Valorian (16 page)

Valorian didn't make that mistake again. Over the next few days, while his family hunted for food, cared for the livestock, and waited for the Birthright, he went to the mountain to practice his magic. He let his imagination help him and tried whatever came to mind. He learned many things about the natural power, including its limitations. He found that he could not create life or something out of nothing. He could alter forms or images, move objects, and shape the magic into the deadly blue blasts and protective shields, but he couldn't conjure something out of thin air or give life to something inanimate. He also discovered that he had to be very careful not to overextend his power. If he became too weak to command the magic exactly as he willed, it could turn on him and destroy him. He realized from his mistake with the shield that if he hadn't had the strength to bring the magic back under control, he would have died in the release of unspent energy.

Late one evening, ten days after he had begun his self training, he rode home to Kierla. With a mischievous grin, he borrowed one of her wooden bowls, and before her mystified eyes, he filled it ful of small rocks. He covered the rocks with a scrap of cloth, closed his eyes, and murmured something to himself. After a moment, he whisked off the cloth and presented the bowl to Kierla. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes popped. The bowl was full of her favorite black grapes.

"I've worked an afternoon on that spell," he said, his pride shining on his face. "What do you think?"

She tasted one. "It's delicious!" she gasped. "Can you do that again?"

He nodded.

"Into anything?"

"Anything I can visualize."

Her wide-mouthed smile burst open like a flower. "We won't ever have to worry about starving now!" she cried. She grabbed the bowl of grapes and raced off to share them with the rest of the family.

Pleased at her reaction, Valorian followed and spent the rest of the evening transforming mounds of rocks into all the grapes the family could eat.

The family's pride and awe in Valorian doubled after that night. Unfortunately, so did their demands on his time. Nearly everyone besieged him with requests for his magic until he wore himself into exhaustion trying to help.

Finally Kierla gathered the family members and made them promise to save their requests for emergencies. Valorian, for his part, explained exactly what he could and could not do and described the consequences if he let his power get out of control. His talent was still limited, he told them, and he didn't want to overextend himself.

He looked around at the circle of faces, at the children, at the old people, at his and Kierla's aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, in-laws, and friends--at all the people who were dear to him—and he made them the promise he had been thinking about since the murder of Sergius.

"I vow to you," he said loudly so everyone could plainly hear, "that I will never use my power against the people of this Clan, nor will I use the killing blasts against our enemies."

A murmur of surprise arose, and Valorian held up his hand for quiet.

"I believe this ability to wield magic was given to me for a good purpose. I will not abuse it! It is not for wanton destruction and murder."

"What about self-defense?" Aiden cal ed out.

Drawing his sword, Valorian hefted it so they could al see the blackened blade. "If I cannot defend myself against mere Tarns, I am not worthy of Amara's trust."

His relatives cheered, and after that evening, their requests for his magic virtually stopped. Valorian was a man of his word, and no one wanted to incur his wrath.

Several nights later the entire camp was awakened by Mother Willa's joyful cry. The last foal had been born alive and well, and now the family could get ready for the Birthright celebration. For two days, the men and women hunted and gathered food for the feast and made the necessary preparations for the religious ceremonies.

The Birthright was an important celebration in the' lives of the clanspeople. It was their gift of gratitude to the goddess Amara for all her blessings, and a supplication to her for the continued fertility and wel --being of the animals and people for the coming year. Hoping to take advantage of Amara's attention, most betrothed couples were joined during the Birthright, and pregnant women were blessed.

The ceremony itself occurred at dawn beside a running stream. Water was a symbol of fertility and the never ending flow of life, and it played a major role in the rites. Men, women, and children gathered at first light to the beat of a solitary drum, then proceeded with chanting and songs to the bank of a nearby creek. There the priestess of Amara began her ritual of prayers to the goddess as the sun slowly lifted from behind the mountains.

When the great orb crested the peaks and sent its light pouring onto the meadow, the clanspeople cheered wildly. They made their offerings of milk and flowers and honey into the water, which they believed the stream would carry to the goddess. Next an unblemished lamb was brought forth. Amid the prayers of the people, the priestess drowned the lamb and slit its throat to let its life's blood flow on the waters. Its smal body would .be roasted and the sacred flesh given to the newly wedded couples to ensure the success of their marriage beds.

When the rites of thanksgiving were over, two betrothed couples came forth to be joined. Valorian watched with pleasure as Aiden and Linna took their vows. He wished Adala could have been there to see the joy on their faces. He thought his mother would have liked Linna. Linna was a strong woman who would stand up to Aiden's wil ful charm, and he obviously adored her.

Mother Willa stepped forward after the joining to call the names of the pregnant women to come forward to be blessed. Five women left the onlookers and came to kneel before the priestess. When Kierla went proudly to join the others, her face was radiant with joy. She didn't see the stunned looks on the faces of her people or the eyes that swiveled from her to her husband.

"Praise to Amara!" an aunt cried, and the shout was taken up by everyone.

By the time the day's religious celebrations were over, the afternoon was wel advanced and the clanspeople were ready to eat. The food was brought forth in great abundance to represent the bounty the people hoped for in the year to come. They feasted and danced late into the night to the music of pipes and drums, until even the strongest young men and women were happily exhausted.

The celebration of birth was now over. Summer was working its way into the mountains with its hot days and short nights, and the season of nurturing was about to begin. The sleepy clanspeople rose at dawn, gathered their herds, and broke camp. In the cycle of life they had fol owed for generations on the lowlands, they would spend the summer visiting other families and moving their herds from pasture to pasture to fatten them for the winter to come.

Valorian watched from Hunnul's back as the carts and horses began to leave Black Rock to take the trail to the west. He was planning to visit the camp of his friend Gylden, who had long been receptive to the idea of abandoning Chadar. If all went well this summer, they would never again need to seek this high pasture. Valorian took a last look around at the meadow that had served them well, then he kneed Hunnul into a trot and, without a backward glance, left Black Rock behind.

"Our lady goddess stood before me and raised her arms," Valorian said to the listening crowd. He copied the gesture for emphasis. "She cried, 'By the power of the lightning that brought you here, I name you magic-wielder!' At that moment, she threw a bolt of lightning directly at my chest."

The crowd
oohed
with excitement.

Pausing, Valorian looked all around at the large circle of spellbound faces. They were sitting in a natural amphitheater near the camp of his friend Gylden. Valorian's family had arrived three days before to a happy welcome, and already there had been one betrothal, two fights, some trading, and countless horse races—a typical visit for clanspeople.

What had not been typical was Valorian's tale. He had told it once already, and Gylden's family had enjoyed it so much they had besieged him to tell it again. Valorian knew not many of his listeners believed the story was true, and he could understand how they felt. The tale was rather incredible! So he intended to tel it as often as he had to until the entire Clan believed. That evening, though, he had a surprise for his audience.

"The bolt didn't hurt," he continued. "Instead, it tingled and warmed and strengthened every part of me. I saw a blue aura covering me like a cloak, and I asked, 'What is it?' Lady Amara told me that I now had the power to wield magic."

Murmuring voices filled the bowl, and Valorian smiled at their disbelief. " 'Magic,' I said. 'There is no such thing,' but the goddess explained that there is an ancient power of ' magic in al the world around us and that I now had the ability to use that power. 'The magic is here, clansman. Concentrate,' she said to me. So I closed my eyes, focused my wil on this strange power I felt and. . ."

Valorian lifted his hand to the darkening sky and formed a bright blue bolt that shot up into the night sky. The crowd gasped and cried out. Some leaped to their feet, but Valorian had them so captivated with his story that, as he pushed on with the narrative, the people slowly subsided back into their seats.

He told them everything he had the night before of his journey to Ealgoden and the caverns of Gormoth, except this time he continued to use his magic to bring the story to life. Out of the smoke of the torches, he brought the images of the Harbingers and the mighty peak of Ealgoden he showed his people the field of grass in the realm of the dead and the souls who came to greet him. He even heard several exclamations from the crowd when some of the dead faces were recognized. Step by step he led the audience up the side of the mountain and into Gormoth to face the gorthlings. At the sight of the hideous, wizened creatures, some of the women screamed, and even the men looked horrified.

With wide eyes they watched as Valorian fought off the beasts with his magic, passed the lava river, and captured the little gorthling. He repeated each spell he had used to show his watchers how the magic worked and how he had finally attained the cavern of the whirlwind and rescued Amara's crown.

Then he told of the four deities and how Amara had returned him to life with his power intact.

Knowing he had the rapt attention of his people, he went on to explain his vision of a new life for the Clan and why he felt it was the wil of the gods that the clanspeople leave Chadar to find the Ramtharin Plains. He formed an image of a wide landscape of grass and rivers and horses running free, then he slowly let it fade. A profound silence fil ed the bowl.

After several long moments, Gylden stood and asked, "How far is this Wolfeared Pass?"

Like a bee nest hitting the earth, the silence burst with a swarm of questions from every quarter.

"You mean we have to leave Chadar?" a woman cried.

"But what about our herds and the other families?" someone else wanted to know.

"Are you sure the Tarns have left the Ramtharin Plains?"

An older man asked, "What makes you think we can do better there?"

"Why should we leave," another man demanded. "You have this power from Amara. Make the Tarns leave!"

"What does Lord Fearral say about this?" Gylden's father shouted over the noise.

The questions buzzed around Valorian, and he tried to answer them all as honestly as he could. By the time the people had subsided into a thoughtful silence, the night was quite late. In ones and twos, they stood and made their way back to camp. .

Valorian watched them go. He wasn't disturbed by their vociferous reaction, because he knew he had shaken them deeply. Even his own family had been impressed. He could only wait now to see if the seeds he had planted would take root.

* * * * *

"Valorian, I have heard some fabulous tales in the past, but I have never heard one to top the story you told last night."

Valorian glanced at his friend Gylden, cantering his horse beside Hunnul, then looked back at the three hunting dogs coursing through the grass ahead. He kept his expression unreadable as he asked,

"What did you think of my 'fabulous' tale?" Gylden was one of his few good friends, and his opinion meant a great deal.

Gylden's eyes crinkled with merriment. "Either you have one fantastic imagination, or the goddess holds you in her favor. I'm choosing the goddess. It's probably safer."

The two men were out hunting together in the early hours. They had decided to go alone, with only the dogs and the horses, so they could talk freely. The morning was partly cloudy and cool, with the hint of rain to come. Valorian was glad to be away from the crowded camps and the curious people for a time.

"What about the rest of your family?" he asked.

Named for his bright gold hair, Gylden pul ed thoughtful y on his long mustache. He was a handsome man, or so Kierla liked to say, a hand shorter than Valorian and broader in the chest, with small hands and a ready smile. "I'd follow you in a moment," he replied. "You know that. But my father respects Lord Fearral and won't budge without his orders. As for the rest of my family, well, my mother is ready to pack now, my brother wants to know more about the Ramtharin Plains, and my cousin doesn't know what to think. I imagine the rest of the family, and probably the rest of the Clan, will have the same mixed reactions. You've dropped a big, live snake in our laps, Valorian. This may take time."

"We don't have much time. I was hoping to cross Wolfeared Pass by autumn."

"There's little chance of that. Spring thaw is probably the earliest you'll get this Clan to make a decision."

Valorian said nothing, although a pan of him had to reluctantly agree. It would be much safer to get the Clan out of Chadar before winter snows blocked the pass or General Tyrranis got wind of their intentions, but he was beginning to see that uniting the families and getting them to Wolfeared Pass before autumn would be extremely difficult. The only advantage he could see with spending one more winter in the Bloodiron Hil s was that the Clan could cross the pass in the spring and have the summer to find a place to live on the plains.
If
they could keep this secret from the Tarns.