Surinen
Their work done and the well finished, Narayad and Surinen relaxed in the shelter of the small tent. It was the only manmade shape, along with the well, that could be faintly seen under that portion of the night sky, two black anomalies in a black and deserted landscape that lay quite far from the Eagle Clan's present encampment. And the outriders’ voices sounded small, lost in the vast expanse around them. Only the scrub betrayed that another form of life might exist in the dim light, under the watch of numerous stars.
It was a well-practiced habit of Ayar to send her outriders ahead, checking on the situation of the next camp, and along their route. It had been on one of these expeditions that the collapsed well had been discovered, long before their full numbers descended on this fragile place. And a fortunate practice it had proved on more than one occasion.
And while there where other places to find water, all sources must be kept in working order to sustain them as they passed though, moving in search of the subsistence for themselves and their animals. Even a well that produced a little helped to support some few of them. And there was no knowing, at anytime they might be scattered and forced to depend on these lesser-known and less dependable supplies. And so the wait began. It might take a single night; it might take several for the water to slowly find its way into their newly dug work. All they could do was wait so that they might know what to expect of it in the future.
Narayad was anxious, as he usually was during this interval. He had a keen sense for finding water, but Surinen knew his friend would not be at ease until the water was seen to be rising up the sides. He had witness the transformation several times over the years, as the water either arrived early or late, but always arrived, and his friend’s spirits rose with it.
Surinen, on the other hand, was weary as Narayad rattled on, and taking a deep breath he tried to stay awake. It would be a long night, he thought to himself as he tried to focus on what Narayad was speaking of and realized he had no idea what it might be. His thoughts had wandered once again.
Something about his sister? He was asking a question. What had he asked?
“Mirya? She is well from what my father mentioned. But I know little more than that,” he said devoid of emotion, not wishing to give Narayad the satisfaction of seeing him ruffled. It was an untidy spot in his life, this conflict between siblings, and one that didn’t show much hope of a resolution. His friend knew that. Why did he have to brooch the subject with him and not with the gossips, for wouldn’t they talk of it more readily?
Narayad began speaking again, but Surinen was far away remembering the day he had chased his sister away, a flitting lark high above the desert. Suddenly he saw a Raven flying also, chased by songbirds. It landed on the side of the new well in the afternoon sun. Surinen went to draw water for the birds, but the raven had fallen into the well, and only the songbirds remained sitting on the rim. Peering inside, there was nothing there, no bird could be seen and no water also, but looking up an eagle glided high in the air above. How strange for Narayad to have dug a dry well, he thought amidst his dreaming. “Only a little water is there,” he heard Narayad’s voice announce softly. “Soon,” he replied. “It will arrive soon.”
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