The Red-Haired Night

"Here be Dragons!"

From Chapter 17...

Her eye was drawn to the page onto which the book had opened. There, on the right-hand page was a drawing of the being she had seen in her flight from her body during the Ritual Dance of Spring. The facing page had text explaining that this was a mythical creature that had never lived. Nonetheless, Malle knew, and the Lady needed to know, that the Beast DID exist and was a threat to her and the Valley.

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The Librarian, a woman in bright, flowing robes, layers of blue, white, and gold fine cloth had come up alongside Malle, and eyed the book Malle had opened. Her voice was low and harsh, not out of anger, but because of an injury she had incurred as a young woman.

"Don't take the words of any book at face value. I have a little of the 'sight,' I can tell you about the words on the page. This beast exists, I saw it and that meeting affects me even to this day, even though it was forty years ago."

Malle looked at the woman startled. "But, you can't be more than forty now, your appearance is that of someone my age or younger."

A wry smile played on the Librarian's face. "The encounter cursed my voice, but did the opposite to my body. Because of the Smok, I age at half the rate of an unchanged woman."

"Smok? This book names the beast, Drak."

"The beasts have many names; different peoples have different legends about them. But the ones of the Eastern Mountains are not legends, I have seen one."

"I saw one on my flight during the Spring Ritual."

"I was there, I could sense your body remaining dancing, but your mind and your spirit were elsewhere for some time."

"Did I see the same beast that... that changed you?"

"No, that one, the Mages of the East slew the beast. Chaste men, they are gentle at heart."

Malle raised an eyebrow at the characterization of the Mages as 'gentle.' "Surely, they seek the destruction of the Valley?"

The Librarian shook her head. "If they are the same men, both in body and spirit and they have not been twisted by some demon, they are at heart, gentle. They are frightened of YOU, my lady.

"A woman of power had not been seen or even foretold for generations. Your emergence from the tragedy of the murders of our Lord Husband and your sons was a surprise to the universe.

"The Mages saw what the beast had done to me and healed my burns, my voice was gone and was brought back, as you hear me now. 'This one is a rogue,' they said. 'We will banish it to the netherworld.'

"I was skeptical, what mortal can banish a being to the netherworld. So, I assume they had it slain."

"So, what was it that I saw, Librarian?"

"The beast had spawned snakes, they all started as snakes, but in forty years, they became the Smok."

"Why, Librarian, were you in the Eastern Mountains?"

The Librarian lowered her eyes to the floor. There was a lengthy period of silence. Finally, she said, "In here, on Sacred Ground, in the Sacred Ground Library, you are Malle, a woman. When you leave, you are the Lady, responsible for the wellbeing of the Valley. The Powerful must, I know, make unholy alliances, distasteful personally sometimes, for the good of the People.

"I was of Goose Valley, the youngest virgin daughter of the finest of the Fine Folk of the Valley as we style ourselves."

"The Smok was not well known even there closer to the Eastern Mountains. Here, the Smok is unknown, except for lurid references of exotic beasts in forgotten books. As a youth and young lady, I was athletic, adventurous, and bookish. I tested my body and my brain, gloried in challenges, even to the point of folly.

"Goose Valley archives held forbidden books; books caged so even the Librarians had to beg for a key from the Highest of the Keepers of our Holy Ground. Permission was rarely granted. The Keepers feared especially the corruption of the young by fantastic tales and the lure of magic, especially magic misused. As is true here, the Keepers are not celibate and are not pledged to life bonds. One, especially, I knew to be susceptible to a flirtatious young woman, one who would promise much in innuendo, but reject any direct involvement.

"Though promised of future favors, I obtained the key, spending many late nights among the Forbidden. There was one tale I found after months of research that tempted my body, as well as my soul— the story of the Smok, the Smok who loved a human female!"

I disappointed the gullible Librarian, who held this not against me... even the flirtation was exciting to her.

The Librarian continued, "I spent the next season preparing my body for the trek. It was not far, a week over the plains, but the Wild Folk must be dealt with. They were not such a problem with us in Goose Valley as our Guard left them alone, they had no reason to fear us. But we did look like other tall folk, so generally they kept their distance.

"The first week I would ride the plains. I was a strong rider and a good shot, I kept myself well fed with game, thus limited the amount of gear I needed to burden my steed with. Reaching the mountains, I left my horse tethered with grain nearby. The climb was steep and difficult, but I should not be gone for more than two days and there was a small stream nearby where the generous tether rope would let my steed drink.

"The Smok was not in a cave as many had imagined, but perched, or rather supine, on a long, rocky outcrop warming in the Western sun. He, and definitely a male, as the ridges on the head were different, and the males had golden eyes, the females green. In size, they were usually equal. They were together only to mate, and they did that very infrequently. Otherwise, they led solitary lives in different areas of the mountains; the females favoring the Eastern slopes, the males in the West.

"They both dreamed of loving humans, or at least that is the tale; this, I believe," the Librarian solemnly said.

"This one hated all beings, even himself. To be fair, he warned me often on my approach first with a low growl, the gouts of smoke from his nose, finally the snorting flames from his nostrils that humiliated me. My screams pierced the consciousness of the Mages, for my screams were supernatural in strength.

"The rest you know, the Mages banished (killed) the rogue Smok and healed me to the best of their abilities, giving me a longer life in compensation for my injuries.

"I am much older than you, Malle; my adventure days are over, I live for the Library, the books, the lore. I live to pass on knowledge and the love of adventure. I dream of you often, the Power of the Valley. But I never thought I'd get this chance for you are the Lady and far above me; yet, here you are, Malle, a woman I desire."

And so, the Librarian embraced Malle standing above her as Malle sat before the book of the Smok. First their lips brushed, then Malle, her lips giving permission, received the Librarian's tongue penetrating her lips. The embrace lasted but a minute, but seared them both, recoiling, not in disgust, but in surprise as to the power of this passion.

No more words were spoken. The next day, Malle left the Holy Ground healed as a woman, time to become again the Lady.

The Lady needed to know if the Librarian was correct. Was there no threat from the Mages? Or if there was a danger in that they saw HER as a threat, and then must resolve that to safeguard their lands.

And the Smok— did those beasts pose any danger? The Librarian was harmed, only when she was in close proximity to a rogue Male. But the Fine Folk cavalry reported strange nighttime events in the steppes to the north and east of the Valley. Her personal reconnaissance with the steppe riders of Ecna and Jeremi, had revealed no Smok nor, indeed, any other intruders.

Her Spring Ritual flight of the soul had revealed the beings to her. Had her mind perceived them as danger or was her mind wrong. The Lady must go to the East. It would be a task for the Marechal Julian, but he had fled to Goose Valley? To be her enemy?

The Lady would call on a portion of the Levy. Without invasion or threat of imminent battle, the Lady could not denude the land of fighting men, who were also needed for commerce and work in the fields. A quarter of the Levy should be sufficient to take a raid into Goose Valley. After Goose Valley was secured, a new plan could be made.

The Sergeant chose the Levy to send to the Lady in the easternmost part of the Valley. He reasoned he could take most of the Levy from the West, the Lands of Ecna and Jeremi, as they were the most loyal, and their lands rich enough to withstand the temporary loss of their labor force.

The Fine Folk's cavalry would march to the North and South of the Column of Levy Infantry. Gwenyth supplied the Valley forces with enough fodder and rations for a summer campaign. If all went well, the men would return for the fall harvest.

As a joke, the men carved models of their manhood to pleasure their wives and sweethearts while they were away. This was a tradition among valley folk and some women had several of these 'replicas' as a memory of former and current lovers.

The march began on a warm summer morning, and after a day of marching in the heat, the Lady sent runners ahead to scout the route; the cavalry was kept a day's march ahead of the Levy infantry. From then on, the Levies would march at night, along a good road to Goose Valley, staying out of the heat of the day making camp before dawn and resting in the heat of the day.

Dawn broke on the seventh day. They had marched longer that night; the Levy had been marched into shape and had strode easily through the gentle night air. So, it was lighter than usual when they stopped along the roadside to make camp.

Before them, an hour's march away from Goose Valley, was a grotesque sight. A hanged man in sight of the road. Some thief, or murderer had faced the justice of Goose Valley and the corpse left out as a warning.

But this 'prisoner' was not bound and was naked, contrary to all custom. This was a suicide. The body had hung for some time, the ravens had plucked out his eyes, the flesh rotted off the bones... the Lady recognized the man she had cursed— Julian. Disgustingly and deeply painful to the Lady was the power of the spell that persisted after death, the spell of the young witch of Apple Valley... only the corpse's phallus retained flesh and rigidity.

The body was cut down and the Lady performed what rites were proper for a Marechal of the Valley. He was but flesh, he was but a man. Had he deserved to be humiliated and die thus?

Before the Levies of the Valley entered Goose Valley, the Cavalry of the Fine Folk scouted the boundaries, finding no hostile activity; instead, scattering some peaceable Wild Folk in their wake. The bulk of the Cavalry blocked the Eastern boundary of the Valley, while the youngest riders on the fastest horses scouted toward the edge of the Eastern Highlands.

The People of the Valley may not have loved the Lady; indeed, they may have feared her, but they had no stomach for a fight. The Levies entered the Valley unopposed. The Lady gave strict orders that as the Valley had not offered the Prosperous Valley Levies violence, they should be treated with respect.

Delegations of the Fine Folk of Goose Valley met with the Lady and accommodations were made. The day-to-day business of the Valley would remain in the hands of the Fine Folk, 'donations in kind' would supply the Levy of the Prosperous Valley during the summer campaign. Hostages would be taken for the future peaceful conduct of the Goose Valley. All hostages were from Fine Folk families and would be raised in the Prosperous Valley as wards of their Fine Folk.

There was no evidence of aggressive moves on the part of the Mages of the High Ground. Indeed, the people of the Goose Valley said that their routine guard patrols had not spied on any border guards of the High Ground for some months past.

The Lady rode out with her guard in armor, but with her hair tied and covered. The guard was a dead giveaway that an important person was present, but at least her hair which flashed as a signal across the open plains would be less of a target.

The Lady, her guards and scouts rode unchallenged for days. Scattered farmsteads were abandoned at their approach, the residents hiding in nearby gullies. Fowl and stored grain were used to feed the troops and horses, but payment in coins was left behind.

Up through the Western Slopes of the High Ground, abandoned lumbering operations were come upon, and some woodland grazing of pigs; however, these were not the exotic wild boar of the Western mountains but ordinary swine. At the top of the pass, the plateau of the High Ground could be seen, dotted with small farmsteads. This was poor land, nothing like the Prosperous Valley.

The Lady could see the Mages, with her far-seeing eye, ensconced in their fortress on the other side of the plateau.

They were not afraid, but also would not contest her reconnaissance. They sensed, rightly, that the Lady sought no conquest of the High Ground but was here on another mission. If they divined what that was, they gave no clue. They knew by third sight that it did not threaten them.

The Lady dismounted in the High Pass and removed her armor.

"Stay here and wait for me."

An inner compass showed her the way to go south along the east-facing slopes of the Dividing Heights.

Less than an hour from the pass, breathing heavily and sweating from the climb, the Lady saw an outcropping of granite bathed in shadows. In the shadows, were the gleams of a green eye, then two as the Smok sensed her approach.

A slight sniff of 'curiosity burning' reached the Lady; a smell like burnt cedar, comforting.

Silently, the Lady asked permission to join the female Smok on her 'balcony.' The beast shifted its bulk, leaving a platform for the Lady to sit or stand as she pleased.

The Lady sat in companionable silence with the Smok, who was a Lady in her own right.

A treaty was concluded. There was no enmity between the Lady and her people and the Smok and her kind. The treaty was to last the lifetime of both after that. Well, what of the Gods had promised us even tomorrow?

(Many thanks again to my wonderful editor: Kenji Sato)

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