[Lanen Kaelar 01] - Song in the Silence

by Elizabeth Kerner

  Suddenly, for a moment, he was again a stranger, a creature out of my ken, a Dragon. Did he call them hands? Claws? Forelegs? He had been gentle enough, certainly, but while he was flying? The slightest mistake could crush me, rend me, before he even noticed.

  “I shall try.” And the moment was gone, as I heard in his voice the tenderness that was almost more than I could bear. His very words were song, they poured over me in a wash of melody that stirred my blood and caressed me all at once, soothed away all my fears. “Come, dear one. Come with me, let me carry you to the star-home, the Wind-home, the Place or All Songs.”

  I walked to him as in a trance. I would have walked off a cliff, I think, knowing he would fly swift as thought and be there to catch me.

  He picked me up, made a seat for me with his hands, so I sat in one and the other held me gently and gave me something to hang on to. His warm, armour-plated chest was at my back. I felt him crouch, heard as he lifted his great wings. I braced myself as best I could.

  There was a sudden jerk as he sprang into the sky, a sound like a far-off storm as his wings beat down again and again, working to get us above the trees.

  And we were flying.

  XI

  THE WIND OF CHANGE

  Lanen

  How shall I describe flying to you, who will never know it?

  I was terrified at first. The wind rushed past me with the speed of a summer storm and a loud roar filled my ears. Akor was carrying me close against his chest—perhaps he was trying to keep me out of the wind—at any rate, it meant that I was being carried facedown and I could see how fast we were going. And with every downbeat of his wings we rose a little, and as they rose we fell. It was quite sickening at first.

  When at last I dared to open my eyes, it was like looking down at the trees from the highest cliff in the world after you have jumped off. There was nothing between me and the longest drop you can imagine save the clawed hands of a Dragon and the strong, rhythmic beat of his wings. The twilight lingered longer up here, and I could see what passed below brushed and blurred with shadow and with speed.

  I was terrified.

  I gripped his hands with all my strength. They felt solid as stone, which reassured me a little. Also they were warm with a Dragon’s inner fire, and I began to remember that it was Akor who held me. That helped a little more. I began to loosen my grip slightly, my muscles aching from being so tightly clenched. His hands held me safe and strong, and ever above and behind me I heard the beat of those great wings. After a time, even the rising and falling gave me comfort.

  I would not have believed it possible; but eventually wonder overcame fear and I began to look about me. Just then, Akor’s voice sang in my mind, “These are the lands of my people, dear one. You are greatly honoured. No member of your race has ever seen these hills and valleys, these deep forests, that are home and safety to us. Look well, Lanen Kaelar,” and I could hear the smile in his truespeech. “This is the abode of Dragons.”

  I looked as well as I could and desperately wished it were daylight. But even in the last light of the sun (which as I say lingered a little on high) I could see the hills and forests over which we passed. There were open fields here and there, some scattered with dark dots that might have been cattle. It was too dark to see anything much beyond the general lay of the land, but I saw what I could only have guessed from the ground—that the island was cut in half by a range of mountains that ran from east to west. I could see no details, but they loomed ahead of us as Akor flew north.

  I was growing distinctly cold, despite Akor’s warm chest plates behind my back, and it was getting harder to breathe. I think I would have been near frozen were it not for being held close to that living source of fire.

  After what seemed like forever (though later I realised was little more than the half of an hour) I felt something change, a shift in his body. By now it was full dark and not worth keeping my eyes open against the wind. I was cold and miserable and fighting for air, but I wanted to know what was happening. I tried to ask him, but my voice disappeared even as I spoke.

  It was then that I understood with a shock why all the race of the Kindred had the Language of Truth, while to my people it was the rarest of gifts. How else could they speak to one another, here where the air was thinner than on the tallest mountain, the wind roaring past them and they separated by lit least two wings’ distance? Surely the Lady—no, they called on the Winds, of course—surely the Winds had gifted them so they might speak with each other in this world they shared only with the birds. And the Dragons sang, too, I could hear it in their speaking. The music they would make must surpass belief.

  I wanted to bespeak Akor, ask how long we had yet to go, but I remembered he had said that I could easily be heard by others. I kept my peace and concentrated on breathing. I longed for moonlight. From my position, in those moments when I managed to open my eyes, I could only see the stars nearest the horizon.

  Akor’s thoughts rose soft in mine. “Forgive me, little one, I had forgot you did not know. Our journey is nearly done. In a moment I shall glide down the Wind, Do not be afraid when the ground comes up to meet us.” I could hear the gentle merriment in his thoughts. “I know all is new to you, but I have been flying for a very, very long time. You need have no fear.”

  When we started to spiral down everything changed. It was the best part of the flight for me. Akor’s great wings were outstretched and still as he glided down; the wind still rushed past, but it was not so cold nor so turbulent as when he was beating the air. My eyes seemed to recover a little as my breathing eased; I saw dimly below us, in the center of the spiral, a large wooded hill with a clearing at its foot, and as we came closer I saw a darkness that might have been a pool at the edge of the clearing.

  We were very close to the ground now but still moving quickly. I am afraid I yelped a bit when he started beating the air backwards: I don’t know what I expected, I had seen birds land before, but this was a bit different.

  He landed on his back legs, those vast wings flapping as he fought to stay upright. It seemed very awkward to me, but he neither dropped me nor fell over, so I supposed it was good enough.

  He put me down gently. “Are you well, little sister?” he asked. He seemed out of breath, which cheered me. It was the first sign of physical effort I had seen in him, and it made him seem a little more human, or at least a little less distant in kind.

  Before my mind’s eye flashed the image of that slim silverhaired man with Akor’s eyes. I must not think of that.

  “I’m frozen solid, but aside from that, yes, I’m fine. Was it very difficult to fly carrying me?”

  His laughter made steam clouds in the cold, clear night. “You are lighter by far than cattle. Were it not for having to land upright, I would, hardly have noticed I bore you.”

  “How do you usually land?” I asked. I did not wonder whether I might ask or not. All fear of Marik, all fear of the others of his Kindred had left me, and deep in my soul I knew that now we were here, there need be no long thought before a question was either asked or answered. We were a little like two children finding themselves together without a guardian, delighting in the privacy and whispering secrets together in the dark.

  “We are made to land on four feet. It is fortunate that if was I who carried you; I know of no other of my people who has practiced such a landing.”

  “You’ve practiced this?”

  It was amazing to see a creature so noble and so naturally frightening actually manage to look sheepish. “I have. Ah, Lanen, you have found me out! But come, you are cold. My chambers are at hand—if you will bring wood I shall make a fire for you and tell you how I came to do such a thing.” He looked around and spied a huge log. “That will do to start,” he muttered, and effortlessly picked it up in his mouth. It wasn’t until he tried to say something around it that I started laughing. He gave me an unreadable look and moved towards a darker opening in the dark side of the hill.

  I
gathered a few smaller logs, still laughing. Not that the young tree trunk he carried wouldn’t burn all night, but I needed to feel useful. Besides, I was trying to make sense my feelings. I watched the creature I had such love for walking in four feet, lifting and stretching wide silver wings stiff from the flight, long tail trailing after.”

  For an instant I saw a giant lizard with wings and was disgusted.

  Then he spoke to my thoughts with that voice that chimed my heart. “The entrance is here beneath the trees; I shall await you.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. For he was again Kordeshkisiriakor, a creature ancient and wondrous, and I did not care what shape he had, for I loved most the soul inside the form. I followed him towards the hillside, away from the clearing which we had landed. There was only starlight to see by, but the night was so clear it was enough. The pool I had seen from above lay open to the sky, and showed the vain stars their glorious reflections.

  Akor had gone towards two of the tallest trees. They grew side by side and seemed in the starlight to be guardians, old friends who had watched together over this place for many years. He stopped before them, lowered his head and slipped between. I was amazed, there had not seemed that much of a gap. When I came close enough to see, I found there was easily fifteen feet between the two, though their ancient roots effectively blocked the passage between. It would surely difficult for one of the Kindred to enter who did not know those roots well. It was bad enough for me, clambering over them in the starlit darkness.

  Just past the trees there was a low passageway in the rock no wider than the gap between the trees, but tall enough for me to walk upright with headroom to spare. I am astounded to this day that Akor could get in and out of that passageway but he did so with no trouble.

  I took a deep breath before entering. I have never liked caves—in fact, I am afraid of them—and here I was, facing a walk in complete darkness down a passageway to I did know where. Did the passage narrow ahead? Perhaps it came to a sudden end and Akor had forgotten that I couldn’t fly. I gripped the wood, rough in my arms, and forced myself to ignore such idiocy.

  I managed to get perhaps five or six steps inside before I stopped.

  I am ashamed to admit it, but the cave, the thought of a mountain of stone above me, would not be ignored, and with that senseless fear came the memory of every stupid childish tale I had ever heard about Dragons. In my terror I imagined the floor of the passage littered with human bones and worse things and I stopped moving altogether.

  “Akor?” I called out weakly. I tried to force my voice to a semblance of courage but I failed completely. “Akor, where are you? I can’t see. Are you there?”

  I heard something moving not far away. I jumped, my heart began to race, I dropped the wood I was carrying and put my back against the wall. I was groping for my dagger when his voice came back, loud in the darkness. “Lanen, I am here. Wait only a moment while I set Fire to this wood.”

  That was the longest moment in the history of the world. I could not go back, I could not go on, I held back a scream by the merest thread. I, Lanen Kaelar, who only moments ago had been high in the air above the world and had managed to look about and forget fear, whimpered in the stony darkness.

  Suddenly I heard a loud crack and a swift breath, and light blossomed like the first dawn of the world, golden, warm and comforting.

  I looked about me. On the ground was only the earthen floor of the passage. The walls were smooth, the passage short before and behind me. I began to breathe again, to feel much less afraid. How powerful mere darkness was! When I stopped shaking I gathered up the wood I had dropped and walked forward into the light.

  At first all I could see was Akor, the fire, and the fact that he was in a large space. I breathed easier. A large space would not be so hard to bear. I laid my wood in a pile by the entrance, for he had broken that whole huge log in two pieces and set it alight.

  Then I began to look about me.

  Whatever you have heard about a dragon’s hoard is both less and more than the truth. I saw no artifacts, no crowns of fallen kings, nor cups, nor stores of coin.

  But there was more gold in that place than I had ever imagined existed in the world. The walls of the cave were covered with it to the depth of some inches (I could tell from the deep engraving that covered much of it), and the gold was set all over with precious gems and with nacre. Even a good quarter or the floor in one corner seemed made of solid gold, and extending towards the passage opening was a path of the same stuff, as though it were alive and growing towards the daylight.

  I must have stood in the entryway for a full minute, my jaw hanging open.

  Akor bowed. “Welcome, Lanen, to my chambers. Come in and warm yourself. I hope your fright is past? I did not know you feared close spaces. It is not unknown even among my people, though it is unusual. Does it help to know that in this corner of the cavern there is an opening above? It runs straight up through the hill and opens on clear air, on starlight and night breezes. When the moon rises you will be able to see it from here.”

  I shook myself. The news was welcome, but I had to ask.

  “Akor, what is this place? And why is it—why is there so much—where did it—why do you—oh!” I gave up. I was so astounded I could not make sense of my words or my thoughts.

  “Lanen? Come, bring your wood close here where the fire is laid.”

  Akhor

  I was disconcerted and a little sad. I had hoped for a different reaction from the first Gedri ever to see the chambers of the Kantri. She seemed shocked. I had hoped that the firelight reflecting from the khaadish would make her feel welcome.

  She could not take her eyes away from it.

  I was growing impatient with her. To be distracted by such a thing, when even a youngling knew—

  Akhor, Akhor, I chided myself. She is not a youngling. Perhaps she has never seen khaadish before.

  “Lanen, is your fear still upon you? It is nothing to be concerned with, it is only khaadish, it is a metal like any other. More beautiful, perhaps, and certainly softer.” I gouged a trench with my foreclaw as she watched.

  She finally heard the disapproval in my voice. “Akor, my friend, forgive me. I did not mean to greet you so in your home.” She bowed, her eyes on me now, as I had come to know her. My impatience melted like spring snow. “But you did not warn me. I defy any human to step in here and retain the power of speech! Akor, this is more gold than I have ever heard of. Where does it come from?”

  “Gold?” I replied, surprised. It was her turn to amaze me. “Khaadish is gold? Oh, Lanen, you make me wise beyond all bearing!”

  “What have I said? Akor?”

  Lanen

  He had turned his head away from me in the most human gesture I had seen him make. I didn’t need to ask its meaning.

  “My friend, forgive me, I never meant to hurt you. What have I said?”

  He answered me with his face still turned away. “In the days when our peoples lived together, there was much concern among the Gedri for ‘gold.’ It is said they killed one another for it.” His voice grew even heavier. “In those days, one of the Gedri held hostage a youngling, and would have killed it for the sake of ‘gold.’ I never knew what it was when I heard the tale, and none could tell me. I could not imagine what precious, life-giving thing it could be, which they so desired and the Kantri possessed. At one time I wondered if that was their word for our soulgems. I understand now why one of the laws between our peoples in those days was that we must meet in the open, never in the chambers of the Kantri. Ah, Lanen, your knowledge wounds me. For so base a thing!”

  I kept my voice as calm as I could. I had never imagined so sensitive a soul behind all that armour, I had hurt him, for all his strength and my weakness.

  “Come, Akhor. Speak: with me yet, of your kindness. Why do you call this ‘kadish’ base? In my lands it is of great value. I have never seen such wealth in my life. A tiny portion of this is the worth of my father’s far
m and every soul on it. Why do you call it base?”

  “Because it is!” Akor spoke now with more vehemence than I had yet heard from him. “Why do you give it worth? Creatures have worth, their deeds, their words, their thoughts or the work of their hands have worth, but metal? It is senseless.” He turned back to me, his eyes blazing, his soulgem shining so bright it scattered a faint emerald light. “Child of the Gedri, I shall tell you a truth that no one of your race has ever known. This metal, this khaadish, is part of my being, it is part of my race, but we know it is of no value save for its beauty. It is natural to us, Lanen. Where we sleep we change the ground to this stuff. ”

  I was silent, trying to understand. Akhor kept looking at me, waiting for a reply.

  “You change the ground?” I said at last: “But why?”

  “There is no why, it simply happens. Where the Kantri sleep, the ground will change to khaadish. That is the way of things.” Some of the intensity had left him, thank the Lady. He even managed a small hiss of laughter when he added, “We find it most comfortable to lie upon, which is just as well. Some believe that the earth would suffer too greatly from our heat without khaadish to protect it, others believe that there is something in our armour that works with the ground to produce it. No matter. It happens.” He shifted until he sat on his haunches in what looked like a formal position and asked me, “Why do your people put so great a value on this worthless metal that they will kill for it?”

  I wished I had a sensible answer to give him, but there was only the truth. “I have no idea,” I told him honestly. “It is beautiful, certainly—you yourself have used it to give beauty to this cave—but beyond that I cannot see its value. My faHadron raised horses, and they were of worth to other men. We bartered for goods or accepted silver for them—and on rare occasions, gold—and with those metals could buy food for our horses and goods for ourselves, because others were willing to exchange them. But with all his faults, Hadron never coveted gold. He only cared about his horses.”