"Sand Castles in the Rain"
May. 13th, 2022 01:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Sand Castles In the Rain"
6/12-6/22/1954
I.
Walking up from the ocean, fifty men in grey shark-hide suits gathered on the golden sand and surveyed the beach suspiciously. They were tall rangy figures, each one carrying a long-handled trident and most also bearing a short stabbing sword strapped across their backs. The Gelydrim had stiff bristly hair which ranged from white to a yellowish blond, and their bony faces were stern. All fifty resembled each other closely enough that they seemed to be from one family.
Several coughed up handfuls of water before seeming at ease. Once out in open air, the Gelydrim's gill slits closed up on the side of their neck and their lungs opened again. Some sea water invariably had gotten in their lungs during their time beneath the surface.
Two of the men from Ulgor stood out from the crowd. One was much broader and brawnier than his fellows, deep-chested and thick-limbed. He was the only one of that band to wear headgear, a simple crown of red coral around his temples. Burgan Tok turned to face his countrymen and announced, "No sign of the Melgar scum, as was expected. They will be marching towards us. Hear me, sons of Ulgor! Our honor demands great self-control from us this day. We shall not attack."
"Well do we know that," grumbled one of the Gelydrim who seemed younger than the others. Still in his teens with an unlined face, this individual was distinguished by the presence of two odd bumps high up on his temples. They looked as if two round objects were hidden beneath his skin. "But it will not be easy to stay our avenging hands."
"Still your tongue, Atron Ke," ordered the leader. "I know you are eager to prove yourself in battle, but this is not the day for it. Our orders are to parley and to negotiate with the Melgar bottom-feeders."
Atron stamped the butt of his spear on the hard-packed sand. "Our King has spoken and we must obey. And you, Burgan Tok, are our commander for this parley."
"Bear that in mind," their leader said. "Our King challenges the Melgar claim to this island. It is not for us to know why, nor what our enemies from Androval want here. We have but to do or die, to slay or be slain. Stand by. The sun is high overhead and the damned Melgar will approach us shortly. Men, be at ease until I give the order to fall in."
Left to their own discretion, many of the Gelydrin lowered themselves down to sit cross-legged on the beach. Facing them from half a mile away, a green row of trees stretched across the island, while to their either side was only sand and scattered rocks. Overhead, a lone seagull wheeled and squawked.
The one called Atron leaped nimbly up on a rounded waist-high rock and scanned in all directions. "Nothing. I wager the Melgarin are afraid to meet us."
The leader of the war party stepped closer and said, "Do not underestimate your enemy, my boy. I hate the Melgarin as all from Ulgor should, but I know too well they are skilled warriors with brave hearts. If we clash...and I think we will...do not hold back. Strike with all your strength."
"I can't wait!" Atron snarled, raising one pale fist toward the treeline. "The sons of Androval have never met a foe like me."
"Steady there. It's true, you are stronger and more difficult to harm than any Gelydra I have ever seen. No one knows why. Some whisper your mother gave birth above the hot pit where a Sulla Chun is said to be imprisoned. Our sorcerers think that you have been granted great power so you may meet Androval's Champions like Galvan or Sulak."
The intense young face split in a gleeful smile. "Why not ask ME what made me so? Tok, we Gelydrim are born at the same time a shark is born and the spirit of the shark lives in us. You can see, here on my brow, the sign I will soon weild the sonar cry. Once I am seasoned, I will challenge Sulak AND Galvan together and slay them both! I swear it."
II.
Emerging from the Steward's tent, Valendir blinked at the afternoon sunlight. Barely a month earlier, she had undergone the Passage ceremony at her sixteenth birthday. Under Androval law, she now had many but not all of the rights and duties of adulthood. She was not as tall as most Melgar girls her age, five inches over five feet tall, slender and nimble as a faun. Valendir's wavy brown hair had golden highlights in the sun, but her hazel eyes were bright under any conditions. Here in the field, she wore only soft slippers and a tan-colored cotton dress which reached past her knees and left her arms bare.
"Where do you think YOU are escaping to?" called a stern voice behind her. Older by ten years and more solidly built, Marithen wore her own black hair bound behind her with ribbons. Her dress was darker, of thicker material and did not fit as snugly as did Valendir's. "There is much yet to be done, little one. Sunset tonight is the parley when we will meet with those vile Gelydrim."
"Oh, I need air!" Valendir cried, twirling so her dress flared out around her brown legs. "How beautiful this day is. And yet I sit inside that gloomy tent to mend tunics and to weave wicker and to clean armor. Come with me, Marithen, my feet tell me they want to walk in the grass."
"Your buttocks will be telling you not to sit down after I spank you," the older woman said. "Get back in here."
"Something stirs in the air. Can't you feel it? Something wonderful comes my way." Valendir pressed her palms high up on her chest. "Perhaps here on this island, my true love is seeking me out even now."
Marithen softened slightly at that. "Ah, I remember the feeling that excites you now. So long have Halgar and I been betrothed. I remember blood singing in my veins, I remember wanting to dance and sing for no reason."
"Then you do understand?" asked Valendir.
"In truth, I do. You still must get back in this tent and finish your work."
"Very well. I bow my head and trudge with heavy heart to my chores."
As Valendir went past her through the open flap, Marithen patted her high on the back. "Trust me, child, when love seeks you out, there is nothing in any realm that can stop it."
III.
While still separated by one hundred yards, both war parties made a show of disarming. The Gelydrim stuck their tridents point downward into the sand, making a bristling row of the shafts. They shrugged out of their harnesses and placed the bone-bladed short swords at the base of each trident as well. The Melgarin had a wider variety of weapons, including axes and halberd, but they likewise laid their arms down and stood there in their armor of tough leather tunics over linen shirts and trousers.
Slowly, the two groups each formed a wedge and began approaching each other. The leaders strode ahead of their men, Haldar and Burgan Tok marching up to within arm's reach of each other.
"On the honor of the City Beneath the Sea, I state that we come to parley in good faith,: announced Tok in his deepest and most authoritative tone.
Haldar responded, "By the sacred White Horse of Androval, I swear the same. Our kings have directed us to this counsel. Shall we begin by arranging where we can find neutral ground? I propose that the tent of our Steward be so designated. It stands apart from our camp. Food and drink can be found there, it would be well if that tent remained untouched by hostilities."
"Who will be allowed in this tent..?" Burgan Tok said, "What numbers at one time?"
Minutes dragged by as the two leaders negotiated, detail by detail, haggling and compromising like dealers at a bazaar. When they began arguing over where fires should be built to prepare food, Atron Ke could not restrain his impatience any longer. His Gelydrin and the Melgarin had slowly begun to spread out into two semi-circles facing each other with their leaders in the center.
Atron saw the intense interest on his countrymen's faces as they were lost in petty trivia over protocol. Not for him. He would be happy to race across the sand and dive headlong at the Melgar scum. There was bound to be a battle, why not get it over with?
Likewise wandering back from the crowd of her people, a young Melgar girl drifted around the assemblage, feeling not so much bored as restless. What was troubling her? Why was it so hard to stay still that day?
Valendir saw the tall young Gelydra and forgot everything else. The sounds of both Races arguing faded away. All she was aware of was that strange fascinating face which turned toward her. The cloudy dark blue eyes widened in Atron's face and his lips parted. Valendir realized with a thrill of hope that he had seen her. And he felt it too! Moments ago, she had been bored and even sullen at having to endure this parley but suddenly the night hummed with excitement.
What was this feeling? What was this force that had awakened her from the careless and drowsy life she had known? Valendir found herself walking around the circle of warriors, who were all concentrating on the argument and didn't notice her go by at all. To her infinite joy, the strange Gelydra was doing the same, coming toward her, and he was neither leering nor scowling. He looked... afraid?
They came to a halt only when they were nearly touching. Suddenly Valendir laughed and Atron grinned as the tension broke. "I am so nervous," she said, "And I don't know why. We are not going to fight, are we?"
"Fighting is the last thing on my mind," Atron replied meekly. He held up both empty hands, not realized he was doing this to show he was unarmed. "Are all Melgar girls as pretty as you?"
"Ha ha, they only wish they were. I am Valendir, I volunteered to come here to help out. Can you be a warrior while so young?"
"No. I am so far untested by war. My name is Atron Ke. Somehow, being a fighter seems pointless tonight. I love your accent. You speak the Common Tongue as if singing it." He drew closer still, until their breath mingled as she gazed up at him. "Don't hate me because I am from Ulgor."
"It is not hate I feel," she admitted, then gestured annoyedly at the circle of warriors arguing. "As if life isn't short enough! Why can't we be friends?"
From what seemed like miles away, the booming voice of Haldar roared, "What in Cirkoth's name...!? Valendir! Get away from that savage!"
While they were still close to each other, the Melgar girl said, "The cluster of white trees Tonight. When the Three Sisters are lowest in the sky." And then the powerful hand of the Melgar commander had closed around her upper arm and was hauling her away. Over one shoulder, Haldar shouted, "If not for the truce, I would gut you! Leave our maidens alone, shark-spawn."
Many in the assemblage had turned to stare. Atron Ke did not notice. "When the Three Sisters are lowest..." he whispered.
On the other side of the parley, he saw the girl being escorted away by an older woman.
Her name was Valendir. Atron shook his head and moved back toward the assembly. Excited Gelydrim informed him that a ritual duel was being arranged. Tomorrow when the sun was directly overhead, one warrior from the Gelydrim and one from the Melgarin would meet in unarmed combat until one surrendered or was unable to continue.
The duel's outcome would not decide the dispute between the two Races, but it would be seen as an omen. Whichever Champion lost, his people would be disenheartened and likely ready to concede. This method of averting full scale battles went back to the Darthan Age.
An hour earlier, Atron would have been pleading to be his Race's champion. That all seemed pointless now. He was picturing the tanned eager face of the Melgar girl, Valendir. The sky was still bright, it would feel like ages until night came.
IV.
More stealthily than he had ever moved before, Atron Ke rose up from the water near some rocks which offered concealment. His people slept a hundred yards out to sea, drifting near the ocean floor as was their way. Only a few sentries had been posted, and they were watching for Melgarin approaching in boats, not for a Gelydra stealing away. Atron had not been observed leaving the Gelydra camp, nor would his absence be noted until morning sunlight penetrated down through the water.
Under the faint glimmer of a mere sliver crescent moon, he stalked across the beach to the west shore. Sparks of red light in the distance showed where the Melgarin had made camp. Ahead, four white-barked trees huddled together inside a dense circle of bushes. He had known at once what the girl had meant. Atron glanced up at the purple sky. There! The row of stars that were called the Three Sisters after ancient legend. They were low in the sky this time of year, nearly touching the horizon.
Even at his youthful age, Atron Ke had fought duels against challengers, he had hunted sharks and faced the War Squid, he had survived the gantlet of blades. But he had never known fear like he felt now. Then he saw a small dark shadow stir beneath the trees and a gentle voice said, "You DID come."
They rushed to hold each other as if they had planned to do so, and Valendir kissed him fervently, forcing his lips open to slip her tongue into his mouth. Atron tensed, then slowly relaxed and allowed her to give him this strange new pleasure.
Breaking free, gasping, she whispered, "Don't Gelydrim kiss?"
"No. We... we nuzzle our faces together, rubbing cheek to cheek. This is new to me," he admitted.
"I will teach you," she chuckled and lifted her face to his again.
Neither one could have estimated how long they embraced, but eventually they paused. Atron gazed all around but no one was in sight. "Valendir..." Atron said uncertainly.
Running her hands up and down his arms, the Melgar girl laughed. "All this day I could feel something wonderful was racing to find me. I knew it! And I was right. You have come a distance farther than miles can measure to find me."
Atron reached up, his powerful hand gentle as a whisper as he brushed her hair back where it had fallen over her brow. "Here you are, here WE are. I never understood what the elders meant what they spoke of love. This must be it. The stars burn brighter than ever before, the air is fresh and crisp, or is it me? Am I really alive for the first time?"
"I dare not stay long," she said, pressing her head up against his chest. "If the others should wake and find I am not on my mat, they would search for me."
"We must meet again. There is so much to say. I want to know all about you, what you think, what you feel," Atron blurted. "There is a whole world within you that calls to me."
"Tomorrow night, at this time, at this place." She got up on her toes to brush her lips lightly against his. "Think of me until then." Then Valendir raced off into the darkness.
Alone again, Atron Ke listened until her soft footsteps faded. "How can I think of anything else?" he asked out loud.
V.
All morning, Atron's head had ached. The round bumps up high on his temples were sore and felt hot to the touch. His sonar was ready to manifest. The healers of Ulgor had told him years earlier that he was one of those rare Gelydrim who had the horns which emitted sound waves higher than ears could hear. In dark or cloudy waters, those horns would enable him to maneuver safely because his mind would be able to interpret the returning sound waves. There had been cases in the past where a gifted Gelydra could daze and confuse an enemy by pulsing out those ultrasonic impulses at high levels.
Because of his enhanced strength and resilience, and because of the promise of the sonar horns, Atron Ke had been raised with even more martial training than the norm. Everyone in Ulgor expected him to become a legendary fighter when he reached maturity. It had been all he had looked forward to life.
Until last night changed everything. Standing next to others of the war party, seeing the sun glisten on their still-wet sharkhide suits, he heard them boasting about how many Melgarin they could each strike down in combat. It sounded hollow to him. What did any of that matter? Had any of these toughened veterans ever felt what he was feeling? Had any of them ever waited so impatiently to see a girl again the way he was waiting?
Atron fell in line as his fellows formed seven lines of seven men. He stood upright, head high and shoulders back as the others did, but his thoughts were wild and bright. Was Valendie thinking of him at that very moment? Perhaps she had dreamed of him, and the thought pleased him greatly.
Pacing from one of the front line to other and back, Burgan Tok finally planted himself with feet well apart. "Shark-kin of the City Beneath the Sea! Never have I seen finer men assembled. Seven times seven, but one must be chosen to slay the Melgar fool who dares opppose us."
"I will go!" "Choose me!" "I am undefeated, Oh Tok!" roared the gathering, but their commander raised a hand for silence.
"Long has it been since Ulgor has seen one of those we call Kirguls, the Destroyers. Rare are their births. Yet one such Kirgul stands in your ranks now. I name him to be our champion against the scum from Androval. Step forth, Atron Ke the Destroyer."
A murmur of annoyance and then approval swept over the Gelydrim at that announcement. Atron's remarkable feats of strength even as a youth had earned him a reputation in Ulgor. Every Gelydra there had been hoping to see him in action and find out if a legend was being made.
Slowly, distractedly, Atron unfastened the thongs which held his tunic and pants on. The sharkhide outfits were made with the rough denticles on the outside, so that mere brushing up against them would abrade skin. Left in only a narrow loincloth of white material, Atron stood revealed as a lean, pale figure with highly defined muscles and no visible fat.
Striding forward into the open area between the two forces was a much taller and brawnier man, wearing a short woven kilt. Haldar had thickly muscled arms and legs, a broad chest and tight abdomen. He made Atron seem like a mere boy by comparison. The ferocious expression on his bearded face heightened the contrast.
Atron stared as he recognized Haldar. Valendir's brother! What should he do? Horns of Grelok, he was trapped beyond hope. Atron realized in a flash that his honor as a Gelydra demanded he defeat Haldar, but could he do so without killing the Melgar? And if he killed or even maimed Haldar, what would Valendir think? Would she hate him? The thought made a cold sharp pain gather in the pit of his stomach.
In the second when Atron stood paralyzed by indecision, the champion of his enemies vaulted forward. Melgarin were boxers by tradition. The big Melgar feinted with a distracting wave of his left hand and immediately crashed a short hooking punch with his right that caught Atron on the jaw. Instantly, Haldar blasted a backhand with the same right fist and sent his Gelydra opponent reeling back to fall into a seated position on the sand.
Deep in his chest, Atron Ke growled.
Quicker than one of the sharks his people claimed as totems, the Gelydra youth pounced twenty feet to bring Haldar down to the hard golden sand. Atron leaped up, seized Haldar by the neck and one leg, then raised him easily overhead to bend the Melgar the wrong way until his spine snapped audibly. The Gelydra threw the twitching body aside and wheeled to glare at both the Melgarin and his own Race with maddened eyes.
Complete silence fell over the scene. It was the first time in a generation that the berserker rage of a Destroyer was witnessed. As a final element of horror, two flexible fleshy stalks had extended from Atron's forehead and a high-pitched buzzing could be heard. His sonar power was emerging.
With his chest heaving, the young Gelydra rasped, "Isn't that what you all wanted? Are you happy now?"
Long moments later, Sulaveg took command of the Melgar party. He pointed to his nearest countrymen and barked, "Gather up our commander. Bring him to our camp where he may be buried with dignity. Sons of Ulgor! Hear me, these are my words. Tonight we will mourn Haldar but tomorrow we will avenge him."
"Tomorrow you will join him!" yelled Atron, as two of his fellows took him by the arms and tugged him back away from where Haldar's body was being claimed. The Gelydrim watched in silence as their enemies trudged down the beach and passed out of sight.
Burgan Tok handed the folded sharkhide clothing to Atron. "There is no doubt now that you are indeed a Kirgul, a Destroyer such as our legends tell. When the sons of Androval return tomorrow, you will be our spearhead."
"I did not ask for any of this," Atron snarled, yanking the bundle away from his commander. As his fury ebbed and the adrenalin surge left his body, he suddenly remembered Valendir. He had killed her brother! He had thrown away the happiness that had been offered to him. Why? Why had this happened. "The gods torture me for their entertainment..."
VI.
"I did not dare hope you would come tonight," Atron whispered.
"How can I forgive you? That was my brother whose life you took! He will never talk to me again. I will never hear him laugh and I will never see him place the wedding ring on Marithen's hand as was promised." She slapped both hands against his chest to push him away but he did not move an inch.
"If by giving up my own life could I bring him back, I would," he said quietly.
Valendir sobbed and threw herself up against him. He could feel her body shaking as she wept. His own eyes streamed, something so rare in Gelydrim that he did not recognize the sensation. Clumsily, he placed his arms around her and held her tightly as she cried.
"War and fighting are a fool's game that no one wins," he said. "I see that now. If only everyone could see what is truly important in life."
"So much hatred all around us," she managed between sobs. "Why do our Races hate each other so? If only we could be left out of it all! Why are we tortured so by the gods?"
"I must go," Atron said, but she held him fiercely.
"Don't let go of me. Never let go. Oh Atron. Have you ever built sand castles? As a child, I built a beautiful dreamlike sand castle just as a thunderstorm burst." She lifted her tearful eyes to meet his gaze. "But it didn't matter that it was swept away so soon, Atron, it's enough to have built the sand castle at all."
The Gelydra warrior rubbed her back, his powerful hands gentle as the touch of feathers. "Our love is the sand castle, you mean. Whatever happens, we two have met and loved and that means everything."
"You do understand. Listen. This world is bigger than Ulgor or Androval. There is a safe harbor for us if we can find it. I will go anywhere with you!"
Atron Ke finally released her. "I will return for you, Valendir, even if both our peoples try to stand between us. We will build a home somewhere far beyond their grasp."
"And do you see children in this home?" she whispered.
"Many children! They will be beautiful as their mother, stubborn as their father."
Despite everything, she sniffled and smiled. "Or headstrong as their mother and handsome as their father. Hurry back. We have a life together to start building."
One gentle, lingering kiss that tasted salty from tears. Then she heard him moving away into the darkness, and Valendir started to weep again. If she had never volunteered to accompany the warriors to this island, if she had stayed safe and unwounded back in Androval... but then, she would have never known what her heart was capable of. Trying not to make any noise, wiping at her eyes, the Melgar girl started retracing her steps back toward the tent. Marithen was grieving, too. She had lost the love of her life as well when they had brought the broken form of Halbarde to the camp.
Tomorrow, Valendir knew, the two parties would clash and more would die. Nothing coulf stop that and it would have been futile to ask Atron not to join the fighting. It felt as if they were only chess pieces on a board where the Higher Ones played cruel games with their lives. She and Marithen and the three other women were expected to remain in the camp and wait passively for the outcome of battle.
Finding the tent and slowly crawling in under the flap, Valendir swore to herself that she would not remain a pawn of uncaring gods any longer. When she saw a chance, she would run to where her people and Atron's people would be casting blades at each other. No matter what happened to her, she would be there. In the dark, finding her coarse wool blanket by touch, the exhausted girl stretched out and fell into a dreamless slumber.
VII.
At dawn, the Gelydrim assembled on the beach, fully armed, chanting their battle song. Hastening to meet them raced the Melgarin. The two groups spread out into lines facing each other and without strategy charged into a full melee. Both were tougher than Human, both were wearing protective armor. They hacked and thrust at each other with casualties only slowly beginning to mount up. The battle seemed as if it would take hours to show either side any advantage.
Then Valendir hurtled down the beach, pursued by the other Melgar women who were trying to catch her. She yelled a desperate warning to Atron, who turned his head just in time to see a stray Melgar spear slide through her body. The Melgar maid tumbled down with blood spurting from her mouth, the shaft protruding up from her chest.
Atron's sonar exploded at full strength. The high shrill whine sliced through the air and forced everyone on both sides to drop helplessly to the sand. They writhed, clutching at their heads as the unearthly shriek forced their bodies to convulse. Only Atron was unaffected. He raced to bend over Valendir and he saw recognition in her eyes in the second before she died.
He could not speak. The Destroyer rose to his feet, his horns retracting and the sonic cry fading away. All around him, dazed warriors fumbled and fell over as they tried helplessly to rise. Confused faces stared up at him.
"Fools! You utter fools!" Atron screamed. "See what your hard hearts have done." He grasped the spear by the shaft and the tip, and snapped it cleanly in half. "An end to war! An end to hatred! Is that too much to ask?" he demanded and then fell to his knees with his head hanging down, bent over Valendir.
Atron did not look up to see both war parties struggle to rise, shaky on their feet, their ears ringing and their vision blurred. With infinite reluctance, two of the Melgarin and two of the Gelydrim met each others' gaze and then approached where Valendir lay stretched out on the sand. Hands respectful under her shoulders and at her sides and feet, bitter enemies lifted her body to shoulder height. It was Tok who held up her head. Then, walking as slowly as if against a stiff gale, they began to carry her home.
Finally rising to his feet again with one hand pressed to his pounding heart, Atron knew this truce would not last. It would be only a brief pause in centuries of bitterness. He followed the heartbroken procession. Every step took an effort. Watching lifelong enemies sharing mutual grief, Atron Ke could not stop thinking about what Valendir had said about their love. Sand castles in the rain. He thought he understood now that it did not matter that the sand castles would not endure. It was enough that they had existed at all.
5/7/2022
6/12-6/22/1954
I.
Walking up from the ocean, fifty men in grey shark-hide suits gathered on the golden sand and surveyed the beach suspiciously. They were tall rangy figures, each one carrying a long-handled trident and most also bearing a short stabbing sword strapped across their backs. The Gelydrim had stiff bristly hair which ranged from white to a yellowish blond, and their bony faces were stern. All fifty resembled each other closely enough that they seemed to be from one family.
Several coughed up handfuls of water before seeming at ease. Once out in open air, the Gelydrim's gill slits closed up on the side of their neck and their lungs opened again. Some sea water invariably had gotten in their lungs during their time beneath the surface.
Two of the men from Ulgor stood out from the crowd. One was much broader and brawnier than his fellows, deep-chested and thick-limbed. He was the only one of that band to wear headgear, a simple crown of red coral around his temples. Burgan Tok turned to face his countrymen and announced, "No sign of the Melgar scum, as was expected. They will be marching towards us. Hear me, sons of Ulgor! Our honor demands great self-control from us this day. We shall not attack."
"Well do we know that," grumbled one of the Gelydrim who seemed younger than the others. Still in his teens with an unlined face, this individual was distinguished by the presence of two odd bumps high up on his temples. They looked as if two round objects were hidden beneath his skin. "But it will not be easy to stay our avenging hands."
"Still your tongue, Atron Ke," ordered the leader. "I know you are eager to prove yourself in battle, but this is not the day for it. Our orders are to parley and to negotiate with the Melgar bottom-feeders."
Atron stamped the butt of his spear on the hard-packed sand. "Our King has spoken and we must obey. And you, Burgan Tok, are our commander for this parley."
"Bear that in mind," their leader said. "Our King challenges the Melgar claim to this island. It is not for us to know why, nor what our enemies from Androval want here. We have but to do or die, to slay or be slain. Stand by. The sun is high overhead and the damned Melgar will approach us shortly. Men, be at ease until I give the order to fall in."
Left to their own discretion, many of the Gelydrin lowered themselves down to sit cross-legged on the beach. Facing them from half a mile away, a green row of trees stretched across the island, while to their either side was only sand and scattered rocks. Overhead, a lone seagull wheeled and squawked.
The one called Atron leaped nimbly up on a rounded waist-high rock and scanned in all directions. "Nothing. I wager the Melgarin are afraid to meet us."
The leader of the war party stepped closer and said, "Do not underestimate your enemy, my boy. I hate the Melgarin as all from Ulgor should, but I know too well they are skilled warriors with brave hearts. If we clash...and I think we will...do not hold back. Strike with all your strength."
"I can't wait!" Atron snarled, raising one pale fist toward the treeline. "The sons of Androval have never met a foe like me."
"Steady there. It's true, you are stronger and more difficult to harm than any Gelydra I have ever seen. No one knows why. Some whisper your mother gave birth above the hot pit where a Sulla Chun is said to be imprisoned. Our sorcerers think that you have been granted great power so you may meet Androval's Champions like Galvan or Sulak."
The intense young face split in a gleeful smile. "Why not ask ME what made me so? Tok, we Gelydrim are born at the same time a shark is born and the spirit of the shark lives in us. You can see, here on my brow, the sign I will soon weild the sonar cry. Once I am seasoned, I will challenge Sulak AND Galvan together and slay them both! I swear it."
II.
Emerging from the Steward's tent, Valendir blinked at the afternoon sunlight. Barely a month earlier, she had undergone the Passage ceremony at her sixteenth birthday. Under Androval law, she now had many but not all of the rights and duties of adulthood. She was not as tall as most Melgar girls her age, five inches over five feet tall, slender and nimble as a faun. Valendir's wavy brown hair had golden highlights in the sun, but her hazel eyes were bright under any conditions. Here in the field, she wore only soft slippers and a tan-colored cotton dress which reached past her knees and left her arms bare.
"Where do you think YOU are escaping to?" called a stern voice behind her. Older by ten years and more solidly built, Marithen wore her own black hair bound behind her with ribbons. Her dress was darker, of thicker material and did not fit as snugly as did Valendir's. "There is much yet to be done, little one. Sunset tonight is the parley when we will meet with those vile Gelydrim."
"Oh, I need air!" Valendir cried, twirling so her dress flared out around her brown legs. "How beautiful this day is. And yet I sit inside that gloomy tent to mend tunics and to weave wicker and to clean armor. Come with me, Marithen, my feet tell me they want to walk in the grass."
"Your buttocks will be telling you not to sit down after I spank you," the older woman said. "Get back in here."
"Something stirs in the air. Can't you feel it? Something wonderful comes my way." Valendir pressed her palms high up on her chest. "Perhaps here on this island, my true love is seeking me out even now."
Marithen softened slightly at that. "Ah, I remember the feeling that excites you now. So long have Halgar and I been betrothed. I remember blood singing in my veins, I remember wanting to dance and sing for no reason."
"Then you do understand?" asked Valendir.
"In truth, I do. You still must get back in this tent and finish your work."
"Very well. I bow my head and trudge with heavy heart to my chores."
As Valendir went past her through the open flap, Marithen patted her high on the back. "Trust me, child, when love seeks you out, there is nothing in any realm that can stop it."
III.
While still separated by one hundred yards, both war parties made a show of disarming. The Gelydrim stuck their tridents point downward into the sand, making a bristling row of the shafts. They shrugged out of their harnesses and placed the bone-bladed short swords at the base of each trident as well. The Melgarin had a wider variety of weapons, including axes and halberd, but they likewise laid their arms down and stood there in their armor of tough leather tunics over linen shirts and trousers.
Slowly, the two groups each formed a wedge and began approaching each other. The leaders strode ahead of their men, Haldar and Burgan Tok marching up to within arm's reach of each other.
"On the honor of the City Beneath the Sea, I state that we come to parley in good faith,: announced Tok in his deepest and most authoritative tone.
Haldar responded, "By the sacred White Horse of Androval, I swear the same. Our kings have directed us to this counsel. Shall we begin by arranging where we can find neutral ground? I propose that the tent of our Steward be so designated. It stands apart from our camp. Food and drink can be found there, it would be well if that tent remained untouched by hostilities."
"Who will be allowed in this tent..?" Burgan Tok said, "What numbers at one time?"
Minutes dragged by as the two leaders negotiated, detail by detail, haggling and compromising like dealers at a bazaar. When they began arguing over where fires should be built to prepare food, Atron Ke could not restrain his impatience any longer. His Gelydrin and the Melgarin had slowly begun to spread out into two semi-circles facing each other with their leaders in the center.
Atron saw the intense interest on his countrymen's faces as they were lost in petty trivia over protocol. Not for him. He would be happy to race across the sand and dive headlong at the Melgar scum. There was bound to be a battle, why not get it over with?
Likewise wandering back from the crowd of her people, a young Melgar girl drifted around the assemblage, feeling not so much bored as restless. What was troubling her? Why was it so hard to stay still that day?
Valendir saw the tall young Gelydra and forgot everything else. The sounds of both Races arguing faded away. All she was aware of was that strange fascinating face which turned toward her. The cloudy dark blue eyes widened in Atron's face and his lips parted. Valendir realized with a thrill of hope that he had seen her. And he felt it too! Moments ago, she had been bored and even sullen at having to endure this parley but suddenly the night hummed with excitement.
What was this feeling? What was this force that had awakened her from the careless and drowsy life she had known? Valendir found herself walking around the circle of warriors, who were all concentrating on the argument and didn't notice her go by at all. To her infinite joy, the strange Gelydra was doing the same, coming toward her, and he was neither leering nor scowling. He looked... afraid?
They came to a halt only when they were nearly touching. Suddenly Valendir laughed and Atron grinned as the tension broke. "I am so nervous," she said, "And I don't know why. We are not going to fight, are we?"
"Fighting is the last thing on my mind," Atron replied meekly. He held up both empty hands, not realized he was doing this to show he was unarmed. "Are all Melgar girls as pretty as you?"
"Ha ha, they only wish they were. I am Valendir, I volunteered to come here to help out. Can you be a warrior while so young?"
"No. I am so far untested by war. My name is Atron Ke. Somehow, being a fighter seems pointless tonight. I love your accent. You speak the Common Tongue as if singing it." He drew closer still, until their breath mingled as she gazed up at him. "Don't hate me because I am from Ulgor."
"It is not hate I feel," she admitted, then gestured annoyedly at the circle of warriors arguing. "As if life isn't short enough! Why can't we be friends?"
From what seemed like miles away, the booming voice of Haldar roared, "What in Cirkoth's name...!? Valendir! Get away from that savage!"
While they were still close to each other, the Melgar girl said, "The cluster of white trees Tonight. When the Three Sisters are lowest in the sky." And then the powerful hand of the Melgar commander had closed around her upper arm and was hauling her away. Over one shoulder, Haldar shouted, "If not for the truce, I would gut you! Leave our maidens alone, shark-spawn."
Many in the assemblage had turned to stare. Atron Ke did not notice. "When the Three Sisters are lowest..." he whispered.
On the other side of the parley, he saw the girl being escorted away by an older woman.
Her name was Valendir. Atron shook his head and moved back toward the assembly. Excited Gelydrim informed him that a ritual duel was being arranged. Tomorrow when the sun was directly overhead, one warrior from the Gelydrim and one from the Melgarin would meet in unarmed combat until one surrendered or was unable to continue.
The duel's outcome would not decide the dispute between the two Races, but it would be seen as an omen. Whichever Champion lost, his people would be disenheartened and likely ready to concede. This method of averting full scale battles went back to the Darthan Age.
An hour earlier, Atron would have been pleading to be his Race's champion. That all seemed pointless now. He was picturing the tanned eager face of the Melgar girl, Valendir. The sky was still bright, it would feel like ages until night came.
IV.
More stealthily than he had ever moved before, Atron Ke rose up from the water near some rocks which offered concealment. His people slept a hundred yards out to sea, drifting near the ocean floor as was their way. Only a few sentries had been posted, and they were watching for Melgarin approaching in boats, not for a Gelydra stealing away. Atron had not been observed leaving the Gelydra camp, nor would his absence be noted until morning sunlight penetrated down through the water.
Under the faint glimmer of a mere sliver crescent moon, he stalked across the beach to the west shore. Sparks of red light in the distance showed where the Melgarin had made camp. Ahead, four white-barked trees huddled together inside a dense circle of bushes. He had known at once what the girl had meant. Atron glanced up at the purple sky. There! The row of stars that were called the Three Sisters after ancient legend. They were low in the sky this time of year, nearly touching the horizon.
Even at his youthful age, Atron Ke had fought duels against challengers, he had hunted sharks and faced the War Squid, he had survived the gantlet of blades. But he had never known fear like he felt now. Then he saw a small dark shadow stir beneath the trees and a gentle voice said, "You DID come."
They rushed to hold each other as if they had planned to do so, and Valendir kissed him fervently, forcing his lips open to slip her tongue into his mouth. Atron tensed, then slowly relaxed and allowed her to give him this strange new pleasure.
Breaking free, gasping, she whispered, "Don't Gelydrim kiss?"
"No. We... we nuzzle our faces together, rubbing cheek to cheek. This is new to me," he admitted.
"I will teach you," she chuckled and lifted her face to his again.
Neither one could have estimated how long they embraced, but eventually they paused. Atron gazed all around but no one was in sight. "Valendir..." Atron said uncertainly.
Running her hands up and down his arms, the Melgar girl laughed. "All this day I could feel something wonderful was racing to find me. I knew it! And I was right. You have come a distance farther than miles can measure to find me."
Atron reached up, his powerful hand gentle as a whisper as he brushed her hair back where it had fallen over her brow. "Here you are, here WE are. I never understood what the elders meant what they spoke of love. This must be it. The stars burn brighter than ever before, the air is fresh and crisp, or is it me? Am I really alive for the first time?"
"I dare not stay long," she said, pressing her head up against his chest. "If the others should wake and find I am not on my mat, they would search for me."
"We must meet again. There is so much to say. I want to know all about you, what you think, what you feel," Atron blurted. "There is a whole world within you that calls to me."
"Tomorrow night, at this time, at this place." She got up on her toes to brush her lips lightly against his. "Think of me until then." Then Valendir raced off into the darkness.
Alone again, Atron Ke listened until her soft footsteps faded. "How can I think of anything else?" he asked out loud.
V.
All morning, Atron's head had ached. The round bumps up high on his temples were sore and felt hot to the touch. His sonar was ready to manifest. The healers of Ulgor had told him years earlier that he was one of those rare Gelydrim who had the horns which emitted sound waves higher than ears could hear. In dark or cloudy waters, those horns would enable him to maneuver safely because his mind would be able to interpret the returning sound waves. There had been cases in the past where a gifted Gelydra could daze and confuse an enemy by pulsing out those ultrasonic impulses at high levels.
Because of his enhanced strength and resilience, and because of the promise of the sonar horns, Atron Ke had been raised with even more martial training than the norm. Everyone in Ulgor expected him to become a legendary fighter when he reached maturity. It had been all he had looked forward to life.
Until last night changed everything. Standing next to others of the war party, seeing the sun glisten on their still-wet sharkhide suits, he heard them boasting about how many Melgarin they could each strike down in combat. It sounded hollow to him. What did any of that matter? Had any of these toughened veterans ever felt what he was feeling? Had any of them ever waited so impatiently to see a girl again the way he was waiting?
Atron fell in line as his fellows formed seven lines of seven men. He stood upright, head high and shoulders back as the others did, but his thoughts were wild and bright. Was Valendie thinking of him at that very moment? Perhaps she had dreamed of him, and the thought pleased him greatly.
Pacing from one of the front line to other and back, Burgan Tok finally planted himself with feet well apart. "Shark-kin of the City Beneath the Sea! Never have I seen finer men assembled. Seven times seven, but one must be chosen to slay the Melgar fool who dares opppose us."
"I will go!" "Choose me!" "I am undefeated, Oh Tok!" roared the gathering, but their commander raised a hand for silence.
"Long has it been since Ulgor has seen one of those we call Kirguls, the Destroyers. Rare are their births. Yet one such Kirgul stands in your ranks now. I name him to be our champion against the scum from Androval. Step forth, Atron Ke the Destroyer."
A murmur of annoyance and then approval swept over the Gelydrim at that announcement. Atron's remarkable feats of strength even as a youth had earned him a reputation in Ulgor. Every Gelydra there had been hoping to see him in action and find out if a legend was being made.
Slowly, distractedly, Atron unfastened the thongs which held his tunic and pants on. The sharkhide outfits were made with the rough denticles on the outside, so that mere brushing up against them would abrade skin. Left in only a narrow loincloth of white material, Atron stood revealed as a lean, pale figure with highly defined muscles and no visible fat.
Striding forward into the open area between the two forces was a much taller and brawnier man, wearing a short woven kilt. Haldar had thickly muscled arms and legs, a broad chest and tight abdomen. He made Atron seem like a mere boy by comparison. The ferocious expression on his bearded face heightened the contrast.
Atron stared as he recognized Haldar. Valendir's brother! What should he do? Horns of Grelok, he was trapped beyond hope. Atron realized in a flash that his honor as a Gelydra demanded he defeat Haldar, but could he do so without killing the Melgar? And if he killed or even maimed Haldar, what would Valendir think? Would she hate him? The thought made a cold sharp pain gather in the pit of his stomach.
In the second when Atron stood paralyzed by indecision, the champion of his enemies vaulted forward. Melgarin were boxers by tradition. The big Melgar feinted with a distracting wave of his left hand and immediately crashed a short hooking punch with his right that caught Atron on the jaw. Instantly, Haldar blasted a backhand with the same right fist and sent his Gelydra opponent reeling back to fall into a seated position on the sand.
Deep in his chest, Atron Ke growled.
Quicker than one of the sharks his people claimed as totems, the Gelydra youth pounced twenty feet to bring Haldar down to the hard golden sand. Atron leaped up, seized Haldar by the neck and one leg, then raised him easily overhead to bend the Melgar the wrong way until his spine snapped audibly. The Gelydra threw the twitching body aside and wheeled to glare at both the Melgarin and his own Race with maddened eyes.
Complete silence fell over the scene. It was the first time in a generation that the berserker rage of a Destroyer was witnessed. As a final element of horror, two flexible fleshy stalks had extended from Atron's forehead and a high-pitched buzzing could be heard. His sonar power was emerging.
With his chest heaving, the young Gelydra rasped, "Isn't that what you all wanted? Are you happy now?"
Long moments later, Sulaveg took command of the Melgar party. He pointed to his nearest countrymen and barked, "Gather up our commander. Bring him to our camp where he may be buried with dignity. Sons of Ulgor! Hear me, these are my words. Tonight we will mourn Haldar but tomorrow we will avenge him."
"Tomorrow you will join him!" yelled Atron, as two of his fellows took him by the arms and tugged him back away from where Haldar's body was being claimed. The Gelydrim watched in silence as their enemies trudged down the beach and passed out of sight.
Burgan Tok handed the folded sharkhide clothing to Atron. "There is no doubt now that you are indeed a Kirgul, a Destroyer such as our legends tell. When the sons of Androval return tomorrow, you will be our spearhead."
"I did not ask for any of this," Atron snarled, yanking the bundle away from his commander. As his fury ebbed and the adrenalin surge left his body, he suddenly remembered Valendir. He had killed her brother! He had thrown away the happiness that had been offered to him. Why? Why had this happened. "The gods torture me for their entertainment..."
VI.
"I did not dare hope you would come tonight," Atron whispered.
"How can I forgive you? That was my brother whose life you took! He will never talk to me again. I will never hear him laugh and I will never see him place the wedding ring on Marithen's hand as was promised." She slapped both hands against his chest to push him away but he did not move an inch.
"If by giving up my own life could I bring him back, I would," he said quietly.
Valendir sobbed and threw herself up against him. He could feel her body shaking as she wept. His own eyes streamed, something so rare in Gelydrim that he did not recognize the sensation. Clumsily, he placed his arms around her and held her tightly as she cried.
"War and fighting are a fool's game that no one wins," he said. "I see that now. If only everyone could see what is truly important in life."
"So much hatred all around us," she managed between sobs. "Why do our Races hate each other so? If only we could be left out of it all! Why are we tortured so by the gods?"
"I must go," Atron said, but she held him fiercely.
"Don't let go of me. Never let go. Oh Atron. Have you ever built sand castles? As a child, I built a beautiful dreamlike sand castle just as a thunderstorm burst." She lifted her tearful eyes to meet his gaze. "But it didn't matter that it was swept away so soon, Atron, it's enough to have built the sand castle at all."
The Gelydra warrior rubbed her back, his powerful hands gentle as the touch of feathers. "Our love is the sand castle, you mean. Whatever happens, we two have met and loved and that means everything."
"You do understand. Listen. This world is bigger than Ulgor or Androval. There is a safe harbor for us if we can find it. I will go anywhere with you!"
Atron Ke finally released her. "I will return for you, Valendir, even if both our peoples try to stand between us. We will build a home somewhere far beyond their grasp."
"And do you see children in this home?" she whispered.
"Many children! They will be beautiful as their mother, stubborn as their father."
Despite everything, she sniffled and smiled. "Or headstrong as their mother and handsome as their father. Hurry back. We have a life together to start building."
One gentle, lingering kiss that tasted salty from tears. Then she heard him moving away into the darkness, and Valendir started to weep again. If she had never volunteered to accompany the warriors to this island, if she had stayed safe and unwounded back in Androval... but then, she would have never known what her heart was capable of. Trying not to make any noise, wiping at her eyes, the Melgar girl started retracing her steps back toward the tent. Marithen was grieving, too. She had lost the love of her life as well when they had brought the broken form of Halbarde to the camp.
Tomorrow, Valendir knew, the two parties would clash and more would die. Nothing coulf stop that and it would have been futile to ask Atron not to join the fighting. It felt as if they were only chess pieces on a board where the Higher Ones played cruel games with their lives. She and Marithen and the three other women were expected to remain in the camp and wait passively for the outcome of battle.
Finding the tent and slowly crawling in under the flap, Valendir swore to herself that she would not remain a pawn of uncaring gods any longer. When she saw a chance, she would run to where her people and Atron's people would be casting blades at each other. No matter what happened to her, she would be there. In the dark, finding her coarse wool blanket by touch, the exhausted girl stretched out and fell into a dreamless slumber.
VII.
At dawn, the Gelydrim assembled on the beach, fully armed, chanting their battle song. Hastening to meet them raced the Melgarin. The two groups spread out into lines facing each other and without strategy charged into a full melee. Both were tougher than Human, both were wearing protective armor. They hacked and thrust at each other with casualties only slowly beginning to mount up. The battle seemed as if it would take hours to show either side any advantage.
Then Valendir hurtled down the beach, pursued by the other Melgar women who were trying to catch her. She yelled a desperate warning to Atron, who turned his head just in time to see a stray Melgar spear slide through her body. The Melgar maid tumbled down with blood spurting from her mouth, the shaft protruding up from her chest.
Atron's sonar exploded at full strength. The high shrill whine sliced through the air and forced everyone on both sides to drop helplessly to the sand. They writhed, clutching at their heads as the unearthly shriek forced their bodies to convulse. Only Atron was unaffected. He raced to bend over Valendir and he saw recognition in her eyes in the second before she died.
He could not speak. The Destroyer rose to his feet, his horns retracting and the sonic cry fading away. All around him, dazed warriors fumbled and fell over as they tried helplessly to rise. Confused faces stared up at him.
"Fools! You utter fools!" Atron screamed. "See what your hard hearts have done." He grasped the spear by the shaft and the tip, and snapped it cleanly in half. "An end to war! An end to hatred! Is that too much to ask?" he demanded and then fell to his knees with his head hanging down, bent over Valendir.
Atron did not look up to see both war parties struggle to rise, shaky on their feet, their ears ringing and their vision blurred. With infinite reluctance, two of the Melgarin and two of the Gelydrim met each others' gaze and then approached where Valendir lay stretched out on the sand. Hands respectful under her shoulders and at her sides and feet, bitter enemies lifted her body to shoulder height. It was Tok who held up her head. Then, walking as slowly as if against a stiff gale, they began to carry her home.
Finally rising to his feet again with one hand pressed to his pounding heart, Atron knew this truce would not last. It would be only a brief pause in centuries of bitterness. He followed the heartbroken procession. Every step took an effort. Watching lifelong enemies sharing mutual grief, Atron Ke could not stop thinking about what Valendir had said about their love. Sand castles in the rain. He thought he understood now that it did not matter that the sand castles would not endure. It was enough that they had existed at all.
5/7/2022
