Fyvesdee, the 5th of Falling, 768 A.E.

  “Do you have any idea where we are?” Rolf asked, breaking the long period of silence that had preceded his words.

  Makan paused shaving and carving a branch and looked up before he answered. “Geographically or otherwise?”

  Rolf glared at Makan. “What do you mean, otherwise? Of course I mean geographically. How else could you reckon our location?”

  Rolf threw up his arms and cast a wide glance around at the scrubby trees and plants that clung tenaciously to the grayish-green rocks around them. They were the castoffs of the mountain cliffs less than a Kilome to the west of them. To their east lay the sea, churning and angry still even Ouers after the storm that brought them here had ended.

  “I thought maybe you meant in the middle of whatever plots we’ve become ensnared in.” Makan remarked casually.

  “I know where we are in those. We’re caught in the middle of some twisted Aurean scheme to recapture this girl here,” Rolf paused to cast a pained look at Anthea’s sleeping form where she laid in Bedros’ protective arms, “and now we’ve been shipwrecked by a storm that our magnificent captain couldn’t avoid.”

  “You know as well as I that amidst the blowing wind, the mountainous swells, and the heavy rain there was nothing more I could have possibly done to keep that wreck afloat. It was not a vessel built for crossing the seas. It was meant to go out, fish a few Dees at most, and then return if their holds were full or the weather turned poor. We’re lucky we made it to land at all.”

  “Luck? Luck wouldn’t have us on this deserted rock. Luck wouldn’t…” Rolf trailed off.

  Makan gave him a sharp look. “Say it. If you’ve a mind to say something, do it. Don’t skirt the issue. I’ll not have you dwelling on some poisonous thoughts that invite in The Dark Pair. Let’s be out with it and have things said and done.”

  “I’m thinking that we trusted your visions too much. I’m thinking that it was absurd to trust a man who talks to a fish. I’m thinking, Makan, that you overstated your abilities and drove us deeper into the heart of the storm, and had we turned south when I asked to, we might have pulled into the clear.” Rolf said, spilling out the words in a rising crescendo of anger. His anger had only been stirred more by Makan’s mentioning of him giving in to the wishes of The Dark Pair – the evil God Porceth and his wife, the Goddess Wainseth.

  Makan took a deep breath before replying. As he did, he stabbed a finger in the air at Rolf’s chest. “Boy, I will tell you this once, and only once. If you ever refer to Fallu as a fish again, I will spill your entrails out for Fallu and Cainel to see. Believe me in this.”

  Rolf shrunk back with each word, as if Makan’s finger actually poked him in the chest. Bedros grunted in irritation, snorting and gnashing his flat teeth together. He did not like their raised voices, for they made Anthea turn uneasily in his arms.

  “You need to start seeing the better side of things,” Makan said, his words bordering on a direct order, “or you’ll let despair trap you. You need to realize that we could have easily died back in Norsjalde at the inn. We could have been trapped in the harbor. My decoy might not have worked, or Anthea might not have been able to enchant your boat well enough to sneak away.”

  “I’m not denying those events were fortunate, but why did our luck turn?”

  “Rolf, I’m not old, but I am older than you. And in my extra Yarres, I’ve seen that the Gods and Goddesses may lend you a hand now and then or lift a finger slightly to deflect some bad turn of events onto the next person, but they care little for people who cannot make things happen for themselves. They did their part, and now we must deal with what Gandahar has set on our table.”

  Bedros nodded in agreement, which further chastised Rolf. That an Ox-Man could see what he could not was a hard pill to swallow, especially since the Ox-Man’s understanding of Lower Elegian was decidedly limited, even if Anthea had been tutoring him when she had a chance. Rolf tugged angrily at his beard.

  “Faith, Rolf. That’s what we all need now: faith that we will do what we must when we must. Faith, and a good fish spear.” Makan tossed the branch he’d been carving on to Rolf.

  “A fish spear?” Rolf asked, turning the hooked wooden pole over in his hands. It had been cleared of all snags and branches so that the length of it slid freely in his hands.

  “The first order of business anywhere, is to get food in your stomach. Then you can worry about less immediate concerns.” Makan replied, standing with the aid of his own fish-spear, albeit a more ornate and well-used fish-spear.

  “Can you at least tell me where we are then?” Rolf asked, nodding his head to the barren expanse of rocks and water around them.

  “I’d wager much that we’re on the peninsula known as the Empress’ Arm. We’re not on a deserted rock, Rolf. We’re on the northern tip of Elegius.”

  “Elegius.” Rolf repeated the word, disliking the way it sounded. The Elegian Empire was an old enemy of the Kerathi, even if they’d not battled more than infrequently in hundreds of Yarres. Somehow, the air felt a bit cooler then, even if the smoky fire they huddled around was no dimmer than before. He was in the lands of his enemies.

  If he had been leery of lighting a fire before because of the unwanted attention it might draw to them even in as remote of an area as they were in, Rolf found the smoky fire a welcome comfort after an Ouer of spearfishing with Makan. The Mueran was apparently unaffected by chilling winds and cold water, but Rolf couldn’t say the same. Makan had stood stork-still waist-deep among the waves with the patience of a priest. Nothing could disturb his vigil.

  Even when Rolf had tried to spark up a conversation to alleviate the boredom that was encroaching on him, Makan had waved him off and continued to wait for dinner to swim within a spear throw’s distance. And, Rolf found out, a spear’s throw for Makan was no short distance. With the cord tied from the spear’s end to his wrist, Makan had no worries of losing the spear, even when it pierced the water and dove seven or eight Mayters away.

  Now Rolf was no stranger to waiting for food to walk or swim by, but this was a different story entirely. When hunting for himself and for his village, he’d often had to wait for the course of two or three Ouers in a disguised hiding place or a tree blind of some sort. Trying to do the same in the crashing waves and cold wind was an entirely different sort of physical trial. It challenged the body and the mind while sapping energy and patience. After an Ouer, he’d had enough.

  Back at the fire, Rolf was too cold an exhausted to do much more than sit there before the fire and warm himself. He wrapped himself in blankets they’d salvaged from the wreck, blankets that had only dried because the winds had whipped all the water out of them and not because it was warm out. It might still be the Saysuhn of Orange, the time of harvest and changing leaves, but to Rolf it felt more like the Saysuhn of White on that cold beach even if there was no snow to be seen.

  Sitting before that fire with his mind blank of everything except the thought that he was horribly cold, Rolf concluded. He looked across the fire at Makan, who was busy shaving driftwood down into manageable pieces to feed the fire.

  “You took me with you because you wanted me to tire myself out. You wanted me to be too tired to argue any more.”

  Makan didn’t even look up from his work. He simply nodded and continued to slice off slivers of the log with a bone-handled knife that Rolf figured must have been impossibly sharp from the way it was cutting.

  Rolf frowned and looked at the three sizable fish skewered and spitted over the fire, basking in the smoke and heat of their blaze. “You didn’t need me to fish either. I caught nothing. I could have just sat on the shore and waited for you to finish. Yet you saw to it that I froze myself half to death.” Rolf said accusingly, his teeth chattering. “Why?”

  “Because it is important for you to keep busy. Busy hands and tired minds have less time for idle speculation and worrying. I also wanted someone to carry my fish back here for me.” Makan said with a wink, adding, “Even I get tired after battling the waves that long.”

  “Bedros could have carried the fish. I could have taken a turn watching Anthea.” Rolf suggested, looking over at the Ox-Man, who grunted in disapproval. “No one has spelled him since we got here. He hardly leaves her side.”

  Makan cast a look of approval over at Bedros, who still held Anthea in his lap, her limbs curled up against his bulky body. Her hands clutched his fur, singed in places though it was. “I think Bedros is doing an admirably fine job, and as he’s been her protector longer than any of us, I’m quite willing to defer to his expertise in matters of her care. Besides, I don’t think either of us can put out the body heat he does. It’s important she stays warm while she rests.”

  “Rests? I think this is more than just a nap she’s taking. It’s been Dees now.” Rolf remarked critically.

  “For all we know, this is perfectly normal for an enchanter. I’ve never known another so I can’t really say. She’s likely overextended herself at our bidding to protect her safety and ours, and now her body is making her pay for it.”

  Rolf frowned and huddled deeper into his blanket. “She did do three enchantments in one night.”

  “All in proximate time of each other, too.” Makan agreed. “It also doesn’t help that we’ve not seen much of the sun these Dees. We snuck her through a dark city, out of town on a dark boat, and through four Dees of darkened storm skies. Now she lays on a rocky beach with little more than a peek at the sun every Ouer of the Dee.”

  “Surely the fire and the crystal pods help some…”

  Makan nodded. “I’m sure they do. They probably keep her from dying. We can’t forget that her Aurean nature, which seems to be the dominant part of her parentage, requires a significant amount of sunlight.”

  “But those Aureans we fought in the streets and in the inn didn’t.” Rolf pointed out. “They seemed perfectly at home in the night, where Anthea is practically aquiver with fear at the thought of going into the dark night without a strong light source at her side.”

  “I don’t quite understand that myself. Why they seemed unaffected by the dark was beyond me. There was definitely something strange about them though.”

  Bedros snorted again, gnashing his teeth angrily at the memory of fighting the Aureans in the streets of Norsjalde and of the pain they inflicted on him. His flesh still bore the signs of that struggle.

  Everyone grew silent for a moment, caught up in a reminiscent haze. There was little good about that night, except their escape from the danger of the Aureans into the danger of a fierce set of storms.

  “What’s that smell?” A weak voice asked.

  Everyone paused upon hearing Anthea’s voice, as if they’d all imagined the same thing. Bedros’ wide brown eyes concernedly searched Anthea’s face for some sign that she was not well.

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  “Anthea?” Rolf ventured.

  “What’s that smell?” She repeated.

  “Fish. It’s dinner.” Makan answered.

  “Good. Is it ready? I’m famished.” She said weakly, stretching out her limbs and rolling free of Bedros’ wide lap. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in Dees.”

  “That’s because you haven’t.” Makan said with a smile. “You’ve been drinking broth and water whenever we could get you to take it.”

  “Dees? How long has it been?”

  “It’s the fifth of Falling. It’s Fyvesdee.” Rolf answered.

  “We fled on Einsdee, right? How is it Fyvesdee?” Anthea asked, stretching painfully cramped muscles. Then, looking around her with a decidedly displeased look at her surroundings, she shivered and added, “And where are we?”

  Makan fielded this question. “You’ve been unconscious for four Dees. We think you put too much strain on your body. We were caught in a storm, and we were shipwrecked here on Elegius.”

  “Two shipwrecks in about a Munth, right? Three if you count your decoy ship.” Rolf asked.

  Makan shot Rolf a dirty look, but Anthea just laughed, startling them all.

  “What’s so funny?” Makan asked sourly.

  “I’ve just never met a Mueran so prone to shipwrecks, but then you’re the only one I’ve met before. It’s amusing because I’ve always heard about the seamanship of Muerans if I’ve heard anything at all.” She teased warmly.

  Makan grunted. “Tulis and Marceaupo were having a nasty scuffle, perhaps because of the winds and waves you called to help speed my way out of Norsjalde. Whatever the reason, The Kerathi Gap was alive with their angry battle, and we got drawn up in it. Before we were done, we’d battled nearly four Dees of storms. Even if our landing was rough and we lost most of our supplies, we were quite lucky we weren’t swept out into the Outer Seas or dashed on the rocks here.”

  “Here. We’re on Elegius you say? I expected something grander for the so-called birthplace of civilization.” Anthea commented with a sigh. “Perhaps their declarations were a bit self-aggrandizing.”

  “You’re on a mostly deserted arm of the landmass. Trust me, the cities of the Elegian Empire are nothing if not awe-inspiring.” Makan reassured her.

  “The ones we didn’t burn at least.” Rolf remarked proudly, reminding everyone – not that they needed to be told – that the Kerathi were key in the downfall of the Empire hundreds of Yarres ago.

  “Quite true.” Makan admitted. “But stone doesn’t always burn that well, so many of their great temples and masterful works of architecture still stand. They just had to fix them up after the wars ended.”

  “You sound like you like Elegians.” Rolf accused.

  “I merely appreciate the finer points of any culture. Each of the peoples of Elegia has their good and bad sides.” Makan said diplomatically.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Anthea cried, interrupting Rolf before he could reply. He closed his mouth with an audible click of his teeth and let her speak. “I just woke up. Tell me more about what happened. Apparently, I have lost four Dees, practically five since it seems to be evening now and the last thing I remember was the earliest Ouers of Einsdee.”

  “What do you want to know?” Makan asked. “The Dees we spent battling storms were uneventful for anything other than poor weather and an eventual shipwreck.”

  Anthea thought for a moment. “How did you get back to our boat? I can’t remember anything after enchanting our boat while you led the Flier away.”

  Makan smiled at the memory of his rescue. “I thought for a short while I was going to die. The Flier came upon me as I tried to make a run to a small island. They came in close, but I didn’t want them too close, lest they see through our ruse. I threw things at them to keep them back. I recall rather fondly the wobble of the Flier after I startled the pilot.”

  “You threw things at them?” Anthea asked, trying to imagine how that would work.

  “A gaff and maybe other things, too. I didn’t really have any weapons to speak of. Everything happened so fast that I can’t remember it all clearly. I was too busy trying to keep the ship out of their arc-lance fire. They tried to get me to stop. They burned part of the sail but the wind put the fire out. Then they took to blowing holes in the hull.”

  “They must have been angry then, because that would have put me at risk.” Anthea wondered aloud.

  “That or they really didn’t care to capture you.” Rolf said solemnly. “We have to consider that as a possibility now.”

  Makan nodded in agreement. “He’s right, even if it’s not a pleasant thought.”

  Anthea put on a worried expression, causing Bedros to sigh heavily as he scratched at one of his ears. He seemed to be having trouble getting the spot, so Anthea reached over and did it for him. He huffed appreciatively.

  “Things were rough, but after they shot out the rudder, I had no way to steer. I let it go right into the rocks of the island while I slipped off the back of the ship. It was broken into kindling.”

  “But how did you get from there to our ship? Our ship was Kilomes away, heading the opposite direction.”

  “I was floating among the wreckage, and then I sank into the water, not wanting to be spotted. While I hovered there in the cold darkness, I felt something brush past me. When it came by for a second pass, I grabbed on.”

  Anthea smiled in wonderment. “What was it?”

  “An Orca.” Makan answered with a broad smile that split his dark face. “Fallu sent one of his daughters to take me to you.” He pressed a palm to the top of his head in silent reverence.

  Anthea clapped her hands in enjoyment. “I wish I’d seen it.” She turned to Rolf. “Did you see it?”

  Rolf nodded. “Clearly an impressive animal. I’ve never seen the likes of a man riding a beast like that.” He turned to Bedros and offered an apologetic look. “I use the term ‘beast’ loosely.”

  Bedros grinned toothily, his heavy lips sliding up to expose his flat, yellowed teeth.

  “It must have been amazing to ride, yes?” Anthea asked, leaning in as if she could absorb his experiences through mere proximity to his storytelling.

  “It truly was exhilarating. Such an animal is powerful beyond imagination. We traveled at speeds unattainable by most boats.” Makan smiled once more at the memory. “But what of you? I haven’t heard a complete retelling of how you escaped. What did you do to the boat to make it so invisible? I mean, surely, they looked around for other boats escaping, just in case.”

  “I made it black. It and everything on it were black as night for as long as I could manage to hold the enchantment, which seemed to be long enough.”

  “I see. I didn’t see it as black though. The ship looked quite normal to me, or else I’d likely have missed it. Maybe the enchantment had already worn off.”

  “Ah, but that’s because you weren’t an enemy. Only those who wished us harm or harbored us no good will would see it as such.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “You mean, what did I use to enchant it?”

  Makan nodded. “Yes, and what were the words? Can you remember?” “I never remember the words. They just come out. I only recall what I wished to accomplish. The words are given to me from the Gods, I think. They just come into my mind when I concentrate on what I wish to do.” Anthea replied, shrugging.

  “Strange.”

  “I used a sunflower. It’s good for false appearances.”

  “I remember the words.” Rolf announced, cutting into their conversation.

  Anthea looked at him in surprise, while Makan regarded him in interest.

  “Can you recite them?” Makan asked.

  Rolf frowned. “They won’t do any harm if I just say them, will they?”

  Anthea shook her head. “No, you must focus your will and the energy of the plant you have grown, cared for, or handled. The words are just an auxiliary component as far as I know.”

  “Sunflower, grant me the power; to hide and obscure us, from those that make us cower. A dark shroud, as if in a cloud, to take us beyond that which they would allow.” Rolf intoned.

  “Strange.” Anthea commented. “I don’t recall those words at all.”

  “The words are probably less important than what happens when you say them, I suppose.” Makan suggested.

  “And right now, that’s all less important than relieving myself. After which, I plan to eat at least half of the fish you have there.” Anthea announced, excusing herself to find a bit of privacy.

  “After four Dees I’d have to go as well.” Makan offered as explanation.

  The three of them laughed mirthfully while Anthea saw to her needs. Thinking back on the lessons Makan had tried to teach him earlier, Rolf realized that it was important to find humor in the simplest of things when life got too serious.

  ?????

  “Where do we go nextdee?” Rolf asked, voicing the question on everyone’s minds.

  Bedros looked from face to face, his thick neck stiff as he moved his upper body to face each person. A cascade of strange expressions ran across the man-beast’s face. Makan watched the Ox-Man with interest. Rarely did he show so much desire to express himself, as clearly, he did now.

  “I’ve thought on that and I must say that I still believe our destination is Aetheline.” Anthea said at last, huddling toward the fire more for light than warmth. Her face glowed healthily in the flickering firelight.

  “I know that’s always been your destination, but have you given a thought to the fact that they might not care to see you there? Or maybe they’d like to see you there, because they can capture you. It seems like you’ve escaped enemy hands only to walk willingly into their arms.” Rolf observed bitterly.

  Makan nodded. “I can’t help but agree. What exactly is it you hope to find in Aetheline? You must know that our path with you ends there, right? Aureans certainly won’t harbor lowlander fugitives among their kind, even if they do accept you.”

  “I don’t want to leave you all behind, but you have to know that my father must come first.” Anthea replied.

  “And if your father isn’t there?” Makan asked, earning a nod from Rolf.

  Anthea swallowed hard. “Then I’m alone in the world.”

  Bedros huffed.

  “Well, not alone. I’m just without family. I have no brothers or sisters, and both my father and my mother will be dead then. I’m far too young to be an orphan.”

  Makan frowned. “I don’t think there’s ever an appropriate or opportune age to become an orphan. Let’s focus on the hope that your father escaped or that he had some reason for you to go to Aetheline. If he planned at all, he would have had something waiting for you and him in Aetheline – allies maybe.”

  “You’re right. He planned for everything. I know he did. He must have.” Anthea said, but they all hear the waiver of doubt in her voice.

  “What about the enchantment that led you to us? Have you had any more visions or intuitions about where to go? Signs even?” Makan queried.

  “I have an inkling to go south.” Anthea replied. “Something tells me we’ll find a settlement there.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.” Makan admitted. “I believe I’ve seen one on maps. It’s supposedly a place of near exile for those who have displeased the Empress, or something of that sort. I’m not really certain.”

  “And we want to visit those people?” Rolf asked incredulously. “They seem like undesirables.”

  “It makes sense. Think about it. We ourselves are undesirables, and we’re sure to attract less attention in a third-rate city full of the disgraced than in a city full of the high end of society. We’ll stick out less among the lesser folk.” Makan explained.

  “Yet sometimes you’re most invisible in plain sight. The high and mighty might not deign to notice lesser creatures such as us.” Rolf argued.

  Anthea held up her hands, forestalling any argument between the two. “You do have a point, both of you, but I must follow where the enchantment leads me. If being attacked, hunted down, and waking up shipwrecked after Dees of being unconscious is to be considered fortunate, we have not yet been led astray. We have had all the right people for each situation so far. Perhaps this city of misfits will offer us more than we could hope for?”

  “Is there a chance you missed a sign when you were asleep?” Rolf asked.

  Anthea shook her head. “I don’t think so. I hadn’t thought of that though. I think if it were something important enough, it would keep telling me.”

  “Unless you missed the opportunity.” Makan pondered, troubled by the line of thought that Rolf had begun.

  “Let’s not think like that. Please?” Anthea pleaded, her brow furrowed with worry.

  Bedros grunted and began to gesture quickly to Anthea, a series of facial expressions and hand movements that neither Makan nor Rolf could fully comprehend. Anthea nodded a couple times before he finished, and then she turned back to her expectant companions.

  “He says we may pass by Ox-Men lands on the way Aetheline and wants to stop if we can. He’s rather… excited… I guess, by the possibility of meeting some of his kind that are not servants of another race.”

  “You mean a herd?” Rolf asked.

  Anthea shrugged. “I’ve never met or seen wild Ox-Men, if wild is the term to use.” Seeing Bedros’ expression over her choice in words, she said, “Free I guess would be more appropriate. I’m not sure if they should be called a herd either, since they’re not cattle.”

  “If we’re carried past it, I don’t see a reason not to stop, other than expediency’s sake. But you are in charge here. We are following you.” Makan declared, amazed for not the first time that a girl so young held the fate of four in her hands.

  Bedros nodded in approval, folding his heavy arms across his coarsely furred chest.

  “We’ll just have to see.” Anthea said tiredly. “We leave nextdee morning though, alright?”

  “Good.” Rolf replied. “I tire of sitting on this cold beach.”

  “You don’t want to stay and spearfish for a few more Dees?” Makan asked, grinning.

  Rolf grunted and made a sour look and then took to polishing and cleaning the one of his father’s pair of rifles that remained in his possession. Saltwater wasn’t kind to rifles, or to sabres and knives.

  They said little more before passing into the realm of sleep, but Bedros’ urgent request weighed on Makan’s mind. He couldn’t help but wonder what would make the Ox-Man make a personal request at this point in their journeys. What was important enough that they could stop and risk giving Genero and the Aureans more time to search for them? Even if they were thought dead, Makan had a feeling that the Aureans would be thorough in searching for them, just in case they were mistaken.