The Game Piece: Homeward I Read online

  “She told me of many things, many stories.”

  “But she has passed on?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  So was he, but he wanted no company out here and certainly not his brother’s betrothed. His expression must have shown this.

  “Please don’t send me back,” Alianna whispered. “If I have to nod and smile and agree with my mother one more time, I’ll go mad. Let me come with you for a little while. You can tell me the stories your grandmother told you.”

  He stared at her in silence. Could she have been as miserable at lunch as he’d been?

  “Where does your mother think you are?” he asked.

  “I told her I was going to join my father and Daffyed in the stable to look at your father’s new foal. No one will miss me for a while.”

  This seemed wrong, but he didn’t have the heart to send her away. The men would likely linger at the stables for a while.

  “We can’t be gone long, or one of your parents will miss you.”

  Her face lit up, and she hurried to follow as he turned down the narrow path.

  “What other stories did your grandmother tell you?” she asked.

  His thoughts rolled inward to his favorite place. “She told me of Sorhkafâré, who is said to have been the leader of an allied force in the Great War.”

  He couldn’t tell these stories as well as his grandmother, but he shared what he could to keep Alianna distracted from asking him anything too personal. He told her what he’d heard of the cutting taken from Chârmun and of those who’d left with the great leader. Some of ancestors of the majay-hì had left as well.

  She listened with rapt attention. “All of this, do you believe it is true.”

  Loni hesitated. He didn’t know if it was all true, but as to believing…

  “Yes.”

  They made their way through the trees and vines and heavy brush, and Loni found himself speaking of things he’d told to no one except Domin Aur’andàl. How he longed to travel to the eastern continent to find the possible descendants of the Departed, to leave this tame place behind. The more Alianna listened, the more he found himself unwittingly telling her things he hadn’t even told the domin.

  Such as how much he missed his grandmother.

  “I wish I had a grandmother like that in my life,” Arianna said. “Mine is just like my mother, always worried about doing and saying what is proper and fitting.”

  Loni almost couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. No one had ever spoken with him this way, and he pointed ahead along the forest’s densely encroached path.

  “Not much farther.”

  Sunlight peeked here and there through the canopy above. Thin beams of light caught on tawny vines as thick as his arm. They wove their way through the forest’s heights, some paralleling the path ahead. They were smooth, as if glistening from moisture, but patches of light exposed their grain like polished wood.

  Soon, the tawny vines overhead joined into broader, thicker ones, which grew in size the further Loni and Alianna walked. Smaller ones still appeared in places, but all were woven into the upper reaches of the trees. It was like following creeks to streams and then to rivers, always seeking the source from which they sprang. The vines didn’t glisten so much as they appeared to faintly glow, even in daylight.

  Loni knew—all Lhoin’na knew—from where they came. He stepped through a break in the brush and looked out across moss-covered earth to the immense glowing tree in the heart of First Glade.

  Massive roots split the turf in mounds where they emerged from the trunk to burrow deep into the earth. The tree’s great bulk twisted and turned like a dancing giant frozen in time. Though it was completely bare of bark, it hadn’t grayed like dead wood. The soft glow emanating from its glistening and pale tawny form lit up everything in the clearing with pale shimmers of light. Its huge branches above spread and mingled into the forest’s canopy. These were the origins of the “vines” they had seen, and Loni heard Alianna inhale sharply beside him.

  “You’ve never seen it?” he asked. “Ever?”

  “I’ve seldom left home in my whole life.”

  “Don’t go too close,” he said. “Grandmother said it is impolite to disturb the peace of Chârmun.”

  Alianna remained beside him, looking at the tree. “You’re nothing like your brother.”

  Well, that was certainly true, but a feeling of discomfort washed through him, as if he was doing something wrong.

  “I would have done almost anything to leave home,” she went on, “to leave the rivers behind, but now I don’t… Daffyed never talks to me, not truly. He’s never said anything about your grandmother or her stories of Sorhkafâré or cuttings from the tree or the majay-hì, but you…”

  He grew more uncomfortable and wouldn’t look at her.

  “I wonder,” she began, “what do you think Sorhkafâré did with the cutting?”

  Loni suddenly wanted to get away from this girl.

  “We’d better get back,” he said. “The men won’t stay in the stables all afternoon.”

  When he did glance at Alianna, she hung her head and looked away from him in silence. Somehow he seemed to have hurt her, but he turned around and led the way back to the path.

  · · · · ·

  Upon returning to the house with Alianna, Loni didn’t remain long. His mother didn’t find it strange when they came through the door, probably assuming they’d both been to the stables. She handed him a list of last moment needs for dinner and asked him to go to the market.

  “I’ll begin cooking the main dishes while you’re gone,” she said. “But fresh fruits and breads are still needed.”

  Although grateful for the opportunity to leave, he noticed Alianna’s tightly drawn expression.

  It worried him, and he didn’t know why.

  He had little understanding of emotions between men and women, but it seemed that Alianna was not well matched with Daffyed. Perhaps she’d only accepted this betrothal as a means to leave her home and to come live in a’Ghràihlôn’na. Among their people, this was a poor reason to enter into a lifetime bonding in the deepest of ways, and perhaps she was beginning to realize this.

  Loni fled the house at a quick pace.

  What happened between Daffyed and Alianna was none of his affair, and he didn’t want to think about it a moment longer.

  Arriving at the open market, he read his mother’s list. It was longer than he’d realized, as if she thought to feed an entire Shé’ith contingent. But he began gathering her requests, wondering if he shouldn’t have brought a carrying bag.

  Though he’d never admit it, he liked being in the market, gathering fruits, vegetables, and grain breads for his mother. It was like being with other people and being alone at the same time.

  A local vendor loaned him a sack—for which he gave thanks—and he’d been gone quite awhile before he finished with the last item on the list. He only had to get through dinner and the rest of the evening now. Then tomorrow morning, at first light, he could head back for the guild. Anything beyond that was more than he could contemplate.

  When he reached his parents’ house and noted the perfect rose blossoms above the door, he thought the place sounded far too quiet for so many visitors. Stepping inside, he grew more puzzled upon seeing no one.

  “Mother?”

  No plates were set on the long polished table, and he smelled none of his mother’s savory dishes floating out from the kitchen. Almost instantly, Daffyed, his father, and finally, his mother came striding from the kitchen’s archway into the main room. All three locked their eyes on him.

  Father’s hands were trembling, and his tan, narrow face was locked in a tight expression like a thunderstorm in the woods just before the leaves went flying.

  “What did you do?” Daffyed demanded. “Did you take my betrothed to see First Glade?”

  “I didn’t take her any… she followed me,” Loni countered, shakin
g his head. “Where is everyone?”

  “They have left!” his father shouted. “Alianna took Daffyed aside and broke off the betrothal. Her parents were so ashamed they would not stay for the evening meal, not for a moment longer.”

  “What did you do—say—to her?” Daffyed asked.

  “I did nothing!” Loni shot back. “I took her nowhere. She followed me, as I said.”

  “She said you told her stories from our grandmother,” Daffyed went on, looking almost pained or perhaps only embarrassed. “You filled her head with nonsense and made her look at me like… like I was less than your wild notions.”

  “I did nothing,” Loni insisted again, unsure how else to defend himself.

  Mother hadn’t said a word

  But his father shuddered with anger. “Of all that you have done—or not done—nothing compares to this shame. We were to join and share grandchildren with them. The pride, the honor for both families would have only grown. Now it is all broken, and your brother is spurned because of childish prattle from some would-be guild initiate.”

  Mother glanced away, her expression stricken.

  There was nothing Loni could think, do, or say. He had never been more than a source of disappointment to his father, but shaming the family was something else.

  He dropped the market bag, hearing some of its contents topple across the floor. Then he grabbed his satchel where it leaned against the wall.

  “I did nothing,” he said quietly to his mother, and then he looked to his father. “And you would do better to comfort Daffyed for his loss than to blame me.”

  Turning, he left the house. Though he did not run, it was a far quicker passage back to the guild than the earlier one to his family home.

  · · · · ·

  Once back inside his room, Loni didn’t even to go down to supper. Instead, he lay on his bed, facing the wall. He had done nothing wrong that he could see, but he didn’t think he could ever look at his parents or his brother again. He also knew well that he couldn’t stay here indefinitely, but he was at a loss for where else he might go.

  When a soft knock sounded on the door of his room, he didn’t answer.

  The door opened anyway. “I’m coming in.”

  Something in Domin Aur’andàl’s voice made Loni roll over. “What’s wrong?” he asked, not certain he wanted to know.

  Domin Aur’andàl gripped the back of Loni’s small desk chair and turned it around so it faced the bed. He sat.

  “I’ve just come from High Premin T’ovar’s office,” the domin began and then hesitated. “Your father came to see her a short while ago.”

  Loni’s heart began to beat with fear. Father had much sway with the guild.

  Disapproval, bordering on disgust, crossed the domin’s long features. “It seems he offered the high premin three fine horses, along with stabling and care, if she would elevate you to the status of journeyor—immediately—and send you on a mission, perhaps away to the annex at Chathburh.”

  Loni sat up as too many emotions hit him at once. At first, he almost couldn’t believe his father wanted him gone enough to try to bribe the high premin. It shocked him that any of his family would stoop to this. However, his second thought was to wonder if the premin had agreed, and if so, shouldn’t he, or even his mentor, the domin, have a say in his assignment?

  “Did she agree?” Loni breathed.

  The disappointment on Domin Aur’andàl’s face grew deeper. “Do you think you deserve to be elevated to journeyor? Without the required petition and examination process? Have you worked, studied, prepared a proposal to the counsel with all the effort of those who have achieved such status before you?”

  Loni dropped his gaze. He hadn’t prepared a proposal at all, much less studied enough to apply to any of the five orders.

  “No, of course not,” he answered. “But I want to go to the eastern continent.”

  “I know you do.” Aur’andàl sighed as he continued. “Though it pains… concerns me, the high premin would very much like to accept those horses. As a healer, she often travels on long journeys, sometimes bringing others for assistance. Three young mounts bred and trained by the Shé’ith is unprecedented for sages.”

  Hope began flooding through Loni again. “So she agreed?”

  “No,” Aur’andàl shook his head. “The standards of the guild are unquestionable, and even if she had, the rest of the premin council would not tolerate such a breach. But she has asked me if I could offer an alternative.”

  Loni sat rigid, as Domin Aur’andàl’s expression grew more intense.

  “You know well that you have no future here,” the domin said. “The nature of a sage, of a scholar, simply isn’t in your heart. Those who flourish here are striving towards something. They are not running away from something.”

  Loni’s hope began to sink again as he hung his head, though the domin’s hesitation passed quickly into rapid speech.

  “I suggested to the premin that you be counseled to give up your status as an initiate, and that we offer you modest funding and assistance to travel to the eastern continent as an… emissary for the guild. In exchange, you will send back detailed accounts of the people, languages, customs, and so forth that you encounter. Or perhaps even what you might learn of those others, the possible descendants of the Departed.”

  Loni looked up again, though he was too afraid to even hope—to ask—if Premin T’ovar had agreed to this.

  “Yes, she agreed,” the domin said. “What else am I to do with you? You would only try to go on your own, sooner or later. And likely be all the worse off for it without some assistance.”

  Loni just sat there on the bed, almost unable to take this in.

  “This way, you’ll have safe passage, though you will not be a sage,” the domin added. “You will remain connected to the guild, a source of invaluable information to us, to me. The premin was relieved by my suggestion. Are you?”

  There was no reason to think a moment longer. “Yes.”

  · · · · ·

  The next few days were a flurry, for even starting this journey required planning and coordination. The city of a’Ghràihlôn’na was in the heart of the central continent’s western side. For Loni to reach the eastern coast, he would first have to travel northeast and connect with one of the rare long-haul caravans to the far coast. The timing was not as bad as it might have been, though it wasn’t perfect. As it was early spring, the first continental caravan would already be on the move.

  “You must reach Tivaudon in southern Faunier by mid-spring,” Domin Aur’andàl instructed. “A caravan led by Chieftain Dembroise, a friend to the guild, will be heading north. If you catch him in time, give him this.” He held out a small package. “His people join one of the main caravans to the eastern coast each year in mid-spring. If you don’t reach them before they leave, you may have to wait another year.”

  “I’ll reach them,” Loni said, taking the package, knowing it was a letter from the guild and payment to the chieftain. The letter was another reason he was grateful for the assistance of the guild. They could gain him acceptance in places he couldn’t gain for himself.

  “There is also a voucher for a ship’s passage in there,” Aur’andàl said. “When you reach the coast, any captain taking on passengers will honor the voucher for passage across to the eastern continent.”

  Although the Lhoin’na seldom used coins in daily life, their guild branch dealt with the human world often enough that they only traded their services with such for currency. A supply of foreign coins was always maintained by the guild. The Calm Seatt and the Suman branches of the guilds also assisted when larger amounts of money were necessary for a project.

  Loni didn’t think long on such things. He was a small pebble being cast adrift with minimal resources. In return, the high premin would receive three fine young horses fit for the Shé’ith.

  Loni’s heart lightened like never before. He no longer had to pretend to study. He was to tra
vel to the eastern continent, with both sanction and assistance from the guild, and he did not have to be grateful to his father as the catalyst of this miracle. Indeed, his father would be humiliated should anyone ever mention it again.

  Still, Father was getting what he wanted. To Loni’s way of looking at things, everyone was getting what they wanted.

  On the morning he was supplied and ready to leave, Domin Aur’andàl saw him off.

  “Do you want to say good-bye to your family?”

  “No.”

  “There is nothing at your home that you might wish to bring? It is unlikely that…. You may not be coming back here.”

  Loni never wanted to come back. Having left his tan robe behind in his room, he now wore breeches and a tunic. He’d packed a spare set of clothing, a water flask, enough food to reach Tivaudon, and a second package from Domin Aur’andàl containing journals, ink and quills for writing.

  He’d only packed one truly personal item, a gift from his grandmother: a wooden box filled with a folded game board and twenty-four draughts for a children’s game called “Wicket.” Those round playing pieces were carved and polished walnut and yew wood with varied images of different animals carved into their upper surface. Each had gemstones for its eyes. Among the Lhoin’na, the gems were worth little, but his grandmother had told him that among humans, they had greater value. Perhaps she’d known he might one day need them, and he’d kept the box safe.

  “No, there’s nothing at home that I need,” he answered the domin. “The only thing I will miss here is you.”

  Aur’andàl’s eyes softened as he touched Loni’s shoulder. “I wish your path could have been different, that you could have found your peace here.”

  Loni knew his path lay to the east—with the wild descendants of the Departed, brave enough to leave this place behind an age ago.

  “Do not miss the caravan,” Aur’andàl added.

  “I won’t.”

  With a final look at the domin who’d been kind to him, Loni headed out the arched portal of a’Ghràihlôn’na. Once he’d left the Lhoin’na forest and reached the road northeast, he broke into a jog. He had to catch the caravan, even if he wore his boots through.