Soul Bonds Book 1 Circles of Light series (9 page)

Chapter Nine

Emla stood, midmorning sunlight making her robes shimmer around her tall figure in ever changing colours, and waited calmly. Two specks in the southern sky grew bigger until they could be seen to be pale blue and pale green Dragons. They drew closer and now two figures were visible, sitting behind the Dragons’ wings.

The Seniors, hidden within the House, stared at each other in amazement as their minds were filled with a glorious song of praise and greeting to the Lady. Four very different voices, but harmonising perfectly in their song.

The Dragons were circling now, finally gliding to land before the Lady. She looked at them for a moment, too overcome suddenly to speak. The young Dragons shining with life and newness, their two riders unkempt and ill clothed, but standing tall as the Dragons stood erect to make a formal greeting.

Suddenly Farn and Ashta looked worried, prismed eyes whirred rapidly. The human and the Nagum turned to the Dragons in concern. It was Farn who finally addressed Emla. ‘Lady, we do not know the proper greeting for you. We are ashamed to dishonour you.’

Emla laughed, knowing suddenly all was well. She moved closer to the four, her hands outstretched. ‘It matters not, my dear ones, you are here and that is what matters. I am Emla and I bid you warm welcome.’

Human and Nagum found Emla’s arms around their shoulders. ‘I had thought we would talk,’ said the Lady, ‘but I should have known you would be weary and hungry.’ She laughed at the surge of agreement from four young minds. ‘Come then, and take no notice of Gan and his sword – he will do you no harm!’ They were near enough to the House now for Gan to hear the last remark and he glared at the Lady in outrage.

‘Shan! Bara!’ The maids came running to the door and stopped to stare. ‘Close your mouths girls! These are my guests. Fetch tea and juices and all the foods you can think of! We will sit here in the sun.’ The maids rushed to obey and Emla bespoke the Dragons regarding food for them. ‘We ate well this morning, but Mim and Tika tire of meat and there has been little fruit for them where we have journeyed.’ Ashta answered her.

Farn and Ashta reclined on the soft lawn edging the verandah and Tika and Mimnan automatically sat leaning against the Dragons. Emla was about to suggest they join her beside a low table but thought better of it on seeing how at ease they looked where they were.

Ashta’s eyes whirred as the Seniors came out of the House.

Iska spoke first, looking straight into Ashta’s eyes. ‘I had not realised how beautiful you are.’

Kemti and Yash murmured their agreement. Farn’s head stretched a little higher and Tika laughed. Farn glanced down at her and drooped a little. Sorry.” The Seniors were not sure they had heard correctly and looked a little puzzled.

At that moment though, the maids returned with trays laden with all kinds of different pies and tarts and breads. ‘Come, help yourselves,’ Emla invited. She gave a warning look to the Seniors whose minds were quivering with questions. ‘Eat your fill, Tika and Mimnan,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you may feel like telling us your stories when you have eaten enough.’

Mimnan, having reseated himself beside Ashta, with a heaped plate of delicacies, rose to his feet again. He bowed carefully to Emla and said aloud in a gently fluting voice, ‘If it please your Ladyship, you must call this one Mim. We do not use our whole names until we are considered responsibly grown.’ He blushed, the red of his cheeks clashing with his russet curls, and sat down again.

‘Aah. Mim,’ repeated Emla thoughtfully. ‘Tika is the correct name for you?’

‘Well.’ Tika rose as Mim had done to speak to the Lady. ‘I was called Chena when I was a slave, but Kija – that’s Farn’s mother you know – she called me Tika. It means “small one” in the Dragon tongue.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I will always be called Tika now I think my Lady.’

When Tika and Mim had eaten, both of them relishing the change from meat only for nearly every meal, it was decided that Tika and Farn should tell their tale first. Emla asked, ‘Mim, Ashta, would you like to stay or is there anything you wish to see or do that I can provide?’

‘Mim would see your Garden, Lady.’ Ashta said as Mim leaned against her, blushing again.

‘Of course! Gan,’ she called. ‘Ask someone to find Lorak and have him come to us please.’

Very shortly, an elderly battered looking human male appeared before Emla. He gave a creaky bow. ‘Lorak, my guest would see the Garden. He is called Mim and knows much of plants I believe.’ She smiled at Mim. ‘And Ashta?’

‘I would see these plants also my Lady,’ replied Ashta. ‘I know a little of medicine plants, but I would learn more.’

Lorak glanced at both Ashta and Farn, showing not a flicker of surprise at the sight of Dragons. ‘You won’t see the Garden at its best of course,’ he said. ‘Already the frosts have finished many of the flowers.’

‘Lorak, you know full well, the Garden is always perfect for each Season. Take Ashta and Mim then and let them share some of your growing magic.’

Lorak and Mim bowed and, with Ashta, set off along the side of the great House.

‘I wonder, do all gardeners always complain?’ Emla asked thoughtfully. ‘Too much sun, too much rain, too little rain, too cold, even though the Garden looks quite beautiful even as they complain.’

‘Lady,’ Iska reminded Emla firmly, ‘we would hear the story these two can tell us.’

While Tika and Farn were beginning their tale, Mim was gazing ecstatically at a cluster of shining white cup blossoms. His three fingered hands reached to not quite touch each perfect trumpet bloom. ‘These have ever been this one’s favourite of all,’ he told Lorak.

‘Hmmph. Awkward things to grow I find. They sulk if you try to move them.’

‘If you tell them why you have to move them,’ Mim explained earnestly, ‘and take a great deal of the earth they are already rooted in, they will move happily.’

‘Really?’ Lorak studied Mim more closely. Mim’s very broad upper face, with the large eyes tilted sharply upwards at the outer corners, narrowed quickly to a pointed chin. Lorak realised the blue eyes had vertical pupils, that was what seemed “different”. ‘What are you boy, you are not human nor are you one of the Lady’s folk?’

‘This one is Nagum. We spend our lives caring for growing things, in a land far from here.’ The fluting voice held tones of wistfulness.

Lorak’s gaze rested on Ashta, whose long face was buried in a low spreading green bush. She spoke in Lorak’s mind. ‘These are good to eat slowly when the body feels too hot.’

‘We call it fever break.’ Lorak took a leaf in his twisted fingers, a bitter scent rising as he bent the leaf in half. Time passed swiftly as Mim and Lorak exchanged tips for successful gardening. Lorak was highly gratified by Mim’s rapture when shown the vegetable section. Ashta listened, occasionally asking a question, but mainly glad that Mim was so happy.

Then Yash bespoke them to ask if they would speak with the Seniors now, and both Lorak and Mim were startled to see how low the sun had already sunk. They made their way back to the verandah to find Tika and Farn gone, apparently with Gan Jal-Sarl. Lorak surprised Emla and the Seniors, and probably himself, by bowing deeply to Mim as he left. ‘An honour to show you the Garden, Mim. I would be pleased should you care to visit again. You know where to find my workshop.’ He winked, bowed to Ashta and stumped back across the velvet lawns.

‘Well,’ said Emla. ‘I’ve never known him so polite.’ She looked at Mim with interest.

‘He was most kind to this person my Lady. This one’s heart is much gladdened to have seen your wonderful blossoms.’

‘We have heard how Tika and Farn became bonded and of their troubled beginning. Which of you will tell us your tale?’

Ashta’s faceted eyes flashed rapidly. Mim leant back against her as she said, ‘Mim will tell how he came to my mother’s nesting cave in time to bond with me. Then I will tell the rest.’

One of Mim’s hands clasped a pendant hanging from a chain round his neck, while the other hand continually caressed Ashta’s wing. He took a deep breath. ‘This person was in the woodland beyond the village, seeking seeds of a plant that his mother deeply desired. He was alone, even the small brother this one usually had with him was left at home. You see, they were very special seeds, most hard to find, and this one was seeking them to give as a gift. He was far from the village when smoke was in the air. The trees were nervous, they always are when untame fire is loose. It took this one much time to return.’

Mim stopped, his huge slanted eyes brimming with tears. Ashta rumbled in agitation and Emla said quietly. ‘You do not have to tell any more Mim. If you would open your mind and allow us to see, it will be less sore for you my dear.’ Mim nodded once, closed his eyes and relaxed against Ashta.

The Seniors and the Lady saw devastation. Smouldering ruins where only a brief time before small dwellings had stood. Amidst the smoking heaps of tumbled walls were other heaps. They saw, as Mim had done, the charred bodies of his parents, his baby brother, cousins, neighbours and friends.

It was Linvak work. When Mim’s wits gathered themselves a little, when the first appalling shock was ebbing, he realised the whole place stank of Linvaks. Mim did not remember how many days it took him to bury all the members of his small community. He planted the seeds he had gathered around his family, and then he left. He wandered aimlessly back into the woodlands, finally collapsing under a bell tree and sleeping for he knew not how long.

He woke to a bright morning sky and to the woodland softly murmuring around him. He had only the clothes he was wearing, every other article in the village had been destroyed. He looked in each direction, then, weeping again, he gently plucked a bell flower from the tree above him and tossed it in the air. Whichever direction it landed in, that was the way he would go. It was of little importance to him now. The bell flower settled softly and Mim began walking.

In four days he was clear of the dense woodlands he was accustomed to and climbing ever steeper slopes. He ate berries and shoots that he gathered as he walked, and drank water from the busy streams. But as the trees became fewer and the land more mountainous, food was in short supply. Finally the icy stream he had been climbing beside, disappeared under rocks. Mim sat for a while by the birthplace of the little stream and gazed back the way he’d come. The woodlands were in truth already leagues behind him. He looked up at the way he seemed to have chosen. Sheer cliffs confronted him, cracked with gullies and scarred by rockfalls.

He got to his feet and began to climb. He had nearly gained the top of a crag when small stones began to patter down, prelude perhaps to a more serious fall of rock. Looking to each side, he saw the barest ledge to his left. His four bare toes clung to this tiny lip and he pressed himself as tight to the crag as he could. His outstretched hand suddenly discovered space, not stone. Mim realised he didn’t really care much as to what happened, he just hoped death didn’t hurt too badly. As the ledge beneath his toes began to disintegrate he launched himself round and into the emptiness.

He slid a short distance, was jolted to a stop and spun sideways. He raised his head to see he was at the mouth of a shadowed cave. He imagined a pair of eyes glittering with colours was staring at him. Then he lost consciousness.

The silvery green She Dragon, Hani lived apart from others of her Treasury. She liked solitude and found Gatherings exhausting. Hani dreamed, of the music the winds made as they chased through and over her mountains. She dreamed of the flowers she had spied far down in the woodlands, that they suddenly bloomed, all their riotous colours covering these grey and barren rocks.

Hani had been dreaming as she waited for her three eggs to hatch when a noise had disturbed her. She investigated the entrance area of her nesting cave and found Mim. His curly hair was the exact shade of the flowers Hani had thought most enchanting in the woodlands. That fact, combined with the pain and distress filling his small body, made her carry him gently back to lie by her eggs.

When he woke, he showed no surprise or fear, being so lost in his unhappiness. Until, that is, Hani’s first born daughter wobbled out of her shell. Then Mim gasped and held his hands out to the beautiful hatchling, crying, ‘This one is honoured to greet you!’

Emla watched, sitting as still as stone, as Ashta lowered her graceful head to press her brow to Mim’s. His eyelashes were damp with tears but he smiled sweetly at Ashta. She raised her head to look at the Seniors seated beside Emla. ‘And so I was bonded with Mim. Mother placed some memories with Mim when she saw what had happened. She far spoke Fenj and Kadi, and they told her it was meant to be so.

‘When I was able to fly strongly enough, Mother sent us to the Sun Treasury, to Seela. That is where we met Tika and Farn. At the Gathering Place of the Sun Treasury there is a hidden cave that Seela showed to us. Tika came, but she refused to allow Farn to enter with us.’ Ashta’s eyes paled and had a slightly unfocused look.

Mim shook her arm and explained to Emla: ‘There was a great pile of sparkling things. This person had to find an ornament and a short knife amongst these treasures.’ He held up a white gold and amber pendant, the twin to Tika’s yellow gold one, and the knife he had at his belt. ‘Tika said she found the Dragons become fascinated with sparkling things, which they collect. They even forget time so days go past while they look at their collection. Seela did not come in with us, but it was difficult to make Ashta stop gazing at all the bright stones.’