“How
do I look, Ilax?” The man turned, tightened his belt another notch. “I’ve lost
weight over the last ten years.”
“You look fine, inam. Here, let me adjust that feather braid for you.”
The Lainz reflected in the copper bottom of a cooking pan, propped up to be a mirror, looked nervous. Every inch a ‘feather-spitter” with soft, calf-high boots, loose silk trousers, Lainz tunic in a deep green/gray with bright green sash and honour gold edging. His fingers ran along that edge. “Maybe I shouldn’t wear it, in honour of the Lainz hero in that grave out there.” He nodded his head to the twilight hillside.
“He gave his life for yours, inam. Gladly. He wouldn’t grudge you living.”
“I know. Deovar. You’re right that I should speak to Kyrus, but... I don’t know if I can do this.” His hand came up to tug at his tight-trimmed goatee that he wore in place of a veil.
Ilax smiled. “The man who could force an entire war-bird unit though ‘cliner quakes and jets of fire to confound our cavalry? The man who told General de’Molfe that he wouldn’t lie down for him, to his face? The man who fought me hand to hand more than once? That man can’t face one fourteen –“
“—fifteen in a dozen days.”
“—fifteen year old boy?” Ilax smoothed the creamy white feathers, with a scattering of black spots, cascading down his inam’s left shoulder from the elaborate braid at his temple. “Very dashing. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“No, just deserting my country.”
“I’ll smack you if you go down that road again.” The man ducked, pretending to flinch.
“All right. All right. You’d best go get him. I’ll wait here.”
**
Kyrus brushed a bit of dust and a spot of lichen off his father’s gravestone. Not the same as sweeping sand but a bit of tending that made him feel useful, made him feel he was doing the right thing.
Over the small rise, just out of site, the Milari’s Ancestor stones loomed. A nice balance honouring everybody. The sun was just down, leaving the mountain covered in early spring twilight.
“Kyrus?”Ilax called from further up the hill.
“Coming, Ilax. Where are you?”
“By the cliff, come on over.” Ilax stood by the crack in the rock where sometimes kids hid letters to the mythical old man of the mountain. It was only a few feet deep. Why was he there? Where was this teacher who was so important?
“Here I am, lad. This way.” Ilax turned and entered the crack in the cliff. What? Kyrus followed him and found a candle stub lit inside by the back wall where Ilax stood.
“You won’t like this but it’s actually a bit of ‘mandery from a Lainz Dee. An old, old making. It’s a veil that covers a door. Close your eyes, take two steps straight through it. I’ll go first.”
“Um...”
“Yes, your teacher is waiting on the other side, too. You look fine. Not to worry.”
His heart was pounding but he saw Ilax step through the wall, took a deep breath and held it. He couldn’t help closing his eyes anyway as he thought he was about to smash his nose on granite.
There was light from a brass lantern when he opened his eyes to a cavern bigger than he thought possible, inside the mountain. The light came from his right around a wall of rock. He followed it and found himself standing in front of a Lainz commander’s tent, with Ilax holding the door open for him. “He’s waiting for you.”
Kyrus stared at Ilax’s smile, anticipatory, warm. “Uncle?”
“It is for your good, lad.”
He shrugged and stepped through the door, straightened and looked at the man standing on the other side of the stove, taking in the details absently as he looked at the Lainz. He was very obviously Lainz though he didn’t have a veil. A very tall man, who...
Blue/green eyes locked on green eyes, identical in shape, separated by years... each the image of the other reflected in their skin, their cheeks, the cut of chin. The older man with beard, and scarred, a right hand braided by ropes of scar-tissue. His eyes were somewhat sad, hopeful, resolute. Anything else he felt swam hidden in their depths.
From behind Kyrus, in his frozen, unbelieving shock, he could hear Ilax step in and come next to him. “Kyrus. Meet Kyrus Talain.”
Without a thought he spun on his heel, ducked under Ilax’s hand and plunged out the door, into the cavern, around through the uncanny veil and out onto the fast dimming mountainside.
“You look fine, inam. Here, let me adjust that feather braid for you.”
The Lainz reflected in the copper bottom of a cooking pan, propped up to be a mirror, looked nervous. Every inch a ‘feather-spitter” with soft, calf-high boots, loose silk trousers, Lainz tunic in a deep green/gray with bright green sash and honour gold edging. His fingers ran along that edge. “Maybe I shouldn’t wear it, in honour of the Lainz hero in that grave out there.” He nodded his head to the twilight hillside.
“He gave his life for yours, inam. Gladly. He wouldn’t grudge you living.”
“I know. Deovar. You’re right that I should speak to Kyrus, but... I don’t know if I can do this.” His hand came up to tug at his tight-trimmed goatee that he wore in place of a veil.
Ilax smiled. “The man who could force an entire war-bird unit though ‘cliner quakes and jets of fire to confound our cavalry? The man who told General de’Molfe that he wouldn’t lie down for him, to his face? The man who fought me hand to hand more than once? That man can’t face one fourteen –“
“—fifteen in a dozen days.”
“—fifteen year old boy?” Ilax smoothed the creamy white feathers, with a scattering of black spots, cascading down his inam’s left shoulder from the elaborate braid at his temple. “Very dashing. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“No, just deserting my country.”
“I’ll smack you if you go down that road again.” The man ducked, pretending to flinch.
“All right. All right. You’d best go get him. I’ll wait here.”
**
Kyrus brushed a bit of dust and a spot of lichen off his father’s gravestone. Not the same as sweeping sand but a bit of tending that made him feel useful, made him feel he was doing the right thing.
Over the small rise, just out of site, the Milari’s Ancestor stones loomed. A nice balance honouring everybody. The sun was just down, leaving the mountain covered in early spring twilight.
“Kyrus?”Ilax called from further up the hill.
“Coming, Ilax. Where are you?”
“By the cliff, come on over.” Ilax stood by the crack in the rock where sometimes kids hid letters to the mythical old man of the mountain. It was only a few feet deep. Why was he there? Where was this teacher who was so important?
“Here I am, lad. This way.” Ilax turned and entered the crack in the cliff. What? Kyrus followed him and found a candle stub lit inside by the back wall where Ilax stood.
“You won’t like this but it’s actually a bit of ‘mandery from a Lainz Dee. An old, old making. It’s a veil that covers a door. Close your eyes, take two steps straight through it. I’ll go first.”
“Um...”
“Yes, your teacher is waiting on the other side, too. You look fine. Not to worry.”
His heart was pounding but he saw Ilax step through the wall, took a deep breath and held it. He couldn’t help closing his eyes anyway as he thought he was about to smash his nose on granite.
There was light from a brass lantern when he opened his eyes to a cavern bigger than he thought possible, inside the mountain. The light came from his right around a wall of rock. He followed it and found himself standing in front of a Lainz commander’s tent, with Ilax holding the door open for him. “He’s waiting for you.”
Kyrus stared at Ilax’s smile, anticipatory, warm. “Uncle?”
“It is for your good, lad.”
He shrugged and stepped through the door, straightened and looked at the man standing on the other side of the stove, taking in the details absently as he looked at the Lainz. He was very obviously Lainz though he didn’t have a veil. A very tall man, who...
Blue/green eyes locked on green eyes, identical in shape, separated by years... each the image of the other reflected in their skin, their cheeks, the cut of chin. The older man with beard, and scarred, a right hand braided by ropes of scar-tissue. His eyes were somewhat sad, hopeful, resolute. Anything else he felt swam hidden in their depths.
From behind Kyrus, in his frozen, unbelieving shock, he could hear Ilax step in and come next to him. “Kyrus. Meet Kyrus Talain.”
Without a thought he spun on his heel, ducked under Ilax’s hand and plunged out the door, into the cavern, around through the uncanny veil and out onto the fast dimming mountainside.
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