WOT Adv 252 - Fiznak

== The Wheel Turns ==
Moments later, Fiznak stood on the wall of the small city, his cloak flapping in wind, a retinue of guards and subcommanders with him. Apparently, with the betrayal of the late commander, the Dai'shan had put him in defense of the city's walls. Blood and Ashes, but he hoped this Daelyn had some battle skill beyond Fiznak's own rudimentry knowledge!

Fiznak frowned as he wrapped this cloak more tightly about him. Wind was not unusual along the blight border, where the weather was seldom temperate. Though in the summer there were days where there was no wind, where the air was hot and humid and devoid of nary a flutter of movement. It was during those days that untold monstrosities sometimes ventured south from the blight border to consume some poor hapless fool who didn't know he should run from a 30 foot long shaoul worm. He stopped... what was a shaoul worm anyway? He didn't know. But the term must be something from one of Daelyn's memories, he reasoned. He pondered this strange new life he was witnessing. Who was this Daelyn, and why was he living his memories?

He shook his head and studied the trolloc camps outside the walls. In the darkness of the forest's border he could see their cookpot fires glistening by the hundreds, like stars in a sky fallen to earth. Peace, but what would tomorrow bring?

"Tai'manshima," a sub-commander with a lean face in his middle years, saluted in the traditional fashion of fist to heart, interrupting his thoughts. "What orders from the Dai'Shan?"

"Food and drink will be sent to the walls," Fiznak addressed the retinue. "We expect another attack, so order the men to sleep on their swords. If needed, I shall be in my quarters. See to it!"

"Yes Tai'manshima!" The men saluted and scurried off, giving the necessary orders. Fiznak surveyed the scene once more and then turned down from the wall and went among the city's winding streets to see his Shae-ree.

Some moments later he entered his bed chamber, looking at the back of a beautiful young woman sitting in a chair facing a mirror and combing her hair. She was tall with high cheek bones, slender and well muscled as most borderlander women were, her raven-hair shone in the lamp's light. She had not seem him yet and he wondered what he would say to this woman. A plain shortsword in a plain scabbard and sword belt lay draped on the bed post. All the women knew the sword and many were armed in the borderlands. Indeed many were the stories of men and women fighting side by side against the shadow. He sighed and shifted his feet, wondering what to say.

Hearing him, she slowly put down an ivory comb and turned to face him, her face was somber but then began to glow under a shy smile of perfect teeth. She wore only her shift, with a cloak atop to keep out the night chill.

"Peace, Daelyn!" she stood gracefully and came near him. "You are all right?" Concern painted her face and she studied him up and down.

He scratched his hair and felt where it was matted down with crusted blood. Red flakes. It must be his own blood. Light, but she was beautiful!

She stood near him and traced his face with one finger, studying his face, his eyes. He felt he could sink in a pool made of those dark eyes and drown a happy man doing so. He could smell the scent of her. It was the smell of sunlight on a meadow in spring time. Warm and lingering as those wild mountain meadows could be. "I was worried, my heart." She breathed warmly and leaned in against him, resting her head against his breast, clinging to him.

Light, now what? Fiznak wondered.