And not just any Shin'a'in, but the Shaman.
The grave and imposing woman was dressed in earthy yellows this evening; she smiled as she approached them, as if she sensed Kethry's apprehension. 'Peace, jel'enedra,' she said quietly, voice barely audible to the pair of them over the noise of the musicians behind her. 'That was well done.'
She seated herself on the carpeted floor beside them. 'Then -- you didn't mind my working magic?' Kethry replied, tension leaving her.
'Mind? Li'sa'eer! Anything but! Our people seldom see outClan magic. It's well to remind them that it can be benign -- '
'As well as being used to aid the slaughter of an entire Clan?' Tarma finished. 'It's well to remind them that it exists, period. It was that forgetfulness that lost Tale'sedrin.'
'Hai, you have the right of it. Jel'enedra. I sense a restlessness in you. More, I sense an unhappiness in both you and your oathkin.'
'Is it that obvious?' Kethry asked wryly. 'I'm sorry if it is.'
'Do not apologize; as I said, I sense it in your she'enedra as well.'
'Tarma?' Kethry's eyebrows rose in surprise.
'Look, I don't think this is where we should be discussing this,' Tarma said uncomfortably.
'Will you come to my tent, then, Kal'enedra; you and your oathsister?' The request was more than half command, and they felt almost compelled to follow her out of the tent, picking their way carefully among the crowded Clansfolk.
Tarma was curious to see what the Shaman's dome-shaped tent looked like within; she was vaguely disappointed to see that it differed very little from her own inside. There was the usual sleeping pad of sheepskins and closely-woven woolen blankets, the mule-boxes containing personal belongings and clothing, two oil-lamps, and bright rugs and hangings in profusion. It was only when Tarma took a closer look at the hangings that she realized that they were something out of the ordinary.
They seemed to be figured in random patterns, yet there was a sense of rhythm in the pattern -- like writing.
The Shaman seemed uncannily aware of what Tarma was thinking. 'Hai, they are a written history of our people; written in a language all their own. It is a language so concise that one hundred years of history can be contained in a single hanging.'
Tarma looked around the tent, and realized that there must be close to fifty of these hangings, layered one upon the other. But -- that meant five thousand years!
Again the Shaman seemed to sense Tarma's thoughts. 'Not so many years as you may think. Some of these deal with the history of peoples other than our own, peoples whose lives impinge upon ours. But we are not here to speak of that,' the Shaman seated herself on her pallet, allowing Kethry and Tarma to find places for themselves on her floor. 'I think the Plains grow too small for both of you, he shala?'
'There's just no real need for me here,' Kethry replied. 'My order -- well, we just can't stay where there's nothing for us to do. If some of the Clansfolk had magic gifts, or wanted to learn the magics that don't require a Gift, it would be different; I'd gladly teach them here. But no one seems interested, and frankly, I'm bored. Actually, it's a bit worse than being bored. I'm not learning anything. I'll never reach Adept status if I stay here.'
'I... don't fit here,' Tarma sighed, 'And I never thought I'd say that. Like Keth, I'd be happy to teach the children swordwork, but that would be usurping Shelana's position. I thought I could keep busy working with her, but -- '
'I venture to guess you found her scarcely more challenging than her pupils? Don't look so surprised, my child; I of all people should know what your Oath entails. Liha'irden has not had Kal'enedral in its midst for a generation, but I know what your skill is likely to be -- and how it was acquired.'
There was silence for a moment, then Tarma said wryly, 'Well, I wish you'd told me! The first time one of Them showed up, it was enough to stop my heart!'
'We were a trifle short of time to be telling you anything, even had you been in condition to hear it. So -- tell me more of your troubles.'
'I love my people, I love the Plains, but I have no purpose here. I am totally useless. I'd be of more use raising income for Tale'sedrin than I am now.'
'Ah -- you have seen the problem with raising the banner?'
