Firstborn

14 — While the Speaker Dined

The Wildwood slowly regained its lively character. No longer was there that absence of animal life that Kith-Kanan had found so puzzling when he first arrived. Daily, deer came to graze in the clearing. Rabbits and squirrels cavorted in and around the trees. Birds other than the ubiquitous corvae appeared. Bears, boars, and panthers roared in the night. As Mackeli had said, they’d been warned of the humans. Now that the humans were gone, the animals had returned.

On this particular day, Mackeli wedged his tongue between his teeth and concentrated on lashing an arrowhead to a shaft. Kith-Kanan was teaching him the bow now. It was not something to which the boy took readily. As he tied off the end of the whipcord, the flint arrowhead sagged badly out of line.

“That’s not tight enough,” Kith-Kanan cautioned. He handed the boy his dagger. “Start again and make it tight.”

Neither of them had seen Anaya for over a week. It didn’t bother Mackeli a whit, but Kith-Kanan found himself missing the strange forest woman. He wondered if he should go and look for her. Mackeli said, and Kith-Kanan did not doubt, that the prince would never find her unless she wanted to be found.

“What do you do if you need her in a hurry?” Kith-Kanan asked ingeniously. “I mean, suppose you got hurt or something. How would you call her?”

“If I really need Ny, she knows it and comes for me.” Mackeli had almost finished his tying of the arrow.

“You mean, you just will her to come, and—she does?”

The boy knotted the tough silk string. “Mostly.” With a proud smile, he handed Kith-Kanan the newly lashed arrow. Kith shook it to see if the head would loosen. It didn’t. “Good,” he said, handing the arrow back. “You only need twenty more to fill your quiver.”

Late the next afternoon the Wildwood rang with laughter and splashing as Kith-Kanan and Mackeli swam in the pool. Mackeli was progressing well under the prince’s tutelage, so they had decided to finish their day with a swim in the crystal waters.

Mackeli was treading water and looking around the pool for Kith-Kanan. The boy was a better swimmer than his sister, but not so skilled as the elf prince.

“Where’d you go, Kith?” he said, eyeing the surface of the water uncertainly. Suddenly a hand closed on his left ankle and Mackeli gave a yelp. He found himself lifted up and launched skyward. Laughing and yelling all the way, he flew several feet and landed back in the pool with a loud splash. He and Kith-Kanan surfaced at the same time.

“It’s not fair,” Mackeli said, flinging his streaming hair from his eyes. “You’re bigger than me!”

Kith-Kanan grinned. “You’ll catch up someday, Keli,” he said. Twisting gracefully in the water, the prince turned and swam toward the granite ledge on shore.

As Kith-Kanan hoisted himself up on the ledge, Mackeli called to him, “I want to learn to swim like you. You move like a fish!”

“Another result of my misspent youth.” Kith-Kanan stretched out full length on the warm ledge and closed his eyes.

Minutes later, something moved to block the sunlight. Without opening his eyes, Kith-Kanan said, “I know you’re there, Keli. I heard you walk up. You’d better not—Hey!”

With a cry, the prince sat up. A very sharp spear point had been poked into his bare stomach. Squinting in the bright light, he looked up. Several pairs of moccasin-clad feet were gathered around Kith-Kanan, and their owners—four dark figures—loomed over him.

“Mackeli, my sword!” he called, leaping to his feet.

The boy, still in the pool, looked at his friend and laughed. “Calm down, Kith! It’s only White-Lock.”

Kith-Kanan stared. Shading his eyes, he realized that the four dark figures were Kagonesti males. They were brown-skinned, hard-muscled, and wore breechcloths of deerskin. Bows, quivers of arrows, and deerskin bags were slung over their muscled backs. Their exposed skin was covered by red, yellow, and blue loops and whorls of paint.

The tallest of the four—he topped Kith-Kanan by several inches—had a streak of white in his midnight-black hair. He and his comrades were looking at the Silvanesti nobleman with amused curiosity.

Naked and still damp from his swim, Kith-Kanan drew the tattered shreds of his dignity about himself. He pulled on his clothes as Mackeli came out of the pool and greeted the four strange elves.

“Blessings of Astarin upon you, White-Lock, you and yours,” Mackeli said. He placed his hands over his heart and then held them in front of him, palms up.

The Kagonesti called White-Lock repeated the gesture. “And upon you, Mackeli,” he said to the boy, in a deep and solemn voice, though he continued to watch Kith-Kanan. “Do you now bring the Settled Ones to the sacred forests?”

Kith-Kanan knew that the term “Settled Ones” was meant as an insult. The Kagonesti were nomadic and never built permanent habitations. Before he could retort, Mackeli said, “Kith is my friend and my guest, White-Lock. Do the People no longer value courtesy to guests?”

A smile quirked White-Lock’s lips and he said, “Blessings of Astarin upon you, guest of Mackeli.”

“Would you and your hunting party honor me with a visit, White-Lock?” Mackeli asked. He pulled his clothes on.

White-Lock glanced at his companions. Kith-Kanan neither saw nor heard any exchange between them, but the tall Kagonesti said, “My companions and I do not wish to intrude upon the Keeper of the Forest.”

“It is no intrusion,” Mackeli replied politely.

Kith-Kanan was mildly surprised at the change that seemed to have come over the irrepressible boy. He spoke to the Kagonesti in a very composed and adult manner. They, in turn, treated him with great respect. Mackeli went on. “The keeper is away at present. Were she here, I know she would wish to make you welcome. Come, we can share stories. I have had a great adventure since we last met.”

White-Lock looked once more to his three companions. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded and they all set out for the clearing.

As they walked, Kith-Kanan brought up the rear and studied these new acquaintances. In his travels around the western provinces of Silvanesti, he had met several Kagonesti. Those elves, however, had given up their nomadic and isolated ways to trade with the humans and Silvanesti who lived in the West. Many of them no longer painted their bodies, and they wore civilized clothing. These four were obviously not of that ilk.

As they made their way to the clearing, Mackeli introduced Kith-Kanan to the others in the group. There was Sharp-Eye, brown-haired and some inches shorter than White-Lock; Braveheart, who had sandy hair; and Otter. The latter was shorter than the rest, a head shorter than Kith-Kanan, and his pale yellow eyes twinkled with inner mirth. He was the only one who smiled outright at the elf prince. It was a merry smile, and Kith-Kanan returned it.

In the clearing, Mackeli bade them all be seated by the oak. He went inside and returned shortly with nuts, berries, and fruit. White-Lock took only a handful of red berries, though his comrades dug in with gusto.

“So, guest of Mackeli, how do you come to be in the wildwood?” White-Lock asked, staring at the Silvanesti prince.

Kith-Kanan frowned. “I am a traveler, White-Lock. And my name is Kith. You would honor me by using it,” he replied testily.

White-Lock nodded and looked pleased. Kith-Kanan remembered then that the more primitive Kagonesti didn’t believe it was polite to use a person’s name unless they’d been given leave to. He cudgeled his brain, trying to recall what else he knew about their race.

“White-Lock!” called a startled voice behind Kith-Kanan. “What in the name of the forest is this?”

They turned. The one called Otter was standing at the far end of the clearing, staring in awe at Arcuballis. The griffon was lying in the shade of a big tree. The beast opened one golden eye and regarded the amazed Kagonesti.

“That is Arcuballis,” Kith-Kanan said proudly. With an inward smile, he uttered a sharp whistle. Arcuballis got quickly to its feet, and Otter nearly fell over backward as he stumbled away from the tall beast. Kith-Kanan gave another whistle, at first high-pitched, then sliding down the scale. The griffon unfolded its wings to their full extent and uttered a trilling call in imitation of Kith-Kanan’s whistle. Otter jumped back again. At another whistle from the prince, Arcuballis folded its wings and made its way daintily across the clearing, coming to a stop several feet from the group.

Kith-Kanan was pleased to see that even White-Lock looked impressed. The Kagonesti leader told Otter to rejoin the group. “What is this beast, Kith?” White-Lock asked wonderingly.

“Arcuballis is a griffon. He’s my mount and my friend.” Kith-Kanan whistled once more and Arcuballis lay down where it was. In seconds, the beast closed its eyes in sleep again.

“He is beautiful, Kith!” Otter said enthusiastically. “He flies?”

“He does indeed.”

“I should be honored if you would take me for a ride!”

“Otter,” White-Lock said sharply.

Regret replaced the joy on Otter’s face, and he subsided. Kith-Kanan smiled kindly at the yellow-eyed elf as the Kagonesti called Sharp-Eye spoke into the silence.

“Mackeli, you said you had a tale to share,” he said. “Tell us of your great adventure.”

All four Kagonesti settled down to listen. Even Otter tore his gaze from Arcuballis and gave his full attention to Mackeli. The Kagonesti were great ones for storytelling, Kith-Kanan knew. They rarely, if ever, wrote anything down. Their history, their news, all was passed orally from one generation to the next. If they liked Mackeli’s story, it would be swapped between tribes until years hence, when it might be heard by every Kagonesti on Krynn.

Mackeli’s green eyes widened. He looked at each of them in turn and began his story. “I was kidnapped by an evil wizard named Voltorno,” he said softly.

Kith-Kanan shook his head bemusedly. Mackeli finally had a fresh audience for his tale. And the boy didn’t let them down. None of the four Kagonesti moved so much as a finger during Mackeli’s long recital of his kidnap, the pursuit by Kith-Kanan and Anaya, and the prince’s duel with Voltorno. The silence was broken only by Otter’s exclamation of triumph when Mackeli told how he and Kith-Kanan had flown away from Voltorno’s men on Arcuballis.

When the story was finished, the Kagonesti looked at Kith-Kanan with new respect. The prince preened slightly, sitting up straighter.

“You fought well against the humans, Kith,” Sharp-Eye concluded. The other Kagonesti nodded.

“We are sorry to have missed the Keeper of the Forest, Mackeli,” White-Lock said. “To see the keeper is a great honor and pleasure. She walks with the gods and speaks with great wisdom.”

A snort of laughter was surprised out of Kith-Kanan. “Anaya?” he exclaimed in disbelief. He was immediately sorry. The Kagonesti, including the fun-loving Otter, turned looks of stern reproach upon him.

“You are disrespectful of the keeper, Kith.” White-Lock glowered.

“I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect,” Kith-Kanan said apologetically. “White-Lock, I’m curious. I’ve met Kagonesti elves before but they weren’t like you. They were more—uh.”

“Where did you meet these others?” White-Lock cut in.

“In the West,” replied Kith-Kanan. “The western provinces of Silvanesti.”

“Settled Ones,” Sharp-Eye said with much disgust. Braveheart rubbed his hands together as if washing them, then flung them away from himself.

“Those you met have taken up the ways of the Settled Ones,” said White-Lock, his voice hard. “They have turned their backs on the true ways.”

Kith-Kanan was surprised by the loathing they all expressed. Deciding it did not behoove him to anger Mackeli’s friends, he changed the subject. “Braveheart, how did you come by your name?”

Braveheart gestured to White-Lock. Kith-Kanan wondered if he’d committed another social breach by inquiring about the Kagonesti’s name. White-Lock, though, didn’t seem upset. He answered, “Braveheart was born mute, but his skill as a hunter and fighter earned him his adult name.” Amusement danced in the hunter’s eyes. “Are all your people so curious, Kith?”

Kith-Kanan looked chagrined. “No, White-Lock. My curiosity has gotten me in trouble before.”

They all laughed, and the four Kagonesti hunters stood up. White-Lock brought his hands up to cover his heart and then held them out palms-up, first to Mackeli and then to Kith-Kanan. The boy and the prince returned the gesture.

“The blessings of Astarin upon you both,” White-Lock said warmly. “Give our respects to the keeper.”

“We shall, White-Lock. Blessings upon you all,” Mackeli returned.

“Good-bye” Kith-Kanan called after them. With a last wave from Otter, the hunters disappeared into the forest.

Mackeli gathered up the uneaten food and stowed it back in the tree. Kith-Kanan remained standing, looking after the departed Kagonesti.

“They’re a strange lot,” Kith-Kanan mused aloud. “And they certainly don’t care for their more ‘settled’ brothers. I thought the others I met were a lot less primitive.” He chuckled. “And the way they talked about Anaya—as if she were a goddess!”

“They are good elves,” Mackeli said when he returned. “They only want to live in peace with the forest, as they have for centuries. But most humans treat them like savages.” The green eyes that looked up at Kith-Kanan were hard. “And from what you’ve told me about your people, the Silvanesti do no better.”

Several more weeks went by. The episode of the Kagonesti stayed with Kith-Kanan, and he continued to think on Mackeli’s words. However, he was growing more and more worried about Anaya. He questioned Mackeli, but the boy remained unconcerned. Though Kith-Kanan knew she could take care of herself, he still fretted. At night, he began to dream of her deep in the woods, calling to him, saying his name over and over. He would then follow her voice through the black forest, but just when he thought he’d found her, he would wake up. It was frustrating.

After a time Anaya began to monopolize his waking thoughts as well. The prince had told her he was her friend. Was it more than that? What Kith-Kanan felt for the Kagonesti woman was certainly different from what he felt for Mackeli. Could he be in love with her? They had barely gotten to know each other before she’d disappeared. But still the prince worried about her, and dreamed about her, and missed her.

Kith-Kanan and Mackeli were sleeping outside the tree one pleasant night. The prince slept deeply and, for once, dreamlessly—until something unseen tugged at his mind. He opened his eyes and sat bolt-upright, turning his head from side to side. It was as if a sudden clap of thunder had wakened him. Yet Mackeli slept on beside him. Night creatures chirped and whirred softly in the forest, also undisturbed.

Kith-Kanan straightened his tunic—for he slept fully clothed—and lay back down. He was completely awake when the nameless something called to him once more. Drawn by something he couldn’t see, the prince got up and crossed the clearing. The going was not easy, since the silver moon had set and the red moon was almost down. It was an eerie crimson orb just barely visible through the trees.

Kith-Kanan followed the path to the spring. Whatever was pulling him brought him to that place, but when he arrived, there seemed to be no one around. He dipped a hand in the cold water and threw it on his face.

As the Silvanesti prince stared at his reflection in the pool, a second dark image appeared in the water next to it. Kith-Kanan leaped back and turned, his hand on his dagger hilt. It was Anaya, standing a few feet away.

“Anaya!” he uttered with relief. “You’re all right. Where have you been?”

“You called me,” she said evenly. Her eyes seemed to have a light of their own. “Your call was very strong. I couldn’t stay away, no matter how I tried.”

Kith-Kanan shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said truthfully.

She stepped closer and looked up into his eyes. Her unpainted face was beautiful in the red moonlight. “Your heart spoke to mine, Kith, and I could not refuse to come. We were drawn together.”

At that moment, Kith-Kanan thought he did understand. The idea that hearts could speak to each other was something he had heard about. His people were said to be able to perform a mysterious summons known as “the Call.” It was said to work over great distances and was reputed to be irresistible. Yet Kith-Kanan had never known anyone who had actually done it.

He stepped closer and put a hand to her cheek. Anaya was trembling.

“Are you afraid?” he asked quietly.

“I have never felt like this before,” she whispered.

“How do you feel?”

“I want to run!” she declared loudly. But she didn’t move an inch.

“You called to me too, you know. I was asleep in the clearing just now and something woke me, something drew me down here to the spring. I couldn’t resist it.” Her cheek was warm, despite the coolness of the night. He cupped it in his hand. “Anaya, I have been so worried about you. When you didn’t come back, I thought something might have happened to you.”

“Something did,” she replied softly. “All these weeks, I have been meditating and thinking of you. So many feelings were tumbling inside of me.”

“I have been troubled also,” the prince confessed. “I’ve lain awake at night trying to sort out my feelings.” He smiled at her. “You’ve even intruded on my dreams, Anaya.”

Her face twisted in pain. “It isn’t right.”

“Why not? Am I so unappealing?”

“I am born of the forest! For ten times the length of your life I have lived in the Wildwood, on my own and of my own. I did not take Mackeli until a short time ago.”

“Take Mackeli? Then, he is not your brother by blood, is he?”

Anaya looked at Kith-Kanan desperately. “No. I took him from a farmer’s house. I was lonely. I needed someone to talk to….”

The emptiness in her eyes, the pain in her voice, touched Kith-Kanan’s heart. He gripped Anaya’s shoulders with both hands. In return, she put her arms around his waist and embraced him passionately.

After a moment, Anaya pulled back and said softly, “I want to show you something.” She stepped into the pool.

“Where are we going?” he asked as he joined her in the cool spring.

“To my secret place.” She took his hand and warned, “Don’t let go.”

They slid under the water’s surface. It was as cold and as black as Takhisis’s heart in the pool, but Anaya swam down, kicking with her feet. Something hard brushed Kith-Kanan’s shoulder; he put a hand out and felt solid rock. They were in a tunnel. After a moment, Anaya planted her feet on the bottom and thrust upward. Kith-Kanan let himself be pulled along. Suddenly their heads broke the surface.

Treading water, Kith-Kanan looked around in wonder. A soft, white light illuminated a vaulted ceiling that rose some fifteen feet above the pool’s surface. The ceiling was smooth and pure white. All around the edge of the vault were painted the most beautiful murals Kith-Kanan had ever seen. They showed a variety of woodland scenes: misty glens, roaring waterfalls, and deep, dark forests.

“Come,” Anaya said, drawing him along by the hand. He kicked forward until his toes bumped rock. It was not the sloping bottom of a natural pool. Kith-Kanan felt round-nosed steps cut into the rock as he and Anaya climbed out of the water.

The steps and floor of the cave were made of the same stone as the ceiling, a glassy white rock Kith-Kanan couldn’t identify.

The cave itself was divided down the center by a row of graceful columns, deeply fluted and tapering to their tops. They appeared to be joined solidly into the floor and ceiling.

Anaya let go of his hand and let him wander forward on his own. He went to the source of the gentle white light, the third column in from the water’s edge. A subtle glow and warmth emanated from the column.

Hesitantly Kith-Kanan put out a hand to touch the translucent stone.

He turned to the Kagonesti, smiling. “It feels alive!”

“It is,” she beamed,

The walls to the right of the colonnade were decorated with remarkable bas-reliefs, raised carvings that depicted elven women. There were four of them, life-sized, and between each relief was a carving of a different type of tree.

Anaya stood close beside the prince, and he put an arm around her waist. “What do these mean?” he said, gesturing at the reliefs.

“These were the Keepers of the Forest,” she said proudly “Those that came before me. They lived as I live now, guarding the Wildwood from harm.” Anaya went to the image farthest from the pool. “This was Camirene. She was Keeper of the Forest before me.” Anaya moved to the right, to the next figure. “This was Ulyante.” She slipped sideways to the third figure. “Here is Delarin. She died driving a dragon from the wildwood.” Anaya touched the warm stone relief lightly with her fingertips. Kith-Kanan regarded the carved image with awe.

“And this,” Anaya said, facing the figure nearest the pool, “is Ziatia, first guardian of the wildwood.” She put her hands together and bowed to the image. Kith-Kanan looked from one relief to the next.

“It is a beautiful place,” he said with awe.

“When I am troubled, I come here to rest and think,” Anaya said, gesturing around her.

“Is this where you’ve been these past weeks?” he asked.

“Yes. Here, and in the wildwood. I—I watched you sleep many nights.” She looked deep into his eyes.

Kith-Kanan could hardly take it all in. This beautiful cave, the many answers it provided and the mysteries it held. It was like the beautiful elf woman before him. She had provided him with answers this night, but in her deep eyes were even more mysteries and questions unanswered. For now, he gave himself up to the joy he felt, the joy at finding someone who cared for him, someone that he cared for. And he did care for her.

“I think I love you, Anaya,” Kith-Kanan said tenderly, caressing her cheek.

She laid her head on his chest. “I begged the Forestmaster to send you away, but she would not. ‘You must make the decision’ she said.” She clasped Kith-Kanan with frightening strength.

He tilted her face up to his and bent down to kiss her. Anaya was no soft and timid elf maiden. The hard life of the wildwood had made her tough and strong, but as they kissed, Kith-Kanan could feel the tremors echoing through her body.

She broke the kiss. “I will not be a casual love,” she vowed, and her eyes bored into his. “If we are to be together, you must swear to be mine always.”

Kith-Kanan remembered how he had searched for her in his dreams, how frightened and alone he’d felt when he couldn’t find her. “Yes, Anaya. Always. I wish I still had my starjewel, but Voltorno took it with my other belongings. I wish I could give it to you.” She did not understand, and he explained the significance of the starjewel.

She nodded. “We have no jewels to give in the wildwood. We make our most sacred vows in blood.” She took his hand and knelt by the pool, drawing him down beside her. Laying her palm against the sharp edge of the rock, she pressed down hard. When she pulled her hand back, it was bleeding. Kith-Kanan hesitated a moment, then he too cut his hand on the hard, glassy rock. They joined hands once more, pressing the wounds together. The blood of the Silvanesti House Royal flowed together with that of the forest-born Kagonesti.

Anaya plunged their joined hands into the water. “By blood and water, by soil and sky, by leaf and limb, I swear to love and keep you, Kith, for as long as I walk, for as long as I breathe.”

“By Astarin and E’li, I swear to love and keep you, Anaya, for all my life.” Kith-Kanan felt light-headed, as if a great weight had been taken from him. Perhaps it was the weight of his anger, laid across his shoulders when he’d left Silvanost in a rage.

Anaya drew their hands out of the water, and the cuts were healed. While he marveled at this, she said, “Come.”

Together they moved to the rear of the cave, away from the pool. There, the glassy stone walls ended. In their place was a solid wall of tree roots, great twining masses of them. A sunken place in the floor, oval-shaped, was lined with soft furs.

Slowly, very slowly, she sank into the furs, looking up at him with eyes full of love. Kith-Kanan felt his heart beat faster as he sat beside his love and took her hands into his. Raising them to his lips, he whispered, “I didn’t know.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know that this is what love truly feels like.” He smiled and leaned closer to her. Her breath was warm in his face. “And,” he added gently, “I didn’t know that you were anything but a wild maiden, one who liked to live in the woods.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” said Anaya.

She and Kith-Kanan talked of many things in the night and day they spent in the secret cave. He told her of Hermathya and of Sithas, and he felt his heart lighten as he confessed all. The anger and frustration were gone as if they’d never existed. The youthful passion he’d felt for Hermathya was completely unlike the deep love he now felt for Anaya. He knew there were those in Silvanost who would not understand his love for a Kagonesti. Even his own family would be shocked, he was sure.

But he didn’t dwell on that. He filled his mind with only good thoughts, happy thoughts.

One thing Kith-Kanan insisted upon, and to which Anaya eventually agreed, was that she tell Mackeli of his true origins. When they left the cave and returned to the oak tree, they found the boy sitting on a low branch, eating his evening meal.

When he saw the couple, he jumped from the branch and landed lightly in front of them. He took in their happy faces and the fact that they walked hand-in-hand, and demanded, “Are you two finally friends?”

Anaya and Kith-Kanan looked at each other, and a rare thing happened. Anaya smiled. “We are much more than friends,” she said sweetly.

The three of them sat down with their backs to the broad oak’s trunk. As Anaya told Mackeli the truth about his past, the sun dodged in and out of the clouds and red autumn leaves fell around them.

“I’m not your brother?” Mackeli asked when she had finished.

“You are my brother,” Anaya replied firmly, “but we are not of the same blood.”

“And if I was taken from my parents,” he went on slowly, “who were you taken from, Ny?”

“I don’t know, and I never shall. Camirene took me from my mother and father, just as I took you.” She looked to the ground, embarrassed. “I needed a girl child to be the next Keeper of the Forest. I moved so hastily, I didn’t take time to notice that you were a boy.”

Kith-Kanan put an arm on Mackeli’s shoulder. “You won’t be too angry?”

Mackeli stood up and walked slowly away from them. His ever-present hood slipped down, revealing his white, Silvanesti hair. “It’s all so strange,” he said, confused. “I’ve never known any other life than the one I’ve had in the wildwood.” He looked at Anaya. “I guess I’m not angry. I’m…stunned. I wonder what I would have been if I—if Anaya.”

“A farmer,” said Anaya. “Your parents were farmers. They grew vegetables.”

She went on to explain that once she realized she’d taken a boy-child instead of a girl, she tried to return the infant Mackeli to his parents, but their house was abandoned when she went back. So she had raised Mackeli as her brother.

Mackeli still seemed dazed by the tale of his abduction, Finally he asked, rather hesitantly, “Will you have to find a girl to raise to be keeper after you?”

Anaya looked beyond him to Kith-Kanan. “No. This time the Keeper of the Forest will give birth to her successor.” Kith-Kanan held out a hand to her. When she took it, Mackeli quietly clasped his small hands around both of theirs.