by Ann Raina
“I understand. Where did you come from, Rakan?”
The old man squinted as if he did not get the meaning of her question. He touched his bald head, smacked his lips and asked his young son to bring him water.
“I’ve always lived here,” he said by a while. “There is no other settlement around.”
“Yes, but there must have been a first settler. Someone who came here in the beginning and carved the first hut out of a tree.”
“It was no one I know of. All of the people you see have lived here since they were born. And you? You had long to travel to find us.” He nodded to himself. “But we are glad that you did this traveling.”
“Yes.” Rayenne forced a smile on her face. “I’m happy, too.”
The men around were glad to hear that.
* * * *
Enveloped in a soft material that smelled of flowers and grass, Sajitar slept, feeling safe and sound, undisturbed by pain or fear. He was floating comfortably in a warm cloud and only his face was touched by a cool but pleasant breeze. He knew there was peace around him and that he would live to see old age and be happy for all time to come. Happiness would develop from women and children, from success in hunting and the carving of wood to pieces of art. He would be praised for his skills and become a valuable member of a growing society. They would all love him if he loved them.
The light of a new day and the small sounds of birds around finally woke him. Clinging to the wisps of his dream, he opened his eyes only to stare into the large black compound eyes of a winged Horlyn twice his size. He cried out in shock, freed his hands from the soft cover and tried to crawl backwards. He put his hands on the rim of his makeshift bed, but did not move an inch. The Horlyn tweeted and lowered its antennae as if wishing him a good morning.
Panting, Sajitar divided his attention between the calmly waiting Horlyn and his body. His chest and belly were covered with a milky mass. He remembered the Horlyn applying some cool liquid to the wound, but now it was hard enough to hamper his movements. He could breathe, but not sit up, and when he clawed at the cover he hurt so bad he let go. He was trapped in a warm bed and watched by an insectoid that would certainly not allow him to crawl away.
The Horlyn made no move so Sajitar dared to take his eyes off of him and look around. Branches with thick leaves shaded him from the sunlight. He saw a patch of blue sky shimmering through. Realizing his situation, he made an effort to turn sideways by using his hands to pull himself to the rim of his makeshift bed.
The look down made him gasp. He was lying on the crossing of branches in one of the giant trees like a young bird in a nest. There was no telling how far up he was kept since he could not see the ground. He struggled to get a tighter grip of the rim, fighting sudden nausea. The Horlyn still waited patiently, only watching his attempts without helping or hampering him.
A helpless laugh escaped him. Even without the presence of a winged Horlyn, there was only a snowball’s chance in hell that he would make it down to the ground in one piece.
Exhausted, he rolled back to stare at the sunlit leaves. He felt no pain, no cold and under different circumstances he would have been glad to be alive.
* * * *
“I brought her here, so why don’t you just leave and I stay?”
“Because you’re but a youngling, Bajan,” a deep voice answered. “You have to wait for your turn. I am older.”
“Finders, keepers.”
“Don’t be insolent! Now, leave me alone, will ya?”
“I won’t leave before she accepts my present.”
Rayenne groaned. Bajan and that other man were the fifth and sixth wooer standing virtually on her doorstep. The other three women she shared the tree hut with giggled softly.
“Go, collect your presents and choose the man you want.”
“Is that necessary? I mean, I already told the others that I have a partner. He’s my companion or however you call the man in your life.”
Rahay shook her head. She had beautiful red locks that framed a small, round face. To Rayenne, she was the most attractive woman in this village, but, as she had learned, attractiveness alone was not the most important attribute. The two women bearing children were regarded as crown of creation. Probably until the next woman gets pregnant.
“Your man is not here and no one knows when or if he will return. In that time, all men of age will come to you. I don’t grasp your one-man-argument. We all can have sex with whomever we want. The village will grow with every newborn child.”
“Where I come from, a woman chooses one man to live with. And she stays with him for her lifetime.”
“Maybe. But you live here now. And I ask you to take what these men have to offer. They will not leave until you do so.”
Sighing, Rayenne received the presents, made no choice and returned to her small pallet. The flowers and a small bowl with seeds were stowed away. She heard the men grumble and then, later, walk away.
Rayenne lay awake for a long time, thinking of Sajitar and praying for his return.
During the day, Rayenne took up every chore that led her out of the village. She went to collect berries, she fetched water from a nearby spring and she even volunteered to fetch hot water from the well for the evening meal. It was hard work and her help was appreciated. Everyone praised her and especially the men watched her every step. She felt measured and scrutinized in a unique way. Not every conversation was unpleasant, yet she knew the men would not wait weeks to make a final move. The other women had told her that mating was a common act among them. There was not so much as an invitation that had to be accepted.
Though she had tried, there had been no opportunity to go back and follow the Horlyn track. The villagers advised her not to walk too far and she never left the village alone. Even Bajan, who turned out to be a learned young man for his age, kept her from searching for the Horlyns that had taken Sajitar.
Every time Rayenne mentioned the Horlyns, her companions smiled. In the hour before the meal was served, she strayed away from the activity in the village. Thannis, who had been too occupied with work until now to take much notice of the newly arrived, followed her for a while without talking. When she halted to look around nervously, he approached her with a smile.
“They are friends, Ray, believe us. We have to thank them for many things. We also exchange many things.”
Rayenne leaned against a trunk and lowered her head. “You do?”
Thannis kept a formal distance and spread his hands. He had short black hair turning grey in spots and his voice was as gentle as were his light brown eyes. His smile told of warmth and equanimity and for the first time Rayenne felt at ease. She could not tell why Thannis was different, yet she cherished his presence. When she slid down to sit, Thannis lowered himself on the ground, Indian style. He pointed at a weed that carried small orange fruits at the outer leaves.
“For example, we give them cooked nuts and receive some creamy powder in return that’s truly delicious.”
“Couldn’t you find that by yourself?”
“Why should we if they support us? And it’s not that we just wait for them to bring food. Not like Rakan said. Since the village is growing with every season, the Color-changers expect us to take care of ourselves while the trade still goes on. It is a true exchange. They also give us tools or show us places where to find seeds and soft grass to weave baskets.”
“You mean symbiosis.”
He pursed his lips and then, as if he had to ponder long, nodded.
“Yes, I think you could call it like that.” He laughed suddenly and scratched behind his prominent ear. “Not that I would call us small animals that live off a bigger one. I still think of us as higher beings.”
She shook her head.
“By what I have heard these beasts attack men and abduct them so that they never find home again. Or they do things to them so that they go mad. There was much talk about that when I got to Belthraine.”
“No, that’s not true
.” Thannis still had his hand open, palms up, searching for words. “That’s not their way. They are peaceful. They eat bark and fruits and what we bring them.” He shrugged and cocked his head. “Maybe they only try to eat it because they want to know what we eat. However, I’ve never seen them eat meat. Did you see them do this?”
She wanted to answer, but the same moment thought that she had never watched a Horlyn swallow an animal or gnaw on bones. Every encounter on their journey had ended with the Horlyns leaving quietly. They had not even attacked the B-horses, though they had grazed close by. Maybe that was the reason why the B-horses did not run away.
Thannis lowered his chin. “I can tell of the fight within your soul. You ask what you shall believe. It is not unheard of that convictions can be overcome. Even by the truth.”
Rayenne frowned and bent forward to look in his eyes. “Did you experience the same? Were you brought here from another place?”
“Why do you ask?”
Rayenne took his sudden squinting as a sign. “Call it a hunch. All of the settlers claim to have lived here forever, even old Rakan. But how can that be? There must have been some men and women who once started the village. Some must have made the decision to come into the heart of Emerald Green and found a village. They didn’t fall from the sky!” And when he did not reply, she asked, “Are you one of them? Please, Thannis, all of this around here is too…strange to be true. Help me understand.”
He looked at her, mild amusement in his eyes.
“Only because I pour my wisdom out over you does not make me a traveler. I have lived here as far back as I can think. If I had ever lived elsewhere it was beyond that day and I can’t remember it.”
She hit the ground with her hands, angered by his mild tone.
“Why does everybody lie to me? Animals as well as mankind develop over centuries, millennia. Men have only been known on Belthraine for a day more than a hundred standard years. So if you claim to have lived here forever, there must be a reasonable explanation.”
“None that I can give.” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and when he opened them again, his equanimity spread to Rayenne like a soothing wave. “You have to change your view of this world. The Color-changers are friends and friends must not be insulted. They are strong and wise. Both traits should not be meddled with.”
“It’s just—” She lacked the words and Thannis nodded, understanding her inner turmoil.
“I don’t know where you come from and what you learned, Ray, but here, the Color-changers are the guardians of our village. We cooperate with them. We accept what they are and they reward us for our friendship. That’s all we need for a peaceful life.”
Rayenne felt her fears abate. Had there been reasons to be afraid at all? The Horlyns are friends, aren’t they? Then why did Sajitar send me away? Had he known that the Horlyn would take him? She hung her head, sunken into misery.
“You will find peace here, too,” Thannis consoled her, “no matter if your partner returns or not. We have good people here. Let them love you and love them in return.”
She opened her mouth for a reply, but it did not come. A Horlyn showed up and Thannis turned around and greeted it with a wave of his hand. For a flitting moment, Rayenne expected the creature to wave back, but that would have been asking too much.
Chapter Eight
The sun had already set and the intense smell of herbs lay in the air. Around the large, flat stone in the village center Kalyssa and two young women sat and sang, accompanied by the high notes of a wooden flute Bajan played. The song was lively and told of the woods and animals and how life relied on the peaceful coexistence of all inhabitants. Other women, children and a few men joined the song’s refrain and Rayenne clapped her hands with them, content and at peace with herself. The daily chores were done and the gathering at nightfall belonged to the settlers’ many rituals.
For ten days she had learned of the daily duties, how the villagers harvested herbs and fruits and how they plowed their little fields to grow grain. Some men went hunting. Some undertook the longer journey to a small river to fish and were not expected back for another two days. Bajan had complained and quarreled to join the hunting party, but was considered too young and inexperienced to be among the grown-ups. His comments had been multi-colored for a village youth, and Rayenne understood his disappointment. After all, he was no small child and she would have accepted his company at once, even if he continued wooing. Most men of the village had let her know of their interest and so far she had friendly, but distinctively told them to stay away. Right now she felt many eyes resting on her, maybe searching for a sign, maybe just curious. Since there were fewer women than men, their lasting interest was understandable.
The song ended with cheers and applause. The women accepted the praise, laughed, and began another tune. Two men stood to dance and, after introducing themselves with an exaggerated bow, turned clumsily around each other, shaking hands and finally ending in an embrace. The settlers laughed heartily, clapped louder and cheered the dancers into another, equally silly performance.
Rayenne leaned back against a fallen trunk that worked as a backrest. The easy-going nature about the village warmed her heart. She still did not understand how these people had gotten here in the first place and not even Thannis wanted to talk about his arrival in Emerald Green, but the loving cooperation got to her in a unique way. The people had few things and they shared them without any tendency to possessions. They worked as a team and spent their free time together like one big family.
And yet her thoughts returned to Sajitar frequently, no matter how friendly the company was. Every now and again the unbidden threat to leave this place and return to Belson Park to confess her failure came to her mind and she knew that sooner rather than later she would have to be on her way.
She took a sip from the sweet wine and, looking up, found Thannis reaching out to her.
“Do you want to dance, milady?”
“How could I resist?” Rayenne took his hand and was pulled up. Thannis’ strength was astonishing as well as his ability to dance to the music the women and the flute made. She found the rhythm easily and floated with it. How long since I’ve danced? He grinned at her, then whirled her around, so that she gave a yelp of surprise, causing the audience to laugh and whistle with appreciation. Back in his arms, Rayenne read in Thannis’ eyes much more than just happiness about dancing. And though she was not out for a partner, the older man’s approach was honest and touching.
When the music ended, he squeezed her hand and let go. She told him with a smile that she had understood before she turned around to sit down again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement outside the gathering and turned around.
Sajitar stumbled toward the group, his light skin color a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness. He fell on his knees and came up again like a drunkard on his last steps toward his home.
“Saji!” Rayenne ran before thinking of it and reached her companion to help and guide him to the others. “Bring a blanket! A cover! Something! He is shaking with cold! Saji, hey, can you hear me?”
“Here!” Tari was already handing her a large blanket, which Rayenne threw around Sajitar’s shoulders.
“Thanks. Saji, are you all right? Come, sit down.” She supported him to the center and accepted another blanket to cover his legs when he slumped on the ground to lean heavily against the trunk. His eyes were sunken, his face haggard and he had lost so much weight that his ribs and hipbones stood out. She flinched. “Speak to me, Saji. Please.”
He lifted his head and looked at the villagers and Rayenne as if he had to collect enough information for a proper answer. He had grown a wild beard and the unkempt mess of hair completed an appearance she had feared to see. He licked his lips and nodded thanks when someone handed him a goblet with water. He drank and cleared his throat, turning toward Rayenne. The shadow of a smile crept across his face.
“I’m…I’m fine. Still in one piece
.”
“Let me see.” Rayenne pulled down the blanket to check the wound. Only pinkish scar tissue remained where the hole had been below his ribcage. She was surprised how fast the wound had healed. “The Horlyns took care of you.”
“Apparently.”
She kissed his cheek. He smelled of grass and soil and a musty note she did not want to interpret. She smiled at him and, sighing, admitted, “I’m glad to have you back. I can’t tell you how much I missed you. Are you hungry?”
“I’ll get him something to wear,” Nassaly said in her practical mother tone. “It’ll do him no good sitting here naked.”
“Hungry?” Sajitar let out air that sounded like coughing, rattling deep in his throat. He held fast to the goblet as if he hadn’t seen one in his lifetime. “No, I guess, I’m not hungry, but…some other food than mash would be nice.”
Before Rayenne reacted, Bajan brought a small bowl with the rest of the soup the settlers had for dinner.
“Here, eat.”
“Thank you.” Sajitar took a few sips while the men and women around waited patiently and quietly for him to tell about his time with the Color-changers. He looked around wearily.
Rayenne read his confused expression, but instead of an explanation she pulled him close, too relieved for words. She kissed his bearded cheek and neck again, content to see him alive and well. She had not conceded to herself how much she had missed him until the moment of his return. All of her worries abated. She was lightheaded, even happy.
“How do you feel?”
Sajitar emptied the bowl and put it down.
“Alive. Safe.” He laughed a little, helpless laugh. “Suddenly in a company I had not expected.”
“I’ll tell you about them later,” she whispered. “It’s a long story.”
