Daughter of Llathe: A Tale of the Two Rings by Ben Cassidy
despair on the countenances of the Gars. “What’s going on here? Has there been an attack of some kind? Slavers?”
Leela looked over at the guard who had lowered the ladder. “See to the Wayfinder’s greelak,” she said. “Put it in the east stable.” She motioned back to one of the Azure Hawks behind her. “Go with her, Too’na. Report back to me when you are done.”
Nali glanced at the mercenary captain. “Kili is a docile beast. There’s no need to send two Gars to corral him. A slave will suffice.”
Leela nodded at the two Gars as if Nali had not even spoken. “Go quickly,” she said.
More faces stared down at them from the upper walkways, and peered out of windows cut high in the hollowed-out ugala trees.
Nali felt a shiver run down her back. The village was terrified of something. She could read the fear on their faces even through the darkness and the falling rain.
Leela looked back at Nali. “Come,” she said. “We have much to discuss.”
Nali’s dread grew with each passing moment as she walked across the wooden planks and swinging rope bridges of the treetop village. Gar’Mel Leela walked ahead, leading the way to the central hall.
Faces continued to stare out at her from windows and from behind corners, silent visages that spoke terror mingled with desperate hope at each glance.
Gar’Mel Leela reached the central hall, the largest tree in the village. She gestured towards the entrance, then stepped inside the wide door.
Nali followed. The bright, comforting glow of numerous sunglobes washed over her like an Ardelan sunrise. She closed her eyes a moment, feeling the light penetrate past her eyelids and soak into her body. She had been too long in the dark.
Leela turned and hung her dripping cloak on a peg against the inside tree wall. She looked over at Nali. “Are you all right, Wayfinder?”
Nali opened her eyes, blinking in the glare. It was a welcome feeling. “Sorry,” she managed. “I am just…adjusting.”
Leela held out a hand for Nali’s cloak, which she took and hung next to her own. The Gar’Mel reached over to a small alcove in the wall and touched a carved wooden idol of the goddess Moraana, a naked woman holding a star in one hand and a goblet in the other. She bowed her head for a moment, then gestured to a nearby passageway. “Follow me.”
Nali leaned her rifle against the wall, then pressed two of her fingers against a similar but smaller wooden figure of Moraana that hung from a leather strap around her neck. She followed Leela and touched the idol set in the wall with the same two fingers as she passed.
The room they entered was large. A round wooden table dominated its center. Against the wall were weapon racks, a map of the surrounding area, and the stretched hides of several lowland beasts.
Leela walked to a small cabinet and pulled out a blue crystal bottle of Kolan-make. “Unfortunately we have no eel oil to offer. Would you like chilltang?”
Nali took a seat at the table, continuing to bask in the blazing light of the many sunglobes set into the walls. “Yes. But I would like even more to know what in the worlds is going on here.”
Leela gave her a sharp look, then poured the dark red juice from the bottle into two stone cups. “I had hoped that more warriors would come,” she commented as she poured.
“So you’ve said,” said Nali. She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Has the karanos struck again? If you needed more assistance you should have—”
“Since you left Reteel I have sent four additional messengers,” Leela responded coolly. “We have already found the bodies of two of them.”
Nali stared at the Gar’Mel.
At the doorway to the room one of the Gar’Noomren appeared, bowing slightly. “The Wayfinder’s greelak is stabled, Gar’Mel.”
Leela nodded. “Excellent. Bright Star guide you, Too’na.”
The warrior put a clenched fist over her heart. “Bright Star guide you, Gar’Mel.” She disappeared.
Nali brushed a damp strand of hair out of her face. “The report we received at Reteel said you had lost two people to a karanos. Has it struck again?”
Leela pushed one of the cups over to Nali. “Wayfinder, we have lost forty-three people in the last six weeks.”
Nali’s hand froze on the cup. “Forty-three?”
Leela sat down and took a sip of the chilltang. “That we know of. I suspect the other two messengers are dead as well, even though we haven’t found their bodies yet. I stopped the long patrols more than a week ago.” She looked up at Nali, her eyes hollow. “We have lost slaves, freewomen, seven of my Gars…” she paused, her face drained and pale, “and eight children.”
Nali felt a cold like ice settle in her stomach. The chilltang lay forgotten on the table before her. “This is no karanos,” she said at last.
“On that we are agreed,” Leela said with a mirthless smile. “The first bodies we found had no wounds we could find. Even still, our first guess was that a karanos had somehow killed them and been scared off before it could feed. But as the number of victims increased, watch after watch, we began to realize that another creature was at work, something far more intelligent. Anyone who left the village was soon found dead. The bodies were uneaten, the blood still in them. When I called in the slaves and watchwomen from the plantations, it began to kill my patrolling Gars. When I stopped the long patrols, it began to strike close to the village, killing anyone who ventured outside away from others. Its appetite has been insatiable. It appears intent on killing us all one by one.”
Nali’s mind raced, still numbed from the horror of what she was hearing. “Mist-men?”
“We have seen no sign of them,” Leela said, “and they have never been seen in this area of the lowlands before. Nor is it the Chala’Kai.”
“Fleshtearers would eat the body,” Nali said, thinking aloud. “Deathstalkers too. But no karanos would—”
“No,” agreed the Gar’Mel. “And they never kill this many at once. This is something intelligent. And evil.”
“Surely there were tracks around the bodies, some indication as to what kind of beast this was?”
Leela shook her head. “We have many hunters in this village, and none have found any tracks of any creature we know. Each body we have found showed no sign of a struggle. Even the guns the Gars carried were still loaded and unfired.”
Nali felt a shiver snake down her back. “How long here until Daycome?”
Leela drained the rest of the chilltang. “One hundred forty-one watches. Forty-seven standard rotations.”
Nali had thought as much. More than a month and a half until the night lifted, then, by Ardelan reckoning. A single rotation of Llathe was actually slightly longer than the planet’s solar rotation, dividing a single planetary cycle into a Long Night of almost four months and a day that lasted just as long. It certainly took some getting used to, and the concept of Ardelan rotations where the sun rose and set every three watches was impossible to conceive of on the slow-turning world of Llathe.
“It might be nocturnal,” Nali reasoned. She was mentally listing each inhabitant of the lowlands known in Wayfinder lore. None fit. “When day comes it may stop.”
“It might,” Leela conceded. “However if it continues to kill at this rate none of us will survive the Long Night.”
“We need to leave then,” Nali said abruptly. “At once.”
“And where would we go?” Leela’s eyes, darkened from lack of sleep, looked mockingly at the Wayfinder. “The nearest village is more than a week’s travel away, and that is for healthy Gars. With slaves and children we would be going at a bristlespine’s pace across the lowlands during Long Night. If the bloomdeath didn’t kill us all the deathstalkers would.” The Gar’Mel gave a bitter smile. “We do not all have your woodcraft, Wayfinder.”
“A message, then,” Nali blurted. “If a floatship—”
“Do you think I have not tried?” Leela’s eyes blazed with fire, though her voice remained level. “I sent a messenger to
Reteel more than three weeks ago. If she had arrived, a floatship would already have come. Two other messengers were dispatched to Han’zal. Both of them we found dead not more than five miles from the village.” Leela sank back into her chair, a defeated look falling over her face. “One I even sent east, across the Basin.”
Nali said nothing. Even Wayfinders did not travel across the Basin during Long Night.
“You see now our dilemma,” Leela said quietly. “We are trapped here, a village under siege, and this…this thing is hunting us all.” She leaned back in her chair. “I had hoped for a legion of Tals. Instead I have you.”
Nali stared at the table. The icy hand in her stomach was expanding. She looked up at the weary Gar’Mel across from her. “Has anyone seen anything at all?”
Leela tapped the table thoughtfully. “There is one, a slave, but I do not believe his story.”
Nali nodded. “Take me to him.”
The house was suffocatingly hot. Outside the rain pounded mercilessly against the sides of the ugala tree. As Nali followed their host through the twisting passages of the residence, she noticed all the windows had been shut and locked.
“He is a worthless slave,” Meloon was saying. “A Garduan. We bought him during Great Market at Reteel. Moraana knows, I have whipped him more times than I can count. Ah, here we are.”
The Llathese man walked into the kitchen, brightly lit like the rest of the house, and gestured for his two guests to follow him.
Nali and
Leela looked over at the guard who had lowered the ladder. “See to the Wayfinder’s greelak,” she said. “Put it in the east stable.” She motioned back to one of the Azure Hawks behind her. “Go with her, Too’na. Report back to me when you are done.”
Nali glanced at the mercenary captain. “Kili is a docile beast. There’s no need to send two Gars to corral him. A slave will suffice.”
Leela nodded at the two Gars as if Nali had not even spoken. “Go quickly,” she said.
More faces stared down at them from the upper walkways, and peered out of windows cut high in the hollowed-out ugala trees.
Nali felt a shiver run down her back. The village was terrified of something. She could read the fear on their faces even through the darkness and the falling rain.
Leela looked back at Nali. “Come,” she said. “We have much to discuss.”
Nali’s dread grew with each passing moment as she walked across the wooden planks and swinging rope bridges of the treetop village. Gar’Mel Leela walked ahead, leading the way to the central hall.
Faces continued to stare out at her from windows and from behind corners, silent visages that spoke terror mingled with desperate hope at each glance.
Gar’Mel Leela reached the central hall, the largest tree in the village. She gestured towards the entrance, then stepped inside the wide door.
Nali followed. The bright, comforting glow of numerous sunglobes washed over her like an Ardelan sunrise. She closed her eyes a moment, feeling the light penetrate past her eyelids and soak into her body. She had been too long in the dark.
Leela turned and hung her dripping cloak on a peg against the inside tree wall. She looked over at Nali. “Are you all right, Wayfinder?”
Nali opened her eyes, blinking in the glare. It was a welcome feeling. “Sorry,” she managed. “I am just…adjusting.”
Leela held out a hand for Nali’s cloak, which she took and hung next to her own. The Gar’Mel reached over to a small alcove in the wall and touched a carved wooden idol of the goddess Moraana, a naked woman holding a star in one hand and a goblet in the other. She bowed her head for a moment, then gestured to a nearby passageway. “Follow me.”
Nali leaned her rifle against the wall, then pressed two of her fingers against a similar but smaller wooden figure of Moraana that hung from a leather strap around her neck. She followed Leela and touched the idol set in the wall with the same two fingers as she passed.
The room they entered was large. A round wooden table dominated its center. Against the wall were weapon racks, a map of the surrounding area, and the stretched hides of several lowland beasts.
Leela walked to a small cabinet and pulled out a blue crystal bottle of Kolan-make. “Unfortunately we have no eel oil to offer. Would you like chilltang?”
Nali took a seat at the table, continuing to bask in the blazing light of the many sunglobes set into the walls. “Yes. But I would like even more to know what in the worlds is going on here.”
Leela gave her a sharp look, then poured the dark red juice from the bottle into two stone cups. “I had hoped that more warriors would come,” she commented as she poured.
“So you’ve said,” said Nali. She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Has the karanos struck again? If you needed more assistance you should have—”
“Since you left Reteel I have sent four additional messengers,” Leela responded coolly. “We have already found the bodies of two of them.”
Nali stared at the Gar’Mel.
At the doorway to the room one of the Gar’Noomren appeared, bowing slightly. “The Wayfinder’s greelak is stabled, Gar’Mel.”
Leela nodded. “Excellent. Bright Star guide you, Too’na.”
The warrior put a clenched fist over her heart. “Bright Star guide you, Gar’Mel.” She disappeared.
Nali brushed a damp strand of hair out of her face. “The report we received at Reteel said you had lost two people to a karanos. Has it struck again?”
Leela pushed one of the cups over to Nali. “Wayfinder, we have lost forty-three people in the last six weeks.”
Nali’s hand froze on the cup. “Forty-three?”
Leela sat down and took a sip of the chilltang. “That we know of. I suspect the other two messengers are dead as well, even though we haven’t found their bodies yet. I stopped the long patrols more than a week ago.” She looked up at Nali, her eyes hollow. “We have lost slaves, freewomen, seven of my Gars…” she paused, her face drained and pale, “and eight children.”
Nali felt a cold like ice settle in her stomach. The chilltang lay forgotten on the table before her. “This is no karanos,” she said at last.
“On that we are agreed,” Leela said with a mirthless smile. “The first bodies we found had no wounds we could find. Even still, our first guess was that a karanos had somehow killed them and been scared off before it could feed. But as the number of victims increased, watch after watch, we began to realize that another creature was at work, something far more intelligent. Anyone who left the village was soon found dead. The bodies were uneaten, the blood still in them. When I called in the slaves and watchwomen from the plantations, it began to kill my patrolling Gars. When I stopped the long patrols, it began to strike close to the village, killing anyone who ventured outside away from others. Its appetite has been insatiable. It appears intent on killing us all one by one.”
Nali’s mind raced, still numbed from the horror of what she was hearing. “Mist-men?”
“We have seen no sign of them,” Leela said, “and they have never been seen in this area of the lowlands before. Nor is it the Chala’Kai.”
“Fleshtearers would eat the body,” Nali said, thinking aloud. “Deathstalkers too. But no karanos would—”
“No,” agreed the Gar’Mel. “And they never kill this many at once. This is something intelligent. And evil.”
“Surely there were tracks around the bodies, some indication as to what kind of beast this was?”
Leela shook her head. “We have many hunters in this village, and none have found any tracks of any creature we know. Each body we have found showed no sign of a struggle. Even the guns the Gars carried were still loaded and unfired.”
Nali felt a shiver snake down her back. “How long here until Daycome?”
Leela drained the rest of the chilltang. “One hundred forty-one watches. Forty-seven standard rotations.”
Nali had thought as much. More than a month and a half until the night lifted, then, by Ardelan reckoning. A single rotation of Llathe was actually slightly longer than the planet’s solar rotation, dividing a single planetary cycle into a Long Night of almost four months and a day that lasted just as long. It certainly took some getting used to, and the concept of Ardelan rotations where the sun rose and set every three watches was impossible to conceive of on the slow-turning world of Llathe.
“It might be nocturnal,” Nali reasoned. She was mentally listing each inhabitant of the lowlands known in Wayfinder lore. None fit. “When day comes it may stop.”
“It might,” Leela conceded. “However if it continues to kill at this rate none of us will survive the Long Night.”
“We need to leave then,” Nali said abruptly. “At once.”
“And where would we go?” Leela’s eyes, darkened from lack of sleep, looked mockingly at the Wayfinder. “The nearest village is more than a week’s travel away, and that is for healthy Gars. With slaves and children we would be going at a bristlespine’s pace across the lowlands during Long Night. If the bloomdeath didn’t kill us all the deathstalkers would.” The Gar’Mel gave a bitter smile. “We do not all have your woodcraft, Wayfinder.”
“A message, then,” Nali blurted. “If a floatship—”
“Do you think I have not tried?” Leela’s eyes blazed with fire, though her voice remained level. “I sent a messenger to
Nali said nothing. Even Wayfinders did not travel across the Basin during Long Night.
“You see now our dilemma,” Leela said quietly. “We are trapped here, a village under siege, and this…this thing is hunting us all.” She leaned back in her chair. “I had hoped for a legion of Tals. Instead I have you.”
Nali stared at the table. The icy hand in her stomach was expanding. She looked up at the weary Gar’Mel across from her. “Has anyone seen anything at all?”
Leela tapped the table thoughtfully. “There is one, a slave, but I do not believe his story.”
Nali nodded. “Take me to him.”
The house was suffocatingly hot. Outside the rain pounded mercilessly against the sides of the ugala tree. As Nali followed their host through the twisting passages of the residence, she noticed all the windows had been shut and locked.
“He is a worthless slave,” Meloon was saying. “A Garduan. We bought him during Great Market at Reteel. Moraana knows, I have whipped him more times than I can count. Ah, here we are.”
The Llathese man walked into the kitchen, brightly lit like the rest of the house, and gestured for his two guests to follow him.
Nali and