18
They tied up the Gaeradine warrior and, as he began to regain consciousness, Agarang crouched before him, talking in a quiet, calm voice. The warrior struggled against his bonds and spat towards Agarang. Everyone else stood apart from the two Gaeradine, the Abbot glaring towards them. Kaninzir, however, studied the Riven Blooms, sniffing them several times.
"We should kill him. Torture him for information and then kill him." Llwnthrn gripped her ochre robes, now dirty and soiled from several days of wear. "We should kill them both."
"When did you become so bloodthirsty, Llwnthrn." The old priest sniffed the Riven Blooms again and then picked a petal from one flower, tasting it and grimacing. "When everyone has finished killing each other, what happens then?"
"Then we take back our island. All of our island!" The Abbot turned her scowl towards Kaninzir. "The Patrons will aid us in our fight. With their grace, we will liberate the Esservold and send these monsters back to the sea. Floating home."
Mythrd could feel an anger surging within him as he listened to the Abbot's words. He had seen enough death, over the past few days, to last a lifetime and the Abbot called for more. According to the monolith, the Iibarish folk that lived upon the island were all once the invaders. He knew, from folk tales, that they were not the first to call Iibar home, yet Llwnthrn acted as though they had sole rights to the island.
It felt wrong to him, now. It felt too easy to think of the Gaeradine as only enemies, even though that feeling twisted in his gut against everything he had heard his entire life. The Gaeradine were starving. Within the bounds of the other Volds of Iibar, they had plenty. The Suvold, especially, held sprawling fields of grains and livestock. The breadbasket of Iibar. Gaavwessen, once known as Wesservold, now named after the Gaavjolt invaders that had integrated with the Iibarish almost a century ago, grew their own food enough to feed everyone. Even the Midvold, with its spine of mountains, had enough livestock and hunting so that no-one went hungry.
The Gaeradine suffered a famine. It seemed, to Mythrd, that offering to share their food, to help the Gaeradine, would stave off the war that they sought. He looked towards Gythryn, hoping she would say what he feared to, but she sat, cleaning the blood from her new sword, seeming happy of the deaths she had caused with it.
"Its not 'our' island, though, is it?" He blurted out the words, catching Kaninzir and the Abbot by surprise. "We ... our ancestors invaded and tried to take Iibar. Mine are from Tandar. I know, because father has heirlooms from there. The island has always had invaders and they've always come to peace. Becoming one people. The monoliths ..."
"The monoliths! The monoliths lie! Just like the Guardians." The Abbot moved towards Mythrd, straightening her back and looming above him. "Your mind has become poisoned. When we return to Yrstl, you can serve penance in the Monastery before joining the army. We'll knock these foolish lies from your head."
"No!" He couldn't look the Abbot eye-to-eye, but he glared up at her. "I'm not joining the army! I'm not going to become a killer! I'm ... I'm going to become a Steward. For the Guardians."
The Abbot raised her hand, palm flattened, ready to strike down towards Mythrd, but he set his jaw. If she wanted to hit him, she could. It wouldn't change his thoughts. It wouldn't change his decision. He had seen many things in the past few days, some wondrous, some brutal and sickening, but it had all helped to make this decision rise to the surface of his mind.
Even up to an hour before, he had stuttered and dithered about his feelings. Towards the Patrons. Towards the Guardians. Seeing those Gaeradine dying had hardened his heart. The Guardians did not preach for peace, only saying that peace was inevitable. The Patrons seemed disinterested in peace. The Abbot proved that with her words. Calling for even more death when peace could become reached, if only people would talk.
Talk, as Agarang did at this very moment. Even through the noise of his own voice, and that of the Abbot and Kaninzir, Mythrd had caught snippets of the man's conversation. He spoke of peace. The same peace that Mythrd wanted. Agarang called the bound man his brother. He had indicated everyone else, calling them brothers and sisters. Agarang believed it, too. Mythrd could tell.
The Abbot lowered her hand. For once, in the entire time Mythrd had known her, Llwnthrn looked uncertain. Mythrd continued to stare up at the Abbot, not with anger, but with a resolve he had never felt before. A certainty that he had chosen the right direction for his own life. The Abbot stepped back, glancing at the flowers Kaninzir twirled between his fingers.
"Those flowers? They hold off the Traal, somehow?" Snatching the flowers from Kaninzir's hands as he nodded, the Abbot sniffed them, recoiling. "I'm leaving. May the Patrons show you mercy, for the Gaeradine will not."
With the first fingers of dawn reaching up, above the trees to the south, the Abbot turned away, striding towards the horses that now stood, tied to wooden stakes in the ground. Taking the reins of one, she climbed into the saddle with practised ease and turned toward the north, and the village of Yrstl.
"Hey! That's mine! Plunder of battle!" Scrambling to her feet, Gythryn tried to run towards the Abbot, but she had already kicked the horse to a gallop. "Well, good riddance! And take your Patrons with you!"
Gythryn turned, flinging her arms out to the side in frustration. Mythrd could see a change in his best friend. She had always had confidence, a flippancy and a lack of respect for anyone in authority, but now she seemed even more so. Mythrd wasn't certain if that were a good thing, or not. Too much confidence and flippancy could get her killed. Too little respect for those in authority could cause problems for anyone trying to broach peace between enemies.
"A Steward does not only look after the stones, you know. They must care for the others, too. To weed out their excesses and cultivate their strengths." Once again, Kaninzir appeared to read Mythrd's thoughts, his hand resting upon Mythrd's shoulder. "A Priest may become lost in the radiance of immortal beings. A Protector may believe themselves invincible. A Steward must prune away the excessive traits of the others."
"Gythryn has never listened to me in her life." Despite the circumstances, Mythrd almost laughed. "You've met her. How do I prune away her excessive traits?"
"With great care." Chuckling, Kaninzir produced one of the Riven Blooms from somewhere, showing his talent at sleight of hand once more. "Tell me, your father has worked the green wood for many years, yes? And you have joined him many times? Learned from him?"
Mythrd nodded, wondering where Kaninzir's questions were leading. He had spent many a day foresting with his father. Cutting down trees, ensuring areas already logged had started to grow new ones. For many years, Mythrd had insisted he would follow in his father's footsteps, much to his father's horror. He had always insisted Mythrd's fate lay elsewhere.
"I learned some, but there's more to being a woodsman than you think." Mythrd thought back to the days his father had tried to teach him how to fell a tree in whichever direction he chose. He had never learned that to his father's satisfaction. "What do you have in mind?"
"There is a weed, Norweed, it grows, I believe, only on the northern face of certain trees, yes?" Using his arms, stretching them out wide and then raising them until his fingers touched, Kaninzir mimed a tree with wide reaching branches. Mythrd nodded. He knew the tree and the weed. "Then, have you ever crushed the weeds and stems? It causes a terrible stink. Worse than these flowers. A vile smell."
Eyes widening in understanding, Mythrd looked out towards the tree line, beyond the stones and the clearing about them. Without even thinking, he reached out for the Aura and the world became a beautiful mass of life, light and colour. He doubted he could ever become used to this gift of the Guardians. Using the Aura, he could see the vibrant, sparkling outline of the very trees that Kaninzir had mentioned.
If the smell of the Norweed could perform the same duty as the Riven Blooms, they would not need to rely on a flower that did not grow on Iibar. At least, it did not grow there yet. In the future, Mythrd intended planting and cultivating those plants to help villages and towns to ward away the Traal, but that could take years to grow enough of the flowers.
He knew people could find Norweed everywhere. Wherever those trees grew, Norweed grew and it grew fast and all year round. With that weed, no town, village or even travellers would worry about wandering Traal ever again.
As soon as dawn broke fully, he would set out to search for the weed. No longer would the Gaeradine be the only ones with protection against the beasts they had trained and herded towards the Indervold as a precursor to war. They had lost an advantage and the Iibarish had gained one.
-+-
Agarang surprised Mythrd by accompanying him as he headed out to search for the Norweed. Mythrd didn't know how to talk to the man. He had an air about him that exuded calm, unruffled by anything except for the occasional discomfort from his damaged ribs. In silence, they found several of the trees where the Norweed grew, collecting batches of them and placing them into the saddlebags they had brought along.
It surprised Mythrd how fast the Gaeradine had taken to the idea of the Guardians. For someone who came from a society where one, and only one, Patron held sway, Agarang had appeared to embrace the Guardians and the role of Priest that would come with it. Mythrd felt almost embarrassed that he had taken far longer to accept the immortals.
"I think we should release Fursang. My kinsman." Crouching as he picked the weed, Agarang sniffed at the plant before putting it into his saddlebag. "I have spoken to him. Told him of the Guardians and that your people know of the plans for war. I believe it would be beneficial to allow that knowledge to spread through my people."
"I'm not certain how the others would feel about that." Looking around, using the enhanced eyesight gifted by the Aura, Mythrd spied another of the trees further away. "Or my people, should they hear of it. It may unsettle any trust you may have gained."
"It is your decision. I only offer the option." Keeping pace with Mythrd, Agarang looked across to him. "My people, those here on Iibar, have become ... disillusioned with Tracis Kha. They pray daily for their aid to feed our people, but no aid comes and my people starve. I believe that integration is for the best of both our people, according to the teachings of the Guardians. We would become stronger together. Letting knowledge of the Guardians spread would ease that integration."
This seemed logical to Mythrd. The Gaeradine had a strength, a hunger, that the Iibarish people lacked. Since the last invasion, by the people of Gaavjolt, the island had become settled, stagnant and lacking in any drive. It had taken some time to stir the people into fighting the Gaeradine invasion. Even then, some people, in the Suvold and in Gaavwessen, had balked at fighting for Iibar, preferring to stay within their own Volds.
Only after much coercion had the peoples of the Suvold and Gaavwessen stirred and joined in the fighting to hold the Gaeradine within the confines of the Esservold. It fell to the peoples of the Indervold and the Midvold to keep the Gaeradine at bay, the military of both sides broken for many years after the fighting had ceased.
"Do you think your people would come around to the Guardians? To peace and integration?" Moving to the northern side of the next tree, Mythrd found an extensive patch of Norweed. "Forgive me, but I never thought of the Gaeradine as anything but brutal savages."
"And that we are!" For only the second time, Agarang let out a laugh. A proper laugh, this time. "But I think it's time we changed. We need to change. These warriors that came for me, last night, they were half-starved. Were they to fight the Iibarish army now, it would be a slaughter that the Gaeradine of this island would never recover from. Hence the plan with the Traal."
"It's a matter of survival, then?" Mythrd watched Agarang nod as he gathered more of the Norweed. "Is that why you accepted the Guardians with such ease? In less than a day, you turned from your Patron. It's taken me longer than that and I never really cared for the Patrons in the first place."
Agarang seemed to consider that for a long time, picking and pulling at the Norweed, stuffing it into the saddlebags until the weed trickled over the sides of the supple leather bags. Mythrd's saddlebags were also full and he waited for Agarang to stand before turning back towards the forest edge and the standing stones beyond.
"I have felt ... troubled by Tracis Kha for some time. The priests preach, sacrifices are made and yet the fishing fleets return without a catch. Tracis Kha's 'chosen' people starve, our traditional food gone." Looking up, Agarang's features came into focus as light dappled his face through the leaves above, his war paint faded and peeling. "The Guardians spoke to me, as they have you. In your dreams, yes? They promise nothing, but advise. I hear what they have to say and I see the wisdom in their words. Tracis Kha has never spoken to me. If I love the Guardians, they will love me for that love. The Patrons demand love. What worth is love demanded of someone?"
Mythrd could not answer. Were Abbot Llwnthrn asked such a thing, she would answer that the Patrons deserved that love. Even with the little he knew of the Guardians, he knew that they would never demand his love, or his trust, or his respect. What he gave them, they would accept in good faith. What they gave back would not come by way of gifts, like the Aura. They gave Mythrd the ability to see the Aura because he needed it, not because he had prayed for it.
It surprised Mythrd that he knew that. As though the Guardians had heard his thoughts and answered questions he had not asked. Had he not accepted the Guardians, he knew they would not take away that ability. It was his, now, to use as he wished, or not to use at all. The times, before, where the Aura had not appeared to him were due to his own doubts. It all seemed so clear, now.
Agarang talked of the Guardians with such conviction, a pure, calm conviction so unlike the conviction of Abbot Llwnthrn. Her faith now seemed to teeter upon a fine line, where she had to force her convictions upon others in a strained effort to keep her own faith from breaking. Agarang would face an attack against his faith as he would an attack upon a rock. It could not hurt him or his newfound faith. Mythrd could almost feel that conviction emanating from the man.
Mythrd thought back to Kaninzir's words about pruning away the excesses of Priests and Protectors, to save them from themselves, and wondered how far Agarang would allow others to push against him and his faith before he would bend.
"The Guardians do not want absolute conviction, you know?" Emerging from the tree line, Mythrd raised his hand to shade his eyes. "They prefer people to think for themselves. Blind faith only leads to bumping into obstacles you can walk around."
Agarang stopped, tilting his head and furrowing his brow as he looked to Mythrd, studying him. After a few seconds, he looked towards the ground as though considering Mythrd's words before looking up once again. He smiled, and Mythrd thought it looked strange through the fading war paint.
"You sounded like Kaninzir. The Steward, taking care of more than the stones, I see." Agarang started walking again, resting a hand on Mythrd's shoulder. "You are right, of course. I must temper my enthusiasm for the Guardians. They would not want that, that is true, but, I feel the more of my people know of the Guardians, the better things will become."
"I'm not certain it will help. Your people don't tend to look upon faiths other than Tracis Kha with any favour." In the near distance, Mythrd could see the outer ring of Cythrûn Henge's stones. "They tore down every henge they found, didn't they? If your people win this war they intend fighting, no henge will be safe and the Guardians will truly become lost to history."
"If they win." Pointing towards the stones, Agarang showed a bright smile beneath his war paint. "Besides, the stones have never had a Protector like your friend. She has a fire in her for battle that even my people would envy."
Agarang's finger pointed to the figure of Gythryn, striding their way. Mythrd could not help but smile as he saw her. She walked with such confidence and more than a little pride, something he would, no doubt, have to prune before that pride got her killed. Only days before, Gythryn had seemed like a girl, still, as Mythrd had felt like a boy. Both in the bloom of coming of age.
Now, Gythryn looked every inch a woman. A strong woman. If Mythrd allowed himself to admit it, he no longer felt like a boy, either. He felt older. More clear in the things he wanted. Clear upon which path he would take in life. Gythryn had become the Protector. He had become the Steward. Agarang had become the Priest. Where Agarang would preach about the Guardians did not seem as clear. There were no henges in Gaeradine territory from which he could preach.
"You need to get back there as soon as possible." Hooking a thumb back over her shoulder, Gythryn didn't even greet them. "That old coot is talking about letting that damned Gaeradine loose. No offence."
Gythryn held up an apologetic hand towards Agarang and he waved it away, shaking his head. Without Abbot Llwnthrn there to argue with the old Priest, Kaninzir had appeared to take matters into his own hands. It seemed odd that Kaninzir seemed set upon enacting Agarang's idea, even though Agarang had only minutes before told Mythrd of the possibility of releasing Fursang.
"Why would he do that without even talking to us about it?" Mythrd began to hurry up, hoping that he could reach the old man in time. It wasn't as though he disagreed with the idea, Mythrd only wanted to think about it first.
"I don't know. One moment he was crouched next to the man, the next he started to untie him." Keeping pace with ease beside Mythrd, Gythryn jogged beside him. Agarang did his best to keep up. "I stopped him, of course, but he seemed pretty insistent. I got him to promise on the Guardians not to do anything yet. He said something about 'sowing discord' and that it'll soon be over."
Mythrd almost let out an exasperated sigh. When Kaninzir said it would become Mythrd's duty to temper the excesses of the Priest and the Protector, he never expected he would need to do so with the old man.