The Lioness of Shadi

12 - The Scorpion's Well

The drumming of Vanushe's hooves hit a rhythm that soothed the worst of Ilati's nerves. Riding was still not a comfortable experience, particularly after doing so for hours upon hours, but the knowledge she was in motion towards a goal gave Ilati a reason to continue. Morning broke across the eastern horizon, a gleaming golden disk shedding its light across the sea of grass all around her. There was little cover for miles in any direction, only flat land and the occasional thread of water, blazing brightly under the light of Ninshe's child.

Ilati drooped in her saddle, shoulders rolled forward as she tried to keep her eyes open. She felt utterly spent, yet the road continued. Her horse grunted now with every stride, a sign that Vanushe was just as desperate to rest.

Finally, as the sun completely departed the horizon to make its climb across the sky, she slid from the saddle, too tired to continue. Ilati lay back in the grasses surrounding a twisting little stream, aching bones and muscles soothed by the cool earth beneath. She wanted to curse Eigou for sending her to chase down his vision. However, that would have required energy that she no longer possessed. She fought to keep her eyes open as Vanushe guzzled stream water with abandon.

How could she even say she knew where she was going?

Perhaps it was time to imitate Eigou. This was his vision, after all.

She closed her eyes tightly and dug her fingers into the soft soil like roots. Ilati tipped her head back and spoke the name Eigou had invoked when he showed her the growing grass. If it had worked there, perhaps it would help her here.

It was slow, not the instantaneous flash of insight that Eigou's command had been. A quiet, tremulous sensation washed through Ilati first, as if the grass was timidly testing her resolve. Ilati pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly through her nose, sinking down into the sensation as the barriers between her soul and the souls of the grasses faded.

—her roots running down into the earth, spreading wide, drawing life from the soil, leaves reaching ever upwards to the sun—Ilati tried to picture the well in her mind, a tree bearing the scar of a lightning strike with roots curled around water—cool, deep, pooled amongst the tangled roots and ringed by mudbrick, shaped by the touch of warm, rough hands, waiting for—

Ilati's will frayed as she started to sense the well and disintegrated before she could get more than those fleeting sensations. Still, it was enough: the roots had drawn her towards the horizon of the setting sun. It was strange, to feel that expectation clinging to something as simple as water. Then again, if it truly contained wisdom, perhaps some spirit dwelt in it. Best of all, it couldn't be far if someone as weak as her could sense it.

"Vanushe," Ilati called, forcing herself up. Her arms quaked under her own weight after a day's exertion followed by a completely sleepless night. The bow slung to her saddle would be useless if she came across any foes.

The old horse looked in Ilati's direction grudgingly, grass strands slowly vanishing behind Vanushe's lips as she chewed. The mare's coat was sweaty and stained by mud on her legs from their travels. Ilati knew she hardly looked better herself, covered in horse sweat and her own perspiration, mingled with the clay-like mud of Kullah.

Ilati caught hold of the saddle, using it to steady herself. "We walk together. You may graze when we reach it. Just a little further." She didn't know if the mare understood a word she said, but she would treat Vanushe like a person until proven otherwise.

They pressed on together for another mile, drawing closer and closer to the copse of trees to the south, no doubt clustered around some water source. They rose taller than the others, almost towering, like no other trees in this part of Kullah. The twisting branches all interwove, as did the trunks, as though...it was all one tree.