Kahyani: A Novel

By M. D. Morris

The Dajhanin are enigmatic people who live in the rugged Ojberdine-Haijlan Mountains. Ajlek, a member of this kind and gentle race, lived in the middle of civilization most of his life until he was called to action to help the Dajhanin. He is now Kahyani—their leader—and he has served as such for six peace-filled years … until now. At first, Ajlek believes random thrill-seekers are climbing into Dajhanin territory to create mischief, but he soon discovers that the problem goes far deeper than mere fun and games. To his horror, the trail leads all the way to the highest levels of civilized government and involves people capable of annihilating the Dajhanin. To stop what’s happening, Ajlek must go against the wishes of the Dajhanin and travel to the heart of the nation’s capital, where he’s most vulnerable—and where, if things go wrong, he could disappear forever. True, Ajlek is honorable and compassionate, but how far is he willing to go to defend himself and the people he loves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Nov 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483460130

Book preview

Weyland

KAHYANI

A NOVEL

M. D. MORRIS

Copyright © 2016 M. D. Morris.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

http://ajlek.com

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover Design by Margaret d. Morris

ISBN: 978-1-4834-6012-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-6013-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016917047

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 11/18/2016

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Author Biography

Pronunciation Guide

Dedicated:

To all who believe the world is filled with wonder far beyond what we perceive with our physical senses.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Many thanks to all who read the Kahyani manuscript and gave me feedback, especially my sister-in-law Dee, and my friend Jan, both of whom went through the book and gave me much-needed advice.

I owe a special debt of gratitude to my husband Doug who read through the book multiple times and gave me observations about logic, sequences of events, and practicality. I couldn’t have finished the book without him.

I would also like to thank everyone who took the time to read the first book in the Ajlek trilogy, (Ajlek: The Ajnastazzi of Weyland), and who encouraged me to continue writing. Their kind words have kept me going.

To all of you, I offer my deepest and sincerest appreciation.

CHAPTER 1

THE SOUND BEGAN AS A FAINT RUMBLE in the distance, growing with heart-stopping speed into a thunderous roar that blasted the treetops. Ajlek snatched his small son from the straw bed and scrambled through the doorway of their temporary shelter to his panicked horse.

Go! he shouted, launching himself onto Simaji’s back.

The speed of the tall stallion’s pounding hooves brought tears to his eyes as they raced down the mountainside, distancing themselves from the approaching helicopter. Ajlek wrapped his fingers through the chestnut mane and leaned forward to protect his son from flying debris, focusing his mind on the pilot of the aircraft. He took aim with a fury so explosive that the air surrounding them crackled with its energy—a weapon he hadn’t used in a long time. The helicopter abruptly turned away, the sound fading into the night as quickly as it had appeared.

Easy, fellow, Ajlek said, reining in his temper. He patted the broad shoulders as Simaji slowed to a stop, his sides heaving. It’s gone now.

He took a moment to gather his wits. It had been six years since he’d had to dig that deep, and he had hoped he would never have to do it again. He scanned to the thousands of Dajhanin already mounting their horses to come to his aid and assured them that he was in no danger. He was Kahyani—their leader—and as always, they dropped whatever they were doing to come to him, their drive to protect him taking precedence over everything else.

He glanced down at Marc’s blue eyes. It was just a passing helicopter, he said forcing a smile. We’re okay.

Was it looking for us?

I don’t think so. I’m not sure they even knew we were here. It just startled me.

They continued on, crossing from the Neutral Zone into the Haijlan Mountains as the sun pierced the canopy above them. The mountain was at peace again.

Ajlek closed his eyes, lulled into a quiet lassitude by a myriad of insects that materialized from out of the humus, the drone of their wings blurring the boundary between the rising terrain and his need for sleep. Marc, scarcely able to straddle Simaji’s broad shoulders, had already dozed off again, his blond curls plastered to his forehead with perspiration, his head bobbing to the rhythm of Simaji’s steps.

Autumn was indeed in full bloom along the towering peaks of the Ojberdine-Haijlan Mountains. The colors were vivid, even after an unseasonably warm summer, a precursor to a milder winter—Ajlek hoped. He smiled. During his first year after coming to live among the Dajhanin, he had been introduced to what winter could be. It was the first time in his memory that he had suffered such howling winds and bitter cold without the luxury of electricity and heat. He and Janis, the young woman who had accepted him as her husband before leaving Weyland, had spent the bitterly cold weeks in a big hut with his twin brother’s family. And while all of them had managed the confinement well enough, the experience had convinced him that he would have his own big hut before the next winter. His natural instincts had kicked in to help him overcome the extremes in temperatures, but the constant companionship and lack of privacy had worn on him. He hadn’t realized the extent to which he needed a few quiet moments to himself. Still, he had learned much from Ejlek and had taken away from the experience considerably more than he had contributed.

He had come to the mountains as a novice sorely lacking in knowledge of the ways of the Dajhanin, but had quickly adjusted. His twin and Lohni, his natural father, had been excellent tutors, easily helping him make the transition. In the six years since his return, he had learned their ways and had become a competent Dajhanin, comfortable with what was expected of him. It was his role as Kahyani, the fabled guardian, teacher, and defender of the Dajhanin, that still troubled him. The title carried intrinsic duties and responsibilities that were better suited to someone older and more experienced. He still felt awkward whenever mature, capable men far more knowledgeable than he was went out of their way to meet him, as though he was somehow superior to them. It was a notion he discouraged at every opportunity.

Life for his adoptive father had changed as well. Dr. Bill, the name given to him by the Dajhanin, had married Betty Hutchinson and now had two children: a four-year-old son named Will and a two-year-old daughter named Abby. Will and Abby were the reasons Ajlek had decided to let Marc accompany him on this particular trip. He had wanted Marc to get to know them, feeling that the more his son understood the people of civilization, the better he would be able to decipher the things he sensed there. The visit had gone well. Marc and Will had taken to each other instantly, so much so that when their time together was at an end, both boys had cried.

Ajlek wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him closer as they approached a particularly steep climb.

Still tired? he asked when Marc opened his eyes and rubbed his nose.

I’m okay, Marc replied, yawning broadly. When can we go back to visit Will?

Not before next summer.

Do you think he’ll visit us?

Someday, but not with winter so near.

Marc frowned. Don’t they like winter?

It’s the cold they don’t like, Ajlek replied. Will and Dr. Bill can’t control their body temperatures the way you and I can.

Marc’s frown deepened. Why not?

Civilized people don’t have a dajhia like we do. That’s one of the differences between us. When I lived there, Dr. Bill wore a heavy overcoat in the winter. He put gloves on his hands and boots on his feet. Sometimes, when the weather was especially cold, he even wore a hat.

We wear mittens sometimes, Marc said.

When we work in the snow, we do, Ajlek said. Thankfully, Janis is kind enough to knit them for us. We’re also lucky that we don’t need much more than a light jacket or vest. Anything heavier would be tiresome.

Can I have boots?

You don’t need boots. Ajlek said, grinning. The extra padding in your shoes is sufficient.

Marc sighed. I wish Will could come live with us.

That would be nice, but I don’t ever see that happening; he wouldn’t be happy in our world.

Marc slouched farther down in his father’s arms. Why do we have to be different? If we were more like them, we could all live together.

Ajlek’s sigh matched his son’s. Or maybe if they were more like us, he said, patting his son’s leg.

Late in the day, Ajlek pulled Simaji to a halt as they reached a break in the trees offering a clear view of the towering mountains to the west. The air was clear, the distant peaks already covered in snow.

Take a close look, Marc, he said. The Dajhanin have lived in these mountains longer than anyone can remember. The mountains are rugged, hostile, and dangerous, but we’ve learned to survive. Just as Will belongs in his world, we belong in this one.

His gaze shifted to a particularly impressive-looking peak known to the Dajhanin as Ghiladi, a mountain whose beauty had captured his imagination soon after leaving civilization. Its sharp, finger-like spires easily dwarfed everything around it, reaching high above the surrounding landscape as though trying to shed its earthly constraints and become one with the heavens. On a clear day, when the sun glistened off the snow there, the mountain almost seemed mystical.

Who lives on Ghiladi? Marc asked, following his father’s gaze.

I don’t know that anyone does, Ajlek replied. Lohni says it’s a dangerous mountain.

Why do you look at it so often?

Because I think it’s beautiful, and I like looking at it.

Marc chuckled.

Why is that funny? Ajlek asked, glancing at his son.

You think a mountain is beautiful.

Don’t you think mountains can be beautiful?

No. People are beautiful.

Ajlek laughed. People are beautiful, son, but so is the earth. Sometimes it’s so beautiful it can take your breath away. It can make you feel small and insignificant in one minute and move you to tears of wonder in the next. We’re fortunate we live in a part of the world that’s especially beautiful. It’s not good to take it for granted.

He nudged Simaji back to the trail, and they continued the climb.

As they crested the ridge before the next valley, Ajlek sensed a small group of men approaching from the north. One rider on a buff-colored stallion had separated from the others and was riding ahead. Ajlek recognized him as Ben, a friend he had rescued along with eight other Dajhanin from a lab in civilization years earlier. Ben was wearing a quilted vest over a long-sleeved shirt, evidence of the difference in temperature at the higher altitude where he lived. He was a young man, only slightly older than Ajlek, with sandy hair and mischievous blue eyes.

When Ben reached them, he halted his stallion. Welcome home, Kahyani, he said, grinning broadly. I’m happy to see you.

It’s good to be home, Ben. Will you ride with us for a spell?

As if you had to ask, Ben responded with a laugh. He pulled his stallion in beside them, his face a picture of excitement.

Ajlek studied his friend. In spite of his open grin, Ben seemed unsettled. What’s going on? he asked.

Ben shrugged. At the moment, a little too much to suit us, he said. Besides Aaron’s problems with a confounded helicopter hovering over his huts, Yhuri barely escaped a serious beating the other day.

Ajlek frowned. I don’t recognize the name. Who is Yhuri?

He’s Carson’s son, Ben replied. They live just up the hill from me. Yhuri was attacked while foraging for seeds, and while the youths who jumped him got more than they bargained for, thanks to his size and strength, it wasn’t lost on us how tragic it would have been if one of Carson’s younger children had been caught on the trail. Our response was possibly a little excessive, but we’re tired of being harassed for someone else’s amusement.

No one else was hurt?

No Dajhanin. After a few well-placed stones, the youths scrambled down the ridge rather quickly.

Ben slipped his stallion in front of Simaji when the trail narrowed again.

Easy, Simaji, Ajlek said when his irritable stallion bristled. Ben means no disrespect. Let him go.

Simaji snorted, and at first, Ajlek thought he might nip at the buff stallion’s flanks, but he let the injustice pass.

Thank you.

Ajlek followed Ben along the winding path, barely catching a branch before it hit him in the face, grinning when he heard Marc chuckle. He caught snatches of the meadow below them through the trees. The grass had already turned a golden brown and lay flattened against the hillsides where the changing winds had beaten it down. Animal trails led to a river that flowed through the center of the valley, merging where the river was shallow enough to cross.

The trees on the other side of the meadow were in full color, and near the top of the ridge, patches of white already stood out in sharp contrast to the dark granite outcroppings. Any hope for a mild winter evaporated from Ajlek’s head. It would likely be severe. He gazed at the distant peaks, wondering what the weather was like at his home.

Pretty much the same as it is there, his amused twin responded. Your family misses you. How long will you stay on the first ridge?

Not long, if I can help it, Ajlek replied. I’m ready to be home now.

Have you talked to any of the Dajhanin there? Ejlek asked. They were pretty upset last week.

Ben just filled me in. A group of drunken youths made sport of harassing one of our young men.

Noble of them.

Ajlek heard a soft chuckle from beside him and glanced at Ben, his eyebrow up in question.

I had forgotten what it feels like when you talk to your brother in your head, Ben said. I was simply becoming reacquainted with the sensation.

Ajlek grinned. I’ve missed you Ben. When are you coming to live near me?

Ben shrugged. The land I currently occupy suits me, Kahyani.

As the afternoon sun slipped behind the Fahrachen Mir, making the air damp and cold, Marc straightened. Someone’s coming, he said.

He pointed to a patch of trees along the path that disappeared up the hillside. A man astride a prancing stallion appeared, his dark winter clothing blending in with the thick evergreen forest behind him. He was a large man with massive shoulders and arms, his dark hair swept from his forehead by the freshening breeze. He had a broad face, a straight, prominent nose, and a grin that was visible even from a distance.

Ajlek patted his son’s leg. Good scanning, Marc.

Marc beamed. Who is it?

You remember Aaron, Ajlek said. He’s visited us several times since you were born.

As Aaron approached, a sudden gust of wind sent another shower of leaves into the air, some landing on his broad shoulders. Ajlek chuckled. There was no mistaking Aaron’s hulking figure. In the growing darkness, he looked like a grizzly riding a horse.

Good evening, Aaron, Ajlek called to the big man. What brings you down the mountain so late in the day?

Aaron gave a booming laugh. As if you didn’t know.

He maneuvered his horse alongside them and pulled Ajlek into a rib-cracking embrace. I’m here to see you, that’s what. I was concerned that if I didn’t come down the mountain to greet you, you’d scamper across this valley and disappear up the Mir before I could catch you.

I always stop by when I pass this way, Ajlek replied, checking his ribs.

Aaron turned his attention to the youngster in front of Ajlek. Hello, Marc. It’s good to see you back in the mountains where you belong. I was beginning to wonder if your father had decided to stop being Dajhanin and return to civilization.

Ouch, Ajlek responded in surprise. That was harsh.

Ignore Aaron, Ben called from behind them. His bad manners are from frustration.

Ajlek’s eyebrows shot up. What’s got you hot and bothered?

The same thing as everyone else, Aaron replied. The invasion of unwanted people. After what happened to Yhuri, we’re all on edge.

You took care of it well enough, Ajlek said.

That doesn’t mean we liked it, Aaron said with a snort. The strangers are limiting our freedom. We’re reluctant to let our wives and children travel the trails without an escort. They’re not happy, which means we’re not happy.

When they reached the first climb after the valley floor, and Aaron maneuvered his horse into the lead, Simaji’s ears immediately flattened.

"Let it go," Ajlek cautioned his stallion.

Simaji snorted, causing Aaron’s stallion to pick up his pace, distancing himself from the teeth so near to his flanks. The instant the path widened, Simaji lunged to the front, causing Aaron to pull his horse up or be bumped off the trail.

My apologies, Simaji, Aaron said, laughing. Sometimes I forget myself.

You’ll have to forgive Simaji, Ajlek said, shaking his head. He’s done nothing for two weeks but eat and sleep. It’s soured his disposition.

I’m well aware of your stallion’s disposition, Aaron replied. I had merely forgotten about it in the excitement of seeing you. It won’t happen again.

CHAPTER 2

AS AJLEK LED HIS COMPANIONS to the top the next ridge, he considered the recent influx of troubling strangers. He could only assume it was because of a book co-authored by Dr. Bill and a childhood friend in civilization, Celeste Winstead. Its purpose was to educate people about the Dajhanin and dispel the myth that the Dajhanin were dangerous. He had read it, and as far as he could determine, they had accomplished their objective—perhaps too much so. The book described the Dajhanin’s peace-loving nature, such that some people might see them as easy prey, an attitude reinforced by the past when many were taken from their homes and enslaved. Ajlek was determined that his people would never be victimized like that again.

He shot a glance at his son, who seemed to be handling the trip fairly well. Perhaps they should visit additional families before going home. He might persuade some of them to move deeper into the Ojberdines and away from the curiosity seekers of civilization. He had suggested it in the past, and many had actually picked up and moved, but in doing so, they had created a situation even more dangerous for those left behind. The remaining homes were now miles from each other, and the safety of close proximity was gone. Keeping an eye on them was a greater challenge for him, but he was determined not to force them. It had to be their choice.

He turned to his companions and slipped into their minds, taking the opportunity to expand their skills, something he often did when he was with them. He was pleased by what he found. They had improved dramatically.

Push beyond the limits of where you are, he said as he nudged them.

In only a short time they were scanning far beyond the Haijlan Mountains. Well done, he said. Keep going and you’ll have no limits.

Ben laughed. You make it seem so easy. Maybe I should move close to you after all.

I wish all of you would, Ajlek said.

Aaron sighed. I must admit that I’ve been thinking about it. What happened to Yhuri could have happened to any of us.

Well, maybe not, Ben replied from behind. Yhuri is a bit different.

How so? Ajlek asked, looking back at his friend.

Forgive us, Aaron said. We would not speak ill of Yhuri, but he’s not as sensitive as a Dajhanin should be. It’s a shame, too. He’s a good man who otherwise would be a fine catch.

When they rounded the last switchback before the top of the ridge, they spotted three men approaching from above, almost featureless in the growing darkness.

How appropriate, Ben murmured with a chuckle. Kahyani, it looks like you’ll get to meet our friend, Yhuri.

The three men slowed their horses and nodded to Aaron and Ben. The oldest of the three extended his hand to Ajlek. Welcome to the Haijlans, Kahyani, he said. My name is Carson. My friends have urged me to meet you for some time, but my commitments have prevented me from traveling to your valley. The young men beside me are my son Yhuri and a close neighbor and friend, Vic.

While Carson and Vic were slim and fair-haired—typical of the Ojberdine Dajhanin—Yhuri was quite different. He was slim, but powerfully built. He had the dark hair of the Haijlan Dajhanin. His steel-gray eyes were set wide apart and framed by long, dark eyelashes. He was a beautiful young man.

The pleasure is mine, Ajlek said, shaking their hands. He held Yhuri’s hand a second longer than necessary. I was sorry to hear about your recent trouble.

Yhuri shot an embarrassed glance at the men around him and dropped his gaze. Thank you, Kahyani, he said.

Ajlek placed his hand on his son’s head. This young man clinging to me is my son, Marc.

Carson nodded. Another Ajnastazzi, he said. Welcome, Marc. The more of you there are, the better for all of us.

Ajlek chuckled when Marc blushed.

Kahyani, have you made plans for where you will stay this evening? Vic asked. My home is not far, and my wives have an excellent stew prepared with yarrow tea to help wash it down. It would be an honor to share it with you and your companions.

That sounds wonderful, Vic. Thank you.

Vic turned his horse around and started up a well-worn trail, one long maintained by the Dajhanin. It was free of boulders and loose rocks. They quickly passed through a thick stand of trees where the scent of the evening meal wafted out to them.

Vic’s home was situated on the far side of a clearing, nearly a quarter of a mile off the main trail. Three huts faced the cooking fire, each constructed from tree branches, mjoika leaves, and thick river grass, typical architecture for all Dajhanin huts. Each roof was thatched and had a small cap in the center for venting.

In front of the huts, and under a thatched canopy were Vic’s two wives, each wearing schrocks—typical of all Dajhanin women. The schrocks were simply made, loose enough for layering if the weather dictated, yet, form-fitting enough to be attractive. The schrocks were covered with coarsely woven aprons that had large pockets in the front. Like Vic’s, their shoes had been padded against the coming cold weather. One of his wives was stirring the contents of a large pot while the other arranged vegetables on a wooden platter. Woven mats for sitting were already scattered in a circle on the ground around the fire.

Hello my dears, Vic greeted as the men emerged from out of the trees. We have an important visitor this evening.

He took each of his wives’ hands and turned them to face Ajlek. This, my dears is none other than the fabled Kahyani, the man to whom we all owe our present existence. But for him, there would be no Dajhanin.

He then gestured to his wives. Kahyani, this first stunning lady is Marcei, and beside her is the beautiful Carlin. They are the joys of my life.

I’m happy to meet you, Ajlek said, bowing to the women. You’re all that Vic says you are. As for my part in saving the Dajhanin, I was asleep during most of the fighting. You have Aaron, Ben, your husband, and a host of brave Dajhanin to thank for the positive outcome.

He glanced at Marc who was smiling shyly in anticipation of another introduction. This young man is my son Marc.

What a beautiful child, Marcei said, lifting Marc from Simaji’s back. It’s an honor to meet Kahyani’s son. Please share our evening meal with us. The mats are out and ready.

She led Marc to the fire and helped him settle.

The stew was wonderful—delicately flavored with wild seasonings, thick with mallow and mushrooms. It was served with large chunks of bread made from a mixture of flax, wild wheat and pine nuts. As the travelers ate, Carlin continued to refill their bowls until finally, even Aaron held up his hand.

I’m embarrassed that I was such a glutton. The stew was wonderful, but if I have more, you may have to cover me and leave me here for the night; I don’t think I’ll be able to move on my own.

Vic beamed with pleasure and turned to Marc. How was the visit with your civilized cousins?

Marc blinked in surprise as all eyes turned to him. He cast a glance at Ajlek for reassurance.

It was fun, he said. I played with Will.

And, who is Will?

Will is Dr. Bill’s son, Ajlek responded. I thought it would be good for Marc to meet him and know that not everyone in civilization is a threat to the Dajhanin.

It doesn’t take everyone, Carson said, quietly. The few we encounter are trouble enough. I don’t understand them.

I can’t say that I do either, Ajlek said. However, I might point out that the families already in the Ojberdines are not having these troubles. They’ve settled in nicely and are rebuilding their lives in relative safety.

Kahyani’s right, Aaron said, shifting his weight to get comfortable. I’ve been reluctant to make the move. This mountain has always been my home, but things are changing.

He put his hand on Vic’s shoulder. Not to put undue pressure on you, my young friend, but your home is dangerously close to one of the trails up to this ridge. If anyone is serious about bothering the Dajhanin, you and your wives could be among the first hit. There were once Dajhanin homes below yours, but they’re gone now. Kahyani keeps watch over this ridge, but it’s unfair to expect him to do it all when something as simple as moving to a new location will guarantee our safety.

This is my ancestral home, Vic said, quietly. My roots are here.

You’re roots will always be here, Aaron replied. Your bones can be returned here if it’s your wish to rest by your ancestors. However, it would be better if it didn’t happen this year. Your ancestors will understand.

I have a friend who moved recently, Carson said. He asked me to join him when he left. I may do so after this season’s harvest.

Ajlek caught the embarrassed glance Yhuri shot at his father, and curious about the young man’s affliction, he projected his mind into his body. Yhuri’s dajhia, the gland that defined the Dajhanin, was underdeveloped, and though it appeared to be producing a small amount of the daji hormone, it wasn’t enough to aid Yhuri in assuming an adult role in life. The blood vessels leading to the dajhia were constricted, and the gland was simply maturing at a slower rate than was typical. Yhuri would someday be a normal Dajhanin male, but it would take years.

Ajlek breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that the solution to the problem was relatively easy. He began the necessary repairs while the others talked.

Beside him, Marc yawned, loud enough that everyone smiled.

I think I should get this young man to bed, Ajlek said, glancing in amusement at his son.

Kahyani, please take my hut, Vic said, scrambling to his feet. I can find somewhere else to stay tonight.

I won’t run you out of your own hut, Vic. I can sleep under the trees and stars like the rest of my friends.

Vic’s face fell. It would be an honor, Kahyani. My hut isn’t grand, but it’s quite comfortable.

Do it, Ajlek, Ejlek said. It will mean a lot to him.

Ajlek sighed, wondering if he would ever become comfortable with the adulation.

Your offer is generous, he said. Thank you.

CHAPTER 3

WHEN AJLEK EMERGED FROM VIC’S HUT the following morning, the air was considerably colder than the evening before. The promised rain had crossed the mountain in a series of squalls and had passed over them during the night, dumping heavy rain into the Neutral Zone. He gazed into the trees where his friends had settled, relieved to see that Vic had taken pity on them and rigged a canopy to cover them. They had refused his offer of the big hut, preferring the hillside beneath the stately hemlocks.

Satisfied, he took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the early morning air. A low mist that would soon be burned away by the rising sun hovered just above the treetops—assuming the sun appeared at all. It often didn’t for days during the changing of the seasons. He glanced at the smoke rising from the fire. Vic was already up, and judging from the bubbling pot over the fire, so were his wives. Marc appeared from behind him and latched onto his leg.

Good morning, son, Ajlek said, placing a hand on his blond curls. Did you sleep well?

Marc nodded. I’m hungry.

Let’s take care of the necessities, and then we’ll see if any of the other men are up before we head to the cooking fire.

When they emerged from the latrine, Vic was just approaching the other men, eagerly rubbing his hands together. Gentlemen, my wives tell me that our morning meal is prepared and ready, he said. Please give us the honor of sharing it with you. They’ve outdone themselves.

Shortly after breakfast, the men thanked Vic’s wives and prepared to leave. Ajlek reached for Marc and lifted him to sit in front of him, chuckling when Simaji impatiently stamped a hoof, eager to be moving.

I am honored by your kindness, Ajlek said, turning to Vic’s wives. I hope to see you soon when you pass through the Valley of the Ajnastazzi.

The honor is ours, Kahyani, one of the women replied. We look forward to meeting your wives.

As Vic led them from his homesite, they formed a single line, navigating a trail that led farther down the ridge. Overhead, the sun was already burning a hole through the mist, leaving thin patches of blue shining through.

Where are we going? Marc asked.

I thought we might visit a few others on the ridge before going home, Ajlek replied.

He scanned ahead. Most of the remaining families had settled on the western side of the ridge, away from marauding invaders. To get to them, he would have to descend into the valley first, and then climb the next ridge farther to the north. Their homes were scattered a good distance from each other, which would add time to his travels.

Sighing, he scanned to the east, and then stopped, surprised to find a lone Dajhanin homestead uncomfortably close to the Neutral Zone. He sensed four women, but no one else. Troubled, he broadened his search for their husband, but failed to find him.

Whose home is just down the ridge from here? he asked, turning to Ben.

That’s where Tanner and his wives live, Ben said. He’s someone you rescued from overseas a year or so ago.

Do you know the trail down to his home?

I haven’t been there in a good while, but I think I can find it.

Please do, Ajlek said. I think we should check on them, and it won’t delay us all that much.

A mile or so later they pulled to a stop. Ajlek peered into the forest. There truly isn’t much of a trail here, is there? he said. Does Tanner ever visit other families?

Not often, Ben replied. We helped him set up his home when he first got here, but he was fairly shy. I think he didn’t want us to know how green he was. We watched him for a while, but his instincts seemed good, so we stopped worrying about him. We assumed he would ask for help if he needed it.

When was the last time you saw him?

It’s been a year at least, Ben said, scratching his chin.

They followed the narrow trail down to Tanner’s home, moving into the brush in places where the trail had been washed away. It was steep, and twice, Simaji nearly slipped. Ajlek kept a firm grip on Marc.

When the ground leveled out and everyone was together again, they continued through the trees to Tanner’s home, emerging into a small clearing where they found an overgrown field and a cluster of five huts.

Ben pulled his stallion to a halt. It looks as though the field wasn’t planted this year, he said with a worried frown. I know Tanner is new to this, but I can’t imagine him letting that go. He shook his head. I feel terrible. I should have made more of an effort to look in on him.

We all should have, Aaron said, his expression a match to Ben’s

As they made their way across the weed-infested field to the huts, Ajlek’s alarm increased. The hut in the middle was in disrepair, with much of the roof already fallen in. Two women stood in front of a meager fire stirring a pot and cutting vegetables. Two more sat nearby kneading balls of dough. They were quiet, each focusing on what they were doing, their expressions devoid of emotion. When the woman nearest the fire spotted them, she gasped and fled into one of the huts. The others scrambled to their feet, dropping vegetables and dough into the dust as they followed after her.

We mean no harm, Ajlek called to them, mentally quieting their fears. We’ve come to see if you need anything.

One woman peered out from the hut’s doorway, her eyes wide as her gaze darted from one of them to the other. She was slim–too slim, Ajlek thought. Her dark hair was pulled back behind her ears and tied with a string, making her doe-like eyes appear twice as large.

Where is your husband? he asked.

The woman hesitated before emerging from the hut. He isn’t here, she said, her voice quiet.

When do you expect him?

We don’t know; he left after the winter snows.

A murmur of astonishment sounded from behind Ajlek.

Don’t be alarmed, he said. We’re going to dismount and see what we can do to help you, he said.

He set Marc down in front of him. Stay close to the huts, he said. I may be distracted for a while.

He turned to the women. My name is Ajlek. My companions are your neighbors. You may even recognize them. If you’ll allow us, we’ll replenish your wood supply and leave you with enough food to last for a while.

The first woman nodded, glancing back at the other three who had finally ventured out to join her.

My name is Marsha, she said. This is Felice, Kertane, and Malie. We’re grateful for any help you can give us. We’ve waited for Tanner’s return, but . . .  Her voice caught and she dropped her gaze.

The fear and sadness in Marsha’s words nearly broke Ajlek’s heart. I’m sure he wouldn’t have left you this long without a good reason, he said. He’ll probably return soon.

He gazed at the decaying hut. We’ll start by repairing your hut, he said.

After the women directed the men to what tools Tanner had in his cellar, Vic and Yhuri picked through them and disappeared into the forest to find wood and peat for the fire. Carson worked with Aaron and tackled the hut, repairing the roof and a break in the back wall, muttering to himself when he saw patches where the women had tried to make repairs themselves. Ajlek and Marc took a sack from the food cellar and searched through the open fields for anything that could be used for food. As they neared the edge of the forest, they discovered a rich crop of mushrooms.

What happened to Tanner? Marc asked, following Ajlek through the trees.

I don’t know son, but I’ll certainly try to locate him. For now, we need to find enough food to hold his wives until others can share some of their stores with them.

Marc frowned. Why did Tanner leave?

Ajlek sighed. I don’t know that either, but I doubt he meant to be gone this long.

What if he doesn’t come back?

Someone will take his wives in so they’ll have a safe place to stay.

Could it happen to you?

It could happen to any of us, son; but, just so you know, I’m pretty good at defending myself, and I keep a good eye on what’s going on around me. Tanner, like many of the other men on this ridge, is still polishing his defensive skills. But, let’s think positive. We may find him.

Marc nodded and returned to collecting the mushrooms, his face serious, and his eyes troubled.

They took what they found to Tanner’s food cellar, which was typical of what Ajlek had seen at most Dajhanin homes, except that Tanner’s was nearly empty. Much of what was there was old, some showing signs of having been gnawed on by rodents.

He sighed. Let’s go see what else we can do.

When they returned to the fire, the damaged hut was well on its way to being repaired, though the roof would take a while longer. Vic was helping Yhuri stack a sizable amount of firewood near the fire pit.

It’s not right that these women are alone, Vic said. Suppose I suggest they stay with me until Tanner returns. Even with what we’ve found, it won’t last long; and winter is coming."

I think that’s wise, Ajlek said. Thank you.

He turned to the women, who were standing off to the side holding each other’s hands, wearing bewildered expressions. What can you tell me about Tanner? he asked.

Marsha relaxed under Ajlek’s smile. He’s a kind man and a good husband, she said. She hesitated, her eyes filling. He would never have left us for so long unless something had happened to him.

Please tell me more, Ajlek prodded, stepping closer. Anything you can think of will help. What does he look like?

As Marsha and the other women lovingly described Tanner to Ajlek, he scanned their minds, getting a sense of what they felt when he was near. He then cast his mind beyond the ridge and scanned, searching for anyone who matched what he sensed from the women. He frowned. Tanner was not in the mountains.

He then scanned into civilization, finally sensing a man who fit the description, and who, from his emotions, was most likely not there by choice. How had this happened?

He found two men near Tanner and suggested to them that it was time to let Tanner go, and that they should drive him to Weyland where he belonged. He then touched Tanner’s mind to let him know that he had been found.

Throughout the rest of the morning, he remained distracted, monitoring the activity in Weyland and the conditions in the Neutral Zone, making sure Tanner would have no trouble once he got there. Around mid-day, when he sensed that Tanner and the men were approaching their destination, he turned to Aaron.

I’m going down the mountain again to meet Tanner and bring him home. Will you look after Marc until I get back?

Aaron frowned. I’ll be happy to look after Marc, but I’d feel better if you took someone with you, he said.

Ajlek sighed, turning to Ben. Will you ride with me?

Certainly.

Ajlek sensed his twin’s approval and turned back to Marc, whose eyes were wide with apprehension. I’ll try not to be too long, son. Aaron will look after you and keep you safe. He smiled. Maybe he’ll even tell you about the time he saved my life.

Marc spun around to Aaron. You saved my father’s life?

Aaron regarded the large blue eyes and smiled. Yes, as a matter of fact I did, but what your father failed to mention is that I couldn’t have done it if he hadn’t saved mine first.

Will you tell me about that, too?

I suppose, Aaron said, chuckling. It’ll keep us occupied after the sun goes down.

Simaji appeared moments later and pawed the ground, his head and tail held aloft with great dignity. The effect was spoiled, however, by the remains of a large clump of grass still dangling from the side of his mouth, complete with roots and soil.

Simaji, you’re too much, Ajlek said, laughing as he removed the dirt from the grass. You’ll end up with colic if you eat all that.

Ben and Ajlek worked their way down the heavily wooded ridge into the Neutral Zone, emerging at a point where the trees thinned enough to allow sunlight to pass through. Ajlek reached to pat Simaji on the neck, and then straightened, holding his hand out for Ben to stop.

Do you feel them? he asked.

"Feel what? Ben said, straightening.

The civilized men up ahead, Ajlek replied. If we’re quiet, they’ll pass without noticing us.

A group of about eight men on horseback appeared from out of the mottled shadows. They were dressed in jeans and jackets and appeared to be in no great hurry, passing within yards of Ben and Ajlek before disappearing over the next hill.

Ajlek frowned. They had no packs or camping gear, he said. They’re also riding in a part of the Neutral Zone with few trails. What do you think they’re doing?

Possibly exploring, Ben said. It could be innocent.

Ajlek shook his head. Let’s get moving. I want to intercept Tanner before he gets too far into the Neutral Zone on foot.

CHAPTER 4

BILL STEDMAN CLOSED THE GARAGE door and made his way to the screened porch, deftly avoiding the puddles in his yard left by the latest storm. The front had blown through and dumped about an inch of rain, making the air sticky in the unseasonably warm temperatures. He grumbled as he stomped the mud from his shoes before entering the house.

There you are, a voice from the dining room called. I was about to phone the hospital to find you.

Sorry, Bill said, planting a kiss on Betty’s lips. How close is dinner?

You have just enough time to change.

He climbed the stairs to his bedroom, and then dropping his keys and wallet onto the dresser, he slipped into his jeans and a sweatshirt. He heard the doorbell ring and quickly slipped into his sneakers and socks before heading for the stairs.

Bill, there’s someone here from the National Security Board, Betty said, her eyes wide. "He says he wants to talk to you.

Bill’s eyebrows shot up. He descended the stairs and headed for the living room where he found a man in a dark business suit standing at the window gazing into the yard. The man was tall and slim, his short-cropped hair just showing signs of graying around the temples. He stood perfectly still, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned when Bill entered the room and extended his hand, smiling warmly.

Good evening, Dr. Stedman, the man said. I’m David Hall, the chairman of the National Security Board. Forgive me for intruding so near your dinner hour. I’m on a tight schedule and have to be back in Manchester Heights before tomorrow morning.

No apology necessary, Bill replied. Please have a seat.

I’m interested in discussing the book that you and Miss Winstead wrote about the Dajhanin, David said, settling into a chair adjacent to Bill’s. I gather from reading it that you raised a Dajhanin child?

I did, although Ajlek is now in the mountains living with his natural family, Bill said.

David nodded. I can see how that experience qualifies you to write about the Dajhanin, but how did Miss Winstead become involved?

Ajlek and Celeste have been friends since childhood, Bill said. They’re still quite devoted to each other.

Does Miss Winstead still live in Weyland?

No, she’s in medical school now.

David grinned. Like her father—keeping it in the family.

Well, somewhat, Bill said with a chuckle. Celeste plans to specialize in internal medicine instead of psychiatry—mostly because of Ajlek. She claims she can never match his expertise, so why try.

Ah, your son’s sensitivity to other people, David said. Tell me, did you ever witness this sensitivity?

Many times, Bill replied. When Ajlek was still here, I sometimes depended upon it. Ajlek could tell me who was pulling into the driveway before they even stopped their cars. He was also able to sense where people were without seeing them. He knew when they were at home, and could find them if they weren’t.

He did this regularly?

He did it without even thinking, Bill replied. It was as natural to him as breathing.

How much more sensitive are the Ajnastazzi than the Dajhanin? David asked.

Bill hesitated. I don’t know that it’s ever been measured. Why are you asking?

I find it interesting, David said, smiling. Since the Dajhanin War, we’ve heard rumors about the Dajhanin having the ability to mentally control people. Have you witnessed that?

Mr. Hall, the Dajhanin War was lost to the Ajnastazzi. Three hundred years ago, there were many Ajnastazzi around. It was they who pushed our armies back, not the Dajhanin. Unfortunately, they’ve vanished, and now only a few remain.

He tilted his head to the side. I’m intrigued. Why is the head of the NSB in my living room asking about my son and the Dajhanin?

Please, David said. I’m only gathering information.

For what purpose?

We like to know our neighbors, David said. It helps prevent misunderstandings down the road. Do you by chance know where your son’s family came from?

Not really. My son’s grandfather never mentioned where he grew up. Unfortunately, thanks to a man named, Oslo Caraway, Ihlian hasn’t been seen in many years. We assume he’s dead.

I’m so sorry.

Thank you, Bill said. Caraway caused more pain and misery than anyone will ever know, and not only for the Dajhanin. Whole towns here in civilization are still trying to recover from what he did to them.

David nodded. Do you believe the stories about the Ajnastazzi using their minds during the war?

I do, Bill said.

Why didn’t you write about it in your book?

Bill smiled. The book is about the Dajhanin, not the war. We wouldn’t have been at war with them in the first place if we had respected them and left them alone. They were simply defending what was theirs. Greedy developers were trying to move in and build on their land.

I understand, David said. Does your son visit you often?

Not often enough to suit me, Bill said. Usually about once a year.

Do you think I might meet him when he comes again?

I can tell him you’re interested. The decision will be his.

How do you keep in touch?

We don’t. It’s usually a surprise when he comes.

Isn’t that risky? What if you’re out of town?

Bill smiled.

Ah, he would sense it, Hall said, returning Bill’s smile. Where does he live?

I’m reluctant to give out that information, Bill said. My son suffered enough while he was here without trouble following him to his home in the mountains. Even if I were inclined, which I’m not, I couldn’t tell you exactly how to get there. The Dajhanin use many hidden trails that are difficult for us to find; and wandering off those trails or trying to forge new ones is dangerous. The land is hostile to people who don’t know it—and I don’t.

I don’t mean to pry, David said.

He stood and reached into his pocket, pulling out a business card. If he is agreeable, would you have him call me when he comes again? Also, if I have your book with me next time, perhaps you’ll kindly sign it for me? I would have it with me now, but when I left home this morning I couldn’t find it.

It would be an honor.

Bill watched Hall pull out of the driveway and turned from the door, fingering the card in his hand. What was that about?

Dinner’s ready, Betty said, appearing at the doorway. What did your visitor want?

I’m not really sure. He asked questions about the Dajhanin and Ajlek.

Maybe your book is having the effect you wanted, she said. The more people who understand the Dajhanin the better it will be.

Bill smiled. That would be nice.

He glanced at the card again and followed Betty from the room. Where are Will and Abby?

Already at the table.

CHAPTER 5

WHEN DAVID HALL PULLED INTO HIS DRIVEWAY, he glanced at the upstairs windows of his home. His wife and son would be asleep. At least he hoped his son was asleep. Davie had been staying out too late recently. Phyllis had insisted that he change schools, and had sent him to the J. B. Grant Academy, an exclusive private school for boys. David still wasn’t convinced the move had been a wise one. He wasn’t terribly impressed with his son’s new friends. General Gage’s son Gregory was a student there–a sullen sort of boy, much like his father.

David dropped his keys on a small table just inside the door and headed for the small bar in his study. He poured a brandy and collapsed into a brown leather recliner, a Christmas gift some years ago—great for reading. When he reached for the mail his wife had left on the side table, a noise caught his attention.

Phyllis stood in the doorway tugging at the sash to her pink satin robe. Her dark hair, normally brushed behind her ears, had fallen around her face. It had all the earmarks of someday becoming spectacularly silver in color. He smiled when she scuffed over and sat on the arm of his chair.

What are you doing up? he asked, giving her a light kiss on the lips. I tried to be quiet.

I was reading and I heard you come in, she said. I thought I’d see how your trip went.

The drive over the mountains was horrific, but the visit with Dr. Stedman was nice. He was quite open with me. He promised to sign his book for me if I have it the next time I see him. I couldn’t find it this morning when I left.

Phyllis grimaced. Sorry, I had it. I’ve just finished it.

And?

It’s fascinating. I don’t know that I believe it all, but it does make one wonder, doesn’t it?

What don’t you believe?

I don’t know, maybe that the Dajhanin have such powerful minds and can control people. It seems a bit farfetched to me.

David smiled. What if I told you it’s true and that it’s how they defeated us in the Dajhanin War?

I’d say you’ve been at the sherry too long, Phyllis said, smiling. People have been claiming that for centuries, and we’ve yet to see any proof of it.

Fine. You’re probably right.

Phyllis’s eyebrows shot up. Do you believe it?

Dr. Stedman certainly does. He’s seen his son do amazing things that could give credence to the rumors.

Phyllis snorted. Where is this young man? I could use him when Davie comes home with one of his attitudes.

Did he give you trouble today?

Not after I grounded him. He thinks he’s being deprived since we don’t supply him with everything his friend, Gregory, has.

Ah, General Gage’s son, David murmured. I had hoped he might gravitate to a different set of friends."

I wish he would. Phyllis said, slipping down into the chair with her husband. Tell me about Dr. Stedman’s son. Is he still around?

No, he moved back to the Ojberdines to be with the Dajhanin.

Smart boy.

Her expression became wistful. I did enjoy reading about how gentle the Dajhanin are, she said. It’s nice to believe that people like that exist. It also makes me sad that we’ve treated them so badly. If what the book says is true, then they really haven’t deserved what we’ve done to them.

David gazed at the liquid still in his glass. That’s one of the things we need to explore. Are they really that gentle, and can they do what the book claims? I hope to meet the young man the next time he comes home. I think I’ll also make it a point to meet the two Dajhanin still living in Weyland.

The following morning, David sat at the breakfast table, sipping his coffee and going over his agenda for the day. He looked up as his son entered the room. Good morning, Davie, he said. Sleep well?

Fine, Davie muttered, opening the refrigerator and peering inside.

What did you say to your mother yesterday that upset her?

Davie shrugged. I don’t remember.

He removed the milk from the refrigerator and pulled out a box of cereal. He then straddled the kitchen chair and poured what looked like half the contents of the box into a bowl before adding the milk. After sullenly stirring the cereal around in the bowl, he looked