The settlements of the Kabdath are scattered here and there among the Karûn Kabdath, the green foothills of the looming Dagnath Nebren, Mountains of Darkness. Having been cast out of their dwellings in Kabadkabâ, the first thought of Grekkonanaskhon and his people was to seek shelter with their nearest neighbours, the Kabdath of Kalípo Kalhondrim. It was several days’ journey thither, and all the long miles had to be travelled on foot by the straggling train of Kabadri, carrying possessions or children, leading donkeys, or driving goats and cows. The body of Hannartikhoth, wrapped in its state of icy sleep, was conveyed on a cart drawn by an ox. It was fortunate that the weather was mild and dry, for the exiles had to put up makeshift shelters by the roadside for the night, feed themselves as best they might, and attend to all the needs of children and animals. The Kabadri’s mourning for the loss of Hannartikhoth and for their exile was tempered slightly by the expectation of a welcome into the mansions of their kin the Kalhondri where, they believed, there would be space for them to settle.
Kalípo Kalhondrim is a whole mountainside full of limestone caves, made fair and comfortable by generations of Kabadka inhabitants, and fortified by a strong outer wall with only one gate. Grekkonanaskhon and his companions were filled with hope when, after several days of travel, they caught sight of Kalípo and gathered on the wide beaten space outside the great gate. Grekkon knocked at the gates with his staff. The voice of a guard was heard.
‘Who comes to disturb the repose of the Kalhondri?’
‘We are exiles, Minlári of Kabadkabâ. We come to ask for shelter of our kin of Kalípo, for we have been put out of our dwellings at Kabadkabâ.’
The Kabdath are a close and loyal people, so the Kabadri of Kabadkabâ expected an immediate warm welcome, and compassion for what they had suffered. But instead there was a long silence. At last there came a second voice:
‘It is Mezendrâkhon the Guardian who speaks. What warrant have you to enter among us?’
‘Are the consuls Berdumenarkon and Tezendirâgon there? We are known to them; they will vouch for us.’
‘They are not with us. Their time of office has ended. I, Mezendrâkhon, am Guardian for the Deep Master.’
Hearing this, the Kabadri of Kabadkabâ were greatly disturbed. It seemed that some change had come over the Kabadri of Kalípo. But their need drove them.
‘We beg admittance. Nightfall is near, and we are ill-equipped to sleep in the open.’
‘There is one test to take before we open our gates. If you are willing to receive the Yoke of Negobith you may join our number.’
‘The name of Negobith is evil. We were the servants of Dreygan the Frostgiant, but he has cast us out. Why should we accept another yoke? We wish only for a safe place to make new homes for ourselves among our kinsfolk.’
‘The age of the giants is ended. Negobith the Master of Ombros has arisen to rule the Northlands. All must bow to him. You can join us if you swear to receive his yoke when his servants make their visitation. Or you can stay in the wilderness and be outlaws.’
When they heard this, the Kabadri of Kabadkabâ began to dispute among themselves. Some were for receiving the Yoke of Negobith, if only they might enter into a safe harbour and not have to wander in the wild. Others feared the name of Negobith, and declared that they would rather die in the wild than place themselves under his lordship. Almost they came to blows among themselves. But at last Grekkonanaskhon called for peace.
‘My brothers and sisters, Kabadri, never have we fought among ourselves. This is itself the doing of Negobith. Let us peacefully go our separate ways. Let those who desire to enter Kalípo on the terms offered by the Kalhondri, do so. But as for me and my family, we shall be free and wander in the wild if need be.’
Then one-third of the Kabadri of Kabadkabâ swore to receive the Yoke of Negobith, and Mezendrâkhon the Guardian opened the gates of Kalípo for them. The other two-thirds of the folk stood outside, lamenting yet again the hardships that had fallen upon them, and watched their kinsmen, with all the animals that belonged to them, enter the small realm; and the gates were shut.
Then said one of the Kabadri, named Pedrekkarpon, who had travelled in those parts:
‘Not far from here there is a settlement of the people called Hyúvandri, the Living People; though I know not why that is their name, for they live least long of all the nyandri. But perhaps they will allow us to take shelter with them for a while, and perhaps they will even welcome our dwelling with them, for they are a very simple people, and we might teach them many skills.’
To this they all assented, and led by Pedrekkarpon they continued their journey into the late afternoon. On a hilltop they saw a settlement of thatched wooden houses, and surrounding it a wooden palisade. They assembled before the gate of the settlement, and Pedrekkarpon called out:
‘O Hyúvandri, we are exiled Kabadri, and are on our way to find a place to settle. We beg shelter with you for this night at least, for we fear to spend it in the wilderness.’
From within the gate the voice of a man replied:
‘I, Ketumar, rule this town of Uxul. Do you bear the Yoke of Negobith? We will admit none who do not bear that Yoke.’
‘By whose advice do you make that rule? We were the servants of the mighty Dreygan Firunganga, but he is no more, and we bear no one’s yoke.’
‘We have learnt from the hawk-headed ones, whom all mortals fear, that only nyandri who bear the Yoke of Negobith are to be trusted. They will return to us soon and give us the Yoke. Get you gone before they come and scatter you!’
At this second naming of the Yoke of Negobith, the Kabadri of Kabadkabâ were once more greatly dismayed, for they felt that the Kúmi Netári had set the world against them.
Then they turned away, still taking with them the body of Hannartikhoth, and looked for a place to spend the night.
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