When the water reached her hips, she dove in and came up pushing her hair out of her face. She’d tried to keep her hair short for a long time as a youth, keeping it out of her face during combat, but had found the constant need to cut it tiring. It was easier to keep it a little longer, shoulder-length and tie it back or braid it. That kept it out of the way and was far easier to cut when she wished.
She ducked under again and scrubbed at her hair under the water for a time before surfacing again. She hadn’t brought soap with her so she couldn’t do much more, but it felt good to be out of the heat.
That thought made her laugh as she made her way back toward shore. She should be used to such warmth. She’d lived for thirty years in the south, where winters were muggy and rainy, and summers far hotter than this. But that was a dry heat, sucking the moisture out of a person. This northern climate, with its wet and heavy warmth, felt like a southern winter. She was still amazed it was like this so far north, but then there was a lot about this world she didn’t know.
She dressed in her dry clothes and clasped her sword-belt around her waist along with the pouches that hung from it. She picked up Davlas, her spear, and returned to camp with her still wet set of clothes draped over an arm. Even before she reached the clearing, she could smell the roasting fowl.
Barami may not have been her ideal mate, but he was a rather perfect travelling companion. He could cook, knew how to handle himself in a fight, and mostly kept to himself.
She hung her clothes to dry on branches which arched over the fire, then sat across from him.
He said nothing. She was fine with that.
They ate in silence until she said, “We’re getting close. Another day or two at most I think.”
He nodded with a grunt. He knew well enough why they had made the long trek up here.
Caerwyn just hoped that it wasn’t in vain. If this feeling, this call, did mean there was a drahksan here, she didn’t know if it was a man. That was the concern that had plagued her this entire trip. To come all this way only to find a woman would do her no good.
Though, at least she’d be able to find out more about her kind. She knew so little beyond that most humans distained, envied, or despised drahksani. It generally wasn’t healthy to let others know what she was.
Barami knew, of course, and it had not changed his dedication to her. That was why, even if she would never consider him as a mate, he was her one and only friend.
The next day Caerwyn and Barami emerged from the forest and began climbing into rolling hills. The river was to their left, running through a canyon it must have carved through these hills long ago, and the sun was rising in the east over more forest which sprawled over much of these hills.
Caerwyn suspected that the village they sought would be on the river. So they hiked down into the canyon and followed that.
They came over the crest of a hill around mid-morning and below, after a few more descending hills, lay a small village. But what called to her wasn’t coming from there. She could tell now it was coming from a bit more to her right, east and north. Her eyes were keen, and she scanned the hills in that direction.
“There,” she said, pointing.
“I don’t have magic sight like you do,” Barami said, his rich, deep baritone rolling over the words in his faint Kigasi accent. “All I see is a forest.”
“There’s a cabin near the woods. The person we seek is there.” After a moment she added, “And it might be best not to refer to anything I can do as ‘magical’.”
He grunted, and they continued on.
Her pace was quick, and being tall for a woman she made good time, her long legs eating up the hillsides. Barami was a head taller than her and easily kept up.
They reached the cabin as the sun was nearing its crest high in the summer’s sky. From the far side of the cabin came the noise of someone chopping wood, and they skirted a wide circle around the house to see who it was.
Caerwyn could tell immediately he was a drahksan. The call came directly from the shirtless man working away at a large pile of logs. But there was something she’d never expected… another drahksan was here, in the cabin. Her excitement grew. Perhaps she’d even have a choice. Unless this was a couple, already married, then the woman might not take kindly to Caerwyn trying to mate with her man.
She’d have to approach this carefully.
“Stay quiet,” she told Barami, “I need to ferret out some information.”
He grunted. Of course he’d stay quiet, it wasn’t like he was talkative to begin with.
She approached the man chopping wood.
“Good day!” she called out.
The man was short… or was he? Though not tall, he was perhaps average height, but seemed short because of his great girth. He was exceptionally well built, arms and back thick with muscle. He stuck his axe in the chopping block and turned to her. The expression on his face was one of shock and surprise. He had bright blue eyes set in a friendly, round face framed by a shaggy mop of thick, unkempt brown hair which looked like it had been hacked at with a knife in a vain attempt to keep it out of his eyes and face. He smiled, and it was a pleasant thing on his wide lips. His chest and shoulders were just as heavily muscled as the rest of him. He would certainly make a decent mate, though he seemed a little young, his face looked more a boy’s than a man’s. The body was definitely that of a man.
She knew from her own experience that drahksani aged slower than humans. She was near to forty but looked like she was in her mid-twenties. So perhaps this ‘boy’ was a man after all.
“Good day?” he said, definitely confused. “If you’re travelers you won’t find much here, the village is down there.” He pointed out over the hills.
“Tell me, boy, do you have a brother back in that cabin?” He did look a little young to be married. She hoped perhaps he had an older brother she might talk to.
He tilted his head, his expression growing more confused. “No. Just my aunt and uncle.” He took a step back his hand hanging close to the handle of the axe. It only occurred to her then that — with all their weapons — she and Barami must look a bit… dangerous. Perhaps the boy thought them to be bandits.
His answer had shed some light on the situation. If the other drahksan she was sensing was either of the aunt or uncle, then chances are they wouldn’t be a viable option. Which left the young man in front of her.
“We mean you no harm,” she said, letting her spear drop from her hand to the ground. She put her arms out wide at her sides, palms open and took a few more steps toward him. Barami didn’t follow her. Good. “We’re travelers, but we’re looking for someone specific.” She had to laugh, realizing that what she was about to say would sound somewhat crazy to this boy. “We’re looking for you. Well, I’m looking for you.”
“Me?” His eyes darted from her to Barami, and he did grab that axe now. “Why?”
She plucked out her short sword. He tensed, but then she dropped it to the ground. It landed standing on its blade, slicing into the ground. “I’m no danger to you.” Another laugh escaped her at the thought of what she wanted. “In fact, you may find me quite the opposite.”
His muscles eased as a quizzical look appeared on this face. Yet she noted that his hand hadn’t left the haft of the axe.
She needed to just tell him why she was here, but for some reason the right words were hard to find. Well, no, actually the words were simple… ‘I want to mate with you’, but something about that didn’t seem right. She’d always been blunt, straight forward, but this situation seemed different from any attack plan she’d made as a general. She would have to use tact. That wasn’t a strong suit for her.
She took a few more steps then stopped.
What could she say?
She didn’t know enough about drahksani. Could he sense her as she sensed him? It would make things a lot easier if he did. Did he even know what he was? Presumably the blood-relation within the cabin, the other one with dragon’s
blood would have told him by this point in this life, but Caerwyn just didn’t know.
Perhaps that was a place to start. “Have you ever heard of the drahksani?”
Two voices shouted through the heavy midday air before he could respond. Her keen ears picked out both, despite the overlap. One was a light feminine voice from behind her saying, “Jais. Come quick!” The other was a more mature female voice off to Caerwyn’s right. It was stern in its tone, “You there, get away from my nephew!”
She backed off a couple of paces. This put her next to her dropped sword, just in case there was about to be trouble.
She looked to her right, at an approaching woman… who had dragon’s blood. She knew it instantly, even if the ‘call’ within her hadn’t told her just that. It was the look of the woman. She looked young still. If she’d been human then perhaps she’d be in her late twenties. It was the eyes that gave her away as drahksan. Caerwyn knew eyes like that. It was the same ‘old’ eyes in a youthful face she saw whenever she looked in a looking glass or still pond. The eyes of someone who had seen far too much for the age they appeared to be. This had to be the boy’s aunt.
There was also a threat in those eyes, like that of a mother bear. Yet when the aunt saw Caerwyn’s own eyes she stopped in her tracks.
“Oh,” she said softly. “You’re… I thought… oh.”
Someone raced past Caerwyn. She looked to see a young woman who ran to the boy she’d been talking to and flung herself upon him. A moment later the girl was talking to him in a string of words so fast they were hard to understand.
“Jais, you were right. There was an attack last night. The kroll attacked Ulf’s father’s farm. Ulf and his family are fine. It only went for their livestock. The village is in a stir, and they’re putting together a party to hunt the thing down. You need to come and help. My father and brother are going and so are Ulf and Erid. They don’t know a thing about hunting. They’re going to get themselves killed!”
Too much was happening at once. Caerwyn’s mind was quick and was taking it all in, but she feared her window to make her approach to this boy had closed. She swore softly.
“Jais isn’t going anywhere.” This from the aunt. She drew closer to her nephew and the girl. “None of you should be going up against a kroll. This is insanity.”
“I agree,” Caerwyn found herself saying. She approached the group as well. “I’ve fought them before, and it’s nothing for untrained farmers and villagers to attempt.”
“I know that,” the girl snapped. “But tell that to the stubborn men down there!” She pointed down toward the village as she looked at Caerwyn. Something changed in the girl’s eyes then, as if she only now saw Caerwyn for who she was. “Who are you?”
“Yes,” the aunt chimed in. “Who are you?”
“My name is Caerwyn Afg—” She cut herself off. That other name didn’t mean anything anymore. She stuttered for a moment. “Of… of… well of nowhere at the moment. Just Caerwyn I guess.”
“That’s a western name. Domaran I believe. You are a long way from home.” This from the aunt whose keen eyes looked her over intently, then moved to Barami. “And you have a southern companion who is even farther from home. What do you want here?”
It seemed far too late to make her proposal now.
Everyone was looking at her. A silence hung in the midday air, which seemed oppressive with the beating sun and heavy, wet heat. She drew in a breath and pulled a soft leather glove from her belt, slipping it on.
As she spoke she retrieved a large stone from a pouch at her belt. The stone was the size of her palm, smooth and flat, and roughly triangular in shape, with well-rounded corners. Her words were directed to the aunt, but she kept an eye on the boy, Jais, to see how they might affect him, if he understood.
“You know what I am, what we are, yes?”
The aunt glanced at the girl, then gave a faint nod. The boy looked confused. Interesting. It seemed the boy didn’t know what he was.
Caerwyn tossed the stone at him in a non-threatening high arch.
Yet it was the aunt who caught it, grabbing it out of the air, wincing as she did. They all winced… because as soon as the stone touched the flesh of the aunt’s palm it blazed forth with a pure white light.
The aunt dropped the stone almost instantly.
“What was that?” This from the village girl.
The boy bent to pick up the stone. His aunt put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Don’t!”
The boy paused mid-bend.
“Pick it up,” Caerwyn said. Her tone was soft, easy, but she’d led men into battle many times and knew how to still make it commanding.
The aunt stepped toward her, fire in her eyes. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?” she asked, the pitch of her voice rising with every word.
It seemed petty now, but Caerwyn needed to know. “I need to know if he’s full blood or not.” The words were vague as she was aware of the presence of that village girl who probably knew nothing of drahksani except what rumors had been spread about them long ago.
“Why?” the aunt said. She seemed rattled. “If you are not a hunter… Now is not the time for this!”
“Aunt Sarelle, what’s going on?” Jais asked. Without the aunt there to stop him he crouched next to the stone and touched it. A white light blazed forth for the instant his finger was in contact.
Pure blooded.
The aunt must have seen the flash of light around her and winced. When she spoke next it was with a vehemence, a poorly suppressed rage bubbling up within her words. She stalked forward toward Caerwyn, hand extended. “You. Need. To. Leave!”
Caerwyn felt a pressure on her chest… no in her chest, constricting. The pressure turned to a sharp pain on the left side, her heart, and a shortness of breath. The aunt was doing something to her. She backed off, she had to. The pain was too much.
It cut off suddenly as Jais called out. “Aunt Sarelle, what is all this? What’s going on?”
The other woman had tears in her eyes as her hand fell to her side.
Caerwyn gasped, as breath returned to her, and fell to one knee.
“There isn’t time for this. Jais, you need to come down to the village. They may already be gone!” This from the girl.
Too much was happening all at once, Caerwyn needed to take control of this situation. She stood, despite trembling legs.
“Stop!” This was the next level of her ‘command’ voice, a crisp shout. It was clear to her now she’d have to put her quest to find a mate on hold. This village needed her help. That and she couldn’t risk losing this young man to a kroll attack. She’d need him alive and well for… the other thing.
Everyone looked at her again.
“Why I’m here doesn’t matter. What matters is that I am here and I can help you.” She turned to the village girl. “You are right. If your family goes to fight a kroll they will most likely all perish. I know how to fight them. I’ve done so before. I will go with you.” Then to Jais and his aunt. “When I’m done with that I’m coming back here.” Pointing at the aunt she said, “You need to tell him. He should know the truth.” She wanted to say more but with the girl here that was not an option. “After that we all need to talk. That… is why I’m here.”
She retrieved her sword then stalked back to Barami and her spear, but turned back to them. “Are you coming, girl?”
The girl seemed surprised and torn. She obviously wanted Jais to come. Caerwyn’s intervention had not been what she had expected. But the girl nodded, and with a last look to Jais, followed after Caerwyn.
“I’ll be down shortly,” Jais called out.
“No, you won’t,” his aunt said, voice hard.
Caerwyn didn’t care anymore. She could hear them arguing as she followed the girl down the hill toward the village.
She cursed her hesitation. It shouldn’t have been hard to tell the man she wanted to have a child with him. She’d done many more dangerous things in he
r life. For whatever reason, this seemed harder than anything she’d ever done before.
But she wasn’t going to give up. She knew what she wanted. She just hoped the boy was willing.
3
“You know I can help. I’m the strongest man they have!”
“You’ll get yourself killed. You can’t go. I have to protect you. It’s the entire reason your parents gave you to us in the first place!”
“What do you mean? Was I in danger as I child? What did that woman mean when she said we need to talk?” Jais’ head was reeling. There were too many unanswered questions, and his aunt was not acting like her usual serene self. Something was wrong, and it seemed to revolve around that stone and the light that came from it when they touched it. It still lay on the ground at his feet. What was it? What had that light meant?
Before his aunt had arrived, that woman had asked Jais what he knew of the drahksani…
“Am I drahksani?” he asked. He didn’t even know what that meant. There were vague mentioning’s of the term in the village, usually with negative connotations, but he really had no idea what drahksani was.
“Don’t say that word!” His aunt glanced around furiously, but there was no one there. “Even when we’re alone, you should never say such a thing and definitely not where others can hear. The villagers only tentatively accept me as it is. If they knew… if they suspected anything was amiss, they’d come for me, for us.”
“You?” Of course, the stone had lit up when she touched it too. “You’re…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Drahksani?”
She sighed. When she spoke her voice was also a whisper. “Yes. I am. As are you. As were your parents. It’s what got them killed.” Another sigh. “And if you’re going to say it, say it right. I am drahksan, we are drahksani. You add the ‘i’ for the plural.”
“So I am…”
“Yes.”
“And my parents… they were killed just for being drahksani? What does that even mean anyway?”
Soul Seeking Page 3
