That was the longest moment in the history of the world. I could not go back, I could not go on, I held back a scream by the merest thread. I, Lanen Kaelar, who only moments ago had been high in the air above the world and had managed to look about and forget fear, whimpered in the stony darkness.
Suddenly I heard a loud crack and a swift breath, and light blossomed like the first dawn of the world, golden, warm and comforting.
I looked about me. On the ground was only the earthen floor of the passage. The walls were smooth, the passage short before and behind me. I began to breathe again, to feel much less afraid. How powerful mere darkness was! When I stopped shaking I gathered up the wood I had dropped and walked forward into the light.
At first all I could see was Akor, the fire, and the fact that he was in a large space. I breathed easier. A large space would not be so hard to bear. I laid my wood in a pile by the entrance, for he had broken that whole huge log in two pieces and set it alight.
Then I began to look about me.
Whatever you have heard about a dragon's hoard is both less and more than the truth. I saw no artifacts, no crowns of fallen kings, nor cups, nor stores of coin.
But there was more gold in that place than I had ever imagined existed in the world. The walls of the cave were covered with it to the depth of some inches (I could tell from the deep engraving that covered much of it), and the gold was set all over with precious gems and with nacre. Even a good quarter or the floor in one corner seemed made of solid gold, and extending towards the passage opening was a path of the same stuff, as though it were alive and growing towards the daylight.
I must have stood in the entryway for a full minute, my jaw hanging open.
Akor bowed. "Welcome, Lanen, to my chambers. Come in and warm yourself. I hope your fright is past? I did not know you feared close spaces. It is not unknown even among my people, though it is unusual. Does it help to know that in this corner of the cavern there is an opening above? It runs straight up through the hill and opens on clear air, on starlight and night breezes. When the moon rises you will be able to see it from here."
I shook myself. The news was welcome, but I had to ask.
"Akor, what is this place? And why is it—why is there so much—where did it—why do you—oh!" I gave up. I was so astounded I could not make sense of my words or my thoughts.
"Lanen? Come, bring your wood close here where the fire is laid."
I was disconcerted and a little sad. I had hoped for a different reaction from the first Gedri ever to see the chambers of the Kantri. She seemed shocked. I had hoped that the firelight reflecting from the khaadish would make her feel welcome.
She could not take her eyes away from it.
I was growing impatient with her. To be distracted by such a thing, when even a youngling knew—
Akhor, Akhor, I chided myself. She is not a youngling. Perhaps she has never seen khaadish before.
"Lanen, is your fear still upon you? It is nothing to be concerned with, it is only khaadish, it is a metal like any other. More beautiful, perhaps, and certainly softer." I gouged a trench with my foreclaw as she watched.
She finally heard the disapproval in my voice. "Akor, my friend, forgive me. I did not mean to greet you so in your home." She bowed, her eyes on me now, as I had come to know her. My impatience melted like spring snow. "But you did not warn me. I defy any human to step in here and retain the power of speech! Akor, this is more gold than I have ever heard of. Where does it come from?"
"Gold?" I replied, surprised. It was her turn to amaze me. "Khaadish is gold? Oh, Lanen, you make me wise beyond all bearing!"
"What have I said? Akor?"
He had turned his head away from me in the most human gesture I had seen him make. I didn't need to ask its meaning.
"My friend, forgive me, I never meant to hurt you. What have I said?"
He answered me with his face still turned away. "In the days when our peoples lived together, there was much concern among the Gedri for ‘gold.’ It is said they killed one another for it." His voice grew even heavier. "In those days, one of the Gedri held hostage a youngling, and would have killed it for the sake of ‘gold.’ I never knew what it was when I heard the tale, and none could tell me. I could not imagine what precious, life-giving thing it could be, which they so desired and the Kantri possessed. At one time I wondered if that was their word for our soulgems. I understand now why one of the laws between our peoples in those days was that we must meet in the open, never in the chambers of the Kantri. Ah, Lanen, your knowledge wounds me. For so base a thing!"
I kept my voice as calm as I could. I had never imagined so sensitive a soul behind all that armour, I had hurt him, for all his strength and my weakness.
"Come, Akhor. Speak: with me yet, of your kindness. Why do you call this 'kadish' base? In my lands it is of great value. I have never seen such wealth in my life. A tiny portion of this is the worth of my father's farm and every soul on it. Why do you call it base?"
"Because it is!" Akor spoke now with more vehemence than I had yet heard from him. "Why do you give it worth? Creatures have worth, their deeds, their words, their thoughts or the work of their hands have worth, but metal? It is senseless." He turned back to me, his eyes blazing, his soulgem shining so bright it scattered a faint emerald light. "Child of the Gedri, I shall tell you a truth that no one of your race has ever known. This metal, this khaadish, is part of my being, it is part of my race, but we know it is of no value save for its beauty. It is natural to us, Lanen. Where we sleep we change the ground to this stuff. "
I was silent, trying to understand. Akhor kept looking at me, waiting for a reply.
"You change the ground?" I said at last: "But why?"
"There is no why, it simply happens. Where the Kantri sleep, the ground will change to khaadish. That is the way of things." Some of the intensity had left him, thank the Lady. He even managed a small hiss of laughter when he added, "We find it most comfortable to lie upon, which is just as well. Some believe that the earth would suffer too greatly from our heat without khaadish to protect it, others believe that there is something in our armour that works with the ground to produce it. No matter. It happens." He shifted until he sat on his haunches in what looked like a formal position and asked me, "Why do your people put so great a value on this worthless metal that they will kill for it?"
I wished I had a sensible answer to give him, but there was only the truth. "I have no idea," I told him honestly. "It is beautiful, certainly—you yourself have used it to give beauty to this cave—but beyond that I cannot see its value. My faHadron raised horses, and they were of worth to other men. We bartered for goods or accepted silver for them—and on rare occasions, gold—and with those metals could buy food for our horses and goods for ourselves, because others were willing to exchange them. But with all his faults, Hadron never coveted gold. He only cared about his horses."
Still Akor was silent. I could almost hear him trying to come to terms with this new knowledge that brought sorrow. After a little, I added, "I have not killed for this, Akor, nor set its worth above other things. I am sorry that it has been a source of ill will between our peoples—has anything not?—but I beg you, do not see in me the act of another."
He changed his position then and came down to me, all contrition. "Forgive me, littling. You are quite right. It is hard to remember, sometimes, how swiftly your lives hurry past. It has been many lifetimes for your race—almost as if you blamed me for the decision of the Firstborn. I beg your pardon, Lanen. You must keep reminding me."