#74 - Home Again Home Again

The weather had held almost.  It was the very last day of travel, home to Innéthel and the roads had been very clear.  Now the snow fell thick and fast so it was hard to see the horse in front of you.  Even the elephants were disappearing into the dense white wall.

Ahrimaz rode next to Teel, buried up to his nose in his great coat, mildly confused where they were.  In the Empire they would already have been at the outer city wall.  This undefended city messed with his head.

He could smell the tanneries, faintly since they were downwind but there wasn’t a breeze to really blow the stink anywhere, so it sat in damp puddles of air gradually spreading.  They were in the similar place in Innéthel in his world.  About a good two hours ride.  On a good day.

Today they’d be lucky to get inside at the House of the Hand before dark.  He rumbled that information to the two Ambassadors and got relieved  thunder back that he and Yustiç could feel up through her hooves.

She was used to it now and only tossed her head a bit.  “I am so glad we’re home,” Ahrimaz said to Teel who nodded.

“It feels like home to you now?” He said and Ahrimaz 

shrugged against Heylia’s weight on his shoulders.

“Enough.  More than anywhere else in this world.”

“You required the Stag Lord and the bulk of his men go ahead last night.”

“I did.  They could travel faster.”

“Do you mind me asking, as a friend, why you’re avoiding him?”

Ahrimaz pulled the scarf down from his face and glared at Teel who gazed back, calmly.  “It’s that obvious?”

“It is.”

“Well, I’m attracted to him.  This trip has thrown us together hard and… and…  I can understand why Ahrimaz loves him.  I dare not fall in love with the man.  If I am ever sent back, he will be my torture victim, not my lover.”

“And if you are not?”

They rode in silence for a while and out of the white there came a faint creaking of mill wheels, still working even in the dead of winter, the sluices kept clear by the grace of Aeono.

“Then it would still be best if I treated him and Yolend and the rest of the family like an old uncle with a sketchy past, who needs healing.  Not loving.”

Teel didn’t push him on it and Limyé, riding just behind, nodded.

**

“If that’s Cooper’s Quarter and the Glassworks over there we’re nearly there,” Ahrimaz said as the snow began to ease up, letting buildings and fires and gas lanterns actually drive the dimness back.

“Indeed.  I hope the Ambassador’s Quarters will be to their taste,” Teel said, throwing a look back at their dim, hulking shapes in the snow, their coats heaped with white flakes, enough to completely bury Ologbon on Jagunjagun, turning their already mythical shapes into something surreal, unimagined by any human being.

“I think they’ll be glad to rest,” Ahrimaz said.  “After all the obligatory cheering crowds and short parades.”

They turned carefully along the narrow street that led up to the horse barn and Ahrimaz felt a huge knot loosen in his guts as he recognized the portico and the enormous sliding door.  It was closed but people leaped to open it as the Captain hailed them.  The gaslamps turned the snowflakes gold as they swirled in the gust of air from inside and they melted.

The door didn’t open straight into the ring any longer, but was a long corridor that let the horses be led off to the stables on the left and the big slider groan shut behind them.  The moment it was closed the temperature hit Ahrimaz between the eyes and Heylia melted off the back of Yustiç, purring.  He and everyone else were shedding their coats and sodden hats and the elephants had space to shake themselves. 

Once he could open his eyes again against the spray of water and melting snow, Ahrimaz grinned.  “This is more like the temperature we need!”

The corridor wall slid open into two enormous doors and the warmth and light poured over them.  There was no bare wall showing, no bare sand.  The riding ring had been transformed into a hothouse garden with plants and flowers and grass and small trees in raised pots all around the edges.

One of the Liryen priestesses had clearly begged the Goddess for warm water for a small pool bubbled in the centre of what had been sand.

Ahrimiar and Wenhiffar stood beside the Hand, Ahriminash, who came forward, holding out both hands.  “Ambassadors Didara and Jagunjagun, please be welcome as long as you will, to Innéthel, and this your Embassy should you like it.”

Ahrimaz stepped back to pick up his coat and found it already hung on a hook.  Ologbon had slid down and begun unlacing elephant boots.  Despite the fur lined boots both Didara and Jagunjagun had suffered from cold feet.  Ahrimaz went to Didara and she ruffled his wet hair with her trunk, even as she addressed Ahriminash in her best Innéan.  “We are astonished and pleased to be so welcomed, Hand,” she said.  “I shall have to make a story song about your garden in the snow!”

She stepped out of her booties into the warm sand and rumbled a groan of relief that Ahrimaz was certain only he heard.

“Please rest and refresh yourselves,” Ahriminash said.  “Formalities can wait until tomorrow.”

“Of course, Hand.”

Ahrimaz straightened to find himself enveloped in a double hug from Ahrimiar and Wenhiffar and managed not to strike out at them, only stiffening in their welcome.  “We missed you, stepson,” Wenhiffar said.  “Welcome home, son,” Ahrimiar chimed in.  “You succeeded in saving your friends! We’re very proud and want to hear the whole thing from yourself, rather than the stiff little bits and pieces we’ve been reading from M’sieur James’ Broadsheet stories.”

“Am I dreaming this?” Ahrimaz asked faintly, letting his other parent’s fuss over him as if he truly were a beloved son.  “No.”  He checked the scabs on his forearms and they ached with cold, though that was going away.  “It’s real.”  He shut his eyes a moment.  “I’m glad to be back,” he said.  “Let me help Didara get her coat off!”

Thankfully they let him go and he helped the grooms wrestle Didara’s sodden wool coat off and over a wooden stand that held it off the sand to drip.