Curious onlookers paused in their tasks as their escort marched them silently into the encampment. The one that had spoken, Aellyn still didn’t know his name, led the way down a path that wound through the camp, past tiny stalls of tantalizing roasted meats and vegetables, tanned leathers of remarkable quality, beautifully woven rugs and blankets, intricate wood carvings, and all manner of foods and crafts that could easily rival the finest wares the markets of Andrinport had to offer. Even more surprising than the trade on offer were the shopkeepers themselves, all of them the same wolf-like humanoids as their captors, with thick fur ranging from white, to gray, to shades of brown, and even deep, inky black. She thought she could gauge gender more by size and choice of clothing more than any other feature of the strange creatures, and she found herself longing to question them about who and what they were, but she was wise enough to hold her tongue.
The tents, she saw as they passed, were made of thick hides stretched over wooden frames, the outsides painted with bright symbols whose meanings she could only guess at. One symbol, however, she saw repeated again and again—a black spear silhouetted against a design that combined aspects of both the sun and the moon. This must be the symbol of their tribe, she guessed.
They came to a halt then, and Aellyn realized they’d arrived in what must be the center of the encampment. They stood before a large tent, larger than any they’d passed on their way in, and she guessed this must be some sort of gathering place for the tribe. Or the home of the tribe’s leader. Either way, they’d arrived at the destination their escort had intended for them. The one that had spoken ducked into the tent for a moment, leaving them standing there, waiting.
Aellyn desperately wanted to dismount and look around the camp. Her curiosity burned within her as if she’d swallowed a hot coal. But instead, she merely shifted uncomfortably in her saddle and waited. The movement drew the attention of the creature that held her mare’s bridle, his cold gray eyes glared up at her in challenge, daring her to test the limits of their patience. His fur was a dark gray, almost black, and streaked with white. The linens he wore were a dark blue. Aellyn caught a glint of reflected light, and noticed he had a pair of matching silver hoops threaded through one edge of one of his pointed, tufted ears that sat upon the upper side of his head like a wolf, rather than at the sides like a human. His ears were pitched forward, though they would flick back occasionally at some sound from behind them, quickly dismissed.
After a moment, the speaker emerged from the tent and spoke a few growled words to their guards in their native tongue. Almost in unison, the guards turned to their respective riders and motioned for them to dismount, which they did.
“Surrender your arms,” the speaker instructed them. “You may get them back, depending on the outcome of this meeting,” he assured them before they could offer protest. “Your mounts will be cared for.”
Without waiting for a reply, their guards began stripping them of their weapons, which were collected and carried off. Their mounts and supplies were likewise escorted away to some unseen location, leaving them to stand and watch helplessly. Aellyn exchanged an uncertain glance with Conrad, to which he merely offered a tense shrug.
“You will meet Erios, the leader of our tribe,” the speaker explained. “He will decide what is to be done with you.” He turned then and ducked back into the tent. Aellyn felt a shove at her back, and looked back to find her gray-furred guard standing behind her. Looming, more like, she thought, as he towered over her by at least a handspan. She shot a glare at him, and turned, marching forward to follow the speaker into the tent, her companions following close behind.
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The interior of the tent was dark compared to the blazing midday sunlight outside, and Aellyn had to blink several times to clear her vision. The space was larger than she would’ve guessed from the outside. The floor of the tent was strewn haphazardly with brightly colored woven rugs of the type she’d seen in the stalls on their way in. Stuffed hide pillows and cushions lined the walls, many occupied by the lounging figures of the wolf-like creatures, though their alert and watchful eyes followed Aellyn and her companions as they entered the tent belying their casual postures.
At the far end of the tent on a slightly raised dais, reclining in a large wooden chair draped in thick furs, sat the largest of the wolf-like creatures she’d thus far seen. His thick fur was white, making the intricate braids and beads woven into it stand out in stark contrast. The edges of both of his ears were lined with a collection of small golden hoops. Around his neck hung a thick golden torc peeking out from behind snowy tufts and his furred wrists bore wide golden bands. He wore a heavy black leather vest not unlike the one Aellyn wore, though tailored to his massively muscled form, and his breeches were linen dyed a rich blue hue. His golden eyes regarded them with casual disinterest, though Aellyn suspected his true feelings were anything but.
With a deep breath to bolster her courage, Aellyn marched up to stand just before the dais upon which the massive creature sat. She stood there silently, her companions standing at her back, and waited. The creature regarded her coolly, his golden eyes scanning carefully over every inch of her. His intense regard was meant, at least in part, to unnerve her, and she refused to give him the satisfaction, standing stock still and regarding him with polite disinterest. At last his eyes met hers, and the full intensity of him hit her then. His eyes bored into hers, but she refused to quail in the face of this unexpected battle of wills. Instead, she returned his gaze, unflinchingly matching his intensity with her own considerable determination. The silence stretched around them, tense and electric, until at last the creature gave a slow, deliberate blink and shifted in his chair, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was deep and resonant, a low rumble that seemed to emanate from somewhere deep within him.
“Aellyn Mistwind of Andrinport,” she replied, her tone polite and respectful. In other circumstances, she may have given a slight bow as courtesy would demand, but she sensed it would avail her of little here, and so instead she simply folded her hands behind her back.
“Grexos tells me you and your companions are bound for Goldtide,” he said, his tone conversational.
“Yes,” she said simply.
“You trespass on Kainarin land, Aellyn Mistwind,” he informed her gravely.
“You have my apologies. It was never our intention to—”
“I care little for your apologies, girl,” he interrupted. “The Eternal Spear has patrolled the borders of the Territory for centuries. Ours was the first tribe to inhabit these lands, and it is our duty to keep it free of those who would seek to claim it.” He sat back in his chair then, still eyeing her closely. “I don’t believe you or your companions have come here to stake some ill-considered claim on the plains of Kainad. I have every reason to believe it is just as you’ve said, your party is merely passing through to Goldtide and beyond.” Aellyn gave an inner sigh of relief at this pronouncement, but still she stood still, holding his gaze. “However, the Eternal Spear has not survived this long by being negligent.” He set his elbow on the arm of his great chair then, and placed his muzzle in the palm of his clawed hand, considering her thoughtfully. “You and your party will remain here in our camp, as guests, while I decide how to deal with you,” he said finally. Turning to the only other one among them to have spoken, Grexos, he said, “Find a tent for them. Feed them. Allow them to get clean and comfortable.” To Aellyn, he said, “I will send for you when I’ve made a decision.”
And with that, they were dismissed.
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They were escorted to a small tent nearby, presumably so it would be easy to keep an eye on them. They were provided with buckets of water and carved wooden wash basins, then left to their own devices with promises that food would be brought to them some time later.
The inside of the tent was lined with the now familiar woven rugs along the floor and furnished with a pair of small wooden cots with leather stretched tightly across their frames and a collection of furs spread over them. There was also a collection of stuffed cushions piled on the far side of the tent. The whole thing carried a vague musty smell, but the accommodations were clean and comfortable. Certainly better than their own meager equipment provided, Aellyn thought with a sense of irony.
She poured some water from one of the buckets into a basin and splashed some onto her face. She repeated this a couple more times, giving her face a quick scrub with her hands before sitting back on her heels, sputtering. She gave her head a quick shake, then stood, moving to the cushions at the back of the tent and sagging into them, more tired than she cared to admit. To her surprise, the cushions felt like resting on a cloud, and she found her eyes drifting closed unbidden.
“We would be wise to stay alert,” Dacyne’s voice cut through the haze that was slowly creeping over her and she opened her eyes to find the elf still standing by the entrance of the tent, her posture tense. Conrad and Daelar had each taken seats on the cots and sat facing each other across the interior of the tent. Aellyn sat up with a quiet, tired groan.
“Have you encountered the Kainarin before?” she asked.
“Briefly, on our way to Andrinport,” Dacyne replied. “Though only within the confines of Goldtide.”
“The Territory is home to many races not found elsewhere on Ezeth,” Daelar added. “The Kainarin are but one, though they all seem to share nomadic tribal traditions. It’s rare to encounter them outside the city, which they treat as a neutral waystation.”
“So it’s our dumb luck that we happened to run into them?” Aellyn asked, somewhat incredulous.
“No,” Daelar sighed. “I should have anticipated this.” He looked down at his hands then, which sat fidgeting in his lap. “The Kainarin see themselves as guardians of the Territory. I should have expected they would patrol its borders.”
“Are they likely to simply let us pass?” Conrad interrupted to ask. “We pose no threat to them or their home.”
“They may not see it that way,” Daelar responded miserably.
“We don’t really have a lot of options here,” Aellyn observed.
Before she could say more, the tent flap lifted and Grexos ducked inside. He carried a large tray bearing a joint of roasted meat, a small loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, and a waterskin. He eyed them briefly before stepping further inside and setting the tray down on one of the rugs in the center of the room.
“If you require more, a guide is just outside,” Grexos said in a low growl. To Aellyn he said, “When you’ve finished, Erios wishes to speak with you.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and left.
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Finding she had no appetite, Aellyn decided to forego the offered meal and instead followed Grexos out of the tent, leaving her companions to enjoy the repast without her. He’d been surprised to find her on his tail, almost literally, when he left the tent, but made no protest. With a grunt, he bade her follow, and escorted her back to Erios’ tent, where the chieftain awaited her return.
When she entered, she found the reclining retainers had been dismissed and the chieftain sat alone in the great tent. He reclined in his chair atop the dais, seeming as if he’d not moved since last she’d seen him. His golden eyes tracked her keenly as she approached, though he said nothing. As she drew near, she saw a modest stool had been brought forth to a place before the dais, and she gave an inward sigh of relief that she wouldn’t need to remain standing throughout the audience. Without a word, Aellyn plopped herself down on the stool and looked up to meet Erios’ eyes, and waited.
For a moment, she thought she detected amusement in his expression, though she couldn’t be sure. She still found these strange creatures difficult to read.
“Grexos has told me little save that you and your party travel through Kainad in search of lost companions,” he said after a moment.
“That is all he was told,” Aellyn replied primly.
“Then tell me more, Aellyn Mistwind,” it was more command than request, though his bearing didn’t strike her as particularly aggressive.
“What would you like to know?” she asked.
“How many were in your company when your journey began?”
She thought for a moment. “About seventeen, I think,” she said. “Myself and the three companions here with me, plus five others, and some retainers.”
“How did your party come to be separated?”
“We followed the trade road from Andrinport to Baredenn. Some of us rode ahead to secure lodgings,” she explained. “There was an attack on Baredenn shortly after the first of us arrived. I know not the purpose nor perpetrator of the attack, but the town was left in ruins. We were separated during the attack.”
“Baredenn was not your intended destination?” he asked.
“No, merely a place to rest for the night.”
“You were bound for Goldtide then?”
“Only as another resting place,” she explained. “We are bound for Nemathyr.”
The surprise on his face at this pronouncement was clear to see. “You travel far,” he said in a low growl.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Why?”
“Members of my party call Nemathyr home,” she explained. “They came to Andrinport for a wedding. They return now to their homeland, and I have family there I wish to see.”
He considered this for a moment, then said, “I’ve seen nothing to make me doubt your story, but caution has been a lesson hard learned over centuries for the Eternal Spear.” He stood then. “You and your companions will remain here until we’re able to verify your story for ourselves. You will be treated as guests, not prisoners, unless you give us cause.”
Aellyn stood as well. The chieftain’s decision did not come as a surprise, but she found it irritating just the same. “If we are to be delayed,” she said, eyeing him closely. “Would it be possible to send someone ahead to Goldtide, to see if any of our missing companions await us there?” When he made no answer, she pressed, “We would have kept to the roads and never troubled you in the first place if not for the need to seek them out.”
“You are bold, Aellyn Mistwind,” he replied dryly. “I can spare a couple scouts for your errand,” he agreed with a nod.
“Thank you,” she responded sincerely. With a slight bow, she turned and made her way out of the tent.
She found Grexos just outside the entrance to the tent, waiting to escort her back. As she left the tent, her stomach grumbled its protest at her having delayed dinner, and Grexos responded with an answering growl she took to be a laugh.
“We can stop along the way to get you something to eat,” he offered. His manner seemed almost friendly, Aellyn thought, and she wondered what could have changed.
Likely it’s simply that I left the tent alive, she thought. “Thank you,” she murmured a bit sheepishly, and they set off.
Aellyn returned to the tent a short time later with a full belly. Ducking inside the flap, she found the twins asleep on one cot and Conrad asleep on the other. She shouldn’t be surprised, she mused. None of them had gotten a decent night’s sleep in days, and a full stomach was often better than any sleeping draught to lull one into slumber. With a soft chuckle, she crossed the tent and slumped into the mound of cushions. Sleep claimed her before she even had time to remove her boots.
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