Threads of smoke rose like the remnants of dreams, escaping through the
smoke-hole of a fur-lined hut into the morning air. The weak grey light
outlined several mounds of blankets lying on raised platforms against
the wall. Occasionally one would stir as its inhabitant moved closer to
the world of the waking.
The hut was known as a gharib -- a large, sturdy construction of
white pine poles bent into a domed framework, though this was not
immediately obvious. Layers of woolen blankets hung from the walls, leaving
only glimpses of the wood here and there. A few at ground level pushed
apart as a muttering figure shuffled inside with a stack of hide
scrolls.
A blanket bundle shifted and sat up. "Maman!"
"Don't take that tone with me, Vandani," chided the figure, setting
down its burden on the packed dirt floor. It straightened, revealing
itself to be a short, wizened woman wrapped in a fringed shawl, her
salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a bun at the base of her neck. "It's high time
you were awake."
"Everyone else is still asleep," Vandani pointed out, irritated at
being roused. Even the goats weren't awake this early -- that said
something. Right now, all she wanted was to snuggle back down into the warm
cocoon of blankets and sleep until Tungar and Pari became too noisy to
ignore.
Her irritation turned inward at that thought. Are you so slothful,
Vani? Get up and stop putting off today -- it will happen whether you
will it or not!
"Why did you drag out all the old trading logs by yourself? I could've
helped you," she yawned, forcing her feet off the bunk. Grimacing at
the cold earth under her toes, she hurried to the fire-pit and poked at
the coals with a half-burnt stick. The sooner she got a blaze going, the
sooner it would start feeling less like early winter.
"Here, let me," Lalan commandeered the stick from her daughter. "Go
dress. You need to make sure of the path you and Srikant will be taking."
She blew on the coals, making them glow red.
"I know where we're going. I've been memorizing those maps for days,"
Vandani pointed out evenly as she struggled into her jacket, checking
her inside breast pocket for the stone before fastening the last tie.
"Anyway, there's no time this morning. Please don't worry." Warmer now,
she felt more like herself and less inclined to snap.
Lalan stood and faced Vandani, fists akimbo. "I am your maman. I
will decide when and where I worry about you," she said sternly. Unable
to maintain her authoritative facade for long in the situation, her
features softened. "And I do worry. You may act like a grown woman, but
you are only three years down the mountain. There are many dangers you
don't know about.." She tore her gaze away from a memory and rounded on
the girl, who was lifting a kettle and tripod from the corner. "If
something happens to you out there, I'll hang you from the rafters, do you
hear me?"
"Yes, Maman," Vandani replied meekly, though her lips twisted into a
smile. She positioned the tripod over the fire-pit, now filled with
crackling flames, and turned to face Lalan.
"Hold out your wrist," the old woman ordered, pulling a length of
string from her pocket; Vandani complied. Lalan tied the string around the
proffered limb with an air of ceremony. She and her daughter stood back,
then embraced fiercely.
"Be safe. You will come back." It was not so much a command as a
prayer.
"From fall until spring. I promise, Maman."
The evening before, what had seemed like the entire clan had gathered
around the hut with things for Vandani and Srikant to trade or deliver,
from bone
carvings and utensils to the plush pelt of a snow leopard. Although she
had exercised all her powers of selection picking over the piles of
goods while people told her what they hoped to get in return, Vandani
still grunted with effort as she slung the bulging pack onto her shoulders
and made for the door-flap. Brushing the worn leather hanging aside,
she stepped outside to look for Srikant and instead nearly collided with
her brother as he came around the corner with a bucket of fresh goat
milk in each hand. A few drops splattered across Kushal's footwraps as he
stumbled back.
He grinned brightly at her. Vandani narrowed her eyes in suspicion. A
smiling Kushal wasn't unusual, but he had a glint in his eye that she
was all too familiar with. Her brother was up to something -- she just
had to find out what. Hopefully not by falling for it, into it or, as had
happened once, having it fall on her.
She didn't have long to wait. "Say, Vani, that pack looks too heavy for
such a delicate flower as yourself. Why don't you and Sri take Oorjit
to carry your goo-" He was interrupted by an admonishing whack from his
mother, who had come up behind him while he was talking. "Kushal! Don't
you try pawning that devil goat off on Vandani! He has plenty more
years left in his hide!" Kushal muttered something, rubbing at the back of
his head.
"What was that?" Lalan demanded. "Don't hide things from your maman."
"I said that's what I'm afraid of, Maman," he said in a loud
voice full of affectionate exasperation. Despite being the thirty-four,
married, and the father of five children, Kushal had to struggle to
retain his position as head of the family. It wasn't his fault; Lalan's
willpower could move mountains. She and Vandani's father had been a
formidable team of chieftain and wife; even with Ganaraj twelve years gone,
she still held considerable sway in the clan. "He just gets tougher with
age."
"That's good! We have a strong herd because of him. Now-"
"Vanivanivanivanivani!" A small shape barreled out of the gharib and attached
itself to Vandani's leg, making the large girl stagger under the weight
of her pack. "You can't leave yet! It's bad luck not to say goodbye!"
Lalan swept in. "Yamini! Your aunt hasn't left yet; you should be more
careful." "But she-" "-isn't going to leave until you've all tied
yourselves to me, so don't worry," Vandani cut in, displaying her string
bracelet. "Where is everyone?"
"Matu's feeding Ranji and Chani's getting dressed and the boys already
went down. They had a race," Yamini informed her, sticking her thumb in
her mouth. She took it out again when Vandani gave her a look. "And
I've got my string."
A commotion sounded within the hut. "Maman, where are my
ribbons?" "I don't know, Chani; find them yourself!" "I'm trying!"
Inwardly, Vandani rolled her eyes at her niece's vanity, but kept her
expression neutral. Kushal ducked into the gharib, unperturbed by the
squabble. "Come on, girls! Chacha, leave your ribbons; Vani has a long way
to go today. You're pretty enough without them." Mention of the journey
that lay ahead kicked Vandani into action. She handed Yamini to Lalan
and stood up. "Come on. We'll meet up with them at the road. The boys
are probably waiting."
The boys were waiting -- and so were Srikant, his family, a few of the
clan, and the chieftain. They were all clustered around the scraggly
pines where the packed dirt of the village narrowed to a thin path
winding down the mountainside. It was little more than a game trail; tucked
away on the side of a forbidding mountain, the Ainesh Gandhamad received
few visitors. People chattered amongst themselves as they waited;
Vandani approached her nephews, who were trying to scale one of the pines
without success. Tungar helped his sister tie her string around one of
Vandani's bone hair-rings, then fastened his around her other wrist while
Parindra did the same.
By this time, Kushal, his wife Lajwati, Chanchala and Ranjit had
arrived. Vandani was beginning to feel like a goat herself as she seemed to
sprout creamy tassels from her wrists and hair, but she wasn't about to
tamper with the knots and break the bonds of family that would bring
her home in fall. True, she had her stone -- it rested inside her jacket,
a subtle weight upon her breast -- but the cut crystal's powers
remained a mystery to her. She wished, not for the first time, that her
original dream had been more lucid. It would have saved her from a
supernatural
scolding when the mountain spirit became impatient with her inactivity.
Would Ainesh send an avalanche after her if she failed to achieve his
orders? Vandani narrowed her eyes, trying to bring the mist-shrouded
peak of the mountain into focus to calm the sudden flutterings of fear in
her chest.
Lost in her thoughts, the girl failed to hear the conversation around
her until Ranjit started to cry, a loud, high-pitched wail as he tried
to grab her hand from his perch on Lajwati's hip. Wordlessly, Vandani
accepted her two-year-old nephew from his mother and embraced him with an
awkward pat on the back, rather embarrassed at the sudden emotional
outburst. "There. There," she muttered gruffly in his ear. "Shh." This did
not improve matters.
Her expression calm, Vandani scanned the area. Had anyone seen? If they
hadn't, they'd have to have been deaf not to hear it.. Yes, Srikant's
weaver friend was looking her way. Vandani endeavored to make her
expression serious. "Ranji. Stop that, or I'll hang you from the rafters."
Lalan had used the threat on her a thousand times and Vandani had never
found herself dangling over the fire-pit, so it had lost most of its
clout, but for Ranjit it worked. The wails reduced to whimpers, then
snuffling. Feeling guilty for resorting to petty threats, Vandani ruffled
her nephew's mop of black hair. "He doesn't understand why you're
leaving," Lajwati explained as she took him back.
"Nor do I." Marut, the Ainesh chieftain, approached Vandani with string
in hand. As he looped the wool fibers into a knot about her wrist, she
took advantage of her second-eldest brother's distraction to study his
features. Like her, he was sturdily built and somewhat tall, with broad
fingers, a broad nose, and deeply tanned skin. His grey woolen jacket,
trousers and cape were like any other Gandhamad's, but a carved bone
circlet quietly proclaimed his status. Dark brown eyes met her own;
something in the way they narrowed suggested to Vandani he knew more than he
let on. He
generally did.
"This is unlike you," he stated. Vandani nodded in agreement -- it was.
They continued to stare at each other; Marut backed down first. "Well.
If that's the way of it, then I have some advice for you, and it is
this: a bad hunter chases. A good hunter waits," he intoned, gripping her
hands. "Remember me, Vani."
"I'll remember."
"May Ainesh guide your path."
The spell broke when a hand tugged her thick ponytail. "Hey, hey,
what's all this gloominess? You shouldn't be here right now. Think about it,
Vani -- it's a big world out there. Plenty of excitement, adventure,
nice boys.. " Vandani pretended not to hear what Kushal said, but Marut
gave him a look. "Why is it our eldest sibling acts as if he is
youngest?" A pause. "He has a point about the boys, though," the chieftain
conceded. "You've seemed rather disinterested." Vandani shrugged as the
eldest (in name only) ruffled her hair.
"Someone has to compensate for you two," he grinned, then suddenly
became somber. "But you shouldn't be here in any case, my old little sister
-- Srikant's already left."
Vandani momentarily lost her composure. "He what?" she demanded,
whirling around to face the forest. Sure
enough, she could see her traveling companion passing under a large
tree about fifty yards away. How dare he leave without her! At least most
of the clan wasn't here to see her start "late" on her journey. She
took off at a run.
After she was out of earshot, Marut turned to his brother. "That was
rather underhanded of you," he commented dryly. Kushal grinned and
stretched. "Well, something had to get her going before noon. Being
the oldest isn't all fun and games, you know?"
Srikant was having a good morning. Finally, he was doing what he wanted
to do -- not sitting long hours in the meadows or hunting after lost
goats in the dead of night, but trading. In his imagination the boy
bartered with the best of them, dazzling sellers and buyers alike as he made
numbers dance flawlessly into profits. His body, forgotten in the real
world, continued down the steep trail toward distant lands. Stopping
for directions never crossed his mind, but luckily for him, the
directions were running to catch up.
"Hey!" Trying not to crash into Srikant, Vandani nearly tripped over
her own feet before falling into step beside her spiky-haired trading
partner. "You're not supposed to run off without me," she scolded him as
she would Ranjit or Yamini, and then realized she had.
Srikant didn't seem to notice. "Sorry, Vani. I'm just eager to get out
there, you know? I didn't mean to leave you behind," he apologized,
looking sideways at her. Shorter than Vandani by two inches, his spiky
black hair and open face made it easy for her to file him under "little
brother," despite his being a year older than her sixteen. "So.. where
are we headed?"
"North," Vandani replied promptly. "We'll go through Diwat Pass and
follow the Bidangala down to the Basin. We'll spend the rest of spring
there, then work as guides during summer, which will take us back and
forth across the range." The stone was growing disturbingly warm in her
pocket as she spoke. She wondered at that, but went on. "In late fall
we'll return to.. return.. ow.."
"Vandani?" Srikant's brow creased with concern. "Do we need to stop?"
Vandani frowned, holding up a hand to indicate she wanted silence. The
stone had become painfully hot, like a cooking fire, but when she
checked the fabric of her jacket, it was unburned. The stone was cool to the
touch.
Not like a fire at all, really, she thought, but more like.. more
like a winter storm -- one that makes your hands go dead. ..No. That's..
not quite it either, but..
"Vandani?" Srikant was waiting for an answer.
"I changed my mind. We'll go eas- no, west," she corrected herself as
the stone flared again, racking her brain for reasons to go in such an
unorthodox direction. "There's.. it's different there; we'll have less
competition from other Gandhamad. They'll have interesting things to
trade.." She struggled; invention wasn't her strong suit. "..that'll be
worth more on the usual trader routes. Our things will be worth more over
there, too. People like rare things. Maybe we'll find new dyes." It was
nearly pure speculation -- the old trading logs barely mentioned the
eastern lands -- but it seemed to satisfy Srikant, who nodded cheerfully.
"And it will keep us in the mountains longer. We can get used to travel
and trade before we head down," Vandani added, just to make sure he was
convinced. She nodded, wishing she felt as knowledgeable and certain as
she sounded. Or hoped she sounded, at least. "Yes. West is best."
She would build a cairn when they stopped for the night and make a
formal prayer to Ainesh, but as she and Srikant traveled away from the dirt
track, Vandani touched her chest and sent a silent appeal to the
mountain spirit.
You see all, but I do not. What is it you would have
me do?
As Vandani and Srikant began their journey, elsewhere another journey
of a sort was coming to a close. Deep in the forests west of the
mountains, a hunting party returned to their camp. Surely, this group of
hunters from the Sylvere clan had made a very impressive showing in their
days away from their fellows. Indeed, a celebration nearly erupted on
the spot, as game had been even scarcer this winter than usual.
Yet, one individual was not inclined to join in the celebrations, even
if his own skills had much to do with the success of this now-completed
hunt. Instead, he quietly crept away from the spontaneous festivities,
until the sounds of celebration were just barely at the edge of his
hearing.
Silently, Arden Lupus withdrew from his pouch the moonstone he'd found
washed up on the coast years ago. He turned it over in his palm,
thoughtfully reviewing the now-completed hunt, away from the distractions of
his clanmates. He wasn't entirely certain, but it almost seemed as
though the stone was trying to tell him something - a warning of some
sort, but not with any urgency associated with danger. This would have
seemed odd, except for the fact that during the entire hunt, Arden had
noted a tug from the stone each time there was quarry to be found,
especially when the game had avoided notice from himself or his fellow
hunters. The problem was, while he was certain that whatever message being
sent involved no imminent disaster, he had no better clue than that what
the message was supposed to be.
"Whatcha doing, Arden?"
The young man didn't jump at the sound of the woman's voice, having
noted her shadow crossing in front of him mere moments before she spoke.
So much for time alone to think. "Simply thinking, Heather," he
responded, casually returning the still-mysterious stone to its pouch before
turning around.
While Arden's expression was serious, Heather Aquila was smiling,
though she quickly pursed her lips to see his current mood. Merely a winter
younger than Arden, Heather was one of the clan's few skilled traders,
with skill in tanning and weaving during the usual times when trade is
scarce. "Well, aren't we a quiverfull of cheer?" she teased. "You
sure don't look like you've just led the first really successful hunt of
the winter." Before he could protest, Heather grabbed his hand and
started dragging him back to the festivities. "Come on, everyone's
wondering where you've gone off to!"
Arden managed to protest inarticulately, "Er ... um .. " but he simply
sighed and let himself be dragged along. Whatever warning was being
passed to him, he had the feeling that there would yet be some time to
think on its meaning.
'Just as one does not rush in and out of their host's gharib, neither
should one approach or leave Ainesh
too quickly.' Vandani had full faith in the old saying, along with
tales of those whose breath failed them when they rushed toward the plains.
The first snow fell not long after they left the last Gandhamad
village, but she insisted upon a slow pace, citing the fates of Hasha the
Ungrateful, Urdal the Stupid, and "too many heretics to name." As a result,
by the time they reached the lowlands the worst of winter was over and
the snow showed signs of melt.
Although the when changed significantly, from Arden's position the
where only moved a few miles to a clearing lit by fire. Ruddy light cast
long shadows into the trees, including those formed by figures who seemed
intent on the leaping blaze that hissed and spat as though it had life
of its own.
One said, "This water is taking an awfully long time to boil."
"Be patient," advised the other.
"Maybe there's something with the fire?"
"Nothing wrong with the fire; I build perfectly good fires."
"Yes, but you do it so slowly. Maybe the water boils slowly because you
build the fire slowly."
The second figure leaned forward and poked at the arrangement of logs
with a stick, trying to keep traces of annoyance out of its voice.
"Somehow I doubt it, Srikant."
"Maybe it's the wrong kind of wood? The trees are different here."
"There is no wrong kind of wood. All wood burns. Fire makes things hot,
and hot water boils. Eventually,
anyway. End of tukka."
"It's been like this since we left the mountains. Have you noticed? The
water takes longer to boil, but the
food takes less time to cook. Back there, you could get through the
first abhag of the Calitra before it was time to eat. It's
interesting." Srikant mused as he skinned his catch -- a fat rabbit --
for the stewpot.
There was silence for a few moments, save the occasional crackle or
snap from the fire. Then: "I still think it might be the wrong kind of
wood. Or maybe all this thick air."
"Or maybe it's the wrong kind of water?" Vandani suggested, shooting a
Look in her companion's direction.
"You know, I didn't think of that. Does it change as it goes down the
mountain streams? Maybe slower-moving streams don't heat up as quickly?
Or maybe-"
"Srikant?"
"Yes?"
"It's boiling. You can add the rabbit now."
As Srikant sliced bite-sized chunks into the bubbling pot, the
dark-haired girl sitting opposite him let her
attention wander back to her thoughts. Srikant was pleasant enough once
you learned to ignore his babble, but she had been growing increasingly
agitated the further they traveled from the mountains.
She was, for lack of a better word, lost. She was on the right track --
there was no doubt in her mind about
that -- but the problem was that she had no idea where it led,
and was beginning to wonder if she even
knew where she was. According to the old trading logs, this was the
forest of the Sylvere, but humans --
imperfect humans that did not possess one bhat the vision of
Ainesh -- had written the logs years and years ago, and she knew even less
than they probably had.
What she did know was that the rabbit wasn't cooking fast enough for
her impatient stomach.
"Srikant," she said after a while. "How far have we come, do you
think?"
"Farther than any other Gandhamad have come?" he replied, watching the
stew carefully. "Maybe farther than the Bidangala flows."
"No, that's not true -- the logs talk about this forest, so there were
Gandhamad here," Vandani objected. "They all came home safely, or they
couldn't have written those logs. If that's what you're worried about,"
she added quickly.
Srikant looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled. "It wasn't, but
that's nice to know." He ladled the stew evenly into two bowls and offered
one to Vandani. "How should we determine who takes first watch tonight?"
he asked.
"Mmph." Vandani didn't reply properly until her bowl was empty, which
didn't take long. "Knucklebones?"
"You always win. Dandi-biyo?"
"You always win. Never mind, I'll take it tonight -- I don't
feel like arguing about it."
Srikant nodded, stifling a yawn. "All right. Safe watch, Vani."
His companion settled down near the fire with her knife and a
half-carved chunk of wood, fixing her gaze on the trees. "Mhmm. "
The night passed without any incident. It never took much to convince
the forest's wildlife to keep away from people. The woods remained
peaceful all evening, with only soft noises now and again.
At least, until daybreak. After the first rays of sunlight started to
peer through the leaves of the forest giants, the various creatures of
the wood who had remained quiet all evening began their soft springtime
songs. Mere minutes later, though, the whole area around the camp went
dead silent, as suddenly as if the listeners had plunged their heads
underwater.
Srikant, who had been enjoying the morning birdsong until now, slipped
a stone into his sling and looked around for snow leopards.
There was too much cover. Whatever had silenced the birds would
probably be on him before he had time to aim, and a sling was useless at close
range. Vandani would handle this better -- she knew more about this
place, and she was the one with the knife. Srikant edged over to the
sleeping girl and prodded her in the back. "Hey, Vani?"
She rolled over on her side and squinted at him, trying to tell if he
was a dream or not. "Hgn?"
"Do snow leopards come this far down the mountains?"
"I don't know; why don't you ask them? Maybe they want to trade,"
Vandani mumbled indistinctly.
Srikant bit his lip, straining to hear noises on the edge of his
imagination. "Vandani, I'm serious! Do they?"
The girl sat up slowly. "No; we left them behind a month ago. The logs
say the only dangerous things that size here are bears, wolves, and
people."
She became aware of the silence. "Oh."
"Which is it, do you think?" Srikant mused.
The wondering came to a stop with a sudden rustling through the
underbrush nearby. It wasn't a wolf that sprang out from the brush, but
instead a deer - a deer likely as startled for having come upon the two as
they were for its sudden appearance. Already spooked and apparently
fleeing something else, it didn't take any time to observe the visitors to
the forest, but instead turned sharply left and darted away as quickly
as it had appeared.
The Gandhamad started. Vandani stood up, fumbling for the knife at her
belt. Their heavy gear was too valuable to freely abandon. They could
drive one wolf off, but a pack would be another story -- or rather, the
end of one. What to do..?
Srikant hesitated, weighing his sling in one hand. "Vandani?"
"Eh, you.. Uh.. You grab a stick from the fire. We won't run until we
see what it is," the girl ordered, dragging her pack over to Srikant's.
He nodded; the fire collapsed as he pulled away a stout branch it had
been feeding on. Backs to their supplies, she and
Srikant waited with weapons ready.
The sounds of the deer's running could no longer be heard once the pair
had readied their knife and burning brand. Dead silence hung about the
forest as if it were a thick fog blocking hearing instead of sight.
Slowly, though, the sounds of life began to creep back into being,
cautiously at first.
From around a tree within eyesight of the camp, with nary a sound,
peered a wiry young man of middling height, wearing skins likely
originating from some cousin of the deer that had so recently dashed through.
Though armed with a bow with arrow nocked, he kept the weapon pointed at
the ground, prudent but unconcerned with an immediate threat. Most
likely, the first sign that the Gandhamad received of Arden's presence was
when he finally spoke, "Visitors to the forest? Now this is something
that doesn't happen often."
Srikant relaxed visibly, lowering his makeshift weapon; after a giving
the newcomer a cautious glare, Vandani followed suit. "My apologies.
This is not our usual route," the boy explained in thickly accented
tones, offering the hunter a friendly smile. "We are traders; I am Srikant
of the Ainesh Gandhamad. We are passing through on our way to.. Vani?"
He gave his partner a questioning look.
"We are passing through," she said firmly. She wasn't about to admit
she had no idea of their destination. "We mean no harm."
Arden watched over the two as they spoke, giving no sign pleasant or
otherwise as he listened. The
question on his clan caused him to pause briefly, after which he
removed his arrow from his bow and returned it to its quiver, stepping more
fully into view as he did so.
"So long as no harm is meant, no harm will be given," he said with a
faint smile, notably more personable than his initial greeting. "I am
Arden Lupus of Clan Sylvere. I apologize if my companions and I startled
you, but the hunt does not wait on the time of day." Two other young
men made themselves visible around the camp as Arden spoke, likewise
putting away arrows as per Arden's lead.
Srikant nodded, still smiling. "It is good to meet
you, Arden Lupus of Clan Sylvere. This is Vandani, my
trading partner. Your quarry startled us. It went that
way," he added helpfully, pointing into the trees.
Vandani sheathed her knife and moved to stand beside
Srikant, mostly for the look of the thing; she was
quite willing to let him handle the talking, though
she did give a nod to the hunters. "Have you a
settlement nearby?" Srikant went on. "Perhaps some of
our goods may be of interest to you."
Arden's smile broadened slightly. "The quarry didn't
get far," he assured, amused yet speaking as a
matter-of-fact rather than out of overbearing pride.
He considered the two newcomers a few moments longer,
nodding to Vandani as Srikant introduced her. After
that period of quiet, though, he said, "Our camp is
not far from here - you are lucky, for were you a day
or more later, we'd not have crossed paths."
Two more hunters, a man and woman who looked like they
were younger than any of the others so far, passed
into view bearing the deer's weight between them. The
quarry indeed had but a single, clean arrow in its
neck.
Arden nodded approvingly to the pair bearing the catch
of the morning, then smiled to the Gandhamad. "Please,
join us. If trade is your business, then there's a
few amongst us who would be glad to speak with you."
The two other hunters who had appeared around the camp
shared a brief, surprised look between themselves, but
apparently Arden was in charge of the expedition, for
if they disagreed with the decision, they didn't dare
open their mouths about it.
Srikant grinned and shouldered his pack. "Accha.
Then let us be going." Finally! It was time for the
interesting part of the trip to resume.
Interesting though it may have been, the trip was
spent by the five Sylvere in near silence. Luckily,
the walk to the campsite did not take long, for after
ten minutes of walking, the sounds of civilization
could be heard - people talking, simple tools in use,
even the slight scent of a fire burning.
Arden, who up until this point was keeping more toward
the back, took the lead again as the group nears the
camp. True to his word, many of the tents and other
"structures" of the camp were in some degree of
disassembly, with supplies and packs carefully set
around those tents still standing.
The other four of the group headed off in one
direction, but Arden instead gestured toward the
visitors to follow him. "Our clan's elders will
likely have a few questions for you before they'll let
you speak with our traders. Then again, as you can
see, they're likely busy preparing for our departure
tomorrow."
"We would be happy to lend a hand to your preparations
to pay back the elders' time," Srikant offered. Less
interested in getting down to business than her
partner, Vandani studied their surroundings instead.
The state of the camp made her raise a brow. The
concept of entire tribes being nomadic was lost on
her. No one in their right mind would uproot a
perfectly good home unless something was wrong..
She put two fingers to the area near her heart; the
stone was lukewarm from her body heat, but not
unnaturally hot. Still, it didn't hurt to ask. She
turned to Arden and cleared her throat. "Tell me, why
do you travel? Is there some trouble you wish to
avoid?"
Likewise, Arden found his hand laying atop the pouch
that held his own stone - not protectively, but as if
it was trying to draw his attention. He responded,
however, without any delay. "It has been a harsh
winter," he explained, surprised by the question as
much as Vandani was surprised at the clan's readiness
to move. "Rather than hunt this area out of game, it's
best to let it recover and find somewhere nearby which
hasn't been hunted down."
"So I see," Vandani nodded, although she didn't. In
truth, the reason for migrating seemed as absurd as
the business itself. Forests never ran out of game --
at least, the ones back home didn't. This must be
some punishment from the gods, she thought. These
people will only anger their deities further by
failing to realize that. However, it wasn't her
problem and for the time being it would be prudent to
remain on the good side of the Sylvere, so she said
none of this aloud.
Arden shrugged slightly, not making any more of the
issue than that, even though he could hear the
confusion on Vandani's tone. Besides, seeing a
familiar large and gray-haired figure not far away
distracted him from the culture-clash. "There's one of
our elders now," he explains. "I'll explain the matter
to him, and we can get your matters and ours
straightened out."
While Arden spoke with the Sylvere elders, Vandani
took the opportunity to get a better idea of her
surroundings. This migration business was still
madness, but the clan seemed well-prepared for such a
lifestyle -- from what she could see most members owned
little more than they could carry, not including the
tents. The latter were easily collapsible once a few
key supports were removed. It was Srikant who
discovered this, by experience rather than
observation. Vandani offered profuse apologies as she
extricated her partner from the dissembled tent, but
the family still seemed pleased to have them gone.
"I know you want to get on their good side, but let's
not try helping again unless they ask for it," Vandani
muttered to him once they were well away from the
area.
"It did come down quickly," Srikant pointed out.
"Yes -- on your head. Why not help me think of what we
might trade instead?"
"Hmm. Furs.. maybe some of our spices.." The
spiky-haired boy frowned, then clapped his hands in
inspiration. "Oh! Tea! That's perfect!"
After a brief discussion with the recently assisted
family, Arden rolled his eyes and followed after the
newcomers. Luckily, that was the entirety of the show
of exasperation he gave, so it was out of his system
by the time he caught up to them. "Tea?" he asked
curiously as he came near. "What's this 'tea?'"
Srikant turned around and smiled when he saw Arden.
"It's a wonderful drink we have, very invigorating and
easy to make. The leaves we use are very light when
dry, and you only need a little. Would you like to try
some? You're welcome to share what we carry for
ourselves -- that is, if your elders approve of our
presence here."
"Yes, what of the elders?" Vandani asked.
Arden's sufficiently blank look showed that he really
didn't follow Srikant's explanation, but the question
on the elders rearranged his thoughts to something he
can deal with. "Ah, yes. The elders have agreed to
allow you to remain with us, and as soon as one of the
traders is free, they'll be able to talk business with
you." After a brief pause, he added, "You mentioned
that you were simply passing through the forest. If
my eyes weren't deceiving me, you were headed
westward, vaguely toward where we are now." He
gestured with his hands in said direction, then said,
"The clan is going to be started that way, and you're
welcome to accompany us for as far as you need, or
until we get to our destination."
"We are heading south to Half Cliff-" Vandani replied,
but switched gears when a chill shot through her
chest. She knew where this was headed. "-eventually.
We would be glad to accept your offer."
Once more, Arden's hand ventured to that same pouch,
much more absently this time.. "Half Cliff?" he
repeated, as if the name rang familiar in his ears.
"That's still a bit off from here, but they've got
plenty of things that can't be found in the forest, if
what I've heard is true. It's been a long while since
we've sent a trader there, or they here." He hummed
softly, pondering possibilities.
"If their dyes are as bright and lasting as records
tell, then the trip will be well worth it," Vandani
agreed, then furrowed her brows in thought for a
moment. "Perhaps.. it might be prudent to travel
together," she suggested haltingly, testing the idea.
"We have knowledge of the way, but your land, your
air.. They are strange to us.."
"In which case," replied Arden, "it sounds as though
we can help each other. The lands here are, of course,
quite familiar to us, but with how long it's been, I
doubt our traders still remember the way as clearly as
they might. Even so, I think I know one in particular
who'd be very interested in going." His hand moved
from his pouch to touch his chin lightly. "Besides ...
I have a feeling that I might find some answers there
to some questions."
"A fair exchange," Vandani conceded. "In that case,
there are things that need doing before then. Don't be
long, Srikant - I'll need your pack." She nodded
politely to Arden and ambled away to find a
comfortable sitting spot, preferably away from falling
tents.
Srikant was quick to break to silence that trailed in
his partner's wake. "Buffing up the bone carvings, I
bet," he explained. "So! Let's meet this trader of
yours, Arden."
The next few days brought about more changes in the
Sylvere camp - or, more accurately, what would soon be
the "former" Sylvere camp. Smaller,
less-weighted-down groups of the forest-dwellers left
early toward their new destination, gradually followed
by more and more of the clan. Another
lightly-encumbered group would be the last to leave,
covering as many of the signs that there was ever an
encampment there as possible.
Many of the Sylvere gave their visitors only enough
notice to make sure that they didn't try to provide
any further "assistance" with their moving, as most of
them were rather intent on getting their current tasks
done. The remainder, though, tended to be rather
friendly. This latter group included one Heather
Aquila, who not only took with great enthusiasm the
news of newcomers come to trade, but who excitedly
started making significant changes to her packing when
it was suggested that she join the two Gandhamad and
Arden on a trading mission.
On the third day after Vandani and Srikant's arrival
amongst the Sylvere, the four travelers left with the
majority of the migrating clan. As Arden explained
for their visitors' benefit, this particular group was
the largest of those sent, and only a few others would
follow behind it.
"It should take them about four, maybe five days to
reach the new campsite," he added, "but we won't be
going that far with them. After a day and a half,
we'll come across a fairly large stream, which we'll
follow southward. It'll meet up with a river, which
gives us a good landmark as we leave the forest. From
there, I think you know the path we'll take better
than I do, Vandani."
"Mm," Vandani nodded. She would have preferred to
leave things there, but the situation seemed to demand
a show of superior knowledge. "The river flows from
the mountains on whose slopes lives a warrior tribe,
though which peak they pray to I do not know. To the
west is a burning waste the books call a 'desert.'
We'll bypass both and go over the foothills to the
cliffs some distance south. It would be a good idea to
fill several horns of water before we leave the river,
but otherwise it should be easy traveling."
Her prediction had been true enough, Vandani thought,
if you ignored the group's differences -- something
that was difficult for the group itself to do. The
Sylvere had made so little sound in their deerskin
boots that Vandani had caught herself wondering in the
dead of night if they and their tribe were ghosts, and
if so, if that was the real reason behind their
perpetual wandering. In contrast, wherever she and
Srikant had stepped, there was always a stick or leaf
underfoot to betray their presence, or low-hanging
branches to assail their faces and snag on their
jackets.
Still, things had improved once they left the trees.
Several days after her disastrous first encounter with
tea the way Vandani and Srikant liked it (strong and
nearly scalding,) Heather had reluctantly agreed to
try a second dose, but only if a tiny pinch of dried
leaf was used to flavor the water, which was to be
merely hot. They also weren't trying to clear away her
cairns when the group broke camp every morning, having
accepted -- after protests on her part -- the trail of
tiny stone peaks Vandani left daily in their wake as
they neared Half Cliff.
x
