The Sorcery Within

XIV

As they approached, parrots glided from tree to tree, their bright colors almost shocking to behold after the drab country the tribe had just covered. Jungle was more accurate a description than forest. Life abounded. The trees were high, broad hardwoods, their shade the parent of climbing vines, elephant grass, shrubs, giant ferns – all without exception vibrant with the green born of plentiful water. The racket of birds, insects, and small animals never ceased.

Most of all, it smelled like life, Alemar decided. Strange that his senses were so attuned to the scent after only a month in the desert.

The caravan did not enter the jungle. The road from the Pass of Hattyre to the Ahloorm had run almost due east across the valley, but now that the river had been reached, the long line of men and livestock turned north, travelling parallel to the heavy growth, along a deeply cut track that ran to either horizon. Occasional stone markers demarcated the road boundaries and measured the distance. Periodically trails merged with the main highway, but always from the west. The only ways heading into the jungle were no more than footpaths.

The shepherds let their flocks range freely in the wide grasslands extending toward the left, which they had first reached the previous day. However, the animals were prevented from feeding on the eastern side, beyond what they could nibble from the fringe of the road as they passed.

"The forest of Ahloorm is sacred," Fumlok explained. "Do not let sheep and goats inside. Do not cut living wood."

Po-no-pha of the three clans disappeared periodically into the foliage to hunt, observed with envy by the twins. The hunters brought back all manner of game, particularly birds, though the most heralded prize was wild boar. Women, including Peyri and Omi, were allowed to enter and pick berries and melons. The first evening, Shigmur invited the twins and their family to share the pork his women had roasted.

On the second day, the T'lan split from the group, heading back toward the west. The twins could see an oasis on the horizon, one of many fed by the Ahloorm's subterranean branches. The parting provided an excuse for celebration – the dangers of the migration were behind them, and now they had reached the richest of their many pasturage regions, in a year of good rains. The festivities lasted an entire night and day, the T'lan families leaving one by one for different sections of the range, with a large assembly accompanying the ken directly to the oasis.

Two days later, the Ena copied the pattern, leaving the T'krt to continue north.

Elenya sat on the ground with her back to one of the magnificenthoeanaou trees around which the clan had camped. She stared at the forest. The sun filtered through small open patches in the canopy but had yet to climb above the tops of the trees and shine directly on the tents. Alemar still slept, and the women were ignoring their odd husband.

"Good morning."

She recognized his boots out of the corner of her eye but continued to meditate on the distant leaves. "So – the war-leader deigns to converse with someone who doesn't know the laws of battle."

"I even converse with children and infidels," he said. "How is your wound?"

She smiled impishly. "What wound?"

"In your shoulder," he said. She enjoyed his puzzled expression. "You were hurt in the Buyul raid."

"Was I?"

"Yes. I saw the cut myself. Your robe is still stained." He pointed to the brown section of cloth. But in silent dispute, Elenya pulled open the top of her garment. Where the cut should have been, Lonal could see only a scar, already healed.

Lonal's face clouded. "Have there been Hab-no-ken in the camp without my knowledge?"

"No. As a matter of fact, my brother and I have never seen one since coming to this country."

"Then how did you heal so quickly?"

Again the smile. "It pleases me not to tell you," she said. "Now, do you have business here? I was enjoying the view alone."

"Do you want to see the forest?" he asked.

She looked at him. He carried a quiver and bow, toward which he gestured. "Bring your own and follow me." He turned and headed straight for the river.

His abruptness caught her off guard, but by the time he vanished from view of the tribe, she was one step behind him.

Almost from the first, the soil was spongy. As it became even less firm, Elenya realized they were not walking on ground at all, but on a network of plant growth. She had wondered where the river was. At no point in their journey had they seen an open flow. Now she knew that the forestwas the river. The plants were the banks; if not for their roots, the water would spread over the plain and evaporate, never even coming close to the sea. They had to travel single file most of the time, sometimes cutting their way through vines and brambles. Lonal didn't speak, and Elenya was far too distracted by the scenery to initiate conversation herself.

They penetrated deep into the area, until the land grew so swamplike it threatened to swallow them unless they placed every foot with extreme care. The surroundings opened up, the ubiquitous shrubs unable to find permanent foundations from which to grow, leaving a swath of territory to the water grasses and trees. The whole place hummed with insect life.

"I propose a contest," Lonal said. He strung his bow, indicating that Elenya should do the same. They had found a comfortable spot to rest on a small island of solid ground.

"I will shoot a bird. See if you can hit the same bird with your own arrow, before I can hit it a second time."

He hardly had the words out of his mouth before he grabbed an arrow and let fly. A parrot above screamed and began to flutter earthward. An instant later, it jerked with the impact of another arrow. Before it landed, two more shafts had knocked it this way and that in the air.

Lonal got his legs wet up to the shins in order to retrieve the bird. It bristled with all four arrows, every one firmly lodged in its plump torso. There probably wouldn't have been room for another.

"Not bad," he said. Two of the arrows were his own, marked with a red line down the side of the shaft; two were Elenya's, with a double yellow band just short of the nock. "Now it's your turn."

She smiled. Unlike him, she nocked her arrow serenely and waited, with bow relaxed, for a suitable target. She ignored three likely choices. Then a queeble launched from a low branch. She waited until just before it passed behind a tree, then let loose. The trunk obscured the result.

A moment later, Lonal fired. The arrow caught the queeble just as it reappeared, only a moment before it nose-dived into the grass.

Elenya found it. Her own point had struck the hindquarters. Lonal's shot had gone through one eye and out the other.

"You like to cheat, don't you?" Lonal said.

"Always." Elenya smiled, graciously acknowledging that this time it hadn't worked. "That was a superb shot."

"I have had a lot of practice. You were introduced to this weapon only a month ago."

"I learn quickly."

"Let us hope so," he said.

They sat on a log. Lonal held up the first bird and pulled out a bloody arrow tip. "Imagine that this was a man."

"I don't follow you," she said.

Lonal removed all the arrows, gave Elenya her own to wipe off, and dropped the carcass between them. It was little more than a mass of blood, feathers, and ruptured meat. "We did this from a distance, in a matter of moments. Suppose we had been shooting at a man. Better yet, at four different men. It's not hard to imagine four corpses in as many seconds."

"Maybe not. What if they had bows, too?"

"Then make it six corpses," he said sadly.

Elenya decided not to be flippant.

Lonal continued, forcefully. "Picture a field of men. They are Po-no-pha. There is no greater glory for them than to meet an enemy, one to one, and prove themselves the greater warrior – the best shot with a dagger, the best rider, the most daring. They have distinguished themselves in raid after raid. They go forth with courage and ability.

"And they are mowed down by men who wait within stone bunkers, from afar. Often they never see the men who kill them. They fall and rot on the rocks, their many kinswomen abandoned to fate. Their land is stolen."

He stood up, braced his bow against the log, and unstrung it. "I condemned you last week more strongly than I should have. I was reminded of matters which do little to help my temper. I was angry not so much at you, as at myself. I let the tribe's vigilance go slack just when the Buyul could take advantage of it. I brought you here to try to amend my lack of judgment."

"I don't need an apology."

"This isn't one. I was right to chastise you. My error was in not being prepared. It is my responsibility as war-leader to see that, when my expertise is next called upon, I will better meet the test. I've thought of one thing I might do."

He held up a red-striped arrow. "The Zyraii are all sons of Cadra. We understand each other. Our warriors wagetorovet. We fight, we steal from our enemies, we risk our lives, and, if need be, we take lives. But taking life is not our objective. Raids are a way to win honor and material gain, not to murder. We have a saying: 'The desert kills enough.'

"But now, more and more often we face the armies of the traders. They have no conception oftorovet. They wagewar." Lonal plunged the arrow symbolically back into the body of the ruined bird. "They do not care if the blood of Cadra is completely wiped from the surface of all Tanagaran."

Lonal sighed. "My father was killed by traders. And I have been unable to fulfill my vendetta. Over the past few years I have realized the root of the problem – we Zyraii do notthink like our invaders. We don't understand their rules, if they have any, and therefore we do not anticipate their actions. I have been waiting for someone like you.

"I will be frank. I need you. I have seen your skill and your nature. You and your brother have clearly received long and hard training in the military arts. You understand the type of fighting which my people must now learn. Am I right?"

"Yes," Elenya said.

"I have yet to win your loyalty, but I can hope. I offer you an opportunity, at least. I don't know what goal you came to Zyraii with, but I can provide another of depth and honor. Help our nation remain free."

"Do I have a choice?" she asked.

"God gives us our roles to play. You lost your life your first day in our country by stealing water. I gave it back to you. Now you owe me, and you owe the family of Am and Roel. Until that debt is discharged, you are not free. If you decide to leave, I must order my Po-no-pha to hunt you down and kill you. But whether you cooperate with me or not is another matter."

His tone became almost confessional. "My father was once given an augury concerning my life and the threat of the traders. Because of it, I had to learn the High Speech. He would never tell me why. I never needed to use the language until you and your brother arrived. I suspect you are somehow part of the answer to this challenge. Why else would God have put me through all the trouble you've caused?"

She watched a squirrel race from branch to branch, automatically calculating the lead and force needed to shoot it down. "If I agree, when do we start?"

"Everything has to wait until you are an adult. It is more than three months until the next rite of thepulstrall. If you have advanced in your studies to the satisfaction of the Ah-no-ken, you will be permitted to participate. Po-no-pha do not listen to the advice of children."

"Or women."

"In your case, that has been taken care of."

"So you say."

"There will be problems. But God has performed a miracle, and my people believe in God."

Elenya plucked at the queeble. She had tasted a roasted one earlier that week and enjoyed it. It had pleased her to be able to choose one during the contest. Maybe she wasn't always able to make the rules, but sooner or later, she'd get what she wanted.

"I'll think about it," she said.