[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Thorn & Surinen

Thorn was troubled when he left the tent, striding through the night to see if the guards had discovered any new signs in the deep darkness. Troubled that Ayar showed no signs of improvement from the many tinctures and infusions that his sister had continued to send, troubled that Surinen had not yet returned, and that in continually tending to her mother, he was doubly concerned that Narika had not allowed herself the rest she needed to meet the demands of either mother or clan. And though he had tried many times he could not persuade her to do otherwise. Still she sat close by Ayar in the dimness, through the weary and bleak hours of the evening.

So it had been when Thorn left them, but now in the pitch black of night, a scream was heard across the camp and the heavy beat of an eagle wings circling low over the encampment once, twice, three times, shrieking all the while before leading those to responded quickly to the well known tent that lay at its hub. There were only very few in the clan who knew the eagle’s ways intimately. And this bird, this voice Thorn knew well. Together they had winged many hours above the desert, enjoying the thermals of the mountains, gliding over the cliffs in their less burdened days. But now her cry invoked a surge of fury within him.

Without taking his leave, and without biding the guards to follow, Thorn sprang into motion at that sound, his taut nerves rebounding as he anticipated the worst. Running across the packed sand, without stopping he grabbed the first lance he came to, holding it poised over his shoulder in warning for all to see as he ran for the leader’s tent. His heart pounding by the time he finally cast it aside, and drawing his sword threw back the tent flap intending to pierce the first stranger he found there, pinning him to the ground he stood upon. Poising himself to strike down this intruder, Thorn noticed movement behind the elderly man he was met with. Ayar was struggling to raise herself up upon her elbows.

“Wait!” she said in a commanding voice. “Do not harm him, He is a friend….”

Thorn hesitated, wanting to obey the direction of his leader, but questioning her presence of mind. She might not know of what she spoke, and a delay might prove costly. But then this stranger made no attempt to defend himself or escape. Thorn slowly lowered his sword seeing that the guards had followed him into the tent.

From behind him he heard a familiar voice saying “I’ll be a Billy-goat’s uncle if you don’t hear it…but isn’t the old guy’s hair chirping?” Indeed the old man did appear to be chirping somehow. But Thorn did not allow himself to be distracted, amusing as it was.

"Who are you, old man? And what is your business with us, that you should enter unannounced and unaccompanied?" Thorn shouted sharply. "It is late and do you not see there is great sickness in this tent? Why have you not approached those outside, instead of troubling the ill and the sleeping?" Pausing expectantly, Thorn waited for some plausible explanation, but the elderly man gave none, and only rubbed his jaw carefully as if lost in thought behind the bright blue eyes that had stared at this fierce show, considering what might be done. After a few long moments, Thorn grew impatient and demanded again, "What are you doing in our camp? Should I know you?"

"That is the question," the old man finally sighed leaning heavily on his staff as he glanced from Thorn to Ayar and back again, waving absently at an insect that could be seen for a moment apparently intent upon the old man’s ear. Thorn didn't know what to make of this old man…this tall, albeit bent, foreigner -no doubt a grandfather many times over - who stood before him. He had as much of a threatening air as a child who accidentally spills a jar of water and stares at those who would reprimand him not guessing the seriousness of it.

But seeing now that Ayar was still awake and had managed now to sit up weakly in her bed, Thorn softened. "Which is the question? I have asked you many questions!"

"The question? 'Why am I here?' That is the question. To help… I've come to try and help her ", he said gesturing toward the bed were Ayar was seated among her cushions intently watching the proceedings. “Surely, she needs help? Is it not so?"

“Yes, this is so.” Nodding subtly toward the leather pouch the old man carried, Thorn changed his line of questioning, "But what have you done? What tonic have you given her that she is now awake and relieved in her illness?” But even before these words had left his mouth, Thorn heard someone hailing him from outside the tent, and turning, he saw that many tanned faces where now peering in the tent opening, jostling one another for a better view. And through these as well as the ring of those armed, quickly pushed a wiry man with curling black hair. Once perceiving the stranger so close to his leader, this maenwaith slowed in his purpose, growing wary, with rapidly changing expression.

“What is it Surinen?” Thorn heard Narika ask as she followed him into the tent working her way through the throng to her mother’s side. Surinen looked the stranger up and down, reluctant to answer.

“It is alright, you may speak,” Thorn encouraged his friend, watching Narika to see if she appeared to be hurt.

“We have found a camp site outside our borders.”

“Are there others to be found aside this one that we have here?” Thorn asked.

“No, we have found no one else,” the outrider replied slowing walking up to the old man who was chirping very loudly at this point. Surinen sniffed the air, his eyes widening as a smile returned to his face. He bowed slightly to the old man. “But there is one other we have not seen, or so it would appear,” he said over his shoulder to Thorn. “Excuse me grandfather, but I think you carry an acquaintance of my mine.” Slowly reaching out to pluck the cricket from his hair, the old man blocked him quickly with his staff. “That is alright, I can see you are acquainted as well. I will speak from here if it is all right…. Rôg? ” He said peering at the old man’s shoulder. “Rôg, I think that I have finally found your camel if you have indeed lost it. It is outside the tent just now.”

The scruffy old man shook out his arm, as if it has gone quite stiff, and looking up toward the smoke hole and the stars beyond, he took a slow deep breath. Surinen stepped back a pace, “I am sorry grandfather. I do not mean to crowd you. It is stuffy in here.”

But Thorn turned back to those gathered at the door, addressing them in the clan's dialect, saying, "We have two strangers in our midst tonight. And they shall be staying with us until such time we decide they are free to go. If they or any other is found drifting though the camp, they are to be dealt with strictly." Then speaking again to the elderly man he said, "I have told these people that you are not to leave or wander until such a time when we decide to let you. Do you understand this? It is for your safety as well as ours, for we are suffering the ill favor of some that would sorely harm us, and we cannot be overly careful."

The old man nodded, not meeting Thorn’s eyes, but looking to where the upturned pot of incense had smoldered and small yet lively flame grew dancing upon the edge of the grass mat.