The Glittering Eyes of Hate

by David Kiel


<Later - Zera's office>

"Our best healers have the care of her and she'll not die for lack of
trying on their part."  Naomi told him.  "I can only say how sorry I
am that one of Norwall's riders was responsible for this tragic
occurrence.  We don't usually greet strangers in our midst with cold
steel, however we do ask that strangers explain their presence in our
domain before we offer them the freedom of the warren.  So ... how did
you come to be on Norwall's ground?  And what are you looking for
here?"



    Greylocke stood and walked over to the wall, his hands on his face
trying to push away the worry and fatigue.  He did not trust these
people, they seemed to rule this place he had landed in, yet they
killed their own people.  What kind of ruler had people so cold
working for her?  People who murdered without consideration.  He
shuddered, people like him.

    He looked over to where the women sat awaiting his answer.  Like
it or not, he needed their help.  Their healers were Erins only hope.

    "I am called Greylocke.  It is the only name for me that Shiver
remembers.  I remember none.  I arrived here at the end of a transport
who's beginning I cannot recall.  I don't know how long we were in
transit, I remember nothing of where I came from or who I am.

    "I apologize if we have violated your territory, I have honestly
never heard of you.  We have been going from village to village doing
small jobs in exchange for our keep.  We've been here for about two
months now.  That's all I know, until your rider attacked, I had heard
only rumors of a place called Norwall.  I didn't know we were
trespassing."

    "This isn't about trespassing, it's about the incident..."

    "To be honest I have answered all the questions I will about that
attack.  I'm sorry this situation disturbs you but it was your man
that attacked us.  As soon as we can be sure that Erin will recover I
will leave, and you won't have to worry about this wilder anymore."

    Zera looked up just as Naomi's discussion with Greylocke came to a
close, and once again he demanded what he felt to be appropriate
justice for his companion.  Naomi apologized for J'tal once again and
turned away.

 [See 'Explanations' for Zera and Greylocke's conversation.]

Zera took a deep breath, centering herself.  "If you wish, there is a
room next to Erin's in which you could sleep.  Or, if you prefer,
there is a second bed in her room that you could use."

    The fear and anger of the last several hours wore away under the
combined assaults of these two women.  Zera's suggestion was a good
one and he realized in all the questioning and arguing he had yet to
see Erin.  Her father had been right, he had turned out to be very bad
for her indeed.

    "Thank you."  He muttered as he left Zera's office.  He walked
through the strange stone corridors.  They seemed to have an odd
familiarity, the color was wrong, but the feel of the place.

    <She was right.>

    <That's why it was such a hard argument.>  He caught some images
from Shiver, standing on the rim of a caldera flanked by three of the
warrens dragons.  <What have you learned?>

    <These are a different people.  I like them.  They don't fight
natalon, it is anethema for them to fight dragon to dragon.>
Greylocke was glad of that at least, he still could not remember
specifics of his life but he could remember the deep sadness from his
friend when they flew natalon.  <There defenses are not even remotely
capable of holding attack.>

    <If you had to, could you escape?>

    <Yes.  If need be I could make the green untouched.  Ten hunters
on natalon could take this warren.  Do we fight?>

    He could feel the worry from Shiver, the sadness he remembered
from long ago resonating.  <No.  We don't fight dragons anymore.  If I
can help it, we don't fight anything anymore.>

    <What about J'Tal?>

    <If this Zera is right about him.  Then this was all a horrible
mistake.  I don't want to kill anymore Shiver, it will be up to him.>

*    *    *    *    *

    The stone was fresh cut, the grave was shallow.  He stood there,
just inside the shadows as the last of the stragglers departed.  They
had said their good-byes, they had wept, now they left to try to fill
the hole left in their lives.

    He stepped forward, a single flower in his hand.  Kneeling by the
grave, the soft earth pressed under his boot, he laid the offering
across the mound of soil.  They had long forgotten he had once lived
here, with these people.  The years of fighting had erased so much,
now what would become of this.

    The girl who died would not go alone to her sleep.  The ones who
killed her would follow, only then would the killing stop.  He left
the flower at the grave and walked away, fingering the blade of his
knife.

*    *    *    *    *

    He had slept an hour, perhaps two.  It was hard to tell under all
this rock and Shiver was never the best source for the passage of
time.  Erin was pale, her bloodless face and shallow breathing
concerned him deeply.  She had been so vibrant, full of life and
curiosity.  Everything he touched seemed to come to this.  He thought
this world would be different.

    The villages had been.  Life there seemed idyllic.  The warren was
like he expected.  All he remembered of dragons was violent, they
fought, their riders fought.  And so far this place was no different.

    He got up to take a walk, it might be days before she woke, if she
woke.  He roamed those oddly familiar corridors, trying to keep
himself calm.  He even passed the room of J'Tal, catching the
withering glare of the man's wing mate.  The old emotions flooded
back, he had touched Erin's soul for a moment, seen the beautiful
person inside.  It was hard to imagine her attacker as anything but
cold and evil.  Hard to picture his grief, the loss of a wife and
child.

    He passed the door, kept walking.  It was hard to change, even
without the memories, the emotions were there.  He couldn't remember
what he'd done, but he remembered how he felt.  It was hard to resist
the urge to hurt J'Tal.  The choices he had made before had been
wrong, this time he would make better.

    He heard Zera's voice, soft and soothing.  Like the girl he had
met in the wild, the one just concerned with life.  Not the hard one
lecturing in her office.  He moved in that direction, looked through
the door

*    *    *    *    *

    The halls echoed with the screams.  He watched the thin smile
crease the gaunt man's face.  An ancient vow was being fulfilled.  As
the man lay on his deathbed, listening to the agonized screams of the
poisoned.  The last of the line he had sworn to outlive.

    He could almost imagine the garish figure, struggling against
death only so long to see another son precede him.  Clawed fingers
anchoring his soul to this world in a last pathetic act of vengeance
and hate.

    He looked at the gaunt man's eyes, seeing the brightness and
energy that hate brings.  He had seen the same in battle, in the
desperate eyes of the struggling condemned.  In the belligerent gaze
of rebellious slaves.  But never so vivid as this man, a lifetime of
hatred and rage shone from those eyes as he listened to his enemies
screams.  A poison they could not cure in time to save it's victim.  A
pain unlike anything else the guild could make.

    The gaunt man smiled as the screams died out.

*    *    *    *    *

    Zera held his arm and led him away from the room.  "I must ask
that you remain in Erin's rooms.  I don't want you disturbing the
other patients."

    "Those children..."

    "...are none of your business.  This is..."

    "Hold on.  I have been very patient here.  I have listened to you
and Naomi talk at length about your devotion to peace."

    "This is not the place..."

    "You had your speech, I'll have mine.  You claim to be peaceful,
yet greeted me with drawn knives.  You chastise me for wanting revenge
while your people seek the same.

    "Since coming here I have heard of the murder of this Lacey, the
destruction of a clutch of eggs, the slating of a mans family.  I have
seen a young girl knifed and now children suffering from albenith
poisoning."

    "Albenith?"

    "Albenith.  I don't know why I remember that, but I do.  I know
how long it takes to kill and how painfully it does so.  I would
almost certainly be willing to agree that your people are less violent
that mine, but even on the blackest part of my world, albenith would
never be used on children."

    "What do you know of it."

    "I know I've made it.  It's only used to kill when you desire to
watch your victim suffer.  The antitoxin is so complex it can almost
never be mixed in time.  I haven't been here long, miss.  But to be
honest, I just don't see any evidence of this compassion you speak
about.  Just more of the same hatred and murder."

    "Wait..."

    "I'll stay away from the other rooms.  I intended no disrespect.
My condolences to the parents of those children, and to the rest of
you for living in a place like this."

[Tag, Jill: and quick too.]

NRPG:  Hi, Les.  I have a feeling I might have broken some rule about
dragon violence, let me know if that's the case.  I don't know what
you intend with the children but if an antitoxin gets in the way of
that then one of the ingredients that Shiver remembers wont exist in
this world.  My reading of teleports require more than the image of a
single plant for teleport so that shouldn't be able to get me home
anyway.

    Ben, I was planning to work Galen's keeping an eye on me into this
post, but no such luck.  Feel free to drop by Erin's room for a chat.

Respectfully submitted,

Arclight (David Kiel)

Greylocke and Shiver, Dragonlands-Norwall
ENS Martel Inquez, SCI, USS Callisto
Kierelle of Tear / Tar Valon
Lady_Marshall Brynn Phenm-Qirat of the Imperial Seanchan Forerunners
Adrian of Cairhien, WiT.


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