Piers chuckled. "Hardly anyone but you slept last night. They were too busy talking."
“And gawking. The Priestess of Amara and Athlone put the mask of Valorian on display. Every man, woman, and child stood in line to see it." Sayyed shook his head. "No one quite knows what to make of all this---a gorthling, arcane battles, Valorian's mask, the Hunnuli herd---your people have enough to keep them thinking for years."
Gabria smiled. "I hope so. What about the council, have they had their meeting on sorcery?"
Piers answered, "Not yet. They're waiting for you."
"Athlone is at the council tent now, trying to convince Lord Caurus that sorcery is not going to destroy the clans,” Sayyed said."
"He'll have a tough fight with that man." The mention of Athlone sobered Gabria. She had something important to tel Sayyed, but she was not certain where to start. The young Turic was so dear to her soul, it was very difficult to tell him what her heart had been trying to tell her all along. She loved Sayyed as a brother and a friend, as someone who filled the aching void left by her twin's death. She wondered sadly how he would react when she told him the truth. Would he stay or would he leave in a cloud of hurt feelings?
But Sayyed surprised her. The Turic took her hand. "It is good to have you alive and well, Gabria,”
he said. "When you left us to find the gorthling alone, we feared the worst. Lord Athlone was like a stallion heading for battle. He would have left by himself if Piers hadn't talked him into taking me. I've never seen a man so wild." He nodded his head. "If you don't take that man for your husband, he wil go berserk one of these days."
Gabria inhaled sharply. "You understand?"
Sayyed gently rubbed her palm with his fingers. "I've known for many days. I just didn't want to see the truth because I wanted you so much, but his feelings and yours are undeniable. You are destined to be together."
"Thank you," she whispered. She touched her bandages with her hand, wishing she could see his face. Despite his words, she would hear the sadness and disappointment in his voice.
"I hope this doesn't mean you won't teach me more sorcery," he said.
Her fingers tightened around his. "You'll stay?"
"Gabria," Sayyed said earnestly, "my love for you is undying. I must simply change it so it does not burn so hot. I came to learn sorcery, and if you will still have me by your side, I want to stay."
"So do I." Athlone said from the tent's entrance. The Khulinin chieftain strode in and joined Gabria and Sayyed. Piers quietly withdrew, leaving the three magic-wielders in the privacy of the tent.
Lord Athlone sat down beside Gabria. He was nervous about her reaction to what he was going to say, and it took him a moment to find the words. "Sayyed and I have talked a great deal the past few days," the chief said slowly. "We have settled a few of our differences, and I have come to understand many things about sorcery and myself. You asked me once if I was willing to live with magic and all of its difficulties. Now I can tell you with all my heart, yes, but only if you are with me. Would you consider renewing our vow of betrothal?"
Gabria sat still, her thoughts swept away by her emotions. "If my eyes do not heal, can you live with my blindness, too?"
"I love you for who you are," he answered simply.
There was a breathless pause, then she raised her hand palm up and said, "I give you my pledge from this moment."
His fingers interlaced with hers, and the vow was made.
Athlone shot a glance at Sayyed. The tribesman nodded once in satisfaction, and the chieftain held out his other hand to the Turic. Sayyed grasped it firmly. He knew then that he had lost a woman, but he had found two new friends. Perhaps, he thought, that was a good exchange on the wheel of life.
The next morning Gabria slowly dressed to attend the council meeting. As she sat waiting for Athlone, Piers unwrapped the bandages around her eyes to replace the cloths with clean ones.
To his astonishment, her hand suddenly grasped his arm in an iron grip. The sorceress was squinting at the entrance where sunlight was leaking through the untied tent flap. "I can see the light,"
she gasped.
Piers was delighted. He quickly checked her eyes and, against her protest, wrapped them again in the cloths. "Your eyes need rest!" he insisted. "Tonight I'l let you try them, after the sunlight is gone."
When Athlone, Sayyed, and Tam came to get her, they found Gabria in a state of euphoria. Her smile was brilliant, and her joy radiated from every line of her face. The four magic-wielders took her healing as a good omen, and they went to the council of the chieftains with hopeful hearts.
Gabria would never forget that council meeting. After listening to her speech in defense of magic, the chiefs debated for hours over the fate of sorcery and the fate of Gabria and her friends. Athlone, Sayyed, and Tam sat around her through the long, often angry speeches and did not move once to defend themselves. The final decision was up to the chieftains now, and no one could say with certainty what their choice would be.
At last, late in the afternoon, Koshyn and Sha Umar won a major victory. Lord Caurus rose from his seat and said grudgingly, "I see I must cast my lot with the rest of you. I agree to remove the death penalty for the use of sorcery. However, I demand that strict limits be set on the use of magic and on the actions of the magic-wielders. The use of sorcery must be contained to those we deem responsible enough to use it!"
Lord Sha Umar raised his hand. "It is done. I suggest that we extend the gathering a few more days and use that time to establish the new laws for sorcery. This is too important to put off for another year." The chieftains and the magic-wielders agreed. When Sha Umar gave Gabria the Book of Matrah, she and Athlone found the dangerous spel s of summoning gorthlings, tore them from the book, and burned them.
"There are some things," she said, repeating Valorian's words, "best left alone by man."
News of the council's decision spread through the camps even before the meeting was over.
Emotions were widely mixed throughout the clans, but no one was greatly surprised. The clanspeople were beginning to understand that magic was part of their heritage, a part they could no longer deny.
*****
Three days later, on a gloriously clear, warm summer evening, Lord Athlone of Clan Khulinin married Lady Gabria of Clan Corin in a ceremony witnessed by all eleven clans. The Khulinin Priestess of Amara, clad in flowing green robes, performed the rites of marriage and blessed the couple with prayers of harmony and fertility.
Gabria wore the red dress Khan'di had given her and a golden veil from Athlone's mother---the red to represent the clan she was leaving and the gold to symbolize the clan she was finally officially joining.
Lord Athlone was resplendent in his finest clothes and his golden torque. Piers and Tam were there to represent Gabria's family, and Sayyed stood as Athlone's witness.
When the ceremony was over, Athlone removed Gabria's veil and tied it around his waist like a sash. He took his new bride into his arms and sealed their happiness with a long and very thorough kiss.
The three Hunnuli beside them lifted their heads to the evening star and whinnied their joy over the vast Ramtharin Plains.
A Short Glossary
THE CLANS - CHIEFTAIN - CLOAK COLOR
Corin (massacred) - Dathlar - Red
Khulinin – Athlone - Gold
Geldring - Wortan - Green
Wylfling - Hildor - Brown
Dangari - Koshyn - Indigo
Shahedron - Malech - Black
Reidhar - Caurus - Yellow
Amnok - Faltor - Gray
Murjik - Jol - Purple
Bahedin - Ryne - Orange
Jehanan - Sha Umar - Maroon
Ferganan - Bael - Light Blue
Hearthguard: The chieftain's personal bodyguard. These men are the elite warriors of the clan and are honored with the position for their bravery, skill, and loyalty.
Herd-master: The man responsible for the health, breeding, and wel
-being of the horse herds.
Holdings: Land granted to a clan for its use while in winter camp.
Outriders: Those werod riders who guard the herds and the camp or act as scouts.
Treld: A clan’s permanent winter camp.
Weir-geld: Recompense paid to the family of a murdered person in the form of gold or livestock, or by death in a personal duel.
Werod: The fighting body of a clan. Although all men are required to learn the rudiments of fighting, only those who pass certain tests make up the werod.
Wer-tain: The commander of the werod. These men are second only to the chieftain in authority.
Document Outline
LIGHTNING'S DAUGHTER
BY MARY H. HERBERT
Lightnings Daughter Page 32
