The Dance Eternal

ch. 30

30

“I'm sorry, Respected, but there has not been word or sight of Narraya. Worse, the Kham-tho have been active in the last day or so. There were reports this morning from the western post of explosions in the desert. They suspect mining, but have no definite information. That is all I have, My Liege.” The messenger bowed, fidgeting with the hem of her scarlet blouse, obviously nervous in the presence of the Respected Liege of the Dia'Novestri bearing such dire news. The man towered over the young woman, his height partially due to the moon-marble dais atop which his throne had been built. Whether seated on standing, the twin suns shone on his face through a series of beveled holes in the roof of the audience chamber; they had been specifically positioned so that the glory of the Eternal Twins may illumine the face of the Liege in His Holy Grace.

His eyes, with irises the color of molten gold, focused intently on the trembling girl. He let out a small huff of exasperation, and his gaze suddenly softened. His mouth split in a massive but warm grin, nestled in his ample beard; his teeth gleamed white in the light of the suns, and shadowed his face in ways that made the girl think of a mad-man. “FEAR NOT,” his voice boomed like thunder in her ears, and an abashed expression ghosted over his face; for a second, he seemed embarrassed. He hunched a little and began again, softer this time, “Feat not, dear. I will not hurt you. You have brought information, and it was this for which I asked. Thank you, and return to your post. Go with Grace.”

She shakily bowed at the waist, backed a few steps, then scurried from the chamber so fast she nearly left a trail of flames across the carpets in her wake.

The Respected Liege sighed heavily as a man in dark blue robes approached from the right. He walked tall and proud despite being ancient, his bald scalp catching light from different angles and holding it in little pools of glare.

The Liege sat with a huff, “Must everyone be frightened of my presence, Hie'd? I am not a god to be feared.” He gathered his thick beard in a hand, gently tugging at it pensively.

“Such has been the way, Respected,” Hie'd replied, his voice gritty with age, but still level and wise. Hie'd had been the adviser for the Liege for generations, and would continue to until he moved to the Void; it was told around the story-fires that Hie'd was originally an offworlder who had earned the respect of the Dia at the time, and that he was responsible for many of the advances made by the people since. He moved to his place, to the left of the Liege, and said, “It will come easier, Respected. You are recently raised, and it will take some time for the people to get to know what you are about, how you will lead them. Remember that they are still watching for the shadows of Dresh'no'thir. The scars of his rule remain fresh on the backs of the oppressed.”

The Respected nodded, hearing the wisdom in the other's words. Like his subjects, he was well aware of the tyranny that the previous Liege perpetrated against the Dia. “I will be patient, Hie'd. I am just worried about Narraya.”

“Your daughter is quite the handful, Respected,” Hie'd said with a chuckle, “she would make an excellent Su'qualatti with her gift.”

The Liege chuckled, half to himself. 'Gift', he thought, at once amused and terrified. He knew the truth of his daughter's 'gift', of the sentient being of energy that had formed a symbiotic relationship with her. Only known as Khordan, the being had saved Narraya's life just before her maturing by destroying the fatal disease that was withering her away; it would have killed her in days if left alone.

Now, his daughter was traipsing across the deserts, the Twins knew where, possibly being pursued by the Kham-tho. 'Su'qualatti, Narraya? HA!', he thought. He knew her, and the life of a wise woman was not for her. Not now, at least. Maybe when she reaches her middle years, she will decide to settle down... a bit. He noticed the elder giving him a considering look, and shifted a bit on the throne, his large index finger idly tracing an intricate loop on the side of the arm.

The whole throne had been carved from the bones of an ancient reptilian beast that the Dia called the “Harkaan'tro rheto ih T'whaldii”, or the “Eater of Worlds”. Where one Oar'vaor would equal about fifteen Dia adults in size, “Harkaan” would be equal to several thousand of the Oar'vaor.

It is held in legend that the Eater came to this world to devour the Dia'Novestri, summoned by the primal magicks of “Excitr'ild Ry'leah Ca'zeedth”, the leader of an ancient enemy of the Dia. The Dia, led by Sorion, the First Liege engaged the Eater in a tumultuous battle that lasted for thirty-three days, until they finally brought the beast down. Its carcass long since became a symbol of courage and faith for the Dia, the magicks that summoned it slowing the process of decay by centuries.

Pushing thoughts of history aside, he looked again to the elder. “Hie'd,” he said, “have you ever served a Liege with a daughter like Narraya?”

The ancient adviser chuckled, “Respected, I have never known a woman among the Dia who was like Narraya. I would say that any man who catches her eye will be both lucky, and in for one interesting life.” They laughed together like old friends; Hie'd was always able to get along with almost anyone, and the newest Respected Liege was of a similar disposition, so they got on quite well from the start.

As their mirth quieted, the Liege asked, now serious, “Are there any patrols in the area that could be diverted?”

“None with the equipment to take on a Kham-tho patrol; those groups are almost always armed to the teeth, and suicidal besides.”

The Liege grunted assent. He remembered the Kham-tho from an engagement long ago, before Narraya was born. Suicidal indeed, and thoroughly insane; the Kham were berserkers who ate the flesh of men, including their own. He hoped that his daughter was safe from that lot, but was pretty sure she could take care of herself. Still, he exaggerated his distress so nobody asked embarrassing questions.

“I do hope she is safe,” he fretted to his lap. He said it with just the right amount of distress in his tone.

“I am sure she will be, Respected,” Hie'd said soothingly. He struck up a discussion on trade arrangements to divert the Liege from worry, a conversation that stretched for an hour before they were interrupted by a flurry of activity at the outer doorway. The Liege stood, and Hie'd motioned for him to stay, saying that he would look into it. The elder descended the stairs from the audience platform and made his way across the hall, until stopped midway between the doors and the dais, motioning for the nearest guard.

Several other palace guards backpedaled through the doorway, tripping over each other. As they parted, Narraya came through the arched doorway, walking tall with her shoulders back and her chin up, but without a hint of disdain. Her hood was back, revealing a fall of thick hair that was almost black, but gave a reddish sheen as she passed through one of the pillars of sunlight. She was carrying a large pack slung over her shoulder that looked full. She saw the Liege standing and smiled, then focused her attention on Hie'd as she neared him.

She bowed her head respectfully, “Hie'd. The Twins shine on you today.”

“Hello, dear Narraya. You have made your Liege worry. And I as well. I trust you are well in your return.” He liked the girl, he just wished that she would decide where she is to be, what she wants to do with her life. Most Dia her age, men and women, had found their place in society, and at least started thinking of a family. He leaned closer to her, “Go to him, dear. He will be happy to see you safe.”

She nodded and patted his shoulder affectionately, “I know, and I am sorry. I think he will like to hear what I have to say, this time. You may, as well,” she added as she stepped around him, the look in her eyes unusually serious. In fact, the expression she wore was grave enough to cause Hie'd a start.

Narraya approached the dais, Hie'd in tow and moving back to his place. She bowed respectfully to the Liege, but he grabbed her up in a father's embrace, nearly crushing the wind from her chest. Though she towered over most Dia in her height, she was still a head-and-a-half shorter than he, and nearly disappeared not only his muscled arms, but the multitudinous folds of the royal vestments of his station.

“Liege... Father,” she croaked, and he let her down gently.

“I was concerned, daughter. You run off without telling anyone, and I worry. I am sorry, but it's what a father does.”

“I know, father,” she commiserated. “However, that aside. I have found something... several things, actually.”

The Respected sat on the throne and fixed her with his gaze, “Where did you go, Narraya?” He seemed to be ignoring her, and had affected his “Dad” tone.

She was about to launch into her report, but his question stopped her dead, and she sputtered, “I was... I went...” She took a breath, readying herself for the verbal backlash she fully expected. “I went to the Hills.”

The Liege glared, while Hie'd gasped, “You went... girl, that is forbid-”

“Hie'd, please,” she said, holding up her hand, “there is nothing there but old wreckage from the Ixus.”

“Narraya, do not speak to Hie'd so flippantly,” The Liege broke in, but was lost in the jumble of all three of them speaking at once.

“Exactly,” Hie'd retorted to her attempted dismissal, “and by that it is forbidden. You know little of their technology, and we do not know if there are more in this star system. You might unknowingly set off something that brings more down on us.” Hie'd tried to be patient with her, but his voice was gaining an edge that said he was agitated.

“Apologies, Hie'd,” Narraya said, noting the elder's darkening mood, “I do not mean to disrespect, but we need to do something. The Kham-tho are getting stronger, and better equipped. Most of the ones I have seen lately have had guns – one I followed recently had a beam weapon. They were trying to use explosives to follow Ta when she burrowed to get away from them.”

“That explains the explosions heard at the western post,” said Hie'd.

“Father, I think -”

“Then they were in pursuit of my daughter, this close to our home,” the Respected's heavy brow drew down, anger brimming in his eyes.

“Father, there is someth-”

“We should send a scout patrol, see if the Kham-tho are still around.”

“No, they -”

“Hie'd, you said something about elite soldiers. Maybe it is time to test them?” The men kept discussing while she tried vainly to get a word in edgewise. Finally, she raised her voice louder than she wanted to.

“I made contact,” she blurted, her words echoing throughout the chamber. Both men shut their mouths immediately, and she looked between the pair; the Liege clamped his mouth shut as a ghost of shock passed across his face (he was thankful the elder was focused on Narraya). Hie'd was looking at her with his head tilted slightly to the side, and she barely choked back a groan; to those who knew the man, it was a sure sign that he would not leave the subject alone until satisfied.

“Contact with whom, dear,” Hie'd asked.

“Hie'd,” the Liege announced, his voice loud and heavy with command, “I think I need to have a discussion alone with my daughter about her conduct in this court. If you will excuse us, please.” He stood, took his daughter by the arm, and led her down the steps on the back side of the dais. She went in a mope, her head hung in shame.

Watching them go, Hie'd rubbed a hand over his smooth head, the granite hue of his skin looking almost alabaster in the sunlight. “That might be a good idea, my Liege.” He turned his attention to the front entrance, where the guards were getting themselves sorted from Narraya's entrance, and her comment replayed in his mind, “I made contact".