The Treasured One

There it was again. Ashad obviously knew Yaltar’s true name, even as Eleria did. ‘The people of the South are farmers, Ashad,’ I explained. ‘They grow much of their food in the ground instead of concentrating on hunting the way our people do. They had to cut down the trees to give themselves open ground for planting, so the land down there doesn’t look at all like the land up here. What else happened in your dream?’

Ashad pushed his yellow hair out of his eyes. ‘Well,’ he continued, ‘it seemed that there were a whole lot of those nasty things coming into the Domain of Vash – sort of like the things that crawled down into Balacenia’s Domain a little while ago.’ The boy put the shiny black stone down on the table and ate more of the red berries.

There it was again. It was obvious now that the Dreamers were, perhaps unconsciously, stepping over the barrier I’d so carefully set up between them and their past.

‘Anyway,’ Ashad continued, ‘there were outlanders there, and they were fighting the nasty things just like they did in Balacenia’s Domain, but then things got very confusing. A whole lot of other outlanders came up across Mother Sea from the South, but it didn’t seem like they were interested in the war very much, because they spent all their time talking to the farmers about somebody called Amar. The ones who were doing all the talking were wearing black robes, but there were some others who wore red clothes, and they were pushing the farmers around and making them listen while the ones in black talked. That went on for quite a while, and then the outlanders in the South got all excited, and they started to run north toward a great big waterfall, and the other outlanders – the ones who got there first – sort of got out of their way for while, and then when everybody got to that waterfall, it looked to me like everybody was trying to kill everybody else, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t understand exactly what was going on.’

‘I’ve heard that dreams are like that, Ashad. I don’t need to sleep, so I don’t really know what dreams are all about.’ I hesitated. ‘Where did you find that shiny black rock?’ I asked, more to change the subject than out of any real curiosity.

‘It was in the back of the cave where Mama Broken-Tooth sleeps in the winter,’ Ashad replied. ‘She had three cubs while she was sleeping this past winter, and while you were busy helping your sister Zelana, I went to her cave to see them. They’re sort of the brothers of me and Long-Claw, aren’t they? I mean, Mama Broken-Tooth nursed me and Long-Claw when we were just cubs, and now she’s nursing the three new ones. That sort of makes us relatives of some kind, doesn’t it?’

‘I suppose so, yes.’

‘Anyway, the three new cubs were making those funny little sounds bear-cubs always make when they’re nursing, and Mama Broken-Tooth was cuddling them like she used to cuddle Long-Claw and me when we were just cubs.’ He picked up the shiny stone. ‘This is an agate, isn’t it?’ he asked, holding it out to me.

I took the stone, but almost dropped it when I sensed the enormous power emanating from it. ‘I think you’re right, Ashad. Black agates are very rare, though.’

‘It’s pretty, and I really liked it when I first saw it. I asked Mama Broken-Tooth if I could have it, and she told me to go ahead and take it. I used to carry it with me wherever I went, but then I mislaid it, I guess, but when I woke up this morning, there it was right in my bed with me. Isn’t that odd?’

I laughed. ‘I think this might just be the year of “odd”, Ashad,’ I said. ‘It seems like every time I turn around there are piles and piles of “odd” staring me in the face. How did the rest of your bears come through this past winter?’

‘Just fine, uncle,’ Ashad replied. ‘There are lots and lots of new cubs.’ He suddenly grinned broadly, shaking off his gloomy expression. ‘Baby bears are so much fun. They do all sorts of funny things that make their mothers terribly grouchy. Just last week Mama Broken-Tooth was scooping fish out of a stream – you know, throwing them up on the riverbank the way bears always do – but her three cubs thought she was playing, so they were swatting the fish back into the stream. When she saw what they were doing, she came running out of the water, gave them a few swats, and then chased them up a tree and made them stay up there for the rest of the day. I laughed, but she growled at me. She didn’t seem to think it was funny at all.’

‘Will you be all right here by yourself for a few days, Ashad? I need to go talk with my brother and my sisters. There are some things they need to know about.’

‘I’ll be fine, uncle. I was over in the village of Asmie the other day, and Tlingar promised to teach me how to use a spear-thrower – that long, limber stick the man-things around here use to whip their spears out there a long, long way. Tlingar’s just about the best there is with the spear-thrower, isn’t he?’

‘He keeps the people of Asmie eating regularly, that much is certain,’ I agreed. ‘I shouldn’t be too long, Ashad. If you get tired of throwing spears, you might want to go play with Mama Broken-Tooth’s three cubs. If they’re as frisky as you suggested, poor Mama Broken-Tooth’s probably exhausted by now. Give her a little time to rest up. Like they always say, “Be nice to the neighbors, and they’ll be nice to you.” I’d better get started. I’d like to talk with Aracia before her priests get her involved in all those silly ceremonies.’

‘Say hello to Enalla for me, uncle.’

There it was again. Ashad had just used Aracia’s Dreamer Lillabeth’s real name. Despite all my careful manipulation, the Dreamers kept pulling bits and pieces of reality up through the barriers I’d put between them and the past. I shuddered to think of what might happen if the Dreamers stumbled across some things far more significant than just their names.

I told my tiny, glowing sun to stay behind, and then I went to the long, twisting passageway that led out to the open air.

The morning light of early summer was golden as I came up out of my cave under Mount Shrak. I summoned my thunderbolt and rode on down toward the south-east to the Domain of my elder sister Aracia.

Aracia’s Domain is much like the Domain of our baby brother Veltan, with vast wheat fields stretching from horizon to horizon like some enormous green carpet in the early summer sun. I hate to admit it, but the introduction of wheat farming and bread has brought much more stability to the Domains of Aracia and Veltan than the sometimes catch-as-catch-can quality of life in my Domain and Zelana’s, where the land is primarily devoted to hunting and fishing. There has to be more to life than just munching on a piece of half-moldy bread, though. I’m fairly sure that Aracia and Veltan view me as some sort of primitive antique, but I know better. The people of their Domains are little more than cattle. They move around in herds, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to discover that ‘moo’ crops up in their dialect quite frequently.

The people of my Domain – and of Zelana’s – are fiercely independent. Nobody – not even me or Zelana – tells them what they must do. To my way of looking at things, those farmers more closely resemble the mindless servants of the Vlagh than they do real people.

You don’t necessarily need to tell Aracia or Veltan that I just said that.

Where was I? Oh, yes, now I remember. I’m fairly certain that it was farming that ultimately led to religion in Aracia’s Domain. Once the spring planting is finished, a farmer really has nothing significant to do until harvesting in the autumn, and that gives him far too much time for speculation. As long as people concentrate on such things as what they are going to eat tomorrow or how they’re going to avoid freezing to death when winter rolls around again, there’s a certain practicality in their lives. It’s when the people have enough free time to begin asking such questions as ‘Who am I?’ or ‘How did I get here?’ that things start getting wormy.

I’ve periodically ranged out beyond the Land of Dhrall to observe the progress of the outlanders, and I’ve noticed that the more intelligent ones spend a lot of their time brooding about mysterious gods. That isn’t necessary here in the Land of Dhrall, of course, since it’s very likely that the god of any particular region lives just over the hill or down the street.

Some of the people of Aracia’s Domain saw a glorious opportunity there. Aracia could tamper with the weather, if she chose to, and that produced abundant crops, and the displays of gratitude of her subject people were usually grossly overdone. Had one of my people gone to such extremes, I’d have laughed in the fool’s face.

Aracia, however really enjoyed all the groveling and excessive displays of gratitude. Deep down, Aracia adores being adored. I’d been the first of our family to awaken during this cycle, so I was nominally in charge of things this time. Aracia had been the second to awaken, but deep in her heart she yearns to be first, so she encourages her people to continue their overdone displays of gratitude, and the more clever among them, sensing that need, exaggerate their thanks to the level of absurdity, erecting temples and altars, and prostrating themselves each time she passes.

Aracia thinks that’s awfully nice of them.

Aracia’s need for adoration has attracted many of the less industrious men of her domain, and over the years this has produced a sizeable town, and that in turn has brought assorted tradesmen to the place. I’m sure that Aracia’s temple-town is the closest thing to a city in the entire Land of Dhrall. The large stone buildings are covered with a white plaster and their roofs are made of red tile. The narrow streets have been paved over with large flagstones, and the town is at least a mile wide.

At the very center, of course, is Aracia’s enormous temple with gleaming white spires reaching up toward the sky. To be perfectly honest, the whole place seems just a little silly to me.

When my thunderbolt deposited me in Aracia’s marble-pillared throne-room, her overfed sycophants either fainted dead away or fled in terror. I smiled faintly. Nothing in the world seems to get everybody’s immediate attention more quickly than a thunderbolt.

Aracia’s golden throne stood on a marble pedestal, and there were red drapes behind it. ‘Have you ever considered letting me know when you’re coming, Dahlaine?’ my splendidly dressed sister demanded in an icy tone of voice.

‘I just did,’ I replied bluntly. ‘Are your ears starting to fail, Aracia? Any time you hear thunder, it’s probably me.’ I looked around my sister’s throne-room and saw a fair number of wide-eyed clergymen trying to conceal themselves behind the marble pillars at the sides of the vast chamber. ‘Let’s go find someplace private, dear sister. There are some things you should know about, and I don’t have all that much time.’

‘You’re very rude, Dahlaine. Did you know that?’

‘It’s a failing of mine. Over the years, I’ve found that “polite” is a waste of time, and I’m just a bit busy right now. Shall we go?’ I’ve long since discovered that abruptness is the best way to get Aracia’s immediate attention. Any time I give her the least bit of slack, she’ll lapse into ‘ceremonial’, and that usually takes at least half a day.

Aracia looked more than a little offended, but she did rise up from her golden throne and step down off the pedestal to lead the way out of her ornate throne-room.

‘What’s got you so stirred up today, big brother?’ Aracia asked as we proceeded down a long, deserted hallway.

‘Let’s hold off until we get to some private place,’ I suggested. ‘There’s trouble in the wind, and I don’t think we should alarm the people of your Domain just yet.’

Aracia led the way into a rather plain room and closed the door behind us. We sat down in large wooden chairs on opposite sides of an ornately carved table.

‘Are you sure that none of your people can hear us here?’

‘Of course they can’t, Dahlaine,’ she replied. ‘This room’s one of those “special” places. Nobody’ll be able to hear us, because the room isn’t really here.’

‘How did you manage that?’

She shrugged. ‘A slight adjustment of time is all it takes. This room is two days older than the rest of the temple, so we’re talking to each other two days ago.’

‘Clever,’ I said admiringly.

‘I’m glad you like it. What’s happening that’s got you so stirred up, Dahlaine?’

‘Ashad had one of those dreams last night, dear sister. Evidently the Vlagh didn’t learn too much in Zelana’s Domain, so it’s sending its servants South toward Veltan’s Domain – or it will before much longer. Ashad’s dream was a bit more complicated than Yaltar’s was when he saw the invasion of Zelana’s Domain though, and some things were cropping up that I didn’t quite understand. He told me about two separate – and evidently unrelated – invasions and a very complex war near the Falls of Vash. That’s another thing that kept cropping up as well. Ashad referred to Yaltar by his real name – in much the same way that Yaltar kept referring to Eleria as “Balacenia”. I almost choked the first time Ashad said “Vash” when he spoke of Yaltar.’

‘I told you that bringing in our alternates was a mistake, Dahlaine. If our Dreamers wake up and come to their senses, the whole world might collapse in on itself.’

‘They do seem to be stepping around some of the barriers I put in place, Aracia,’ I admitted, ‘but it’s too late to do anything about it now. The Vlagh’s evidently going to keep trying to overrun us, and we don’t have time to raise a new group of Dreamers. Has Lillabeth had any of those dreams yet?’

‘Not that she’s told me about,’ Aracia replied. ‘I’ve been a bit busy here lately, though.’

‘Does being worshiped and adored really take that much time, Aracia?’

‘No, but running back and forth to the Isle of Akalla to negotiate with Trenicia does. She’s not really interested in gold, so I’ve had to find something else to get her interest.’

‘Who’s Trenicia?’ I asked curiously.

‘She’s the queen of the warrior women of Akalla.’

‘Do women really make very good warriors?’

‘If they’re big enough, they do. Trenicia’s almost as big as Sorgan Hook-Beak, and she’s probably more skilled with a sword than he’ll ever be.’

‘Impressive,’ I conceded, ‘but if she doesn’t want gold, how are you paying her?’

‘With diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires,’ Aracia replied. ‘They’re warriors, but they’re still women, so they love adornment. For a good diamond necklace, a woman from Akalla will kill anybody – or anything – that gets in her way.’

‘If the women rule the Isle of Akalla, what are the men doing?’

‘They’re something on the order of house pets, Dahlaine. If I understood what Trenicia told me correctly, the men of the Isle of Akalla have raised indolence to an art form. On Akalla, everything is women’s work.’

‘Even war?’ That startled me.

‘Especially war. The men of Akalla are lazy and timid and generally useless – except as breeding stock.’

I chose not to pursue that particular comment. ‘It just occurs to me that maybe you and I might want to consider taking Queen Trenicia and the horse soldier Ekial with us to the war in Veltan’s Domain,’ I said. ‘They’ll probably be fighting the servants of the Vlagh before much longer, it wouldn’t hurt for them to see what they’ll be coming up against.’

‘You might be right, Dahlaine,’ Aracia agreed. ‘As I recall, the Maags and Trogites weren’t too happy when Zelana finally got around to telling them about some of the peculiarities of the enemy. Maybe you and I should try honesty rather than deception.’

‘What an unnatural thing to suggest, Aracia,’ I joked. ‘I’m shocked at you. Shocked!’

‘Oh, quit!’ she said.

And then we both laughed.

My thunderbolt took me across the lower edge of the Wasteland, and I peered down at the sand and rocks rather closely on the off-chance that I might see the servants of the Vlagh moving toward our young brother’s Domain, but as far as I could tell, the desert below was void of any kind of life.

The twin volcanos at the head of the ravine above Lattash were still belching fire as I rode my thunderbolt into Zelana’s Domain, and I was quite certain the eruption would continue for years. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that perhaps I should have put some limitations on the capabilities of the Dreamers. They were children, after all, and children sometimes get carried away and overly enthusiastic. The only problem I saw with that notion was how. Despite their immaturity, the Dreamers had virtually unlimited power over the forces of nature, and I ruefully conceded that they could quite probably step over any barrier I might have tried to put in their way. My original idea had seemed to be a perfect solution to a serious problem, but perhaps I should have given it just a bit more thought.

I cast out a searching thought and sensed Zelana’s presence about halfway down the north side of the bay, and I directed my thunderbolt to that spot.

Zelana was talking with Red-Beard and Longbow in what appeared to be a village in the final stages of construction some distance down the bay from Lattash. The rounded hills behind that new village had gentler slopes than the steep peaks somewhat to the east of Lattash, there was a patch of woods just to the north of the new village, and a meadow that stretched for miles beyond those woods.

‘Do you have to do that, Dahlaine?’ Zelana demanded peevishly when I suddenly joined them. ‘Isn’t there some way you can muffle that awful noise?’

‘I don’t think so, Zelana. Lightning is the fastest way to travel, but you have to put up with the noise. Ashad’s been dreaming, and it seems that our speculation came pretty close to the mark. Ashad’s dream confirmed the fact that the creatures of the Wasteland will attack Veltan’s Domain next.’

‘Did your boy’s dream give you any specifics about just where we’ll encounter the servants of the Vlagh?’ the archer Longbow asked.

‘Somewhere in the vicinity of the Falls of Vash,’ I replied. I looked curiously at Zelana. ‘I gather that you’ve changed your mind and decided to help the rest of us defend our Domains,’ I suggested.

‘The Land of Dhrall is all one piece, brother mine. If the Vlagh wins any part of it, we’ll all be in danger.’

I hesitated. ‘Are you feeling better now, dear sister?’ I asked. ‘We were all very worried when you suddenly decided to go home to your grotto.’

‘No, Dahlaine,’ she replied tartly, ‘I’m not feeling better, but Eleria bullied me into coming back out into the world of chaos.’

‘Bullied? She’s just a little girl, Zelana. How could she bully you?’

‘She told me that if I didn’t want to help Veltan, she’d take over and do it herself. Once she takes off that sweet mask she wears all the time, she can be very cruel. She didn’t leave me any choice at all. I think that pearl of hers might have something to do with that.’

‘It’s possible, I suppose,’ I agreed. ‘Those jewels seem to be deeply involved in the children’s dreams. Ashad has one too, and I think it had something to do with that dream of his.’

‘What sort of jewel is it?’ Zelana asked curiously.

‘A black agate. It’s really rather pretty, and Ashad seems quite attached to it.’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a black agate. Where did he find it?’

‘It was in the back of Mama Broken-Tooth’s cave.’

‘Who’s Mama Broken-Tooth?’

‘The she-bear who nursed him when he was a baby.’

‘Wasn’t it a little dangerous to hand your little boy over to a bear?’

I shook my head. ‘Not really,’ I replied. ‘She-bears give birth to their cubs while they’re hibernating, and when they wake up, the cubs are nursing or playing in the cave. They automatically bond with the cubs they nurse, so Ashad wasn’t in any danger. Mama Broken-Tooth had already given birth to her cub Long-Claw when I took Ashad to her cave, and Ashad and Long-Claw think of themselves as brothers.’ I looked around. ‘Where’s Eleria right now?’ I asked quietly.

‘She and Yaltar are out in that meadow just beyond the trees,’ Red-Beard told me. ‘Planter’s looking after them.’

‘Who’s Planter?’

‘She’s the one who teaches the women of the tribe how to grow food,’ Red-Beard explained, ‘and the one the women go to when they have problems. She can be a little blunt sometimes, but she knows what she’s doing.’

‘You’re keeping something from me, aren’t you, Dahlaine?’ Zelana asked pointedly.

‘I was just getting to that, dear sister. Ashad’s dream was fairly specific about the invasion of Veltan’s Domain by the creatures of the Wasteland, but he mentioned a second invasion that won’t come from the Wasteland. It’s going to come from the sea.’

‘That’s ridiculous, Dahlaine,’ Zelana scoffed. ‘Has the Vlagh allied itself with the queen of the fish now?’

‘I’m just passing on what Ashad told me, Zelana. Where’s Veltan? We’d better go tell him what’s afoot.’

‘He’s out in the bay on the Trogite ship of Commander Narasan,’ Red-Beard replied. ‘Longbow can take you out there in his canoe, if you’d like. I’d do it myself, but I’m just a little busy right now.’

‘Is there trouble of some kind?’

‘Sort of. The fire-mountains destroyed Lattash, so the tribe’s busy setting up a new village out here. It might not be as pretty, but it’s safer.’

I looked at the partially-completed lodges near the beach. ‘Those don’t look at all like the ones back in Lattash,’ I observed, ‘but they seem sort of familiar, for some reason.’

‘They should,’ Longbow told me. ‘They’re copies of the lodges up in the north of your Domain.’

‘It’s part of a fairly elaborate deception, big brother,’ Zelana said with a faint smile. ‘The men of Chief Red-Beard’s tribe believe that growing food is “women’s work”, and that it’s beneath them. The women needed help in preparing the ground for planting, and Longbow’s chief, Old-Bear, told these two that some tribes in your Domain live in a vast grassland where there aren’t any trees, and they build their lodges out of sod instead of tree branches. The men of Red-Beard’s tribe built the usual lodges out of tree limbs and then sat around loafing and telling each other war stories. But one windy night these two slipped around pulling down the new lodges. When the sun came up, they walked around with sombre faces telling the men of the tribe that tree limbs weren’t sturdy enough for lodges out here, and that they were going to need something more solid. They suggested sod, and the men of the tribe are out in that meadow cutting sod for all they’re worth. The women of the tribe are coming along behind them planting seeds. Red-Beard’s tribe will have nice sturdy lodges and plenty to eat when winter arrives, and nobody was offended.’

‘Clever,’ I said admiringly. Then I frowned. ‘Has something happened to old Chief White-Braid?’ I asked.

‘The destruction of Lattash was more than he could bear,’ Red-Beard explained sadly. ‘He knew that the tribe was going to have to find a new place to live, but he didn’t feel up to doing it himself because his sorrow – or maybe even grief – had disabled him to the point that he couldn’t make decisions any more. He realized that, so he laid the chore on my shoulders. I didn’t really want any part of it, but he didn’t give me any choice.’

‘You’ll probably do quite well, Chief Red-Beard,’ I told him. ‘I’ve noticed that men who don’t really want authority and responsibility make better leaders than men who yearn for the position. Let’s go talk with our baby brother, Zelana. There are things he needs to know, and I’m not sure how much time he has left.’

Longbow led my sister and me down to the beach where his canoe was resting on the sand. There’s a quality about Zelana’s archer that I find more than a little awesome. He’s a bleak-faced man whose war with the creatures of the Wasteland had begun when he’d been hardly more than a child, and killing the servants of the Vlagh had been his only purpose in life. He was a grim man with very few friends and an almost inhuman level of self-control.