"When it begins, it is little more than a great weariness. That is the warning. We let our mates or our closest friends know that it is upon us and leave immediately for our chambers.
"This cave is not where I spend most of my life. This is my Weh chamber, my safe place for the Weh sleep. That is why it is so far from my Kindred, so hidden, so difficult to get into.
"Next comes a terrible itching, as though our hide were too tight (which indeed it is). In the privacy of our chambers we scratch, and find that we can easily tear off the scales that normally protect us from all assaults. It is a strange and frightening time. We try to remove as many scales as possible for our own comfort, but usually the sleep takes us before much can be done.
"The Weh sleep. During it we cannot move, even if we can be partially awakened for a short while. Our old armour falls from us as the new dries and hardens underneath, and for that time
we are vulnerable to any creature that wishes us harm. And the sleep lasts until the new armour is hardened, or until any wound we have has been healed—for it will also come upon us if we are badly injured—or until the Winds wake us. It can last anywhere from a fortnight to full six moons, or vastly longer if we are badly wounded. We heal but slowly.
"In the beginning, and on many occasions since, some have tried to guard their loved ones during the Weh sleep. The reason we take the sleep so far away from our Kindred is the same reason that the idea never worked. The Weh sleep is catching—at least the sleep is. A mated couple tried it once when I was young. He was fully into the Weh for but a single day when one of us tried to bespeak her and received no answer. She was found fast asleep in the middle of the day, outside the cave. She was awakened easily enough, but she refused to
leave. She was awakened anew by friends every few hours for the next fortnight before she at last admitted that it was impossible.
"You see now, dearling, why you must never speak of it. We are asleep, unprotected by Kindred or armour, unable even to call for help or defend ourselves. It is our greatest weakness and our greatest secret."
"I understand. But why should dreams then be more important than dreams at any other time?"
"Dreams during the Weh sleep are very rare. They are generally taken to be the word of the Winds, and we are told by the Elders to pay close attention to them."
"And you had one about me?" I asked, very pleased though I was beginning to drowse. All this talk of sleep had made me realise just how tired I was. It had been an unbelievable day.
"I have had three Weh dreams, one each of the last three times I have slept. In the first I met you. It was the first day of the Harvest and I saw you come ashore, as I did in truth. In the
second half of that dream I heard someone call to me." His voice went soft and loving. "It was the voice of a child of the Gedri, pleading in the dark, and it called me brother."
I smiled. "I'm glad I got it right. What about your other two dreams?''
"In the second you and I stood on a clifftop, and I helped a pair of younglings on their first flight. There were others there, but I did not recognise them.
"And in the third—ah, it was even more mysterious than the other two. A female of your race, whom I had never seen, approached me and called me by my full, true name, but I was not frightened. It was as if we were old friends meeting after centuries apart."
I liked the sound of them all—very reassuring, somehow. I tried to say something sensible but couldn't think of anything; I was too busy yawning. Looking around, I saw that the sky was beginning to lighten.
''Akor, forgive me, but I think even talk of the Weh sleep must be catching. I don't know about you, but I'm cold and hungry and I need sleep in the worst way. Would you mind if I
slept in a corner of your chambers?''
He was amused. "Come, rouse yourself to gather firewood enough for a little time. I shall light that which you took in before."
I dragged myself round the edge of the forest twice collecting wood. Much of it had frost on it. I knew how it felt. Tired as I was, I was thankful for the exercise if only to warm my cold bones. When I brought the second armful in, Akor had already started a cheerful blaze. I found him curled onto the floor of khaadish. I purposely ignored the gleam of gold that surrounded me, not that I had to work very hard. I was exhausted.
I stood before the fire for a while, getting as warm as I could.
"Lanen, dear heart, forgive me. I forget that you feel the cold so. Come close by me, take my warmth; it is greater far than the fire."
I grinned to myself. Too tired, Lanen. You never thought of that.
There was a space on the ground, in the midst of the curl as it were. I leaned back against him and instantly relaxed against the warmth that poured from his armour. It felt wonderful. I just managed to mumble, "Goodnight, dear heart," before I fell asleep.
I lay there for many hours watching her. She was both beautiful and strange. How peculiar not to have wings! I found myself idly imagining a world in which the Gedri had once bad wings, but had lost them and been forced to walk on two feet. It still seemed an unnatural way to travel, though it did free the forelegs to carry. That was one thing I had long envied the Gedri.
She sighed in her sleep and stirred. I found myself thinking of her as a youngling again, simply because of her size. Without thinking I lay my near wing over her to keep her warm.
She did not wake, only pushed herself closer to me. It was a wondrous feeling.
I knew that I must leave her by midday to join the Council. What I would tell them now, I had no idea. I must give it thought. But I would not give up a moment with Lanen that I did not have to.
They live such quick, fiery lives, the Gedrishakrim. I had known more changes, more surprises, more emotions in the last three days than I had felt in as many centuries. My sense of time was becoming distorted also; I had begun to think in terms of hours instead of days, or moons. Or years. I had, in effect, known a little time of living like the Gedri, and it was a new and wondrous thing. I hoped I could convince the Council of that.
In the meantime I lay beside my beloved in my own chambers, something I would have sworn mere days ago would never happen. Idai will be furious, I thought, smiling sadly to myself. Dear Idai, she had wanted me for so long. I simply never felt for her as I must feel towards a mate. I hoped she would understand when at last I had to tell her. I did not think it likely.
My heart was at peace, despite all that I knew must come. The word of the Winds, the Council, having to explain about Lanen and me: none of it would be simple. But for now there were only the two of us, and I let my heart fill with the kind of joy I had despaired of ever knowing.
Lanen, my heart. Lanen, my dear one. Lanen, my betrothed.
Lanen Kaelar.
My fife had changed forever.
In the end I waited some hours after Caderan left. It was all very well for him to assure me that the beasts were bound by law—but in my experience, if you fine a butcher, you are more likely to get brains or tripe than the finest cut joints. If I were in their place I would do the same. No, I would go among their dwellings and discover what I could for myself.
I left my cabin normally clad, carrying the boots of silent movement and the cloak of unseeing. The amulet, which would mask my smell, would last but a very short time indeed, and I had decided to save it until the night we were to leave, when I would collect whatever I had found.
I put on boots and cloak and crossed the Boundary some miles east of our camp, near the sea, that their Guardian migh: have the longer trip to find me. At first, I might just as well have been walking the halls of Castle Gundar, for there was not one of the creatures in sight. The moon was bright enough to guide me easily.