Brand and Vaeol - Chapter 18

9. Soelae, 24,535 - 3rd Day on the Yaro Southward   Rain today made a long wretched boatride. We mostly spent the daytide huddling under gumcloth and watching raindrops splash awater. Happily it ended ere campfall. We crawled into dry tents and have built fires to help things dry.   Also, we earlier got a wondersight: a ~Qoelu~ herd - Thundertails - wading upstream. They were a twelvesome: four grownups and twice so many younglings - not that any are small. Even from the water, their necks could reach to the banks and pluck ferns. If one had stood within Son’s Lowertown, its head could easily reach the Ofu’s street-level. I had heard of this Thundertail herd but had never seen them. These Qoelu are most common northeastward, near Lake Aresene, whose shores and swamps they wander.   As we bewared them, Master Kaes bade the flatbark hasten to shore. He outlaid a grown Thundertail’s stride through water might easily swamp us, and even the younglings are fearful if they grow reckful and choose to meddle, for they are more than thrice a shieldhead’s size. True to his forewarning, right when we reached the far bank, two younglings swerved toward us. They paddled over the Yaro’s deepest stream and hop-waded through the lesser depths until they reached shoal. We unloaded the last Shota right while their long necks bowed over the flatbark. Straightway, the crew banged oars. I bade our shooters nock, and the spear-riders to shout and clash weapons. I readied a hunting-dart but then spelled a light-dwimmer upon its tip. Then I cast witchlights that twirled over the huge beasts’ heads to misdraw them.   Anon thunder drew our awareness. We saw a grown Thundertail hastening over the flood; not swimming but wading, for Father-Yaro’s water did not even reach its neck. A low moan throbbed our bodies moreso than our ears. Then its tail swung whiplike, and another thunder-peal cracked and rattled teeth. To our luck, the younglings heeded and headed back into the Yaro. The elder waited at midflood until they crossed back and glared at us haughtily, as we might at whiskerlings. Its tail twitched like a tree-sized mace. Then it swerved and followed its brood; head looped back and baring shield-like teeth.   On the bank we waited a good half-belltide while we soothed the Shota and watched the great beasts drive away. Slowly the Korasha chuckled. Some had drawn bows from fear at the Mother-Thundertail’s threat and now stretched knotted arms. We sighed and said quick prayers to Father-Hunter. The rainfall for that while was forgotten.     13. Neth, 4718 - 3rd Day upon the Yaro, 54th Day on Castrovel   Today I saw something I never thought I would see. There are beasts here on Castrovel larger than dragons. A whole herd, each big as a hill, came wading through the river. Lady Vaeol used a word - which sounds roughly like ‘Khoylu’ - and another - Thundertail, to describe them, which we learned fit well when one cracked its tail and wrought a blast that almost burst my ears even across the river. Two of the smaller - ha! - young gave us a thrill when they crossed the river, for they seemingly wished to play. The barge-chief, who had already steered us to the far side from this massive herd of wave-churning behemoths, lost no time putting us ashore, for even the young could swamp us, and Lady Vaeol had the warriors try to shoo them off with clanging weapons and dancing light. The calves’ curiosity, however, did not appease the mother’s suspicion, who cracked her tree-size tail in warning and was already coming afterward when the dragon-size calves headed back.   An odd thought struck: the Lashunta are not masters of their world, certainly not as Humans and other like races are on Golarion. They may hold a part, but things stride (or wade) here that they do not challenge. And while our world’s great races more or less resemble each other, these mighty beasts live far beyond our ken.   I find the thought humbling and fully realize the danger inherent. Yet I also remember the comment from the ancient lore, that here dwelt the fiercest warriors ever known. How Lashunta today compare with their ancestors of ten thousand years ago I don’t know, but have gleaned enough tales in Son to learn their history is full of ancient wars, and that Son was founded against the Mokheva their ancient foe, whom apparently the Lashunta later exterminated. Also there is the current war against a foe they name the Moyru, which, though far away, the Lahunta cities are united in confederation against. Though I have seen little actual combat, from their discipline and bearing they look a martially ordered race.   That discipline now, however, seems challenged. This boatfare has taken a holiday feel, as the warriors have it. I have seen open flirtation among them, which earlier had seemed absent, if not discouraged. I have even seen couples walking off from camp together and into the jungle. Lady Vaeol and the officers seemingly allow it.   I have not talked with Lady Vaeol since the supper in Son, for she has stayed coolly dismissive. The sergeants, for their part, have seemingly forgotten the thing. The only one who acknowledges anything happened is Remaue, which I know by the grin she sometimes flashes me. If there was some fault that night, then she remains an unrepentant little minx.     16. Neth - Sixth Day on the Yaro, 57th Day on Castrovel   After two days of storming rain and wind, we are again afloat under little more than normal drizzle. It was miserable hiding under the gum-hides the Lashunta use to offkeep the rain. At times, we even halted at the bank while the worst wind drove. I could tell Lady Vaeol was frustrated, even though the river-flow has picked up speed.   Last night, the storm ended right as another city’s towers hove into sight. Hanazhyana our hosts have called it. After days camping on the riverbank, many are glad for a chance to get a dry bed in a hostel-like hall they have set for us near the harbor (which is common custom) and a fresh meal that was not stew.   Curiously, Lady Vaeol and a few others stayed on the barge. No explanation, and given the ever-likelihood of rain, it means sleeping under the gum-treated tarps. Their apartness, however, offered a chance to speak with her alone, which I had not done since our riverfare began. With such in mind, I strode aboard.    I found her in the prow, where she had made a snug nest for her and Remaue. She had already doffed her armor, and her halter too. She sat upon a bale, where she was writing in a booklike, folded scroll, and naked but for the silken scrap wrapped about her hips; ignorant of her own magnificence within her mage-light’s glow. I greeted her, and she put away her writing tools and stood, reluctantly it seemed. I started by asking, in Elvish, whether I had offended her. She answered I had not, but instead she feared that they had offended me. I thought to our last night in Son and guessed we wrestled with the same thing.    Then I bewared just how young she is. I have never asked her age, but know she is a new outrider-knight and but lately come to command. In Golarion years, I reckon her barely into her twenties. For all her gifts, her youth lacks experience and the wisdom growing from. At such an age, however, one question burned foremost to mind, even in understanding that Lashunta do not marry as Humans do. So I asked her when Lashunta maidens enter wifehood, as they so name. “Most Damaya do so when they leave military service,” she answered, switching to the tongue-spell to let us speak natively, “but for myself, I am unsure.”   “Why unsure?” I asked impulsively. “My service does not end,” she said simply, and I knew why, for she is an outrider, though then that galled me with a strength I could not explain.    I only knew that, at that moment, I hated these strong-willed Lashunta women. So I forced the issue and asked whether she herself will stay ever-maiden. “It is unsure,” she repeated, though I could tell I had stricken a mark when she blushed. She faltered, but then strengthened herself. “Will you be my friend, Brand?” she asked sadly.   “Of course!” I answered, more eagerly than I had wished.   Vaeol eyed me closely. She stood near and put hands on my shoulders, at arm’s length. I had the still heady experience of looking up at a woman taller than me, and naked as well. I could get lost in these brown-gold eyes. Ever so slowly, her brow-feelers stretched forth until they touched my temples. What she was trying I was unsure. Something in this felt less intimate than I had witnessed. At the same time, it was what I had waited for.   Gods help me, but I learned forward and kissed her. Her lips were soft and sweet as plums, something I had dreamed about. I tasted paradise on them and wanted more. Almost I thought she yielded.    Then her feelers snapped away. She shoved me off. Unwilling to take her answer, I shoved forward, only to be halted by an invisible hand whereagainst my legs, arms, and weight could make no headway. I had forgotten that Vaeol is not only an outrider but mind-mage also. When again I looked into her eyes, the confused maiden was gone. Only the spear-wielding, lizard-wrangling Lady Knight remained. “Be my friend!” she repeated haughtily. “Now go!”   I obeyed. Yet the barracks proved a livelier stead than my foul mood could stand, especially when I heard the thump and moans of love-making coming from the bunks. So I grabbed a bottle of wine and sulked by the riverside, where fishing boats were drawn up, and a huge ruin-pile of stones, of what was likely an ancient fallen city, gave thoughts worthy of my desolation. Right then, I hated this alien world and that it held its history more strongly than my own, right up to its copper-sheathed, glass-gleaming towers. I would burn it all down for the chance to go home.   This morn, Vern found me and raved about the Damaya who was willing to see what he could do with one good leg. Not only had she given her favor, but another had as well. Apparently, word has gone around that Lashunta and Humans can’t breed children together. We have been deemed safe, which is justification to try us at bedsport. Neither was he alone, to the Korasha’s jealousy.   Later, Oshis found me and struck up talk, apparently having gained a tongue-spell for this purpose. While we talked, he mentioned that, back in the old days, a Damaya could have a Korasha slain on her word if he gave insult. Then he walked off and made his way among the Shota. He left me wondering whether he was offering advice on my exchange with Lady Vaeol, or warning on the men’s frolics.   Among the Lashunta leaders, the only one who seemingly rejoices in the current state is Remaue. Earlier, she winked at me and walked away swinging her hips. She enjoys our troubles, which makes me fear she is working to further them. Why I don’t know, else than she takes a perverse glee.     11. Soelae, 24,535 - 5th Day on the Yaro Southward; Hanazhyana   We are adock at Hanazhyana and have gotten berths from the City Watch. Most warriors and the Aslanta stay there, though some, ingathering me, have chosen to stay on the flatbark. It is an oldwife’s tale, but as Sonna I shun foot in Hanata lands. While I write this, I look over the Yaro’s bow at Old Hanat’s ruins. That stead is cursed, and dolefully for folk from our City.   Long ago, back in the Age of the Warrior-Queens, an alliance rose against Son and overthrew us. Hanat led them. Warriors stormed the city, took the Ofu, and slew the Queen. Then they slew all our City’s Korasha, so that our Damaya must put themselves under Hanat’s Korasha to continue our bloodline. After Son’s fall, Hanat founded its own empire, which for two thousand years overruled Son. When at last the cities revolted, Old Hanat was burned, and its folk forbidden ever to againcome. Thus Hanazhyana was founded, and bywardly the Yaro drowned Old Hanat, leaving only broken steeples rising from the water. Thus, even though we Sonna may step within Hanazhyana, we never go into Old Hanat…   While I write this, Brand has found me here. We had not talked since our last night in Son. He asked to speak, and I gave leave. He asked whether I am angry with him, to which I answered no. I then told I thought my friends had shamed him, and from my own shame I had not known how to ask his forgiveness. He did not understand what had happened that night. I outlaid that I have taken Remaue as my maidenlove, and also that we have begun lovesport with Erymi and Tae, and by outstretch their Korasha alongwith. I told him I had no thought they had asked him that night, nor that had they outlaid him anything.   Then he asked why he had been withheld from touching me. When I halted answer, he asked whether it was forwhy he is Aslanta. I answered it is not so, instead forwhy I am maiden. This befuddled him, whereat I blushed. I then told him that no man has ever been inside me. At this he also shamed.   Brand then asked when Damaya yield maidenhood and become wives. I answered it is unsure. Most Damaya do so after (or while, as I know well) ending their firdhood, even if they have not a true bridetide before the priest, and my firdhood does not end, since I am sworn to the Citadel. So he asked if I would forever stay maiden. I answered again it is unsure, but for now so I shall stay.   I asked him if he would be my friend, to which he answered yes. I then clasped his head and brought my head near. I touched my antennae to his brow and tried to read his mind. I could, though I also got the feeling he could read nothing of mine. I gathered many things: reckfulness, weariness, befuddleship at what I was doing, and also love. That last thing forecaught me.   Then he laid lips on mine, which I think is how Aslanta kiss. In hindsight, rooted on my last read, I should have foreseen it. As his lips touched mine, I felt bliss run through him. I shrive I did not draw off so swiftly as I could. Then I shoved him back. I again bade him be my friend and that he should honor my wish. I then bade him cleave the other thralls and watched while he left the flatbark.