Disclaimer: Don't own it: remember if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. And I'd have a ton of money. Cheers and enjoy.
A/N: this is all well and good now, that I decided to reformat and edit. There are a few many good people who have reviewed saying that they don't understand quite what in hell is going on here in my little world. So, for your information here it is – The timeline: right after Arrows Fall, after Dirk and Talia got married, before any thing else. But in my little ditty Kris as in Herald Kris, Dirk's blood brother, herald to one Tantris "Featherfoot". In the books he died (Arrows Fall) in Hardorn at the hand of Ancar and Hulda glares evilly at witch. Well I have changed it just a tad; I have Kris living through that ordeal. Herald Lira Hedsfelt is in no way related to Selenay, though they do have a back story. Lira was a trainee at Herald's the same time Selenay was. She is in no way Elspeth's baby sister, one of the twins, though those two rascals are sure to make an appearance later in the show. Everything will be explained in the plot line. If you have any other questions, please drop me a line. Tragically yours, MB.
The Magi
By mingingbent
This is a re-edit: Aug 14, 2005
A/N: In this chapter I use more of the native language that the desert people speak – Lango (I made it up all by myself; it's loosely based on Tolkien's Elvish languages and Arabic). Lira speaks it fluently, Kris knows none of it. There will be no translation in this chapter because of it. Sorry if that bothers you or irks you, if you really want to know what they're saying email me and I will gladly interpret. The reason I am not giving an interpretation in the fic is because I want it to be realistic. In reality Kris had no idea what they are really saying. Thus making the whole cliffhanger thing work a bit better, in my humble opinion. Cheers and enjoy. MB.
Chapter Three
"My home is not a place, it is people."
- Lois McMaster Bujold, "Barrayar", 1991
000
Almost a half-moon later Ahkdar Noor rose out of the desert plains, an oasis of white splashed with natures' green and blue. Red and gold flags flapped in the breeze that always blew stronger in the late summer, early fall.
Lira smiled at the sight, so happy to finally be off the road.
It's good to be home.
She turned to where Herald Kris road stoically at her side.
"This," she gestured, "Is Ahkdar Noor, my home and high seat of Ibn Baren."
He didn't answer but that was to be expected.
Winding their way through the city, many waved, mostly people Lira knew by first name. Children stopped their games to follow the Companions.
Ahkdar Noor was more of a camp than a city. At its center was the bazaar and although some of the buildings were built of mud and stone, many and most were pavilions, large and small, and tents gleaming in the mid afternoon sun.
Kadir slowed as they reached a large tent, the flaps opened to the sides, revealing a very sparse, clean living space. Lira dismounted, gestured for Kris to do the same, and was immediately manhandled into a bear hug by a large, dark-skinned, bald, bare breasted man.
"Sadig keif halac?" His deep voice resounded in her ears.
"Ana madsoot." She replied a grin breaking her features.
"Eh dah?" He asked when they separated.
"Eh dad, eh ismee Kris, eh dah Tollun."
The herald remained passive by her side.
"Kris, this is Jadhir (Jaheer) he's a good friend of mine, but he like most everyone else in Ahkdar speaks Lango, the language of the tribes."
Kris didn't move at all, not even to show he heard her, so she turned to Jadhir.
"Kris, eh lass afham nah Lihat. Sa enbaer."
Well that went smooth.
Kadir broken in her thoughts :I'm going to take Tantris and wander over to Aban's:
:Don't do anything I wouldn't do.:
"Masa'a hani." Jadhir looked uncomfortable with the break of silence.
"Masa'a."
She had to take Kris to the Abnen before the sun started to set.
Fitting back into her particular niche was easy. People smiled as she passed through the series of walkways that led her to the Abnen, or Ahkdar Noor's ruling court, in particular it's High King, Faen Ibn Imad. Even the page smiled at her as she asked for entrance.
Red and gold banner's hung above the Tahlmud, the high seat of Abnen, fluttering, and casting an orange glow on the whole room, which was in fact a large pavilion. The high seat wasn't more than a dais with many pillows, on which sat a crisply dressed elderly man, which graying sideburns and tanned skin. His slightly slanted eyes were sleet grey, and they peered knowingly down from his perch. There were a few others in the room, a younger man with a scribe's unit, and a small boy: the man's own personal page.
When Lira entered, King Faen flashed a generous smile to her. Slightly bowing her head, Lira introduced Kris.
"Eh dah, Tollun Kris. Eh dad sadik waa taa'la hena na Ishaalha saedo waa saadni saedo waa saedhome exlab abyad fahamt. Howa rayed hema en fiel beit ana. Alhandullellah."
The king seemed to contemplate for awhile but then smiled as he spoke.
"Naani. Na am fahamt."
"Shokran gazillan."
"Ahlan wa sahlan. Maa'asa Alkair."
The nutty, spicy aroma of Talseem (a type of oatmeal) wafted through the city of tents from the bazaar. Lira beckoned Kris to follow her. Finally in the sea of white tents erupted a teal blue edged pavilion, the sun scintillatingly bright shinning white panels edged with teal. It was larger than the surrounding shelters and Lira continued inside. Once inside Lira lowered her pack, Kris did the same before she turned to him.
"This is my home, make yourself at home. I'll have Mathir bring in another bed for you. Welcome to Ahkdar Noor - my friend welcome."
Kris felt another wave of grief, mostly for himself, wash over him when the other Herald, Lira, left. Back in Haven it was easier to ignore everyone and everything there; they were so busy trying to fight a war that they were content to give him peace and space. But since being out on the road it was increasingly difficult, but after the first three days she pretty much left him alone. He was bitterly thankful for that. Now he was gods know where in a place that didn't speak his language, with no one he knew. The gaping hole in his soul still festered; at first it had been painful, now it was just part of everyday life: the heavy ache. Tantris didn't understand his plight either, no one did. He'd failed, failed as a Herald, failed as a friend, failed as a brother. Failed in the one thing in life he was supposed to do right. He didn't really care about anyone or anything anymore. The only reason he was alive was because of Tantris, he didn't feel his companion should be deserted like he had deserted everyone, everything else. But the mask of indifference was easy and he had blocked Tantris out a long time ago. Companions didn't intrude or attempt to help you out unless you asked. Slouching down on some of the cushions in the corner of the tent Kris felt another bout of helplessness wash over him. The herald had said to make himself at home, well that was something he could at least try to do.