Brand and Vaeol - Chapter 19

From the Daylog of Vaeol-Zheieveil u’Zhasaele Zolaemaue be’Son

12. Soelae, 24,535 - 6th Day on the Yaro, South of Hanazhyana
We are back on Father-Yaro under dry sky. When I greeted Brand, he has behaved himself. Erewardly, I had shortly wondered whether I should ban him, which would be bothersome, since I am bidden to host and ward him. My only choice would be to leave him behind. I have reckoned asking Oshis to let slip before the Aslanta’s ear that in the old days a Damaya might have a Korasha killed for misbehavior. Outstretched I acknowledge, but it may catch his mindfulness.
In other word of banship, Oshis has bother of his own. It has outcome that Sievae is bechild, but is unsure whether it may be his or not. He shuns her. I have spoken with Erymi, who tightly watches, and asked her rede of the right deed. Her shame shows eyesome, and she has shriven her manmate cannot reeve riders under such strife. So we have stood him down as a mean spear-rider, with warning that, if Sievae bears him ill will, she may well ban him when we come home to Son. In his stead, we have benamed Nae as elderspear. I feel bad for Sievae, and also for Oshis, though I may not show it. I wit his anger, and her sorrow.
I told Remaue yesternight of my feud with Brand. She soothed me down and put forth that, since he truly loves me, it would be better that I behave him with kindly strength, set clear bounds, and let him grow easy therein.

13. Soelae - 7th Day on the Yaro, South of Hanazhyana
Sad news today. We lost an Aslanta named Krandun. He was sitting on the wale and leaned overboard while we floated on a slow stretch. Anon we heard a splash, and Krandun was forgone. Straightway we rushed to the side Dark water churned while I bade the boatswain halt the flatbark. A red stain - the hue of Aslanta blood - welled upward. At once I bade the riders bring spears. We tried the water with oars in hope he might catch one, but nothing. We guess it was a river-eel swimming under the bark, who saw Krandun overleaning, and grabbed him.
All are sorrowful, and I beguilt myself. I also had begun taking this boatfare as a holiday and had let our staidness loosen. I should have warned, dolefully the Aslanta, that they should stay off the edge against the balethings that haunt the Yaro's depth.
At the troop’s mood, I bade Kaes bank early and let us ashore, where now we hold gloomy camp. I asked Brand what mourning rites they hold. At my ask he got a queer look, maybe angry. Then he answered they bury them aground. I understood the bother. For whatever it was worth, I gave the Aslanta time to mourn Krandun and make sorrow's peace. I sang a hymn for his soul and asked Burning-Mother to lead his way homeward.

From the Journal of Brand Likario

17. Neth, 4718 - 7th Day on the Yaro, 58th Day on Castrovel
Today we lost Crandyn. Something reached out of the water and grabbed him while he sat on the barge-wale. I didn’t see it, but the other men said it had jaws like a crocodile, and also tentacles. We beat the water with oars and poles, but he was gone. The Lashunta grew just as upset as we. I was, however, in no mood to accept condolences. Vaeol took it especially hard and sharpened the watch, including keeping folk off the wales. 
Now afterward, I regret my gruffness, which I alay to my outstanding ill will from her rebuff. I so realized when earlier Draxy was spreading word that the Lashunta had let Crandyn die, and, I hate to admit, I found myself agreeing. I have let my feelings sway my good judgement.
We said some words for Crandyn’s ghost after we camped, apart from the Lashunta. This alien world has claimed another fellow. I have let myself get misdrawn by the exotic bounty that has enfolded us since reaching Son. It shall not do to forget the danger.
Our camp lies within sight of two colossi that stand watch over the river southward. Explained Tae, they mark Khabarat’s border. Deeming by their hugeness, it would seem a great and mighty city.

19. Neth - 9th Day on the Yaro; Khabarat, 60th Day on Castrovel
Yesterday we floated past the colossi announcing Khabarat’s hegemony, which we had first seen last night. They proved even more impressive up close: a Damaya and Korasha each armed and helmed; she clutching a spear, and he an axe. Their bodies seemed stone, though their armor shone coppery-green. I tried to understand the building-craft and effort to set these wonders standing, but failed. It bespoke great wealth and power belonging to this new, unknown city.
I am not disappointed.
Soon afterward, tree-villages and proper towns slid by on both riverbanks, a population far greater than anything so far. I saw great bustle of trade, which again behinted this large city. Then we floated by a quay, where a troop of Shota-riders watched. They hailed us, and our barge put in. On the Damaya’s breastplates I spotted a damascened blue lozenge: a badge distinct from the silver sunburst of Son warriors. Them I presumed belonged to Khabarat.
Their leader showed as heavily armored as Lady Vaeol, who left the barge, strode onto the quay, and greeted her. The Khabarat Outrider-Knight doffed her helm and showed shining hair blue and gold, and even more unusually, a face with skin like the deep blue sea, which hue I had never seen before, even among the Lashunta’s coppers, bronzes, pinks, and greens. Soon as Vaeol and the other outrider began speech, I bewared a change. I couldn’t understand their words, but all the warriors on the barge tensed. 
Then Oshis amidships deftly opened the pen holding the Shotalashu, not that they have needed much care with the witchy mind-bond they share with their riders, which means they are better mannered than horses on so cramped a journey. Soon as they were free, the Shota crept off the barge and found their riders, who had all found weapons in hand. 
Where we waited on the prow, my gaze drifted to Lady Vaeol, who had locked eyes with the Khabarat Knight. Vaeol said something, and a gasp shuddered through both parties. The Khabarat leader’s face paled to sky-blue. She reeled, but then nodded and headed her lizard-steed off. A tumult broke out as Vaeol grabbed her spear, Remaue began saddling her knight’s Shotalashu, and the Son warriors filed off the barge, except for the crew and a guard that stayed with us.
I watched the scene unfold while not truly believing what I saw, like an informal sporting joust, though rightly it moreso took the shape of a knightly challenge out of legend. With the Khabarat and Son warriors lined on opposite sides of the makeshift lane, Lady Vaeol and the Khabarat Knight rode to the far ends while Erymi and her counterpart from Khabarat stood in the middle. With a mutual wave, the two seconds stepped back. 
Vaeol and the other knight roused their steeds. They loped like giant, drakelike cats toward each other, and the two outriders lowered spears. Yet I was watching no tournament as I had seen in the great fairs back in Taldor, Cheliax, or Andoran. These lances had no blunt tips, but war-sharpened, swordlike blades, nor were the hafts notched to break. Here two riders set to slay each other. I nearly lost my nerve when my heart tried to force a shout from my throat.
The two ladies struck with less of the shaking blow I remembered from tournaments, no crack of wooden hafts shattering, but rather a sickening scrape of steel on steel, and then the tear of blade on flesh. Lady Vaeol rode on, twisting her spear to free it. Her foe slumped, even worse because the Lashunta saddle has not only stirrups but also pegs above and behind the knee, which help them stay aseat while their deft lizard-steeds climb the trees. Yet the force to knock her loose doubtlessly wrenched her knees. The Khabarat Outrider dropped her spear, clutched her arm, and then slowly fell and dragged behind her Shota while it skidded to a halt.
Soon as she hit the ground, the rows of warriors broke. Vaeol herself rounded back, leapt from saddle, and knelt over her erstwhile foe. Her mind-witchery likely saved the other knight’s life. Yet things twisted knottily, both warrior companies glaring and twitching weapons, until the Blue Knight shakily rose to her feet. She still babied her arm but no longer bleeding. Then she bowed to Lady Vaeol, acknowledging the rosy-gold knight’s victory. The Son Lashunta did not cheer, though a wave shuddered through the company.
The Blue Knight, whose name is Lady Sem-wannay, joined us on the barge while her troop headed away on the track. We resumed fare downriver, where shortly a bend revealed shining, even iridescent walls and towers. Thus we reached Khabarat. We poled through a river gate with portcullis raised and into a huge harbor made by the river butting against a mountain's cliff, whose gated gap was joined by a stone bridge overtop. The city crawled across the peaks’ feet and climbed their flanks until an acropolis, not unlike Son, though their sizes had no comparison. In looking at the ships sailing and moored at the wharves, the countless rooves above, and then the scores of towers shining silver and green in the cloudlight, I believe this city on near scale with Absalom. I had no doubt when Vaeol had spoken of this stead as this world's greatest city.
Our barge poled the wide, almost lakelike harbor lapping the cliffs’ feet. The city’s main boroughs hugged the northern side, where lay the wharves. An impressive army of shipping, both sail-driven and galleys, lay adock or anchored off shore. There we made way, moored, and then were let off. Lady Vaeol ordered us to march, and we entered the bustling streets covered with trees, particolored awnings, and roofways.
For the most, the Khabarat Lashunta look and dress much as the Sonna, though with longer shrouds more flowing and, if anything, the silks are patterned even more elaborately. The streets, however, were far more packed, and with many great markets outlaid under the ever-present milk-trees. We learned the jewel-like sheen over so many walls comes from a decorative, shell-like covering, which greatly seemed like mother-of-pearl. We came to one of the upper neighborhoods (though still below the Acropolis), where we reached a well-sized, almost palatial house with its own stable. Here we stalled the Shota and went inside, which we learned is Son’s embassy in Khabarat. A steward gave us Humans a foursome of rooms, and offered us baths and the afternoon to rest.
Just earlier, I overlooked the city from a turret at the house’s fore, which gave me time to assess our new setting. It felt much like being back in Absolom but for the forest’s worth of trees crowning the streets and squares. It also smells better, for the Lashunta believe strongly in public sewers and moreso scrupulously clean up after their Shotalashu and other pack-drakes. A light, pepperminty smoke-haze hangs over the townscape, of the kind Lashunta favor to drive off pest bugs. I am ashamed to admit Khabarat makes Son, despite the gracious and life-saving hospitality they had given us, look like a backwoods village. 
I find myself worried for Vaeol and our other hosts, that this larger, mightier neighbor might treat them with scorn, and dare accordingly. Only after I acquainted myself with the neighborhood’s broader lines did I think of trying outside. n Elvish-speaking steward swiftly waylaid me and politely informed that we Humans are forbidden to leave the embassy. When I asked to speak with Lady Vaeol, he added that she too and all the Son Lashunta are bound to this house, by command of Khabarat’s High Matron.
My brain twisted on this news. Lady Vaeol’s little joust with the Khabarat Outrider has outcome with our arrest!