Elizabeth Kerner - Redeeming the Lost

It did not help matters that Lanen was even more passionate in her nature than usual. Vilkas had told me that this was normal for a woman carrying a child, but it widened the gap between us even more, for I found myself inclining in the other direction. The body shapes the mind in many ways. At rest, my heart now beat at a tenth the pace of Lanen's, and I took far deeper and far fewer breaths. How could my mind not be affected by this incredible change?

I do not say that my love was lessened, for it was not and never has been—but the expression of it was changed perforce, and that threatened to tear my heart in two. Lanen was the same, I know she was. I heard her thoughts while she slept, saw her dreams, knew her fears. From dreams of winged and clawed monsters she would wake with racing heart, calling out to me in fear, and the only answer I could make was to speak to her mind to mind, say her name gendy, reassure her that all was well and that she had only been dreaming, bespeak her until her heartbeat slowed. She had had to wake the maidservants at Castle Gundar to bring her a warm cup of chelan. I knew not what we could do when we reached Beskin.

Beskin should have been three days' flight, but it took us full five days to find it. Maran, the only one of us who knew where it was, did die best she could, but as she reminded me, nothing looks the same from the air. She was quite right. Finally she laughed and said perhaps we should try walking for a few hours, in the hope of finding someone to ask our way from. After four days had passed, that is precisely what we did, though I decided to keep a little distance away lest I terrify any poor souls diat should happen upon us. The great forest of the Trollingwood stretched trackless away to our left, but I needed more precise directions than "just keep going until you're near the mountains, then turn back a little."

In the end, Maran wandered into a litde town and came back shamefaced. We were much too far south and west, it seemed. I gathered up my charges and rose up aloft, bearing north and east. I took pleasure in the smell of the trees rising to meet me, in having so vast a land to fly over. Our old island took less than three hours' flying, end to end. There was so much to see here!

Lanen and I began to consider, simply as an exercise, the possibility of some kind of harness that I might wear, whereby she might in future accompany me in more comfort. We whiled away quite a few idle hours on possible designs.

In the midaftemoon of the fifth day, Lanen bespoke me to say that Maran had recognised a great stone house not far from Beskin. We came to land at the edge of a large field. The cattle galloped away, which suited me well. Maran led us—swiftly by her standards, at a snail's pace by mine—along the road for a few miles, and up. Beskin lies in a cosy valley, protected by half a ring of hills at its back, looking out over rich farmland, and behind the bare hills around Beskin lies an arm of the Trollingwood, the vast northern forest that sprawls over most of the width of Kolmar. Maran assured the others that the Trollingwood was just far enough away for the villagers of Beskin to be safe from marauding wolves and bears. Most of the time.

I walked with the three of them to the door of Maran's house. The village seemed deserted, but Maran laughed and told me that everyone was hiding. "We'll have the chance to sort it out later, Akor, never fear," she said. She seemed curiously pleased to be invading the village at the feet of a terrible marauding dragon. That's what they'll think you are, at least," said Maran, her grey eyes alight. "I think I'll let you talk them out of it."

Her home was built on two levels with several rooms in each. I found Gedri buildings astounding and stared into each window in turn, but the little stone courtyard around the smithy was far too small for me. I could only stand there coiled about myself, with my wings tight furled and my tail firmly tucked out of the way. ft would be like trying to live in a tiny cage.

Lanen, realising for the first time that I must dwell entirely apart from her, turned stricken eyes up to me. "Akor, what— damn, I thought you'd be nearby at least—" Her eyes filled with tears, which she dashed impatiendy away. Her raging emotions, over which she had no control, made her furious.

"Do not be concerned, my heart," I replied. "We are but new-come here. There will be plenty of time for change." I grinned. "And possibly for building. Lady Maran, have you thought of a place nearby where I might rest, or shall I seek shelter in the Trollingwood?"

Maran met my gaze and replied, sadly, "For now, Akor, I fear it must be the Trollingwood. I have ploughed my brains for days, and I can think of nowhere large enough for you to stay. Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," I replied, doing my best to keep the sorrow from my voice. "I will see what may be done. You are certain that none claim land in the Trollingwood?"

"Certain sure," said Maran, grinning. "It's said to be far too dangerous in there."

"How clear-sighted of people, to know in advance that I was coming to dwell therein," I said lightly. I leaned down and came within Lanen's reach. "I am ever here, dearling," I said in true-speech as she laid her hand gently upon my faceplate. "No more than a thought away. And if it may be done, perhaps we will make the smithy courtyard more worthy of the Kantri." Aloud I added, "If you all will meet me at the edge of the wood tomorrow at dawn, I will guide you to whatever chambers I have been able to find."

By the next morning, I was pleased to show them my new dwelling. It was but a short distance from the eaves of the wood. I had found a cave nearly large enough to fit into, and there was a good clear stream not far away. With some effort on my part, it would be a comfortable enough place to dwell. I also asked Maran, who said that no other owned the land round about her house, and I was welcome to enlarge her courtyard to my heart's content if I would do the work of laying the stone floors and building walls.

I took it as a challenge.

It was the oddest feeling I have ever known, walking into Be-skin. I had never been there before, but—how shall I explain it? It began with the scent of the Trollingwood, whose western edge lay near my old home in Ilsa. I knew that smell and it was the same here, only wilder somehow. The air was fresh and sharp with the scents of pine and balsam, the ground was rich, the hills felt like old friends. I walked into Beskin and felt that I had come home, to a place I had never seen. It was very strange, but oddly reassuring.

Maran's house was huge. Her grandfather had built il with Ills sons, and there was room and to spare for all of us. The rooms were sparsely furnished, the furniture well made and lovely in its simplicity. One of Maran's brothers, Harald—Goddess, how odd, to have uncles and aunts!—Uncle Harald is a woodworker, and made all the furnishings in the house himself.

Maran gave me a room to myself on the upper floor, a large airy room looking to the hills, with plenty of space for the children when they came. She slept across the hall, near enough for a hail but far enough for privacy. Vilkas had the third bedroom on that floor to himself.

Maran and I settled in quickly enough, but Vilkas was like a butterfly that could not light upon a single bloom. After a few days, when he was certain that I was well enough and would keep, he went off on his own into the country round, a travelling Healer. During our first three months there, as spring gave way gradually to summer, he would disappear for weeks at a time, turning up suddenly of a morning with a scrip full of silver, looking a little more weather-beaten each time and a little more at peace with himself. He would give me relaxing herbs, examine me closely, make sure the babes were thriving, exhort me to eat more meat, and disappear again.