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Topiara - Chapter 15
Lyon-Khan proved to be an excellent host, even by Talandri standards. He had, in the very first day of their stay in the camp, assigned a slight girl called Sparrow-Song to Lyara and ordered her to fulfill every wish of the High-born. Food, as a result, was plentiful and arrived on time. Jilan, with Lyara's permission, took the opportunity to establish a working rela tionship with the Kauwlut girl and learn more about what the Kauwlut expected of their slaves without raising many eyebrows. Knowing, however, that Sparrow-Song was most likely taking a detailed account of what was said back to the young leader, Jilan made sure to complain about the conditions and his mistress at every opportunity that came along.
Life in the Kauwlut camp slowed considerably during the season of the snows, especially when the freezing winds blew for days at a time. Smallish tents had been erected to protect the precious cooking fires and the women who tended them in front of practi cally every larger family dwelling. Lyara found the time of waiting long but fruitful, since Topiara kept up a continual monologue offering new insights into her background and ideas about successfully bringing Sidon out of the camp. She had meant her warning to Jilan very seriously, for inasmuch as he played his role of complainer to the hilt, she saw to it that he received verbal lashings in the presence of witnesses every day.
Sidon attended on his captor at every step, and was ex pected to be present every time the young Kauwlut leader visited his "distinguished" guests. Lyara quickly offered the explana tion of loneliness for one's own kind for the interest the small lad paid to the older Talandrian, an excuse Lyon-Khan had no reason to doubt and accepted with grudging grace. By the fourth day of the storm cycle, Sidon had become a regular visitor in Lyara and Jilan's tent with his captor's blessing.
The evening of the fourth night turned out to be a council night, when the entire band would gather in the largest tent with all the children and slaves for solving problems and dis putes that had arisen in the previous twelve days. When all was settled satisfactorily for all, the storytelling would begin. Children would settle into their parents' arms or laps and all would lean forward eagerly to hear the story that the shaman had chosen to relate. This evening, Cloud-Rider had chosen to relate a cautionary tale of a Talandri raid into Kauwlut lands. Even Jilan now understood enough Kauwlut to be able to follow the tale somewhat.
"This was in the days of green grass, many cycles ago. I was still living with my father in the camp of Chivan Khan Lorik. We were camped on the bluffs less than a day's ride from the Talandri lands. Lorik-Khan was a peaceable leader, not making many raids south in the many years I spent traveling with him. The band had grown large and contented, even having had limited trade contact with the southern pales. For many cycles life was like this.
"But there was a band of Yinsha clan camped four days west who would make regular raids south to gather slaves and specie. The pales, without our knowing this, did not understand that the two clans were not the same; and so one night they in turn raided Lorik-Khan. Many of our band were killed or taken into slavery. Lorik himself was killed that night, as was my own father. Many young girls were thrown over Talandri horse and taken away to unknown tasks and disgraces, including the daugh ter of Lorik.
"I tell this tale tonight because it is important to know that trusting your enemy is a sure way to defeat yourself. Never again have the Kauwlut trusted the pales enough to try trading again. Never again have the Kauwlut bands camped so close to Talandri lands. We have amongst us Talandri slaves. We cannot trust them any more than we can trust another enemy. We are enjoined by the Wolf-Faced One to care for all able-bodied men as we would our own selves, so our slaves are not mistreated. But we must never forget the treachery of which an enemy is capable."
Lyara shivered, as Topiara revealed the memory that she had buried so deep in her mind - her own capture and subsequent misuse at the hands of Talandri raiders. Cloud-Rider had told her own story! She was the daughter of Lorik - and now the vision of her father had a name to go with it. It took a great effort for Lyara not to express the pain and sadness the memory evoked and struggled to remain visibly no more moved by the story than any of the others in the tent.
"Do you remember this raid, Lyara-Chivan?" Lyon-Khan asked his guest in a show of good will. To be invited to speak at the telling-time was an honor.
Lyara cleared her throat awkwardly, making Jilan look at her sharply. "I remember hearing my uncle speak of this when I was a child," she admitted slowly. "Our band was at a safer distance, and so not attacked. But there were many of my own blood killed and taken that night."
Cloud-Rider's brows pulled together in thoughtful concen tration. His memory of that night was most clear. It was the duty of a shaman to remember the events of the clan. Suddenly the name Lyara-Chivan was nagging at the back of his mind. But why?
Preoccupied, Cloud-Rider gestured at the drummers to begin the beat that would accompany the chanting of the legends, the final ritual of the telling. He would watch the Highborn carefully, to see if she really was the one.
"Did you see the old shaman watching you, Lyara?" Jilan asked quietly when they had returned once more to their dark tent.
"No," she returned tiredly. "Why?"
Jilan shrugged as he lit the oil lamp that hung from at loop attached to the center pole. "He began to watch you so very carefully toward the end. And I thought there might be something . . ."
"He may be remembering better than I had thought," Lyara sighed as she set about starting the small fire in the center of the tent to burning again for warmth. "The story he told tonight was mine. I had forgotten him entirely."
"Your story!" Jilan gaped.
"I am Lyara-Chivan. In that I did not lie to Lyon-Khan. My father was Lorik-Chivan, leader of the Sky-bird band of the Chivan clan."
"And you know Cloud-Rider?"
"I knew him then. He has changed, gotten older and become a shaman. I do not know him now."
Jilan frowned and set about arranging the bedding-robes to give himself something to do beside pace. "Do you think he will cause us trouble?"
"I don't know," Lyara admitted quietly, making Jilan pause in his task to look at her. She raised her head to look direct ly into his eyes. "I suppose it will depend on whether he feels that we are enemies or not."
The scratch on the flap of the tent made them both jump. "May I enter, High-born?"
Lyara and Jilan looked at each other quickly. It was Cloud-Rider. Lyara made a small gesture that expressed the knowledge that they had no choice, and then answered, "Indeed. It is cold. Warm yourself at our fire."
Cloud-Rider pushed aside the flap and came into the dimly lit tent slowly. He nodded gratitude as Lyara motioned for him to be seated, and found a comfortable spot close to the flames. He studied the woman's face intensely for a long moment. Final ly he said quietly, "I had not thought to see you again in this life."
"Nor I you," Lyara nodded.
Cloud-Rider motioned in Jilan's direction. "Is this your Talandri master?"
"NO!" she retorted quickly. "I am nobody's property but my own."
Cloud-Rider watched the play of expressions across both her face and the southerner's. "If not so, then what do you here? Is this really your Talandri slave?"
Lyara shook her head but did not answer. Cloud-Rider narrowed his eyes. "Do you come as a Kauwlut to this camp, or as a Talandri?"
"As neither," Lyara answered finally. "Jilan is the cousin to the little Talandri slave that belongs to Lyon-Khan. He asked for my help in rescuing Sidon."
Cloud-Rider could see the truth in what she was saying, and settled back somewhat. "This is the lad's name? Sidon?"
Jilan nodded cautiously. Lyara looked a silent warning at him, and then faced the shaman again. "You told my story well this evening, shaman. What you did not tell, because you had no way of knowing, is what it is like to be a captive enslaved in a strange land with no memory of your past but that which your captors give you. But this is a tale that I will never share, for I see no need for it.
"But, it is also the reason I agreed to guide Jilan here. I know the feelings that the boy has. I know the loneliness and fear he feels. My reasons have nothing to do with being Kauwlut or Talandri. To live as a captive is wrong."
"Your words speak the truth, as they always did, Lyara," Cloud-Rider remarked after a few moments. "I cannot say that I would not have done the same thing if I had been in your place. You come back as neither Kauwlut nor enemy, but just to right a wrong. This I can accept."
"But you will tell Lyon-Khan," Jilan blurted. Lyara shot him a withering glare, but Cloud-Rider merely shook his head.
"You have lived among us for days as Kauwlut. You do not come raiding. As long as the way you affect the rescue of the young one is within the Laws of the Wolf-Faced One, I have no reason to say anything to Lyon-Khan. You have, as yet, told no unforgivable lies that endanger the camp."
"Your father would have been proud of the wisdom you show now as shaman, Cloud-Rider," Lyara commented in quiet gratitude.
Cloud-Rider gazed with admiration at the daughter of a long-dead leader he had looked up to. "And your father, too, would have much pride in you, Lyara-Chivan. But you say your memories have been taken from you. How do you know that..."
"They are slowly being returned to me as I travel the Kauwlut lands. That, too, was a reason for agreeing to come here."
"Then may your trail lie straight and smooth, Lyara-Chivan. And may the Wolf-Faced One look with kindness upon you as you roam his lands."
Jilan waited for the tent flap to settle back into place behind the shaman before expelling a long-held breath. "Is he really going to keep quiet about our real reason for being here?"
"Cloud-Rider is a shaman. His word is to be trusted always."
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