Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn (28 page)

“Yes; hot,” Dayn managed. He ran a finger
along the interior of his own sticky collar.

Nort looked at him from the corner of his
eye. He snickered. “Didn’t think ye could get much paler, boy.
Guess I was wrong.”

Eyan, still hunched, gazed up at Dayn through
a shock of hair. “Ye look like you're about to puke,” he said.

“You don’t look so good yourself,” Dayn
replied.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t about to puke,
too.”

Nort snorted. “Well you boys turn your heads
in the other direction when ye do, eh?”

The men outside the circle stepped toward the
official entrance. Dayn prayed they would be turned away. He knew
entry was strictly enforced. Circles could not typically
accommodate the large numbers that attended Gatherings, so families
were allowed to send only one representative to the plenum itself.
Anyone could watch from outside the circle, but only those within
it had any say. They could be male, female, pre-adult or old, but
those invited had to be familiar with the agenda and respectful of
the protocol. An exception to the rule was made for the hosting
family, as well as those who were directly involved in a particular
aspect of the agenda, such as the formal introduction of a new
member, or disputes that required intervention. The way Dayn saw
it, he and his family were covered from just about every angle.

The seemingly disgruntled men were allowed to
enter, they had obviously been invited, but there was no time to
worry about them now. Dayn turned in his seat and surveyed the
bench at his back. Seela was seated there with young Ben squirming
in her lap. Dayn leaned toward Nort. “Where’s Vania, and Mother and
Alicine?” he asked. “I thought they were with Seela.”

Nort scanned the crowd. “They’re
here…somewhere.”

A sudden shuffling at the steps alerted them
to the tardy, but welcome, arrival of the remaining women. Vania,
Morna, and Alicine moved to their seats. Fluffing their skirts,
they settled in and folded their hands in their laps. Thin smiles
graced their lips.

Vania leaned forward and whispered something
into Nort’s ear.
Hopefully her apologies
, Dayn thought.

“Where have you been?” Dayn grumbled over his
shoulder. “We’ve felt like target practice up here.”

Vania patted his shoulder affectionately.
“Had to attend to a few last minute details, dear. That’s all.”

“Like what?” Dayn retorted. “Alicine adding
more ribbons to the barn?”

Eyan chuckled.

“Funny,” Alicine said. “I’ll have you
know—”

But before she could say another word, the
commanding presence of Peadar, Chieftain of the Aeries, made its
way onto the stage, and behind him were Haskel and Eileis.

Dayn closed his eyes and muttered a prayer of
gratitude. But as grateful as he was to see Haskel, he was even
more grateful for the presence of Eileis the Spirit Keeper.

Frail and elderly, the Spirit Keeper was
probably the last of her kind, at least in the land of Kirador. For
generations Spirit Keepers like Eileis had been healers of body and
counselors of soul, but even more importantly, they had been
teachers of the mind. Their arts had been passed down from mother
to daughter for nearly a thousand years, and with those arts had
come hundreds of texts filled with the wisdom of the ancients. But
in recent years those teachings had been silenced by Vestry laws
that dictated one philosophy and one religion. No longer could the
writings of one’s ancestors be taught; no longer could other belief
systems be explored.

It was because of their original attachment
to their own ancient ways that the clans had difficulty getting
along with the citizens of Kiradyn, most particularly the members
of the Vestry. Their people still traded, of course, for the
Kiradyns had come to enjoy the wild meat and pelts, minerals,
painted potteries, and medicinals the clans had to offer. But it
was an uneasy relationship. The only reason Eileis remained in
Kiradyn rather than join the mountain clans was because she felt
the Kiradyns needed her wisdom more, or so she said. Unfortunately,
she had become little more than a figurehead to the Kiradyns, a
quaint custom that was due some courtesy, yes, but allotted little
power other than that which was required for appearances.

Fortunately, the clans still held her in high
regard.

As Dayn watched, he realized she looked older
than when he had last seen her. That had been at the Summer Fires
festival several months prior, when she had made a strange entreaty
asking everyone to open their minds to the truth. Her body, bent
and frail even then, seemed even more so now, as if a simple puff
of wind could blow her away. But Dayn knew Eileis had a strength in
her that few possessed, and prayed it would carry her, and the rest
of them, through the debate that was sure to take place
tonight.

A rustle of clan members took their
last-minute places within the circle. Peadar waited in the center
of the stage, arms at his side, feet planted, while Haskel and
Eileis stood at his back. Haskel looked toward his family sitting
on the benches to his right. He gave them a nod and a smile, but
his expression was wary.

Peadar stepped to the edge of the stage, his
presence demanding attention. Dressed in the rich forest greens of
his clan, Peadar looked noble and proud. His cloak was tossed back
across his shoulders, revealing muscular arms encircled by bronze
bands. His black hair, streaked with gray, was pulled back and
tightly braided, making the planes of his face look angular and
pronounced. He narrowed his eyes as he slowly ran them over the
crowd.

He raised his arms, palms turned toward the
audience. All went still. Only the crackle of torch fires could be
heard. Even the distant campground chatter had gone silent.

“Aye, hear me brothers and sisters,” he said,
“clans of the air, of the soil and the rock, of meadow, forest, and
stream.” His voice emitted through the air, amplified by the power
of the great circle and the silence of the crowd. “Welcome all to
the realm of Aerie, born of the blood of Konyl who once lived in
the highest reaches. Hail the blood of Konyl, he who led the clans
against the demon hoards o’er ten generations ago.”

“Hail Konyl,” the crowd shouted in a
well-rehearsed chorus. “Hail the blood spilt in his name.”

“Thank ye, the house of Haskel, son of
Fiach,” Peadar said, “and to Vania, daughter of Yann, for their
hostin’ of the clans this day.”

Haskel and Vania tipped their heads in
acknowledgement.

“Hail Haskel, son of Fiach,” the audience
echoed, “and Vania, daughter of Yann.”

“This day we have much to discuss,” Peadar
said. “Two members of our clan: one unrecognizable…” He turned his
eyes to Dayn. “The other not yet recognized.” Eyan’s bouncing leg
grew still.

“Both prepared to reveal their true selves to
us,” Peadar continued. “Tonight we will hear for their
defense.”

Defense
? Dayn wondered. He and Eyan
weren’t on trial, were they?

Peadar swept a hand toward Haskel, then moved
to sit with the other Chieftains.

Haskel stepped forward. “My friends,” he
said. “My family and I welcome you all. We come before ye today to
ask recognition for our son, Eyan.” He motioned Eyan to join
him.

Eyan hesitated, then rose and shuffled toward
his father. He stopped at his side, but kept his eyes aimed at the
floor.

“Raise your face to ‘em, son,” his father
said quietly.

Eyan lifted his head, flicking back the hair
that had previously veiled his eyes.

The crowd gasped and muttered. Most had heard
the recent rumors in regard to the color of Eyan’s eyes, but few
had actually seen them.

“Present yourself to the Chieftains, boy,”
Haskel said.

Eyan turned and walked slowly down the line
of Chieftains. His gaze was no longer turned to the floor, yet he
could not seem to lift it above the men’s knees.

Ionhar of the Crests watched intently as Eyan
passed, but the leader showed no emotion, only contemplation. Next
to him, Uaine stared grimly. He said not a word as Eyan continued
along the line, but the hardening of his face indicated a repressed
desire to speak.

Brenainn’s bear-like frame rose from the far
end of the bench. He reached out and grabbed Eyan by the chin,
stopping him short. The Chieftain surveyed Eyan’s face, then let go
his hold. A broad grin parted his beard. “Why the boy’s a damned
demon,” he said, and bellowed out a laugh.

Dayn saw Haskel tense, but his uncle made no
move. Dayn, on the other hand, found himself vaulting from the
chair. “He’s not a demon!” he cried.

The crowd grew noisy. Brenainn arched a wiry
brow. “He ain’t eh?” he said. The audience grew still. “Well, I be
sayin’ he’s naw anythin’ but! An you one to be talkin’.” He
guffawed. “A lot o’ braw in ye, I be thinkin’.”

Dayn worked to decipher Brenainn’s garblings.
“Eyan’s not a demon,” he managed in rebuttal. “They don’t even
exist.”

There was a new rumble from the circle.
Mutters of
blasphemy
filled the air.

“Don’t exist, eh?” Brenainn rubbed his chin.
“Well, mebe they do and mebe they don’t. I for one am willin’ to
hear your piece, but I be thinkin’ ye’ll be upsettin’ more than a
few folks here iffin’ ye do.”

Uaine rose. “I agree,” he said firmly. “We’re
not here to test our fellow clansmen with innuendos and propaganda,
especially from two boys who may have ulterior motives.”

“With all due respect,” Haskel said, taking a
bold step forward. “There’re no ulterior motives here. Eyan is my
son, comin’ out to the clans, nothin’ more. And Dayn…well…he has
information that’ll not be easy to hear, that I grant ye. But he
will
be heard nonetheless.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to
dictate who will and will not be heard,” Uaine said. “That’s the
decision of the Chieftains, and the last time I looked, it was
Peadar that led the Aeries.”

Peadar stared darkly at Uaine. “That’s
correct, Uaine. I speak for the Aeries. And I say Haskel’s nephew
will have his say.”

Uaine stiffened. “Very well,” he said through
gritted teeth, and waved Dayn to the center of the stage. Haskel
took his seat next to Vania while the standing Chieftains resumed
their places. Nort rose politely, gesturing for Eileis to sit
beside him.

Dayn glanced around nervously. How had the
attention turned in his direction so quickly? Shouldn’t more time
be spent on Eyan’s acceptance into the clans? But then he realized
that his revelation about Tearia was the exact kind of information
the crowd needed if they were to accept Haskel’s son. He motioned
for Alicine and Eyan to join him. If he was going to take a leap
into the fire, he wasn’t taking it alone.

“My name is Dayn,” he said to the audience.
“I was given it by my Kiradyn parents, Gorman and Morna. It was
they who raised me, but I am not their blood son.” Heads shook and
voices whispered, but Dayn continued. “My name is also Keefe,” he
said more boldly. “I was given that name by my true parents, Brina
and Mahon of the realm of Tearia.

“My eyes are blue. My hair is blond and my
skin is pale. Yet I am as human as you are. You claim I have demon
blood in me. In a sense, that’s true. But the demons you speak of
are not from the underworld, they are from this world, our
world.”

One of the men who had been glaring at Dayn
earlier from the sidelines shook his fist in the air. “Stop ‘im,”
he demanded. “Stop ‘im before he says another word.”

“He speaks against the Word,” others shouted
in agreement.

Dayn turned to Peadar, expecting to see the
Chieftain rising to remove him, but the man remained seated.

“Continue, Dayn,” Peadar said. “Or would ye
prefer I call ye Keefe?”

“No; Dayn.”

“Very well…Dayn.” Peadar then addressed the
audience. “We will hear what the boy has to say. Anyone not wishin’
to hear it may leave the circle now.” No one moved a muscle.

Dayn pushed back his collar, revealing the
flower-shaped birthmark on his neck. “This stain—this is what
prompted my Tearian mother to give me away. There it meant my
death.” Dayn felt his courage building. “But in Kirador this scar
means nothing. It’s only the color of my eyes and my hair that
signals my differences. In Tearia, had I been allowed to thrive, I
would have been a royal, someone whose family had riches and
political authority. But here—”

“What is this
Tearia
you speak of?”
Uaine asked.

“It is a great land,” Dayn said, “on the
other side of the mountains. It wasn’t destroyed, at least not like
the texts say it was.”

Uaine rose from his seat. “All but Kirador
was destroyed during Daghadar’s Purge,” he said. “You’ll not
dispute that truth in this sacred circle.”

“Where shall we dispute it then?” Alicine
said, leaning around Dayn. “Because it is going to be
disputed.”

Uaine sputtered in an attempt to respond.

“More braw then ye know what to do with, eh
Uaine?” Brenainn chortled.

“We’ll discuss the subject of Tearia
now
, Uaine,” Peadar said. “As Chief of the hostin’ clan, I
have the final word at this plenum.”

Uaine’s brows met, then he tilted his head in
forced deference and sat back on the bench.

“Do ye have somethin’ to add, Alicine?”
Peadar asked.

“My brother and I went into the cave,” she
said.

“The forbidden cave?” voices asked in
amazement.

“Yes. And through it we wound our way to the
other side of the mountains. Tearia is there. We saw it. And there
are people there, fair-haired people like Dayn, and with eyes like
his and Eyan’s.”

“People or no, d’ye not deny they’ll bring
nothin’ but harm to us?” Brenainn asked.

“They won’t come here,” Alicine insisted.