Storm Rising

'Oh, we know, we know; you are altogether too diffident,' said Dawnfire with a laugh. 'So come, what is it that brings you here, seeking us?'

'It is my friend Karal,' An'desha said. 'The envoy of the Shin'a'in who replaced Querna is—is causing him great despair.'

Quickly, for he had carefully rehearsed all that he wanted to say if he got the chance, he related troubles that Jarim had wrought since his arrival. Tre'valen and Dawnfire listened sympathetically, but when he had finished, their words were a disappointment.

'I am sorry, little brother, but there is nothing that we can do to help,' Tre'valen said with finality. 'I wish for your sake and for his that there was—but there is not. You and all the others involved in this sad situation will have to work your own way through this.'

'Only if it is clear—clear to Her, that is—that we must act or the consequences will be catastrophic, will we be permitted to intrude,' Dawnfire added, although her expression was sympathetic. 'I am sorry.'

An'desha sighed, but he did not bother to make any further pleas although their words disappointed him greatly. I was brought up on all of the tales of the Star-Eyed and how She sends aid only when all other courses have been exhausted. I should not be upset at this.

In fact, sometimes She did not aid at all—unless a price was paid in lives. That, too, was something he had known.

He should not have been so disappointed, but he was, and they saw it in his eyes. He thought of poor Karal, lying on that pallet, pale and too thin with trying and failing to do a job that was beyond his strength. He thought of smug Jarim, sneering at the halfbreed An'desha, radiating an unreasoning hatred whenever he looked at Karal. There was an awkward silence for a moment, then words burst from him. 'She tries Karal past his endurance, and so does his own God!' he cried. 'Is that fair?'

But Tre'valen only gazed at him steadily. 'Fair?' the Avatar repeated. 'You ask me if this is fair? And—you think that She and He are responsible for this?'

An'desha spread his hands mutely.

'Do you think that She is some sort of trainer of men, as one trains horses, heaping trial upon trial on a man to see if he shall fail, and how he bears up beneath the load?' Tre'valen asked. 'Do you think that the Sunlord is a great clerk, with His ledger, noting what is fair and unfair and making a sheet of debts and credits?'

'It has been implied—' An'desha began.

'By men,' Tre'valen said sternly. 'By men, An'desha, who would take their own narrow views of the world and squeeze the gods into those views; who would put their words in the mouths of their gods. No. They are constrained, by Their own wills, to give us the freedom to make our own choices and live or die by them. We are Their fledglings, but when the time comes to leave the nest, They cannot fly for us. The world is what we make of it, for it was given to us—as your tent is what you make of it, for it was given to you. You may keep it neat and in repair, or you may let the poles break, the hides rot. That is the truth. It is a hard truth, but truth is often hard to bear.'

An'desha flushed, feeling obscurely ashamed of his outburst.

'It is only when we have passed the bonds of this world that They may act—or when events have passed into realms where nothing men can do will mend them. Your events have come nowhere near that point.' Tre'valen finally smiled at him warmly, and An'desha flushed again, feeling as if he had been taken gently to task for something that should have been obvious.

'There are many courses that you may yet take,' Dawnfire suggested. 'Think of all the friends that you and Karal have, those who will not be swayed by a hateful man's willful blindness. I can tell you that the Healer already spreads her tale of a poor young man tried past endurance, and there are as many sympathetic ears as unsympathetic. You might think on what ears you may find.'

Well, that was true enough, and while Karal was recovering, Jarim would not have a target for his abuses.

Unless he takes me for a target—and then, I think, it is likely since he will not only have to contend with me, but with Firesong, and Firesong is a past master at making fools look as foolish as they truly are. The thought made him smile a little.

Still—it would not be easy for him to move among the people of the Valdemaran Court, defending Karal's honor and honesty. He still often felt gawky and out of place except during a crisis, when he was too busy to think or feel self-conscious.

But I am Shin'a'in. Jarim cannot deny my heritage. And I, beyond anyone here, can vouch for Karal. Did I not see him with his master, and the way the two acted with one another? Did he not bring me through my own darkness? Did he not place his life in jeopardy to protect not only his land, but those of all the Alliance? I can speak to all of this, these things that others seem to have conveniently forgotten.