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“When you follow the path of swords there is no telling where it will lead. Do not be surprised if it leads you to other tribes, other countries, even other worlds...”
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THE PATH LED DOWNHILL. In the distance they could see the landscape changing, the hills and moors of their journey softening into a gentle undulation. They could see that the path was heading into a valley; the small trickle of water where they had filled their flasks was one of a number of tributaries that seemed eager to join together, splashing over rocks and carving out earth banks as if practising for more serious erosion that would take place later. Viewed from the moor the valley looked like the indentation of a branch pushed into soft dough, the hard edges of the fledgling valleys rounded off by a covering of light green ferns. The going was easy as they walked single file along the narrow path and for the most part they avoided talk and concentrated solely on the task of reducing the miles between them and their destination. “This is companionship,” thought Luan as they walked and he considered that he was lucky to fall in with Mack and Bridie, even though he really knew very little about them. This prompted a question and Luan caught up with Mack to ask it.
"Why did you act so shocked when Bridie told you what tribe she was from?"
Mack stopped and turned around for long enough to give Luan a warning glance.
"Maybe you should ask her," he said.
Luan hesitated, balancing the possibility of upsetting someone against his overwhelming curiosity. It wasn't long before he gave in and Mack shrugged as Luan pushed past him and ran to catch up with Bridie. The track had widened slightly and he was able walk next to her, occasionally ducking under branches and pushing away ferns as they made their way into the small valley.
"Tell me something about your tribe," he said.
"What do you want to know?" Bridie replied.
"Why is it called the Bani-Tivar? What does it mean?" Bridie stopped and turned to look at him.
“Don’t you know?”
Luan shrugged and shook his head.
“You might prefer not to know,” she warned.
“Really?” Luan smiled. “You’re going to have to tell me now.”
“Well don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Bridie smiled and they continued down the path.
"The lands of my people lie far to the north," she began. "We live on the shore of the great sea where the mountains meet the waves. We have no towns as such but live in settlements scattered along the inlets that the sea has cut into the land. In each one stands the hall of an Alfihar, a warleader and around the hall are the houses of his men. We are people of the sea and the Alfihar's pride is his ship, crewed by his war band, free men who have sworn to serve him. The ships serve in three ways. Mostly they’re just used for fishing, which is a bit dull even when hunting seals and other creatures of the deep."
"Sounds pretty exciting to me!" interrupted Luan. Bridie laughed and continued.
"Well it can be, especially in bad weather when the waves boom against the hull of the ship and the wind sings in the rigging. But what is really exciting is when the fishing nets are brought ashore and the boat is rigged for war. It's a fine sight when the shields of the war band crown the sides with colour and the flag of the Bani-Tivar flies proudly from the mast top."
"So, do you fight battles at sea?" asked Luan, trying to imagine it.
"Sometimes," Bridie answered, "but mostly the men go raiding up and down the coast. Generally, they head east, to the wild uncivilised lands."
Luan thought that Bridie's homeland sounded wild and uncivilised enough but thought better of saying so.
"You said there were three purposes for the ships?"
Bridie paused and then continued. "The third is a duty. A sacred duty given to our tribe many lifetimes ago. Do you not know what it is?"
"No," said Luan.
"We are the boatmen of the dead. In your tongue Bani-Tivar means ‘Death-God’."
Luan stopped and looked at her. Bridie looked back, her eyes serious. Luan felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He swallowed and cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry. They started walking again and Bridie continued.
"If you sail north over the sea, after two days and nights you arrive at an empty land. It is fair and green but nothing lives there, no birds, no animals and no people. No one has set foot there and returned to tell the tale. When our tribe first came from the east their small fleet of ships was blown off course by a storm and they landed there. It is said that at first, they thought to stay and claim the country for their own but in the depths of the first night they heard a roaring coming down from the north. A chill wind blew and frost began to form on the ground and the branches of the trees. Then in a cloud of snow and darkness a great ice bear appeared. A fearful beast as high as the tree tops with great claws that gouged the ground as it walked. All the people of the tribe fell to the ground in fear and waited for death for no one could fight such a beast. Then their leader, Alfihar, looked about and saw his people cowering around him and he stood and shouted a great challenge. The giant creature reached out its claw to crush him but Alfihar shouted "Stop! Great Bear, you are mighty indeed and we know you can destroy us with one swipe of your mighty claw yet let us live and we will worship you and serve you with honour." The beast paused and then spoke with a voice like the rumbling of thunder. "I am Bani-Tivar, the Lord of Death! What have I to do with honour?" Alfihar raised his voice and shouted again and said "But there is honour in death, if a man dies bravely, for his brother, or his wife or his child." And then the wind dropped and the cloud of darkness became light and before their eyes the great bear transformed and shrank until it resembled the form of a man of great beauty and his body was like gold and silver. "So be it," said The Lord of Death. "I will be your God and you will be my people and you will serve me until the end of days. But I tell you truthfully you may not dwell in the Land of the Dead and remain alive. So I will send you to go and dwell on the south shore of this sea and your sacred duty will be to ferry the souls of the dead from that land to this." Then he directed the tribe to sail southwards, and he made a fair wind blow their ships until they came to the land where they now live. And the tribe took the name of the Bani-Tivar after their God and their leaders have been called the Alfihar in honour of the first leader ever since."
"I don't know what to say!" said Luan. "That's the most amazing story I've ever heard."
"That's not all," replied Bridie, and she stopped and lowered her voice. "Sometimes at midnight, in the dark of the moon a bell sounds in each village. At that signal each Alfihar alone goes to ready his boat. The sea grows still and the wind dies away, and then a mist flows slowly down from the land. As the mist grows closer they say you can see glimpses of people and hear voices whisper like the wind in dry grass.
The mist flows over the sea and onto the boat and grows still. Then a breeze comes from the south and the boats move smoothly over a sea like glass. When the boats reach that empty land that lies to the north of the great sea, the voices in the mist rise again in expectation and as the boats touch shore the souls of the dead flow onto the land like a tide. Then the boats return, higher in the water now they are not laden with their dread cargo. And even though it is at least two days and nights sailing to cross the sea in ordinary times, the dark journey is made there and back in a single night!"
Once again Luan felt the tension between his own down to earth common sense and the part of him that responded to Bridie's story. It sounded so fantastical and yet he could tell that Bridie believed every word she said.
They had reached a point where the gully widened out. The small stream they had been following downhill dropped over a small fall to join with a larger stream that ran down from their right. They were in a narrow steep sided valley, its floor scattered with boulders and rocks and its sides lined with ferns and tangled thickets of trees. Luan and Bridie stopped and waited for Mack to catch up, taking the opportunity to drink from the clear water of the stream.
There was a wider path that ran down the valley on the other side of the stream and Luan decided to wade across to it. About half way across, the stream divided and ran around a large stone standing in the river. Luan stopped, curious about a strange hole that went right through the stone about a foot from the top. He stooped and peered through and was surprised to see he had a clear view down the valley and out onto the plains beyond. He stood and walked round to the downstream side and peered through the hole in the other direction. There, perfectly framed, was an earth mound on the top of the ridge. “This stone must have been set here on purpose,” thought Luan. “I wonder why?” He walked around to the upstream side again and placed his hand in the hole. Suddenly Luan felt again the dizziness and sense of discontinuity that he had felt when he stepped onto the burial mound. He staggered, gripping the stone for support and called out, but his voice sounded strange and weak. He felt sick and fell to his knees in the stream, letting go of the stone as he did so. As before the feeling passed as quickly as it came, but when Luan looked up the world had changed.
When Luan was very young, a troop of travelling players had performed in his father's hall. As Luan watched their dramas unfold, the exaggerated movements, the louder than natural voices, the make up sharply defining the faces, and the brightly painted scenery had made him feel the real world to be a pale shadow that was slipping away from him. Luan had been terrified and the grotesque images of the players had haunted his dreams for months. Now, as he looked up, the same feeling took hold of him and with it came the fear. He looked about wildly; the sky was more blue, the grass a deeper shade of green, the sound of birds overhead and the stream around his feet clearer and more resonant. He looked back for Bridie and Mack, panic rising within him. At first, he thought them gone, but then he realised that he could see their shadowy forms, pale and indistinct. They seemed to be moving unnaturally quickly and with a burst of insight he realised that for him time had slowed down. It was then that he heard the music. Coming from behind him and upstream was a voice lifted in song. Multi-toned, melodious and deep, the sound immediately quelled the fear that Luan felt and a sense of calm and wonder overtook him. He turned, and there walking down the track towards him was a band of warriors such as Luan had never seen before. They were pale skinned and fair haired and unclothed but for short kilts of leather. Not much taller than Luan, their skins were adorned with intricate patterns, each torso an individual labyrinth of whorls and lines. They each carried a spear and a long knife at the waist and their voices were raised in song. At first Luan thought they could not see him because they showed no sign of being aware of his presence. Then as they reached the point where he stood, the singing stopped. Luan felt the hairs on his neck begin to rise again but still the warriors paid him no heed until the last one, on the point of passing by, turned and spoke.
"Hail sword brother! Long has it been since one of the Klaideem stepped between the worlds. What news of the land of the young?"
Luan was almost too tongue tied to speak, yet he was scared to remain silent.
"I, I'm sorry," he stuttered, "I don't know where I am."
The warrior looked at him closely. Luan was acutely aware of the scrutiny. There was something ancient about those eyes even though the face seemed youthful.
"I see now that I was mistaken," the warrior said. "To one such as I, all of you look young. You did not mean to cross over did you?"
"No!" Luan replied. “What do you mean 'one such as you'? Who are you? And where am I?"
The stranger smiled. "To answer those questions would be a long tale indeed. My name is Zand and let us just say that long ages ago in your time I crossed over from your world to this, that you call the spirit world. Now I must go and join my brothers in the hunt, and you must go back. This is a perilous place, and I shudder to think what would happen if the being that we track found you."
"But I don't know how to get back!"
"Never fear," said Zand with a smile. "I will send you on your way," and with that he stepped forward and put his hand on Luan’s forehead.
