"The Tinganjani Seal"
Part 7
by Osiris Brackhaus

 

Her Sirdai was alive.

It was the very first thought after the shock of having been run through with a sword, and it wasn't about herself. Soraya tried for a smile, but even the muscles in her face didn't want to move. She was still lying on the ground of the ritual tent, her blood all around, soaking into the dry earth.

Like an offering to the spirits, she thought, oddly bemused, as she watched the splattered puddles.

The drummers having long abandoned their play as the ritual went astray, somewhere, in the back of her mind, there was another throbbing sound. Obi's heartbeat, she knew without having been told. He's there in my mind, she realized, and will be until the day I die. And oddest of all, she didn't mind at all.

Obanian was a lousy, leering rodent, but he was her charge, and she would rot among the unburied if she didn't at least try to get him straight. And boy, this snotty bastard would receive a first-class rub-down for botching the bonding ritual like he had, Soraya promised herself. Well, after he got back to consciousness and I am able to move again, that was.

The silence that filled the tent was far from being soundless, as the newborn Warden noted with a certain fascination. Soraya could hear people breathing inside the tent, walking around, some barefooted, some in soft leather moccasins.
She could hear the embers softly crackling in the fire-bowls, the soft hiss of burning tree-sap, the faint croaking of the tent's leather.
Outside, there was the wind, the camp, Tinganjani playing, at least seventy cooking-fires burning, women preparing a deer the hunters had slain this afternoon.

All her senses were flooding her with information, from the position of the people in the room down to the fact that one of the deer stews on a manure fire at the east end of the camp was beginning to burn.

So these were her fabled Warden senses coming to life.

Soraya remembered the stories she had so eagerly listened to when she was still a child, and realized how far away from reality they were. I could outstalk a tawncat, the young Warden thought with gleeful mischief, and immediately added: If I will ever be able to walk again.

Suddenly, a pair of bare feet approached her, and it only took her seconds to identify them as those of Shona Sirdai, the old women bringing with her a strong whiff of very mundane spirit.

"Shhh, Soraya", the old Sirdai said cooingly. "We will help you follow him. Just let us help you." There were others with her, helping Soraya back to her feet, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, basically carrying her out of the tent. "The first nights are always hard, but there is no need to be aggressive. You'll be able to watch for him."

She was so very defensive, Soraya wondered, almost afraid. But everything's fine, I know Obanian will wake up soon enough and be all right. He's just exhausted. The young woman tried to explain, but she didn't get out more than an unintelligible croak.

But then again, there was nothing wrong to be near her charge, Soraya added to herself. She loathed to be carried around the camp like someone mortally wounded, but right then, she just couldn't make her point, could she? With what little control over her body she had, the newborn Warden tried to make herself as light as she could, otherwise giving herself fully to the newly awakened smells and sounds of the night.

While the women carried her to a tent close by, Soraya managed to identify them one by one by their scent alone. The woman to her right had assisted her in preparation for the ritual, the other one smelled unknown to her. But both smelled of the same fire, the same food, so the young Warden concluded they would be sharing a tent, sisters maybe, or brother-sisters.

People were staring at them, she knew without looking from the way all every-day sounds around them died away as they passed, replaced by hushed voices whispering. If only my body would work as neatly as my senses, she cursed inwardly. And why, by the dark one, am I not opening my eyes?

Wondering about this, she tried again, and this time, she blinked into a cooking fire in front of a tent sporting two white Sirdai flags on its top. Shona's Warden was sitting at the fire, his worried frown melting away as his eyes met Soraya's.

"Can you fetch us some water?", Shona asked him in a surprisingly soft voice, and Hama just nodded and disappeared into the night. "Come on, girl, only a few more steps. And first of all, we'll clean this mess Obanian has made of you."

Hearing the old Sirdai speak that name sparked an unexpected anger in Soraya, and before she could think better of it, she heard herself growl most menacingly: "His name's Obi. Obi Sirdai."

Instead of an answer, Shona Sirdai only sighed deeply. "Of course. Come on, girl, lay down."

While the women gently helped her onto a blanket on the ground, Soraya realized that she was sure Obi was lying in the same tent as herself, and a short glimpse to her side confirmed her feeling. I am already starting protecting him, she thought as the women calmly took on to the task of washing the caked blood off her skin. The first thing I will do when he's up is give him a serious thrashing, but I won't have anybody use his old name, even though I personally think he deserves another thrashing for that story as well. This bond is a dangerous thing, no small wonder old Shona is so careful around me.

"Can I...", Soraya croaked weakly, as if having to learn anew how to use her voice, "Can I have a drink? Something strong?"

For a second, all women around her blinked at her in surprise, then it was Shona Sirdai how started chuckling, bursting into laughter only heartbeats later. Even the other women grinned widely, and the new Warden thought that she could smell tremendous relief on them.

"Thank the spirits, she's back to her old self", Shona exclaimed, hugging Soraya in an unusually spontaneous gesture. "Sure you can, girl, I'll go fetch something from my own stock. You just stay here, get cleaned, and once you feel well enough, you get dressed and go sit at the fire. Hama's gonna be there all night, so there will be someone to keep you company and answer your questions." The old woman hesitated for a moment, then added in a genuinely affectionate voice: "It's good to see you well, dear. Losing you would have been such a shameful waste."

And then, without giving Soraya a chance to reply, the old Sirdai was out of the tent.

Flashing an encouraging smile at the two women still sitting next to her, Soraya closed her eyes again, trying to calm her racing thoughts, listening to all the new sensations suddenly available to her.

She could hear Hama sitting at the fire, carving things from a log of wood he must have been carrying in his bag for months. She could hear the whole tribe chatting at their fires, could hear her own name being mentioned along with Obi's, could listen to parents tell stories of ancestral heroes to their children at the fire in front of their families' tents.

And, like an ear is always drawn towards the whispered word and the eye always darts towards things it has just seen in the corner, there was a soft murmur in the night air that caught Soraya's attention and almost spellbound led her back to the tent where the ritual had taken place.

There were voices, too soft for a human ear to hear, but Soraya wasn't entirely human any longer. So many spirits had been needed to keep her body and soul together during the ritual, and some of their essence would remain with her until the day she truly died. She was still human, still Tinganjani, but no longer merely so. A part of her was spirit now, seeing and hearing things the way spirits do. And another part of her was essence now was Obanian, for it had been his will forcing her soul back into her body, his spirit voice sealing her fractured self again, making her what she was now.
Soraya's attention was still drawn to the whispers in a corner of the ritual tent, and it took her only little concentration to recognize them as the three Sirdai talking together in hushed voices, so softly they must have called a spirit to hide their conversation.

"And you are sure he will be alright?", she heard one of the younger Sirdai ask.

"Certain. He's just strained, nothing else." Shona Sirdai, her voice exhausted, but confident.

"And the girl?"

"She's a tough one, and her spirit hasn't suffered. She's exactly what we need."

"You know what I am talking about. We had no hands in the ritual. I am too exhausted to even check if he has done it properly."

"He is so frighteningly strong. How can this be possible?" the third Sirdai exclaimed incredulously, "He was all alone..."

"Each generation is stronger than the one before, and he scares us just as some of our generation have scared the ones before", Shona Sirdai replied evenly. "And yes, he has faithfully copied the spell he had so carefully studied with your Warden, dear sister. All details are met, and the bond is as safe as any other."

Soft sounds of relief showed that the two younger Sirdai had been more worried than they had wanted to admit.

"She will be able to rule him in whenever necessary, and we should all be grateful for that."

"All the spirits, Shona, you can't believe how much that means to me. I think I will get so awfully drunk tonight like never before."

"I'll just go to bed and sleep like a log." Soft laughter answered Shona Sirdai's comment, and then the rustling of long robes was heard in the tent, indicating the end of the conversation.

They were afraid of Obanian, Soraya wondered in her tent. So terribly afraid they rushed my testing and the ceremony. But why...? So many things they don't tell me.

The women cleaning her had long gone, and the camp quieted as one by one, all Tinganjani went to sleep. Just the constant steps of the guards remained, together with the soft sounds of Hama sitting in front of the tent, tending the fire, carving.

At first, Soraya had thought she would sleep for a night and a day, exhausted as she was, but to her great surprise, she felt restless. Slowly, her body had returned from its shocked stupor, and now she felt well enough to dress again and go out to talk to the old Warden. There were legends of Wardens not needing any sleep, but Soraya had always thought them exaggerated. Especially so as this delicate fact had mostly been mentioned in camp-fire stories about some Warden's legendary amorous adventures. But apparently, there was a kernel of truth in every legend, she thought to herself with a grin.

On his blanket in the other corner of the tent, Obanian was by now sleeping soundly, a soft wheeze indicating he was truly at rest, his heartbeat sound and steady in the back of his Warden's mind.

So Soraya dressed again, the sensation of her own clothes so familiar and yet so very new on her exceedingly sensitive skin. There was no light inside the tent, but that no longer bothered her. She could easily hear the rough proportions of things around her, and all else her fingers found nimbly in the dark.
Only when she touched the bundle that contained her sword, her hands hesitated for a moment. It was her proper right to wear it openly now, but still it would feel strange. Weighing the heavy bundle in her hands, she stood in the dark, until she suddenly wondered why she was hesitating at all.
She had become the first woman Warden ever, had achieved the goal she had been working for all these years. And one never knew what might happen, anyway. Noticing the distinct feeling of paranoia tug nervously at the edge of her mind, she started to untie the bundle with a grin.
This bond was a dangerous thing for sure. There was no reason at all to expect that her Sirdai was in any danger except as a result of his own bad influence, and still there was a tiny part of her screaming in panic for his life.

As if she had done so countless times already, Soraya wound the belt around her waist, feeling the sword in its sheath dangle heavily against her hip. Now I truly am a Warden, she thought, with a sword at my side, a scar on my chest and my Sirdai's heartbeat in the back of my mind.

Silent as a tawncat, she stepped out of the tent, acutely aware how clumsily she had been moving all her life. My former life, she added in thought, and smiled as she felt no regret, only excitement.

At the cooking fire right next to the tent-flap, Hama was sitting as she had expected, a carving knife in his hand, a small but still rather impressive pile of wooden spoons beside him. Looking up, he grinned widely, his weather-worn face looking more like old leather in the low light, his eyes sparkling.

"You are early", he noted in his sonorous rumble, indicating Soraya to sit down next to him. "That's good."

"Is it?"

"Sure." Once again, the old Warden smiled at her fondly. "Most new Wardens would rather scratch and bite before leaving their Sirdai's side, and take a few nights until they realize nothing will happen if they start living on their own again."

The red-haired Warden shrugged nonchalantly. "The little rodent's fast asleep on his blanket, his heartbeat steady and sound, so why should I worry?"

Hama raised his eyebrows, more in appreciation than in surprise. "So you can already hear him in your mind, yes? That's good, very good. It took me days to figure out what it was I was feeling. I first thought it was a bad headache."

Soraya smiled, feeling too modest to reply anything. Instead, sitting at the cooking-fire, she noted she was ravenously hungry and asked: "Shona promised me a drink. And I feel like starving."

This time, Hama laughed out loud, instantly remembering that the whole camp around them was sleeping and settled for a choked chuckle. "Oh Soraya, you're great, you know that?" As the young Warden looked at him with slight confusion, he explained: "You've just been killed, reborn, your spirit reforged with a bond to your Sirdai and the first you ask for is food. That's good, very good."

"Now do I get something to eat or not?" Silently, Soraya wondered if there was something wrong with her bond after all, if apparently she reacted so much less impressed and confused about it.

"Of course, dear, of course." Hama smiled widely, pulling a small copper pot out of a thick fur wrapping. "Here, should be right the temperature to eat by now. And next to you, there's a small waterskin Shona has brought for you."

The container wasn't really hot anymore, but still warm, and contained deer stew, which wasn't a big surprise. A surprise, though, was the fact that it was pungently spiced, not only with the herbs growing on the plain, but with more exotic flavors. With her suddenly so increased senses, the sensation was exhilarating.

"I thought you'd appreciate if I used some of my special stock", Hama mentioned softly as he saw the young woman smelling at the food with fascination. "Here, have some bread."

"Are there berries in the stew?"

"Some. I traded some spoons against a bag of dried berries when we were at your tribe. Thought they might come in handy one day."

Taking the bread and spoon Hama offered her, Soraya started to wolf down the food until her first overwhelming hunger was sated. Then she slowed down, chewing thoughtfully, and asked pointing at the dozens of spoons lying next to her colleague: "So is it true we never sleep?"

Curious, the old Warden followed her look, and smiled as he understood what Soraya was thinking. "It is. Gives you a lot of time."

"For carving spoons."

"And mending all the stuff your Sirdai has managed to break during the day, to clean your stuff and hers and yes, to do useful things you can trade to have a little surplus for special moments." Smiling widely again, he added: "And I am sure a strapping young woman like you will find a lot of things she can do with her newfound time as well."

So it wasn't rumors after all, Soraya thought with a certain grim set to her forehead, stuffing her mouth with food before she could say something childish. Though if there weren't so awfully few decent men out there, the prospect would have had a certain allure, she had to admit silently. Carefully, she opened the small waterskin she found next to her natami, the low, leather-wrapped pillow she was sitting on. First, she shied away from the biting scent of the drink, but then she took a deep swallow, sighing gratefully as she felt the familiar warm tingle run through her body.

"So what you think", Hama switched the subject without trying to be subtle, "will there be any trouble tonight? Anything lurking in the dark?"

"Don't think so. It doesn't smell of tawncat territory. And the wildlife around is too silent to have a bolwe running around." Sitting there, Soraya concentrated on what little sound reached her from the surrounding plain. Suddenly, she looked up at Hama, stating: "It's too quite out there. Much too quiet."

The old Warden nodded, looking at her as if he was waiting for her to find the reason herself.

"A lindwyrm?", Soraya asked in subdued shock as the most probable reason came to her mind. "This camp is close to a lindwyrm nest?!"

"Shh, girl, you don't have to wake up the whole tribe." Hama gestured her to keep calm, then continued explaining: "Yes, it is a lindwyrm, but it's almost a day's trip from here."

"But..." Soraya was still stunned that the Warden was sitting next to her, apparently fully untouched by the danger the Tribe was in.

"My dear, this is one thing you'll have to learn with your new senses. The spirits are telling you much more than you could ever have known when you were still like the other Tinganjani. But a lot of what they tell you, you probably never wanted to know. Yes, there is a lindwyrm, but there always is. And if it's not a lindwyrm, it's a tawncat pride or a pack of bolwes or a whatnot. There isn't one place that's safe on the plain, at least not for someone with senses as acute as us."

"That is..."

"Normal. So we don't have to run around the camp, making everybody fuss about a very ordinary every-day problem, do we?"

"No." Soraya knew the old warden was right, but still the thought unsettled her. Just to do anything that would keep her from fidgeting nervously, she started to eat what was left of her stew.

Hama, after giving her a long, thoughtful look, only nodded silently and returned to his wooden spoons. Suddenly, having the whole night ahead of her with basically nothing to do at her hands than worrying about the tribe and her Sirdai seemed an awfully long time to Soraya.

"Is there anything to do I could help with?", she finally asked.

"Not much." Again looking at her thoughtfully, the old warden smiled softly. "But you'll be leaving together with your charge first thing come tomorrow dawn. So if you feel up to the task, you could go to the creek and fetch some fresh water for the two of you, pack together some food, check if your horses are all right and your saddles are - "

"Yes, yes, I know the line." Having prepared for hundreds of trips, Soraya knew pretty well all the things she had to have an eye on. It was nothing new, nothing great, but at least something to do. So she stood up, gently touching the other warden's shoulder as he passed him. "Thanks, Hama."

"Nothing to thank me for, dear. You'll do the same for a lot of first-nighters, I'm sure. And now go. Familiar tasks will help you clear your mind."

Nodding, the young warden left, several empty waterskins dangling over her shoulder. The night air was crisp and clear, her Sirdai's heartbeat sound and steady. In the relative silence of the sleeping camp, with the stars above her so clear and bright like she had never seen them before, Soraya decided that being a Warden actually felt quite as cool as she had imagined it to be.

------

"Come on you little sloth, get up!" Gently shaking Obi's shoulder, Soraya wondered how a person seriously could sleep that deeply. A bolwe would have enough time to eat him at least half way before he would notice. "Obi, come on. They're already waiting for us."

Slowly, she felt her charge's heartbeat take up pace, and finally, the young Sirdai opened his eyes. Looking at Soraya first, then at the gray light of dawn outside, he twisted his face in a smirking frown. "Not with such a headache. Give me some time to wake up."

"You don't have any headache", the red-haired woman snorted sharply, instinctively knowing her charge was actually feeling pretty fine. Trying to keep her anger at his clumsy and stupid attempt in check, she added evenly: "And if ever you lie to me again, I'll hang you in a tree upside-down until you apologize."

His eyes turning into narrow slits, his fuming anger almost amusingly prominent in the back of Soraya's mind, Obi hissed: "You wouldn't. I'm a Sirdai now."

"Just watch me." Chuckling at the young Sirdai's childish frustration, Soraya said: "Now come on, stop pouting. The tribe will see us off once the sun has fully risen, so there's just enough time left for you to get dressed and cleaned. All else, I've already prepared over night."

Trying to give Obi a chance to cool off his arrogant temper, Soraya turned around and started rummaging in one of the low chests without giving him a chance to reply. Behind her back, the young shaman sat up, rubbed his eyes and yawned noisily. Then, there was quite a moment of silence, until Obi said mischievously: "I'm not pouting."

Looking back over her shoulder, Soraya found the young Sirdai staring at her rear with a rather appreciative grin, and despite her best effort, furious anger flared up in her. "No, you aren't", she pointed out rather softly, and anyone with a remote instinct for survival would have known he was in grave danger. "You are leering..."

But apparently, the warning was completely lost to Obi. Turning his grin into a sleazy, lopsided smirk, he added: "I had demanded a pretty Warden, and I think they picked just the right one."

Something snapped in Soraya, and before she could think, she was across the tent, slapping her charge square across the face, quickly, one left, one right. Maybe he was in the age when boys were just able to think about one thing only, but there were things that went just too far from the very beginning.

"And that is", she pointed out fuming, "what happens if you give me this kind of shit."

"You...", Obi stammered, too furious to speak evenly. "You can't do this!"

"I just did, and don't tempt me to do so again. And now get yourself to the creek and wash your dirty face before I drag you there."

Taking in a deep breath, the young Sirdai gave her a killing stare, then abruptly stood up and briskly walked out of the tent, wearing nothing but a soft leather jerkin.
For a few moments, Soraya watched him walk across the camp, definitely not towards the creek, then she walked out as well.

"Now," Hama who was still sitting on his natami at the cooking fire remarked compassionately, "that went better than expected."

"Did it?" The red-haired warden didn't sound too convinced.

"Well, you're both still alive, no-one's been seriously hurt and the camp hasn't been burned to the ground. So that's not the worst start the two of you could have had."

"Well, I think his pride has been hurt. Seriously so."

Hama shrugged unimpressed. "So what. He's just on his way to get himself another serious rub-down."

"How do you mean?"

"He went to where he saw the other Sirdai. Probably to complain about his 'insolent, disrespectful Warden'."

"And?"

"They'll laugh at him. And pretty loudly at that."

Sitting down on her own natami, Soraya looked to where she had lost sight of her charge among the other tribesmen.

"Respect can only be given as a gift, never as a tribute", the old warden at her side continued. "And if he can't get even his warden to respect him, not a single chieftain ever will. So he's on his way to complain about having failed his most basic braid."

"Oh my." Soraya sighed deeply.

That boy would have some painful growing up to do before he would ever become the Sirdai he could be. And for the very first time, she wondered if she was the right person to see him through.

-----

"NO!"

Hardly believing her senses, Soraya rushed towards the immense oak her Sirdai had disappeared in.

"Obi, get out of there! All the spirits, you're going to kill both of us!"

From behind the low-hanging branches, her charge's voice yelled back quivering with excitement: "Just stop fretting, the nest is abandoned."

"Obi!" Still stunned with disbelief of how careless a supposedly intelligent shaman could act, the young Warden found her way through the thick cover of leaves and twigs that enshrouded the oak's massive trunk. "Obi, I can feel the lindwyrm, if there's truly a nest it won't be abandoned!"

"Whoa!" Somewhere up the gnarled tree, hidden behind what looked from the ground like a low wall of twigs and vine, the youngster hooted in amazement, his excitement ringing in the back of Soraya's mind like a silver bell. "You're right, there're eggs in here! And six of them!"

"Get DOWN!"

Standing at the base of the tree, Soraya stared up into the crown with her arms stemmed into her sides. Of course, at the very first stop only a half a day away from the camp, they had to stumble across the only lindwyrm nest within a week's ride. And her impossible Sirdai had nothing better to do than to climb right in.

"Obi Sirdai, get down here NOW!"

"And what if not?", was the rather bored-sounding reply she got from her charge.

"I'll come and get you..."

Once again, the tone of Soraya's voice should have been more than enough of a warning for anybody. But her Sirdai wasn't anybody, as he had repeatedly made clear in the short time they knew each other. So instead of doing the sensible thing and coming down immediately, Obi only gave a soft snort and ignored his fuming Warden.

In her mind, she could almost tangibly feel the young shaman's excitement at his discovery, but at the same time, Soraya had a horribly bad feeling about this. A lindwyrm never abandoned its nest for long, and especially not when they were breeding. If he returned, she had little hope that she would survive the encounter, as good as she might have been with sword and spear.
And Obi, well, until now he had only acted a spoiled little brat, so he probably would only complain about her dying instead running for his life.

Deciding that her charge's life was more important than his sense of dignity, Soraya shrugged and turned towards the tree her Sirdai had disappeared into. Making sure her short spear was securely tied on her back, she stepped up towards the massive, gnarled trunk, looking for the best way to climb up as well.

Spirits, she thought in vague horror. Even in my wildest days I would never even have thought about getting close to a lindwyrm nest, and now the first thing I do as a Warden is climb into one! In her memory, she still had vivid images of the warriors of her tribe returning after a grisly battle when an old lindwyrm had attacked them while their tribe had traveled the plain. Lyndwyrms, like the lizards and snakes they were related to, were rather shy creatures, but like their much smaller kin they were vicious if angered.
She had been about eight summers of age, and she would never forget the silent return of the surviving men, their faces gray and their eyes hollow with terror. All they had explained that evening in hushed tones had been that the beast had just refused to die properly until the very end.
Right now, the young Warden surely was in no mood at all to ever find out first-hand what the warriors had meant by this.

So grabbing a low-hanging branch, she hauled herself up into the tree, sending a silent prayer to the spirits to keep the nest's owner busy for only the next few minutes. Gnarled and stocky as the tree was, getting up to her Sirdai wasn't a problem at all for her, and she already prepared to bark at the young shaman. But when she finally saw what he was actually doing, she was so aghast she even forgot to breathe at first.

Sitting in the middle of a low nest of vines and dry grass the size of a tent, her irresponsible charge sat surrounded by half a dozen pale eggs a little bigger than his head. The Sirdai's face was beaming with unabashed joy as he held up one of them, it's leathery shell suddenly illuminated by light that seemed to come from within. Inside, Soraya could make out a slender shape, a slithering body already filling the egg completely.
In the low light underneath the dense canopy of leaves, the effect was one of the eeriest things she had ever seen, except maybe a sword piercing her heart.

And definitely one of the most dangerous.

"Are you mad?" she hissed at Obi, rushing towards him while most carefully watching out not to damage anything. "Put that down!"

"Isn't it beautiful?", he replied as if Soraya hadn't said anything at all. His eyes were completely transfixed by the strange and admittedly wondrous creature within the egg he was holding, his voice as soft and distant as if dreaming.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, the Warden finally lost her patience. Snatching the egg from Obi like she would snatch a rabbit in a teja race, she set it down behind her, out of the young Sirdai's reach.

"Obi," she snapped sharply. "No."

For a heartbeat, the young shaman stared at her without understanding, his mind still dazed with the wonder he had felt with the little lindwyrm in his hands. He looked small in the huge nest, his face open and confused like a small child's that doesn't understand what he did wrong. There was such fear and hurt in the back of his eyes that Soraya wondered if she maybe had acted to harshly. But then Obanian's eyes narrowed, his mouth set in this arrogant pout that made her want to slap him just for good measure.

"Who do you think you are?" he hissed back with a bitterness that belied the innocence his eyes had shown the moment before. "I am Sirdai now. I decide. You serve."

"Yes I serve." Anger was roiling in Soraya so dark she had never thought herself capable of. "But I serve the Tribes, not you. You, I protect, whether you want to or not."

Intent on grabbing the boy by his ears and hauling him out of the tree, Soraya made a step forward, but Obanian scrambled back from her, raising his arms in a protective gesture. And even though his mouth did not move, the Warden thought she could hear his voice, a single word uttered to the spirits, more a plea than an order. Soraya recognized the spirit voice she had heard during the ritual, but it was a pale image of what she had heard then.

Nonetheless, he halted her movement, just swiftly enough to see the air right in front of her shimmering with some unnatural power, like air over stones shimmering on a hot summer's day.

"Don't you dare to touch me." Obanian whispered in a choked voice, angry and fearful at the same time. "Don't you dare. I am no weak child you can beat into submission. I am Sirdai!"

Stunned beyond words, Soraya tried to understand what was just happening. They were in about one of the most dangerous place on the whole damn plain, and her charge seriously thought he'd have to battle out matters of precedence with here. Here and now, once and for all. That was so irresponsible and childish and of all things plain arrogant that her mind seemed to refuse to acknowledge the fact.

There were very few things the Tinganjani considered a crime, but consciously endangering your people for no other reason but the fact that you could was one of them. In any other case, Soraya would have just left the scene and abandoned Obanian. She would have called the tribe's council of eldest to decide on an appropriate punishment that hopefully would make him act less selfishly in the future.
But there was no tribe any longer. The brat was right on one thing, he was Sirdai now. He was without a tribe, and she with him. All matters would have to be solved between just the two of them, for the good of all the tribes.

But did that have to be in the nest of a breeding lindwyrm?

"Obi, look," Soraya tried another approach, though her voice didn't loose much of its sharpness. "This is dangerous. I am trying to protect you, and I really, really don't want to find out if you could fight a lindwyrm on your own. That will happen soon enough, and forcing it would be a shameful - "

Right then, a distant sound caught her attention, a faint hiss on the air that made her blood congeal. The sound of leathery wings hitting the air, huge wings, coming her way.

"He's coming back." she whispered urgently, turning to leave the nest as fast as possible. Maybe there was still enough time to get out of this alive.

But here charge was still sitting on the floor of the nest, staring at her with anger and defiance, not even moving an inch.

"What?!" she tried to whisper and yell at the same time. "Obi, I am not joking!"

Still there was a shimmering barrier in the air between them, and still that silly lump of flesh that was her charge didn't move.

"You won't trick me...", the young Sirdai said, but there was already doubt in his voice.

"All the winds, silly child!" it broke out of Soraya, "You know if I lie to you or not. We're bonded! Use your brain for a change, you little piece of shit!"

Already, the sounds of the approaching lindwyrm were unnervingly close, and yet still not audible to mere human ears, apparently.

"I..." he stammered, looking haunted now more than angry. "I just wanted to look at the eggs..."

Rolling her eyes, Soraya tried to come up with some more convincing arguments and expletives, but she never got the chance to voice them. Suddenly, the hiss of beaten air was all around the old tree, and with a grace that belied its size and momentum, the massive body of a lindwyrm seemed to slam into the branches and stopped abruptly.

For a heartbeat, no sound was heard except the soft rustle of falling leaves and the heavy breath of the huge animal. Its head, even bigger than the head of a horse, was hanging in the air right ahead of the two humans, its long, thick neck curving up to where the beast held tight to some massive branches. The lindwyrm didn't move, only breathed heavily, its silver-gray scales moving, its few blue specks bright and glaring with anger, its wings twitching nervously along his back.

It was a huge beast, even compared to the stories Soraya had heard, and it looked neither sick nor weak with old age. Actually, it looked just very, very angry.
Then the beast audibly took in a deep breath, pumping itself up to a degree that the Warden could actually see the scales at its chest stick up from the skin underneath. With an expression that could only be interpreted as raging fury, the lindwyrm suddenly screamed at the two humans, a roaring, screeching sound, deafening and something that would bring you nightmares if heard in a silent night on the plain.

But right then, the beast's furious roar was all Soraya needed to snap out of her transfixed stupor. Casting a quick glance at Obanian, she realized that the boy was immobile with fear. But it seemed the lindwyrm's scream had also affected the spirit the shaman had called to protect him from his warden - and with what sounded pretty close to a frightened yelp, the shimmering barrier in the air disappeared in less than an instant.

Immediately, Soraya lurched forward and pulled Obi down, just fast enough to hear the beast's broad jaws snap into nothing but empty air where her Sirdai's head had been. Now completely mad with rage, the lindwyrm retracted its head to take a better aim at the two offenders, but that was all the time Soraya needed. Holding Obanian clutched to her chest, she rolled to the side, away from the beast, pushing herself over the rim of the nest, taking the boy with her.

Plummeting down to the ground several strides below, she had enough time to watch the lindwyrm plough his face through the side of his nest. Then she impacted hard on the gnarled roots at the foot of the old tree, her body screaming with pain. Luckily, she had been able to resist her instincts to turn around, so Obanian landed on top of her, adding another share of bruises to her already broad assortment.
She didn't dwell on the fact that no human should have survived a fall like this without breaking his back, but she was grateful none the less. Maybe the reason for all these strange and amazing abilities one gained when becoming a warden was the simple fact that you needed any and all of them to survive the mess your Sirdai got you into.

Simply hauling Obanian along with her, she rushed to where she had left their horses. Maybe, just maybe, they would be lucky enough to have the lindwyrm check on his brood first before going after them, that might give them the few more moments they so desperately needed.

Sending a silent prayer to the spirits, Soraya ran for her life. Above them, in the tree, the lindwyrm screamed again, but it sounded like music to the young woman. Each heartbeat the beast wasted with anything but killing them was a welcome gift to her.
As soon as she left the dark canopy of the tree's low-hanging branches, she whistled to call the horses that were standing not far off at the border of a narrow thicket. Still mostly dragging Obi with her, it took Soraya a moment to realize that the horses wouldn't come to her as they had been trained. Stunned with fear, the poor animals were standing there as transfixed by the lindwyrm's scream as Soraya had been by the beast's sudden appearance. She would be lucky if the horses would move at all.

Behind her, under the tree, the lindwyrm screeched again, reminding her to prepare an offering for the spirits tonight, if they would survive this. Apparently, the beast was taking great care to make sure its brood was unharmed. But then again, why should it hurry? Even as swift as the Tinganjani horses were, on the open plain they were no match for a flying lindwyrm. And there was nothing in sight that could remotely be used as a cover, especially not against a beast as sensitive to smell as a lindwyrm.

Cursing softly, Soraya stopped and hauled Obanian onto her shoulders, now holding him at a leg and an arm, with the weight of his body resting on her back. That the Sirdai was feebly struggling against this treatment wasn't even worth a thought to her. This way, she could run much better, and speed was all they needed.

Arriving at their horses, she could see that her own steed was merely frightened, while the Sirdai's pale ride was almost dying with terror.
Again with a silent curse between her teeth, Soraya simply threw Obanian onto her horse, ignoring his painful yelp. He would yelp much more when she was finished with him, she promised herself grimly. Jumping onto the horse right behind the Sirdai herself, she grabbed the loose reins of the other horse, kicking hers to get it out of its stupor.

Finally getting a direction where to flee, Soraya's horse burst into a gallop that was quite amazing given the steed's usually so temperate nature. Even Obanian's horse was confused enough to be led away without a rider, and followed Soraya's lead without much struggle.

Dashing across the open plain, the high grass flying by them so fast it looked like a shapeless green mass, for several moments it seemed as if the lindwyrm had forgotten the unwelcome visitors for good. But when behind her, Soraya heard the by now familiar scream of a lindwyrm not too far behind her in the air, she knew it would be a very close race. A swift glance over her shoulder confirmed her worst fears: they hadn't managed to get enough distance between them and the beast while it was still checking its nest, and now it followed them relentlessly.

Kicking her horse again in a vain hope that it would be enough to make it run even faster than the angry beast that followed them, Soraya saw little options in her situation. With a deep sigh, she let go Obanian's horse, hoping the poor dear would do what all confused horses usually did. Follow her for a moment longer, then decide that it was too straining and settle to a slower pace.

Looking back over her shoulder again, she saw that she had guessed right. Confused and out of breath, the pale horse fell back swiftly, not realizing that the lindwyrm was catching up behind it. Only a few heartbeats later, Soraya heard the poor animal whinny in shock and pain as the lindwyrm grabbed it with its claws, dragging the horse along several paces. When the horrified screams of the horse suddenly stopped, the young woman didn't turn around again. The lindwyrm had decided that killing one member of the offending party was enough for today, and was now feeding on the horse it had slain.

Looking down at the young man who was lying in front of her, she felt the dire urge to whack him black and blue. It had been a good horse, and losing it for no reason but the boy's foolish pride was a shameful waste. But Soraya knew as well that if the lindwyrm hadn't accepted the horse and instead have followed them further, she would have jumped off the horse and offered herself. Whether she wanted to or not, her duty was to protect her Sirdai, even with her own life, even if only for his own foolishness.

For the first time ever, Soraya wondered if becoming a Warden had been a wise decision.

 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Osiris Brackhaus

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