The Last of the Wilds

“Syee,” Mischief whispered at her ear.

Smothering a laugh, Auraya gave his head a scratch.

“Speaker Sirri,” she said, “this is Mischief. He’s a veez. The Somreyans tamed them long ago, and keep them as pets.”

“A veez,” Sirri said, coming forward to stare at Mischief. “Yes, I remember catching sight of this animal in the war camp.”

“They can speak, in a limited fashion.” Auraya looked at Mischief. “This is Sirri,” she told him.

“Seeree,” he replied. “Syee Seeree.”

Sirri chuckled quietly. “He is an appealing animal. I had better make sure none of the Siyee decide he will make a nice meal.” She straightened. “The Speakers have requested that I call a gathering in the Speakers’ Bower as soon as you arrived, but we could delay if you are tired.”

Auraya shook her head. “The Pentadrians travel deeper into Si every moment that passes, and I’m as anxious to deal with them as I am sure you all are. I will meet with the Speakers now.”

Sirri nodded in gratitude, then gestured to the other Speakers. As they moved forward to join Sirri, Auraya looked toward the two priests. They made the sign of the circle. She inclined her head in reply.

Seeking their minds, she saw that they were eager to talk to her, though neither had any matter they urgently needed to discuss. Though they had found the Siyee welcoming, they also felt their ways were a little strange.

They need reassurance from me that they’re doing well, she realized.

Turning away, she followed Sirri into the forest, the other Speakers and tribe representatives following. They passed many of the Siyee bowers - frames of wood with a membrane stretched between, built around the bases of the enormous trees growing around the Open - and many curious Siyee. Sirri did not hurry, despite the other Speakers’ impatience. She knew that her people would be reassured by the sight of the gods’ Chosen One.

Once they entered the unoccupied forest around the Speakers’ Bower, the Head Speaker quickened her pace. They wound through narrow paths to a large bower and filed inside. Carved tree-stump stools had been arranged in a circle. The Speakers took their places. Auraya set her pack down on the floor beside her. Mischief peered out, then decided it all looked uninteresting and curled up to sleep.

“As we all know,” Sirri began, “a Pentadrian ship was seen off the coast of southern Si fourteen days ago. Several Pentadrians landed and separated into groups, which have been travelling inland. It appears they are using their birds to guide them toward Siyee villages.” She looked at Auraya. “We sent a request for help to the White and Auraya has come back to us. Before we begin discussing how to deal with the Pentadrians, do you have any questions, Auraya?”

“How often have you received reports on the Pentadrians’ movements?”

“Every few hours. My son, Sreil, has organized for groups of watchers to follow the Pentadrians and report back regularly.”

“Have any of these watchers seen one or more of the Pentadrian sorcerer leaders among them?”

“No.”

That doesn’t mean they’re not with them. Auraya drummed her fingers together. “Have the Pentadrians harmed anyone?”

“Not yet.”

“Have they spoken to anyone?”

“No - all Siyee have been told to keep away from them.”

“Have they attempted to make a permanent settlement?”

The Speakers looked surprised. She read from their minds that none had considered the possibility.

“The watchers say they have been travelling constantly,” Speaker Dryss replied.

Auraya considered all that they had told her. “I have no more questions for now. Does anyone have questions for me?”

“Yes,” one of the representatives replied. “What will you do?”

She brought her hands together and interlocked her fingers. “Advise and assist you. I am not here to decide a course of action for you. I will protect you if they attack, and drive them out of Si - if I can - should you decide I must. I will also translate for you if they wish to communicate. It is possible they wish to make peace with you.”

The Siyee exchanged glances, many scowling.

“Never!” one of the representatives hissed.

“Do not dismiss the possibility,” one of the older Speakers told the young man. “The Pentadrians are not a people about to die out. Better we be at peace with them than not.”

“So long as we are not forced to compromise too much for it.”

“Of course not.”

“There is another possibility,” Auraya continued. “One that disturbs me. They may hope to convert Siyee to their cult.”

“They will be disappointed,” Speaker Sirri said firmly. “There is not one Siyee who does not grieve the loss of a family or tribe member. None would betray us to join the enemy.”

“I believe that is so,” Auraya replied. “If they come with such intentions, it is best all are alert to the possibility and prepared to resist sweet words of persuasion.”

“They will not have a chance to utter them,” the young representative declared. “They will go home or we will kill them.”

“We will send them home, whatever their intentions,” Sirri agreed. “Even if their purpose is peaceful, it is too soon after the war for us to welcome Pentadrians in Si.”

The other Speakers voiced their agreement.

“If that is what you mean to do,” Auraya said, “the Pentadrians need to hear it from you, not me. They need to know it is your decision and that you are not merely doing what the White tell you to do.”

Silence followed her words. She sensed their fear and reluctance.

“What if they attack us?” a Speaker said in a min voice.

“I will protect you. We will retreat and, when you are safe, I will return to drive them away.”

“Must we all go?” Speaker Dryss said. “I am not so quick with the winds these days and I fear I may hamper you if we need to retreat quickly.”

“There is no need for you to all go,” Auraya said. “Choose three from among you.”

Sirri cleared her throat. “I would prefer to ask for volunteers.”

As she glanced around the room, Auraya noticed many averted gazes. The young representative did not flinch away. Auraya felt her heart sink as he straightened in preparation to speak. He’s a bit headstrong for this.

“I’ll go,” he offered.

“Thank you, Rizzi, but this is a task for Speakers,” Sirri said. “How seriously will these Pentadrians take our words if they aren’t spoken to by tribal leaders?” She spread her hands. “I will go. If no others volunteer, I will be forced to call for nominations, or have names drawn from—”

“I will go - if I am not too old.”

The volunteer was a middle-aged Speaker, Iriz of the Green Lake tribe.

Sirri smiled. “There are many years in you yet, Speaker Iriz.”

“And I,” another Siyee woman offered. Auraya recognized the Speaker of the Sun Ridge tribe, whose members had been attacked by the Pentadrians’ trained birds months before the battle.

“Thank you, Speaker Tyzi,” Sirri said. “That makes three.”

The relief of the other Siyee washed over Auraya. She resisted a smile. Sirri slapped her knees decisively. “We will leave at first light tomorrow. Are there any other matters to raise with Auraya?” She looked around the room, but none of the Siyee spoke. “Then this gathering is over. Speakers Iriz and Tyzi, could you stay? We must discuss preparations for the journey.”

As the Siyee filed out of the room, Auraya looked down at Mischief. He was still asleep. She smiled and turned her attention to the remaining Siyee. At once she felt a twinge of apprehension. If she found herself facing one of the more powerful Pentadrian sorcerers it would not be easy to protect these Siyee. She must ensure she had a good look at the intruders before they saw her.