View Single Post
Old 04-04-2004, 02:06 AM   #146
Child of the 7th Age
Spirit of the Lonely Star
 
Child of the 7th Age's Avatar
 
Join Date: Mar 2002
Posts: 5,135
Child of the 7th Age is a guest of Tom Bombadil.
Silmaril Yakira and Narika

For the duration of the storm, Narika watched and waited at Ayar's bedside as her mother tossed restlessly in the tangled sheets, drifting in and out of consciousness. Grimly reflecting that her mother's condition was no different, Narika found her spirits dropping as she listened to the howl of the swirling sands as they battered remoselessly against the heavy canvas of the tent. Over the next few hours, the blistering winds subsided. Trying to concentrate on some simple housecleaning chores, she shook out the ornate woven rugs that decorated the floor, now covered with a layer of fine sand that had managed to slip in through the cracks. She finally set down her broom and asked the servant girl Riá to watch over Ayar so that she could check on things and make sure everyone had safely weathered the storm.


Outside, the camp was returning to life as men and women ventured from their tents to straighten out the wreckage and round up the herds. Several of the young lads were already digging out the firepit and piling up the precious twigs and limbs in preparation for the evening meal that had been pushed back by the unexpected windstorm. With help from the others, Narika pried the lids off two large communal water barrels that stood near the firepit for anyone to use. She leaned over to retrieve a ladle of water pouring it into her bucket, making a face when she glimpsed the thin sediment of sand that had settled near the bottom of the barrel. Water was too precious to waste. They would have to make do until her mother was well enough to survive the move to the next encampment where there would be a fresh supply.

Even with the storm, the news of Ayar's illness had spread quickly through the camp. A number of the maenwaith eagerly surrounded Narika, pressing her to tell them how her mother was doing and when they could expect to see her again. Unable to give them any sure response, Narika wanly smiled, brushing aside the questions with only the slightest hint of an answer, and quickly retreated inside her tent. She set down the bucket and was about to resume her nursing duties when a quiet voice sounded at the door and the tent flap again drew back. Narika looked over to see Yalisha step inside carrying a pouch of herbs slung over her shoulder.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Thank you for coming." There was a stiff formality in the air between the two women that Narika did nothing to combat. "You have heard of my mother's illness?"

Yalisha nodded and, without further conversation, came over to kneel at Ayar's side, carefully examining the older woman and asking questions as she worked. Rolling Ayar onto her stomach, she paused for a moment as she glimpsed the tiny puncture wound at the base of the neck, which was still inflamed from the day before. Yalisha's eyes widened in surprise. Her voice trembling, she pointed towards the inflammation, "This small wound? How did it happen?"

"I have no idea.," Narika countered. " It has been like that since she first fell ill."

"Think.... This is important. When did she complain of receving such an injury?"

Narika was about to shake her head again, when she suddenly recalled an incident that had happened earlier. "I do remember one thing. Yesterday, towards dusk, when all had gathered to hear music and stories, Ayar came out to join the circle. One of the attendants saw her stop and blanche and rub the back of her neck. When he asked if he could do anything to help, she merely waved him off and said it was nothing....only the sting of an insect. None of us thought it important at the time."

Yalisha looked up with bright, glittering eyes and then down at Ayar, shaking her head in dismay. When she spoke again, it was in a voice tinged with regret. "I can not be certain. But I do not believe this to be a natural sickness. I have little knowledge of such things, but I have heard others speak of it There are herbs, deadly herbs, whose oils can be extracted and placed on the tip of a missile or dart. For some there are remedies; for others, not. I do not know what this poison is, or if there is any cure, but I fear that your mother has fallen victim to an evil hand."

Narika stared at Yalisha and listened uncomprehending. "You are telling me Ayar was poisoned? Here, in this camp! That is impossible. No one within the clan would do such a thing. And outsiders do not even know where we are, not even the great Wyrma herself. Are you telling me that someone inside the clan has done this terrible thing or that outsiders have come here without our even knowing?"

"I cannot say. Only that whatever struck down your mother looks and acts like certain poisons that exist within the city of Umbar. How such a thing has come here, I have no idea."

With eyes hard as flint, Narika cried out, "Umbar! I should have expected this. It is not one of us but the outsiders. Every time we touch that city, we come away with grief. I swear if anything happens to my mother, I will slay any outsider who dares approach the clan even in so-called friendship." Narika's thoughts strayed to her sister Ráma hoping that she had already headed home.

"Please," she pleaded. "Is there nothing you can do to help her? Some compound or tincture?"

Yalisha pulled open her pouch of herbs, examining the contents. " I know little of such poisons, but I will try. Perhaps Ráma or my brother will soon return with news that will tell us who lies behind this deed and how we may best combat it."

"Let us hope so," Nakira grimly nodded.

Last edited by Child of the 7th Age; 04-04-2004 at 08:47 AM.
Child of the 7th Age is offline