Time of the Eagle (35 page)

Ishtok stood there in the porch, leaning on a pillar, waiting. His back was to me, and I did not recognize him at first, for he wore a green Navoran tunic over narrow white trousers, and a wide leather belt studded with jewels. His gleaming blue-black
hair curled over his collar. Hearing me, he turned around. For long moments we looked at each other.

I went out and stood in front of him, close, and touched my hand to my chest, and then laid it on his breast. I could feel the beating of his heart. “My heart and yours are in harmony,” I said.

He covered my hand with his own, holding it there. He smelled of flowers and smoke, and he looked excellent and fine. Lifting his other hand, he stroked my face, his touch full of tenderness. Suddenly he gave a low, hoarse cry, and kissed me. Long, long, we kissed, until someone whistled behind me, and then there were other whistles, and hoots, and cheers. The kiss finished to a burst of applause, and, still in Ishtok's arms, I turned around. About fifteen soldiers and warriors stood in the entranceway, leaning on their crutches or on one another, watching us.

“Well, it looks like we're about to lose our favorite healer,” said one of the soldiers to his companions, with a wide smile. “Guess we can all throw away our crutches now, and confess we've been well for days, and trot off home.”

They all laughed, and I took Ishtok's hand and introduced him to everyone. They all welcomed him, then went back inside. Only a Hena boy stayed, and I realized he knew Ishtok well, for they hugged, glad to see each other.

“Have my people gone home without me?” the boy asked, and Ishtok shook his head. “Some of your people, and some of mine, have stayed on the Shinali land, to wait for you injured ones. They wanted to come and see you but were told there was
a fever here, and they could not. But never fear; they won't leave without you.”

Rhain came to the porch, and I introduced Ishtok to him. As he shook Ishtok's hand the Navoran way, Rhain said to me, “Well, I guess we'll just have to struggle on without you now, Avala.”

“I'll go only when I'm not needed here,” I said.

“We'll never stop needing healers like you,” he said, with a smile. “Go to your own people, Avala, with our blessing. You have done over and above all that we could have asked. But say good-bye to everyone before you leave.”

So I did, and Ishtok came with me, shaking hands, talking with Hena and Igaal people he knew, waiting while I embraced people and said my good-byes. I had not realized how fond I had become of these ones I had healed, who had been a part of the whole great healing of Navora. Lastly, I said farewell to Santoshi and told her she would be well looked after, until she was strong enough to be taken to our people; and I thanked the surgeons, and Elanora, who had come back and worked untiringly.

Then Ishtok and I linked our fingers and, walking close, went down the white stone steps of the healing-place that had been my father's house, and left for the Shinali land, and home.

We made the journey home on Ishtok's horse, for it was more than fourteen miles to the Shinali land from the city, and I rode behind him, with my arms about his waist. It was bliss, that ride, and many times I hugged him, my cheek pressed against his back. He allowed the horse to walk, and as we passed through
the city toward the main gates we went by terraced houses with red tiled roofs and white towers splendid and shining in the sun. We went through marketplaces with their bright awnings over stalls piled with fruit and vegetables, and once Ishtok dismounted to buy some apples for us. He gave the man gold for the fruit, and when I asked where he had got it from, he said, grinning, “Your mother. She has the most amazing stash of Navoran gold. Said it was your father's.”

Laughing, munching on the apples, we went on through the Navoran streets, the horse's hooves making a tranquil clip-clop on the cobbles. The streets were peaceful, and people walking there often greeted us or waved and seemed surprised when I answered them in Navoran, wishing them peace. Sometimes we were overtaken by horses pulling fine chariots, and we drew aside as they clattered past, bounding over the stones.

“The center of the city is a high lot grand,” Ishtok told me as we went down the wide sloping street to the gates, where the houses were small and plain. “I've been there most of the time, going to the houses with messages from Embry, telling people not to be afraid and what was happening, and who to ask if they wanted information. Many of the people were afraid, thinking we'd rise up and kill them all, and take their city for ourselves. Atitheya has been busy, too, interpreting. He knows enough Navoran now to be a help. We've been living at the palace.” He turned and smiled at me over his shoulder, and added, “I've been sleeping in a Navoran bed, with slippery blankets. And I've swum in an inside lake, naked.”

“I see you've helped yourself to some Navoran clothes, too,” I said.

“Embry gave us all new clothes, since we had only the clothes we wore to battle, and most of those were stained with blood. He's got a lot of gold, too. Jaganath's. He's put someone he trusts in charge of it, so it won't be stolen or wasted. Much of it will be given to the hundreds of slaves who still remain, either to pay for their voyages to their own countries, or to set themselves up in homes and businesses here, if they wish. But he's also bought us what we need.”

“Well, the green tunic suits you,” I said. “Imagine it. Mudiwar's son, living in the palace at Navora.”

“Not anymore,” he said. “We've got a Shinali house to sleep in, tonight.”

“What's it like, our house?”

“Very big. It's the size of six of our tents put together. My father is most impressed. He and Yeshi are good friends now, and my father's given him his most valuable horse.”

“He's still here, your father?”

“Him, and one or two others.”

“Who?”

“You'll see. Your mother's at the house, too. She went there last night. And all the Shinali elders and children, who stayed in the cave in the mountains during the battle, they're there now. Everyone's home, Avala, waiting for you.”

We passed between the high city gates, broken now, and out onto the wide stone road leading up to the massive Navora Infirmary. The infirmary was gigantic, its mighty dome gleaming against the hills beyond. High towers, also domed, flanked the steps up to the vast porch. Past the infirmary was a road lined with trees, that led to another towered building, smaller, very
elegant. Then the road began winding through hills, and we passed trees and orchards and gardens where waterways glinted in the sun. We went over a bridge, then the road divided into two; it went left toward the farms and our land, and bore right past a stone with a word carved on it: C
ITADEL
. Across the hills, over the treetops, we glimpsed towers as white as milk. The sight of them tugged at my heart, and I thought of Salverion there, and Sheel Chandra, and all the others I loved, making it their home again.

The road was no longer paved but was beaten dust. As we went on we saw a cart coming toward us, drawn by four white horses. A beautiful cart it was, painted blue, and covered with white cloth marked with silver stars. Six men guarded it, one wearing a long robe of crimson.

“Delano!” I cried, almost falling off Ishtok's horse, in my excitement.

Delano and I dismounted, and hugged, laughing. “Well, what a welcome!” he said. “We're on our way to the Citadel, with the first cartload of treasures from Ravinath. Some of the books. And we've delivered something for you, to your Shinali house.”

“Thank you. Oh, it's good to see you again!” I said. Turning to Ishtok, I said, in Navoran, “This man, Delano, makes the best words in the world. Delano, this is Ishtok, the best carver among all the tribes.”

The poet and carver shook hands the Navoran way, then Delano said, “You must come and visit us at the Citadel, both of you, when we have it back in order. We'd be honored if you would bring some of your carving to show us, Ishtok. We've seen one thing of yours: the cup Avala used at Ravinath. I know many
of us would like to see more.”

We said farewells, and he went on with his treasures to his restored home, and Ishtok and I went on to ours. Not far ahead were fields of wheat, and walled pastures where cattle and sheep grazed. As we passed the farms, it was hard to believe that a place so peaceful could have seen, not many days before, the passing of thousands of warriors and soldiers. There was no sign of them now, except that the low walls to the pastures were broken in places, and some of the land was trampled where the road had been too narrow for the great throng that had passed through. We went along between fields of wheat, and then I saw it: my land, and my people at home there.

In silence, I dismounted, and took off my shoes, for this was sacred soil, bought with a dream and a prophecy, paid for with blood. Ishtok got down and walked beside me.

At first the ground was trampled, grass and churned soil made dark by blood, and as we crossed a little bridge I could see, out on the northern side of the river, dark mounds of stones where funeral fires had been. But as I walked, the land became as it was the day Ishtok and I had walked on it, so long ago, before Ravinath; across the river was the garden with its brave Shinali flag and before us was our new Shinali house.

So peaceful it was, with only its thatched roof visible above the ground, and a smoke-hole with smoke going up, blue and straight into the cloudless skies. Women washed clothes in the river, and some men were cutting up a deer. Sheep grazed farther out on the plain, but about the house hens scratched and clucked. A goat was trying to eat the thatched roof and was chased off by children. Beyond the house were herds of horses, and a large
Igaal tent, and many smaller pointed army tents painted with Hena designs. But the most wonderful dwelling of all was the Shinali house, golden on the land, not on it but within it, a part of the earth we had lived for.

In tears, choked up with joy, I took Ishtok's hand. “It's beautiful!” I said.

Then people saw us and began calling for my mother and for Yeshi.

And, oh, the ecstasy! I cannot even begin to tell of it—of the welcome they gave me, my mother, looking young again, radiant, back on the land on which she had met and loved my father, and fought for twice; and Yeshi, and my grandmother, and old Zalidas, crying in his joy, taking both my hands and kissing them, and blessing me; then there was Ramakoda, his smile fairly splitting his face, coming to give me a hug that nearly broke my ribs; and he brought his sons to meet me, twin boys ten summers old, well and fine, and freed at last from their captivity. One was the lad who had interpreted for Sheel Chandra on that great night of celebration in Navora. There was Mudiwar, trying to look dignified, making the formal Igaal welcome, then giving up and embracing me; and Chimaki, and little Kimiwe, and Chetobuh, gentle and smiling and almost healed; then the Hena came, led by Atitheya, solemn as he welcomed me the Hena way, with a kiss on each cheek and on my forehead. I met the Hena priest, Sakalendu, to whom I owed, for his prophetic dreams, the preparation of the Hena tribes for the Eagle's time, and who greeted me with honor and with warmth, as a fellow-seer. Lastly, there were the greetings from the freed slaves, people I did not know, who loved me. I was in tears by the end of it, overcome.

Then, with my mother on one side and Ishtok on the other, with all the people standing around, silent, glad, I was taken to the Shinali house. Ishtok took off his boots, but my mother and I were already barefoot. Then we went down the earthen steps into the cool dimness inside.

The interior was huge, almost an arrow flight across, beautiful; a home large enough for all my tribe. The excavated walls were lined with mats woven of flax, worked with stunning designs. Above our heads, high curving wooden beams held up the thatch, and the floor was covered with carpets from Mudiwar's people. The central fire was edged with a wide hearth of flat river-stones, on which stood silver bowls, gorgeous pottery, and jars of fine Navoran knives and spoons. Around the walls of the house, on a raised platform, were the beds, many spread with rich Navoran rugs, and colorful tasseled cushions for pillows. Wooden chests, also gifts from Mudiwar, stood at the foot of many of the beds. At the foot of one bed, not far from Yeshi's, was my wooden chest from Ravinath. And above the place where Yeshi slept, shining on the flaxen walls, were our tribe's treasures: my father's sword, and the letter from the Empress Petra.

A long time I walked around, looking, marveling, admiring. Then I went and put my arms around my mother. “So this is the dream,” I said, “the home you all wanted to return to.”

She laughed. “It was never quite this grand before,” she said. “The farmers helped us build our house, and the people of Navora sent cartloads of blankets and food and clothes, and cooking things. Mudiwar sent word to the women minding the Igaal children during the battle day, and they came, bringing the carpets and the chests. Embry sent us wonderful things from the palace,
which he said were a small compensation for what had been stolen from us, times past. We have more now than we ever had before—and peace, with it.” A sorrow came into her eyes and she added, softly, “There is only one thing missing.”

I thought of the presence that had led me in the catacombs, of the moments of rare peace and empowerment that I had known these last days; and I said, with absolute certainty, “He has not been missing, Mother.”

Ishtok and I sat by the river, our backs against a tree, and looked across the land. A night wind blew, bringing the smell of smoke from our feasting-fire. The people were still sitting about it, and the firelight made their shadows leap across the ground and dance over the low thatched roof. We could hear laugher, and snatches of pipes and songs came to us through the smoky air. Past the house, across the place where the battle had been, winked the lights of the farmhouses. Above, the stars were brilliant, and Erdelan hung low over the Citadel hills, close to the round and rising moon.