Hand of Fire (The Master of the Tane)

by Rath, Thomas

  “I be famished little lassie!” he roared reaching eagerly for a piece of bread.

  Rani raised her hand to stop him. “And what do you think you are doing?”

  Helgar stopped suddenly, his mouth agape. “Ye did offer some of them vittles now didn’t ye, miss?”

  Rani gave him a stern look as if she were dealing with a mere child. “Of course, but not until you clean up first. Just look at yourself. You’re filthy.”

  Helgar looked at his blood stained shirt and hands. “What, this? ‘Tis nothing. Why I’ve eaten a whole meal at the king’s table itself much dirtier than this.”

  Rani scoffed at such a thought. “Well, you’ll eat nothing at this humble table until you have properly bathed and changed your clothes. Now, I suggest you hurry up and get started before the fog completely disappears and you are left standing in the open bare as the day you were born.”

  Helgar’s face turned bright red but whether from anger or embarrassment she could not tell. His eyes glared at hers as if to force her with sheer will. Rani stared back just as hard not backing down in the least. Finally, throwing his hands up and cursing under his breath, he turned and stalked away down the bank towards the river. Rani smiled trying desperately to hold back her laughter as his curses suddenly turned into shouts of dismay as he entered the frigid water to bathe. Loud splashes and howls filled the morning air mingling with Rani’s peals of laughter chasing the nearby birds into the clear skies above.

  Soon, Helgar reappeared still dripping from his morning bath, a sour look squeezing his face. “I hope ye be satisfied. I’m as...as...as...aaaachooo!” Rani jumped at the loud sneeze that bulged out his eyes and sprayed the air with spittle. “There now,” Helgar grumbled, “I’ve gone and caught a sniffle!”

  Rani held back the smile that beat at her lips for escape. For such a husky and rough looking creature, he sure seemed awfully pampered. “Have some bread,” Rani offered. “I’ll start a fire and warm up some tea for your...” she smiled, “sniffle.”

  Helgar grabbed the bread. “Better let me be gettin’ the wood lass. No telling what might be lurking about.”

  Rani was about to protest but Helgar was already up and heading into the forest. In scant minutes he returned with an arm full of lumber and in no time they had a warm fire and some hot mulberry tea. Rani checked Bardolf again and then settled down next to Helgar and sipped her tea letting the morning’s activities wash away with the warmth of the fire.

  “That be good tea,” Helgar said, gulping down the last bit in his cup before accepting a refill. “I usually throw back a draught of ale with me breakfast, but this be just fine.”

  Rani stared at the brash young dwarf and shook her head at his attempts to impress her. He almost seemed clumsy. Glancing at the wicked looking axe resting near his side she remembered the grace with which he had wielded his weapon against the orcs. He had seemed so sure and confident. Now he seemed more like an ungainly adolescent.

  “So what brings ye out this far from the swamps?” Helgar asked timidly, catching her suddenly off guard.

  Rani sucked in a breath, almost like a gasp as tears instantly glossed her eyes.

  Helgar frowned at her sudden change. “I...uh...I be sorry. I did not mean to upset ye again.”

  Rani smiled at Helgar’s bumbling manner and then rested her hand lightly on his arm. “It’s all right, Helgar. It’s nothing you said.” Wiping the tears from her eyes, she curled her legs up under her chin and stared at the fire. “It’s why I am here that makes me sad. I don’t want to be in this place.”

  Helgar’s frown deepened. “I understand. I have offended ye beyond forgiveness. I will leave with Bardolf as soon as he be able.”

  Rani smiled at the sudden gentleness of the powerful young man. “Oh Helgar, no. It has nothing to do with you at all.”

  Helgar brightened a bit. “Honest?”

  “Honest.” Rani’s face once again became a mask of pain. “It’s something else. Something that I must do.”

  Helgar sat up quickly. “Can I help?”

  Rani stared at the eager dwarf with eyes that looked beyond, covered with shadow. “No,” she whispered. “No one can.” She could sense Helgar’s confusion and discomfort, and without quite knowing why, she continued. “My husband and son were taken by a creature of the swamps not many days past. I am on an Appeasing Journey.”

  “What be that?” Helgar burst out.

  Rani picked up a small stick and pushed it into the fire stirring the coals and sending tiny sparks drifting into the air. “When a loved one dies, someone must go on an Appeasing Journey to satisfy the ancestors. That way his soul will be accepted by them and find peace.”

  Helgar was riveted in place. “And what do ye have to be doin’ on this journey of yers?”

  Rani sighed slightly. “I must find a gift to present to the ancestors. When I have found what I seek, I must drop it into the swamp at the base of my tree. Then the ancestors will be appeased and my husband and Tahben will find rest with them.” A tear escaped down Rani’s face as she finished, landing unnoticed upon her quivering lip.

  Helgar pressed. “And what is it ye seek?”

  Rani shrugged and looked up into the dwarf’s concerned face. “I don’t know. Something worthy of the ancestors.”

  Bardolf suddenly wheezed followed by a massive convulsion that shook violently through his entire body. Rani rushed to his side and was instantly knocked back by a flailing tree trunk of an arm that split her lip in a gush of blood. Helgar sat frozen for a long moment and then rushed to her side to help her. “I’m all right!” she shouted. “Get hold of his arms and hold him so I can check his wound.”

  Helgar practically jumped on Bardolf wrestling the unconscious dwarf into spasms of brief submission. Sweat beaded on Helgar’s face at the strain of trying to hold down his friend. “Hurry up,” he grunted. “I can’t be holdin’ him all day now.”

  Rani wiped the blood from her lip and then moved in again for a closer look. Pulling back the bandage, she practically spat. “Just as I feared. It’s festering. He’s burning up with fever.”

  Helgar grunted against the strain, his muscles bulging in protest. “What does that mean?”

  Bardolf suddenly fell still. “It means,” Rani sighed, her lip throbbing with pain, “that if we don’t get him cooled down quickly, he’s going to die.”

  Helgar’s face went pale. “He can’t die. He just can’t. What do we do? You have to save him. It’s just a small scratch. What do we do?”

  Rani grabbed Helgar’s arm pulling his eyes into hers. “Relax, Helgar. I didn’t say he was going to die this instant. Do you think you can lift him?”

  Helgar stared at her dumbly and nodded.

  “Good. You pick him up and get him down to the river. I have an idea.”

  Helgar obeyed her orders without question, easily hefting his companion over his shoulder and deftly followed Rani down to the banks of the river below. Finding a good-sized boulder, Rani tied her canoe to its mass and then pushed her craft to the river’s edge. “Put him in,” she directed.

  Helgar hesitated for only a brief moment before following her order.

  “Now, help me tie him to the boat. We don’t want to lose him down stream.”

  Helgar nodded, still unsure of what exactly it was they were doing as he helped Rani tie Bardolf’s legs, arms and chest to the tiny craft. Satisfied the cords would hold, Rani put her weight against the canoe. “All right now, help me push him into the river.”

  The boat swayed slightly as it was forced off the shore and was caught by the current. Helgar eyed the line suspiciously but was soon convinced it was not going to give way. “Now,” Rani instructed, “help me sink the canoe.”

  “What?!” Helgar burst. “Are ye daft woman?! Are ye tryin’ to drown the boy ‘fore the fever kills him?”

  Rani felt her temper flare at the accusation. “Of course not, you dolt! But the water is not going to cool his fever if he doesn’t get
into it.”

  Helgar glanced at the canoe and then at Rani’s glaring face. “Oh. Sorry.”

  She didn’t reply, but pushed the side of the canoe into the cool water quickly swamping the craft and immersing Bardolf’s whole frame into the river. The current gripped his body, testing the hold the lashings had on him, as if hungry to claim another victim. Rani sat on the stern where the canoe just barely broke free of the water and lifted Bardolf’s head from the water. “I’ll need some more spindle root flowers and some feverfew. You know what that looks like?”

  Helgar nodded again and whispered, “I’ll get ‘em.”

  The day passed slowly for both as they traded off keeping Bardolf’s nose out of the freezing, river water. His fever still had not abated and his sleep was restless but the convulsions did not return which gave Rani hope. Helgar had fallen into a foul mood and could not be persuaded to speak much. Rani’s attempts at light conversation only brought grunts or glares from the gloomy dwarf so she gave up, returning to her own gloomy thoughts.

  Finally, when the light from the sun began to fade behind the mountains to the west Helgar called out in alarm. “What’s happening?”

  “What?!” Rani rushed down to the canoe from her spot on the bank where she had been dozing for the last couple of hours. “What’s the matter?”

  “I...I don’t know,” Helgar stammered shaking his head. “He not be movin’ about like before. He’s gone stone still.”

  Rani jumped into the river by the canoe. “Help me get the canoe out.”

  Helgar obliged and both strained against the current and the added weight of the water filled craft bringing it slowly up onto the sandy shore. Rani quickly checked Bardolf’s breathing, which was steady and strong. Feeling his forehead, she could detect none of the fire that had, until so recently, been burning him up from the inside out. “He’s all right!” she cried. “We did it. The fever has broken!”

  Helgar shouted and commenced to dance a jig reeling about like a drunken man.

  Rani laughed at his relief and enthusiasm feeling as if some of her own sorrow had just been permanently drained away, swallowed in the joy of helping another. Suddenly, Helgar caught her up into his arms and twirled her about almost sending her flying as he set her down again and started into another step.

  For the first time since starting her journey, Rani slept that night without dreaming. She slept without remembering and reliving the tragedy of her own loss. She slept in peace.

  The next morning, she was up early. The mists of the day before had returned, soaking everything in a thick blanket of dew. Miraculously, Helgar had started a fire and they shared its warmth and another pot of mulberry tea before Rani announced she had to be going.

  “I thought ye might be,” Helgar said gruffly, though Rani thought she sensed a touch of sorrow in his voice.

  “I have to complete my journey. Who knows what kind of trouble my children have gotten themselves into?” She tried to smile but it felt forced.

  “Thank ye lassie for yer help,” Helgar said with a slight touch of emotion. “Bardolf here might not have made it without you. I know I would not without that whistle stick of yers and those needles. I Thank ye.”

  Rani blushed. She knew it had been hard for Helgar to admit his need for her, and she found it was just as difficult for her to hear it. “Well,” she said softly. “I best be on my way.”

  Helgar looked at her with a pensive wrinkle to his forehead and then abruptly turned about. “Wait just one moment,” he said, rummaging through his pack. Turning back around, he held out two large, red stones and his sheathed dagger. “Take these. I think at least one of ‘em should appease yer ancestors.”

  Rani stared in disbelief. Never in her life had she seen such stones. “Oh no, Helgar. I couldn’t.”

  Helgar thrust them into her hand. “Just take ‘em and be off. This fog will be good cover fer ya.”

  Rani stared dumbfounded at the gems and the dagger now resting in her hand. Turning slowly about, she loaded her canoe and then started to push it into the water. Helgar watched her in silence when she suddenly stopped and turned back around. Running to him, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Helgar,” she said softly. “I will never forget you.” She then turned back and quickly boarded her canoe pushing it away from shore and disappearing quickly in the haunting mist.

  Helgar rubbed his cheek still able to feel where her lips had been only moments before. “Nor I ye, lassie,” he whispered. “Nor I ye.”

  Turning to Bardolf, he kicked his companion roughly in the ribs. “Get up ye lug,” he growled. “Ye’ve slept long enough.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Thane entered the family hut just as DorMar’s father, TaqSagn, made a small cut along his forearm in preparation for the blood purification ritual used to heal the sick. Thane had received word in the fields that his father had been struck with the killing fever and had sprinted home to see if he might help.

  Thane moved to his mother’s side, putting an arm of comfort around her shoulders, as Taq looked up from his work. “Ah, it is good that you are here Thane. The curing process is much quicker and stronger when a member of the family is of the VerSagn Tane and can administer the healing.”

  “No!” DelVen cried weakly. “I will not have his blood run through my veins. I will not!” He glared at them as if daring someone to challenge him until his eyes slowly rolled back into his head, the effort taking him to the edges of consciousness.

  Thane cast a sad glance down at his father. Taq stared sympathetically at the young boy. “It really would be for the best if you did it, Thane,” he half whispered.

  “I will not disobey my father’s wish,” he responded quietly. “Please continue.”

  TaqSagn slowly turned back to Del and then finally continued with the ceremony. Those of the VerSagn Tane were gifted with certain abilities, as were those of the other four Tane. The VerSagn Tane had a purifying affect on those who were sick and, in most cases, could cure illnesses by simply mixing their own blood with the one who was ill. Often, the patient returned to full health within hours.

  TaqSagn made a small cut on DelVen’s arm similar to the one on his own and then, after a short prayer to TehraMae, placed the two cuts together allowing the blood of both to mix together. DelVen responded immediately. His body jerked slightly for a brief moment before he quickly fell into a sound sleep.

  TaqSagn turned to Thane and lifted his arm, “Can you take care of these?” he asked referring to the cuts in his and Del’s arms.

  “Sure.” Thane stepped forward grabbing Taq’s arm and placed his hand over the cut. Taq grimaced in pain as a wisp of smoke rose between Thane’s fingers. The wound he had inflicted upon himself only moments ago was now scabbed over nicely and would be completely gone in a few days. This was a gift of the QenChe Tane that allowed those of its members to bring fire out of anything that was dead or without spirit. Because a cut in the flesh left a dead space that was void of spirit, as in DelVen’s case, the QenChe could draw fire from that space and cauterize the wound allowing the spirit to return to the once empty space and heal it quickly.

  Thane did the same for DelVen, taking advantage of his deep sleep, and then rose to thank Dor’s father.

  “I was happy to assist,” Taq said with a smile. “I think the blood was all that was needed. It appears to be working already so I wouldn’t worry about your father. I’m sure he’ll be back to his old self in an hour or two.”

  Lyn and Thane looked at each other and smiled weakly as if communicating the same wish. Both wanted Del to recover but neither liked the idea of him being his “old” self.

  “Well,” Lyn said trying to appear cheerful, “I guess you both need to return to the fields and continue with the planting. So I won’t keep you. Thank you again, TaqSagn.”

  “My pleasure,” he returned with a slight bow. “Come along, Thane,” he said grabbing the boy’s shoulder. “Your mother’s right. We
need to get back to the fields. Your father will be fine now.”

  With a nod from both, Lyn watched as they exited the hut before she turned back to Del. “I hope someday you can change your thoughts towards your son,” she sighed placing a cool cloth on her mate’s head.

  Taq and Thane quickly made their way back to the fields situated just north of town. The area was perfect for growing crops. The soil was rich and dark and close to the river. This especially pleased the MarGua Tane since it rested on them to keep the crops watered. The Chufa grew three main crops; wheat, corn and cotton. The forest provided other vegetation to supplement and give variety to their meals. Mushrooms, pine nuts, wild beans and berries were in plentiful supply throughout most of the Ardath as were onions and other tubers.

  The Chufa considered all life sacred and therefore did not kill animals for meat or clothing. The trees of the Ardath were also considered sacred and were never cut down or trimmed for firewood. Dead branches that were scattered about the forest floor provided enough wood for cooking fires and to provide heat in the cool months. By collecting and setting fire to scattered deadwood the Chufa also fulfilled one of their sacred duties. The Chufa held that all things contain spirit. The rocks, trees, animals, the sky, all things are full of life because of the spirit within them. When something dies, that spirit is trapped within the body and cannot escape to the next world where it will be reborn to perfection. The only way to free the spirit from its imprisonment is to call fire to it and burn away the corporal prison allowing it to escape and pass on. By burning the forest’s dead wood, the Chufa not only create warmth for themselves and heat for cooking, but they also free the spiritual parts contained in the dead limbs and trees.

  Thane joined those of the TehChao Tane who were spread throughout the fields planting this cycle’s crops. The Chufa did not plant crops in the traditional way by digging into their mother earth; this would create gaps in her spirit and bring death to that part of her body. Instead, the TehChao placed a seed just upon the ground. One from the VerSagn Tane then placed a drop of VerSagn blood on it to give it nourishment and another, blessed with the TehChao Tane, then called the seed to life by singing the Earth Song. With the life giving blood of the VerSagn and the song of the TehChao, the seed immediately took root. It then fell upon the MarGua Tane to water the crops until they were mature and ready to harvest.