by kubasik
"Why would he do that to you?"
"I'm sure he didn't know what to do with me. My father's actions had created suspicion, but nothing concrete. However, the family reputation had been tarnished. That's why Mordom went along with my father's wishes. Otherwise his own chances of advancement through the Theran bureaucracy would have been ruined."
"When I met him years ago, he didn't seem to be a Theran official. He still doesn't."
"He might not be. Our system of political rewards and punishments is harsh on all failures. The desperate plan you've described to me shows that he must be trying to prove that he is worthy of a place in the bureaucracy once more."
"He had to exile you for the rest of your life?"
"Guilt through association, failure through association, is very prevalent among my government. If my father's crimes ever came to light ..."
"Why didn't he kill you then?"
She paused. Quietly, she said, "I guess he couldn't bring himself to do that."
"But you can?"
"You're not trying to defend him, are you?"
I put my hands on my chest. "I practically told Death I'd personally send him back to her.
I just ... I've told you, my family situation ... I suggest that if you can avoid bringing more pain into your life, you avoid it. I'm not telling you what to do. Just suggesting you look out for it."
She glared at me, eyes narrow. Examining me all over again. She placed her hand on mine. "All right. Good advice. I still want him dead."
"Excellent," I said, stretching out on the ground. "I'll be there to back you up."
She remained sitting, and for a moment I felt bad. A part of me wished she would lie down next to me. It would be good to have her warmth again. But things had changed.
The isolation of the island had provided an ideal for romance. There was, ultimately, nothing else to do. But complications of the world made things—complicated. Her talk of revenge against her brother certainly had put neither of us in a cuddling mood. Which, when I thought of it, was a good thing.
Smiling, I rolled over and fell asleep.
A tiger woke me. Its scent invaded my nostrils, and my eyes flashed open. The beast's green eyes stared into mine. Only a foot away. "Back!" Kyrethe shouted, and I almost jumped back on her command. But she was speaking to the tiger, and it retreated a few steps. I looked up and saw her walking toward me, amused. "I'm sorry," she said, and sat down beside me. I must have still been wearing my fear, for she said, "Oh, I'm sorry,"
and touched my nose. Her casual, almost childish nature in the matter confused me. The tiger sat placidly a few feet away, licking its teeth. When the thing yawned I realized my entire head could fit into its mouth in a single bite. "You know this tiger?"
"Not well. We only met last night. But I think we'll get along over time."
I looked up at her. "You're a beastmaster adept?"
She laughed. "Very good."
As I sat up I said, "Sorry. I spent most of my life either hiding in the wilderness—
meaning I saw nobody—or working with people in cities. I haven't met many people with your talents." I realized too that my image of her was of a completely helpless woman.
The more she spoke and took action, the more I realized that she had been a helpless woman. She was no longer such.
"I thought we could use some help, eventually. She and I can get to know each other better as we travel. She'll be able to help us track Mordom."
"From what I know of your profession—I don't know how to phrase this. Being alone, without any chance of encountering an animal ..."
Her eyes became cold, as they had been the night before when she spoke of killing Mordom. "It was very difficult. A part of who I was had become cut off from life." She stood up abruptly. "We'd better get moving."
For a short while we discussed our options. Two general courses of action presented themselves. First, we could try to contact the government of Throal. They would have the forces to overwhelm Mordom's independent venture. But Throal was far away, and I suspected time was of the essence. Mordom, on the airship, had suggested that the plan he had for Neden would take weeks and weeks to complete. Well, weeks and weeks had gone by, and if there was any time left, there was precious little of it. I still did not know what Mordom had in mind for Neden, but I could anticipate that anything that involved cutting the boy up and working on him for a few months would be nightmarish in scope.
There was also the matter of my illegal activities and the Kingdom of Throal's attempts to arrest me over the years. For crimes ranging from the mutilation of my sons all the way down to petty theft, I was wanted. Sauntering into the kingdom to announce what Mordom was up to would only expose me to people who wanted me dead.
The other option was to press on alone. We were already near the Badlands, where I knew Mordom was heading. If he needed weeks of work it would be the perfect place for him to set up shop without being disturbed. For reasons of time I wanted to head straight for Mordom, and contact Throal after Neden's recovery. This was the option I put forward.
Kyrethe hadn't given it a moment's thought, really. She had no concern for Neden or the place of Throal in the mess Mordom had started. She only wanted to find her brother. She wanted a closure of blood.
"You're welcome to come with me, of course. You know these lands far better than I. I can use your help.''
"Well, I think going to Mordom is the best course of action as well."
"The only course of action."
"Be that as it may, let's get going."
We were on our way. The tiger, a female who she named Jade for the color of her eyes, walk d beside Kyrethe. Kyrethe petted her as we walked, and the huge beast would run up ahead, and then back toward us, obviously delighted by Kyrethe's company. I was slightly jealous, but happy that Kyrethe was so happy. I walked a few feet back, if only because Jade still made me very nervous.
Days and days of walking.
We reached a small village. Kyrethe waited with Jade in the jungle. Kyrethe explained that the tiger might have become too easily agitated. I could tell, though, that she also wanted to avoid being in the midst of a lot of curious people. Beastmasters are by nature a solitary lot, and her time alone on the island had probably exaggerated that. I told a few- stories, earned us some food and supplies. When we set out again the next day, I had a sword at my hip, she a dagger. We also had dried fruit for the Badlands.
After a few more days, the land, though still covered with grass, began to writhe slightly underfoot. Ahead I saw the brown, dead region that was the Badlands. A remnant of the Scourge, for whatever reason, the Badlands had never healed.
I had never entered it before. The few times I'd approached its it reminded me too much of how the Earth had looked during my youth. That had been not long after the people had begun to emerge from centuries of living in the kaers. Some things don't heal as well as we'd like them to. The soil. The soul.
A day later we entered a landscape devoid of life. Or so it seemed. The obvious life was gone. But with care you could spot big insects with heavily armored shells scurrying along, then burying themselves in the brown dirt. Birds would suddenly appear from behind a hill, rushing into the sky, then dive to the ground once more, becoming hidden from view. A few bent and twisted trees and some ugly shrubs were the vegetation. But nothing seemed permanent, as if it belonged.
And, in fact, nothing was. Even as we made our way along a dry gully, I saw the sides of the gully shift position. The very direction in which we traveled changed because the land itself moved. This was the terror of the Badlands. Not only was it huge—about four hundred by seven hundred miles—but you could not depend on the landmarks. Slowly but surely the land moved. Jade walked more warily now. Her steps were no longer certain, and it seemed that she did not trust her claws and weight to protect her in such a place.
We had decided that once we'd entered the Badlands, Kyrethe would borrow Jade's sense of smell. That ability see
med more than strange to me. But beastmaster adepts could do it, and it would certainly help us. Jade was loyal to Kyrethe now, and had learned a few rudimentary commands. I learned however, that because beasts have no language, they cannot be spoken to, even if bonded with a beastmaster.
Jade and Kyrethe faced each other, and Kyrethe simply touched the tiger's nose.
When she stood she seemed startled. "This place is terrible," she said. I could only nod. It was obvious that she had perceived the truth of the place in a way I could not. Jade seemed disoriented as well, and looked to Kyrethe for guidance. Kyrethe lifted her nose in the air, sniffed—a comic effect, actually—and said, "Nothing. If there are people here?
I don't smell them yet."
"It could take us days—weeks—to find him."
"Let's keep moving then." And she was off. Whether I was there or not, she would keep moving. As we trudged on through the sliding stones and shifting gullies, my jealousy returned. Strangely, I was jealous not of someone else, but of her. She was complete with herself. This feeling lingered until I remembered her history. She had stood up to her father and her brother. Had suffered terrible torture and punishment in order to declare what she believed was true. Of course she was complete. The fact that she had survived her exile clearly demonstrated that she was complete. If she hadn't been complete, she would not have survived, and I would never have met her. If she wasn't complete, I would not have laughed the way I laughed with her, made love with her the way I did.
That we were no longer trapped on an isolated island with nothing better to do had not changed her. It did not even mean I was completely out of her heart. But the circumstances were different. What her concerns were— before me, now her brother—
had changed. I could either accept that or drive myself back into bitter loneliness.
I knew the bitter loneliness all too well. Acceptance seemed an approach still full of novel possibilities, and I decided to try it.
We did, in fact, spend days searching. Twice we were attacked by Horrors waiting for prey. The fights were fast—we won both. But the creatures—things with tentacles and silver teeth—left me wounded and aching.
The dry earth seemed somehow to soak up moisture from my body. The land shifted with the sun, which made it beat on us mercilessly, without hope of finding a patch of shade.
The place was warmer than any other I'd seen in Barsaive. An awful emotional irritant began to work its way into my spirit. I thought at first it was the oppressive environment.
But no. I think, though I cannot be certain, that the land itself held poison for the soul.
We were into our second week of exploration, conserving our rations, discussing whether to turn back and replenish our food, when we finally stumbled over a clue to Neden's whereabouts.
2
Kyrethe raised her hand. Both Jade and I stopped. "Something near. Mountain dwellers.
Dwarfs." She spoke softly, pointing west. Now I raised one hand, gesturing her to wait.
With limping leg I started off toward where she'd pointed. Soon I topped a gully, crawling up on my stomach. The ground under my fingers felt warm. Smelled of things recently dead.
Several hundred yards away walked a group of dwarfs, about a dozen, with a few humans and elves. Had King Varulus learned of the plan—were these his agents come to rescue Neden? They wore armor, the dwarfs, but I did not see the red and gold standard of Throal. Perhaps they were lost, having wandered into my narrative by accident.
The effort I had just made in rationalizing why the dwarfs might be from Throal but did not look like it surprised me. A year earlier the quest to save a little boy from the hands of an evil magician would have sent me racing to the task. Redemption at last! If only I could prove myself with one bold stroke. Saving a child. What more proof would I need to show myself worthy of becoming, once more, a member of my people? Deserving love. Having a place.
But now, since my death, the need to prove anything was rapidly losing importance. If Throalic warriors were about, then they could handle the situation. I had other matters to attend to. Maybe seeing my boys. My wife. Or starting a new life with Kyrethe. Who knew? But taking action for the sole purpose of reclaiming my past—how could such a thing even be possible?
Back down into the gully I slid, the rumination still churning in my thoughts as I returned to Kyrethe. Of course, Kyrethe would go after Mordom, no matter what. Again I thought of how direct and simple things had been at the tower. What I had once seen as a prison now seemed the place where in all my life I'd been most free. The world itself demanded attention in so many ways. The threads of other lives, whether I wanted them to or not, wove themselves into the pattern of my life. There seemed no escaping it.
NO, there was a way. To retreat once again to my home in the jungle. To turn my back on all people once more. To seek the solitude I had so carefully forged for myself. To once more find companionship with no one and nothing but the stars above.
I smiled at the thought. That was impossible now. The Universe had teased me out of my loneliness with Kyrethe's presence, and there was no going back. More to the point, I simply liked being alive too much to return to my former loneliness. I wanted to interact with other people, for no other reason than to do it.
And so, as I walked up to Kyrethe, I realized why I wanted to pursue Neden. Not to put myself in the good graces of my fellow name-givers, which was an action born of vanity.
But because I wanted to be involved. Running toward and away from each other, helping each other, laughing and crying with each other. That's what we did.
No, the metaphor is off. It wasn't that we were all threads forming a huge tapestry of life.
We are all the stars of the sky reflected on earth. But instead of the static pattern I'd so desperately tried to build for myself, we are in constant motion. There is nothing to be known, nothing to be counted on. Our interactions with each other create a mess. One either embraces the mess, or one hides from the truth behind an elaborate framework of lies. How many years had I spent studying the stars? And how much more had I learned about myself and my fate by throwing myself into the mess?
I told Kyrethe what I had seen. We agreed we would follow the group, seeing if they were involved with Mordom. Maybe they would lead us to him. If not, if they were headed out of the Badlands, we would form a new plan then. Still using Kyrethe's borrowed sense of smell, we followed the group from a distance. We lost the trail every so often as the wind shifted, but through the next two days we succeeded in staying with them.
On the second day, they stopped and made a large camp, replete with tents showing the banner of Throal. With confirmation that they were from Throal, I thought we would be safe in approaching them. But Kyrethe said, "Didn't you tell me that this king of Throal had sent his son away because his own home was not safe?" When I nodded, she said,
"Then what makes you think that anyone from Throal is your ally?"
I had not thought about it that way, though I should have. It occurred to me that Kyrethe, who was a Theran, still had her people's propensity to see the political ramifications of any situation the way most of us breathe. Though she'd been far from such intrigues since the age of twenty, her instincts were so sharply honed that she could still pick up trouble from third-hand sources. I told her I needed to find out either way. She agreed that we required more information.
That night, with their bright orange campfire as our guide, Kyrethe, Jade, and I moved up quietly, getting close enough for me to hear the murmur of voices. A single word shouted in laughter. Dwarf guards stationed at the edge of the perimeter kept a vigilant, somber eye. And around a large fire a trio of dwarfs sat quietly speaking to one another.
"I'm going to take Jade's sense of hearing and move up closer," Kyrethe said.
“I've got the skills to get closer," I said. "It would make more sense for me to do it."
"You'll have to get even closer than I have to."
She had a point
, and I agreed to wait behind. She meditated for a few moments, then placed her hands on Jade's large head. Ever so gently she ran her fingers through the tiger's fur, then touched her ears. The tiger panted lightly, pleased.
When Kyrethe turned to go, I touched her hand. We'd had little contact of kindness over the past few days. The nature of the Badlands had made us quiet and irritable. "Kyrethe,"
I said, "I just wanted to tell you that, of all the women I have ever met, you are the most ridiculously driven." I had meant to say something appropriately meaningful and sentimental. But I think, by speaking the truth, I fared much better. She smiled at my words, suppressed a laugh. She extended a hand and took one of mine. Her skin, worn and old, felt wonderful. A woman worth knowing.
She said, "And you the most confused. But let me tell you something. All the men in my life have known exactly what they wanted to do, exactly how they wanted to live. They knew what was right, and they did it. A passionately Theran trait. And let me also tell you, I used to think that was wonderful. During my years of isolation I had time to think about that, though. A touch of uncertanty in my father or Mordom would have made my life a great deal easier. Thank you for showing me the other side of life." She tugged on my hand, pulling me close. We kissed. Passionately. Eventually Jade rolled onto her back and pressed her head against mine, trying to remove me from her mistress' attention.
