Brand and Vaeol - Chapter 9

15. Vealae –12th day on the Treepaths Homeward Bound; on the Yaro (25th of Scoutfare)   We have reached Father-Yaro, which is the best news yet, and tarry on the bank. I have set watches for flatbarks or boats that may come, and the warriors have set nets and hooks awater. Already they are hauling fish in.   We are some days south of home, but on the River Road we shall stay safer. I have sent two more riders northward to fetch us help.     15. Lamashan - 12th Day Captive, 25th Day on Castrovel; a River   After three hard days’ travel, including two where we went hungry, today we broke out of the giant trees, hacked through jungle growth, and found a great river, big as any I’ve ever seen. It must be at least a mile wide, and with a thick profusion of multihued bamboo and reeds that pack its banks. Even more importantly, just in from the bank runs a worn path. Something follows this river often enough to clear the brush and keep the grass short, and I’m guessing the Lashunta know.   Our captors’ smiles reaching the river showed clear after so many days of darkness and tree boughs. At once the warriors hacked a path to the riverbank and brought the nets forth. Even now they’re hauling fish in, and also a crocodile-like salamander, all meat for the roasting fires or the Shotalashu’s fodder. For the first time, overlooking the river, I got clear sight at the sky. A solid cloud whelve blocks everything, letting a hazy light with an odd golden tinge. If Castrovel truly lies nearer the Sun, I wonder how much bigger and brighter it would show. It certainly is warmer, which has not lessened even with the blessed stronger wind within the river’s clearing.   No word from Lady Knight on our next path, though I’ve watched all the Lashunta gaze upstream. I guess home lies there. Nevertheless, today’s word seems rest and gluttoning ourselves on as much fish as we can eat. We will see what tomorrow brings.     16. Lamashan - Upriver, 26th Day on Castrovel   Today we saw our first habitation. While we marched upriver, the land cleared and flattened into a checkerboard of tended fields. I witted they were waterlogged. Within one, a grid of new green shoots poked up up through the muddy water. Then in the next, we spied folk. They looked like Lashunta, like our captors, but were mostly naked, both the gnarled hairy men & the slimmer, taller women, and in all hues: skin of red, green, and brown showing through the mud, and hair of red, blue, greens mixed with everything else, even purple. They looked up while our company passed, but offered no word or challenge. Other than the mattocks and hoes they wielded and the mud plastering them, they wore only loinclothes barely covering their fronts and rears. Even the women left their breasts bare.   On witness of this toilsome livelihood, I wondered if they stood as free peasants or some kind of bound slavery. The planting style and field layout reminds me of the rice-paddies of Tian Xia, and I bethought the ricy rations we had eaten.   We crossed a wooden bridge overrunning a stream that came into the great river. On its right, off river, lay a swampy backwater, though with reeds cleared and several boats tied to docks or drawn abank. Rising from the water stood a lone, great tree, likely no greater than those we had traveled under and within in the deep woods, or maybe even smaller. Yet its loneness put its huge size in perspective, and its roadlike boughs hung low. Even more telling, however, were the houses and outsheds clustered under its boughs. Then within the limbs I spotted more buildings. This tree hosted a whole village, all within or under its leaves. It seemed everything I had ever heard or imagined of an Elven tree-settlement, aside from the naked workers and giant lizards within their folds.   Among this tree-born hamlet I saw more of the Shotalashu-lizards the women ride, some whomof roosted in the lower boughs like giant cats. Aalso I witted a stouter, squatter kind that stood within a meadowlike paddock. They grazed on grass and reeds and sometimes lifted their heads to watch us, while chewing cud in dull wise I could only name cowlike. I wonder the Lashunta may raise them for meat.   Then later, another company, warriors like our captors, both riders and footmen, came down the river path, first a pair of scouts, but many more following. At once we stopped. I counted maybe a score of riders on their lizard-steeds, and several armored like Lady Knight, and as many bowmen. They easily outnumbered us. I looked at Lady Knight and our captors, anxious for some sign whether we met good or ill.   Lady Knight rode forward; her Shota-steed prancing. She raised her spear straight skyward and shouted brightly in what I could only call a salute. In answer, our captors, both riders and bowmen, stood sharply, and all the riders lifted their spears.   Across the small clearing, from the other company, a lone knightly rider walked her steed-lizard forward. She doffed her helm, letting her feelers stand straight and showing coppery hair mixed with gray over a dark, lined face. I beheld age strengthened with authority, surely a true captain, if not higher rank. She raised a hand in greeting. Lady Knight cast her spear to Buxom Blue, rode forward, and halted beside the older Knight-Captain. She likewise doffed helm. Then they hugged. I did not need the loud cheer from both companies to know we were among friends.    At once I guessed this was the relief company, brought by Lady Knight’s messengers she had sent when we were first found. As confirmation, I spied ride forward a burly man on lizard-back. Though I had only seen him once, I had bewitted he is the only man who rides. Moreso, he now trotted forward, grinning madly, and dismounted right before our captors’ bronze-copper rider-sergeant (Eh-ree-me is her name). Boldly he reached her stirrup, ignored the Shota-drake’s giant head and maw, and scooped her from saddle like lifting a doll from its shelf. Then he whirled her around and twined his feelers with hers before grudgingly setting her feet aground. For the first time I heard the Lashunta laugh.   A festive mood settled as for the first time our captors relaxed. No break for us Humans, even if we had wished to escape, which frankly we did not. A new footman squad, just as burly and with heavier armor, marched forth and relieved our guards, who left toward tents already being pitched. This new detail watched us with fresh suspicion until Lady Knight and the older Captain finished speech. Then together they came back and overlooked us. The Captain greeted us in passable Elvish and informed me and Draxy that they would take us to their city, which she named Soan.   Right before Lady Knight left, doubtlessly to a dry tent, I called out. My knowledge of Elvish etiquette is even worse than my speech. Yet I summoned my best to thank her for saving my men’s lives. Lady Vah-yeh-ol I called her, the first time I used her true name.   Lady Vaeol paused. Then she nodded and gave a small smile. “Be well, Azlantian,” her voiceless speech rang in my head.   Our enlightened captivity continues with a pair of tents, again made from that fleshy hide, set for our use, and even our own campfire. Guards are never far, but they seem unworried about our flight, merely to keep eyes on us and ensure we get into no trouble. And there is food: more sour rice, pickled fruits, and a breadlike hoecake rich with butter and meat-chunks. For the first time in weeks we sleep with full bellies. What tomorrow may bring I know not, but tonight we will sleep safe.     17. Vealae –2nd day Northbound on the Yaro (27th of Scoutfare)   Today a sith met us on the River Road, led by Lady-Captain. Oshis too was with them, and food and fodder. We halted, and they made us camp.   Lady-Captain let me eat ere she heard my tale. Then I led her to the bondthralls and begreeted her to Brand and the other named Draksi who speaks some Elvish. I told her they are Aslanta, which made her wonder. She spoke roughly with Brand and heard his boon. Then she left the Aslanta under ward and we again went to talk.   She asked me of this elfgate they had spoken, whereof I told I had never seen nor heard. At best I could give her a rough steadship. She quoth another scoutfare will be forthsent, and the gatestead found. Then she hugged me and said I will find good welcome back at home.   For the first night in however long we sleep under tents.     17. Lamashan - The Lashunta City of Soan, 27th Day on Castrovel   Our trek with the relief-company continued upriver. We soon saw a first hint of civilization: a weathered lump that might once be a worn milestone. Afterward, we came across the wreck of a statue, an eroded body, and beside a mossy head, but with an eye bare peeking through.   Despite our captors’ discipline and martial bearing, these ruins and the workers’ squalor had first gotten me thinking they must be a savage race squatted atop elder bones of a more advanced, enlightened civilization, not unlike ours and Old Azlant back on Golarion. Why else keep the peasants almost naked, never mind the mist-heavy heat that renewed each time (two or three times a day) it rained? More ruined clumps followed, looking rather like a fallen stone fence, right when we saw an island’s tail out within the river. Then we saw another village-tree and another close by, while the path became a proper cobblestoned road. Then we passed a pair of Lashunta riding an elephant-size drake-beast. They sat behind a bony frill that spread over a head with a parrotlike beak and a horn that rightly belonged on a rhinoceros. Giant wicker saddlebags hung from its back. To the company they drove their beast aside and yielded the road, with waves and musical calls that I guessed held goodwill.   Right afterward, with the paddy-fields and meadows growing many, the road passed under an arch, old and broken like the other ruins we had seen. Yet if the upper-left third was not broken, it would have made a perfect circle of carven stone openwork. Even with the moss and vines covering it, a rune at its crest showed through: an inlaid golden sunburst that looked cannily like the same design Lady Knight and the other outriders bore on their breastplates, and even the footmen on their belts. Further ahead and standing among the ruined wall, a lone tower rose, topped with what looked a round belfry. It confirmed my guess when a bell pealed three times, its chordlike din ringing over the land. Further off toward the island, faintly another bell answered.   Out on the island’s far end gleamed towers: green domes shining even under cloudlight. They stood atop a cliff at the island’s head, beyond and beneath an even higher peak, upon which mighty ruins perched. I guessed we had reached Soan.   The road led us first to a walled town capped by several of the village-holding trees. We marched through another gate far older than the enfolding wall. Within we found a parklike street with shops both of shapen tree-trunks and dressed stone buildings, and scores of bug-feeler Lashunta in all hues: bronze, tans, greens, and even pinks. Many were naked but for loinclothes like the field-peasants, though these in the town sported silken tassles and embroidery. Also appeared an oddly mundane garment: the apron, which made good mind for tradesfolk. Wide eyes froze and stared at us, and apelike men scowled through their beards until we reached the riverside docks, which stood under the end of a fallen bridge whose arches stretched maybe a hundred yards into the river. There a ferry barge waited, which we boarded for the island’s head where the domed, gleaming towers watched. The cliff atop which they rose was hollow underneath, for the river’s flow had eaten stone away after centuries or millennia.    Whoever would build a city upon an undercut cliff, unless it had stood there for so long that maybe the river had not yet undercut when it was first built?   Our barge nosed into a harbor behind a stone jetty laid to buffer the cliff’s remaining base, and which also warded the island’s shore. Here I saw more old bones of civilization lying beneath: weathered, crumbled columns and stumps of walls whose stones had been carted away. Yet the wharf and docks were new, as were the dressed buildings behind them. Flowering trees lined the harbor and the greater streets offleading.    We followed a shady path downriver, which led through open-arched neighborhoods whose limestone gables hid under peaked slate and glazed tile rooves. In good news, many neighborhoods had tentlike street-awnings overhead to offward the everpresent rain, or even full rooves. Where the streets opened skyward, covered sidewalks still sheltered walkers, though our company with the outriders’ mounts had to stick to the unprotected center. At each cross-street we found trees of emerald-lavender leaves with white flowers.    I realized my first impression was wrong: these people are no savages. Their clothelessness did not show lack of development, but instead merely relief from this world’s oppressive heat. While we marched from the harbor, bell-like chimes rang over the streets. If I shut my eyes, I could believe us back in Absolom.   We reached a street that turned and sloped sharply upward, and began the climb toward the domes we had earlier seen. As more Lashunta came from bigger, taller houses to stare, I beheld more clothing-styles than mere aprons and loinclothes. I saw skirtlike wraps on both women and the men, who also had beards neatly trimmed. Then came a woman from the street’s other end: brilliant rosy-pink skin with golden-red hair. She wore a fan-like tiara of gold and gems on her brow, and a silken body-wrap over a shoulder, rather like a Vudran saree, which left one breast bare but for a golden cap on her nipple. Although she made way for our company, the lesser folk yielded her stead: a high-ranked lady who wielded authority.   Among the fairly porticoed halls and houses adorning the switchback streets stood more odd ruins: columns and half-fallen gates that again behinted the city’s age. Old bones lay among the buildings’ stones, but how ancient? I recalled Vaeol, our Lady Knight, asking if I was Azlanti. If these Lashunta had known the Azlanti when they crafted the worldgates and wandered the stars, then their memory goes back at least ten thousand years! Has this city stood for that whole time?   Our path peaked at another ancient gate, which though worn, displayed sculpted friezes of warriors and what I guessed queens or gods. Our captors brought us into an acropolis. A single giant tree filled a great square, whose branches shaded us and every building on its edge. On its far side steps led to a porticoed dome, whose copper sheeting made it shine green. I also saw many windows of fine, clear glass, of quality rarely found back home. Upon the dome’s steps waited a half-dozen crowned ladies, all dressed in bright, rainbowlike silks; left breasts hanging proudly free.    Before them we and our captors halted. Lady Vaeol and the older Captain came forward. They dismounted from their Shota-lizards and stood before the crowned ladies, who, while they talked, spared us stern glances. Then altogether they went into the dome’s hall, where doubtlessly they discussed our curious tale.   For our part, we were led back down to the city’s lower town. We have been put into a jail, though it is the airiest, fairest jail I’ve ever seen. We twelve share a long room open and barred on both ends - but for Vern, whom they have left on a cot within the courtyard. Our jailers gave us buckets of water and jars of a soaplike paste, which we needed no guess what to do with. Afterward, they doled us loinclothes like what the locals wear. Then they brought us cots, and one speaking Elvish bade us set them as we wish. Then came food, and better even than the camp fare we had yesterday; bread, cheese, fresh-steamed rice with fruits and a yamlike root, and then roasted meat that reminded me of shrimp or eel, though I could not tell what. As someone who has spent a little time in prisons, this is the nearest to perfection I’ve ever seen.   Even better, they served wine, thick, fruity, and which goes straight to the head. My men may never want their freedom.     1. Vinelae –Son   I am awake amorntide, in my own bed, with Remaue slumbering beside in soft idleness. Yesterday we reached Son, whose steeples had never looked fairer. The Aslanta were brought to the lockhouse, which still I reckon fits them better than death on the Darkfloor. We betrod the city streets to much acclaim and inthrift while our fetch’s news spread. Damaya and Korasha filled the streets, whomfrom we got, dare I say, a hero’s welcome.   I yet had one more duty to fulfill, which brought me to the Matron’s Hall. There awaited Lady-Mother and sundry Matrons, ingathering both my Lady-Sisters alongwith. Lady-Mother rose and hailed me, whereat I knelt. Yet she held my shoulders and knelt with me and kissed my brow. I laid my head on her breast.   I told her something of the Aslanta’s tale and their catch. Yet she had no ears for it, but that I was homecome, and bade all the alderwives out. Then she led me to her sunderroom, sat with me, and clasped my hands. She would have kept me there, but that I was already nodding off while I sat. She had a groom lead me to my room in the Citadel, where Remaue already waited.