[Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

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CHAPTER FIVE

      Stepping through the doorway, Me'Shaw held the hide with her walking stick. Never taking her eye off them, she motioned for them to enter. Nodding at the cat she said, "Enthal be staying outside to watch." She gave a quick glance at the sun. "There be dry grass and shelter for your beasts. Hurry, unpack you beasts." To emphasize the need to hurry, she waved impatiently with her free arm. Her impatient gesture caused the hide to fall over the entrance, concealing it.
      Casaaron shuddered slightly, not understanding the meaning of the premonition that swept over him. He whispered to Girmer, "With out the cats near, perhaps she fells there is little protection from possible attacks. I believe she fears for our safety."
      Girmer's eyes narrowed. "If those she fears are responsible for the destruction of that camp and the taking of slaves, I will handle them."
      Shrugging, he rubbed his arms and glanced around. "Perhaps."
      Girmer took Casaron's remark as a silent suggestion that it was not the time for vengeance. She gave her head a quick jerk in the direction of the corral. Talbor and Iritha both knew without Star Danc with them, she would not venture far from the Maji's sight. They volunteered to care for the beasts. Both believed Me'Shaw's growing concern was for their safety, thought Casaron's powers, might be needed powers, if he used spellbinding he would experience the draining of both physical and mental energy any User did.
      While Talbor unpacked and bedded the beasts, Iritha grabbed the remaining venison, soup and the bag containing the strange tea she now brewed only for their first rise meal. With new life just beginning to dominate the land, she didn't want to deplete the old woman's remaining supplies. She silently hoped the old woman had some extra honey.
      Watching the scarlet setting sun, Talbor felt the temperature drop. Moon rise creatures began to fill the land with their voices. Iritha paused when reaching his side. "Is somethin wrong?"
      "No, I just remembered an old proverb often said before one of the royal captains took us pleasure sailing."
      "Oh, an' what's that?"
      "Red sky before light, there is no delight. Red sky before dark there will be a joyous embark."
      "From my experience, the color of the sky doesn't tell the truth."
      "Iritha, it's just an old proverb. It has more to do with weather forecasting not fortune telling. We better get back to Me'Shaw's dwelling before it gets any darker. There's no way of knowing what's out here after moon rise." Looking at the packages she held he added, "Let me take some of them."
      "That's ok, their not heavy."
      The distant solitary howl of a timber dog hastened their departure.
      Ducking through the rawhide covering, a two meter platform led to a ten step decent. Iritha inspected the three sided room before starting down. Stacked in a niche on the last step was the remainder of the soothsay's deep sleep wood supply. To Iritha's surprise, the living area appeared to be a little over four meters. Even with the sloping ceiling, the three meter height gave the room a spacious feeling. The wide living area combined with the narrow ceiling gave the effect of walking into a triangler bell. On closer inspection, she realized the soothsayer used mud to plaster the walls and ceiling. The mud plaster frame, but the root system. Over twelve small mud motored and stone tunnels throughout the ceiling allowed smoke to escape. The ingenious design prevented Me'Shaw's enemies from knowing where she was.
       Due to the lack of windows, several fat rendered candles lit the room. Me'Shaw put a lot of though into her living area. The flickering light could not be seen past the top platform. It appeared Me'Shaw lived in constant fear.
     Sparsely furnished, their hostess owed few luxuries that would make living bearable during deep sleep. It surprised Iritha the old woman had a shelf crammed with books and parchments. A table a meter high and three meters in diameter, probably a tree trunk, was near the shelf. Near the table were two chairs. Chopped from smaller trunks, the chairs appeared to be one piece with the seats chiseled out. Cushions stuffed with goat hair tied to the seats and backs provided some comfort. Iritha realized the second chair was for the soothsayer's occasional guest. A wood framed cot covered with a homespun woolen blanket was near a small wardrobe. Iritha also noticed a small spinning wheel and weaving loom. The only thing out of place in the underground home was a free standing firepit. Her eyes moved to a woven mat hanging over a possible doorway. This perhaps was a storage room.
      Me'Shaw interrupted the young woman's thoughts. "While you be standing there, get some wood."
      Embarrassed, Iritha grin slightly. "Uh, my hands are kind'a full. Is it all right if Talbor gets it?"
      "Oh, Talbor be his name." She eyed to the big man for a second. Striking her walking stick on the floor she ordered, "Young man, you best be getting that wood before everyone starves and freezes."
      Talbor's face flushed slightly. As ordered, he grabbed an arm full of wood, shook his head and hurried toward her.
      Stopping in front of her, he told her, "The stories told about you weren't wrong. You're just as rude as they said."
      She chuckled pointing to a box near the free standing fire pit. "Maybe, maybe not."
     With Talbor's back to her, the old woman moved faster than her guests thought possible, she grabbed a bone knife from a shelf. In a matter of seconds the soothsayer held The knife's blade at Talbors throat. He knew he couldn't reach his sword before the old woman could cut his throat. Fear gripped the big man and he dropped the wood. Wood scattered across the stone hearth. With Talbor between her and Casaron Me'Shaw ordered, "User, you be putting your hands where they can't be moving and remain silent. Painted woman you be removing your weapon." She glanced at a terrorized Iritha and pressed the knife tighter against Talbor's throat. "You be putting what you carry on the table and leave your hands on the package. Least you be a widow - if in truth he be your husband."
      Casaron raised his hands to his sides, palms up, careful not to make any movements she might misinterpreted. The Maji now understood the meaning of the uneasiness he felt earlier was subtle warning of danger.
      Doing as Me'Shaw ordered, Iritha put the wrapped meat and containers with the prepared meal on the table. She gave the soothsayer a pleading look before placing her hands on the grease stained hide. Girmer tightened her jaw. Sliding the weapon from its sheath, she released her grip on the hilt. As the sword fell to the floor, she closed her eyes.
      Seconds after Girmer closed her eyes, the tense silence that gripped the small room was shattered by three separate but distinctive yowls. The shadowy forms of three Death Cats began materializing in front of Casaron.
      Confused, Me'Shaw watched both Star Danc and the two other cat's eyes began to drain of color. The woman glared at Casaron. Then in recognition her eyes widened in horror. Her face paled. The old woman dropped her knife and slumped to the floor. "You be he, you be the one. I be asking your forgiveness. Not understanding their meaning, I fear for my life force."
      Casaron lowered his head and waved his hand. Star Danc and his mate returned to Girmer The smaller male returned to Me'Shaw's side. Going to the old woman, Casaron helped her to her feet. "Fear us not Keeper. I and those with whom I now travel request only sanctuary in your home this moon rise."
      Me'Shaw stared at the emerald robed man with her good eye. "You not be from the abbey? Who you be and were you be from? As I said, perhaps you be both a User and a priest but neither. Even your companions are more than they appear." Lowering her eyes she sighed. "The abbey tricks all in its shadows. Behind its stone walls it be a place of evil. It be making a fool's mark of all who enter its walls."
      Ignoring the soothsayer's apology, Girmer grabbed her sword and thrust the point at the old woman. With the blade touching the hollow point of her throat, the giant woman's eyes narrowed. "It is my duty to protect the Maji. Count the blessings of your Lord and Master that your knife was not held at the Maji's neck. I have heard enough about this abbey. Hear me old woman, I will not be played for a fool's mark by anyone."
      Talbor, reaching for Iritha told Girmer, "Leave her be."
      Iritha sensing the tension building, pulled away from her husband and looked at Casaron. Walking past the table, she grabbed the grease stained rawhide. She paused at the steps. "I'm gonna go up these stairs an' come back down. When I put this roast back on that table, everythin' that happened - didn't. We came runnin' inta her place, an' she don't know who we are. How's she 'possed ta act, like we're long lost friends? We all saw what happened at that huntin' camp. We thought she was in danger." She glanced at Girmer "Girmer ya more than any of us should know a woman livin' alone ain't always in danger. Why don't ya be put that thin' away. Then tell Star Dance fer him an' his friend ta go an' have some fun." She turn her attention to Talbor and glared. "That ways least someone will."
      Iritha held her breath til she reached the top step. She turned in time to see Casaron raised his right hand. He pointed his index and middle finger then whisper. "Amicus et fide sua emere." He then made a slow circular motion. Relived that Casaron realized what she meant, she let out a long held breath.
      Reaching the bottom step, Iritha acted as though the events prior to her assent hadn't taken place. "I don't know 'bout all of you, but I'm starved." And put the roast back on the table.
      Me'Shaw realized, thanks to the smaller woman, everyone had been given a second chance. She knew the emerald robed man somehow used spellbinding, but the only thing different was the lack of trust she felt toward her guests. Even with the mistrust gone, she needed to find out several things. Who were these strangers? How did the larger of the men know her old name? The painted woman, she had the size of a Mondar. But Mondarain women were not only forbidden to carry weapons but never left the Pugna Forest unless banished. This woman had not been banished. She was a warrior. Her skin was deep ebony not ash gray. The tattoo on her left temple was more than cosmetic. It was an ancient symbol of power. She knew these strangers were more than they appeared, much more. More importantly, Me'Shaw needed to know why Tulela and Ethnal, the giant cats, she rescued as kittens. turned on her.
      Casaron bent to help the troubled woman pick the wood up scattered across the hearth of the free standing fire pit. "None of us made a good first impression. Each of us assumed what we should not have. By doing so, we ignored silent warnings. Shall we start again?"
      Standing Casaron brought his left hand to his chest, and bowed slightly. "Among those with whom I now travel, I am called Casaron. However, to all others regardless of status, I am Maji, first to be reborn." Casaron extended his hand to Girmer. "This is Girmer, an Aszian warrior. Decent of the ancient race favored by the Supreme One. She is my Protector. You have already met the male Death Cat Star Danc." He turned to Talbor and Iritha. "This is Talbor Meckolins, first born to the House of Folista, heir to the throne of Eastern Auxnurs. Beside him stands his bride, the Lady Iritha, third daughter to the House of Chormis, distant cousin to the royal House of Sheloe. In return for your hospitality, we off to share those supplies given by the High One."
      Iritha frowned slightly and whispered to Talbor. "He makes me sound importan' with all them titles."
      Talbor squeezed her shoulder. "You are important. As my first wife, and since the lost of my mother's life force, you are the most powerful woman in Eastern Auxnurs."
     "Ya me an everythin' the High One said was true?"
      He whispered, "Yes."
      Iritha's voice became a choked whisper. "Oh."
      Me'Shaw paled.
      Casaron didn't know if it was the introductions or the mentioning of the High One. As a former User he knew soothsayers, though the weakest of all whose life calling held mystic powers, were obligated to the wishes of the High One.
     Trembling, Me'Shaw shifted to Talbor and gave a clumsy curtsy. By holding a knife at the crown prince's throat she had committed high treason.
      "If you be the Crow Prince himself, I beg forgiveness for my actions. I be a loyal subject of Surmi and abide by the laws handed down by the House of Folista." She turned to Casaron. "You be the one the pebbles speak of. It be my duty to warn you. Take care when entering Sensouls." She glanced at the two women. "First we eat and talk." Her eyes shifted to the second room, then back to Iritha. Chuckling, she smiled a toothless grin. "Then we sleep?"
      Iritha flushed and grabbed the supplies she had removed from their packs. Frowning, she studied the free standing seen one of these."
      Unsure of what she ment, Me'Shaw took the packages and told her, "Since you be supplying the food, I be doing the cooking. One of your status shouldn't be worrying about blistered hands."
     Iritha held her hands out. The small woman looked at her calloused hands. "I ain't too worried 'bout getting a few more blisters."
      Seeing Talbor frown, she quickly added, "Since we're your guests, I'd be honered if ya'd let me make the tea. It's a little bitter without honey. Do ya have any?"
     Me'Shaw nodded and told Talbor, "You be choosing your bride wisely. She be both regale and common. I think maybe she be teaching your father's house more than she be teaching you."
      Without giving Talbor a chance to reply, she opened the door to the standing fire pit, stoked the embers and put a few thin logs on the glowing embers. Me'Shaw left the door open while she transferred the food from their traveling containers to cooking pots.
      Shuffling to a shelf beside fire pit, she grabbed a covered clay pot. "Here be the honey m'lady." After Iritha took the honey pot, the old woman took two container and a basket from the shelf. "I be putting some rice grain and sea salt in the soup." Handing a basket to Iritha, she nodded at the table. "There be flat bread in this basket. The food be on the table, you be setting where you like."
      After feasting on a meal of fruity rice soup, venison and flat bread, Talbor wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Me'Shaw leaned forward studying him. "Young man, if you be the Crown Prince himself then you be marked from birth. Why you be traveling with no escort?"
      With the felling of the knife at his throat still fresh in his mind, Talbor reached for his sword. "Old woman, you try a man." He released his grip on the hilt before it could wrap around his arm. He opened the front of his tunic. The head of the dragon emblem of Folista glistened in the candlelight. "As for an escort, I am returning from a quest summoned by the Dream Master. An escort was forbidden me."
      Convinced, Me'Shaw nodded. "Now we truly talk young prince. There be things I see no priest or User can. Ask him", She nodded to Casaron. "if you think I be speaking falsely."
      Casaron acknowledged the woman's claim. "Though granted the abilities of both a high priest and a User, I have not been granted neither the gifts of prophecy or dream sight." He glanced at Girmer and shrugged slightly. "Through the wisdom of the Supreme One, even a Maji's powers are limited."
      After several seconds, Me'Shaw walked to the other room. When she returned she had two small boxes. In the smaller of the two was a tattered parchment. The larger box measuring only thirteen by thirty centimeters was locked. "I took these when I fled my ancestral city. My knowledge of the writen language be limited, so everyone I be rescuing from the Searchers I show. Perhaps you, young prince, know what be written."
      Carefully taking the crumbling parchment, Talbor studied the markings. "Some of this I recognize, but for the most part this is beyond my knowledge. Casaron can you understand any of this?"
      With Talbor's invitation and Me'Shaw's permission Casaron, Girmer and Iritha began studying the parchment. The Maji's brow narrowed. "This is a combination of several languages. Some of them are ancient. I, like my Protector, were granted the ability to understand and speak the language of all we come in contact with. Unfortunately this does not include their written words. Perhaps, between the five of us, the message will be made clear."
      Me'Shaw lit two more candles and put them on the table. Spreading the parchment between the flickering light, each looked for any words they recognized.
      The soothsayer's four guests began translating the ancient parchment. Each filling in what was unknown to the others.
      I, Antir, having been called to judgment, lived during the time of the second conversion. I now put to parchment in languages understood only by the chosen. May they, by chance, meet in the dwelling of a distant descendants. Heed well my warning children of prophecy, for legends are told in half truths.
      During the time of change there shall be united by chance two ancient houses torn by war. Til then, one's blood shall be banished to an island crownship. While the victor shall rule half the known lands. What once was shall be again. Let it be known those united shall carry on their flesh the emblem of ancient creatures of flight. Those so marked shall remain unknown, but brought together to aid in an ancient power and sanctioned by the Four Lords.
      One shall be branded by mortal hand. The other marked within the womb and an enemy's blade. With the aid of those from a forgotten time a long neglected wrong shall be set right.
      If my treasures survive the passage of time, let it be returned to the Oracle of Xamarth and opened by one who has the birth knowledge to do so. May the chosen trust in the hand of prophecy, the Eye of Talthria and the Oracle of Xamurth.
      I pray the Four Lords will forgive me for what I have done.
      Still studying the parchment Iritha asked, "What do ya think this man meant? Do any of ya know who he was? What do ya think wanted ta be fergiven fer?"
      "He be an ancient prophet who saw things in the distant future."
      Uncomfortable, Talbor crossed his arms. "Maybe to some. But according to history he was insane. After his trial and imprisonm ent he lost his life force by his own hand. As far as I'm concerned, if he had waited, some one would have taken it for him."
      The soothsayer added, "Some be saying he remains at the Gateway. He be singing about what was." Iritha's eyes widened. "The menstrual at Quasta."
      Me'Shaw, ignoring Iritha's comment peered into Talbor's face. "You be branded at birth." She nodded at Iritha. "She be marked before birth and in battle."
      "Our private life is none of your concern." Uncomfortable with both Me'Shaw's observation and Talbor's quick response, Iritha interrupted. "What's in the box?"
      The old woman shook her head. "The box be locked."
      Iritaha bit her bottom lip, and smiled. "I can open it fer ya if ya like."
      "I be having these boxes for near on fifty cycles. What ever be in that box is not for me to see. It can remain unknown."
      "Aren't ya curious?"
      "No, it not b e my place to see what is inside. You two be united. You two be marked. You be taking the box when you leave. When it be time you be knowing who to give it to."
      Talbor tightened his jaw. "What do you mean by us being marked?"
      Me'Shaw grabbed Iritha's tunic, and pulled at it exposing the scar on her shoulder. "The mark before birth along with this scar is one of the symbols of the creatures of flight. She bears the mark of Chonkí."
      Visible upset, Talbor narrowed his brow. "That's Impossible."
      "Maybe you not be knowing your bride so well." She pointed at Talbor's chest. "Just as you be branded at birth, she be branded. This be truth."
      The old woman's attention went to the parchment. Pools of wax from the burning candles were inching dangerously close to the parchment. Lighting a new candle, Me'Shaw pinched the flame of the candle stubs. "It be late. Perhaps, at first rise we be talking about the Abbey of Sensouls. I be thinking, you," Nodding at Talbor she pointed toward the smaller room. She raised her eyebrows and smiled. By raising her eyebrows and giving a slight nod, her face had the same as expression the Folistain women who prepared royal brides for their wedding moon rise. "and your bride be having some privacy this moon rise. You be sleeping in there."
     She glanced around the room then turned to Casaron. Casaron, realizing Me'Shaw was trying make sleeping arrangements, told her, "If you have extra sleeping covers I and my Protector will be comfortable by your fire pit. It is unnecessary for you to give up your bed for either of us."
     "I be thanking you." She looked at Girmer. "Painted woman, I be needing your help."
      Me'Shaw grinned and began laughing. "Young bride, you come too. But you," She held her hand centimeters from Talbor's chest. "You be staying here till things be made ready."
     Taking two small brass goblets, a flask of wine, and a wheel of goat cheese wrapped in gauze cloth from the shelf beside the free standing fire pit, she handed them to Iritha. "These not be the best, but...." She turn her attention to Girmer. "Painted woman, we be making their wedding bed now."
      Iritha, holding the wine, goblets, and cheese, felt heat rise around her face. Me'Shaw, seeing her blush, gave a nod of approval. "Good, though experienced, you be a proper bride. You be red faced."
      In the small room, beyond the sight of both men, Me'Shaw and Girmer arranged the the sleeping covers while Iritha watched. They stacked several heavy down filled covers one on top the other. A larger muslin cover tucked around the covers created a suitable mattress. Two lighter covers were placed on the top of the make-shift mattress. Folding the blankets so they formed a point at the top, Me'Shaw placed a wooden tray near where Talbor was to sleep. She told Iritha, "You be handing the wine, chese and goblets to her. She, as witness be placing them on the tray. When this be done, we be preparing you."
      "How? Better yet, why?"
      "As first wife to the Crown Prince, there be certain things that must be done before your wedding be consummated."
      Me'Shaw began rummaging through several crates in one corner. Finding the crate she was looking for, she removed a cotton bundle. Carefully unwrapping it, she took two viles of oil, a scented cloth, a sheer, pale violet, sleeping gown and a heavy cotton cloak.
      "Lady Iritha, you be removing your clothing now."
      "What?"
      Girmer folded her arms and fought to suppress the humor in Iritha's reaction. Even in Aszia where an unattached male's worth was measured by his physical stature and his ability to catch a possible mate's interest such ceremonies were practiced. Over the past cycles she had learned many of the customs, though differing slightly, held the same basic meanings.
      Me'Shaw, ignoring both Iritha's apprehension and Girmer's humor, held up the viles and gown. "You be cleansed with these oils and dressed first in this. With at least one to bear witness you be coverd with the cloak Before your husband sees you again." Her eyes shifted to Girmer. "She be pouring the wine and slicing the cheese. She be giving them to him. He will offer it to you." The old woman ordered, "You be taking it." Iritha's eyes widened. She interrupted, "Ya mean some's gonna watch us?"
      "No, once the goblets be in his hands, she be leaving."
      Relived Iritha asked, "Why wine and cheese?"
     "Wine be the drink of royal life. Cheese as all know be much better with aged." Me'Shaw shrugged slightly. "Long life together."
      Handing Girmer the oil and cloth, she told Iritha, You be removing the rest of your clothing. The oi l must be rubbed on your entire body. Those areas you not be able to reach will be applyed by the painted woman."
      "Her name is Girmer."
      "She be Girmer to you. To me, she be painted woman. No insult - respect for who she be."
      Iritaha looked at Girmer. Girmer shook her head saying, "Even on Asiza those in power have a ritual with those they mate. From what I can tell, be lucky that we are here and not in Folista." "The painted woman be right. In the royal house there be witnesses to ensure the wedding be consummated. But I be thinking there be no need for witness. Will there?"
      Iritha ignored the soothsayer last remark. Her eyes moved from the oil to the shear gown then to Girmer and Me'Shaw. "This oil's gonna be slippery."
      "The oil be absorbed in your skin."
      "But." Iritha removed the stoppers and sniffed at the contents. She drew her head back and wrinkled her nose. "What's in this? It smells like rotten meat."
      "The oil be a mixture of several herbs. The fragrance be changing it be very plesant once it touches your skin. These herbs help women relax. But men, it be making them..." Me'Shaw curled her index finger then straightened it."
      The young woman looked at the vile. "Oh."
      Me'Shaw took the gown and held it in the dim, flickering light. "You not be shy, there be only women in this room.
      Shrugging, Iritha removed her underbodice. She unconsciously rubbed the scar on her left shoulder and birthmark centimeters below it. Nude, she hoped the oil would warm her. Cool air from the unheated room made her shiver. Now nude, she hoped the oil would warm her. If nothing else, perhaps the shear gown would at least hold some of the heat until she could put the cloak on.
      With the cloth soaked with oil, Iritha began rubbing it on her skin. The oil felt like satin. Handing the cloth and vile to Girmer, she felt herself relax when the oil was massaged into her back and neck. With Girmer's help, every centimeter of her body was covered with oil. Body glistening in the pale candlelight, Iritha slipped the gown over her head. She embraced the cloak's warmth when Girmer draped it across her shoulders. The folds of the cloak's hem lay on the dirt packed floor covering the gown. The hood fell forward hiding her face.
      Me'Shaw motioned to the doorway. "You be keeping your head lowered when your husband greets you' She," pointing to Girmer, "will put your hand in that of your husband's when he enters." She paused warning the young woman, "Because of the herbs on your skin and the presence of another male, do not leave this room until first rise. By then the effects of the herbs will have left."
      Iritha followed a few steps behind Girmer.
      The old woman parted the mat covering the door. "Crown Prince Talbor Meckolins, your bride, the Lady Iritha Meckolins awaits your pleasures."
      Casaron watched from across the room. Even at this distance, the herded oil began to arose him. He knew the danger of being near a woman anointed with these oils. No male, not even a Maji could resist the physical desires these combined oils induced.
      The big man smiling started toward the doorway, but stopped. Me'Shaw's looked at him questionable. "What be wrong?"
      Talbor scratched the back of his neck. "Well we have a problem. There are no witnesses."
      The old woman's eyes narrowed. "Where your wedding be preformed?" She glanced at Casaron then doorway to the small room where Girmer and Iritha stood. "They bare witness to your wedding?"
      "Tara the High One, matriarch of Quasta, performed the ceremony. Both Casaron and Girmer were witnesses. Their signatures are on the official documents. But there is no signature for consummation."
      "You be having powerful friends young prince. There be no problem. He," She glanced back at Casaron. "be same as high priest, maybe more. You go now consummate your marriage before someone in the royal house declares it never took place. By first rise, you be truly man and wife. Then we be talking about the abbey. As for signature, I be signing. My old name be known to the royal house."
      In silence, Girmer placed Iritha's covered hand in Talbors. She led the couple to the make-shift bed. Removing the cloak from Iritha's shoulders, she helped the bride in bed. With Talbor still standing, she sliced the cheese and handed him the wine goblets. Silently she left.

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[Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]