Chapter 1: Keridven CHAPTER 1 KERIDVEN The woman who called herself Keridven stared at the Xoconai man for a long while, trying to find her breath. From afar, to one who was not Xoconai, he looked much like the others, with his distinct facial markings, but up close, the subtleties of this one''s markings looked more like a sunset, or more particularly, like an artist''s rendition of one. His nose was the brightest of reds, glowing with vitality, but the transition to the blue skin at the base of his nose was less distinct, a fading glow of soft pink, even a blend thereafter, just a thin line, that hinted of yellow or green depending on the ambient light. His rich brown hair was longer than she remembered, wavy and thick, gathering regally about his shoulders like the furred collar of an Usgar leader or the mane of a grassland lion. Most of all, though, Keri saw the sadness in his bright eyes, eyes so light an amber that they sometimes appeared almost colorless, and other times picked up the bright colors of his Xoconai facial markings to appear rich and deep and soulful. Sadness was not an expression this one often showed, and now it came as a confirmation of the news he had just delivered: Tuolonatl, the most revered warrior among the Xoconai people, had been recalled to the west, never to return to these lands of Honce on the eastern third of the continent. Keri had heard the whispers that trouble had come to that region along the Masur Delaval and that their dear friend Tuolonatl was no longer serving as city sovereign of Palmaris, but she had assumed that the woman, so revered among the Xoconai military and civilians, had left by choice. But no, Tuolonatl had been deposed from her seat and recalled to the west.
And there, so said the rumors, the great warrior, still only middle-aged, had retired. It was surprising news, but really, when Keri thought about it, her shock disappeared. Tuolonatl had been taken away because it was all unraveling. All their work, all their battles, all their compromises and diplomacy. All of it, unraveling. "Why?" she asked, though of course she knew the answer. The man, Ataquixt, shrugged. "We had a deal," she pressed.
"A treaty." " You made a deal," he reminded. "With Tuolonatl. And the deal was to try. You both knew, as did all who witnessed the covenant that day after the fall of the god Scathmizzane, that your treaty was more aspirational than predictive." "Tuolonatl wouldn''t abide by the commands of the augurs," Keri said. "Yes, and the augurs here speak directly to Scathmizzane''s greatest priests in the west." "Who forced her recall back to the west to prevent her from interfering in their plans for these eastern lands.
" Ataquixt nodded. "So it would seem. Great Tuolonatl stood on principle, but the Xoconai leaders in the west are more interested in profit and power. They see a chance for conquest over the agreed-upon compromises and they take it. They know they will win." "Because they used the good faith, even the undeserved generosity, of the people here to assemble their armies for their treachery." "Does it matter?" Ataquixt asked. "Augur Necanhu is now the city sovereign of Palmaris.
" "Augur?" she replied, rubbing her face. She didn''t know the man, but she felt as if she didn''t have to, considering his title. In Xoconai society, the augurs served as the religious leaders, while the position of city sovereign was traditionally elected, and almost always secular. In her limited experience with these fierce but physically beautiful people, that separation had proven all-important, particularly for those non-Xoconai humans who now had to share their land with the mighty people from the west. In Keri''s experience, augurs were to be feared, and not to be trusted, without exception. They were zealots, and their god, Scathmizzane, taught that they, the Xoconai alone, were true humans, with all the other peoples no more than the goblinkin, the sidhe. "Aoleyn," he began. "Don''t call me that.
" "No one can hear us," Ataquixt assured her. "It does not matter. That is a name I must forget, a name that when uttered near me must not bring from me a reaction." The Xoconai nodded. "Then. Kerid. Keridven?" "Keri," she replied. "My friends of the villages call me Keri.
" The Xoconai nodded. "Augurs serving as city sovereigns are becoming common in the eastern towns and cities," he lamented. "Alas for Honce," Keri said. "Honce? The Xoconai augurs are already whispering the name ''Quixi Tonoloya'' in their private gatherings." "Quixi," Keri breathed. The Xoconai word for "eastern." "The line between faith and governance has blurred," Ataquixt continued. "The augurs have resumed the magic of the golden mirrors on the pyramids, where the armies and the goods can be quickly transported across thousands of miles, to the great gratitude of the leaders in the west.
The military advantage of moving the macana and mundunugu warriors is overwhelming, and so the leaders of Mayorqua Tonoloya have given the augurs much more latitude and control here in the east than they had ever known back home." "Mayorqua Tonoloya," she muttered, not as a question, certainly, for she understood the Xoconai language well, and knew "Mayorqua" as their word for empire , their golden empire from sea to sea. "And because to have elected leaders here would mean that we, who are considered lesser humans, would vote," Keri remarked sourly, then added even more nastily, "We are not even human to the Xoconai." "I do not think of you and your people in that way," Ataquixt replied, and he seemed sincerely wounded--of course he was, particularly with the painful truth coming from her! She nodded and softened her expression, and reminded herself that not all the Xoconai agreed with these prejudices. Certainly not Ataquixt, who was far more worldly than almost any man she had ever met--one reason she had been so attracted to him in the first place. Still, as Ataquixt had spoken of the logistics, she couldn''t help but wince. She understood well the powers of those golden mirrors the Xoconai had planted strategically across the eastern half of the continent. They were teleportation devices, magical transports through which the Xoconai could move armies hundreds of miles in a matter of an hour.
The powers of the devices had been greatly diminished in a mighty battle halfway across the continent, and she had thought that a good thing--indeed, the only real hope she had entertained that the agreement, a sharing of the land between the Bearmen of Honce and the Xoconai peoples, might hold. For without their magic to maneuver the macana foot soldiers and the mundunugu cavalry, the Xoconai could never really secure these populated lands known as the kingdom of Honce-the-Bear, home to a proud people not without well-trained foot soldiers and heroes and magic-wielding monks. "In the eyes of the leaders of the Xoconai," Ataquixt explained, "the augurs will soon tame Quixi Tonoloya." "Tame? You mean conquer and enslave." Ataquixt didn''t answer other than to sigh, once again reminding her that he was not her enemy here. Far from it. He was Ataquixt, a ranger trained by the Touel''alfar. Ataquixt, who had betrayed that demon named Scathmizzane by throwing the spear that had finished off Scathmizzane''s dragon mount.
Ataquixt was no friend to the augurs, certainly, and he had been a true friend to Tuolonatl, the great general, the great warrior, whom Keri knew to be decent and honest and trustworthy. She studied the man then, seeking silent hints. He was thin, but no one would ever think him weak, for his golden-skinned arms were tight with muscles, and the fluidity of his movements showed years of training in the fighting arts. He was unquestionably handsome, beautiful even, with expressive eyes that could chill an enemy or warm a friend. His distinctive Xoconai markings shone with life energy, from his wide nose, which shone the color of fresh blood in the sunlight, to the wings of bright blue and shining white flowing from the base of that red nose to the top-center of his cheeks. Handsome, even pretty, but Keri reminded herself that it was all superficial, all just skin color. It occurred to her then, and certainly not for the first time, that the distinction in the naming conventions of the two peoples, Bearmen and Xoconai, was a silly thing. These were different cultures, not different beings, save the coloring of the Xoconai face, and the slightly different skin tones--differences that were not more pronounced than those of the typically pale-skinned people of northern Alpinador and the darker-skinned folk of Behren and To-gai to the south.
They were all humans, just humans, sharing hopes and dreams, joys and tragedies. Now, particularly, the woman knew that without doubt. They were all just human, and like the people of Honce-the-Bear or of Behren or Alpinador or To-gai. like the people of the tribes around the Ayamharas Plateau or even of her own Usgar tribe, the Xoconai of the west were not monolithic of thought and morality. This one, Ataquixt, she reminded herself, was a friend, truly, and more than a friend, who had proven himself more than once. "I know you don''t want that," she told him earnestly. "I want what we thought could be, not what it has become." "And what has it become?"