– lililia waii? '
The words he spoke made no sense to me. Nor did any of the others seem to understand him, not even Alphanderry, who held the seeds of all languages upon his fertile tongue.
'My name is Valashu Elahad,' I said, pressing my hand to my chest 'What are you called, and who are your people?'
'Kilima nisti,'the man said, shaking his head. ' Kilima nastamii .'
The shepherd, who was about my age, wore a long kirtle that seemed woven of the same white wool that covered his sheep. He was tall, almost my height, with ivory skin and a long, high nose that gave great dignity to his noble face – and a hint of fierceness, too. But there seemed nothing fierce about him. His manner was gentle, curious, welcoming. He wore no weapon on his braided and brightly colored cloth belt and his hand held nothing more threatening than his shepherd's crook. This surprised me almost as much as did his appearance. For with his thick black hair and eyes like black jade, he might have been my brother.
'Oh, my lord!' Maram said as he came up beside me. 'He looks Valari!'
My friends, gathering around the shepherd, stared at him and remarked the resemblance as well. Master Juwain said, 'There's a mystery here: a lost island upon which stands a Valari warrior who seems no warrior at all. And who doesn't speak the language that all men do.'
If he was a mystery to us, we were an even greater one to him. He approached me as one might a wild animal; he slowly extended his hand and traced his finger along the swan and seven silver stars of my surcoat. He touched the steel links of my armor, too. Finally, he tapped his fingernail against my helmet as he slowly shook his head.
' Di nisa, verlo,' he murmured. ' Kananjii wa? '
It seemed pointless, and a little rude, to continue talking with him from behind my helmet's curving steel plates. And so I took it off. The shepherd stood staring at me as if looking into a mirror for the first time.
' Di nisa, nisa,' he said again, this time more doubtfully. ' Wansai paru di nisalu? '
He turned to go among Maram and the others. He smiled at Liljana respectfully, then narrowed his eyebrows as he seemed to look for his reflection in the gleaming surface of Master Juwain's bald head. He put his finger to Alphanderry's dark curls then paused a moment as he looked at Kane. But he spent the longest time examining Atara. Everything about her seemed a marvel to him. He examined her leather armor and ran his finger along her bowstring; he touched her long blonde hair with all the reverence that Captain Kharald might have reserved for handling gold.
' Di nisa athanu,' he whispered. ' Athanasii, verlo.'
'What language is this?' Maram asked, shaking his head. 'I can't understand anything of what he says.'
'I can almost understand,' Alphanderry said. 'Almost.'
'It sounds something like ancient Ardik,' Master Juwain told us. 'But, I'm afraid, no more than a pear is like an apple.'
Kane had now lost patience, perhaps with his own ignorance most of all. He nodded at Liljana and said, 'You spoke with the Sea People, eh? Can't you speak to this man?'
All this time Liljana had been clutching her little carved whale in her hand. Now she brought this figurine to her head. The blue gelstei, I suddenly recalled, were not only the stones of mindspeaking but also quickened the powers of truthsaying and apprehending languages and dreams.
' Nomja?' the shepherd said, looking at the figurine. ' Nomja, nisami?'
A quick smile suddenly split Liljana's round face as if she were very pleased with herself. And then she opened her mouth and surprised us all by saying, ' Janomi… io di gelstei. Di blestei, di gelstei… falu.'
After that, she began speaking the shepherd's language more rapidly. She paused only to allow him to return the discourse and ask her questions. And then, with a smile that lit up her whole being, she found her tongue again and managed to keep up a continual stream of conversation. The strange words poured out of her like a waterfall. The sheep baahed at each other and the sun dipped lower in the sky as she stood there talking with the shepherd.
After a while, she took the gelstei away from her head and told us, 'He says his name is Rhysu Araiu. And his people are called the Maii.'
'And this island?' Kane asked her. 'Does it have a name as well?'
'Of course it does,' Liljana said, smiling at him. 'The Maiians call it Landaii Asawanu.'
'And what does that mean, then?' Kane asked.
'It means,' she said, 'the Island of the Swans.'
Rhysu returned to his flock then, and we followed him across the pasture, which he had told Liljana he wanted us to do. Soon we came to rather large house, built of mostly of stone and wood that had been painted a bright yellow. Rhysu called out excitedly as we approached it. The door suddenly opened, and a tall woman with hair as straight and black as Rhysu's stepped out and greeted us. She had the high nose and exquisitely sculpted face bones of many Valari. Rhysu presented her as Piliri, and said she was his wife. Three more of his household soon joined us on the lawn: a young boy named Nilu and his older sister, Bria. Oldest of all, however, perhaps even older than Kane, was Piliri's grandmother, Yakira Araiu. Despite her years, despite an ailing hip and knee, which she painfully favored, she too was a tall woman; she stood proudly on the doorstep above her family as Rhysu presented us.
That Rhysu so obviously deferred to her surprised me a little. And it surprised me even more to learn that she, not he, was the head of the Araiu family.
'Strange, isn't it,' Maram muttered, 'that he should take the name of his wife's grandmother? But then everything about this island is a little strange.'
Liljana bowed to Yakira, and stood talking with her for quite a while. And then she told us that the Maiians passed their family names from mother to daughter – and from mother to son.
'As it was in the ancient days,' she said.
She went on to say that here men did not rule their wives and daughters. No one, in truth, ruled anyone-else: no king was there on the Island of the Swans, nor duke nor master nor lord. Their most prominent personage seemed to be a woman named Lady Nimaiu, who was also called the Lady of the Lake. Yakiru suggested that Piliri should present us to her.
'She says that she would take us down to the lake herself,' Liljana explained, 'but she can't walk so far anymore.'
It seemed that the Mali had no horses to ride nor even any oxen that might pull a cart. We might have managed to carry Yakiru the few miles down to the city by the lake, but this her dignity would not permit.
Here Yakiru spoke to Piliri for a few moments. Then Liljana trans-lated her words:
'She said that Miri must tell her everything that happens there.'
'Ah, I hope nothing happens,' Maram said. 'At least nothing more eventful than us finding that which we came to find.'
And with that, Piliri took her leave of her husband and family, and we set forth, with Piliri leading the way. Soon we came to a little road that led down the valley's center.
It was paved with smooth stones cut so precisely that they showed only the narrowest of seams. Flowers of various kinds lined the sides of the road, which wound through the meadows and fields. With the soft sun providing just enough heat to warm us nicely and the many birds singing in the orchards to either side of us, it was one of the most pleasant walks I had ever made.
We stopped more than once to greet other shepherds and farmers curious as to the strange sight that we must have presented. After they had eyed my gleaming armor and studied my friends with amazement more than one of them joined us. By the time we reached the edge of the city, we made a party perhaps thirty strong. And there, from the neat little houses painted yellow, red and blue, many more of the Maii stepped out to behold us. All of them had the look of my countrymen back in Mesh.
Cries of, ' Nisa, Nisa!' sang out as Maiians emptied out of the shops and houses and lined the streets before us. As we passed, they closed in behind us and formed up into a procession of hundreds of excited men, women and children.
Piliri walking now with great dignity, led the way straight toward the temple. From this massive structure, which appeared made of marble, bells began ringing and sent their silver peals out over the city. And now it seemed the whole of the city had been alerted to our coming, for thousands of people crowded the streets. In bright
