Vidnî and Arbros bade the three reclaimed followers of Ketumar to sit down beside them and tell their stories. Refreshments were brought to the Place of the Stone. Then Thánrad and Níbar looked to Rógat to be their spokesman, and he began:
‘We are sons of the Lost Tribe, O Queen and Prince, I mean the Vurwë Yamudúna. Our fathers and mothers were found in the desert and brought to Thrâyeldim by Father Ingos, and they were schooled in the husbandry of horses and other animals by the glorious Thendâ.’
At this point Arbros nodded and smiled with pleasure.
‘Later, our tribe was besought by Father Ingos to help him save the Laukonardi, a tribe who had been enslaved by the witchfolk of Valkamet. We carried the Laukonardi away in our wains, but Valkamet was burnt to the ground and the Valkari scattered into the heart of the Forest of Nanôr. And so, ever since, the Valkari have hated us.
‘Now we are a wandering tribe, riding horses, driving wains, and pasturing our beasts as we go. And we decided, centuries ago, to separate into three part-tribes, the Eskenári, the Esperári, and the Estelári. Long ago the Estelári passed into the southlands and now wander near the seashore, far from the reach of Negobith. And the Esperári journeyed westward and found wide pasturelands beyond the great western lake, Fleswen-ta Féore. And the part-tribe of which we are sons, the Eskenári, dwell in the east of Thráyeldim, for we love the plains where the Thendâ roamed.
‘But those parts are not far the witch-realm of Nanôr, and in the times of Dreygan’s tyranny the Valkari many times came forth on moonless nights to ensnare Eskenáka men, women, and children, for they desired to have again an enslaved folk to serve them, as they had had in Valkamet. They bound them with thought-runes and dragged them into the dark woods of Nanór. All who could work were made to labour for the Valkari, just as the Laukonardi once had been. But the children — the little children, who could not labour…’ and here he broke off, overcome by his feelings.
‘The witchfolk wanted the children — for the rites of Negobith.’
He shuddered and gazed at the Dûmieldári with wide eyes.
‘Of these rites it is impossible to speak. They are a stain on the character of the twelve tribes.’
All remained silent, as Rógat sipped wine and recovered himself.
‘And now the Proud Prince Prámiz has founded his city in the east, to establish the realm of his accursed father Negobith. The Witchfolk have been compelled to become his allies and his agents. Not with complete agreement! For the chief of the Valkari, Murnag ta-Valka, hates her son Prámiz. She always favoured her other son, Groiznath — but you say he lies in frozen death by the seashore. What will be her vengeance when she learns of it, I wonder? It matters not, for they are all bound in allegiance to Negobith. He scans their minds, it is said, by a fearsome power he has, that they call Darksight. So when they ensnare our people, being no longer permitted to keep them as slaves, they send them to Magéraz Urlan-fên to labour there. And that is how Thánrad, Níbar, and I, your servants, came to serve in Magéraz. We and our families were all captured by the Valkari as we herded our flocks. We men volunteered to become guards under the command of Ketumar — or more truthfully, we were compelled to do so. But our wives and children remain in Magéraz.’
Queen Vidnî said:
‘Your plight fills us with sorrow. We shall take counsel straightway to help, if in any way we may. But pray tell us: the little children! You say that now when they are captured they are sent to the City with their mothers and fathers. But what happened to them before the Accursed One returned?’
Rógat passed his hand over his eyes.
‘I cannot say. No one knows for certain. Rumours of horrible things reached us. And as soon as it became known — about the little children, I mean — our people wanted to save their children. So, when the Valkari came to capture a party of our people, they would give their children to any Hyûvanwa who might be nearby, or simply throw the babes into the bushes. They even preferred that their children should be given into the hands of strangers, or die in the open country, than that they should fall into the hands of the Valkari. You may picture in your hearts the anguish of these mothers and fathers and these children. Émarul Sápha be thanked that Prámiz has ended that terrible trafficking, though captivity in Magéraz is as hateful as it was in Nanôr.’
Arbros said:
‘Your pardon, good Rógat. Your words have stirred a dark memory in my heart. As you spoke of children being put into the hands of strangers, it seemed to me that I remembered just such a thing from my own infancy!’
And Vidnî said:
‘And I too, dearest Arbros! I thought it was only a nightmare that I had. I have seen myself crying out while a weeping woman pushes me into the hands of a rough man, the very one who called himself my uncle when we lived in Uxul! Surely that woman was my mother whom I never knew.’
Arbros replied:
‘And I had the same evil dream, or so I thought it. It was a man who was weeping and lifting me into the arms of the woman in whose house I lived in Uxul — and for whom I laboured.’
Rógat said:
‘Then, if you will pardon me, Lord and Lady of Dúmiel, your mothers and fathers must surely have been daughters and sons of the Eskenári, and they saved your lives by giving you to villagers in Uxul. And so you and we are kin. For our people were accustomed to pasture their herds in that region, until many were ensnared.’
Now the Queen and the Prince wept, and the three men wept, and so did Thilfri and Lansenet, for they too were orphans, specially chosen by the Entelláka maidens as fitting companions to the Kwéni.
Now the people of Tídris did not know, though her two companions were privy to the secret, that Queen Vidnî of Dúmiel was with child by her beloved consort, Prince Arbros. For they two loved each other dearly and desired more than anything to have children together and care for them as they themselves never had been.
When all had recovered themselves, Arbros said:
‘It grieves me that our unhappy mothers and fathers may yet be languishing somewhere in the clutches of the Witchfolk, if they have not long since perished. But now it behoves us to give thought to your plight, O brave captives from the evil city. We cannot stand by and do nothing to deliver your wives and children from their captors!’
But Vidnî said:
‘Arbros, how? We have no great army with which to assault that hateful place! And you know why I cannot assist you.’
Arbros replied:
‘Dearest Vidnî, we must draw upon the knowledge that our friends here have of the shape and the ordering of the evil city. Somehow we shall find a way to enter and take away these poor folk, and, if possible, other captives.
‘But first, let food be brought to our guests and then let them be given fitting lodgings and new clothes. Tomorrow we shall take counsel.’
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