He also noticed that no one – passenger and crew alike – retained their weapons. That observation was now beginning to increase his sense of unease. Had they come all this way only to fall into captivity?
He turned to Lyann.
“Are we under guard?” he asked.
“Yes, but in a very polite way,” she replied. “There’s soldiers all over the docks. These people have given us everything we need. But they won’t let anybody off the ship.”
“What about the ones who didn’t survive?” Muldure asked.
Lyann shook her head. A sad expression crossed her face.
“They took the dead off the ship,” she said.
“And what about ... him?”
“He’s in your cabin, as always,” Lyann replied. The grin was gone from her face.
“He’s alive,” she added.
Muldure said nothing more, but he was certain Lyann knew what he was thinking as he glanced in the direction of his cabin, which he had sometimes shared with her before it was taken from him.
He brought us through the storms, just as he said he would, Muldure thought. But the cost ... gods above and below, the cost ....
“He’s not alone in there,” Lyann said. “He’s getting special help from what looks to be important people.”
“What else would you expect?” Muldure said.
They exchanged a long look that combined apprehension and distaste. Then Lyann took Muldure by the arm and led him toward the other survivors, who raised cups of water and other drinks to celebrate their captain’s recovery. He gave the cabin a final glance before he joined the others.
3
It took a moment for Gebrem and Tiyana to digest what Kyroun had told them. The Fidi remained silent, waiting for the others to speak first.
“Home?” Gebrem finally repeated incredulously. “Here? How can that be? I do not understand.”
In response, Kyroun reached over to his side and pushed the Ishimbi statue closer to Gebrem.
“This item has been in my family for many generations,” he said.
Gebrem reached out to touch it, then hesitated, and looked at the Fidi.
“May I?” he asked.
Kyroun nodded.
Gebrem ran a finger across the smooth, basalt surface of the carving. It was as though he were touching a piece of his country’s history, a history that he had only recently relearned.
“Only one set of these was ever made,” the Leba mused. “Yekunu, greatest of all Matile sculptors, carved five Ishimbi replicas for a Fidi merchant lord named Hulett Jull, and he accepted Hulett Jull’s invitation to accompany him – and them – to the Fidi Lands.
“That was more than 500 years ago.”
Gebrem had uncovered that piece of information in one of the many tomes on the Fidi he had studied long into the night after the Emperor had made the strangers his responsibility. He was certain he now knew more about the newcomers than anyone else in Khambawe – especially the Emperor.
“You are right,” Kyroun said. “And this is the last of them.”
He paused before continuing.
“The forebear who passed it down to me was Yekunu,” he said.
Gebrem and Tiyana looked at him, trying to find a sign of Matile ancestry in his appearance – a hint of wideness at his nose or lips, a dark undercast to his skin. There was no such sign. But then, the passage of time had also erased most of the few strains of Fidi blood among the Matile who had such ancestry.
Kyroun was aware of their scrutiny, but he continued to talk. The dissonant effect of the sound of his speech and the meaning of his words was beginning to ease. It was beginning to seem as though he were actually speaking Matile, rather than his own language.
“After the Storm Wars left him stranded, Yekunu stayed for a time with Hulett, and he was honored in the kingdom of Fiadol,” Kyroun recounted. “But he became restless, and eventually he departed from Fiadol. Hulett Jull gave him one of the Ishimbi statuettes as a parting gift, to remind him of his lost homeland.
“For many years, Yekunu travelled across Cym Dinath, our continent, which is large enough to hold more than two of yours. His sculptures earned him both a living and a reputation that has lasted to this day. In time, though, he grew weary of wandering.
“He finally settled in Lumaron, a kingdom far to the east of Fiadol, on the edge of the Geron Shi Desert. There, he married into a clan of artisans and began a family of his own. And the Ishimbi statuette was passed from descendant to descendant to keep the memory of Yekunu’s long-lost homeland alive. My father bequeathed it to me on his deathbed.”
Gebrem and Tiyana remained silent for a moment, reflecting on what Kyroun had said thus far. They were intrigued by the saga of Yekunu, and the survival of the memory of the Matile in Kyroun’s faraway land. But there were further questions that needed to be answered.
Tiyana spoke first. Her words betrayed the lingering suspicions the stranger’s warmth toward her had only partially allayed.
“That explains why you have the Ishimbi statuette. But it does not explain why you are here.”
“Tiyana ....” Gebrem began, a tone of warning in his voice.
“She has a right to remain suspicious, Jass Gebrem,” Kyroun interjected. “So do you.”
“I am not necessarily suspicious,” Gebrem said diplomatically. “Merely ... curious.”
“Just so,” Kyroun said with a smile and a nod.
“I could spend hours – days – answering the questions both of you have,” the Fidi continued. “And, of course, I have questions of my own. But there is a better way for us to learn the answers we each seek. It is called In-Seeing. Through In-Seeing, I can show you how and why my people and I have come here. And I, in turn, can learn what has become of my distant ancestor’s homeland in the many years that have passed since he left it.”
“How do we accomplish this ‘In-Seeing’?” Gebrem asked.
“It is simple. Just hold my hands, and I will do the rest.”
Kyroun extended his hands. Gebrem took one of them without hesitation. But Tiyana held back for a moment.
She looked
