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Chapter 16
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Kel heard voices. Strange voices, that reminded her of far away places. Husky voices, speaking an exotic language.
Unsure of what had happened, Kel felt around herself. The last things that she remembered were two strange men entering their campsite, before darkness had claimed her.
She was resting on her back, with a rough blanket pulled up to her chin. Moving her hands to the side, she noticed that she was lying on a rickety pallet.
Something else that she noticed straight away was that her hands and feet were unbound, which meant that either the people around her were harmless and had good intentions, or that they had a guard watching her.
Dom.
Despite of her pounding head, Kel sat up quickly and opened her eyes. She was in a tent. Her boots were arranged next to her on the floor and her sword was propped up against the fabric wall.
She was alone.
Instead of panicking about Dom's absence, Kel pushed back the blanket and slipped into her boots wincing as stiff muscles protested.
Clutching her sword, Kel opened the tent flap and stepped outside.
Sunlight met her. Blinking, Kel looked around. It was late afternoon.
A large fire crackled in the centre of numerous tents and about twenty people sat around it. Men, women and children all looked up at her and stopped what they were doing.
Silence.
Kel looked around uncertainly. Finally a middle-aged man stepped forward.
"Welcome, stranger," he said in common, but Kel couldn't place that accent that made him roll his r's and spit his s's. "Please, sit down. You must be hungry and thirsty."
Kel lowered her sword and returned it to its scabbard hanging at her side. All of the people around the fire dressed in livid colours and seemed strangely undisturbed by her presence.
The man opposite her smiled encouragingly before saying, "I am Nabura, head of the Skandiri Clan. We found you in the woods with your companion and brought you back." His eyes twinkled and Kel couldn't help trust the man.
Nabura motioned and a woman got up and stepped forward. "This is my 'talia', my wife, Sabrik. Please, join us and eat, while our Wiseman cares for your companion."
"Thank you," Kel made a half-bow, "your hospitality is very much appreciated. My name is Keladry and my companion goes by the name of Domitan. Please," Kel added as Sabrik took her by the elbow and led her to the fire, "How is he?"
"Rest assure, Keladry of Tortall, our Wiseman is doing all he can to make the illness pass." Sabrik replied.
Pushing Kel down, she settled next to her and gave her a roughly made bowl filled with a deliciously smelling soup. A slice of wholemeal bread was past along to her and Kel, feeling her stomach rumble, quickly wolfed the meal down.
A young child gave a small jug with weak ale to Kel and although she normally never touched liquor, she sipped at it, feeling her strength return.
Meanwhile, the conversation around the fire picked up again. Even though Kel didn't understand what was being said, she enjoyed sitting by the warming fire and letting everything fall into place.
The women around her were cooking, sewing or talking. Men gutted animals, fletched arrows or sharpened knives.
Turning to Sabrik, Kel noticed that all the people had darker skin than her or Dom and that all their clothing looked to be made out of animal skin that had been dyed bright, natural colours.
Sabrik was mixing a thick, brown paste. She looked up when she felt Kel's gaze resting on her. She understood the questions in Kel's eyes and began talking.
"We come from a land far to the west of Tyra. Some call us travelling folk, others use the term 'gypsies' or even wanderers. Both ways, we are nomads, moving wherever the road leads us. We are fickle and never stay in one place for long periods.
Although we answer to our homeland's call, we can not be bound to one country and some clans have even taken to ships and experienced far away places across the waters."
She stopped and added herbs to the paste, giving Kel time to think.
It was hard to imagine never being able to settle down in one place. Even though Kel was happy at the moment, being on the road and serving her king and realm, she wouldn't mind having a home to retire to.
"But the Skandiri Clan is a one of the white clans." Sabrik continued, " It is smaller than most and we are hunters. Deer, rabbits, birds … we sell the different parts if we can't use them ourselves. Yes," she scrunched up her brow in thought, "That is about it."
She put the bowl with the paste onto the fire and turned to Kel with large, brown eyes that seemed to know everything.
Kel wiggled her toes in a boots a bit, mulling everything over.
"I have always heard that the travelling folk was known for its music and songs."
Sabrik smiled. "Very true. After the evening meal, especially. When we all are merry, that's when the best songs come to life."
Kel nodded.
"How did you find us? Did you just stumble into our camp?"
"Two of our men were hunting when they found you." The older woman nodded towards two men plucking wild ducks across the fire. "They came back to us and together with other men went to collect you and all your items as well as horses."
Kel's heart felt lighter knowing that Peachblossom was in good hands.
She knew that she could never repay the clan for all their help.
"What about Dom?" When Sandrik didn't respond, but stood up, Kel gripped the woman's dark hand.
"Please, Mistress, I worry about him. We have," she bit her lip, "we have been on the road for weeks now and," she couldn't continue.
Sadrik's hand crept to Kel's cheek, "Hush, child. Come with me."
Kel got to her feet and followed the head woman around the fire. They walked through the circle of tents.
Without the tents to block the view, Kel could see that they were camped in one of the numerous clearings in the forest. Behind the tents stood a number of rickety wagons and a bit further away were eight shaggy mountain ponies picketed to the trees lining the edge of the clearing. Peachblossom and Whistler were with them and Kel's heart leaped to see them good and well.
About ten steps away from the mounts was a single tent. A tiny fire crackled outside it and a small pot was sitting on the flames, its contents bubbling.
An old man sat in front of the fire, using a fallen log as a chair. His grey beard was platted in a complex braid that fell down to this stomach. The grey hair, that hung as long as the beard, looked knotty and had a few twigs and leaves tangled in it.
The Wiseman wore old, mattered robes that had seen better days. Beneath the numerous stains and patches of dirt the original colour was barely visible, however it seemed to have been ochre some time ago.
Rough made leather boots covered his feet and a gnarled walking stick was leaning against the log next to its owner.
The man rose wobbly to his feet upon seeing the two women approach.
While Sabrik and the man exchanged hushed words in their own language, Kel had time to study his face more closely.
The eyes were dark orbs of grey with tinges of blue surrounding the pupil that sparkled with youth. His nose was large and hooked and seemed to cast his lower face in shadow. The lips were thin and an unnatural, unhealthy white. The skin surrounding it was brittle looking, like autumn leaves that would crumble under too much pressure. Strong lines around the corner of the eyes, around the mouth and along the nose told of a hardness that had developed over many years, but it also had gentleness to it.
Kel looked up to see his dark eyes resting on her. Not knowing how to address the Wiseman, she gave a small bow.
"No, no, child," the man spoke with a husky voice and, like everyone else's of the Skandiri Clan, it was heavily accented. It was a soothing voice that reminded Kel of mist and fog.
"Don't bow to me, youngling. It makes me feel old. Come," he added, extending a hand to Kel, "Visit your friend. Ease both your heart and his."
Not sure what he meant, Kel nodded, "Please, good man."
He opened the tent flap and motioned for her to go in. "I think he is awake."
The flap closed behind Kel and her eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light. Taking a few steps forward, Kel saw a pallet on which lay …
"Dom!" she fell to her knees next to him and grabbed his hand. "Oh, Dom, I was so worried, so helpless, you were burning up and I just, I thought you were gone and …"
Dom shushed her rambling by placing a cool finger on her lips.
"Kel," he whispered, his voice weak, "I will be fine soon. Give it a bit of time." His finger left her lips and instead the hand cupped her cheek.
The hand was wonderfully warm and Kel, not trusting her voice, nodded before drawing a ragged breath. "You scared me." She croaked.
Dom laughed quietly and Kel leaned forward to press her forehead against his shoulder.
His hand moved under her chin and she was forced to meet his eyes.
Dom's sparkled like always, not even the fever had been able to dull them.
As Kel sank into those deep blue pools, she felt relieve flood her and, despite of herself, her eyes filled up.
Dom gave a small smile and Kel could feel his breath tickling her cheek. The distance between them closed and all of a sudden their lips were upon each other.
Desperately Kel tried to hold the tears behind the Yamani mask, but she was too packed with emotions to be able to.
Silently her eyes spilled over and salty water droplets ran down her cheeks as Dom held her against him as firmly as he could in his weakened state.
She couldn't remember ever feeling so thankful and as they broke apart, Kel took Dom's hand and held it till he fell asleep again.
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Hey everyone.
Make me happy and review, please!
Also, the following books inspired the name of the clan and the word for wife.
Firstly, Sword-Born by Jennifer Roberson
Secondly, Traitor's Moon by Lynn Flewelling
Thank you!
Wolfy