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Topiara - Chapter 13
Jilan looked from the broad highland plains stretched out to the horizon before him to the fetish in Lyara's dark mane in trepidation. "Are you sure that thing in your hair is going to keep us safe here? I mean, I don't speak Kauwlut at all. What if they ask me a question?"
Lyara sniffed as she thought. "Just keep your mouth shut, I guess. Let me do all the talking. It's been a long time since I've spoken Kauwlut myself, but Top . . . I'm sure that the words will come back to me when I need them." She flipped the reins and rubbed her heels into Surefoot's side to begin the arduous trek down the side of the mountain without another word.
Jilan hurried to bring Fleetwind close behind Surefoot again. "Won't it seem odd if a woman does all the talking? Won't it make them suspicious?"
Lyara glanced back at him in amusement. "You knew this was going to be dangerous from the outset, Jilan. Do you want to turn back before you get in any deeper?"
"I don't know what I want," he exclaimed earnestly. "Everything seemed so easy back in Tandri - a fair quick and painless trip into the Kauwlut homeland to get Sidon back and a quick trip back out again. No details, no problems. But now . . ."
"Now you're starting to think twice about the whole thing, right?" Lyara's tone was kind. "Things are no longer as easy or cut-and-dried as they were, and you start to appreciate the possibility that you may never get back to Tandri again."
Jilan's silence was deafening. He looked again over the yellow plains below, a shiver of apprehension running down his spine.
Lyara reined in Surefoot and twisted in her saddle to get a good view of her client. "Look. I don't blame you for being afraid, and I won't think less of you if you decide not to go any further. If you trust in my so-called visions, you know I already know what Sidon looks like and have a fair idea of where to go looking for him. You could go back to your uncle's hall and wait for me there, through the whole winter if necessary."
"And let you go on by yourself? Who would help you if something happened?" Jilan's resolve returned. "No. I prom ised myself that I would find Sidon; and that means I go with you wherever you lead." He managed a weak and sheepish smile. "I don't want to be proof that all scholars are cowards."
"If you were a coward, you never would have considered this plan in the first place," Lyara said soothingly. "And even if you did turn back now, it still wouldn't prove you were a coward; maybe just a little more prudent."
"Let's not discuss it anymore, or I may just lose my nerve again," Jilan said as he sobered both gaze and tone. "I don't want to spend the entire winter here in the frozen north."
"You're entirely sure?" Lyara insisted. "This is the point where you will have your last chance to turn back. Anoth er step, and there will be no other direction than forward."
"Lead on," Jilan tried to sound determined despite his fears. "I don't want to spend another night on this mountain either."
As the days and weeks passed and they surreptitiously searched one small camp after another without success, Jilan learned anew to trust in the strange trances and visions Lyara went through. As the pair rode over the broad expanses of the Kauwlut homeland, Lyara began teaching him what she was remem bering of the Kauwlut tongue even as Topiara brought the sounds of the fluid language back to her. As the lessons went on, Lyara began explaining some of the remembered customs and man nerisms shown her in her visions; and gradually Jilan began to relax his wariness and fear as he became more understanding of the Kauwlut language and culture.
Lyara had by now become so accustomed to Topiara's invasions into her mind that she soon became nonchalant in receiving her visions and trusted them implicitly. The golden stone would carry on mental conversations with her, telling her the story of her life in the highland camps as well as reverting to the unsettling vision of the strangely decorated flute that awaited her in the Southern lands. Over it all, the pressing need to find the captured boy was urged on her, as if finding the lost Sidon was an essential part of her actual quest of Power.
Topiara led them eastward over the flatlands, eastward and farther north as the weather turned even colder. Lyara was grateful for her first experience in the northern provinces of Talandria and the thin, silky undergarments both she and Jilan now wore at all times to keep from freezing in their saddles. Surefoot and Fleetwind soon grew long, heavy coats in sharp contrast to their usual, sleep appearance and seemed little bothered when the freezing winds would blow down from the north and make their riders shiver and huddle deeper into the fur cloaks for warmth.
"I don't wonder that F-f-father won't have given up on both Sidon and me by now," Jilan said with teeth chattering as the first heavy snow fell on their evening camp. "He never had much time for scholars either, s-s-so I suppose h-he figures the family better off without b-b-both of u-us."
"We w-won't have to worry about a s-search party when we g-g-get back," Lyara commented as she tried to snuggle closer to the struggling fire they had managed to build with dried grasses and what little wood they had been able to find in one of the straggled stands of brush. "I'm afraid that this storm means we'll have to t-take our ch-chances and join up with a camp for the winter. At least we both can speak some Kauwlut now."
"At this point, I wouldn't care if I were a captive; as long as I were sleeping somewhere warm and dry." Jilan moved closer to Lyara. "I don't think I'm able to take much more of this c-c-c-cold."
"Here," Lyara said quickly opening the huge wolf-skin robe around her shoulders and snuggling closer to the shivering young man before closing it around them both. They both sighed at the added warmth of an extra body flowed over them both. "Now, throw yours over our feet," she instructed, and Jilan made the directed move quickly and pulled the huge fur back closed over them gratefully.
"We should have thought about packing a shelter," Jilan said ruefully as he snuggled closer to the young woman and slowly stopped shivering so violently. "Although, I have to admit that this isn't so bad either."
Lyara turned to him, eyes wide; but his face showed no signs of what he was thinking. Topiara, responding to her unease, spoke quickly in the depths of her mind. "There is a way," she managed finally, "to use the snow to make a shelter against a storm. If we don't find a camp tomorrow, we'd better make one because this storm is only the first of many."
Jilan nodded in the direction of the ponies and the bundle of furs that both had stacked beside their saddles. "If we'd been thinking better, we would have sown some of those together already, and at least made something to keep out the wind." He moved his arm around Lyara's waist to ease the cramping of their closeness and felt her stiffen. "Hey, what is it?"
Lyara shook her head and steeled herself to not pull away from him. "Nothing," she replied softly. "I'm just not used to being this close to anybody else."
Jilan looked at her in surprise. "Has anyone ever hurt you, Lyara?" he asked, unable to imagine his capable guide as unable to defend herself against the most basic forms of assault a woman could encounter. Lyara ducked her head as her cheeks burned, unpleasant memories of Stepan and his wandering hands flooding her mind and making her shiver. Jilan read easily her discomfort and withdrew his arm. "Look. I didn't mean to make you think . . . I mean I wouldn't ever . . ."
"I know," Lyara whispered and forced herself to look up at him. "I just can't help it sometimes." The explanation further died before it was said as she studied closely Jilan's face, noting for the first time the laugh-lines on the sides of his eyes and softness of the pale blue orbs themselves. Although dusted with snow and wet where that show melted in contact with his skin, she knew that his hair was a vibrant gold that shone warm in the sunlight. He had a kind face, without the stern lines that usually came early to the more serious aristocrats she had come in contact with.
Jilan found himself getting lost in the ebony pools that studied him so seriously back, and he wondered that he could find anyone with dark hair and eyes attractive. Even the wolf fetish seemed to bring out a different kind of beauty in her, accenting the darkness of the long, flowing hair that tumbled in disarray about her shoulders and down over her breast to her waist. It was so different from the conception of beauty he had been taught to admire in Talandri, and he found himself in trigued and attracted by its strangeness. As if on its own volition, his arm snaked around her waist again; and this time he felt a hesitant acceptance of its presence. He would have bent his head to give her the gentlest of kisses, but a warning bell went off in his head cautioning him not to frighten her by pressing his luck too far.
Instead, he pulled her closer and cradled her head on his shoulder. "I'll take the watch tonight; you need to get some rest." He felt her nod agreement and smile, and then stifle a chuckle. "What's so funny?"
Lyara snickered again. "I just was thinking that it was just my luck, having to come all the way into the Kauwlut home lands at the beginning of winter to find an Talandri aristocrat who knew how to behave himself."
Jilan chuckled and gave her a quick hug. "Go to sleep, Lyara."
oOoOo
As his gentle shaking brought Lyara out of her tumbled dreams, she gradually awoke to find herself nestled down on Jilan's lap, completely covered over by the fur. She sat up quickly to find him smiling tiredly at her. "Now I know what you've been doing all this time, staying up most of the night keeping watch."
She looked out over the plains, finding it covered by a blanket of fresh snow that sparkled in the morning sunlight, and arose quickly as if distancing herself from him would help her overcome an odd sense of shyness at his touch. "We'd better get moving if we're going to catch up to the camp over that ridge," she said in a businesslike tone, pointing to the east.
"There's a camp over there?" Jilan asked quickly, rising himself and tossing her the robe that had covered their feet in the night. "How do you know - another vision?"
The memory of her dreams came tumbling back, and she turned to face him, face glowing both with cold and excitement. "And I'm fairly sure that it's the camp where Sidon is being held!"
"How far?" Jilan had caught some of her excitement, and he caught at her arm. "Are they moving? Are you sure Sidon's there?"
"Whoa! Wait a moment!" Lyara laughed at him. "Too many questions. No, they're not moving. No, I'm not absolutely sure Sidon's there, but I have a hunch that he is; and, from what I remember, the camp is about three or four hours' hard ride away."
Expressions of hope, anxiety and anticipation flitted alternately across his face as Jilan struggled with whether or not to trust the visions that had led them so far from the safety of the border. He looked from Lyara to the huddled ponies, covered with a dusting of snow that they had been unable to shake out of the long and heavy coats.
Lyara patted his shoulder. "Come on. I could use a hot meal, one way or the other."
"Wait a moment," Jilan caught a Lyara's sleeve. "It's going to be obvious that I'm not Kauwlut. How are you going to explain me to the camp?"
Lyara turned and gave Jilan an appraising look that brought a blush to his face, and she mentally posed the question to Topiara. The stone beneath her tunic warmed in response, and soon Lyara began to smile. "We'll just tell them that you are a trusted slave of mine, taken long ago in a raid. I'm obviously Kauwlut, and I doubt that they'll question us too closely if we don't stretch the truth too far." Her smile dies. "All we'll have to worry about is what will happen if Sidon recognizes you and betrays us in the process . . . I know he wouldn't do it on purpose!" she added quickly as Jilan opened his mouth to protest loudly.
Jilan subsided and then scowled at her sulkily. "A slave, huh?"
Lyara had a hard time keeping herself from smiling. "The more I think of it, the more I like it. I've always wondered what it would be like to be on the opposite end of such an arrangement."
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