by Alon Shalev
“Here and there,” Mhari replied. “I am privileged to have studied with the Markwin.”
“The Elves of the West!” Ilana exclaimed. “They exist?”
“I thought they were just a myth,” Seanchai added.
Mhari nodded. “All things as they are, it is probably better that way. But no, they exist outside of Odessiya, far away from all this.”
“Then why don’t they come to our aid?” Ilana snapped. The edge in her voice reminded Seanchai of how tough life must had been in Uncle’s band.
“They live a very different life than you; a very different existence. It’s best you focus on your own reality for now.”
Ilana furrowed her brow and rose to talk with Shayth, who lay on his bedding, staring up at the sky, with his hands behind his head. Seanchai noticed that she walked rather gingerly.
“Don’t worry,” Mhari said. “I can see there’s much between you. Her wound is not as deep as I first thought. Her exhaustion just amplified the effects. She’ll be fit to leave the morning after tomorrow.”
“Leave?”
“Yes, they both will–to rescue your other friend and then return here if they’re successful.”
“I should go with them,” Seanchai grumbled. “I need to help them.”
Mhari laughed. “That’s admirable, but rather short-sighted, given that all their efforts so far have been to bring you here. It’s good that they leave. You will better focus on your lessons.”
Tense silence followed as Seanchai scuffed the dust with his feet. The old woman leaned forward and spoke sincerely.
“Work hard with me, Seanchai, and I will not keep you here long. It seems that we do not possess the luxury of time.”
Seanchai nodded and then looked up. “Let’s begin.”
Mhari smiled. “We will begin when they leave. For now, you can wash the dishes. Then, over the next two days, we’ll collect food and wood so that we don’t need to break for such tasks when we are alone.”
Seanchai cocked his head, sensing she was leaving something out.
“The soldiers are not that smart, but their officers are.” Mhari relented. “They’ll be back, and we may find it difficult to wander around at times. We may even have to move on. This has begun to feel like a home for me–always a mistake for our kind.”
“Our kind?”
Mhari sighed. “Please, Seanchai, take a bowl of oats to the young man, and then clear up breakfast.”
Seanchai picked up a bowl and spoon. Then he looked across at the old woman.
“What does your name mean?”
“Your people gave me my name. In the elf tongue, Mhari means one who must sacrifice.”
Though they hadn’t truly started lessons yet, Seanchai was already learning. Mhari taught him the different herbs they found, to read tracks, and to move quietly in the rocky terrain. They foraged for mushrooms, roots, nuts and fruit, and collected more wood.
Shayth and Ilana spent most of the next two days resting and planning their route. Mhari drew a map in the sand, explaining different routes the soldiers might have taken. She also had a constant brew of the herbal drink on hand for Ilana.
“You must do everything you can to catch up and rescue him before they reach the garrison at Galbrieth,” Mhari said over supper the following night. “You’ve lost some time by recovering here, but you could make up the distance.”
“Why?” Seanchai’s voice became tense whenever they discussed Ilana and Shayth going to rescue Rhoddan. “What makes you think they can catch up?”
“Life in the garrison is very structured and rigid. Once they reach the valley, here,” she pointed to her map with a stick, “they’ll encounter inns, ale, and women. They’re confident that they aren’t being followed, so why rush? Also, their horses are tired. It’ll be an excuse to let them rest and recover.
“However, once they reach Galbrieth, I’m not sure what they’ll do with your friend. After they have extracted all the information they can from him, they could him enslave or execute him.”
“There is something else to consider,” Shayth spoke, though his mouth was full and they had to wait until he swallowed his food before he continued. “Rhoddan might let them think that he’s Seanchai–he’s done it before. It would draw their attention away from Seanchai and might keep Rhoddan alive longer.”
“That would be admirable and brave,” Mhari replied, “but it won’t buy him too much time and they’ll make him suffer for his deceit if they find out he’s not who he says. On the other hand, there’s a good chance they won’t execute him if he can be used to lure Seanchai to Galbrieth.”
They absorbed this in silence, each focusing on his or her own plate. Then when she had finished her food, Ilana looked at Shayth.
“Are you packed?”
“Yes. Have you decided on the route?”
Ilana pointed to the straightest line on the ground map. “The fastest. We can double back if need be. I don’t fancy our chances once they have Rhoddan inside the garrison.”
Shayth nodded.
“I should come with you,” Seanchai pleaded.
“I’m turning in,” Ilana said, straining to get up. “We leave at first light.”
Seanchai’s voice broke as he said her name.
Ilana turned to him with steely determination. “Study hard and don’t argue. Be ready when the three of us return. That is when it will really begin.”
Seanchai blinked. He couldn’t think that far ahead–couldn’t imagine being here without his friends. But more than that, he feared for Ilana, knowing that she was leaving him and heading into great danger and he could never see her again or know how they were faring. He stared intensely into the fire. He would not say or do anything stupid.
Twenty-Two
When Seanchai woke the following morning, Shayth and Ilana were already checking their horses’ bridles. Seanchai shook himself alert and quickly dressed.
He walked over to Shayth. “I appreciate you doing this,” he said, and then felt foolish. He opened his mouth to continue but nothing came out until he glanced at Ilana talking with Mhari by the maps.
“Um,” Seanchai cleared his throat. “Look after her.” He ducked his head.
Shayth grinned broadly and put his hand on Seanchai’s forearm. “Try not to think of her, or Rhoddan. The best way to help will be for you to be ready when we return, and to be the best you can.”
Seanchai waited for Ilana next to Night, stroking her mane absentmindedly. Ilana finished her conversation with Mhari and put a scroll into a pocket of her saddle. Then she moved closer to Seanchai.
“Don’t look so worried,” she said. “We’ll find Rhoddan, I promise.”
“It’s–”
“I know what he means to you. We won’t rest until we free him.”
Seanchai swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes,” he said looking at his feet. “And you…you be careful too. You…”
Ilana raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“You know,” he said, shuffling the dust beneath his feet.
“Know what?” she arched the other eyebrow.
“Well, you won’t be able to rescue him if you get caught or hurt.”
“Right.”
“And…”
“And?” Ilana had put her hands on her hips, a bad sign, Seanchai knew.
“And I’ve kind of grown fond of…of Shayth.”
“Right, Shayth.” She moved closer to him and softly touched his cheek. “Anything else?”
He looked into her eyes. “You know,” he could feel the tips of his pointed ears burning.
“Yes, I do.” And suddenly she pulled him tight to her. “You know, too, right?” she whispered in his ear.
“Yes, I do,” he replied and they hugged each other until Mhari loudly cleared her throat and reluctantly they parted.
After Shayth and Ilana had left, Mhari put a hand on Seanchai’s shoulder and said, “Come, we have a lot to cover. It’s best that we plung
e straight in. I don’t expect you to forget them. That would be disingenuous. But you will need to focus entirely on what I’m going to teach you.”
They filled water canteens, gathered their weapons and set out on foot up a steep, narrow path. When they reached the peak, Seanchai slumped heavily on the ground next to his teacher, panting. Mhari sat waiting on a smooth rock, one leg held close to her chest. Her white, shiny hair was tied back, but a few strands had come loose and danced in the wind.
When he had his breath under control, Seanchai pulled out his water skin and drank enthusiastically. Apparently, in the silence that surrounded them, his gulps were noisy and he realized that Mhari was glaring at him.
“Sorry,” Seanchai said, feeling even more miserable.
“Look around you. You can see for many miles. Perhaps more lands than you will ever visit, if you are lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“Yes. Your talents will be in great demand. You will be called to visit many lands.”
“What am I, Mhari?”
“You are an elf, my student. Don’t forget that. Whatever else you may be, whatever else you may become, you are first and foremost an elf. Now, tell me what you have done; how your uniqueness has expressed itself.”
Seanchai told her about scrying for patrols with Rhoddan, about rescuing Rhoddan when they were ambushed on the plains, and about the fight on the cliff. He recounted how he had used energy to push the men who were attacking Mainch over the edge, and also the time that he tried to wield the power and nothing happened. He was going to continue, but stopped himself.
“What is it?” the old woman asked.
“It’s nothing, kind of silly.”
Mhari looked him in the eye. “I have trained others before you. They went through long apprenticeships, questions and answers, tests and quests. I prided myself on prodding them to find answers from within or through the learning experience.
“But you and I don’t have time for that now. I’ll teach you all I can as quickly as I can. I’ll give you exercises and you will discover your own results through your daily practice long after we have gone our separate ways.
“You have no time to hold things back from me, Seanchai. Now tell me what is on your mind.”
Seanchai stared out over the land, absorbing the view. “I’m changing, Mhari. I’m not the elf I was when I fled my village. I feel something happening inside. One minute I can speak with authority and clarity, and the next I’m back to being the self-conscious calhei, in way over his head–the teenager that I really am. And it makes me feel alone and adrift.”
Mhari nodded and tapped her forehead. “What do you feel up here on the mountaintop? Close your eyes and tell me whatever comes into your head. Don’t stop to analyze it.”
Seanchai breathed deeply to focus. “The wind. I feel the wind and the air. It’s very quiet up here and yet very…powerful. Being so high up gives perspective, but also shows how small we really are. And yet, everything fits. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes,” his master replied. “It makes sense because it’s what you feel. There’s no right or wrong answer. But let me ask one thing: Do you feel the silence?” When Seanchai nodded, she continued. “Seek out the silence, even in the darkest times. There is strength in it and it will nurture you.
“Now, listen carefully, for on this everything I teach you will be based. The world is made up of five sources of energy, of power: air, water, earth, fire, and wood. You will learn each of them individually, but what binds them is a universal energy. It flows through the world, its elements, and through us. Does this make any sense?”
Seanchai nodded. “Ilana taught me ryku.”
Mhari was pleased. “And did you feel healing energy coming from your hands?”
“Yes I did.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. You must learn to harness this energy–to store it inside your body–and wield it for healing or violence.”
“When you smashed the soldier and horse into the rock,” Seanchai asked, “were you using this energy then?”
“Yes, I was.”
Mhari watched her new apprentice digest what she was telling him. When he didn’t speak, she quizzed him.
“You are shaking your head as you think. I find that interesting. Tell me what’s bouncing around in there?”
“I can’t get used to the killing,” Seanchai said at last. “I hate taking someone’s life. It feels so…” he struggled to find the right words, “so wrong.”
“That’s good,” Mhari replied. “You should never be comfortable with violence. It is a last resort, for times when good can be served in no other way. It’s also often a failing of sorts. The art is to change someone’s harmful actions without harming them, or even better, to help them make that change themselves.”
“But I will have to kill again won’t I?”
“Yes, Seanchai. I believe you will, and many times, I’m afraid.”
Seanchai stood up and stretched. “You said there were five elements?”
“Yes.”
“I think you’re wrong. I think there are six.”
“What is the sixth?” Mhari asked.
“Love. Love for your friends, love for the land, and love for one special person.”
Seanchai was aware that Mhari was watching him, but he let the tears flow anyway.
Twenty-Three
A shimmering haze of cool mist hovered over the water as Mhari and Seanchai walked to the lake. An early morning breeze whipped through their clothes and Seanchai pulled his cloak tighter around him. Despite the cold, he enjoyed the view.
Seanchai carried a small pack that held what he hope were the necessary items to brew some hot tea. As they continued along the water’s edge, Mhari pointed out tracks of different animals and explained how to discern how long ago they had been made.
Abruptly, she rapped Seanchai sharply on the back of the head.
“Ouch! What was that for?” the young elf said, rubbing his head.
“We aren’t out on a stroll. Everything we do is a lesson. You just passed the tracks of two horses and didn’t even stop to check them.”
They walked back until Seanchai found the tracks, which he couldn’t deny were very clear.
“Are they your friend’s mountain horses?”
“No,” said Seanchai, bending down. “The horses who left these are bigger and heavier. These are cavalry horses, but the tracks are old. There are layers of dust and sand covering them.”
“Good,” his master said. “But if there was a sentry checkpoint twenty paces ahead of you, you might have walked straight into them. You must put your friends out of your mind and focus on being in the present. There’s no time to dwell on that which you cannot influence.”
They passed by an old tree, about fifty feet high, but almost entirely bare of leaves and covered in peeling bark.
“It’s dying,” Seanchai said sadly.
“No,” Mhari replied. “Do not assume too much just from appearance. The tree struggles to survive out here. This is not the lush forest you grew up in. We’re still a few months from the rainy season. The tree is almost sleeping, living off water tapped from deep below. It’s in hibernation with the great mountain bears. In the spring when the rain comes and the river swells, the tree will show off its leaves and berries.”
“Impressive.”
“And you can learn from it. The tree focuses on its survival. It stores resources, conserves energy. Come stand by the tree. I want to teach you the fundamental exercises that you will need to master. They are very simple and yet very complex. Try and do exactly as I do.”
The old woman stood in the shade of the tree, her legs shoulder-width apart and her hands at her sides. Her breathing was deep and slow and her eyes were closed. Seanchai copied her, though he kept adjusting his stance to find comfort. Every few moments he opened one eye to peek and see if his teacher was doing anything different. She wasn’t. The human was as still as the tree. Aft
er a while Seanchai got frustrated. He cleared his throat, prompting Mhari to open her eyes.
“Yes?”
“What are we doing?”
“Standing.”
“Standing?”
“Standing,” she replied, “like the tree.”
“Okay,” said Seanchai, determined not to let the old woman get under his skin. “Let’s stand still.”
“Stand still, and achieve everything.”
“What? What are we achieving?”
“What is the tree achieving?”
“Survival? Existence?”
“Yes, and that is no easy feat out here. It is gathering and storing energy. You must do the same.”
“By just standing.”
“No! Not by just standing. By standing in a way that opens up your energy channels. Just standing! Why must my final student have to be just you?”
Seanchai wasn’t sure Mhari was joking so he appreciated having his eyes shut.
The old woman walked over to him. “Come, plant your legs shoulder width apart. Good. Balance your weight on the soles of both feet, and keep them flat on the ground. Rock backward and forward a bit. Good. Now, bend your knees, but do not focus on the knees. Focus on sinking into the ground. Let your roots dig down, like the tree. Very good.
“Now, straighten the bottom of your spine. Curl your tailbone in like this.” She put one hand at the base of Seanchai’s spine, pushing gently, while her other hand constrained his stomach. “Good. Now, shoulders relaxed and down.
“Imagine small, round rocks under your armpits. Your arms should slightly arc at the shoulder, but drop freely by your sides. Barely curl your fingers to relax the muscles. Yes, good,” she said as she adjusted Seanchai’s stance. “Pull your chin in and extend the top of your spine. Imagine there’s a piece of string attached to the crown of your head and it is gently pulling your head up straight.”
