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Topiara - Chapter 47
"…and that's when Ka'an asked me to be his i'ilim and come live with him in I'ilansru'an. Ki'ien was born to us eight turns ago." Ista let her hand rest gently and lovingly on the head of her son, seated in her lap. Behind her slightly, close enough that he was offering support, was the tall hunter Ka'an. Ista's i'ilim had remained silent throughout the Time of the Telling, as was the tradition; but now he was curious about the father of his mate.
"Why did you not come looking for Ista right away?" he asked the older man bluntly.
"I lost my ability to think clearly for a very long time," Farranby told his son-in-law simply. "I'd seen my i'ilim and sons killed – I thought I'd even seen my baby girl murdered. I wandered the land for a very long time – I even ended up here in the trees for a time. At no time did I doubt that my entire family was gone. Had I even the smallest hint that Vinzen had sold Herrista, I'd have been on his trail – and he'd never have made it to the trees." He turned his eyes on his daughter. "As it is, I'm just as glad the zumi got him – he deserved it for what he did to you."
"What now?" Ista asked gently. "I give thanks to the vri'i that have led you back to the trees and to find me, but I would know what you intend now that you HAVE found me?"
Farranby felt Sharin shift next to him, and knew that she'd wondered much the same thing for the entire journey. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I had barely allowed myself to believe that you could be alive – much less that we would find you so easily." He gazed at Ka'an and Ki'ien. "Now that I have found you, I know I couldn't ask you to come home with me – your home is here with your i'ilim and child. And my life has changed since I lost you…" He glanced up at Sharin. "I too have an i'ilim again."
Lyara leaned forward from where she and Jilan had taken a seat behind Farranby. "There's no need to make hasty decisions, my friend," she told him. "Finding your daughter was the reason you came to the trees – and it was part of why Jilan and I are here. However, we have other things we need to take care of. If Ista and Ka'an are willing, why don't you and Sharin stay here in I'ilansru'an while Jilan and I continue on. We can deliver Yiren safely to her Ru'an and then take care of our business – and stop here again on our way back to Talandria."
Farranby looked at his daughter and her i'ilim. "I wouldn't want to impose…"
Ka'an pointed to the pouch the older man wore, and to the blow pipe that draped across his other shoulder. "Tell me, Fa'aranby, do you know how to use what you carry?"
The older man nodded. "I did at one time. I will probably have to practice to get my accuracy back, but…"
Ka'an looked at Ista. "The h'sin always has use of hunters. His remaining would not burden us or the h'sin too much."
Farranby let his hand capture Sharin's. "What about my i'ilim?"
"Have you skills to offer?" Ista asked softly.
"I was a cook," Sharin answered and then pointed to the small bag she'd carried draped over one shoulder all the way from Caranth. "I carry with me my collection of herbs and spices…"
Ista began to smile. "I think you have plenty of skills to offer – even if only to let me remember what some of these things in my childhood were." She smiled at her i'ilim. I'm sure none would find us as causing trouble by allowing her to stay with my father."
Lyara worked hard to hide a quick frown. Topiara had suddenly begun whispering in her mind again, stirring up a strong sense of disquiet at the new turn of events – despite the fact that it was she herself who had suggested them. It didn't help that Jilan chose that moment to smile kindly at Yiren.
"It sounds as if it will be just the three of us taking you back to your Ru'an," he told the red-haired woman, and Lyara felt the upsurge of jealousy again almost overwhelm her.
"You will rest in our nets this night," Ista announced firmly. "Ki'ien and I will make sure that there are enough for all." She patted her son on the shoulder and then rose gracefully. "By rights, however, you should at least climb to the h'sun and announce your presence and your quest to the Rotal. Having his blessing on your journey – and letting him know of the sha'adrah you perform for Yiren – would be a wise thing." She moved toward the sleeping area and the basket in which extra netting was stored.
"Is Vanim still Rotal?" Farranby asked in quick curiosity.
"His daughter, Ni'ani," Ka'an shook his head. "Vanim's vri'i returned to the trees three years ago." The tall hunter blinked. "You knew him?"
"I was in service to Sylru'an – and traveled with him several times to I'ilansru'an when it was time for the Si'nat to meet. It was Vanim himself that gave me this." Farranby pulled on the tether that held the carved wooden fetish. "He told me that he didn't want me to become chan'vrii again, should I ever decide to return home."
"Then I'm sure Ni'ani would want to greet her father's old friend from far away and down below," Ka'an remarked. He looked over at the chan'vrii who, strangely enough, were performing sha'adrah. "You all should go – this is a Telling that shouldn't be denied the Rotal."
"I too would like to give my greetings to Ni'ani," Yiren declared. "My father brought me once to the Si'nat when I was very small, and Vanim held me on his lap as he spoke with the Ru'an." She bowed her head and put one arm across her chest. "I grieve the loss of his vri'i."
"It's getting late," Lyara stated. "If we need to stop at the h'sun before we go on, we should rest now and get up early."
Farranby rose and helped Sharin up, even as Jilan climbed to his feet and held his hand down to Lyara. "I'm sure we'll be sharing many Tellings together, Ka'an," he said, crossing his arms and bowing in the traditional manner. "I wish you pleasant dreams."
Jilan tightened his arms around Lyara. "What's wrong?"
She didn't dare sigh – he'd know that he'd penetrated her mood. "Nothing," she replied quietly so as not to awaken anyone in the room.
"Lya," he began cautiously, moving so that the net wrapped his lower limbs around hers, "I know you. You're stiff – and you haven't said three words to me since the Telling finished."
Now she did sigh and tried to force herself to relax. "Do you remember what happened a while back – I told you that I was arguing with Topiara, and having trouble trusting both myself and you?"
Jilan nodded and then nuzzled the back of her neck. "And you're back to that again?"
"I see you look at her," she began, knowing how childish and selfish she sounded, "and I see visions of your walking away… to be with Yiren…"
"When you look at Farranby – or even Ista's i'ilim Ka'an – what do you see?" he asked her after a long moment.
"Men," she answered with a confused frown. "Why?"
"Do you smile at Farranby? Joke with him sometimes?"
Lyara turned so that the two of them faced each other in the embracing net. "Of course I do. So…?"
"Does that mean that you love me any less?" he continued bluntly.
She was silenced for a long moment. "No, but…"
"Have I ever given you cause to think that the answer would be any different for me looking and smiling and laughing and joking with Yiren than it is for you looking and smiling and laughing and joking with Farranby?"
"There's a difference…" she sniffed unhappily.
"What difference?" he challenged.
"Farranby's nearly old enough to be my father," she pointed out sharply. "Yiren is young, beautiful… very dependent on you…"
"You are young, beautiful, and very dependent upon me as well – although not in the same kinds of ways that she is," Jilan pointed out in return. His hands stroked her back and her arms. "I wish sometimes that you could see yourself as I do – and know how proud I am that you chose ME to be your i'ilim." For some reason, the Vri'ia'ani word for their relationship just seemed to fit better than any other he could think of.
Lyara closed her eyes and tried to cling to his words. "Jilan…"
"I love YOU," he insisted, pulling her as close as possible to him, their legs tangling in the raised end of the netting. "I want to be with YOU – not Yiren," he murmured and began littering her shoulder and neck with hot kisses meant to arouse. Lyara groaned in pleasure as her body responded to his touch and his caresses, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly in return.
And for a short time, she forgot all about everything that Topiara had been whispering into her mind as she discovered just how comfortable the Vri'ia'ani sleeping nets were for things other than sleeping – and how pliant shi'ili clothing could be moved aside easily.
"You're very quiet," Sharin whispered to Farranby as she snuggled down against his warm body.
"I guess…" he began hesitantly, "I feel much as I did after we were finished with Vinzen – and before we discovered what he'd done to Herrista: a little empty, a little at a loss. My life has come to a major corner, and I'm not exactly sure what comes next."
"Are you disappointed?"
He shook his head. "No," he answered firmly. "She's grown up to be a strong and beautiful woman – and she has a family that loves her. How could I be disappointed?"
"Maybe by finding her not in need of rescuing?"
Farranby looked down and found Sharin's face turned up towards his in the darkness. "What do you mean?"
"You came here looking for a child – and you found a woman," she explained gently. "You may have expected to fight for her – and now all that energy you've been saving up is unnecessary."
Farranby thought about what she'd said for a long moment, and then ran a gentle finger over her cheek. "You're very wise for your age," he whispered to her and kissed her gently. "The Gods were being very kind to me to bring me to you."
"They were kind in bringing you to my uncle's inn, that's for sure," she agreed easily. "They were generous when they let you begin to love me the way I loved you."
Farranby's lips closed over hers again in a kiss that grew quickly in intensity and passion until they both were gasping for breath. Hands began stroking the other, moving shi'ili aside to get to more sensitive flesh; and soon there were soft sighs of pleasure given and received.
Yiren lay quiet in her net and couldn't help but hear the very soft sounds coming from the other end of the room, where the i'ilim nets had been hung. Not far away, she could hear the sound of Ki'ien's soft sleeping breath – and for the first time in her adult life, felt alone.
Had she grown up in the trees, she too would have had her i'ilim by now – perhaps even a son as strong and capable as Ki'ien. It wasn't right, she thought with a touch of bitterness. Why did the slavers have to catch ME?
She knew what her fate would be when she was finally returned home to her Mother tree and her parents – if they still lived. She would spend a time of notoriety – after all, she'd lived among the chan'vrii and come back to the trees to tell the tale. And yet, underneath, she would be viewed now as different. It ultimately would make little difference that her vri'i had had safe shelter within which to weather life on the floor of the world – she'd been touched by the chan'vrii world.
What kind of man would come seeking an i'ilim who had been touched by and lived surrounded by chan'vrii?
She turned her ears to the net in which Ista and Ka'an rested and, once more, heard the soft sounds of i'ilim finding pleasure in the other. Then again, she considered, Ista had found a good and decent i'ilim despite being chan'vrii when she'd been brought to the trees. Perhaps not all was lost after all…
She rolled in the comfortable arms of her net, trying not to listen to the sound of Jilan's soft cries of pleasure. She could have learned to appreciate life on the floor of the world with that one – were it not for the fact that he already was spoken for. What was more, however, she knew that even though his eyes rested gently on her from time to time, the tenderest glances were the ones he saved solely for his i'ilim.
She was halfway home – a day spent visiting with the new Rotal and her advisors, and then another tenday's worth of steady walking would bring her back to Ta'alanru'an – and these people were still in the middle of performing sha'adrah. She was honor-bound, if she had any consideration for the vri'i that surrounded her, to do her best to protect and nurture the i'ilim bonding of those who were helping her. Already Mistress Lyara had spoken of how fragile those bonds were to her – another who had been ripped from her childhood home and forced to make a new life for herself among strangers in a strange land. How could simple sympathy and understanding not mean that she'd avoid any possibility of touching those tender bonds with anything but respect?
And yet… The yellow-haired man was a gentle man, respectful and intelligent. Any would be honored to call him i'ilim…
Yiren closed her eyes and was unable to prevent dreams of that which could never be allowed to happen to fill her mind with want for that which she should never have.
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