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by Carol Hightshoe
Fantasy, 21 pages.
Originally Published in The Martian Wave, 2008
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Andrinor stood at the top of the path, watching the sky; his hands white as he gripped the pommel of his double-bladed sword and shifted his weight several times. Prelari and Lash had been due back from the lands south of the Dragon Flame Mountains yesterday. He took a deep breath as two copper dragons appeared in the sky and forced himself to relax as they flew closer.
He bowed his head respectfully to the dragons when they landed in the clearing and two women dismounted. As soon as Lash and Prelari thanked them, the dragons took to the air once again. Despite the acceptance of their village by the dragons for many centuries and the protection granted by Ghainaess, the Great Mother of Dragons, none of Her children entered unless directed to do so by the goddess or at the personal invitation of the Matriarch.
“It is accomplished?” Andrinor looked from Prelari to Lash.
“It is,” Prelari said. “This will be my second child conceived in the outside lands. I will be free to marry after she is born.” She smiled as she laid a hand on his arm.
“You know already it will be a girl?” Andrinor stared at her.
“A woman knows these things,” she said.
“Come, the journey has been long, let us return home,” Lash said stepping forward.
Andrinor and Prelari both gave the older woman a half bow as she walked past them toward the village.
Lorymi, the Matriarch, met the three of them as they entered the village. “Your visit to the outside lands brings new life and new blood. May the Great Mother spread her wings over this child and accept her as one of her own,” she said.
Prelari knelt before the elder woman of the village and bowed her head as the blessing was spoken. Andrinor stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder.
“Matriarch, I request the lines be verified so Prelari and I may be joined after her child is born,” Andrinor said.
Lorymi looked up at Andrinor, a slight frown on her face. He lowered his gaze at the disapproval he saw in her eyes. Tradition called for the woman to be the one to approach the Matriarch regarding marriage after the birth of her second child from the outside.
Lorymi turned her attention to Prelari, whose hand had slid up to rest on Andrinor’s. “Is this your wish also?”
“It is.”
“Very well. We will discuss this matter in the Silver Hall.” She gestured to a large building.
Andrinor offered his hand to Prelari to help her to her feet. “Are you angry I spoke at this time?”
“Of course not. I would have been disappointed if you had not. You have always been a bit more assertive than most, particularly when it is something you care about; it is one of the things I love about you. Come, the Matriarch is waiting.”
Andrinor followed Prelari into the Silver Hall and looked around. This was first time he had ever been in the building that housed all the records of his people and his eyes went wide at the sight of what lined the walls. Dragon scales of the purest silver shimmered and gleamed creating a glow that filled the room. Only a single candle sat on the center of the Hall, yet it was brighter than midday. As his eyes adjusted to the glow, he saw writing on the scales along the back wall.
“It is the lineage of our people,” Prelari said, “going back to the time of Nyiechynia.”
Andrinor stared at the wall. Nyiechynia was the servant of the Great Mother who had come to the village ages ago. The wall held the names of all those who had lived here, who had married whom, and who had been born to whom, all going back several hundred generations. His hand reached out and hovered over his own name where it was listed under his mother’s. He followed the line of his ancestors to where it began with the name Fallion and a small silver mark. “There is no record of the woman Fallion married?” He looked at the Matriarch.
“Her name is not recorded,” Lorymi said. “That is different than no record at all.”
Andrinor looked again at the lineage and his eyes began picking out the places where there were only marks of color and not names. He found several different colors: silver, gold, black, red and blue being the most prominent. Two of the silver marks were in his own family line.
“I have been consulting the lineage in anticipation of Prelari making this request. The blood ties between the two of you are distant enough that this marriage can be allowed.” She paused and smiled at both of them. “I give my blessing to this joining.”
Andrinor shut his eyes as the light in the room grew to a blinding brilliance. The light continued to grow in intensity and silver seeped through the lids of his eyes. When the light faded, Andrinor opened his eyes to find himself standing outside a large temple.
The building, though plain in its decoration was imposing in size and something about the stone and timber spoke of great strength. The large -- [End of Preview.]