Yamen Kahan

by Alan Wasserman
December 22, 1998

Gethris rides like the wind over the broken ground of the Endless Waste. He pats the neck of Chuang Hua (Northern Star) as he spies the wagons of his tribe.

"We are almost there ..." he comforts.

He urges Chuang to leap over a small ridge and he comes down gracefully among a circle of Oigar outriders. As a precaution they had their lances and bows lowered ... but quickly raise them when they see it is the prince. The largest of them, a man as thick as he is wide, trots over and formally salutes him.

"Hai, Prince Gethris," he says, "Thank the West Wind for blowing you home."

"Hai Khoman," he returns, grinning at his friend. "But we rode faster than that ..." He pulls back Chuang causing the pony to rear back. "Father?"

"He is with the carts. What news of the Shalhoond?"

"It is still there, old Brick," he laughs. "It is still there." He pulls Chuang out of the circle and heads toward the wagons. Although his people are on a desperate flight ahead of Yamen Kahan and his Tuigan horde, his heart is strangely light. Yes ... the Shalhoond is still there with its promise of shelter for the Oigar. But for him, there is the promise of more than shelter ... with any luck, Aurora will be there too.

He finds his father riding next to the cart of the wise woman Nahan La. Although he does not smile when their eyes meet, he knows his father well and knows that look in his eye. As he approaches, he can hear the cracked singing of Old Lao coming from the bed of the cart even over the groan of the cart's wheels straining on the rough terrain. He offers his father a salute and then turns Chuang to ride next to him.

"Did you do as I asked?" says Obodai, Khan of the Oigar.

"I did. I waited at the edge of the forest of giant trees until the wolves saw me."

"Did anyone come to greet you?"

"No. I could see game within the trees though. We will eat well."

The Khan nods his head. "I have the Dragon's words of life. We may hunt there for two weeks, and take all we can catch or carry.

"Father, you know we had intended only to send our huntsmen though, and not come crawling to her door with our entire tribe. I know these people better now, and I am not sure we will all be welcome."

The Khan regards his son with eyes of steel. "She will take us. She must. I have more than her words on hunting."

Gethris holds his tongue. What point would it be to again tell his father of the strange customs of this people. Besides, he truly does not know what the Dragon will do. No one does. And that is the nut of the problem as he sees it ...

There is a rustling in the cart and one of the covering skins peels back and flaps in the wind, revealing a shaved head with a dirty grey cue, half undone and flecked with straw. "Are we there yet?" shouts the old man. "Are we among trees?"

"Not yet, Grandfather," says Obodai. "Soon."

"If they let us in ..." adds Gethris.

"Oh!" laughs Lao in a drunken guffaw. "Don't worry about THAT! The best cure for nasty Dragon is a gum drop ..."

+++++

The crisp air stings her cheeks, and her heart beats evenly while her feet race along the leaf covered floor of the forest. Her breath mists behind her as she runs. The soft leather of her mocassins muffle her steps, as she follows a deertrail through the woods. Shooter can't help but smile. She is home among the Ironwoods once again, the peace of the forest all around her, her pale blue eyes guiding her way through the brush. Her legs have yearned to run along the soft dirt, having settled instead for many weeks for the filthy cobbled streets of Mistyrock as she chased down her bounties. But she is back for a while, to enjoy the peace of the woods, and the comfort of family.

There is a flash of ghostly grey to her left. It is the only sign of the wolves that run with her. Their feet make no sound, their lungs do not draw air, and they give no scent, but they are there teeth and claw when needed. Misha and Urul are the names of these two. Kulu has names for every one and makes a point of telling Shooter at every opportunity. Of course, she has no way of telling them apart with such precision ... but it doesn't matter in the least to the druid.

She looks off to her right, where the even cadence of a galloping pony matches her strides. Areanna moves along a parallel path, seeming to enjoy their journey as much as herself, for her usual talkative manner is instead quiet and thoughtful, and oddly enough, so is her baby, Hana, who rides with her. Shooter is glad she is along, for Areanna understands the woods as much as she, a natural part of them, just as the babbling in a brook. But at the same time, she is able to fill the role of diplomat to the Oigar whom they were sent to meet and guide during this deer season. A part Shooter is happy to see filled by someone other than herself, and better yet, someone who is good at it, and enjoys it.

The ride through the woods is an effortless thing for Areanna. Although she holds the reigns of Annie, the pony does not need to have any more guidance than the pressure of the young mage's legs. It is so easy after all of this time together ... it might as well be Areanna's four legs instead of the pony's. Still, the reigns are more than just for show ... for it reminds her to keep her arms handy around Hana.

Fastened tight within the snuggly on her chest, Hana coos with delight happy to be out and about in a world that is all new to her. Moving at this speed, the infant doesn't even think about flying for now. Those leaves on the oak are far more interesting and there is a squirrel and look a robin and why are there geese honking someplace and ...

Areanna goes over her tasks as they ride, happy that she is getting to go and happier still that she isn't going so much at Julee's expense but at her request. Understable given her condition ... Anyway ... she is to make the Oigar hunter welcome --they may camp outside the Shalhoond and hunt from sunrise to sundown, and take out whatever they can carry. Game that is wounded but not caught will be taken by the wolves, so don't bother tracking after the light fails -- um -- Obodai is invited for a formal feast of the hunt at his convenience, he just needs to set the time -- and Kulu's rules of course -- no magic for the hunt, no magic weapons either, no fires, and no overnight camping.

That was about it, except several stern looks from Kulu, and a toy for Hana made by this same dour shaman of Wolf. Areanna caught him smiling when he held Hana while they were there, probably thinking no one was looking at him at that moment. The baby had taken a liking for the mysterious man, in fact, she had flown right over to Kulu when they first arrived, insisting that he hold her, and snuggling into him happily.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a snort from Annie, who slows her pace as they near the edge of the woods. Areanna looks up, and gives her pony a quick nudge with her knee, indicating her desire to converge with Shooter before they exit the woods. The pony slows to a walk and moves along the indicated path.

Shooter listens for the change in cadence of the pony, her accompanying wolves trotting beside her now, as they jog along the trail. Her keen eyes spot far off through the trees, the edge of her home, and the people they are supposed to be meeting. But something is wrong. There are not just a few riders and hunters. There are carts and hundreds of people. Her face creases into a frown, as she notices this, turning her angle to more quickly meet up with her travelling companion.

The wolves stop, sniffing at the air and growling quietly to each other. Their discussion done, one flashes off towards the direction of Kulu's home.

Hana is sleeping now, the long journey, and myriad of distractions has tired her immensely, and she snoozes comfortably at her mother's chest. Areanna spots Shooter coming towards her, the wolf trotting anxiously behind. She recognizes it, its name is Misha.

They close, Shooter hopping on a nearby log to bring herself even with the mage. She crouches down, her face a mask of concern.

Areanna's brow furrows as she looks towards the edge of the forest. Her voice is quiet, like the rustle of leaves in the wind. "There are a lot more than I expected..." she indicates, squinting her eyes to try to pick out the details of the encampment. "We should probably get closer for a better look..." Areanna suggests, slipping off Annie's back, and sniffing at the air. "Stay here, Annie... I'll call for you..." she whispers into the pony's ear.

Shooter peers throught the underbrush at the gathered tribe. She shakes her head slowly. [Something's up ... that's for sure]. She catches Areanna's eye, communicating her concern.

The walk quietly together, the wolf trailing them. The pair move through the trees, their steps go unheard, their manner cautious and unhurried. They stop, a few hundred yards in, their keen eyes able to pick out the details they need to discuss what to do next.

"Aw man... Kulu is not gonna like this..." Shooter whispers worriedly, confirming what she had first suspected. She quickly counts up several hundered with their carts and ponies. "Looks like the whole frickin' clan ..."

"Wow... well... there must be a good reason for it... might as well go find out... there is probably something wrong... I wonder if the carts will fit into the forest..." Areanna whispers thoughtfully.

Shooter looks at the mage, eyebrow raised.

Areanna turns and cups her hands to her mouth, whistling the cry of a familiar bird in the forest, with an odd note at the end. A few moments later, Annie comes trotting through the brush towards them. The mage kisses her on the nose when she arrives, and hops onto her back. "Ready?" she turns to Shooter and grins happily.

Shooter shakes her head and sighs, striding off in the direction of the Oigar camp. The whole situation confirms why Areanna is here ... because if it was up to Shooter ... she'd turn on her heal and head back into the woods and let the whole bunch of droogs sort it out themselves ...

"Two cloesti have come from the Shalhoond," says the scout. "One is a bow - woman on foot. The other rides one of the ponies you presented as gift."

Obodai nods and goes out to stand by the flap of his yurt. He chooses not to await guests such as these inside. They have little enough in common . it would not do to insult them. It bodes well and pleases him that at least one rides a pony.

Khoman stands to his right, his arms crossed but his demeanor relaxed. Having regained his abilities has restored his confidence, and while meetings with strangers are typically met with skepticism, it is not so with these guests. They are at least on speaking terms, if not allies. Khoman has good instinct for such things. They may not be able to help, but the Khan's safety is not at issue due to their visit.

Gethris stands to the Khan's left. He points at the knot of Oigar that are approaching. It is the custom among the horseman to show friendship to allies and in keeping with the custom many of the Oigar, especially the children, follow around the strangers in a great clump waving and shouting happily even though they do not know them.

As the group approaches, Obodai can quickly see the mounted cloesti -- Ah-Re Ahna, Lao's gum drop girl -- the sunny woman with the yellow hair, no longer heavy with child but with the babe in a bundle in front of her. She smiles and waves at the Oigar, showing his people to her baby.

It would not have been Obodai's choice to send a woman at all, much less a new mother and her baby on a mission such as this. Of course, Obodai has been shown to be wrong a time or ten about such things and it was crystal clear from his first encounter with the Cloesti that they have an entirely different perspective about their women. So, apparently Lao has a better feel for things than he with these Cloesti. Obodai smiles. Lao's instincts are uncanny. Another good omen.

The pony the gum drop girl is riding is being led by a much more taciturn sort -- a bow woman with a fierce, painted face, long legs and sharp eyes who does not seem in the least bit happy to be here. He remembers her from their visit to Xan-Dree Ah. Shou-te ... or something like that -- the selected guardian for the Dragon of the East.

He smiles at them both as the Oigar part to leave space for them to pass to the Khan's yurt. As is custom, Gethris speaks first on behalf of the host. "Welcome Cloesti, to the yurt of Obodai, Khan of all Oigar. Come in peace and share salt and bread."

Areanna smiles brightly at the Oigar, her curiousity piqued by the turn of events. She checks the shoulder straps once again on Hana's snuggly as she slips into the yurt closely followed by Shooter. It is lit by a central fire, and several lanterns hanging from the sides of the tent. Smells of spiced meat, rich musk, and heavy woolens fill their senses. Low tables rest on the floor, and many wool rugs and pillows cover the ground.

Their eyes adjust quickly to the lighting, and they are directed to a spot opposite the Khan and his chosen few.

They had been briefed by Serenity and Sofine on the customs of the Oigar, and so quietly wait for the Khan to initiate the conversation.

Hana's eyes are wide as she blinks at the flickering light of the fire. There are a lot of new smells and sights, and her attention is diverted quickly by a moth darting around one of the lanterns. She tries to go investigate, but finds she is held in place, firmly attached to her mother.

Areanna feels the familiar tug of her daughter, and looks down at her smiling. She whispers in her ear, and kisses her lightly on her head, drawing her attention to the toy Kulu made for her, which causes her to giggle happily, gripping it in her little chubby hands.

Gethris smiles indulgently, but his father finds it distracting to have the infant present. It reminds him of the many babies in his tribe that face the lance if the Dragon of the East does not live up to her words of life.

He introduces himself, Khoman, Gethris (whom they know) and Wu, a mystic who has replaced the disgraced Shaktai. Areanna smiles brightly at them. "Hi. I am Areanna .... for those I didn't meet before. This is my baby Hana and that over there is Shooter, who is the acting Chosen for Dragonlady while Flygirl is on an errand."

Shooter has chosen to stand by the flap of the yurt, her left leg raised and bent at the knee so that her left foot can rest on her right leg. She nods, very slightly.

"The time of Ice is almost upon the Endless Waste," begins Obodai in his rumbling baritone. "We have come to hunt in the Shalhoond, as was granted to us by the Dragon of the East."

Shooter looks at him cooly. [Sure. Not bloody well likely unless you're huntin' really big game.]

"Um hmm. That is what we .... hush Hana ..." she says, helping Hana put the toy in her mouth. "That is what we all assumed when word came of your arrival. But you couldn't possibly have this many hunters, and I doubt that children would be much good at it and carts are not manageable in the forest ... so we are wondering what is going on? Is this all of your people? I am guessing yes, because ..."

Obodai raises his hand. "Wait. I am a much slower listener than you are a speaker," he says, his expression cracking ever so slightly into a tiny smile.

"Let's have drinks to the hunt before serious talk," offers Gethris. "Maybe some kumis will slow Ar-Re Ahna's tongue and speed our hearing." He laughs and claps his hands for one of the guards. "Maybe a little small talk first while we wait ... how is Aurora doing?"

Areanna's eyes crinkle as she smiles. "Oh she is fine, really enjoying her new baby brother..."

Shooter looks up as one of the guards offers her a cup. She takes it from him, and sniffs at the liquid inside. Her nostrils flare as she realizes what it is, fermented goats milk. She decides against drinking it.

"Oh thankyou... I haven't had kumis in ages..." Areanna says brightly, taking the mug from the guard and sipping it slowly.

Hana tries to grab at it, and Areanna shows her what it is. Hana sniffs at the liquid, and pulls her head back blinking rapidly, very surprised and put off by the new smell. Her mother chuckles, grinning widely. "Maybe when you are older Hana..." she tells her, pulling a cookie out of her bag and handing it to her.

The time for small talk might have passed awkwardly considering that Obodai had little to say and Gethris was put off by his musings on Aurora, but Areanna quickly filled up the quiet time with pleasant chat about the ponies and gardens and new children and the wonderful job Wolf and Kulu have done with the forest. Eventually though, Areanna cannot resist the mystery that they are literally sitting among.

".... so there is plenty of game, even for winter. We have had duck, goose, deer, elk, even some wild goats. Of course hunting for them isn't easy, as Shooter can tell you, and it wouldn't be any easier if you try and track the game with your whole tribe..." she says, laughing, "so I was wondering exactly why are you ALL here? I mean it looks like all, isn't it?"

Obodai clears his throat, mildly surprised by the sudden turn in the conversation but relieved that the topic has finally come up. "This is all of the Oigar, Ar-Re Ahna. I called all of our chiefs together, all of our families, because it is no longer safe for us on the Endless Waste."

"Not safe?" Areanna prompts. "It isn't the winter, is it."

Wu seems to come out of his self-induced preoccupation with arranging his drink and cups and salt. "Cold and snow cannot crack the Oigar."

Obodai continues: "It is not the winter. It is the Great Kahan, Yamen of the Tuigan. He has learned that we will not join his ordu, and so he has ordered us hunted down and destroyed. To the last man, woman ... and baby."

Areanna reflexively clutches Hana tightly to her, causing the baby to coo happily. She purses her lips thoughtfully, her brow creasing for a moment as she thinks on his words. "That's not very nice of them..." she mutters her expression still pensive. She looks up, her countenance brightening as she comes to a decision. "Well I guess you are just going to all have to come into the forest and find protection amongst the trees... I mean Julee wouldn't have it any other way, she gave you her word for protection and friendship, so what better way for us to help than to have you come live in the Ironwood for a time. You'll have shelter, and our enemies dare not come within... and if they do... we'll take care of those baby killers..." she states determinedly, punctuating her words with a hug and a kiss for Hana. "Won't we Hana?" she asks smiling.

Shooter's frown deepens. [Well I'm glad someone is so certain about this... Kulu sure as hell is not gonna be so damn rosy with the decision...]

"Now all we have to do is figure out how to get the carts into the forest... and of course find appropriate clearings for you to set up camp... then go over the rules..." she looks up remembering something excitedly. "Oh!... the rules... well those will have to change... considering the new situation... I suppose we need to talk to Kulu and Julee..."

Obodai hides a sigh of relief. "I accept your offer of shelter for my people and please pass on our thanks to the Dragon for remembering her words of life."

Areanna laughs, as if nothing could be so natural. Gethris smiles and even Khoman relaxes. Her laughter is that infectious.

"As if ..." she says, "as if we would let you die on our doorstep? The forest is not heaven though, I must warn you. You will have to adapt but Shooter and I can help you and Torin too to get things straightened out so you have water and shelter and what you need. Right Shooter?

There is a three-count of silence as the eyes in the yurt turn to the scout. She slowly lowers her leg.

"Reckon so," she states.

"We do not have much time," Obodai continues. "Yamen's outriders are only a day or two behind. If they catch us, they will try and hold us here until one of his ordus can finish the job."

"Oh. Um.... how many horsemen are outriders? Or ... how many in an ordu?" Areanna is already thinking of how she might buy them more time with a bit of magic.

Obodai and Khoman look at each other then back at Areanna. "There will be a few hundred outriders."

"Uh huh. Maybe I can help with that. How many did you say in the ... um ... ordu?"

Obodai licks his lips. "I cannot say. I cannot count that many. As many horsemen as there are ants in an anthill."

"Ooh that gives me an idea..." she claps her hands and states excitedly.

Hana kicks her legs and laughs happily along with her mother.

"Get your people packed and ready to move... I guess the hunt will have to wait for now... until you get settled... then we'll hunt... more than just deer..." she hints grinning. "First I need to take a look at the outskirts of the camp, buy us a little time in case they have scouts riding ahead... and of course we have to send word to Alexandria so we can get everything all set up... how long will it take for your people to be ready to move?"

Khoman speaks. "We are always ready to move."

"It takes very little time to take down and pack our camp," adds Obodai.

Areanna grins. "Then I guess I'd better get started... cause my stuff takes a little longer..."

Shooter rubs her eyes, wondering what the unpredicatble Areanna has in mind. Her moment of inattentiveness is rewarded by the invasion through the flap of a smelly and drunken Oigar with a shaved scalp and a dirty queue of white hair.

"What is this, grandson!" he accuses, his voice thick with kumis. "Do my ears deceive me?! Or are you trying to steal away my ..." he trips on the rug and starts falling, "... little ... gumdrop ..." [thump] " ...girl. ow."

He is sprawled face first on the rug amid spilled kumis. "Is that you?" he asks into the rug.

Obodai grins indulgently at his grandfather. "Lao ..."

"NOT YOU!" he shouts with muffled voice. "Gum drop?" "Khoman, tell our people to break camp. Wu, summon the spirits and find out exactly where Yamen's outriders are closest. Gethris, take a dozen riders and set a picket in front of the Shalhoond until I give word we may pass. No one is to enter until then. Understand?"

The three of them break and race past the fallen Lao and out through the flap, leaving Areanna, Hana, and Shooter behind in the yurt.

"The world seems small when you lay on it," offers Lao. "And footsteps are loud. Have you cleaned me? It is not my month for a bath, but now I do smell and hear something ... magic..."

Hana, excited by all of the activity breaks loose from her moorings. She flutters like a crazed butterfly for a few moments before the astounded Kahn of the Oigar before squealing with laughter and llanding on back of Lao. She promptly grabs his (now clean and neat) queue, tugs it, and then pops it into her mouth greedily.

"Hana!" cries Areanna, get off Mr. Lao.

"Ah! I am attacked!" he slurs, and then he laughs. "What little matters weigh more than the world.... " he giggles. "BABY!" He paws around trying to touch the creature on his back, but he is too old and inflexible and his hands stop on the edge of his upper back.

"Silly girl..." Areanna laughs shaking her head, and grabs for the escaped baby, peeling her off Lao's back.

Shooter sighs in amusement, watching Obodai a bit cautiously for his reaction to the flying baby.

"Lao... this is Hana... my baby girl..." Areanna grins introducing her daughter to the old man, and handing her to him carefully. "Hana... this is Mr. Lao..." she whispers to her baby.

Hana giggles and bounces in her mother's hands until she feels the hands of Lao on her, then quickly settles, still gripping his queue and sucking on it happily. Her eyes study his face, fascinated by his weathered features. She reaches up with a chubby hand to tug at his ear.

"Did you do that?" asks Obodai in wonderment, uncertain of what he just witnessed. "How did the child get there? Surely it can't even walk."

"She. Fly," corrects Areanna. "She can't walk yet. I hope she won't skip the whole idea as unecessary," she adds, laughing.

"You can't be serious! Did you hear this, grandfather? Ah-Re-Ahnna's baby daughter can fly...."

If the old man hears, he does not respond to the question. He holds Hana naturally, as if he had done it a thousand times and with the care afforded by a mother.

Hana watches him thoughtfully as she tugs his ear and then contents herself to suck on his hair. His milky white eyes which cannot see are fixed on her face. He sighs contentedly.

"I am ready to go now," he says. "I have died and gone to heaven."

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Last updated 1/13/99