|29|
Metal shearing against metal woke Thane to cross-threads of stiff canvas and eyelets. "Tiur?"
"Ssh," she turned at the window, sharpening a blade produced by a vambriuch—his—with a thin rod. Face shy of the sun's slant, she whispered, "…Silene Baye…home of the Sousan."
"We're there….What do you see?"
"Nothing yet…." though her hands moved the Jahga and keening rod easily without fumble, her eyelids collected tension. "Here," she walked around the slant of sunlight and handed him the vambriuch, "…Inspect and don it."
After testing the Jahga and nicking his thumb, Thane reconnected his forearm to the vambriuch and caressed the metallic relief designed into its shielding. He thanked her.
"Aim for the soft," she admonished him, "…bones dull the Jahga." Thane agreed.
Aside her shoulder, he lent his gaze to hers, observing what mists floated above the heating shore beyond. Foreboding whittled its way into his heart from the sight of fortified ramparts gleaming in dawn above the beachline, so near to jagged rocks tumbling from a mountainside.
"This is Nuru?"
"Isn't it…" she glanced at his awed expression, "…Nuru is untouchable."
"And yet Roun and his dragons are welcomed to it," Thane replied.
"A king needs news of the world, Thane."
"King….Pilar Sousan."
"Pilar….punished by his own solitude. My papua once told me that if ever a Sousan were to raise their eyes from exile, they would consume all that they saw….could."
"Why did the Sousan—didn't Pilar build the Towers?"
"He did, Thane….so it is said, he wrote the canons by his own hand, gave these to the papir-aias and ma-trineses of the land, then left."
"Back to exile."
"Yes….too much bloodshed."
"A tyrant conflicted over bloodshed…and yet how well he used it."
"He was defeated when he crossed the Beirchardt…he could have used his rachni, but something stayed him, Thane….I wonder what."
"Roun has secrets, too."
"Aya, don't they all. Soule always spoke of the Sousan as allies….allies to be left alone."
They stared upwards at the chalice towers of the cottis decorated in heavy, billowing banners exposing the white, blue and gold of Sousan colors….the wind crossed here from eastern sea, northern Horns, and western desert. "The Sousans can be trusted," Soule passes me a bachstere oozing spiced meatsauce through its bulging caldera, "…Pilar makes weaponry because he is bored, and he fights when he feels trapped by his mind….thank Kala he retired to play with his toys alone in the mountains of the Horn….he and those dreaded rachni."
"Why is he fighting the Suiaghan?"
"Because he likes them…and it has to do with their ideology—he wishes a cloister for others, but freedom for himself."
"That sounds unreasonable….I dislike him."
"He would not care for it. Chew you like bacria between his molars, Thane….his gums would do the work if he were toothless, too." He laughs with the others—I feel no harm in this.
"Why have you not allied yourself with him?"
The table within the coniulde grows silent…Soule's voice harshens…"Eat your bachstere, sprat…you're dripping."
"Look, Thane, the walls open."
A seam in the walls of the rampart grew as the outer façade crumbled and became dust combined with dune above the shore….lines diverged from the seam to make an entrance that spread with an intense rumble. Tiur smiled, "…Such a showdrell."
Thane gaped as the doors slid apart and monstrous creatures with tendrils and pods weaving the air moved with these….they were the work of an eye's fancy, he thought, for in the next moment they disappeared.
"Were those rachni…or have I imagined…."
"Aya, rachni, Thane…you've not seen them before."
"They are frightful…The Sousan live with them?"
"Without fear, Thane….without fear." Boots heard originally in calm scuffs and bumps outside their compartment, the activity became more lively. "Now is the time to be ready, Thane…once the crews are inside, we will leave."
"Leave….I'm supposed to see Roun here."
"I cannot stay, Thane," she plucked a sheath and belt, attaching this under her sash. While planks were inclined from galienna to shallows outside the window, Thane watched her prepare to depart.
"Where do you intend to go, Tiur?"
"The Horn…they say there are crouhns in the mountains where if I challenge correctly, I may find home and welcome…Soule told me to seek one."
"Crouhns? They are forsaken to drells…"
"Not to drellahnas," she attached gear to her joints, tucked loose straps securely through belts and into holsters. "I will fare better with a crouhn than in an unknown barra, Thane…Not all burrellas are treated with Soule's fine graces."
"This will be the last I ever see of you," Thane whispered—his face snapped up, "…Mara Cahira is in a haira'lar in the Crandal."
"That is not helpful," she said cuttingly, "…Which one?"
"I don't…it was near the dwennon…." He remembered the name of the ma-trinese, "….A drellahna named Hiamata runs it."
"I can't make any promises, Thane," carbuncle eyes glanced rapidly in thought, "…I will try and find her."
"Roun said she would be safe."
"Do you believe him?"
"What choice do I have?"
"You could travel with me for a while. But a crouhn will kill you. You can go with them, wait for Roun with his dragons. Whatever your choice, Thane, you must choose when I leave."
"I….why can't I go with you….I can't be with…I can't be alone again."
"We are alone, Thane," Tiur adjusted her last strap and set her hands on a thick hatach strapped to her waist, "….the way of a th'ane is to find comfort in that, youngster."
"I wanted family—who took it from me?"
"Soule did, Thane," she placed her palm on him, over his heart, "…His seeds are sent to the wind and where we land, we shall sprout and grow his teaching. And you are his promise to Pilar."