[Lanen Kaelar 01] - Song in the Silence (21 page)

I had hoped to avoid invoking my
authority with so old a friend, but I could see no other choice. I bespoke him.

“If that will not reach thee,
Hadretikantishikrar, I charge thee to honour my wishes by thy vow of fealty to
the King.”

The use of his full true name shocked
him—as well it might—and it had the desired effect. He stared at me in hurt
surprise. I gazed back at him, standing in the formal Attitude of Kingship,
wings fully extended, and my soulgem gleamed in the early sun as I stood in my
power.

He bowed to me formally, gathered
himself and began the Discipline. I did the same. As we took ourselves through
its measured paces I spoke.

“I would not have you judge this
child of the Gedri without knowledge, Shikrar my friend. I know the fear you
speak of, better now than ever before, I assure you. Even if my distrust had
not been awakened by my own actions, yours would have shocked me to
awareness.”

Shikrar finished the Discipline. When
he opened his eyes the deep anger was gone; what was left more closely resembled
regret.

“What would you, my Lord
King?”

I had asked for it, but still it
stung. Shikrar had been the friend of my heart for many a long year. I had
hoped my reminder would shock him out of his anger, no more. Well, he would
thaw in time.

“I would have you accompany me
this evening, when I will meet again with the child of the Gedri,” I
replied. “I would ask you not to harm her unless she breaks one of our
laws.”

“Do you not break those same
laws, Lord King, when you call out to this—this Gedrishakrim?”

“You bespoke me, Shikrar,”
I replied sternly. I would not let his formality wound me, nor allow myself to
defer to our friendship. There was too much surrounding this meeting for that.
“You well know that she called to me, not I to her, and that the law
refers on their side simply to crossing the Boundary. As for my breaking of
our laws—I ask you to let me carry that burden alone for now. We might find
between us, you and I, that it is the law that is at fault.”

Shikrar did not reply.

“I will meet you at the watch
post on the Boundary shortly before the middle night,” I told him, then in
farewell said what we always said to the Guardian. The words came hard past my
tongue.

“Watch well, lest we find a
demon in our midst.”

I did not need deep understanding to
know that he was thinking it more than usually likely, and that mine would be
the burden of having allowed it to come in. It was, after all, just possible
that the little one—no, use her name, that Lanen Kaelar was a pawn in some
greater game, not herself corrupt but allowing corruption to gain entry.

It was possible.

But the moment I left Shikrar I felt
the deep joy of our meeting seeping through my anger and disappointment, and I
could not believe that evil lurked near her.

It is unfortunate but true that the
proof that there are rocks in the field is usually the fact that we have just
hit them with the plough.

Lanen

I don’t know how I managed to sleep
at all that night. Every time I closed my eyes I would see that silver face so
close to mine, the eyes vulnerable mere inches from me, hear that voice that
sang in my mind, breathe in the wild, strange smell of him, and open my eyes to
let out the tears of wonder.

I have discovered in the long years
that I have been blessed above many others; for when I took the chance to
follow my dream, I not only found what I sought in the deep shadow of trees
beneath the moon—I was given the gift of not finding what I had hoped for. What
I found surpassed my longing, my desire, my very imagination, beyond the power
of my limping words to tell.

I was in a daze all the next day as I
gathered lansip leaves with the rest, hardly speaking, not eating at all—but
inside that daze I was gloriously alive. I heard every note of every bird’s
song, every rustle of wind in the lingering leaves high on the trees; I smelled
the different woods thrown on the fires, the heady scent of lansip all around
me, even the subtle hint of spice and healthy autumn rot below all. I felt the
smallest twigs crackle beneath my boots, and below that and around, the brown
autumn grass bent and broke as I passed: The misty rain that came up in the
early afternoon sparked cold on my cheeks. I opened my mouth like a child and
sipped at the rain, and I could not remember a sweeter drink. The leaves as I
gathered them in bundles were soft on my hands, harsh the raw canvas bags we
stuffed them in, hempen rape rough against my palms as I tied the bags shut. I
was like a child indeed, discovering the world for the first time, seeing all
things new in this strange, frightening clarity, and in each moment and each
sensation I came back to the wonder of the Dragon.

Kordeshkistriakor.

I had been afraid I would not be able
to remember it, so long, so strange—yet as I came away from our meeting it rang
in me like a wondrous bell.

I found, though, that the human mind
can only hear a little exaltation. By midafternoon I was dropping on my feet,
and I had to return to the tent and sleep while the others worked. Luckily I
was not alone. It seems that the pattern among the Harvesters was to gather
leaves until you were about to drop, then go back to camp, eat, sleep as little
as possible, and back to it. I had heard people coming and going all night as I
lay and tried to sleep, and all morning they came and went, no rhyme or reason.
My comings and goings went unnoticed, for all were doing the same.

I did not rest long. I woke to a
buzzing of voices and realised I had slept only an hour or so. It might have
been five hours past midday. Marik had called us all to assemble by the
cookfires. His lovely voice was grim. Around me the others murmured, wondering
what was to do.

Marik stood by the tire, his men
behind him, a horrible bloody bundle at his feel. “I was called by the
Guardian this noontide,” he said loudly. He need not have bothered, he had
everyone’s attention. “This poor dead fool decided I was a liar and
crossed the Boundary last night. They returned his body this morning. He looked
around at our closed faces. “I need your assistance with this, I fear. I
would ask you to come and look at the body. I do not know this young idiot’s
face or name; perhaps one of you might be able to tell me.”

I knew perfectly well who it was, but
his brother was there long before me. I had not seen him in the darkness last
night, the body was too far away; now I saw clearly, as could we all, the wreck
of that young man. The huge gash in his body, the head at a sickening angle,
and on the dead face a grimace of terror. It turned my stomach, I wrapped my
arms about myself and was glad I had not eaten for many hours. I had seen death
before, but this was horrible. I kept telling myself he was a thief, he was a
thief—but it made no difference. He had been a young man with all his life
before him to change his ways, to atone for any evil.

A general murmur arose, filled with
outrage and anger. Marik was waiting for it.

“If you’re thinking of revenge,
you may as well give it up now,” he said over the muttering of the crowd.
“How should you revenge yourselves against creatures that can kill like
that? I have seen them. They have claws the size of my arm and teeth to match,
and they can fly. You fools, they are True Dragons! You could all stab at them
with swords of the finest southern steel for a hundred years and they would
never feel it. I tell you again; the Treaty protects us, the Boundary protects
us, but if you cross it you will be as dead as—as—”

“Perrin,” said his brother
Darin brokenly, his face white with shock. “His name was Perrin.”

Perrin,
I thought.
Perrin.
I will not forget.

No one should die like that. Not even
for being a thief. Somehow I must say that to my large brother.

Marik

Caderan and I wandered back to my
cabin together after the body was identified. “A useful lesson, at
least,” I said as we walked. “It should stop any more forays into the
dragonlands. I can’t afford to lose any more Harvesters.”

“Indeed, my lord. It is certain
that the Harvest cannot be extended? We are so shorthanded.”

“If you want to go and ask the
beasts and be killed for your pains, I do not,” I snapped. He just looked
at me. “Forgive me, Caderan,” I said, “the pain is bad today.
No, the Guardian told me six nights, leave at dawn on the seventh, and I intend
to do just that. Now,” I said as we entered the cabin, “we have gone
over the artifacts that you and Magister Berys prepared the boots that mask
sound, a cloak of deep shadow to hide me in darkness, the amulet to cover
scent, and all with no trace of the demons that made them. Now, what is this
ring he has sent?”

“The Ring of Seven Circles: It
is a great work, Lord Marik,” simpered Caderan. “There are none alive
save Berys who have the power to make such things. This alone would be worth
the tenth part of your harvest.” He lowered his voice, as if he feared he
might be overheard. “It is a weapon that will work against True Dragons.
Each circle is more destructive than the last. With this, you may withstand
one of the creatures easily—two, if you are prudent—but you must have it on
your hand for the spell to work. Each circle has a release word—should you wish
to fire off the first circle, you would point the ring at the Dragon, speak the
ward and twist the outer circle thus.”

I took a close look. It seemed no
more than an ugly piece of jewellery, but when I put it on I could feel the
pulse of the fires that coursed through it. I quickly removed it. “Surely
this is a last resort. My whole plan is to avoid a pitched battle, and if it
works—what shall I do if I do not need it? What then of the price I have
paid?”

“Magister Berys told me that he
hoped you would not need it, for he could sell it at three times the price to
any number of adventurers.”

“Very well.” Soberly I
began to consider the possibility of having to fight Dragons. “There is
one more thing to be done, though, and Berys said that you could do it. He said
you would be able to weave a spell to protect me from dragonfire.”

“Yes, he mentioned it to me. I
have been gathering the materials I need, but a few things I still lack, and
you must provide one of them.”

“Somehow I am not surprised.
What do you need, then? Lansip? More blood?”

“Something a Dragon has
touched.”

I was shocked for just a moment, then
felt a broad smile cross my face as I realised what would serve. “Nothing
could be easier. How large a thing?”

“Enough to fill my cupped hand.
But if I may ask, lord, what—”

“I knew that death would be
useful,” I replied. So simple!

“Certainly a Dragon touched
young Perrin. He is yet unburied—if I ask his brother to allow me to arrange
the burial, surely he will not grudge me a handful of flesh around the wound?
Especially if he never knows.”

Caderan bowed. “You are truly a
worthy master. If I may enquire, what are your plans regarding the child of
Maran Vena?”

“You know them,” I said
sharply.

“Forgive me. Your immediate
plans.”

“I shall wait.” When he
started to protest, I snapped at him, “I told you I am shorthanded. She is
bringing in as much lansip as the others, it would be foolish to take her from
that task before I must. Tomorrow night is soon enough, and I shall have had a
full day’s more work out of her. Tomorrow you will instruct me in the rite of
summoning that particular Rikti that will tell us about her blood.”

Caderan bowed. “In truth, my
lord, I will be glad to, but know that we must call upon the Rakshasa for such
information. It will not be cheap.”

“It never is,” I replied
sharply. “Go now, and report to me tomorrow when you have finished your
preparations.”

He bowed and left. I sent one of my
guards to make arrangements about the body with the surviving brother, then
sat musing over a cup of lansip tea. It eased a little the pain that never left
me, the price of the Farseer I had never used.
Oh, Lords of the Seven Hells,
I prayed,
let her be my daughter, that this agony might end!

Tomorrow night I would bring her to
be bled. We would know soon enough thereafter.

Lanen

Ever I waited for Marik to accost me
again that evening. It was almost worse when he did not. All I could think as I
worked, was that he was waiting until I had done my share of Harvesting, that
he might not lose by it. It seemed fairly petty, but I would not put pettiness
beyond him.

I went out gathering with a group
immediately after poor Darin took his brother’s body away, just as the sun was
starting to sink. I saw Rella and called to her, and we worked together for
hours by lamplight, sorting lansip leaves from all others, making sure no twigs
nor dirt went in with the leaves. We came back many hours later, stumbling and
weary, and fed ourselves from the last of the late stew that had been kept warm
over the tire. The full bags we all brought back from our forays were taken to
the ship regularly, and by my rough reckoning there must by now have been
hundreds of them.