James West - Shadow and Steel

The newcomers paused, observing all, then found Ulmek and the others standing in the surf.

“Bring your companion to us,” the tallest of the newcomers called.

The rest of the Brothers standing watch erupted from the forest. Swords bared, they crept close, apprehension alive on every face.

The strangers showed no indication of fear. That, more than all else, bothered Leitos. They reacted as if the armed men closing in on them were no more threatening than gnats.

“Bring your man to us,” the apparent leader said again, “and we will restore his life.”

Hours seemed to pass before anyone moved. Then, all at once, Ulmek and the others returned to shore, bearing Ke’uld. Ba’Sel walked slowly toward the strangers, while the Brothers around the newcomers formed into a tight circle.

Leitos studied the strangers. The men were tall-the tallest standing head and shoulders above Ba’Sel. Besides delicate golden torques worn at their throats and matching armbands, they wore soft boots of pale leather, and unadorned ankle-length kilts white linen. Their arms and legs were extremely long, almost freakishly so, giving them a spindly appearance. Taken as a whole, he decided they could not be Yatoans-not if Zera had been of that people.

The closer Leitos came, the more he found to trouble him. Their skin had a faint golden cast, and without wrinkle or blemish. To the last, their narrow heads were shaved smooth. Those not keenly focused on the Brothers bringing Ke’uld ashore, gazed about with slitted eyes that tilted up at the edges, and were colored the hue and sheen of polished bronze. They are not men. Cannot be. And if not men, they must be-

“Alon’mahk’lar!” Leitos cried, drawing his sword. The word ripped from his throat at the same instant someone else shouted, “Changelings!”

In moments Halan, Ke’uld, and the Kelrens were the only ones not standing around the strangers. For all the swords and hard expressions, the golden folk seemed dismissive.

“I am Adu’lin-kalat a’Kuadaye,” the leader said placidly, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of disdain. His smirking lips mirrored that tone. “You may call me Adu’lin.”

“You have a strange look,” Sumahn said tactlessly. “Are you human?”

“We are as human as you.” Adu’lin seemed untroubled by the question. “We are known as Fauthians, an ancient and reclusive race dedicated to absolute peace and harmony. We mean you no harm. Be warned, however, there are those who creep over these islands who would seek to destroy you, as surely as they seek to destroy us. It is good that we found you, before they attacked your party.”

“You speak of the Yatoans,” Ba’Sel said, seemingly entranced.

Adu’lin’s amber gaze became speculative. “Since our arrival to these shores in the early years after Upheaval cast us adrift from our homelands, the Yatoans have sought to eliminate us. They are all of them barbaric, and bent only on destruction. We pray daily for them to embrace tranquility, but so far we have done so in vain.” As he spoke, his eyes roved over the men around him, then the bound Kelrens. As his scrutiny passed over Leitos and Adham, Leitos thought he saw more than passing interest.

“What do you want?” Ulmek demanded.

“Only to help,” Adu’lin said. “As soon as we learned strangers had run aground, we set out from our city. Although we are not sea folk, we have among us those who can repair your ships. In the meantime, we invite you to join us at Armala, our home. You will be safe there.”

“You claimed you could restore Ke’uld,” Ba’Sel said, stepping past Ulmek’s raised sword. “Unless you can cure death, there is nothing you can do.” Despite his words, he sounded hopeful.

“Often, the injured are not as near to death as they think,” Adu’lin said.

“This is foolish,” Ulmek snapped. “We cannot blindly trust them.”

“Be still,” Ba’Sel said.

Adu’lin smiled faintly. “Let us help. Afterward, I will answer whatever questions you have.” This time when his eyes flickered over Leitos and Adham, Leitos was sure he saw more than idle curiosity.

“You must hurry,” Ba’Sel said, striding toward Ke’uld.

When Adu’lin did not follow, Ba’Sel spun to find Ulmek and the others had not budged. “Lower your swords!” he ordered. The Brothers did so, but hesitantly.

“Very good,” Adu’lin said after the last sword whispered back into its scabbard. He motioned for his fellows to join him. The Brothers parted ranks, but hovered on either side of the Fauthians, hands never releasing their hilts.

Adu’lin’s group gathered around Ke’uld. Despite his worsening state, he began thrashing, eyes swelling with panic. “Demon-born! Flee, my brothers, flee!”

Adham leaned toward Leitos, and said, “Wait, but be ready.”

Adu’lin knelt over Ke’uld’s wounded leg, reached out with a long-fingered hand. At his gentle touch, Ke’uld suddenly went still, his expression softening. After drawing back the bandage, the Fauthian’s blade-thin nose wrinkled.

“He is, perhaps, closer to death than even I believed. Pray with me,” he said to his fellows.

Forming two ranks, the Fauthians pressed closer, blocking sight of the wounded man and their leader. For a time, nothing seemed to happen, then Leitos heard a low chanting. Unfamiliar words washed over him, filling him with palpable pressure, as if the air itself had grown dense. Startled gasps from the Brothers told him he was not alone in what he sensed.

The chanting went on and on, and a serene drowsiness fell over Leitos. He resisted at first, but in due course the chanting put him at ease, and he sat down. It felt good to relax, and he could not come up with a reasonable explanation why he should avoid resting. Not long after, he fought to keep his eyelids from drifting shut. The warmth of the morning, the sound of the sea mingling with the chanting, all worked together to release the burdens of his heart. He began nodding, eyes closing…….

When he opened them, he looked at the beach from an odd angle. It took a moment to understand that he had stretched out in the warm sand. He could not quite recall what had happened. There had been a shipwreck, talk of turning against Ba’Sel, and people … strange, golden-skinned folk-

Leitos pushed himself up and clutched for the hilt of his sword, sure it had been taken. He found it at his hip, where it should be. The gold folk- Fauthians , he remembered, as things became clearer-huddled a little way down the beach. Halan and Ba’Sel, both with looks of wonder on their faces, sat before Ke’uld, who spoke quietly but with excited gestures. Ke’uld looked as if he had never been sick a day in his life, let alone near death. Ulmek and most of the others were keeping an eye on the Kelren prisoners and the Fauthians.

The light had changed, and Leitos judged that it was past midday.

“Was your rest as good as mine?” Adham asked calmly, his eyes on the Adu’lin.

Leitos brushed sand off his cheek. “I’m not sure I’ve ever slept better,” he admitted. “What happened?”

“Those Fauthians are as good as their word. They healed Ke’uld-so well that he was dancing about earlier, just to prove he could.”

Leitos glanced over the various groups again. “Why is everyone divided?”

“I gather that Ulmek is unwilling to accept any gifts from these snaky folk, while Ba’Sel is eager to do just that. The sea-wolves, well, they do not have much choice where they sit.”

“Do you trust these Fauthians?”

“No,” Adham said without hesitation. “Something is wrong here.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way they healed Ke’uld, for one. Not with poultices and splints, but with words, a song. My father spoke rarely of the powers that escaped the Well of Creation, and my mother mentioned them even less, but most of what I remember is their fear of the Powers of Creation, those used by the Three in the making of this world. In the hands of men, they feared only evil could come of such power, for it was never meant for mortal hands.”