Family: Lhex's Favorite Joke

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Flashback: Summer, 506 AV

Duvalyon was hazy on his geography, but he did not recall that the Redstones were located on Syna's burning ass. He leaned his back against the rock that provided him shade and let out a long hiss. Beside him, his Eyktolian desertbred shook its head and snorted.

"Why are you uncomfortable?" he muttered, "You were born in this shyke-hole."

The Symenestra hated traveling to Eyktol. The boat ride was wretched, crammed so close together in such rank spaces and then to be spat up in Yahebah. Ahnatep was at least somewhat cultured and Eypharians only regarded Symenestra with an uneasy distaste. But in Yahebah, that pious nest of Benshiras, inhabitants swore and crossed the road when he approached. Well, he didn't care for them much either. Granted, he was there to steal a Benshira for his brother, but they didn't know that. Therefore, they had no confirmed reason to keep him from the Spiced Tent, throw out his food while it steeped, or screech when he asked directions.

Procuring the trade routes of the Tents of Leboath from the Basalom line took the better part of a week. A week spent in manual labor in the vineyards, trimming wild vines that crawled up the sides of the winery. It was tedious, but it paid for lodging. Duvalyon cajoled, bribed, and bartered for the Tent's whereabouts. Just when he was about to turn threatening, a Benshira obliged him.

"They'll be at the Redstone Formations up north in twenty day's time to meet with the tent of Fallah from the line of Havid. My cousin married into Fallah's Tent. Horse traders the whole lot."

Duvalyon almost shook the man out of sheer frustration. The Redstones required another miserable boat ride, followed by a trek into the inhospitable desert.
He'd made it, though. The only thing left was the waiting.

The Symenestra tried to stem his acute discomfort with the heat by reminding himself why he was there in the first place. (Part of it was for his brother, but he was by and large an ass.) Semelia, one of the few things he loved, was looking forward to a niece. Simple enough, until she attached her caveat.

"Duvy," she had begun, "Any surrogate you bring our family would be wonderful. I know it." Her expression warmed with affection as she said that. When she reached for his hand, though, he knew the discussion was not over.
"But if you can, I would like a Benshira, one from your breeder's line, if possible." Here she looked at him so adoringly he couldn't even begin a word of protest.
"I ask this, because I want this child to have something of you in it. I want to look at it and see my family." Her grip on his hand tightened and he knew he was done for.
"You are my family, Duvy."

If it was anyone else, he would have flatly refused and said, when he threw a dog a scrap he didn't want to hear how it tasted. Everything turned to stammers and resignation when Melia was involved, likely because she rarely asked for anything.

So here he sat, wedged between rocks to avoid being skewered by sunlight. The Symenestra stood and stretched, watching the horizon for signs of the horse traders. If the Benshira lied to him about the meeting place, he was going to baste him in poison. As Ovek would have it, Duvalyon didn't see any telltale ridges in the distance, but rather, the beginning of a Hikza moving merrily towards his location.

"Zlynge."

Duvalyon reached for his horse's lead, pulling him towards the nearest cave. The storm was moving faster than he thought. After tying off the horse, he ran back out to grab what fell from the saddlebags in the struggle.

"Neva! Where are you? Hikza! Hikza!" Came a high voice from the ravine beside him.

It was in Shiber, but Duvalyon understood enough. He glanced down into the canyon, where a little Benshira girl was tripping over her robes and throwing her baskets aside. The Hikza was going to slice through the ravine and rub off her skin.

The Symenestra watched for a moment. There was something fascinating about final struggles. He'd seen so many, but they never ceased to entertain him.
Some other force of his personality jackknifed into his thoughts and he was kicking off his sandals to climb down the sides of the gorge.

Reaching the girl was simple, persuading her was not.

She screamed and made warding gestures towards "the monster", yelling over his explanations. Duvalyon looked at the approaching storm, it was too close. His final argument was pointing at the dervish of sand. Unmoved the girl started to scramble away.

He hated children for just this reason. Logic had little power over them. Brute force, though, was always a winner. Roughly snatching her up in his arm, Duvalyon began to ascend the cliff face. If she wanted to struggle now, she'd become a greasy smear on redstone.

His grip on the girl was sure as death, even as they waited in the cave for the storm to pass. Duvalyon had gone through the inconvenience of saving her, she was going to give him something in return: the whereabouts of her Tents.

By the storm's end, the girl's disposition toward him had altered, another strange quirk of children. There was no wheedling required. The girl, who insisted on being called "Li-Li", was tickled by the concept of a ride back to her tents. She had a pet monster to show everyone now. Neva never had a pet monster, she would be so jealous.

As they neared the tents, an unforeseen nervousness began to jitter in Duvalyon's stomach. He dismissed it as a side effect of desert fare, but he still found himself subtly grooming.

[Hilana]

The tents had been settled for the day, with most of the travel done at night to escape the heat of Syna's rays. Leth was far gentler to travel under, after all, especially when you were making great treks across the Burning Lands. And with the tents set up and resting commencing, the children were free to disperse. Within reason, of course - they needed to stay nearby. Hilana, being the old spinster of the family, a bachelorette at the ripe old age of 22, often took babysitting duty in addition to her other chores. She didn't mind. The children were often more interesting than the adults.

She'd warned them to stay close. You didn't live in the desert your entire life and not learn something about it. The sudden summer sand storms could come and go as quick as anything. There were sometimes a few warning signs of the imminent danger, but those were gut instincts you learned to harness as you got older. Besides sticking close, they were to stay together. If you separated, and got lost, it was going to be a lot harder to find them, she'd explained it until she was hoarse. They got this lecture every time. And usually it stuck. She just said it anyway to make sure it was between their ears.

She'd been right, too, when the Hikza had come up. The little ones had been ushered into the caves, and a head count had been performed. And Leiah, or Li-Li, as she liked to be called, was missing. Hilana had tried whistling for the girl, twisting her tongue and letting out the long, piercing whistles that worked for distance communication. She'd climbed up on Chaya, her blood bay mare, and guided the horse out of the cave, looking and calling for the child until the sandstorm had forced her to take cover. When it was out, she'd got the mare moving again, and checked in with the rest of the family. No sign of her. So she'd set out again.

"Li-Li!" the devil-eyed Benshira called as she made her way through and around the cliffs, checking cave upon cave. "Li-Li!" She let out one of the long whistles again. She was seriously going to have to get another hawk... and get better at falconry while she was at it. This might have been somewhat easier. But as it was, she didn't and it wasn't, and so there was nothing she could really do right now.

As Duvalyon and the child were making their way towards the Tents of Lebaoth, a figure appeared on the horizon. They'd heard it before they saw her, from the long whistles. She was wearing a light traveling cloak to keep the sun off of her, but in her haste, the hood had come off, leaving thick, red-brown hair spilling from the hood. She made her way towards him, relief on her features at the sight of the child, which faded only slightly at the sight of the Symenestra holding her in front of him. Hilana steered her mare towards them. "Li-Li. You found her," she eyed Duvalyon. "Thank you." She reached an arm out to take the child.

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Duvalyon was mildly surprised at the Benshira's relative graciousness. Perhaps, nomads were less adverse to stranger races than city dwelling Benshira. Nomads were likely accustomed to murderous peoples and nature's lethal capriciousness through their travels. What was one more dangerous thing to them?

Different colored eyes on this one. He idly wondered if that was a marker for some weakness or fault in her blood. But her hair had a pleasant hue and her seat on the horse was capable. Out of habit, he considered human females' suitability as surrogates. One never knew when opportunity would strike.

"Yes." He answered simply. "She was in the ravine when the Hikza came."
The Benshira gestured for the girl and Duvalyon wondered whether he should keep his grip on her for collateral. That was a Symenestra way of thinking, and he had to bypass his inclinations if he was going to be remotely convincing. What would a benevolent person do? They would behave nobly (stupidly) and pass on the child.

Though it pained his better judgment, Duvalyon fit his hands under the girl's arms and lifted her towards her cousin. While he minded his claws, he still lacked a gentler instinct. Li-Li was extended towards Hilana, like something soiled or dead. He'd spent more time than he liked with the child already.

"She's very..." He thought of the inane stream of words that poured from the little thing without encouragement or pause throughout the entire ride towards the tents.
"... social."

At this point, oblivious Li-Li spoke up, "I want to show him to Neva. He climbs walls. Neva's never found anything like that. He's even better than the dead eagle Aahren found."

Duvalyon's face fell mildly flat. Better than carrion, his standing in the Benshira hierarchy was steadily rising.

[Hilana]

Duvalyon may have been sizing Hilana up for her suitability as a surrogate, but Hilana was sizing him up for something else indeed - just what sort of threat and danger he posed. The biggest danger was that he had the child. And while she could absolutely try to whale on him with a sling, he had the girl. It rendered the point as moot. She would have to see how the situation panned out. Just go with the flow, really. That was all she could do.

Blue and green eyes watched as he finally handed the girl over, and Hilana set the child securely in front of her, watching the other one rather than Li-Li, and wrapped an arm around her, holding the reins. The other hand rested on her leg. There was a sling in the pocket of the cloak, and if she needed it, well... now she had the girl. But he didn't make a move yet, even as Hilana got the girl settled, and that would have been the best time to do it. Her guard remained up. Symenestra. You stayed away from them, and you didn't turn your back on them, either. "Thank you."

The young woman was debating what to do, running through her options now that she had the child. First, it put her on the defensive side of any fight if one broke out. He apparently had saved the child, so surely he was owed something. But the problem was what, exactly. The last thing she wanted to do was lead the beast back towards where the tents were set up. That put them all in danger. There was no love for the Symenestra there, especially not after her mother's harvesting. She could try to lose him in the desert and in the caves. But he was also riding a Desertbred --and a good horse, too, Hilana knew one when she looked at them-- and that would only complicate matters further. Besides, she didn't know just how many of them he was traveling with. This could be a trap.

You didn't associate with them, but you didn't turn your back on them, either. Her quick thinking was interrupted at the Symenestra's comment about how social the child was, and she sighed inwardly. Li-Li's social graces were lacking, but her own had been that way when she was that age. But even she was far more likely to chunk whatever she could at anything like this. Then again, Li-Li hadn't been raised by a slightly neurotic aunt who went absolutely crazy at the mere thoughts of Symenestra. "She's quite friendly," she agreed with him. "And means... well." She sighed inwardly at the comment about the dead eagle, and personally disagreed, but she wasn't going to say that, of course. She gave the girl a squeeze, a warning to stop flapping her gums.

"In return for saving Li-Li's life, please, come with me and share our meal tonight," Hilana smiled at Duvalyon. There was nothing for it. Go this way. Keep an eye on him. If trouble happened... then the entirety of the Tents would deal with it. And this way, she could keep an eye on him. She started Chaya up to a walk with a bit of a movement with her heels and a click of her tongue. "May I ask your name?"

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Being thanked was embarrassing, so his reply was half mumbled.
"You're welcome."

He'd rather forget that he'd done something benevolent, it made him feel weak. Duvalyon consoled himself with the idea that it was all a part of a grander scheme, merciless cunning he could be proud of. Whether he would have helped the child regardless was not a discussion he wanted to have.

It was interesting to watch the Benshira. How she oriented her horse to where he stood, the careful evenness of her tone and economy of gesture. Benshiras were nosy, superstitious and opinionated, but he'd never say they were stupid.

A meal? Now that was surprising. Benshira equated a meal with a social or familial connection and were selective about who dined with them. The last Benshira surrogate he stole wouldn't even eat bread he gave her on this principle. The girl's offer wasn't entirely sincere, though. Technically, he couldn't really share a meal unless the other person could wait an hour or the fare was soup.
He wore a brief wry look as the girl was probably recalling this fact.

"Thank you. I accept the invitation."
He made no other comment as he nudged his horse into a trot. He wasn't the best rider, but he managed to stay upright thus far. Granted it was hard to throw a Symenestra off anything.

Introductions were stilted, as to be expected. If he hadn't been carrying the child, the Benshira would have either fled or thrown stones. Now, she was obligated to pretend he was a person.
"Duvalyon Hellebore. And you are?"

The tents were not as far as he thought, their colorful roofs visible after they crossed a dried stream-bed.

[Hilana]

Hilana had been somewhat hoping that the Symenestra would not take her up on an offer that had been made strictly out of politeness. But he had taken her up on it, and there was nothing for it now. She supposed she could have simply offered some sort of a reward, but then she wouldn't exactly be keeping an eye on him. Chances are, there would be two meals tonight... simply to ensure that no one ate with their... guest. She was going to have to make sure that at least part of that goat was eaten tonight. That would work. Fulfillment of offer and at the same time, a clear line being drawn.

Duvalyon Hellebore, was it? It reminded her of the plant. Lying occurred to her, but seeing as he was coming back to the Tents regardless of how much she disliked the idea, and she didn't know just how much the child in front of her had spilled. "My name is Hilana." She encouraged her Desertbred to a trot to keep up with Li-Li's newest find.

One way or another, the Benshira mused, this was going to work out to be all her fault. She was certain of it. There would likely be no easy sleep for anyone until they met up with the Tents of Fallah, and the Symenestra had been seen on his way. They didn't have far to catch up with the rest of the caravan, settled as they were for the day, and once they were in seeing distance, Hilana let out another round of whistles: two long, two short, and two more long ones. Chaya's ears twitched at the whistles, but she was well used to them. That round meant that Hilana was there, as well as a warning. "What brings you this far from Kalinor?" Not that she didn't already have a good idea. People remembered Symenestra snatching their wives and daughters, after all.

The whistles brought Benshira out of the tents, and Hilana eased back on the reins, asking Chaya to slow, and then stop. She deposited Li-Li with her mother, and followed the glances towards the Symenestra. "This is Duvalyon Hellebore," she introduced him. "He rescued Li-Li from the Hikza," she told them.

One older woman took one look at him, and positively screamed at the name. That was the devil-spawn that had killed her sister. Hilana sighed. This was going to be a very awkward night.

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Hilana What? Duvalyon inwardly fumed. He had either found the tents of Fallah or Leboah. For all her chatter Li-Li had been vague on parentage. Grilling her for information he would acquire eventually would put the child on guard, though.

At Hilana's question Duvalyon absently answered, "I'm here on a personal errand."
That sounded a bit ominous, he needed to clarify.
"I have something I feel obligated to deliver to the Leboah Tent." Strangely, this was true. He felt odd keeping it. The sentiment behind the gift made him squirm.
"It recently came into my possession as I turned eighteen. What follows the delivery…" He shrugged, "I am unsure."

Duvalyon winced at the shrill whistles. "Falim", was evidently not annoying enough to make a proper greeting for this Tent. Several minutes and he was already irritated. He was out of form for harvesting, and the desert clime exacerbated this. A Symenestra on the hunt needed to have a combination of charm and ruthlessness. Right now he was feeling more uncomfortable than anything. Taking a breath, Duvalyon reminded himself of his goals and tried to adopt a courteous calm. Melia was counting on him.

The whistles drew Benshira out from their fabric cloisters: shawled women, bearded men, curious children. All with crystalline eyes and tan skin bestowed by desert sun, a stark opposite to his pallor and burgundy eyes.

Then came the shrieking. It startled him a little, mostly because it made his horse jittery. He thought of Kalinor, where an introduction was followed by an inquiry as to one's health instead of unadulterated screaming.

Duvalyon let the woman wail a moment, bearing it with an expression of polite nervousness. He glanced to Hilana, but felt no help would come from that corner.

"Please don't scream," he made a calming gesture, "I'm not here to hurt anyone, and it upsets my horse." He added almost apologetically, "Hilana invited me to share a meal."
There, it was their hospitable girl's fault he was at their threshold.

The Symenestra alighted his horse. It was rude to loom over people and it showed his clear intent to not leave. Without thinking, he immediately offered a hand to Hilana to help with her own dismount. It was a habit acquired from riding with his sister, a gentler woman than the rough nomads he was surrounded by.