Part 12 The choice
1.Five days after his conversation with Andrag, Eagle was summoned to the palace. This time, only Allar was there.
“I do hope you found your time in our city fruitful, Path-finder.”
Eagle nodded.
“It was most pleasant, yes.”
He could not help noticing Allar always called him by title, never by name. Not that Eagle was his real name, and maybe that was why Allar refused to use it. Nonetheless, it made him a little ill at ease. As if Allar was trying to make a point – and not a particularly complimentary one. He saw the Path-finder only as one of the many resources of the City of White Marble – and not as a person. But Eagle only had to remember how back in the desert Adar had tried to treat him as more than he was, how he had stirred up his dreams and ambitions, only for them to prove a disappointment in the end. And then he was no longer offended by being called Path-finder.
The Master of the city was looking him up and down – with that thoughtful, measuring stare he used on everyone. Allar had his own ways of making people feel important. Giving his entire attention to them was one.
“I am glad you enjoyed my city. And I am glad you found your stay here useful. You will be leaving soon, of course.”
Eagle jolted at the words. Caught up as he had been in his daily study of the maps, he had half-forgotten he was not to stay in the city for ever. He had to leave and quite likely he would never pass the gates again. The inhabitants of the city certainly wished he would not, and he could not entirely blame them.
“I must go then,” he said, struggling to hide the disappointment from his voice.
“Well, not right away,” Allar said with a wry smile. “But your colleague will arrive tomorrow evening. You must leave the next morning. Where will you go, though? Have you chosen a place to have in your care? You must remember, you will no longer wander aimlessly from place to place, as you have done so far. From now on, all your journeys will have a purpose.”
Eagle could have argued that it had been the same until then. How else could he have gotten to the City of White Marble? How else did Allar think he had been able to make it so far?
In truth, he had not given much thought to where he was supposed to go after leaving the City of White Marble. He knew he did not want to return south. He did not want to stay near the city all the time, either. He would not be able to handle the proximity, when he might never be allowed inside again for as long as he lived.
Northwards, there were many scattered settlements. They were always in some kind of danger or another. The weather, the wild beasts, even the odd barbarian attack – they all made life north of the City of White Marble quite uncertain. They could use a Light-tender – a Path-finder. It was as good a place as any.
“There are great empty fields away north,” he said. “On the maps they are called the Loneliest Plains. It is a long way from there to the city.”
Allar’s face betrayed nothing. Eagle wondered if the Master of the City of White Marble had not anticipated the answer, somehow. Perhaps Eagle was not that hard to read.
“That is quite a stretch of land.”
“So was the desert,” Eagle pointed out. “It was still all in my care.”
Allar had no answer to that. If Eagle thought he was capable of managing such a large area, that was his own affair.
“So be it, then. The lands between the Loneliest Plains and the City of White Marble shall be yours to guard. Keep them safe, Path-finder.”
2.That night, Andrag took Eagle to the top of the library. There was a small balcony at the highest point of the tower. When one stood there, they could see the entire City of White Marble laid out beneath their feet. Beyond the gate was the rest of the valley, and in the distance, wooded hills and mountains that Eagle’s keen sight could make out quite clearly, even in the dark.
Out there, beyond the hills, lay his new domain. There lived the people he would be in charge of, all those that would look to him for protection and guidance, all those that needed help in the vast, unfriendly world. The task was so monumental, the responsibility so great, he found himself shivering.
His gaze turned away from the lonely hills for one last look at the city. It lay half asleep in the coming night, a few lanterns glimmering here and there. The sight gave him a pang of sadness. He wished things had been different. The City of White Marble opened its arms to anyone, no matter where they came from. Anyone, except Path-finders. For them, all gates were closed.
“I think you will make a very good Path-finder,” Andrag spoke from behind him.
Eagle jumped. He had half-forgotten Andrag. It surprised him how easily the other could read his fears.
“Have you seen many Path-finders?”
“Not really,” Andrag admitted easily. “You are actually the first. And before you say this means I know nothing about Path-finders – or Light-tenders, as you call them – I should remind you I know plenty about people in general. My job demands it. And trust me, Eagle, you will be very good at what you must do – because I know those like you cannot be otherwise.”
Had it been anyone else, Eagle would have wondered if the words were not just an attempt to make him feel better. But this was Andrag. For all his diplomatic skills while he was on the job, Andrag never beat about the bush when it came to his friends. He always told them the truth, whether it was comfortable to hear or not.
“You are a good friend, Andrag,” he said at length.
Andrag gifted him with one of his rare grins.
“I try,” he said shrugging.
He went to stand beside Eagle, looking out at the world below. Eagle wondered what he was seeing. It was not often he realised most people saw and heard things differently than he did – less keenly and more remote. It made him sad. Andrag would never discern the full patterns of falling snowflakes or recognise the ever-changing melodies of songbirds.
“We will miss you,” Andrag remarked out of the blue.
Eagle snorted.
“Will you really?” he asked pointedly.
Andrag chuckled, self-conscious.
“Well, not all of us,” he admitted. “You have endeared yourself to the inhabitants of the city, but they will still wish you stayed away from now on.”
Eagle marvelled at his daring next question, especially since he was asking someone who did not mince his words. Perhaps he wanted to see if all gates were really barred to him, if there was not maybe one place where he would be welcomed unconditionally.
“What about you?”
“I?” Andrag asked, his smile widening. “Oh, of course I will miss you. Who else would sit patiently and listen to me while I babble on and on about a girl you haven’t even seen?”
“It is good to hear others talk about their daily business when you cannot lead such a life yourself. It makes your job much easier.”
Andrag fixed him with his steady gaze, trying to read his friend’s innermost thoughts. Eagle shook his head.
“I do not regret what I am, if that is what you’re trying to find out. Don’t get me wrong. It will be hard to leave this place. But there have been many other places where leaving was just as hard. Even my own home back in the desert. It was not easy to leave it the first time, when I was sent to swear fealty to the Desert Gods – or the second time, when I betrayed the same Gods.”
Andrag was no longer looking at Eagle. His eyes were searching the outlines of the city below. His head was tilted slightly. He was listening carefully to Eagle’s words, as if to catch them and hold them forever – a memory of the last night his friend would be in the City of White Marble.
“I can understand the yearning for the empty road,” he said. “I feel it too – often enough. But I always have somewhere to return. In all my travels, I always know the City of White Marble is there, waiting for me. I always know I have a place here – somewhere I belong, completely. But you – it is different for you. You will not have such luxuries. Perhaps you never did, not even back in the desert. So – what do you do?”
Eagle stretched out his arms, as if to grasp in his hold not only the city, but also all that lay beyond, the mountains and the forests and the unseen fields – waiting for him at the end of his journey. Just like the City of White Marble waited for Andrag while he was away.
“But I do have something that belongs to me,” he told Andrag. “The City of White Marble and the Bountiful Gardens and the Merchants’ Citadel. The empty road is mine and the entire World Without is now my domain. Everywhere is home to me, Andrag.”
He noticed the faint glimmer of confusion in Andrag. He was probably trying to see things from Eagle’s point of view - as much as someone like him could understand a Path-finder.
“Who do you share this home with? You’re on your own.”
A knowing smile was playing across Eagle’s lips.
“You are wrong. I have you. And all the other people I am responsible for. I have a very big home, Andrag - and a very large family.”
Andrag was silent for a long time. His shoulders were slumped, and he was chewing his lips. Eagle could see there was something troubling him.
“I still do not think we treat you fairly,” he said at length. “You help us, and yet we bar our gates to you. I wish there was something I could do to make up for that. So, if you ever need help – if you ever need me to grant you a favour, however outlandish, do not hesitate. I will be glad to help.”
Eagle would have wanted to say Andrag was feeling guilty for no reason and there was no need for favours between them. But he understood what drove Andrag to make the offer, and he knew only one answer would make his friend feel better. He nodded, wordlessly.
“I do hope you will send for me as soon as you are near the city again,” Andrag spoke suddenly. “I will be looking forward to hearing from you as often as possible. Who knows? Maybe next time you are here I might even introduce you to Lorla.”
Eagle grinned. That was more like it. For the first time, he had a friend he was sure he would see again. There was no need to think this was their final parting.
“I would like that very much,” he said brightly.
3.The next morning Eagle walked out of the City of White Marble, certain he would never walk in again. His step was resolute, his usual demeanour during partings taking hold of him. He realised that he believed, somewhere in the dark corners of his mind, that such departures could not affect him if he pretended not to care. As long as he acted as though nothing could affect him, he was safe.
He was alone. No one came to see him off. Andrag was leaving later on an errand of his own to the Merchants’ Citadel and anyway, they had said all there was to be said the night before. Farewells became tedious when one prolonged them unnecessarily.
Allar and Adenhaas had not come to see him off, either. It was surprising, since they had the opportunity to converse with one of their other Path-finders. Didn’t they want to know what he had been up to? The Sun Priests used to always demand reports. Apparently, those of the City of White Marble and the White Order did things differently, allowing Path-finders some autonomy in their actions. Or maybe, Eagle thought wryly, it would have been too confusing for them to have two persons to address by the same title – since they refused to use names.
He passed the gates, nodding to the guards. He tried not to think about that day two weeks before when he had first arrived in the city. He had been a different person then. But Eagle was used to his lifestyle by now. He was used to how quickly things changed.
Steadily, he took the northward road, the ground climbing gently beneath his feet. He could see him on top of the hill – the other Path-finder. His future companion. He was standing there, his eyes on the city. He was straight and still as a stone pillar.
As Eagle climbed the hill, he took his time, examining his future teacher. It was three years since he had last seen someone from the desert. Usually, he tried not to think too much about this. But now he realised how much he missed his people. The sight of one filled him with melancholy, but also covered a void he had not been aware of until then.
The man was older than Eagle. His once golden hair had turned grey, as had his long beard. He did not look frail, and his eyes were clear and alert. The people of the desert were long lived and strong even at the end of their lifespan. They could not afford the luxury of becoming complacent – especially not those in the service of the Gods.
Eagle was now almost at the top of the hill. The Path-finder glanced at him, as if he had become only at that moment aware of him. He subjected the younger man to a thorough scrutiny. It made Eagle uncomfortable. It felt as if the other was displeased with what he saw or doubted Eagle’s skill as a Path-finder.
“Greetings, Sir,” he said once he was level with his future instructor. “I am pleased to meet you.”
The older man gave him another measuring stare, then nodded once.
“You must be Eagle,” he said at length. “At least, this is what Lord Allar tells me you call yourself. But that is not your given name, of course.”
Eagle remained stubbornly silent. He had broken many of the desert decrees in the past few years. But no matter what happened, there was one rule he would never break.
“I am Eagle,” he said defiantly. “And there is no other name I will use – even if I might have had another long ago.”
The other nodded. Eagle could detect a flicker of contempt in his eyes.
“Very well, then. If that is how you wish it, so be it. I am Idur. It is very much my true name. As you see, I can say it in the World Without. I have used it plenty of times, and no god has struck me down so far.”
One day, Eagle thought, he might explain to Idur that it had nothing to do with fear. It was not the desire to cling to rules he could not respect or serve Gods he despised. He was Eagle. It might have been a name he had given himself, but the name had become him. He was not Kassir. That had been in another life. Kassir had died at the borders of the desert and that was when Eagle was born. He could not call himself by his old name – it belonged to a different person.
“I suppose we had better get going,” was all he said.
Idur nodded distractedly. His eyes were on the city below, drinking in the sight one last time. When he looked at Eagle again, he was slightly dazed.
“Of course,” he said. “We should go.” He paused and looked at his new travelling companion uncertainly. “You are not turning back. You don’t seem to have any intention of having one last look at the city.”
Eagle drew a sharp breath. If there was a law he was more faithful to than that of speaking his true name, it was never turning back for one last look at the place he was leaving. He had never paused to wonder why it was so important to him. But he would never break it – not even for the sake of appearance.
“I never look back,” he said firmly, hoping Idur would leave it at that.
For a moment, he caught a brief look of sympathy on Idur’s harsh features. It vanished in a flash.
“You’re right,” Idur nodded. “Let’s go.”
They made their way down the hill as the sun rose. Eagle knew that, if he turned back, he would see the City of White Marble blushing in the dawn.
Epilogue
Fifteen years later
The short grass of the Loneliest Plains swayed in the wind of yet another autumn. They never changed, no matter how many years or centuries passed. Seasons differed from one another, and that was how one told the passing of time when one lived there. But one year was very much like the next.
Not that Eagle spent too much time in the Loneliest Plains. That was only his base, the place he returned to after particularly gruelling journeys. The small hut he had built there with the help of Idur had become a sort of home to him. At times. he realised he was rather fond of the place. Over the years, it felt like a part of him.
That evening, he stood in the Loneliest Plains, further north than he usually went and watched the sun go down. The thoughts always came to him at sunset, the memories of a life so distant, it could have been only a story someone had told him a very long time ago. He recalled the desert, with its hot sun and ever-changing dunes. He could see before his eyes the forbidding grey walls of the Temple of the Sun Gods. And there were the other lands, the Bountiful Gardens and the Border Fortress, and everything and everyone that had come after. He thought about Carys as often as he dared and wondered if she had eventually found a purpose in that desolate, stagnant land of hers.
This time, though, he closed his mind to the past and turned his eyes northwards. He remembered the sight he had spotted a few weeks before – the young boy and his barely-grown white pup. He wondered what brought them all the way to the Loneliest Plains. He would find out soon enough, though. The boy’s road would take him straight to Eagle’s hut. An empty house was tempting to someone forced to sleep under the wild skies, especially with rain coming soon. Maybe, Eagle thought, grinning broadly, maybe he would have a charge on his hands again.
He turned his back to the setting sun. As he walked down the well-known paths, he fancied he heard the cry of an Omen Bird. He snorted. No Omen Bird would go that far north, but maybe he should not be surprised he thought of them. He missed the City of White Marble. He should find a reason to go that way, one of these days.
He walked on. The stories of his past were left behind. Without knowing, he stepped into another story.
THE END
Copyright Simina Lungu 2022
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