Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (29 page)

“How kin ye know that fer certain, lass?”
Brenainn said. “They been here before, en they?”

“Have ye seen any such creatures in your
realm lately, Peadar?” Ionhar asked. “You’re closest to the range.
Any reason to suspect more demons are crossing over?”

“No, none,” Peadar replied. He turned his
attention to Dayn. “What keeps these Tearians on their side of the
mountains?”

“Long ago the people of our world traveled
back and forth. But the mountain erupted, sending death and
destruction. Many from both sides were killed. The Tearians decided
to allow no more people from Kirador to pass into their lands; and
they would allow no more Tearians to pass into ours. Soldiers were
sent to protect their borders. Anyone who tried to pass beyond them
was killed.”

“Then why did they invade us?” Uaine asked.
“Why did they seize our lands and murder our people?”

“I don’t know,” Dayn said. “Perhaps it was
rogues or some group that had broken away from Tearia.”

“There was more to it than tha’,” Brenainn
reminded them. “Those damned cat-folk came over first.”

“Aye,” Peadar said. “The Taubastets. Caught
between us and them.” He shook his head. “Most unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate indeed,” Uaine said. “If not for
the cats, we’d have defeated the demon hordes sooner.”

Ionhar clenched his fists. He had been silent
thus far, but the topic had clearly touched a nerve. “If not for
what we
did
to the cats, we’d have had them as ally, not
foe!”

Brenainn rolled his eyes. “Achh…here we go
again,” he muttered.

“That debate is not up for discussion
tonight,” Peadar said. He turned his attention back to Dayn. “If
this place ye speak of does exist, we’ll need proof. We’re in no
position to make a stand without it. Maybe there are Tearians,
maybe there aren’t. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t demons, too.
The Taubastets of old proved the existence of cultures even our
ancestors weren’t aware of. And that’s what caused the divide.”

Eileis rose. “Divided, yes, but we shouldn’t
be, not from each other.” She turned to the audience. “Your
ancestors migrated from the higher mountains when they lost their
battle with those you call demon. It was Konyl who led your kin. It
was Konyl who died for them.”

Voices agreed. “Hail, Konyl,” many said.

“Yes,” Eileis said. “Hail, Konyl. But he was
fighting for more than the lands you lost; he was fighting for the
convictions you’ve since given away! What do you think Konyl would
say if he were to see you cow-towing to the likes of Lorcan and the
Vestry? Assimilating values is one thing. Turning away from your
beliefs is another.”

A woman standing up front spoke. “I mean no
disrespect to Konyl,” she said. “We Sandrights appreciate him and
the other Aeries fightin’ the hoards for us back then the way they
did. But that was a long time ago, and since then the laws o’ the
Vestry have become the real threat. You know what happened to those
who refused to give up the old ways.”

“Their sacrifices will not be forgotten,”
Eileis said.

“Maybe the Vestry’s right,” the woman
continued, “and the Maker is angry with us for not listenin’. I
don’t know. But I do know the wells on our land have gone bad. That
livestock is dyin’ and crops are witherin’. If Daghadar’s sendin’
us a message, then we’d best pay heed to it!”

“Daghadar does indeed send us a message,”
Eileis said.

“No,” Ionhar interrupted. “He sends us a
test.”

“A test?” Uaine said.

“Aye, ye know…” Brenainn retorted, “like a
challenge o’ sorts.”

“I know what a test is,” Uaine growled. “I
meant what manner of test?”

“A test of our spiritual strength,” Eileis
said.

“A test to see if we’re worthy,” Ionhar
added. Then he smiled slyly. “The same test, I believe, the
followers of the Vestry are currently experiencin’.”

“Yes,” Eileis said, “but their solution is to
cleanse Kirador of what they perceive to be the cause of it. And
that gets us back to one of the reasons for this Gatherin’:
Dayn.”

“How can I be responsible for all that?” Dayn
sputtered. “I only just got back!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eileis said. “The Vestry
means to make an example of you. They believe you’ve roused the
demons against them and that the clans, especially the Aeries, have
been a party to it.”

“Ye know this to be true?” Peadar asked
her.

“Yes. Lorcan paid me a visit just days ago.
Asked me to persuade you to turn Dayn over.”

“And you said?” Dayn interjected.

“What do you think I said,” Eileis replied.
“I told him what he could do with himself.” She smiled at Vania. “I
learned that from you, Vania.”

The audience laughed.

“I see no humor in this,” Uaine seethed.
“Your words may well have lit a fire!”

“The fire was already lit,” Eileis said. “Lit
the moment the first Vestry torch was set upon those who opposed
them! How long has it been since your own clansmen were staked for
their beliefs? Have you forgotten their suffering?”

The audience grew solemn.

“No, Eileis. We’ve not forgotten,” Ionhar
said softly. “But we can’t risk it again.”

“Yet you would consider sending Dayn to the
Vestry?”

Ionhar rose from the bench. “I would
not
consider it. And neither will Peadar, I’m sure.”

Peadar nodded.

“Easy to say, Ionhar,” Uaine argued. “But the
fact is, we have no choice but to consider it.”

“I’ll agree with ye there,” Brenainn
muttered, his arms folded across his chest. “Don’ mean we hafta
send him though.”

“Very well. It’s been considered,” Eileis
said. She ran her eyes along the line of Chieftains, capturing the
attention of them one by one. “So what will it be, Lords? Do you
send the boy to the Vestry, or do you tell them what they can do
with themselves?”

The Chieftains glanced at each other.

“Braw,” Brenainn said, then he gave her a
broad smile. “Ye’ll not be seein’ us send yon Dayn to the Vestry
this day, Spirit Keeper.”

“That’s good to know,” she said, “for we face
another threat, one that is far greater than that of the Vestry: We
face the mountain.” She stared hard at the Chieftains. “You know
Dayn is not the cause of our troubles. It is the Vestry that must
be convinced.”

“But how to convince ‘em,” Ionhar said
thoughtfully.

“The only way we can,” Eileis said. “We tell
them Dayn’s story, show them there may be more in this world than
what they have chosen to see. For this to ring true, the clans must
be united in it; there can be no fighting amongst you.”

“No judgment of this magnitude can be made
without proof and further deliberation,” Peadar said.

“I can give you proof,” Dayn said.

All heads turned.

“Well, let’s see it then!” Brenainn said.

“You can’t see it tonight,” Dayn said. “But I
can show it to you in the morning.”

“The
morning
?” Uaine said with
indignation. “What’s wrong with now?”

Dayn looked at Eyan, then drew a steadying
breath. “Because the proof is in a cave.”

The muscles in Haskel’s face constricted.
Dayn saw Eyan glance his father’s way, then jerk his eyes back to
the floor.

The Chieftains turned to each other,
muttering and discussing. In the background the crowd buzzed with
discussions of their own.

Peadar rose and stepped toward the audience.
The circle grew quiet.

“It is determined by the jury of your
lordships that the Plenum of Four shall re-converge tomorrow.” The
audience gawked with surprise. “Until then,” Peadar continued,
“we’ll take into account all evidence presented to us in the matter
of Tearia and the birthrights in question, includin’ young Eyan,
whose request for clan rights has not yet been thoroughly
addressed. We will notify ye of the time when the next plenum is to
take place. Meanwhile, you’re all to remain here at the
Gatherin’.”

People stood speechless. No plenum had ever
been cut short in the history of Gatherings. The crowd began to
grow restless. How long were they to wait? many could be heard
asking. What were they to do until then?

Brenainn threw a hand up. “Be glad of it, ye
fools,” he bellowed. “Now get on with yer partyin’.”

The crowd’s mood lifted, but Dayn’s could not
help but plunge. The misery of this night was now doomed to drag
into the next and maybe even the next. And then what? Only the
writings in the cave held the answer to that.

Back to ToC

Chapter 24: The
Dance

T
he music was
lively, but the rhythm of the dancers’ feet was sluggish in
comparison. Fiddle-bows bounced across vibrating strings; pipes
chirped to the pounding of the drums. But the patrons seemed
distracted as they made their way across the floor.

Dayn sat slumped in a chair against the far
wall, his arms crossed and legs stretched out before him. He
watched as a young man in blue ushered a female partner to the
center of the dance floor. The girl, dressed in velvety shades of
sienna, smiled and flicked her eyes at Dayn. Her fingertips were
resting on her partner’s outstretched palm, indicating they were a
couple, at least for the duration of the dance. But when the young
man noticed her smiling at Dayn, he threw an arm around her waist
to further stake his claim. An Elder standing nearby gave him a
glare that could have dropped him where he stood. The boy’s Adam’s
apple bobbed. He knew full well it was unacceptable for a male to
touch an unmarried female in such a manner. The boy tipped his head
to the Elder, asking forgiveness with his eyes if not with his
words.

Dayn snickered to himself. The boy looked
rather pitiful, he thought, like a pup that had been put in his
place. It was a ridiculous ritual, trying to keep boys and girls at
arm’s length like that. Perhaps the older patrons didn’t mind it,
but the younger ones wanted nothing more than to wrap those arms
around each other. After years of sitting on the sidelines, Dayn
had become a keen observer of such things. He knew the boy’s
non-verbal apology was merely for show; the couple had probably
arranged a private rendezvous later.

“Tell me what they’re doin’,” Eyan said,
interrupting Dayn’s musings. Eyan was sitting beside him, his wide
gaze bouncing around the room.

“Dancing,” Dayn said.

“I know, but the other part…the fingers on
the hands, the—”

“They are pretending they don’t want to roll
in the hay with each other.”

“What?” Eyan asked.

“Never mind. Look, their fingertips are
allowed to touch, but their arms keep them apart. It lets others
know they belong to each other, at least for the duration of the
dance. It’s all part of the courtship.”

“Courtship,” Eyan echoed, keeping his eyes on
the swirling dancers. “Explain how one does the courtship.”

Dayn sighed. Perhaps Eyan was a simpleton,
but if he needed an explanation, Dayn supposed he was the best
person to give it to him, though he would probably do better
learning about courtship from someone who had actually done it.

“Well,” Dayn said, “courting is when a couple
gets to know each other. They usually start by visiting each other
at their parents’ houses; then, with permission, they might be
allowed to go to dances, maybe sit next to each other at festival
dinners, things like that.” He inclined his head toward the girl
who had flicked her eyes in his direction earlier, a Sandright, and
her audacious partner, a Crest. “See that boy and girl there?
They’re from different clans. In the past, the clans were too far
apart for any real courtship to take place between them. But the
Sandrights have joined with the Crests, so they’ll probably mix
now. I think it’s good; it makes the clans seem more united.”

Eyan’s forehead creased with confusion.

Dayn laughed. “All right, let’s just focus on
the couple. They are dancing together, see? So are probably
courting.”

“And because they’re courtin’, they’ll marry
each other?” Eyan asked.

Dayn shrugged. “Maybe. But they’re not
obligated to. If you’ll notice, the girl’s looking at other boys,
not just the one she’s dancing with. The boy however—”

“He’s lookin’ at other boys,” Eyan said,
attempting to fill in the blanks.

“No,” Dayn snapped. “God, Eyan, don’t you
know
anything
.”

Eyan winced.

Dayn immediately regretted his tone. Of
course Eyan didn’t know anything; he had spent the past nineteen
years in seclusion. How could he possibly know about courtship? His
parents had decided early on that he would not be allowed to marry.
They obviously hadn’t talked to him about things he could never
hope to have. But if they hadn’t talked to him about courting, what
else hadn’t they talked to him about?

Dayn glanced around, assessing who might be
within earshot, then leaned in and said, “How much do you know
about…procreation?”

Eyan looked startled, then his expression
turned to genuine interest. “Father talked to me about it once.
I’ve seen the horses do it. And other animals.”

“Right. But people do it, too.” Dayn felt
like a complete idiot; surely Eyan knew all this.

“I’m not
stupid
,” Eyan said. “But only
certain people are allowed to procreate, right?”

Dayn felt his aggravation rise to the
surface. But it wasn’t toward Eyan. It was toward the way his
cousin had been excluded from everything, how he had been denied a
full life, and how, until recently, he’d had little hope for a
future either. As Dayn thought on it, he realized it wasn’t
entirely Haskel’s and Vania’s fault. They had, after all, only done
it to protect him. All too often parents were forced to make
difficult decisions in regard to their children; Dayn had learned
that well enough from his own mother, Brina, who had given him to a
stranger rather than have him slain because of his birthmark. Dayn
reached up his hand, fingering the flower-shaped stain on his
neck.