[Ealasaide]

Hilde Bracegirdle's Post - Latah & Narayad

As they walked together through the encampment, Latah tried once more to learn of her husband’s errand. He had proven reticent to discuss Thorn’s directive with her, though she looked carefully for a chink in the barrier between them. But as he prepared to leave, Narayad had grown suddenly wistful and she hoped he might share at least how far he might be traveling. “Will you not tell me anything of your journey, so that I might ask the Father of the Wind for your protection,” she pleaded, as they threaded their way through the many tents.

“Do not bother yourself unnecessarily over me, for trouble seems to haunt this camp of late, and that I take as a good omen that I will return to you also,” he said with grim smile. “But I will enter this camp again only when I know that you will no longer suffer by calling me your husband.”

Latah’s gaze dropped, her eyes fixed on the metal disk with its black cord that now adorned her husband’s neck. Thorn’s, she recalled briefly. She found her heart filled suddenly with dread. Why would Thorn choose to give him such a thing? Although Latah had hoped that her husband might speak openly to her, now that he hinted at what he intended, she began to feel a greater distance from him. She felt she had failed him, and it was a familiar track she did not wish to follow. “Do no speak so,” she said.

“It was a mistake,” Narayad continued, as they walked together, “to be tempted by your father’s offer, to hope that through marriage I might find a place in your heart and acceptance in the clan. I see now, the vision that had given me great happiness has brought only hurt to you.” He stopped as the sentiments that had until now been left unspoken were now brought to the surface. Responding, Latah too became still for a moment as he spoke on. She did not want to hear what was coming; she did not want to admit the defeat she felt too near her. “Foolishly, I had not considered that I might jeopardize your standing in the eyes of the people. What has it availed us? I am accepted less now, than when I first arrived.”

“I knew what it was my father asked of me, Narayad, when he urged me to accept you. And you have given me no cause to regret his decision. I have only wanted the best for you, to help you. Nothing has changed.” Latah took his arm gently and began walking again, refusing to ponder her own heart. “Things are difficult now, that is all. But perhaps Thorn is right, it might be good to forget the rumors that surround you here, but only until this upheaval has passed. But where should you go? Do you have some place that you know of?”

The outrider hesitated. “Thorn had mentioned the wolf clan…” he began. Latah stopped short at Narayad’s whisper, Fador’s dwelling now looming before them.

“The wolf clan!” Latah repeated in disbelief. “Thorn suggested that? He knows you well enough to know you would never return there.” Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand. “Surely, you are not thinking of it! If your detractors were to hear of it…” she shook her head. “I do not believe you would do such a thing, no matter what happens or who suggests it.” Latah reached out to touch Thorn’s necklace with the tips of her fingers. “Would Thorn really give you such a token only to send you back to your people, as though you have won the favor among the Eagles?”

“I have won some friends here if not the favor of the clan.” Narayad said, gravely. “Can you not see? Who would not wish to be among the people that have known him since childhood? Those who might accept him yet if he were to return in humility? Who would not desire to return to where he had once known affection?” Latah lowered her head at this. “It is convincing, is it not?” he continued in a lighter tone, seeing that he had struck a chord in her. “Something that might be believed by those who have not taken the time learn anymore of wolves, but would cut them off without a thought! Thorn knows that the people might whisper among themselves that this is where I have gone.”

As she lifted her face again Narayad saw that Latah’s soft cheek glistened with a trailing tear. “I have tried to help you…” she said.

“Shhh,” Narayad silenced her gently. He looked now away from his wife and toward the west. “Do not finish. Know that I hold you to be my truest friend and it is I who am sorry. You are right, I cannot go back, and desire only to show my faithfulness to the eagles. I go prompted by my heart to seek proof that Wyrma has ordered the destruction of Ayar, for I think it would do much good to expose what creature she has chosen to become, not only for the sake of the eagle clan, but the wolf clan also. Then maybe this rift between the two might finally be overcome.”

“Then you might travel to Umbar?” She guessed. “Might I not also go with you?” she asked her eyes filled with a little hope. “I would also look for peace between the our clans, and may be of some aid to you.”

“No,” Narayad replied quickly. “It is best that you remain safely here with your father.” And reaching into his pocket he brought out the blue bracelet. “Perhaps you would accept this, a small gift, that you might see it and remember me.”

“You keep it husband,” she said closing his fingers around it. “Keep it to remember me by and in hope that soon reunited, you might place it on my hand. Do not be long away.”

Narayad shook his head sadly at her remark. “I will keep it then if it is your will,” he said sliding it back into his pocket. And with that he departed from her.


*********************************

Ealasaide's Post - Airefalas

As the third day of imprisonment in the Eagle encampment dragged on, Airefalas again found the hours weighing heavily on him. The outing to the fallen Eagle leader's bier the evening before in the company of Surinen, Narayad, and Latah had been a welcome break in the monotony. In fact, for a funeral, it had been almost fun. Now, back in the stuffy tent, he found himself searching for ways to occupy his time. His sword and dagger had been honed to a razor's edge, almost sharper than he preferred to keep them, and the blades oiled. Out of boredom, he had also combed out his curly brown hair that he had been wearing in a tail at the back of his neck and plaited it into the long queue down his back that was traditional among sailors. It was on the second attempt that he finally decided the braid was smooth enough and straight. Binding the end of it securely with a piece of cord, he cast his gaze around the tent in search of something else to do. With Mithadan either lost in his own thoughts or dozing - he had been so quiet for so long it was hard to tell which - Airefalas turned his attention to his pack, which had already been packed and re-packed several times over.

"I suppose I could do some mending," he sighed. Reaching into the bottom of his neatly organized belongings, Airefalas extracted the shirt that Ráma had shredded when she had changed into the cat back in Umbar. Laying it out on the low table in the center of the tent, he smoothed the fabric with his hands and surveyed the damage. There were several long tears in the cloth, as well as a few scattered drops of dried blood where Ráma-kitty's claws had raked his chest. "Hmm... not a total loss," he added aloud.

He was just pulling the edges of the longest tear together when Latah's voice was heard conversing with the guards outside. He turned as she entered and the two of them exchanged a friendly greeting. Following her usual routine, the young maenwaith woman then began a general tidying up, even though the tent was in near perfect order already. Airefalas returned to his shirt. Having folded the edges of the first tear into an even and narrow seam, he flattened it with his thumbnail, then repeated the process on the second tear. It was only when he was ready to begin sewing that he groaned and shook his head, realizing suddenly that he had no needle or thread. It was all back on the ship. Suddenly, he felt a soft touch on his arm and something pressed gently into his hand.

Turning, he found Latah standing at his elbow. She smiled. "You can use and give back."

Looking down, he saw that the item she had given him was a small roll of leather, tied with a thong. As he opened it, a slow grin spread across his face. She was lending him her sewing kit.

"Thank you," he said warmly, scarcely concealing his surprise at the way she had known so quickly what he needed and been able to supply it.

"You can use and give back," she repeated pleasantly, smiling as he chose a needle and threaded it with an arm's length of thread. She stayed to watch as he began to close the seam he had prepared with a series of tiny, precise stitches. "You do this very well," she added suddenly.

Airefalas smiled at her, strangely pleased that she approved. "Well," he answered, pausing with his needle halfway through the cloth. "When you have been at sea as long as I have, you get a lot of practice. I must have sewn miles of sails over the years."

At her blank look, he continued. "Sails... you know... to catch the wind. Every once in a while one gets carried away by the wind or a storm and we have to make new ones."

Latah looked at him suspiciously. "No one can catch wind," she said softly.

It was Airefalas' turn to give her a blank look, then he laughed. "No, I don't mean we capture the wind. It's more like we harness the wind's strength. The wind in the sails makes the ship go." He paused again as another idea occurred to him. "Have you never seen a sailing ship, Latah?"

When she shook her head no, he put his torn shirt aside and took her by the hand, leading her just outside the tent to a level patch of ground. Kneeling down with their heads together like two children, Latah watched as Airefalas smoothed the top layer of sand away with his hand. Then, he drew into the dirt a remarkable likeness of the Lonely Star, explaining as he went what each part of the vessel was called and what it was used for, paying especially close attention to the sails and rigging. It was only as he launched into an enthusiastic explanation of tacking and wearing that he happened to glance up at her only to find her watching his face, rather than his drawing, with an amused look in her dark brown eyes. Embarassed, he sat back on his heels. "What?"

"You miss your ships? You miss the sea?" she asked.

Airefalas gave his drawing a long, contemplative stare, then nodded. "It's what I know."

Nodding that she understood, Latah reached out and drew a tiny fish in one corner of the space next to the hull of the ship. "I like to see someday the sea," she said softly. Catching his eyes one last time, she rose to her feet. "Maybe someday I go with my husband."

Airefalas rose beside her. "Yes, maybe."

"Someday you bring your wife to the desert?"

Caught offguard, Airefalas gave a short bark of laughter. The image of Isabel, with her blonde hair and fair skin, wilting under the beating sunshine in her silk dress without the benefit of a fan or a sunshade, her thin slippers scorching in the sand, arose sharply in his mind. "No!" he said quickly. "No, I, um... " he trailed off helplessly, trying to imagine how he could possibly explain someone like Isabel to Latah. Finally, he shook his head.

"I'm not married."