Dreams and Shadows (The Aylosian Chronicles Book 1) (15 page)

He silently debated what he should say, but finally decided that with all she had done for him, he should trust her with the truth. “It’s a variation on the name of a mythical god of thunder from my world,” he explained. “And thunder and lightning has been on my mind since a dream I had… well, probably about a week ago now.”

Aneh remained attentive and so he took a breath before continuing, “It was a really strange dream – the strongest one I’ve ever had, and there are a lot of things from it that I haven’t been able to forget.”

They still had a little way to travel, so he related what he considered were the most important parts of the dream. He knew that many elements she would probably not understand – he had seen no clocks in this world, and didn’t know whether things like Churches existed – but he left nothing significant out. She was paying close attention throughout, but Michael thought he detected an increase in her breathing as he first described the Woodland Star, and then the sword with the golden handle.

When he finished, she studied his face closely, and then simply said, “Thank you for telling me.”

They had now reached as far as the Shosa were willing to take them, and so they dismounted and wished their furry guardians well by ruffling their neck furs, watching them as they turned and bounded into the forest. They were only just beyond the view of the Stay, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon.

As they entered the camp, Aneh took him to the Stay’s only other Healing Weaver, Felar, who Aneh said had a much stronger Weaving. They eventually found the white-haired man in discussion with a group of men and women, but on seeing Michael’s limp he quickly left, taking them to his tent.

“I know your Weaving is remarkably strong for one so young,” he said to Aneh as Michael lay down where he had been directed. “How is it that you were not able to fully heal him? Distracted by his good looks, perhaps?”

The disappointment that had been absent from her face for many hours now returned again, though mingled with a blush, as she replied, “It was from the claw of a Chet’tu, and my Shosa was also wounded and needed my attention.”

Felar froze when she had said the name of the creature. “Chet’tu. You are certain?”

After she nodded, he spoke again, “Then your Weaving is powerful indeed, to save both this man and your Shosa.”

Aneh took heart at his words, visibly appreciating the compliment from the older man as he continued, “While I see whether there is more that I can do for his ankle, you must inform the Lora. The Chet’tu appearing close to the Stay is a threat to us all. Go quickly.”

Michael was startled to feel a thrill course through his body as she gently touched his hand to reassure him before departing as instructed.

He didn’t know what to expect from Felar. The only other time the Weaving had been used on him was when he had been unconscious earlier in the day. And so he watched closely as Felar closed his eyes and concentrated. At first, he felt nothing, but then there were tingling sensations that alternated with short, sharp stabs of pain that made him wince. After a short while, the episodes of pain decreased both in frequency and intensity, the prickles in his ankle becoming more itch-like.

Eventually the sensations ceased altogether, and Felar opened his eyes. “You are very lucky that Aneh has such a strong Weaving,” he said. “I could detect no sign of the venom, something only a Master Weaver would usually only be able to achieve. For her to achieve this with you and also with her Shosa… well, that is remarkable.”

They said little else, Felar explaining that the damage to his ankle was largely healed, but that he should still not do anything strenuous on it for a few days. Felar then pottered about his tent while they awaited Aneh’s return.

She took longer than he expected, and when she appeared through the tent flap there was an urgency in her expression. “The Lora is being gathered. You must come.”

As Michael stood, he realised he could no longer feel any pain in his ankle, but Felar called as they left, “Remember, do not run! Your ankle still requires rest!”

They heeded his advice not to run, but their walk was brisk, and it wasn’t long before they reached the tent Michael had entered on his first day in this land. Aneh’s mother was awaiting them, and quickly ushered them both in. On his previous visit, Michael had been too overwhelmed to study the faces of any but Arevu and Aneh’s mother; now he looked at the others. He had previously thought there were about ten people in total within the Lora, and as he counted now, he realised that there were eleven, including Arevu: six women and five men. Though they varied in age, none were younger than about forty.

To his surprise, Lohka spoke first, instructing her daughter to relate their tale by the river’s edge. Aneh spoke carefully, explaining their purpose for first going to the forest and then to the river. At her first mention of Chet’tu, several members of the Lora visibly stiffened, and some cast their gazes at Michael rather than Aneh, their stares accusing him of the danger which had threatened one of their own, and potentially now them all.

When she had finished, Arevu addressed the Lora, “Though we know Aneh to be a loyal and trustworthy member of our Stay, we will follow our customs. Sooth Weaver, has she declared the truth?”

“She has declared only truth, according to her knowledge,” came the formal reply.

Arevu then turned to Michael, her look grave. “Not in more than a generation have Chet’tu appeared near us.” She paused, seeming to expect a response from him, continuing only when none came, “Tell me, Michael, do you believe it is a coincidence that such peril comes to our doors and threatens our wellbeing so soon after your strange arrival amongst us?”

Michael felt the question had been intended as an accusatory one and could have been offended by it, but he remembered the look in the Chet’tu’s eyes – the knowledge that came to him that it was he who was the target. He had assumed that the uncertainty he carried with him in his strange surroundings had been visible to the evil beast; that it had focussed on him because it had sensed he was the weaker of them. But the question caused him to rethink. Had he been the reason they had come at all? Was he putting these people in danger by his mere presence? But he couldn’t comprehend how that could be the case.

“I don’t understand,” he finally said. “I don’t know how I came to this land. If there is a reason for me being here, I don’t know it. Why would they be after me? If they’re here because of me, then I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about it.”

“You lie!” The words came suddenly from a man with a long grey beard that hid the creases across his face. As Michael looked to him, he saw anger in his blue eyes.

But a rebuttal came swiftly from Lohka, “He does not. He speaks the truth as he knows it.”

“Then you are deceived!” he retorted at the Sooth Weaver, the anger intensifying. “It is written that there was once a man whose Weaving was deception. How else can we explain the evil he brings upon us?”

Lohka’s voice remained calm, though Michael thought he detected a hint of anger in it, “I am
not
deceived. I am Sooth Weaver, and I declare it. Do you deny my testimony, Berah?”

A tension filled the ensuing silence, Lohka and Berah staring at each other. Eventually Arevu spoke, breaking the unpleasant spell, “Speak, Berah. Do you deny the Sooth Weaver’s testimony?”

At the challenge from the Hafashal, Berah’s face softened, “I do not. But she would not know if she had been deceived. Considering events, we must be alive to the possibility that even with our Sooth Weaver, the boy’s words cannot be trusted. We know the Guardian plots against us.”

Another voice spoke up, from another man, this one perhaps in his fifties and with a shorter beard, “Can you hear yourself Berah? Our Lora is built on unity. If we were to heed your advice, it would divide us, and all that we are would be at risk of falling. Despite the dangers, we must trust the words of the Sooth Weaver.”

Voices from all sides then came forth, one after the other. They respected each other’s turn to speak, never talking over one another, but Michael saw that they were evenly split between those who took Lohka’s testimony at face value, and those who remained suspicious – or even accusing – of him.

Michael couldn’t tell which side Arevu supported, until she finally spoke, “How can you be certain, Lohka? How can you be sure that his own Weaving isn’t that of deception? It is this question which divides our unity, and is the one we must consider. Until we have the answer to that, given all that has happened we must consider him dangerous.”

She stopped and waited for Lohka to respond, all eyes in the room now looking at Aneh’s mother. Only the previous evening she had said to him,
There are… other things, that have contributed to my understanding of you,
but she had not elaborated on that and he wondered if she now would.

It seemed she was about to say something when Aneh spoke up, all eyes turning to her in surprise as she did so. “A Shosa has claimed him,” she proclaimed.

There were looks of shock on the faces of all in the room now. Michael couldn’t tell whether her mother had added pride to that of her own surprised appearance, as her daughter had been willing to speak uninvited, or whether it was instead the sight of disappointment he saw, that she had voiced herself. But she quietly said, “You did not reveal this to me before,” then added for the benefit of the Lora, “though she speaks the truth.”

“I am sorry, mother,” Aneh replied, glancing at the floor, “There was so much to tell you, and of all else that had happened, such a wondrous thing as the Shosa seemed to be of lesser relevance.”

“Tell us,” Arevu said.

Aneh related the events after the attack, when Peran had remained in the fields until Michael’s revival, and then deliberately approached him, placing the top of his head against Michael’s chest.

Lohka again confirmed the truth of what her daughter had said, and there followed a period of silence as all members of the Lora considered the new revelation.
 

It was ultimately Arevu who again spoke, “The actions of the Shosa are added to the testimony of our Sooth Weaver. There will be no further doubt regarding the man called Michael. I have sensed that all present have had their doubts sufficiently removed, and I therefore declare as Hafashal of the Lora that he is to be treated as a member of our Waylet, and given all of the succour and trust that such implies.”

There were serious looks amongst the Lora, especially from Berah, but all nodded in agreement, before Arevu continued, “Now that he is considered one of us, we must learn why the Chet’tu seek him harm, and do all within our power to guard him as we would any other within the Waylet. We will all ponder what has been revealed and gather on the morrow where we will discuss it further.”

At that, the meeting ended, and Lohka ushered Michael and Aneh from the tent, the three of them beginning the walk back to their family dwelling. Partway there, Lohka changed her mind, and suggested that they find a place a short way from the camp where they could talk in private, and they steered in the direction of the river.

By now it was dark, but the clouds in the sky occluded any light from the moon or stars, so they didn’t walk all the way to the watercourse, stopping instead just out of earshot, where some light from the Stay still extended to them.

Aneh’s mother first looked at her daughter. “It was a courageous thing to do in the Lora, Aneh,” she said.

“I am sorry if my speaking was shameful, mother,” she replied.

In the faint light, Michael thought he could see a smile on Lohka’s face as she gently responded, “It was not shameful Aneh but courageous. You risked much by speaking as you did. At times in our lives, we are all forced to risk much if we are to be true to that which we hold dear.”

Aneh simply nodded in acknowledgement of her mother’s praise. Lohka then turned to face Michael. “I regret asking you this, Michael. Truly. It is a very personal thing which I request, and I believe it may not be easy for you to relate, but I must ask you of your dream.”

Of all of the things he thought she might say, this was perhaps one of the last he had expected. Why did she want to know about his dream? How did she know about it at all? He looked at Aneh, but Lohka spoke again quickly. “Aneh did not reveal the contents of your discussion. She has not broken your confidence,” she said, defending her daughter. “I am sorry that I cannot explain more. I cannot force you, and would not if I could, but it is important that I know of it.”

The dream was never far from his thoughts, but having related it already once that day, it was still fresh in his mind. After a pause he began again, telling it much as he had done to Aneh during their ride back to the Stay. It had been easier relating it to Aneh; they had become friends and he didn’t mind sharing some of his personal feelings to her, but conversing of the same things to her mother… That was a different matter, though he forced his way through it.

“I don’t know what any of it means,” he finished. “Can I ask,” he prodded, “why is it so important that you know about it?”

As he looked at Lohka, he thought he could just make out a wetness around her eyes, visible only by the faint light that shone from the Stay, as she replied, “Because it was not just a dream, Michael. You do not know its meaning, and I must be honest and say that neither do I, but I will tell you with certainty that it is important. It is meaningful.”

He had felt that the dream had been important from the moment he had awoken from it, and her words confirmed that. He was suddenly hopeful, and asked, “I’ve been especially thinking about that Woodland Star. Do you know what it is? Maybe it’s from this land?”

“No. Sadly, I do not know its meaning,” she replied, “But I believe that the time will come when we do.”

He was disappointed that none of his questions had been answered, but for some reason didn’t regret having shared his dream again. Lohka issued a final warning to Michael not to share it with anyone else, not even to the Lora, and then they returned to the Stay together to share an evening meal with the rest of their family.