The Silence of Medair

His presence was doubtless something to do with the rahlstones. That made possibly six interested parties. Well, the rain would have washed away the physical traces of her foray through the charred circle in the woods, but there was always magic. More pursuers? She sighed, wondering if she could keep ahead of the Decians and whoever else without killing her charge.

This Ibisian was older than Ieskar had been. The Kier had been a mere twenty-one when he’d declared war on Palladium. And dying. She’d learned that on her visit to the new Athere; that he’d taken some sort of wound involved with the destruction of Sar-Ibis. He had been slowly failing all the time he’d been conquering Palladium, a fact which cast a new light on some of his comments over the marrat table. Dead by twenty-three.

Her helpless captor was nearer thirty, perhaps four years Medair’s elder, though several centuries her junior. He looked about ready to expire at her feet. The lobes of his ears caught her attention and she silently counted the number of currently empty piercings which had been made to hold the earrings Ibisians used to signify rank. The right ear of every Ibisian she had ever seen sported decoration of some sort, for ornament or to signify ranks of magecraft. The second piercing in this man’s right ear meant he was married.

It was the left ear which told her that he was an important Ibisian. There were six major gradations of rank below the current Kier and her heir. A Keriden, the lowest titled noble, would wear a single polished bloodstone; the next rank two, the next three. They were fixed to studs or dangled from silver chains according to the obscure dictates of fashion and taste. The fourth highest rank wore only one left earring, but of a stone they called tiger’s eye rather than bloodstone. Medair had never seen a tiger, but it apparently had some resemblance to the banded gold-orange and black stone she knew as charlamine. The Kier had worn a single fire opal.

There was no further system to delineate differences of rank within rank. Children, spouses, anyone who could claim nobility without currently holding a title, wore a single piece of pale green jade. They were addressed with an honorific similar to "lord", and did not strictly outrank any other wearing jade. Only the Kierash, the son of the Kier who now sat the Silver Throne, was a titled heir and Medair understood that even he would still wear only the small carved piece of jade which proclaimed him of cold blood, as it was called. Ibisians placed a great deal of emphasis on the difference between one who held noble office and those related to that person. With three piercings, it was evident this man held a title. Either Kerikath or Keridahl, depending on whether he wore tiger’s eye or bloodstone.

Fascinating as it was to be able to learn so much from an unconscious man, Medair would rather he still wore the shape of a boy. She would so much rather not have anything to do with Ibisians.

Would she have helped him, if she had found him in this form? Or left a white-skinned man to die in the ash? The Ibisians of this time had done her no harm, but it was impossible for her to divorce them from their ancestors. The idea of having to travel with a White Snake, all the way to Athere, made her sick to the stomach.

But the geas prevented her from abandoning him, and all she could do was get the journey over with. His change had made it necessary for the second horse, since it would be too cumbersome to try and ride double with an unconscious person bigger than herself. She had no wish to be dumped into every second puddle all the way to Thrence.

Manoeuvring him into a sitting position on the big grey, she wondered what people would think when they saw an unconscious Ibisian with his arms tied around his mount’s neck. Kyledra was not officially hostile to Palladium, and she could not hope to get through Thrence without someone taking an interest. She’d have to find a place to rest and hope that after another night’s sleep he’d be able to ride on his own.

Setting off at a spanking pace, she made the next town – a real town this time, not a cluster of buildings servicing surrounding farms – before dark. With a choice of two inns, she picked the one closest to the northern edge of the town, and asked the ostler and a stable boy to carry her friend upstairs, not making an attempt to explain his condition. They were not eager, and the silence which fell over the public room when he was carried through spoke its own story. Every eye was upon them as they mounted the stair. To Kyledra, Ibisians were a symbol of the threat of war.

As she had requested, there were two beds. Medair covered the Ibisian with a light blanket, and muttered a quick charm against infestation over both beds. Then she abandoned her boots, and took off the ring. And groaned.