[Hilde Bracegirdle]

On the second day the dawn revealed a quiet encampment, the few animals still remaining in the care of the people overseen by handful of bleary-eyed shepherds. But the outriders and guards remained vigilant, keeping close watch on both boundaries and guests after the disappearance of the maenwaith Rôg. The fire that was maintained by the bier, burning so brightly as the Meldakhar’s body had been ceremonially brought out and placed beside it, burned much lower now, but it continued to send plumes of curling smoke upward, joining the sky with the earth, the slumbering life hidden in dead wood and brush escaping to gain the freedom of the air.

Narayad who had sat talking with Surinen throughout the night, watched in silence as the sun climbed into the sky over the tents behind Ayar’s high resting place, with westerly breeze pulling at the light veil covering the leader’s face, and carrying the smoke back toward the encampment. It was the first time he had experienced the death of a leader since living among the Eagles, and he was touched by what had witnessed. From the youngest to the oldest, the people of Narayad’s adopted clan had stayed awake long into the night, taking it in turns to encourage Ayar along her way with impromptu and heartfelt song, until their eyes grew too heavy and they slowly melted away in the night, or else slept where they lay.

But now the sunlight found the maenwaith back among the tents, worn from the outpouring of the night before. As the morning grew brighter, out of necessity the activity also increased, for though it was sorely incongruous to have the sorrow of Ayar’s departure so mingled with the preparation in anticipation of Narika and Thorn’s Union, there was much to do that could not wait until their grief waned.

By the late morning, the twice-burnt remnants of Ayar’s possessions were buried, so that she might not be tempted to linger, weighed down by them, but in the heart of the huddled dwellings, happier tasks were underway. Metal goods where brought out and polished, clothes and camel saddles mended, and the felted cloth of mixed wool, that had been so hurriedly made to replace the tent of the Meldakhar, now was rushed to completion for the new couple. And as the steady thump of turmeric being crushed for the marriage preparations, resounded though out the camp, old Dinsûl was to be found rummaging around among boxes and bins looking to find an old drum, hidden there. He had not been among those to play during the evening, feeling his hands no longer as nimble as in his youth, and indeed himself unworthy. But of the wedding revelry he would surely take part, rejoicing with Surinen at Thorn’s happiness, with no fear that his poor playing would be heard over those more dexterous than he.

*****

That afternoon as Dinsûl repaired the broken drum, Surinen tried to sleep in the shade of his father’s tent, after the end of his watch. But he heard the voice of a child speaking outside, and opening his eyes he saw through the opening young Miri sitting beside his father and pulling at the spiraling grey locks that rest on the back of old man’s neck as he sat bent over the drum. She was busily asking questions as he worked, questions about Ayar, and if the other maenwaith could see the smoke from the fire, and how far away they might be. “Hush little Miri!” Surinen growled from the tent. “Such a sweet voiced cricket you are. There are always maenwaith hidden in the desert, and it is said the owl clan is not far distant. But let me sleep in peace! Go and chirp else where, little one.” Reaching back, Dinsûl patted the air to signal his son to silence; and without looking unfastened the tent flap, letting it fall to, blocking Surinen’s view.

*****

At the Eagle’s outpost, where their sprawling herds ranged among sparse bush in the late afternoon sun, the animals grazed in peace. But as the herdsmen looked to the southeast, facing their backs to the way they had traveled their clan they saw a dark smudge growing larger on the horizon and grew concerned, discussing it among themselves.

*****

When at last Narayad returned from his place by the bier, and had a chance to speak alone with Latah, and on finding from his wife that the first mate of the Gondorian vessel had tried to make himself useful, he took a little more interest in the strangers. Perhaps a foreigner could also do what is right in his own heart, rather than what was expected of him, just as he himself had. And with Fador’s approval, he had arranged that Airefalas be allowed to join them at the fireside in the evening, so that he might find out more about this northerner, who shared his family’s tent. It was not told to either first mate or captain what they had planned.

As the sun slid into the west, Surinen showed up just as Latah finished her work. The outriders withdrew together into a corner of the tent, drinking their coffee while in deep conversation, while Latah attended to the guests. Surinen frowned, looking occasionally to where Airefalas and Mithadan sat, but after a time he smiled shaking his head and clapping the larger maenwaith on this back. Then together Latah, Narayad and Surinen approached the men, who stood up in response. Smiling politely, Latah said taking Airefalas hand, “Please follow,” and seeing that Mithadan was not willing to have him led away, Latah struggled to explain the invitation, the mariners struggled equally hard, to follow just what it was she said. But at a nod from his captain, the man allowed Narayad and his wife to quickly usher him out into the night air. And as Narayad had requested, Surinen stayed back a moment, trying to reassure the captain. “We will be returning this man. Do not worry he will be all right. I, Surinen, and will take very good care of him.” And bowing, he walked backward out of the door, speaking to the guard quickly before running to join the others, already well ahead.

The encampment had grown empty and still, as the eagles gathered slowly by the bier for this second night. The fire was now roaring again, as the people settled around it. Slowly, first one and then the other gave voice to traditional songs they had learned by rote, songs that told of their ancestors. Even the very young told of heroic deeds and tragic tales, recounting the history of their people, to uplift and encourage their clan. Shouts and cheering broke out as each one told of how time and again they had overcome adversity, and laughter too accompanied some tales as they remembered those who had outwitted their enemies. Though it all Surinen tried to translate as best he could so that Airefalas might know of the people that surrounded him. But he often became caught up in the stories, giving incomplete accounts, and their guest turned to Latah to try and find the ending. Narayad smiled his approval, seeing the evident interest this stranger had in their history, and through Surinen, he asked Airefalas of his own people, and of their struggles, nodding as the northerner spoke of the Great War in the northwest when men of different nations had fought along side each other, and how his own leader had been proclaimed king. Narayad explained that the preparation for that conflict also had been much felt in the desert.

As he sat with them, Dinsûl, on hearing Narayad’s remark, began his own song in a thin uneven voice. He sang of the leader Thoronda who had guided them during those times, before the mantle of leadership was passed to Ayar, and Narayad grew noticeably sullen, at the tale. As the old man mentioned again the wolf clan, the outrider asked that his friend not translate this story to the guest and stood up with an apology, saying that it was time to go, for the songs of history were nearing their end and, he had promised Fador, Airefalas should not stay once they were over. All eyes around the campfire turned to them as Narayad led the guest away. And seeing the outrider leave, Dinsûl also grew silent, wondering why Narayad would have gone so soon.

But out of the silence another melody arose as the eagle Sorona, raised her voice, to be the first to assure her cousin Ayar, that they would find their way without her presence, thus beginning the second portion of the ritual for that evening. And with that, the others too turned to singing their farewells to the leader, the elder’s making sure to mention their confidence in Ayar’s choice of Narika and Thorn, and the two of them in turn expressing their faith in the elders.

As the people began to feel the flow of the history that continued on though the Meldakhar had left them, they dispersed into the darkness much earlier than they had the night before.