Talsy smiled and introduced herself and Chanter. Kieran had relaxed while they talked, but when the Mujar rose to leave, he looked nervous again. Chanter paused to eye him in a puzzled manner before pushing aside the cloth. Talsy rose to follow, and Kieran climbed to his feet, clearly stiff from days of lying on the thin pallet. He banged his head on the roof, and Talsy turned to glance up at him in surprise. She and Chanter could stand in the shack, but Kieran had to hunch over, and rubbed the back of his head.
Outside, he towered over them, at least six inches taller than Chanter and dwarfing Talsy and Sheera. The old woman studied him as he stood blinking in the sunlight, then turned to Talsy.
'Is he chosen?'
'Yes.'
Kieran spotted the stew pot and helped himself to a bowl, sitting on one of the stools. Sheera picked up a bundle and held it out to Chanter.
'These are for you. Gifts from the people.'
The Mujar took the bundle and squatted to open it, pulling out a new pair of black leather leggings and a silver-studded vest. He smiled at Sheera, his eyes alight.
'Gratitude.'
Sheera blushed, and Talsy grinned. While Chanter went into the forest to change, Talsy sat by the fire and Kieran put away copious amounts of stew. Sheera explained that a shack had been made available for her, waving aside her protests that she had a tent.
'Nonsense, child, you've brought us a great gift. The least we can do is see to it that you're looked after. Will the Mujar stay with you at night?'
Talsy shook her head. 'I don't know. Sometimes he does, for he knows I don't like to be alone, but other times he leaves.'
'Well, I doubt he'll stay now that you have all of us around you.'
Talsy doubted it too, and experienced a pang of sadness. Chanter returned, clad in his new clothes, and stayed in the camp until dark, when Talsy was installed in her shack. He paced around the cramped interior before settling by the door when she lay down on the mattress.
Talsy woke alone, but, as she sat down to breakfast with Sheera and Kieran, Chanter returned in the shape of an eagle and transformed. He consumed the humble porridge hungrily, then took her arm and led her away from the camp. In the forest's quiet, he perched on a log and looked up at her.
'You have a job to do.'
Talsy settled on the ground at his feet. 'I do?'
He nodded. 'You must tell these people to find, or build a ship in which to travel to the western continent.'
'Why?'
'We have to get to the gathering.'
'What's that?'
'You'll see,” Chanter said. “We'll need a big ship to carry a hundred and fifty people, although by the time we leave, there may be more or less.'
'Why are you being so mysterious?'
He smiled. 'I don't have all the answers; I just know we must go.'
Talsy toyed with a leaf skeleton. 'To build a ship, we'll need wood, and that means felling trees. Also, it will take time.'
'I know. Last night I went to the harbour up the coast, but there are no big ships there. I'll search further afield, but I'll be gone awhile. If we have to build one, I'll speak to the Kuran of this forest, and she will give me trees.'
She glanced around at the sun-dappled forest. 'There's a Kuran here?'
'Yes, but she's not angry like the one near Jishan. Truemen have only taken a few of her trees.'
'How long will you be gone?'
'A few days,' he said. 'You'll be safe with these people. They have no reason to harm you.'
'So what must I tell them?'
'That they must gather the things they'll need to build a ship, other than wood. Canvas, rope, whatever. It will be needed to repair any ship I find, anyway.'
He rose to his feet, and impulsively she hugged him. He patted her back until she released him and stepped back to gaze into his eyes.
'Don't be long.'
Chanter smiled and walked away to spring into the air. With a rush of wind he vanished, and a daltar eagle rose into the sky on powerful wing strokes.
When Talsy told Sheera of Chanter's plans, she called a meeting of her peers, and the word soon spread. Talsy missed Chanter, and several times caught Kieran’s dark gaze upon her, which she found unnerving. The following day, a party of men went to the ruined town up the coast and returned with rope and canvas, copper nails and tar.
Nobody objected to the Mujar's plans, and the chosen set to work making sails and rigging. Kieran went hunting and brought Sheera a buck for her stew pot, then vanished the next day. The old seeress told Talsy that he had gone to find his sword. She was glad to escape his eyes, which seemed to dwell on her far too often, and spent her time making sails with the other women.
Chapter Fifteen
Talsy glanced up from the sail she sewed as Kieran sauntered into the camp with a long sword strapped to his hip. It complemented his black shirt, over which he now wore a sturdy leather jacket armoured with strips and studs of metal and lined with fur. Studded wristbands encircled his arms, and oddments of armour were tied here and there with leather thongs, each guarding a vulnerable spot.
His leather trousers were scuffed at the knees and seat, and a short cloak of strong black material, lined with crimson silk, hung from his broad shoulders. The outfit looked like it might have once been a soldier’s uniform that had been patched and added to over the years. He walked with more confidence, but his guilt at his failure to protect his people haunted his eyes afresh. Four days had passed since he had left to search for his weapon, and he looked tired, which made her think that the battleground must be quite far away. He went straight to Sheera's hut for a plate of stew, then vanished inside, presumably to sleep.
Two days later, six brawny men wandered into the camp. Although welcomed as chosen, they looked like a rough lot to Talsy, unshaven and dirty, carrying rusty swords and knives. They pitched ragged tents on the camp's outskirts and settled in, watching the young girls with lustful leers and the occasional coarse remark. Talsy sensed trouble brewing when they took wine skins from their packs.
As the strangers drank, they grew more sullen and beady-eyed, their coarse remarks becoming offensive. In response, the chosen found tasks that took them well away from the noisome group and their obnoxious comments. Talsy retreated to the beach with most of the women to aid with the sail making. Late in the afternoon, while she sat with several women and cursed Kieran scrutiny, which lingered upon her every so often, a piercing scream shattered the camp's peace.
Talsy leapt up and raced towards the sound, drawing her knife. The scream came from the outsiders' camp, where three of the men toyed with a young girl, laughing as they pulled at her clothes. Talsy attacked the nearest man, slicing his arm. He roared and turned on her, his grimy face mottled with rage. A backhand blow sent her sprawling with a surprised grunt, and he came after her, his expression murderous. A black sword blade brought him up short, and he stumbled back, his incredulous gaze meeting Kieran’s lofty glower. The girl still struggled with the other two louts, and Talsy went after them.
Her knife gashed one man's chest, forcing him to release the girl, who wrenched free of the last thug and fled. Talsy brandished the knife at them.
'You're not chosen. You're imposters! Get out of our camp, right now!'
'We just wanted a bit of fun,' one man said. 'We meant no harm.'
