“He speaks against the Word,” others shouted in agreement.
Dayn turned to Peadar, expecting to see the Chieftain rising to remove him, but the man remained seated.
“Continue, Dayn,” Peadar said. “Or would ye prefer I call ye Keefe?”
“No; Dayn.”
“Very well…Dayn.” Peadar then addressed the audience. “We will hear what the boy has to say. Anyone not wishin’ to hear it may leave the circle now.” No one moved a muscle.
Dayn pushed back his collar, revealing the flower-shaped birthmark on his neck. “This stain—this is what prompted my Tearian mother to give me away. There it meant my death.” Dayn felt his courage building. “But in Kirador this scar means nothing. It’s only the color of my eyes and my hair that signals my differences. In Tearia, had I been allowed to thrive, I would have been a royal, someone whose family had riches and political authority. But here—”
“What is this Tearia you speak of?” Uaine asked.
“It is a great land,” Dayn said, “on the other side of the mountains. It wasn’t destroyed, at least not like the texts say it was.”
Uaine rose from his seat. “All but Kirador was destroyed during Daghadar’s Purge,” he said. “You’ll not dispute that truth in this sacred circle.”
“Where shall we dispute it then?” Alicine said, leaning around Dayn. “Because it is going to be disputed.”
Uaine sputtered in an attempt to respond.
“More braw then ye know what to do with, eh Uaine?” Brenainn chortled.
“We’ll discuss the subject of Tearia now, Uaine,” Peadar said. “As Chief of the hostin’ clan, I have the final word at this plenum.”
Uaine’s brows met, then he tilted his head in forced deference and sat back on the bench.
“Do ye have somethin’ to add, Alicine?” Peadar asked.
“My brother and I went into the cave,” she said.
“The forbidden cave?” voices asked in amazement.
“Yes. And through it we wound our way to the other side of the mountains. Tearia is there. We saw it. And there are people there, fair-haired people like Dayn, and with eyes like his and Eyan’s.”
“People or no, d’ye not deny they’ll bring nothin’ but harm to us?” Brenainn asked.
“They won’t come here,” Alicine insisted.
“How kin ye know that fer certain, lass?” Brenainn said. “They been here before, en they?”
“Have ye seen any such creatures in your realm lately, Peadar?” Ionhar asked. “You’re closest to the range. Any reason to suspect more demons are crossing over?”
“No, none,” Peadar replied. He turned his attention to Dayn. “What keeps these Tearians on their side of the mountains?”
“Long ago the people of our world traveled back and forth. But the mountain erupted, sending death and destruction. Many from both sides were killed. The Tearians decided to allow no more people from Kirador to pass into their lands; and they would allow no more Tearians to pass into ours. Soldiers were sent to protect their borders. Anyone who tried to pass beyond them was killed.”
“Then why did they invade us?” Uaine asked. “Why did they seize our lands and murder our people?”
“I don’t know,” Dayn said. “Perhaps it was rogues or some group that had broken away from Tearia.”
“There was more to it than tha’,” Brenainn reminded them. “Those damned cat-folk came over first.”
“Aye,” Peadar said. “The Taubastets. Caught between us and them.” He shook his head. “Most unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate indeed,” Uaine said. “If not for the cats, we’d have defeated the demon hordes sooner.”
Ionhar clenched his fists. He had been silent thus far, but the topic had clearly touched a nerve. “If not for what we did to the cats, we’d have had them as ally, not foe!”
Brenainn rolled his eyes. “Achh…here we go again,” he muttered.
“That debate is not up for discussion tonight,” Peadar said. He turned his attention back to Dayn. “If this place ye speak of does exist, we’ll need proof. We’re in no position to make a stand without it. Maybe there are Tearians, maybe there aren’t. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t demons, too. The Taubastets of old proved the existence of cultures even our ancestors weren’t aware of. And that’s what caused the divide.”
Eileis rose. “Divided, yes, but we shouldn’t be, not from each other.” She turned to the audience. “Your ancestors migrated from the higher mountains when they lost their battle with those you call demon. It was Konyl who led your kin. It was Konyl who died for them.”
Voices agreed. “Hail, Konyl,” many said.
“Yes,” Eileis said. “Hail, Konyl. But he was fighting for more than the lands you lost; he was fighting for the convictions you’ve since given away! What do you think Konyl would say if he were to see you cow-towing to the likes of Lorcan and the Vestry? Assimilating values is one thing. Turning away from your beliefs is another.”
A woman standing up front spoke. “I mean no disrespect to Konyl,” she said. “We Sandrights appreciate him and the other Aeries fightin’ the hoards for us back then the way they did. But that was a long time ago, and since then the laws o’ the Vestry have become the real threat. You know what happened to those who refused to give up the old ways.”
“Their sacrifices will not be forgotten,” Eileis said.
“Maybe the Vestry’s right,” the woman continued, “and the Maker is angry with us for not listenin’. I don’t know. But I do know the wells on our land have gone bad. That livestock is dyin’ and crops are witherin’. If Daghadar’s sendin’ us a message, then we’d best pay heed to it!”
“Daghadar does indeed send us a message,” Eileis said.
“No,” Ionhar interrupted. “He sends us a test.”
“A test?” Uaine said.
“Aye, ye know…” Brenainn retorted, “like a challenge o’ sorts.”
“I know what a test is,” Uaine growled. “I meant what manner of test?”
“A test of our spiritual strength,” Eileis said.
“A test to see if we’re worthy,” Ionhar added. Then he smiled slyly. “The same test, I believe, the followers of the Vestry are currently experiencin’.”
“Yes,” Eileis said, “but their solution is to cleanse Kirador of what they perceive to be the cause of it. And that gets us back to one of the reasons for this Gatherin’: Dayn.”
“How can I be responsible for all that?” Dayn sputtered. “I only just got back!”
“Doesn’t matter,” Eileis said. “The Vestry means to make an example of you. They believe you’ve roused the demons against them and that the clans, especially the Aeries, have been a party to it.”
“Ye know this to be true?” Peadar asked her.
“Yes. Lorcan paid me a visit just days ago. Asked me to persuade you to turn Dayn over.”
“And you said?” Dayn interjected.
“What do you think I said,” Eileis replied. “I told him what he could do with himself.” She smiled at Vania. “I learned that from you, Vania.”
The audience laughed.
“I see no humor in this,” Uaine seethed. “Your words may well have lit a fire!”
“The fire was already lit,” Eileis said. “Lit the moment the first Vestry torch was set upon those who opposed them! How long has it been since your own clansmen were staked for their beliefs? Have you forgotten their suffering?”
The audience grew solemn.
“No, Eileis. We’ve not forgotten,” Ionhar said softly. “But we can’t risk it again.”
“Yet you would consider sending Dayn to the Vestry?”
Ionhar rose from the bench. “I would not consider it. And neither will Peadar, I’m sure.”
Peadar nodded.
“Easy to say, Ionhar,” Uaine argued. “But the fact is, we have no choice but to consider it.”
“I’ll agree with ye there,” Brenainn muttered, his arms f
olded across his chest. “Don’ mean we hafta send him though.”
“Very well. It’s been considered,” Eileis said. She ran her eyes along the line of Chieftains, capturing the attention of them one by one. “So what will it be, Lords? Do you send the boy to the Vestry, or do you tell them what they can do with themselves?”
The Chieftains glanced at each other.
“Braw,” Brenainn said, then he gave her a broad smile. “Ye’ll not be seein’ us send yon Dayn to the Vestry this day, Spirit Keeper.”
“That’s good to know,” she said, “for we face another threat, one that is far greater than that of the Vestry: We face the mountain.” She stared hard at the Chieftains. “You know Dayn is not the cause of our troubles. It is the Vestry that must be convinced.”
“But how to convince ‘em,” Ionhar said thoughtfully.
“The only way we can,” Eileis said. “We tell them Dayn’s story, show them there may be more in this world than what they have chosen to see. For this to ring true, the clans must be united in it; there can be no fighting amongst you.”
“No judgment of this magnitude can be made without proof and further deliberation,” Peadar said.
“I can give you proof,” Dayn said.
All heads turned.
“Well, let’s see it then!” Brenainn said.
“You can’t see it tonight,” Dayn said. “But I can show it to you in the morning.”
“The morning?” Uaine said with indignation. “What’s wrong with now?”
Dayn looked at Eyan, then drew a steadying breath. “Because the proof is in a cave.”
The muscles in Haskel’s face constricted. Dayn saw Eyan glance his father’s way, then jerk his eyes back to the floor.
The Chieftains turned to each other, muttering and discussing. In the background the crowd buzzed with discussions of their own.
Peadar rose and stepped toward the audience. The circle grew quiet.
“It is determined by the jury of your lordships that the Plenum of Four shall re-converge tomorrow.” The audience gawked with surprise. “Until then,” Peadar continued, “we’ll take into account all evidence presented to us in the matter of Tearia and the birthrights in question, includin’ young Eyan, whose request for clan rights has not yet been thoroughly addressed. We will notify ye of the time when the next plenum is to take place. Meanwhile, you’re all to remain here at the Gatherin’.”
People stood speechless. No plenum had ever been cut short in the history of Gatherings. The crowd began to grow restless. How long were they to wait? many could be heard asking. What were they to do until then?
Brenainn threw a hand up. “Be glad of it, ye fools,” he bellowed. “Now get on with yer partyin’.”
The crowd’s mood lifted, but Dayn’s could not help but plunge. The misery of this night was now doomed to drag into the next and maybe even the next. And then what? Only the writings in the cave held the answer to that.
Back to ToC
Chapter 24: The Dance
The music was lively, but the rhythm of the dancers’ feet was sluggish in comparison. Fiddle-bows bounced across vibrating strings; pipes chirped to the pounding of the drums. But the patrons seemed distracted as they made their way across the floor.
Dayn sat slumped in a chair against the far wall, his arms crossed and legs stretched out before him. He watched as a young man in blue ushered a female partner to the center of the dance floor. The girl, dressed in velvety shades of sienna, smiled and flicked her eyes at Dayn. Her fingertips were resting on her partner’s outstretched palm, indicating they were a couple, at least for the duration of the dance. But when the young man noticed her smiling at Dayn, he threw an arm around her waist to further stake his claim. An Elder standing nearby gave him a glare that could have dropped him where he stood. The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He knew full well it was unacceptable for a male to touch an unmarried female in such a manner. The boy tipped his head to the Elder, asking forgiveness with his eyes if not with his words.
Dayn snickered to himself. The boy looked rather pitiful, he thought, like a pup that had been put in his place. It was a ridiculous ritual, trying to keep boys and girls at arm’s length like that. Perhaps the older patrons didn’t mind it, but the younger ones wanted nothing more than to wrap those arms around each other. After years of sitting on the sidelines, Dayn had become a keen observer of such things. He knew the boy’s non-verbal apology was merely for show; the couple had probably arranged a private rendezvous later.
“Tell me what they’re doin’,” Eyan said, interrupting Dayn’s musings. Eyan was sitting beside him, his wide gaze bouncing around the room.
“Dancing,” Dayn said.
“I know, but the other part…the fingers on the hands, the—”
“They are pretending they don’t want to roll in the hay with each other.”
“What?” Eyan asked.
“Never mind. Look, their fingertips are allowed to touch, but their arms keep them apart. It lets others know they belong to each other, at least for the duration of the dance. It’s all part of the courtship.”
“Courtship,” Eyan echoed, keeping his eyes on the swirling dancers. “Explain how one does the courtship.”
Dayn sighed. Perhaps Eyan was a simpleton, but if he needed an explanation, Dayn supposed he was the best person to give it to him, though he would probably do better learning about courtship from someone who had actually done it.
“Well,” Dayn said, “courting is when a couple gets to know each other. They usually start by visiting each other at their parents’ houses; then, with permission, they might be allowed to go to dances, maybe sit next to each other at festival dinners, things like that.” He inclined his head toward the girl who had flicked her eyes in his direction earlier, a Sandright, and her audacious partner, a Crest. “See that boy and girl there? They’re from different clans. In the past, the clans were too far apart for any real courtship to take place between them. But the Sandrights have joined with the Crests, so they’ll probably mix now. I think it’s good; it makes the clans seem more united.”
Eyan’s forehead creased with confusion.
Dayn laughed. “All right, let’s just focus on the couple. They are dancing together, see? So are probably courting.”
“And because they’re courtin’, they’ll marry each other?” Eyan asked.
Dayn shrugged. “Maybe. But they’re not obligated to. If you’ll notice, the girl’s looking at other boys, not just the one she’s dancing with. The boy however—”
“He’s lookin’ at other boys,” Eyan said, attempting to fill in the blanks.
“No,” Dayn snapped. “God, Eyan, don’t you know anything.”
Eyan winced.
Dayn immediately regretted his tone. Of course Eyan didn’t know anything; he had spent the past nineteen years in seclusion. How could he possibly know about courtship? His parents had decided early on that he would not be allowed to marry. They obviously hadn’t talked to him about things he could never hope to have. But if they hadn’t talked to him about courting, what else hadn’t they talked to him about?
Dayn glanced around, assessing who might be within earshot, then leaned in and said, “How much do you know about…procreation?”
Eyan looked startled, then his expression turned to genuine interest. “Father talked to me about it once. I’ve seen the horses do it. And other animals.”
“Right. But people do it, too.” Dayn felt like a complete idiot; surely Eyan knew all this.
“I’m not stupid,” Eyan said. “But only certain people are allowed to procreate, right?”
Dayn felt his aggravation rise to the surface. But it wasn’t toward Eyan. It was toward the way his cousin had been excluded from everything, how he had been denied a full life, and how, until recently, he’d had little hope for a future either. As Dayn thought on it, he realized it wasn’t entirely Haskel’s and Vania’s fault. They had, after all, only done it to protect him. All
too often parents were forced to make difficult decisions in regard to their children; Dayn had learned that well enough from his own mother, Brina, who had given him to a stranger rather than have him slain because of his birthmark. Dayn reached up his hand, fingering the flower-shaped stain on his neck.
“Right?”
Eyan’s voice drew Dayn back. “Uh…no, Eyan. Anyone can procreate.” But Dayn knew the statement, though easily said, was not so easily done. He himself had once been told he would not be allowed to marry. Sheireadan had rubbed it in his face at the Summer Fires festival, the day Dayn had run away several months prior. Apparently everyone had known of Dayn’s impending bachelorhood, everyone except him, that is. Even Dayn’s own parents knew, though they had not bothered to tell him about it. It was that, and all the other miseries he had suffered on account of his differences, that had prompted Dayn to leave Kirador in the first place. At the time, he’d felt he had little choice in the matter. But since going to Tearia and meeting his cousin Reiv, since learning of his own heritage, experiencing his first kiss, and ultimately wielding a sword in battle, Dayn had evolved into a different person. No longer was he a boy who would accept a fate imposed on him by others. He was his own master now.
He watched Eyan’s face, trying to interpret his cousin’s response to the answer he’d just been given. But Eyan’s attention seemed elsewhere, or maybe that in itself was the response. His eyes were fully alight with excitement as they watched the couples pirouette around the dance floor. Good, Dayn thought. Maybe there’ll be no more questions.
Dayn surveyed the crowd, realizing everyone’s earlier reluctance to celebrate had dissipated. The place was fairly well hopping with merriment now. There were so many people on the dance floor, it was hard to follow the movements of the boy and girl who had been the subject of Dayn’s courtship speech. He craned his neck, searching the room for a sign of them.
Dayn followed the swirl of flouncing skirts and colorful tunics, until at last he spotted the couple in question. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen to seek them out in the first place. Perhaps it was because of the way the girl had looked at him. Or maybe it was because for the first time in his life he’d actually made another male jealous. Either way, as Dayn watched he realized how very pretty the girl was. He glanced at Eyan, noting his cousin’s eyes were realizing the same thing.
Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn Page 22
