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Topiara - Chapter 50
Lyara moaned as she made her way up from what seemed like a bottomless pit of darkness, pulled toward consciousness by the sharp pain in her thigh. As she slowly started to assess her condition, she tried to move – and her eyes slowly opened in surprise. Bound hand and foot with her hands behind her, she was unable to do more than just roll slightly and take the pressure from the spot where the blowgun dart had pierced her leg. It took a few more moments to realize that she no longer had the comfortable hum of energy in the back of her mind.
Panicked, she looked down – and saw that she no longer wore either the vri'ih'sun given her by the Rotal or the pouch in which she'd kept Topiara close to her heart. Wide-eyed, she looked around madly to see where her power-stone was being kept only to find nothing but the waist-high walls of a h'sini'il shelter and the woven vine inner walls that still were too tall for her to see over as she lay helpless on the floor. Her mouth and throat refused to cooperate with her – she had no way to call out to Jilan or Yiren for assistance, if indeed they were anywhere within hearing range in the first place.
Except for the fact that there were no screams of horror and pain from her fellow captives, it was as if she'd stepped back in time to when she was still a young girl freshly taken from her father's tent by the Talandri raiders. Lyara fought hard to keep from being overwhelmed by her fear and the horror of her memories, breathing deeply in a way that her Master Vandor had taught her for facing inhospitable seas. Slowly she was able to get her wildly-pounding heartbeat to regain something approaching a normal rhythm, and gradually her muscles seemed to be relearning to respond to her wishes.
When she finally had enough control over her legs and arms, she began to scoot across the rough woven-vine floor toward the interior wall. It took several tries, but finally she was able to push herself to a sitting position against the wall. Now that she was more awake, she could begin to hear the sound of argument a few rooms away – and what she thought she could recognize as Yiren's voice participating in the argument. "But there is no reason for them to want to come this deep into the Great Forest, Ru'an. The Tala'andri have no overwhelming interest in us – their land is great and broad and filled with people. Except for the few who make their livelihoods from the taking of others as workers, most are content to just live in peace."
"Then why do those whom you claim perform sha'adrah carry weapons, Yiren of Tala'an?"
"It is the way of Tala'andri, Ru'an," Yiren exclaimed tiredly. "I've told you this before."
"Even Tala'andri women carry deadly weapons?" The Ru'an's voice was openly shocked.
"Lya'ara is not as most Tala'andri. She isn't even Tala'andri – she comes from a land beyond the grasses, from a people called the Kauwlut. Like me, she was taken from her clan and family and made to work hard – and eventually bought her freedom."
"And the man? You aren't going to try to convince me that he's not Tala'andri…"
"He is the i'ilim of Lya'ara, and through his association with her, has lost his place within his society." Yiren's voice became harsh. "I'm telling you, they pose no threat to you or to any of the Ru'an."
"What about this?" The Ru'an evidently was showing Yiren something, for there was a pause where there was nothing but silence.
"I knew she wore something in the pouch – I've just never seen it before," Yiren said softly. "It's beautiful."
Lyara's heart sank. They had Topiara – and were looking at it! Is this what the man from whom Karlo had stolen the power stone in the first place felt as he'd lost contact with it? How empty life seemed now without Topiara in her mind, however much of a nuisance she'd considered it before!
"There is a way to be sure of the intentions of these two," the Ru'an's voice allowed with an obvious touch of reluctance. "If your chan'vrii companions are willing to chance the Fa'unshah…"
"They are brave," Yiren stated with a confidence that startled Lyara. "Allow me to speak to them and explain what would be required of them."
"The yellow-hair is over there," the Ru'an stated. "Speak to Li'ish when you've done, and he will take you to the woman. Perhaps she will be able to talk by the time you're ready to see her."
Lyara closed her eyes. There was little else she could do in the time before Yiren would be brought to her. She wondered briefly what exactly this 'Fa'unshah' entailed – and then knew without a doubt that she'd do practically anything to get Topiara back. She wondered then that Jilan had evidently not lost Rodayn – perhaps he had handed over his bow and arrows willingly. Farranby had warned her about any show of defiance or refusal, as well as the slightest show of violence, hadn't he?
She hadn't listened. If she lost Topiara now, it would be her fault – just as Nilyaron had warned her.
Miserable, Lyara leaned her head against the woven wall and waited.
"Lyara." Yiren's hand landed on her shoulder and shook gently. "Wake up."
Lyara's dark eyes opened immediately. "I heard," she told the Vri'ia'ani woman. "Just what is this 'Fa'unshah' your Ru'an spoke of?"
"It is a test of intent and vri'i," Yiren answered, crouching down next to her companion. "A fa'un is a creature that lives within the living trees of the forest, although it does no harm to the tree that is its host. It is sensitive to the emotions and attitudes of those who live and move amid the trees to the point that it can tell when one states that which is unreal or intended to deceive."
"A Truth-Teller," Lyara gaped. "I'd heard rumors, but I never thought…"
Yiren waved her hand and cut off Lyara's commentary. "The fa'un that dwells within the Ru'an tree of Chi'uchi is brought forth and placed upon your skin. You will then be questioned. If you lie, or if you try to deceive, the fa'un will sense it and begin to burrow through your skin. The bite of the fa'un is fatal." The young woman gazed evenly at the Kauwlut. "The Ru'an knows that this is a tried and proven test that will prove either that you have deceived me – or that you are truly no threat to the Forest or the Vri'ia'ani."
"I will face your Truth-Teller," Lyara said calmly, looking Yiren directly in the eye. "We mean no harm to you, your people, or the trees. I am not afraid."
Yiren's face broke into an easy smile. "Jilan's answer was much as yours. His Fa'unshah will happen just before the evening meal – I will inquire as to when yours will take place."
"The sooner, the better," Lyara told the woman she'd been escorting and learning from. "Tell me – should we pass this Fa'unshah, will our belongings be returned to us?"
"You mean the pouch with the stone that glows from within?" Yiren asked with a knowing look.
Lyara did her best not to look either guilty or nervous at how well the Vri'ia'ani woman had plumbed her thoughts. "And my sword – and the bag with the food we've been gathering…"
"If you pass the Fa'unshah, everything that has been taken from you will be restored, and I can promise that none will question your intent or motives again – not even my Uncle."
Lyara raised her brows. Yiren hadn't told her the entire story yet. "Why not?"
Yiren merely gazed at her. "The touch of the fa'un to the bare skin leaves a mark that will never go away. That you have been touched and given permission to move among the trees by the trees themselves will from that point on never be questioned." She looked down. "Those who wear the mark of the fa'un are honored. I have no idea what being chan'vrii and wearing fa'unsha'in will mean as time passes – but it will assure you that none will question or accost you again."
The young Vri'ia'ani woman rose to her feet. "I must tell the Ru'an of your decision to face the Fa'unshah. They will come for you when the time is near – remember the advice Farranby gave you."
"I won't make the mistake of arguing or struggling again, believe me!" Lyara exclaimed earnestly.
Yiren leaned down and touched Lyara's breast where her vri'ih'sun had lain. "I know your vri'i to be a strong one – and I know the fa'un will understand your mind. I have faith."
Lyara gazed at the red-haired woman that had been the target of so much jealousy and distrust over this trek. "I appreciate that," she replied in a soft voice. "I owe you an apology for my treatment of you, Yiren. I've been…"
"I understand," Yiren replied with a smile. "In your place, I would have done the same." She gave her a quick bow with folded arms and hurried off in the direction that Lyara assumed would take her back to the Ru'an.
Again Lyara sighed and leaned her head back against the woven wall with nothing to do but wait and wonder – and wish that she could at least do her waiting with Jilan's company to keep her from jumping out of her skin.
True to her word, she didn't struggle against the strong and rough hands that dragged her to her feet after using a very thin and sharp blade to slice through the woven threads that had bound her feet together. She didn't speak a word as she was half-escorted, half-dragged through openings in the low interior walls until she had been taken from the shelter and walked across the h'sun platform to another structure. Inside the structure, she was brought up through a crowd of nearly a hundred Vri'ia'ani until she was facing a dour-faced man with liberal dashes of grey through his red hair and a deeply etched face.
"I am Ru'an Chi'uchi," the old man stated very slowly and deliberately, as if he wasn't sure that the dark-haired woman facing could understand his words.
"I am Lyara Chivan of the Kauwlut," Lyara answered with a clear voice. "I understand you would test my reasons for being here. I'm ready for your test."
The Ru'an made a quick gesture, and Lyara felt her feet swept out from beneath her so that she landed hard on her back on the woven floor with the wind knocked from her lungs and her arms aching. There was a murmur as a young man with a container made from a hollowed branch came and knelt next to her – and then tipped the contents of the container into the hollow of her throat.
Lyara grimaced but managed not to let loose even the slightest sound of pain as the fa'un – which was a huge, round white worm easily as long as her hand and a big around as her thumb curled up into the center of her throat. The mere touch of the creature to her skin had begun a sharp, burning sensation, as if a coal from a cooking fire had landed on her. She wanted to squirm – to scream – but didn't dare. She was Kauwlut – and Kauwlut were strong.
"Do you seek to give information to the yellow-hairs in preparation for warriors having foreknowledge of the ways of the Great Forest?" the Ru'an asked her in a booming voice.
"No." It was the truth. She'd promised to tell Lyndon of what she found – but not with a mind to aiding in an invasion. "I came for two reasons only originally – to help my friend seek out his lost daughter, and to finish a quest set me by the Oracle Nilyaron. In the process of accomplishing my first goal of helping my friend, I agreed to escort Yiren of Tala'anru'an back to her home – and it is that task that I seek to finish now. I wish no harm to you, your people or the trees."
At her throat, the fa'un squirmed slightly, but otherwise the pain remained a constant. There was a long silence, as if the Ru'an and the observers were waiting for the scream of the fatal bite. Lyara finally started hearing shuffling from the audience, as if they were growing both impatient and nervous at the way this ritual was being conducted.
"You will not raise your weapon against the Vri'ia'ani?" the Ru'an asked next, his voice indicating his displeasure at the way in which the fa'un was acting. Obviously he'd expected her to lie and be writhing or dead at his feet by now.
"I will raise my weapon only when threatened and left with no defense except that which I can provide for myself." Again the fa'un twitched, but Lyara knew that she was telling the truth. If the legends of this little creature were true, it would know that and act accordingly.
There was a long moment of silence, during which the touch of the creature continued to burn her throat. Then a voice Lyara didn't know called out: "She tells the truth – the fa'un does not bite."
"They both told the truth and have passed the Fa'unshah, Ru'an!" exclaimed another unidentified voice. "They must be set free."
"But they are chan'vrii," the Ru'an countered in exasperation. "They are not to be trusted."
"They both had vri'ih'sun, Ru'an," Yiren called out in a clear voice, "and the fa'un has found no deception in either of them. Their vri'i is not as ours, perhaps, but the fa'un knows truth from falsehood. By the laws of the Forest, they cannot be doubted and must be set free!"
"Fa'unshah! Fa'unshah!" The chant became rhythmic and every iteration had more and more voices joining in.
"Enough!" the Ru'an shouted, and suddenly Lyara felt someone fumbling with the creature at her throat – lifting it away. Hands that were much more respectful and gentle helped her to her feet while someone else wielded another one of the thin, sharp blades to slice through the chu'ichi threads that held her hands behind her. Lyara pulled her hands to her chest, massaging first one wrist and then the other where the threads had almost cut into her skin – and then looked up as the Ru'an approached her with two attendants, each with a flat wooden platter in his hand.
On the platter to the left lay her sword, her vri'ih'sun and the pouch that safely hid Topiara from view – lumpy from the stone within. On the platter to the right were Jilan's bow and arrows. "Your belongings," the old man grumbled, barely looking her in the eye.
"Lyara." Jilan's voice sounded before he came into view looking none the worse for wear except for an extremely angry red patch at the base of his throat that Lyara knew probably matched her own. She grabbed both Topiara and her vri'ih'sun from the platter even as Jilan reached out for his bow and arrows. She put the two thin straps over her head in a single move, retrieved her sword. Then, scabbard in hand, she took the two limping steps that would put her safely into her lover's embrace.
Yiren pushed her way through the crowd to her companions' side and gazed at them with a brilliant smile on her face. "Now you can walk proudly through the Great Forest and be known as true friends of the Vri'ia'ani," she announced in a joyful voice, and then lifted her eyes to the Ru'an. "My friends have not eaten," she reminded the h'sun leader.
The Ru'an made a quick gesture, and Yiren put her hands on the shoulders of her companions. "Come. This night you will dine well. It will be a point of honor for Chi'uchi to make you comfortable after having forced you to face the Fa'unshah to prove your mettle."
Lyara's eyes hadn't left her i'ilim, checking him for any other signs of abuse – and to make sure that the pouch that held Rodayn was still safely hanging from about his neck. She put out a hesitant forefinger to almost touch the angry and increasingly raised patch of red at his throat, even as Jilan made a similar move toward her. "Are you all right?" she asked quietly.
"I'll be fine, now that I know you're safe," he answered firmly, and then shook his head. "I've not been so afraid for you since you took that poisoned blade in your side."
"We have food and drink set aside for you," the Ru'an approached them finally. "Please, refresh yourselves – and enjoy the comfort of our nets for the night." He bowed very formally to the three of them and then turned his back on the group and walked away.
Lyara glanced at Yiren suspiciously. "Are we still in trouble with him?" she asked cautiously.
"No," the young woman answered quietly, "but his judgment may end up being challenged for having called for the Fa'unshah for those performing sha'adrah and having his doubts proven unfounded. I told you, sha'adrah is a sacred task – those who perform it are traditionally accorded all courtesy and respect. Chi'uchi has just broken that tradition – and there will be consequences."
"Let's not worry about that now," Jilan spoke softly into Lyara's ear. "Let's get some food and then get some sleep."
Topiara whispered agreement in the back of Lyara's mind, making her smile with relief. That which had been lost had been returned. Perhaps Nilyaron had misinterpreted the signs. As she limped with Jilan's supportive arm wrapped tightly about her waist toward where the Ru'an had indicated their meal lay, she sincerely prayed to the Wolf Faced One that her doubts and misgivings would now come to an end.
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