow set of small boxes on as she ate, boxes Maygra ignored at first because they were not secured as the cases for foodstuffs were. Kiva idly raised the lid of one and at her soft "ah" brought her elder's attention to the find.
Cloth and garments, laid between pressed sheets of straw and sweet herbs, the boxes lined with wool to keep out the damp. Plain and festive, obviously meant for trading.
"I feel as though I've walked into Aessa's garden," Maygra breathed, holding up a sturdy and beautifully woven red long-tunic to Mikayl's thin frame. It took only a few minutes before they were all -- more or less quietly -- shedding their filthy, torn clothing for rough homespun tunics and trous. They took none of the finer things, though even Maia's eyes seemed to shine for a moment as she held up a beautifully embroidered festival gown of green and blue. Nor was it the thought they might be depriving their unknown hosts of a goodly amount of income. The rough wool and homespun would serve them better in the long run.
"I feel as though I should take a bath first," Damyn commented drily as he shrugged into a long tunic dyed russet red, not unlike his cast-aside Healer's gown.
"This is as good as a bath," Osra said sliding into a pair of gray trous and leggings, stretching her toes against the soft wool. She mumbled her thanks as Maia topped off her new clothing with a heavy, oversized shirt, cursing a little as her matted hair got tangled in the hood. "I should cut the damn thing off," she muttered then turned her blind eyes unerringly to where Mal and Maygra stared at her.
Even in the dim light, it was easy to see the flush creeping over her pale face. She bit her lower lip, then shook her head a little at the silence. "Don't be so appalled. I'm no guardswoman, not anymore," she said softly. "I can't see. I'm head-blind as any Haian, and . . . oh, what's the use?" she mumbled with a sound like half a sob.
Maygra dropped the tunic she had been about to put on and grasped Osra's upper arms. "You're as much a guardswoman as ever, Osra," she said sternly, giving the other woman a little shake. "Blind or no. And as for being head-blind, well, I can tell you from experience it takes more than the Gifts of the Goddess to make one a warrior."
"That's not what I meant," Osra whispered, tears falling slowly. "I would never betray my Oath to the Watch, Mag, but I've lost the call for it -- it's not the blindness itself -- it's what I feel. I'm helpless -- or close enough it doesn't matter anymore. I can't depend on myself --."
"Don't!" Maygra said harshly. "Whatever you lost in Sight, you've gained in other ways! We would have tripped right over this cald had not your nose told us to look first."
"It's not the same!" Osra said and jerked away, tripping over the furs. She sprawled ungracefully onto the floor and struggled to get up, finally giving up to roll onto her stomach, her sobs muffled against the skins.
Maygra started to go to her but Jael grabbed her arm. "Leave her, Maygra. I know how she feels. I feel the same way. And it has nothing to do with Gift or injury. Wherever you lead I will follow, but there's no fight left in me either. Survival isn't enough. Not for this, not for this long."
Maygra pulled away, half in anger and half in guilt for the echo of her own feelings. Unlike Laric, there was no challenge in Jael, only resignation. He was not questioning her right to lead or how she led, only that whatever or wherever she was leading them to gave them no hope.
She looked at Mal seeing her own confusion reflected in his eyes. Maia had gone to Osra's side and Damyn would not meet her gaze. Nor had she any answer for them. Wordlessly she handed Mal the light, grabbed up the discarded tunic and left the room to relieve Renn.
The boy was surprised to see her so soon, but she sent him on his way without explanation. She shrugged into the tunic and settled herself by the cracked door, her gaze fixed on the cald, her thoughts fixed on nothing.
How long she sat, she had no idea. When Mal came to take his turn, she sent him back. She felt no fatigue. She felt nothing. Her own sense of purpose was gone. Even her anger had left her. She had only one thought, why? Why did they go on? Why had this been laid on her? Why had she no answer? There was no self-pity in her question, only a vague futility.
And it was the futility of the circular question which finally lulled her to sleep, dreamless and sound.

She was stiff and cold when she awoke and her muzzy brain cleared quickly with the onslaught of guilt and anger. The hazy gray pre-dawn light was already touching the sky and she cursed softly as she turned from the window to rejoin the others. The curse turned to a gasp as she found herself observed.
How the man had approached her without alerting her made the guilt all the sharper. He sat not an arm's length away, comfortably ensconced, the dull gleam of an unsheathed sword resting casually across his knees.
Her own hand went to the knife at her side and the sword suddenly became far less casual.
"Now, lassen, I've got the reach on ye, so ye'd best relax a mite," he said in a soft friendly drawl. "I've no quarrel with yer finding' a warm place to nest, an e'en borrowing a bit to eat. An none'ull miss that rough weave. But ye's a touch battle scarred for a rover and from the looks o'the grass outside the door, ye're not alone."
Maygra said nothing, her wary eyes shifting from the blade to the man's face. He was older, his brown face lined by weather and time -- older than any Haian she had ever seen, yet his body, stocky and square, was sturdy and strong and there was a suppleness to his brief movements she had never seen in an older Haian.
She made no glance toward the dugout storage room, but his eyes shifted and she tensed, ready to restrain him and call warning all at once. Her intent must have been in her face for she suddenly found the tip of the sword pressed lightly against her throat. And she had not seen him move!
"I've said I have no quarrel, lassen. A bit of talk is all I want and I think yer'en the one to speak -- rather than yer friends asleep back there."
"We mean no harm," she said, pulling on the long unused Haian dialect. "We planned to leave before dawn, our bodies a little warmer and our supplies replenished -- you seemed to have enough our `borrowing' would cause no hardship. Only what we need."
"Aye, I can see that and Jyrisa will be glad ye didn't borrow any of her fancy clothes for they bring a good price at market. An'yur right, we'd not miss a bit come spring. No, lassen, what I want to know is why ye'd take without askin'. Ye could use a bath I'd say and ye've the look of one on the run. So my question is, who are ye runnin' from and will it come here?"
Maygra swallowed uneasily, feeling the blade point slide against her skin. "I think not, if we keep moving. Our pursuer seems interested in us alone -- that's why I didn't ask. The less involved others are in our troubles, the less likely trouble is to involve them."
The man nodded and suddenly the sword was down and he was rising to his feet, hand extended to her. "Fair enough. Come introduce me to yer kin, swordswoman. DunStan Cald can provide charity," he amended when she stiffened again. "Or a friendly hand to those that's worthy."
She met his gaze, searching for deceit, and finding none took his proffered hand, getting stiffly to her feet. He led the way, climbing down the narrow ladder with the nimbleness of a child and never looking back. She followed him uneasily, startled when he thrust the sword into the dirt outside the door. He hesitated then and stepped aside.
"Soomup are awake. I think ye should break the ground," he said with a small smile and graciously stepped aside.
Maygra eyed the sword speculatively for a moment then drew a deep breath and knocked twice, then twice again.
It was Renn who opened the door, the eyes in his impassive face fixed on her as he stepped back. Maygra entered only to be jerked aside as her companion followed. She barely had time to warn Mikayl not to harm the old man, when her brother was flung to the side and Jael found himself on the ground, the old man astride him with one knee on his chest and Mikayl's blade poised at the younger man's throat.
"Not friendly like, are ye?" the old man asked softly, not even breathing hard from his exertions.
"Please, don't hurt him," came a soft, pleading request from Maia. She stood to the side, pressed against the fur racks, Kion in her arms and Kiva hiding against her skirts. Osra stood beside the trio, protectively, a notched arrow at her bow, aimed unerringly at the Haian.
The old man stared at the women and children, his eyes narrowing at Osra's unwavering gaze. He grabbed Jael by the collar, hauling him to his feet with uncommon ease, stepping to one side and holding Jael in front of him.
"Now that's an odd request," he said, eyes widening as the arrow shifted after he spoke, now aimed at Jael's chest. "If ye let that dart go, lassen, it'll be yer friend ye kill, not me -- he's before me."
Osra's aim wavered as her bluff was discovered. Hesitantly she lowered the bow.
"He means us no harm. I think," Maygra said softly, restraining Mikayl with an outflung arm.
"Aye. Now I'll put down thissen's blade, youngster, if ye'll put down yers," the Haian said and relaxed his grip as Jael's blade fell to the dirt. The old man lowered Mikayl's sword and gave Jael a gentle push forward, Maia reaching out to catch his hand and draw him close.
"Not what I expected," the old man said quietly, his gaze sliding over each of them in turn, unerringly accurate despite the dim light. Acting on impulse, Renn opened up the lamp, broadening illumination into the darkened chamber. "Not what I expected at all, " the man repeated, his gaze fixed on Renn. "I could see a bit of cast off warriors, but yer not all battle bait -- or are ye? Aye. I ken see ye've all seen the blood o' battle, even the tiny one. So I'll ask again, who is it yer runnin' from and are they gon't' visit my doorstep?"
"We don't know," Renn began before anyone could speak, coming closer to the man. "They just came and killed everyone and tried to steal us and then Maygra got us away. We've not stopped since, because they find us and we need to rest because we keep dying 'cause we're tired and scared."
The man had dropped to one knee, on level with the boy as he told their tale in a breath.
"More of ye when ye started, eh, boy?" the old man said kindly.
Renn nodded and glanced at Jael. "Laric, his brother -- the ones following caught him and . . . my--my mother. She let Jai kill her 'cause she was tired and she couldn't help Dami and Mag and she wanted to rest, and I miss them and my friends," he added with a gulping sob.
Jael went pale under the direct gaze of the strange man, but did not look away and the man nodded. "Not an easy road, by far. So what now?"
"Now, if you'll allow," Maygra said coming up behind Renn, her hands on his shoulders. "We have what we came for. A night's rest, food and supplies. We'll work the payment off if you like. Hunt, build, work however you like and then be off -- before the path to your door becomes apparent."
The old man scratched his head. "Well, it's a lot to provision eight and there's not much can be done with winter setting -- could take ye all the snow season to work it off."
Maygra felt her mouth tighten and drew Renn a little away.
"Still, there is the huntin' and ther's winter stores to gather -- coursen, ye'll have to eat and be clothed for cold weather work. An' there's the little one to think of -- can't eat much, nor contribute though that's a sturdy ladden," he added with a sly smile at Renn. "He might'en be set to blade sharpenin' and if'n we can teach him to hunt, that'd add to the payment." He shook his head. "I dun't know, swordswoman, it seems you'll have to bed down fer the winter if'n ye mean to make payment."
It took a moment for the offer behind his words to sink in and Maygra could then only stare at the man.
He smiled. A genuine, warm, open grin making him younger and older all at the same time. What say you, Maygra of the Sword. Will you break your journey here?
Maygra shook her head, not in refusal but in bewilderment for the voice was inside her head and outside all at once and from the looks on the faces of her companions, the invitation had been extended likewise to all of them. Even Kion gave a startled little coo from his mother's breast.
"Who are you?" she whispered, pulling Renn tightly against her for fear and protection.
"DunStan's the name. The cald is mine, or enough of mine to make it so. Ye've not answered, lassen."
"We're pursued . . . ."
"An' won't be found, not for a time. I can assure ye. DunStan Cald is a hard place to find -- especially in the winter. An' he," he pointed at Jael, "can let go of that Shielden' o'his. DunStan's got its own ward."
Jael gasped, his Shielding sliding away easily as rainwater, through no effort of his own. "You're not Kieri," he mumbled, drawing Maia closer for support.
"Nae. But I know of ye. The Goddess blesses all her children in some way. It's gettin' cold and the dawn's coming fast. Will ye stay to see the sun set?"
Renn was nodding with a laugh even as Maygra met the kind gaze and said, "Yes."

Once Maygra agreed it was as if an announcement had been made. Emerging from the barn, they were greeted by a dozen or so men and women, each as open and accepting as DunStan himself. An older couple moved out of their small cottage to spend the winter with their daughter and son, turning the open space over to the confused Rhemans with a laugh and a friendly tour. DunStan took Osra aside, examining her sight with non-healing but somehow knowing fingers, shaking his head at the injury which had robbed her of her sight.
"Ye'll not get your sight back, lassen," he said at her urgent question. "Yer Healer's got the right of that. But you wait and learn," and called over a youngish man, about Osra's age. "This'ns Hal. He's no sight either but he does fine. You get to know each other," he added and turned to Damyn.
The Healer did his best to avoid DunStan's probe, but the older man was a compelling force. At the end however, he shook his head at the Healer's condition as well. "There's somethin' not right about you, ladden, but it'll take me time to latch onto it."
"I need rest mostly," Damyn said, oddly guarded. "The last month's have been . . . hard."
"Hard is not the word I'd use, but I'll let it rest . . . for now," DunStan agreed.
Kion was turned over to a midwife under Maia's half-hearted protest, but DunStan led her to a bed and settled her as Maygra and Jael watched nervously. "Ye've no heart in ye for the babe, lassen," he said, not unkindly. "Jyrisa will tend to him while ye tend to ye."
Food and clothing, hot baths and warm blankets were pressed on the little group until Maygra could take no more. She waved Mikayl off when he would have followed her and sought the open air, struggling with her mixed suspicions and gratitude.
She walked the perimeter of the small cald, pausing now and then to watch as someone new ran into their assigned cottage. Every new visitor carried some bundle, "just the thing," and again when she heard mingled and long missed laughter echoing from the shelter from Mikayl and Renn.
Is it so hard to accept kindness? DunStan asked silently, appearing at her side as silently as he had at dawn. She stopped and stared, thrown off guard by his easy entry into her mind. No surprise there, lady. You and I have much in common. I know you as well as I know myself.
"Hardly. How can you do what my closest kin cannot?" she demanded all her fears coalescing into one angry accusation.
"Because I'm not your kin, Maygra," he said, the drawl gone and his manner younger than before. "Your gift is both less and more than theirs. It's because it's a rare Gift you have so much difficulty. None can match it."
"You seem to know a lot about us."
"I do. We heard tales of the great Keep at the base of Itheron laid to waste in a single day. Not a soul alive to say why. And of the Bredas Hulden burning till there was nothing left above the Riyv. Fear has spread from your misfortune. The calden and fairen have taken up arms against an enemy they have never seen. The old adversary of the Kieri, the Madrai, is being blamed, but there's been no blight and naught else but rumors."
"It wasn't the Madrai," Maygra began then paused. "Or maybe it was. I don't know. I've never seen it."
"If you're lucky, you never will," DunStan said softly and when she looked, he seemed old and tired again.
"Who are you?" she asked again, a touch of awe in her question.
He smiled faintly. "DunStan. That's all I am. All I ever want to be again. You folk of Rhema have forgotten much of your past -- and your future is cloudy, but it's there, Maygra, as I stand on this ground, your future is there."
Warrior's mind churning she stared off toward the west. "Are your folk descended from the Kieri of the Crossing?" She asked.
"Nay. We saw them pass, generations ago. They did not see us -- had no need of us, I suppose."
"Do you know what happened to them?"
"Parts. They made new homes, across Irrekas. Into the mountains. A few came back. I don't know what happened to them. As I said, they did not need us."
"I've thought of following the path of the Crossing," she admitted walking again. "But it seems risky -- for us as well as them. Our pursuers attacked us because we are Kieri -- they may be Kieri themselves."
DunStan shook his head. "Some like, but not truly Kieri. Not any longer. I think you should seek your lost kin, Swordswoman -- or perhaps their path. As I said, your future is wrapped in clouds. I can see no clear course."
"Seer, Healer, warrior -- but not Kieri. You're a puzzle, DunStan."
He laughed and touched her arm lightly. "Nae, just a man -- an'a smart one, lassen. Don't ye ever doubt it."

The initial flurry of activity surrounding the arrival of the refugees had moderated somewhat by nightfall, when a light snow began falling. Well stocked with firewood and blankets, provided with hot food and baths, the group was finally left alone, minus the children who were housed next door with Jyrisa and her mate and their three children, oddly akin in ages to the Rheman children. Maia slept, Jael spread out on the floor beside her bed, although he had one of his own. In the common room, Osra was bundled up near the fire, her hair freshly washed and cut short, though she had the clean, rebraided rope in her lap. She had said nothing about her decision to cut the warrior's braid and Maygra was too tired and confused to press the issue. Damyn, too, was wrapped in a blanket and dozing by the fire. His pallor somewhat lessened by the warm reddish glow of the fire.
Maygra forced herself to be still, refusing to give in to the urge to pace the room. Mikayl prowled the edges of the room as if to embody his sister's restlessness.
"You're taking this sudden bounty very well, Mag," Damyn commented sleepily.
"I'm too tired to do otherwise," she retorted. "Mikayl, sit down before I pounce on you," she snapped. Startled, he did so, folding his long frame to the floor to stare at her.
"M'sorry," she mumbled. "I'm edgy too. None the less for being caught so easily this morning." Recriminations were not forthcoming and she winced at the silence.
"It's all right, Mag," Damyn said gently. "We were safe and warm for the first time for months. All of us let our guard down."
He got no response and wearily he came to sit beside her, sliding an arm around her shoulders tentatively. She did not pull away so he let it rest there, relieved he felt no errant stirring of his Gift. Whatever "wards" DunStan had meant, they seemed to extend to his overly sensitive state as well and without strain on Jael.
"Are we to stay the winter, Mag?" Mikayl finally asked and she looked up to find his and Osra's eyes fixed on her.
She sighed and leaned against Damyn, careful not to apply too much weight, but he seemed solid enough. "It seems so. I think our erstwhile host would stop us if we tried to leave -- no, not by force," she amended. "These folk may not be Kieri, but they've something of the Goddess and he seems to think we present no danger -- or that they could handle it if we did."
"We thought so too," Osra said quietly.
"No," Maygra contradicted, "we were caught unawares. Somehow, I think catching DunStan unawares would be beyond even the Madrai's ability. We're safe for now, but we'll keep on guard. Mikayl, do you feel up to a little sentry duty?"
Her brother grinned and got to his feet catching up his newly acquired fur lined cloak. "Till Ka sets?"
"Yes. I or Jael will relieve you. I'll let him sleep a bit first."
Mikayl nodded and headed toward the door only to be met by one of the cald's young men, dark hair damp from snow.
"You'll not remember, but I'm Terrin. DunStan asked me to tell you we've set sentries at the four quarters, so if you're out for a stroll, and are hailed, answer quickly."
"We will," Maygra replied wide-eyed and nodded as he took his leave. "Well," she stammered when he was gone.
"Well, well," Damyn said with a chuckle and slid back down into his blankets.

It snowed for ten days. It was not a blizzard, but a gentle fall obscuring any tracks the Kieri might have left in entering the cald and kept the inhabitants inside except to tend livestock. The cottage housing their fugitive guests became a favorite meeting place. The numbers were few at first, honoring the refugees need for privacy and rest. However, at mid-morning a head would pop in to make sure things were all right. Jyrisa and her husband would bring Renn and Kiva over as soon as the adults were awake and sit for a bit before excusing themselves for tasks and errands. At evening they would come back with Kion and visit for a while longer, sometimes bringing something Jyrisa had prepared for dinner and sometimes joining the group in whatever Jael or Mikayl had prepared, then gather up the little ones and return to their own cottage. A few days later they were joined by another couple, one woman daring to ask Maia if she thought the colors in the cloth she'd been dyeing were even throughout. After that, evenings would frequently find some neighbors at the door for a chat or to share something. They never stayed long, nor pressed questions, but their presence and the comings and going became commonplace and comfortable. Only DunStan stayed away and Jyrisa's only response to Maygra's question was he was off in the wild on some errand. The thought made Maygra uneasy at first, but she set it aside for the time being.
After five days of resting, Maygra and Mikayl grew restless and began prowling the cald in mid afternoon. They spent some of their time in admiration of the layout of the cald and its defensibility. The cald was laid out in a semi circle with outbuilding and dirt works and orchard encircling. Mikayl was fascinated by the smith, who in winter months worked not on black-stone and bright-stone weapons and tools but on delicate jewelry to be sold at spring trading. Maygra was more often than not drawn to the livestock pens, her presence greeted with a smile by Terrin who took care of the graceful, muscular eihn stallions. He broke the thin necked beasts to rein and saddle, training them for riders who would buy the stock when the weather turned. She even found the heavier plow oxen, with their even temperaments and plodding ways, interesting. Rhema had kept some livestock, two score mounts for the Watch and some field beasts, but other than on patrol, Maygra never much cared for the animals. She rode well enough, but the yardmaster tended what saddle varinen Rhema kept and she was never aware which mount she rode. Terrin had a name for each and a manner to match their temperaments. The gentle ones he coaxed, the headstrong ones he mastered and never with more than a word and a touch.
She spent her time with him in silence and he was never the one to break it. One of the beasts took a liking to her and when he was turned out into the corral he would come and stand before her, great solemn eyes regarding her patiently. When she finally dared extend her hand, he came willingly, nuzzling her neck and whiffing at her hair. It took no coaxing from Terrin to get her into the yard, walking with her new friend and sometimes even playing, though she waited until Terrin left on other errands.
The snows stopped; cold air settling the whiteness into ice. Maygra continued her walks and joined the cald folk on a watch or two, noting they kept as alert as her own guard had been trained to do. It settled her mind somewhat for DunStan had not returned and while his kin did not seem anxious, her own doubts were becoming harder to suppress. What errand could draw a man out into the cold for ten plus days? Who or what had he gone to see? The watch gave her time to muddle through her doubts and suspicions without involving the others. It also gave her time to think about her own kin.
The rest and shelter had done wonders for Renn and Kiva. They looked healthier, and while they were not apt to join in loud games with Jyrisa's brood, they seemed content to play quietly or to explore a bit. Maygra had come to realize Renn's openly affectionate manner was gone forever. He still sought to be physically near either her or Damyn whenever possible, but the spontaneous hugs and mischievous nature had vanished, leaving a solemn youth, far more mature and cautious than his years.
Kiva took her cue from Renn. She shadowed him everywhere though he seemed not to mind. She went willingly enough with Jyrisa each night but not without constant backward glances at whoever watched them walk the short distance to Jyrisa's holding.
Of the children, only Kion seemed to be making a slow recovery. He ate well but cried often and Maia was as apt to give him to Jael or Jyrisa as comfort him herself. Indeed, it seemed as if as he gained slow strength, Maia lost more of her own. She was not ill but she seemed content to stay within their cottage, rarely venturing outside. Jael no longer slept on the floor by her bed but often sought the warmth of the hearth and even ventured out on a watch or two.
Of all of them only Osra and Mikayl seemed to find genuine joy in the cald. Mikayl was bound and determined to learn all the blacksmith, Henel, could teach him and Osra had taken DunStan's word to heart and spent a great deal of time with Hal, exploring the cald or just talking.
And Damyn maintained. Maygra could think of no other way to describe the Healer's ongoing malaise. He was cheerful, ate well and slept a great deal. Some color and weight had returned, but like Maia, he was making no great advances in health or well being. Still, he got no worse which was something.
Maygra continued to be uneasy. Sometimes she felt as if they were suspended in time. She had ventured outside the cald on three occasions only to return more uneasy than when she left -- it felt as though she had stepped out from under Jael's Shield -- her senses raw and overwhelmed by anything outside the cald until even the kindness of their hosts became suspect. She mentioned her feelings casually one by one to her companions, but only Jael seemed to have any similar thoughts.
They had taken a watch together, perched atop a knoll, protected by the snow covered trees of the orchard.
"DunStan Cald reminds me a bit of Tallis Fair," she remarked as they settled in to watch the western horizon.
"A bit. Not as busy though," Jael returned quietly.
"No. It's much more peaceful. You'd almost think we were cut off from all the world."
Jael eyed her narrowly but Maygra had deliberately turned her head away. "You might," he said. "I think it's more like they've cut off the world."
"That's odd phrasing."
"I agree. But it fits. I get the distinct impression if I walked half a day in any direction, I'd never find my way back," Jael said.
"Have you tried it?"
"No. I've been tempted though. And for more than half a day," he commented.
Maygra let the remark slide by, aware of the undercurrents beneath it. "I don't think you'd get far," she said and pointed toward the orchard's edge. "Go ahead, try it. I'll keep watch."
Jael's gaze was quizzical but he did as she instructed, ducking around the edge of the orchard until she could no longer see him. She had begun to get worried a moon-step later, when she suddenly saw his shadow returning quickly.
He sat down heavily beside her, his breathing hard. "You've tried it, I gather."
She nodded.
"It's like a compulsion. Nothing overt, just a nagging sensation telling me I'd gone too far."
"Very odd," she commented and shut up.
They had not spoken of the incident or their conversation since, Maygra aware Jael suddenly became very interested in when the cald was founded and what happened at spring trading.
They did not have to wait long, however, for DunStan returned the next morning and Maygra gave up her regular morning work with Terrin and his beasts to corner him in the storage room where they had first met.
"Your business was successful, I gather," she commented perching on one of the small wine casks.
"Aye'a. As successful as it was meant to be. The northern passes are blocked but we keep a storm shelter there. Stocking it is one of my last tasks before winter sets."
"If the pass is blocked, why stock a shelter? Expecting something . . . or someone?"
DunStan eyed her coolly as he finished storing his travel gear. "It's the wise man who expects the unexpected," he said.
"How unexpected were we?"
He eyed her solemnly before settling himself on the ground across from her. "I thought you more direct, Maygra Manai," he said and once again the illusion of age dropped away.
Maygra watched the transformation open-mouthed astonishment as graying hair gave way to a rich sable brown and the lines on his face faded as if they had never been. Before her sat a man only a few years older than herself, ruddy skin now darkened by sun, eyes dark and endless, trapping her with their gaze.
There was no fear in her, but awe wrapped her in a cocoon of silence.
"I've told you before, there's no threat to you or yours here, Manai," he said addressing her by the ancient title of clan leader. "You came here by chance -- but it was not chance which made us ready for you. I am bound to offer assistance by a promise as old as the birth of your people."
"But you're not Kieri," she stammered.
"No. Nor is any here, save your folk. Listen carefully to me, Maygra of Rhema, and I will tell you some of what you want to know, but do not know how to ask. Part of what pursues you, I battled long ago. I thought I had won, but all I won was a battle and time."
"The Madrai?"
He chuckled without humor. "Would it were. That, at least I could counsel you how to avoid. Its threat is not vanquished, but it has been diverted -- for a time."
"It's real, then," she breathed softly. "We could never be sure, knowing only the legend and not the substance."
"As real as this cald. My errand north had more to do with you than with a storm shelter, but some of what I sought was found in those high peaks. The Madrai has been tapped, its progress slowed by one who would raise up Chaos in all its mindless fury. She is, or was, of your folk -- not of Rhema, but of the Kieri. How she came to be what she is, I do not know. She took Rhema for only one reason, your Keep, the last stronghold of the Kieri in the eastern lands, had no Iimarin Web to keep her at bay."
"The Web was taken when Rhema was abandoned. What is this Web then? I know of its properties, but like the Madrai it is more legend than truth."
"To explain would take a tale longer than I or you have time to tell or hear. But trust your legends, Maygra. All of them. There are other Kieri strongholds in the west, ringing a vast land not unlike your homeland where Rhema was once the western-most Keep before the Crossing. It may be there you find a haven. I cannot see so far."
"Westward then. We seem driven that way no matter what course we think to take. How far?"
"Months at least. I have not been there, but Haian caravans travel through occasionally. The living crystal binding the great Kieri Webs is found north and south and it is the Haian who trade it with your folk. And there is the key to your enemy. It is the power of the Iimarin she seeks."
"Why, then, Rhema? We had none! Not for centuries."
"Be silent and listen! She seeks the power in the Iimarin, the power within the Gifts of the Kieri to wield. Whatever claim she once had to Aessa's Gifts she gave up for something she thought more potent. To gain control of the Webs now maintained by the descendants of your ancestors, she needs to reclaim those Gifts. She sought to take your folk because you had no Web to thwart her as your western cousins do. But you do have the Gifts needed to control the Web. She took the children of your people no doubt thinking children would be easier to control with her other skills -- and their potentials untapped. She seeks you now for the same reason. For Renn and Kiva and even the infant, if she can take them. And no doubt she has plans for your Healer as well."
"For Damyn? He's no child."
"No, but she has laid some claim to him. And if you cannot see as much, you are more stupid than you seem," he snapped.
Maygra flinched beneath the sudden anger in DunStan's voice. He had risen to his feet, towering over her with a fey expression she had not seen before. It reminded her most strongly of Jael's face, lost beneath the beserker rage he had fallen into at Laric's death. Cautiously she got to her feet.
"You have given me a great deal to think on, DunStan, for which I am grateful. Our presence here threatens your peace. We will leave at daybreak," she said as calmly as she could.
DunStan laughed hollowly, his dark eyes fading to silver. "Your presence brings no threat to us, not from that Chaos-bound sorceress. No. Save your concern for your own people -- I protect what is mine."
Maygra took a step backward, not sure what had triggered this latest transformation and suddenly aware fear would have made a good ally a few minutes before.
"Then I am grateful for your kindness," she said.
"Kindness! Is that what you think prompted this, Manai? There's no kindness in this, Maygra of Rhema. This is payment on a debt I owe -- a debt to be paid in full only when this world fails and all Aessa's children have turned to dust," he snarled, fixing her with a gaze no more mortal than the Goddess herself.
It was the bitterness in his voice which stayed her. It shot through Maygra like an icy wind for she had heard such bitterness before, in her own soul. No longer did he seem a threat -- but there was danger in his presence. Still, Maygra could not help but respond to the harsh hollowness filling him. Tentatively, she reached out to touch his hand.
For a moment, he seemed not to notice, then very slowly his fingers curled around hers, with a touch so gentle and an expression so forlorn, her eyes grew moist in response.
"Ever your folk surprise me, Maygra. You have nothing to fear from me, not in this lifetime or any other. Nor can I help you defeat this witch who hounds you -- for despite her acts, her blood runs as true as yours, beyond any legend you may have been taught."
"Did our folk wrong you? Is that your promise? That you would seek no reprisals? If it were in my power, DunStan, I would free you from this geas."
He lifted his hand to her hair, smoothing it from her forehead. "Aye, child, I know you would. Give your soul to free me, or to free your beloved Healer. The first is beyond your power, the latter may not be, but it cannot be done here. You'll need your own kin for that. As for wronging -- it was I who wronged your folk, much to my regret. The debt I owe was never imposed on me. I took it on willingly," he sighed and sat down on the cask Maygra had vacated, taking both her hands in his.
"You would do well to remember your heritage, Maygra. You are very much like another of your folk I knew once, long ago."
She crouched before him, squeezing his hands. "How long ago, DunStan? This cald is timeless is it not? Timeless and hidden save to those you will see."
"Something like, kira. This cald has it's own magic, you're right, but the folk who live here are not so special, save they have all come here at one time or another to heal. Some stay, some go. The cald is like others, but it is isolated and hard to find if you're not sure what to look for, or where."
"And you, DunStan? When did you come here?"
He grasped her shoulders firmly and pulled her closer. "Don't ask questions you don't wish to truly know the answer to, kira," he said harshly. "What you know or think you know is best left unspoken, for both our sakes."
She touched his face, trembling a bit as a new light shown in his eyes. "I know something of loneliness," she said hesitantly. "There is little enough comfort in this life not to be shared."
"Daring Fate again, eh, lovely one? Would you remain here, Maygra? I cannot thwart this sorceress of your blood, not directly, but she cannot reach you here. That, I can swear, is beyond her dark skills."
"I can promise nothing beyond this moment," she said softly. "And I scarcely know why I offer it now."
"I do," he said and drew her tightly into his arms. Maygra resisted only a little, not sure why he affected her so. He was more than mortal, but somehow, less than mortal as well, as if caught between the two.
"Would I could take what you offer, child. You would give it with no regrets and no ties. But I would regret, and I need no other burdens on my soul," he murmured and drew away.
Acting on impulse, Maygra pulled him back, reaching up to brush her lips across his. It was no urging of lust, nor was it quite love. There was no heady feeling of flirting with danger, nor the aching call of pity in her action. Understanding more than she realized, DunStan returned her kiss with both passion and humility. Had anyone seen them, their eyes would have widened at the transformation engulfing the pair, for Maygra had changed as noticeably as DunStan, the scars fading from her body and from her soul for one long moment, and her face and physical appearance altering to match DunStan's in vibrancy, as if she had been distilled into the very essence of her own soul.
She could not speak when DunStan finally broke the kiss, only leaned against him as he cradled her in his arms in an embrace which both supported and strengthened her. The heat of the moment passed slowly and altered subtly into a different warmth. When she looked up again it was into the familiar and aged face of the DunStan she had first met and who now held her with all the tender strength of a father.
"You tempt me, Maygra of Rhema, to cast off the ages. But I yielded once before and lost half my heart in the process. Gratitude is not something I can offer, child. It's not in my nature. But there is nothing in my power I will deny you or your kin to aid you. If you desire to stay all hearts and homes are open."
She drew away slightly not sure if it was joy or loss she felt. "I'll not ask again what you are, my friend. What you have given thus far is more than we could have hoped for. I would press on, but my kin need to rest and regain their strength. We will abide until spring and then follow the path of our kinfolk long past. Whatever else you can offer, I'll take with no debt -- to either of us."
"Aye, lassen. I'll not add to your debt if you'll not add to mine," he said and his eyes narrowed as he watched her lips move then still. "There's a question you want to ask, lassen."
"Not of you or about you -- but I would know, if you can tell me, are my people doomed?"
DunStan sighed and stared down at the ground, fully aware she was not asking about her immediate family, but of her race.
"Doomed to wander, yes. Doomed to die, yes. I told you your legends were true. The first of your kind took an Oath, binding whether their children repeated it or not. But the doom you speak of has no joy and no light within it and in that meaning of the word, you are not doomed. The Oaths your folk take have promises in return, Maygra. Promises which will be kept. I have sworn to that as well as others. The Gifts of the Kieri are just that, Maygra. Gifts from the Goddess to enable your folk to protect all her children -- even those you may battle and those you haven't met. You took such an Oath, yes?"
"When I was younger, but it seemed hollow then. Aessa's Gifts seem to have been lost on me."
DunStan's sudden laugh brought a smile to Maygra's face, for he was mightily amused. "Oh, lassen! Would I could tell you so you would believe your Gift is anything but lost! Trust me in this, if nothing else. You are as The Bright Lady intended, from the top of your stubborn head to the bottom of your graceful feet."
Maygra looked at him dubiously but kept her smile.
"We need to go, now, lassen. Your brother is becoming worried. We'll talk again, but I'll keep this meeting close to my heart for all my days," he said cryptically and led her outside.
The sun had moved past its zenith, she was startled to note. Bright reflections against the snow made her wince. She had lost half a day. She stared at DunStan, parts of their conversation already fading from her memory.
DunStan paused and laid a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "What you need to know will come to you again as you need it, Swordswoman," he said compassionately and the glow faded from her face. If DunStan regretted it, he gave no sign, taking his leave of her without her notice.
Mikayl found her at the stable, a worried frown on his face and an equally anxious Jael on his heels.
"Where have you been?" her brother demanded.
"With DunStan," she said, startled then alarmed. "What is it? What's happened?"
"Nothing," Jael said eyeing her reservedly. "You missed the midday meal and no one knew where you went. DunStan said you'd be here. You've talked with him, then?"
"Yes. And as much as I dislike the idea, he's convinced me to stay the winter here. We can ride out with the trade wagons in the spring."
"You're certain?" Mikayl asked excitedly.
"Yes. If it's been keeping the others up nights, go reassure them, Mal," she said touching his cheek affectionately. "We'll be right behind you. I'm hungry!"
She laughed a little as Mikayl took off like a hunting dog toward their cottage.
"What else did you discover? About the cald itself," Jael asked, watching Mikayl run.
"He's warded it, as we suspected. I'm not sure of how, but you might ask him yourself. He explained some of it, but it would make more sense to you, Jai. It's akin to your own Gift."
"You're sure we're to stay," he asked, not sure he trusted her new found faith in their benefactor.
"No, I'm not sure. But I don't know if we have much choice. Asking the others to take on this winter in the open is not much better than asking them if they would mind if I slit their throats. We'll keep our guard up and continue with the watch. If you have a better solution, speak up."
"If we chose to leave, would DunStan supply us?" Jael asked.
Maygra bit her lip. "I think so. He said he would offer what aid he could. Something's eating at you, Jai. What is it?"
"I'm not sure. Would `too good to be true', fit?"
She chuckled. "Yes. And very aptly. I don't have any answer for you, kiri. We could head south, I suppose. The winter would be milder along the Ayr Riyv. We might even be able to cross it. I don't know what crossing the Ayr would gain us, though."
"And the spring?"
"If we stay here, we'll head west. Maybe north for a bit. I'd rather break our trail."
"But you're not sure," Jael prompted.
"Dark Maiden's Wings, Jai! No, dammit, I'm not sure! Do you think I have some plan I'm keeping hidden from all of you? If you've pinned your hopes there, you're going to be disappointed. I don't trust DunStan entirely . . . ," she hesitated then frowned. "No, that's not true. I do trust him and I couldn't tell you why if my life depended on it."
"That's the point, Mag," Jael said quietly. "Ours do."
She rubbed her forehead distractedly, searching for an explanation to allay her kinsman's fears, but DunStan's explanations had all but faded.
"I must be more tired than I thought," she sighed. "Jael, your points are well taken. Do you think we should go?"
Caught off guard by the hesitancy in her voice, Jael could only stare at her. Her green eyes were as bright as new spring leaves and she suddenly seemed years younger, hardly more than a child.
"No," he said at last. "No, I think we'd die in the attempt. You've not led us wrong thus far, Maygra. You have more strength than I, and far more wisdom."
"No, I don't, Jai," she said wearily. "I haven't a clue as to what's happened to us, or why. All I know is any action seems better than none. Maybe it's fear. Running seems prudent."
He caught her arm, his breath catching as he heard the self-condemnation in her voice. "Don't, kira. None of us would be alive if not for you."
"Some of us aren't," she responded, her voice breaking.
Jael had no words for her. Roughly he pulled her to him, as surprised as she by the spontaneous embrace. He had never before felt protective of her as he did with Maia, but at this moment, he found she was not so unlike her sister. Maia had hidden strength, but Maygra's strength had always been as visible as sunlight.
She was his commander, his friend and beloved aunt to his child, but for the first time, Jael saw her as just Maygra. Five years younger than himself and as susceptible to pain and fear and despair as he was.
She leaned against him as he threaded his fingers through her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead in both apology and promise.
She lifted her head. "I can stand anything but pity, Jai," she said softly.
He smiled faintly then kissed her soundly but gently, like a rare prize. "I can promise you this is not pity, kira," he said firmly.
She grinned. "I'm still hungry," she warned.
"Food first, then. Take the early watch with me?"
"In the orchard?"
"No, the store room."
She hugged him and nodded, keeping her arm around his waist as they walked toward where their kin waited dinner for them.
Neither noticed DunStan watching them from the corner of the stable, a wistful but satisfied smile on his weathered face. The expression faded as he saw Maia watching the pair as well. Her face remained expressionless, even when she realized she was being observed. She met his gaze as boldly as Maygra had done, stepping from the shadow of the storeroom.
"Do you disapprove, then, lassen?" he asked as she approached. Maia shook her head, staring after the pair again.
"I have nothing to offer either of them. If they find comfort in one another, I do not begrudge it," she said then turned her gaze to his face again. "You approve. Why? You barely know us."
"I know enough to think a little kindness is what you all need. Time to rest and to heal."
"Some things cannot be healed," she murmured. "Some things cannot be made right; not by time -- nor by enchantment."
"Time heals most things. As for enchantment, there's no magic here, child."
"No? You do not lie, exactly, but you stray from the truth with your words. I have met you before, DunStan called. Not your face nor your voice, but I have met you. Or one like you. I do not know what you said to my sister, nor why when she is with you I can Hear her Voice as clearly as my own."
"Then why do you not know what I said?" he asked quietly, his eyes narrowing.
"Because I chose not to. Just as I have chosen to release Jael. And my son. Just as I will choose not to follow them when they leave -- and they will. You have seen to that, have you not?"
"You know far less than you think, kira," he said kindly.
"Don't call me that. I am not a child you can care for. I am Kieri, for all it's worth. You should change your aspect more, Old One. You resemble another of your kind far more than you realize. You needn't worry, I won't reveal what you are."
"You don't know what I am," he said coolly, the edge of anger in his tone. Maia flinched but did not retreat.
"I know enough. I know were you as Black Winged as your sister, you could be twins, no matter how you disguise yourself. I have spoken to Her. She came for Maygra too soon, or were you not aware Yranna covets my sister as you do?"
"If what you think is true, little Maia, you tread on dangerous ground."
Maia laughed, a short, harsh bitter sound with a touch of hysteria. "More dangerous than I have for the last months? My ancestors walked out of legend at the call of a Goddess who could not control her own affairs. What she created, she commands. Is that not part of my Oath? If she commanded me to my death, I would not argue, but go willingly. Instead she tears apart my life a piece at a time. For what? For a promise someday my people can rest? How many generations must suffer for her safety before her promise is fulfilled?"
"Maia, you must not think thus. You have your son and your brother and sister to aid you. Their Oaths bind them as well. Death will not undo them," he said, reaching for her hand. She jerked backward, an exhausted, desperate anger in her face.
"Then renouncing my Oath will mean nothing. What more can she do to us? What more can she want from us? She hounded my sister near to her death, then sent your cruel twin to promise her peace only to steal it back again. Maygra is stronger than I. She always has been. What promise did you offer her you will not keep?"
"Only that I will not abandon her, or your people," he said wearily.
"Can you release us from this bondage?" she asked.
"Your sister asked me much the same thing and my answer is still no. Your ancestors entered this bargain of their own free will, Maia."
"Did it give them the right to decide for all the generations to come?"
"More than you know," he murmured. "You cannot break your Oath on will alone, child. When you took it, there was no condition for escape. Is that what you want, truly? Or just an end to the suffering and the coldness in your heart?"
"I want both," she said tensely. "If I could call Yranna I would, though her presence terrifies me. I would challenge Aessa herself to be free of this . . . this heart," she gasped, her face white with anger and despair.
DunStan stiffened. He had heard her plea before, and answered it -- regretting the choice ever since. "Is that truly your desire, Maia? Not to know the pain or the joy of those close to your heart?"
"They are so close I cannot bear it," she whispered. "Do you know our tale, DunStan? Have you seen beyond Renn's stumbling words yet to know what we have lost?" She turned away, staring at snow so white the glare brought tears to her eyes. "When Sura died, Jael said we had lost the best part of ourselves. I told him then she was only part, not necessarily the best part. I wanted to comfort him, to ease his pain. Then Laric died and Jael's rage almost robbed me of my brother -- I cannot forgive him, even though I know he was not at fault. I stare at my son, a tiny life so precious to me once and all I see is another child I valued above all else. I cannot bring Kuris back and Kion cannot replace him. What can I offer him, if he lives, save a shadow of the love I had for the brother he will never know or a father I no longer love? There is no room in my heart for either of them and those I love most, Maygra and Mikayl, what will happen when there is no room for them? I would not let Maygra go to Yranna when she had the chance. It was a cruel choice. Laric is dead because my sister killed him, a death she never wanted, even in the darkest part of her soul. His death lives in her now as does Sura's and Kuris' and every life we lost at Rhema. She is stronger than I. She bears those deaths and goes on. I want only to join them."
DunStan turned her to face him and she did not flinch at his touch. "Death will not release you from your Oath," he repeated. "Only Aessa can do that -- and she does not release a promise easily." He hesitated, tilting her chin up. "If I offer you half of what you desire, will you promise to give yourself time here? I know you feel cold and alone, kira, but it may change. You know very little of yourself."
"You can end this," she said calmly.
"No. But I can give you the tools to do so. Taking your own life is easy, Maia. It is the living, the pain and the struggle you find so difficult. Your death will cause those you say you do not love more pain. Would you inflict more on them for your own sake?"
She dropped her eyes. "Their pain will pass," she murmured.
"It has not for you. Do you feel more deeply than they -- than even the Healer among you whose own Gift destroys him with each moment?"
Maia looked up sharply. "What do you know of Damyn's ailment? Can you help him?"
DunStan smiled faintly. "So your concern is not so diminished," he said and Maia's face turned red. "You are weary, Maia. Tired and heartsore. Take your time here. If, come spring, you feel the same, I will aid you in your choice."
Maia opened her mouth to protest, then fell silent, nodding in agreement before leaving him. DunStan watched her with saddened eyes, remembering another face and another voice crying for release, a plea he denied for his own reasons. When she disappeared into the shelter she shared with the others he turned his gaze toward the cald's border. He did not see the whiteness of winter but a dark, green moist place of earth and stone where the stars shone as bright in day as in night. He had not been to this place in many years, years counted not by the turn of the seasons, but in generations long dust. Yranna, Dark Sister, I have need of you, he called and wept when mocking laughter met his call. He stepped into the dark place and DunStan Cald disappeared save for his memory.

A disturbance deep within the well of her power awoke Shadrai from her rest. It was not familiar and the comforting shield of darkness trembled in response. She sought the unfamiliar presence, frowning when it eluded her, rebuffed her probe as if she were an annoying insect. Startled she sought along her other tangled, black lines of influence, grasping a steadier one closer to her.
"So close my child and no thought of visiting?" she murmured, distracted by the more familiar presence. Mek'Ain, my pet, I have need of your services, Shadrai purred into the silence. He had been waiting outside the door and limped in warily. She rather missed his old arrogance, but it had not been prudent to let him go unpunished after his failure on the plains.
"Your servant, Shadrai," he said with an awkward, unsteady bow.
"So you are, my dear. I have a job for you. I believe our guests need a little excursion. They have worked so hard and done so well, I will reward them with a holiday. I would like you to accompany them -- at least for a little ways. See to an escort while I tell them of my generosity."
Mek'Ain nodded, slowly backing from the room, his eyes never leaving her face. She smiled genially, relishing the fear and respect on his face. His fall from her graces had been almost as amusing as his current attempts to regain his place. Mek'Ain might owe her his life, but her new lieutenant owed her far more, and she had found the quality of life was a far more powerful bargaining chip than simply life or death. Mek'Ain was useful in his own way still. His replacement had a great deal more to offer.
She became aware of the ghost-like presence's outside her chamber door before Mek'Ain's tentative knock and sent out a soothing welcome answered with skill and strength. Her smile was predatory as her four guests entered. The eldest was but a few years into manhood, his three companions were mere children. The man escorted the children, moving with a puppet-like gait. The children clustered around him with blank expressions, like pets on leashes, their eyes focused on nothing in particular and distracted not at all by peripheral movements. The man's eyes, however, were full of intelligence and, to Shadrai's endless amusement, a certain crushed defiance.
"So, Duran, I hear your lessons go well," she purred, gesturing him forward and smiling benignly as the children sat on the floor at her feet. Duran took the bench next to her chair.
"Well enough, Lady. Mek'Ain says we are to go on a journey."
"A short trip, my dear. I want to show you where your forefathers went when they abandoned your folk at Rhema. There is not much left to admire in them, I'm afraid. They are as arrogant and prideful as they ever were but the trip should prove . . . educational. And how are all my little darlings?" she asked softly, not missing the flash of disgust in Duran's eyes as the children suddenly became like so many adoring dogs at her feet, touching the hem of her gown, tentatively reaching up to have her caress their hands and faces with silky-soft skin.
She watched Duran beneath hooded eyes, smiling in satisfaction at his reaction. She had been careful not to break his spirit entirely as she worked her spells upon his broken body. She wanted him fully aware of what he was doing. It suited her purposes to have him dependent upon her for his mobility, his sight and his voice. The loss of those regained senses was a far greater threat than death.
"To your journey," she said abruptly, snapping her hand at the children. They fell silent and still, eyes fixed on her face, waiting for her next words. "The journey will be pleasant enough for you, I think. I want you to keep an eye on my precious little ones -- Mek'Ain is too jealous, I think, and there will be too many opportunities for accidents."
"There must be more to our `holiday' than simple sight-seeing," Duran said coldly.
Shadrai's eyes narrowed and she made a sharp flick of her wrist, Duran's own wrist mimicking the movement. "Watch your tone, my dear," she said softly. "While I value your skills, I will not suffer impertinence. However, it is true I have a task for you to perform. It is simple enough. I want you to meet my son."
At Duran's wide-eyed stare, she laughed. "Oh yes, my dear. I have a son. His name is Rhys. Unfortunately, we had a falling out a few years ago, and I have heard little from him since. I simply want to know how he is -- if he's happy." She smiled sadly. "Despite what you may think of me, Duran, I do have some feelings. Whether you agree with my plans or not -- or my methods -- means little. But he is my son -- the only son I am likely ever to have and I want to know how he is."
"How or where?" Duran asked suspiciously. Shadrai's eyes glittered dangerously and Duran braced himself for punishment, expecting to end up in a heap on the floor when she withdrew her sorcerous support of his limbs.
"You do try my patience, my young warrior," she cautioned. "I know where he is -- I always have. But I do not know his state of mind or his day-to-day activities and that is the information a mother craves."
Duran kept silent. He did not trust her and he certainly had no illusions about the limits of his usefulness. What he did not know was exactly what she wanted from him or from the children. Until recently, he had been kept away from the children. Shadrai's explanation had been he needed time to retrain himself to use his limbs and adjust to the different scope of his voice and vision. His own Gifts seemed unhindered, but he had no other Kieri except the children to test his Gifts against. Once the children had been brought into his training sessions, he found their Gifts had been awakened. In the oldest child, Tannis, the active use of Gift was not too unusual for Tannis was nearly ten years old. The other two, Tysa and Nian were six and four respectively. Nian had taken his Child's Oath but his Voice rivaled Duran's, when he was able to use it. Tysa showed all the skill of a Stone Welder twenty times her age and Tannis had a Shield strong enough to knock Duran's feet out from under him. How or why Shadrai had brought those Gifts to their current levels was a mystery -- and despite his fear for himself and the children, Duran was not sure he wanted to solve that mystery.
She eyed him speculatively for a moment then shook her head, picking up young Tysa and putting the girl on her lap. "I can see you don't believe me. So be it. What you think or feel is really of very little concern to me, Duran. Just remember, your own people left you to die in darkness and silence. Your beloved Healer didn't even have the courage to end your suffering -- and you begged him for it. And your commander -- you do recall her order, don't you, Duran? What possible allegiance could you owe to a woman who would butcher children simply because she was losing a fight which never need have happened?"
"You destroyed Rhema!" he snapped.
"No, my dear, I attacked Rhema, which is quite a different thing. Yes, I wanted captives -- I need allies to bring those impudent Kieri in Estanis to heel. I know you don't want to believe me, Duran, but the Kieri in Estanis are not like your kinsmen in Rhema. They are a fractious, arrogant lot who use or withhold their Gifts from their Haian and M'syri neighbors, not because of their Oaths but simply because they can. They demand tribute for services your people offered open-heartedly to your neighbors. I have my own motives, of course. I have a great deal of power and I enjoy using it. While the Kieri use their Gifts only to benefit themselves, I would use my powers to benefit all those under my rule."
"You're insane. Kieri cannot take Oaths of service to anyone but Aessa!" Duran said.
Shadrai sighed and stroked Tysa's pale hair. "Aessa has called very few of the Kieri in Estanis to her service, Duran. Certainly not to the extent your own folk in Rhema were called. You don't believe me now, but when you meet my son, you may ask him. Rhys is nothing if not honest. I would have welcomed your folk as allies, not subjects. That opportunity is past us, however, only you and these three darlings remain of Rhema. If nothing else, give them a chance to make their own choices. Is it so unreasonable a request?"
Duran shook his head, already confused. His suspicions were not laid to rest, but he was also aware nothing of what she had told him so far could be proven untrue. He disliked the children's condition, but Shadrai had assured him their carefully controlled reactions were temporary. She had removed the spell keeping them quiescent once in his presence. Their reactions had been sheer hysteria -- he had probed their minds as gently as he could only to find all three wild with fear, not of Lorisa but of seeing their own parents and friends killing the children of Rhema at Maygra's order.
Nor could he deny the order had been transmitted. He had Heard it as easily as the others in Rhema, although he had been barely conscious. And Damyn had abandoned him, his reason forgivable only in part. Duran understood how difficult it was for a Healer to kill, but his own fate, left alone, had been as horrible to contemplate as anything Duran could imagine -- blind, helpless, and alone until he died of thirst or was attacked by any roving beast.
He shuddered, not noticing Shadrai had a satisfied smile on her face.
"Now, my dear," she continued. "Whatever conclusions you come to, I promise you this: I want you only to meet my son and ask him three questions. Are you ready?"
Duran swallowed and nodded. Shadrai relaxed in her chair, Tysa still in her lap, her head against the woman's breast. Lorisa draped her arms over the shoulders of the two boys.
"Very good. The first is merely to establish his identity -- you must ask these questions exactly as I give them to you and remember his exact reply. The first, `Are you Rhys, only son of Lorisa?'" she said in a cold flat voice, her fingers drawing a small pattern on Tysa's forehead. "The second: `Is your life among your cousins pleasant?' and the third, `Do you miss the mother who gave you life?'" She touched each of the boys as well, the same curious patterns whitening the skin above their eyes. "It's important you say them just so. Repeat them."
Duran did so, three times as Shadrai petted and stroked the children, then cupped her hand under his chin, stroking his forehead with a gentle hand.
"Very good. After those three questions, whatever else you may discuss is up to you. Even if he answers only `yes' or `no', I will be able to divine much from his answers. That is all I ask of you. Does it seem so evil?"
Duran felt cold but his suspicions faded as she withdrew her hands. "No, Lady. I will do as you ask. When do we leave?"
"A few weeks. I would like the children to lose some of their fear before I set them out in the world again," she said setting Tysa on the floor and directing the children toward the door. "By then, I think the outing will be good for the children. I do not think you will be gone more than a month, but there is one more thing, Duran,"
"Yes, Lady?"
She made an odd sigil in the air and with a gasp, Duran fell, his sight gone, his legs without the strength to hold him up. His head struck the stone of the floor painfully and he could barely hear a frightened squeal from one of the children.
Slowly, the feeling came back into his limbs and his vision cleared. He found Shadrai's face close to his on the floor. "I expect you back, Duran," she murmured, brushing her lips against his. "If you fail to return, I promise you, you will lose all I have given in the most isolated place you can imagine, and I can keep your soul tied to your body long after your heart stops beating, hmmm?" she said with a laugh and kissed him more deeply. "You do remember your friend, don't you?" she whispered against his cheek, her voice colder than her touch. "Laric, wasn't it? I would hate to see you become like . . . I'm sure he was as handsome as you are. Not a pretty experiment, asa?"
Duran closed his eyes against the memory of the cold and lifeless body, barely recognizable as his former comrade. He shuddered as the strength seeped back into his body, his movements driven by the same power which moved dead flesh. The cold of the stone beneath him was nothing compared to her lips, or of the shadow hanging over his spirit long after she had gone.

It took little effort for the Rhemans to fall into the routine ruling the cald during winter. DunStan's absence was remarked upon, then forgotten by all save Maia, who stared into the northern horizon every night at dusk. Her mood seemed confined to her vigil, however, and the others left her to it, sometimes joining her in her silence, but not pressing the issue. Jael and Maygra found time for themselves, sometimes in pleasure, more often in comfort, their hearts no more engaged than they had been before. It was still Damyn she turned to for counsel but Jael's quiet strength had benefits for both of them.
Mikayl spent his time with Henel, as fascinated as a child by the delicate work the blacksmith created, and under the gruff man's tutelage soon presented his companions with clasps and bracelets he crafted himself. He attempted to get Renn interested in the lessons as the boy had a tendency to hover near Damyn unless deliberately enticed away. Unspoken was his fear his brother would vanish if he left him for long. Damyn stilled their concerns, allowing Renn to stay near him and spending as much time with his brother as he was physically able to manage, Kiva their ever-present shadow.
Osra thrived. She came to know the cald as well as any of its inhabitants, first accompanied by Hal, then on her own. She remained with her Rheman kin, but Maygra watched her as she returned each night, her tread heavier than it was when she left in the morning. More and more frequently, Osra pulled out her long braid, stroking the neat, silky stuff like a treasured but dying pet. Maygra had no comfort, nor any counsel for the young woman. They were losing Osra slowly, not to death but to a whole different kind of life. Maia watched the blind woman as well, knowing their choices were similar but for very different reasons. Whatever Gift had been granted to Osra at her birth was gone, less apparent than even Maygra's. She was changing as well, her reddish hair turning brown, her skin darkening despite the pale sun and her eyes losing their gray-green color for an earthier brown-green.
The Kieri had ever been a race of mixed colors in a world where racial lines were starkly drawn. And Kieri blood bred true, or so they had always been told. That Osra should be lost angered Maia, for despite the change in Osra's appearance, the woman was bred and trained Kieri and all her instincts told her to fight the changes happening to her. Maia still watched for DunStan's return, but now she watched other things as well. Her son was able to take food and no longer needed her for survival. She gave him up with an ease which disturbed the others -- all save Damyn. He watched her, not with pity, but with something akin to understanding for while the rest of their kin healed, he and Maia simply got no worse, no weaker. It was as if they were caught in time.
The winter paused long enough for the earth to show through for a time, before new snow covered it again within three days, but the cries of birds signaled spring was not far away. DunStan returned when the frost first broke, but it was days before he emerged from his holding to speak to anyone, looking worn and haggard and old. Maygra began taking watches again and it was not long before Mikayl and Jael joined her, resigned to her unspoken decision they would move again when winter passed. Maia watched her sister carefully, seeing the worry lines, which had all but faded, return with the lengthening days. It was on the tip of her tongue to beg that they all remain within the haven of the cald's orchard barriers, but she could hear the call Maygra answered in her sleep and knew her sister would follow, even if she went alone.
It was that realization more than anything that sent her to DunStan's holding at dusk ten days after he returned. She did not knock, merely waited until the rough voice bade her enter. He was wearied and still haggard as if time had slowed for him to such a pace that he might never recover. His strength went deeper, however, and Maia's resolve would not let her leave without an answer.
"You have chosen," he said tiredly.
"I have. You have seen Osra?" she prompted quietly. "Is that your doing?"
"Nae, lassen. It was made for her, without her knowledge or consent. She has her own story to fulfill. The Lady has seen to it."
"So she does release us from our Oaths occasionally."
"Nae. Osra's not released, she has simply exchanged one Oath for another. You think it cruel, but Aessa demands Oaths from all her children. Only the Kieri know what they promise."
Maia eyed him sharply. "So Osra does not know what she has promised? Does my sister?"
"You've heard the call, then?"
Maia nodded. "I have. When Maygra was younger, I would scold her for speaking crudely of the Lady, but I think she understands our Mistress better than I. She obeys, but she does not pretend to be grateful for the demand of her service."
"You've grown colder, harder."
"I have been through winter. All things fade in the winter," she said. "Will you keep your promise?"
"Will you keep me to it without knowing the price may be higher than that you pay now?"
"I will keep you to it whatever the price as long as I pay it and no other," she said flatly.
"Ah, Maia, forgive me for this," he said heavily and then rose from his bed. Maia flinched as he changed, then her smile faded in true fear as he was joined by another form, dark and stern and unforgiving.
She waits for you to call Her. She has agreed to arrive swiftly if you call, but there is a price, DunStan's earthy aspect said hollowly. If She comes to your call, you must come to Hers. You cannot fail your Oath to serve Aessa, but not all service is demanded on this Mortal plane. If you agree, you will be to Her as She is to Aessa. You will collect the dead and dying and take their souls to the netherlands, to the Shadow Plane for judgment. Yranna has promised to keep you to your own people, so you may give them a swifter journey than She often offers. That is Her price. You will not know them as you do now. You will know them as She does, as I do, as Aessa's chosen. Your own people will become to you but the tools of Aessa's crafts and not people to be loved and cherished. You will not know those feelings again -- no love, no joy, nor any hate. You will become a Shadow of your own soul until the work of the Kieri is done, until their promise is fulfilled. Not until they are released from their promise, will you be released from this fate you have chosen. This is the choice. You may make it now, or years from now. You have no other choice any longer, he added softly.
"Will they know who -- what -- I am?"
"They will know only that you came swiftly, child," DunStan said softly, his mortal aspect returning as if he had cast off a worn cloak.
"Lady Below, what have I done . . . ," she murmured, sinking to her knees, her eyes fixed on the Shadowy Winged figure before her, oblivious to DunStan's arm supporting her.
"What cannot be undone."
"Will they know what I have done? Maygra, Jai?"
"It is your price as I promised, they will remember only that you are gone, not how or when. That I can and have bargained for. If you call, she will come. It matters not to her when you call."
"So swiftly," she murmured and stared unseeing at the walls. She listened, hearing Mikayl and Jael, even Kion forming thoughts in basic pictures and feelings. She sought her sister, only to find that Voice still silent. Without a word she rose, running from DunStan's holding. She found Damyn and the children first, hesitating before picking up her son, cradling him with a tenderness that had long since disappeared from her.
"Maia, what's wrong?" Damyn asked, not alarmed but confused.
"I can't explain. Damyn, do you love Maygra?"
"Of course I do, I always have. Maia, what's happened?"
"Nothing. Never betray that love, Healer. No matter where I am, I'll know. Don't leave her," she mumbled, then kissed him swiftly setting her son in his arms.
Damyn tried to follow her, Renn and Kiva beside him as she ran into the yard, running to meet Mikayl, Jael and Maygra as they returned from their day's tasks. She went to Mikayl first, touching his face so briefly and Speaking to him so quickly he could not react. Then she turned to Jael and kissed him with a passion she had long thought lost. He held her gently, anxious and concerned, his arms as tender as the first time he had held her.
Remember what was when you tell our son of me, Jai, kiri. Ki'ta, my love, she murmured against his lips then turned to her sister. She grabbed Maygra's arms with such force that the younger woman winced.
"Maia, what's wrong, kira'sai?" she asked. "Are you ill? Frightened?"
"I will not waste a moment coming to you, beloved," Maia whispered fiercely. "You will not be alone, I swear it," she touched Maygra's scarred face gently, then Called.
Yranna kept her promise, coming so swiftly that Maia had no time to regret even as she saw the flash of realization cross her sister's then Jael's face, only to fade as different memories were planted. She lifted her face to Yranna's, expecting to see censure there, but instead found only compassion in the silver eyes. Whatever other feelings she might have had faded as well, replaced by a desire only to see a swift end to her people's suffering.
Come, little sister, Yranna murmured. Already your kin have need of your services. She shifted and followed the fading sun, a smaller form winging at her side, nameless and free.

Chapter 10
GLOSSARY
A'del'eva:..............Literally: "By your oaths to Aessa" A war cry and a summons. (think au secors)
A'Ki'Ka................A binding Oath of will, heart , soul and mind...reserved for the Goddess.
asa:........................Literally: Truth. an affirmative as in, "yes" or "is it not so?"
Graen:....................pl. Mountains, (also Grae; Mountain)
hait:........................ "To Me" or "Here", imperative, a summons.
Ien Ki'Ka............... Soul Oath. An oath of binding.
ka'kiira...................f. Daughter of...
kira'sai:...................f. sister, little sister, beloved sister, [familial]
kira:........................f. little one, child (diminutive)
kiri:........................m.little one, child (diminutive)
kiri'nai:...................m.brother, little brother, beloved brother [familial]
ki'ta.........................f.heart sister. Not quite a lover.
Makyera:................f. First, as in a title.
Makyera Gen:........as in First Sword a title, overall commander of the Watch (also: gen... sword, shield, defense)
Makyeran Gyeld......First Born. A title of respect applied to no other peoples but the original five Oathtakers who birthed the Kieri race.
Masyra-Maena:......f. title of rank for females, equivalent of Lord-Master, title for a member of the Elder Council (or Lady-Master)
n'gari:.......................large lizards, desert scavengers, about the size of a rhinoceros, but looking more like komodo dragons.
N'yris.......................Oath Breaker...a broken oath. A fatal transgression
Shadrai:...................Literally, Shadow Speaker.
shan'nai:.................m.Wise man or brother, an affectionate term of respect. Used between equals.
shan'sai:..................f.Wise woman or sister, an affectionate term of respect. Used between equals.
theris:.......................fruit bearing tree native to Elerak and the Eastern Plains, rather like a pulpy pomegranate
uralen:.....................pl. Ural; a large cliff dwelling bird, average wingspan is about 20 feet, scavengers mostly.
varin:........................a breed of extremely stocky, sure-footed horses, powerful bodies but small heads. (pl. varinen)
vegen:........................historically they were small leather-winged creatures, not unlike bats, but with elogated snouts and long flattened tails used as messengers for the gods. (pl. vegenen)