Seeds of Rebellion
Page 80
Lodan absorbed the information, obviously grateful for any anecdote about the father he had not seen for years. “I envy you,” he admitted once Jason had finished. “I’ve longed to be abroad with my father on adventures like the ones you describe.”
“His seed is in the ground?”
“It was the only way he could have reentered the Vales. He should be with us in a week or so. I can hardly wait! Of course, after his rebirth, he’ll be expelled again. His banishment remains in force.”
“So you haven’t … died yet?”
“This is my first lifetime. There aren’t many others my age. Eldrin designed our race to become less fertile over the years. Hardly any of our women can have babies anymore.”
“Farfalee mentioned your First Death,” Jason said. “How does that work?”
“When I die for the first time, the physical condition of my body will become permanently sealed to my amar. Thereafter I will be reborn at exactly the same age as when I first experienced death. My memories will continue to accumulate, but my body will look the same every time. There’s a big ceremony involved. I’ve lived nearly twenty years, the age at which most of my people choose to embrace the First Death. I’ve been working to build up my strength and endurance, so that ever after I’ll be born in good health.”
“Wow. So they’ll kill you?”
“Just this body. I’ll be reborn into an identical one, which will age until I perish and my seed is replanted. The First Death is necessary. It would defeat the purpose of having an amar if I lived a long life only to be reborn over and over as an old man on my deathbed.”
“Makes sense,” Jason said. “Do you know how much you look like your father?”
“I hear that often, especially from my mother.”
They continued in silence. Jason tried to absorb the beauty around him—the smell of ripe crops in fertile soil, the splashing of a lively brook, the way cloud shadows gradually slid across the wheat fields.
They stopped for lunch at the edge of the lake. Jason sat on a rock near the water, chewing on a hunk of pumpkin bread. Corinne came and sat beside him, picking at a muffin.
“Good muffin?” Jason asked.
“I like the nuts. I can still hardly believe we made it here.”
“It looked bleak.” Jason motioned toward the lake with his bread. “This sure beats angry soldiers trying to kill you.”
“I would take the soldiers over the swamp,” Corinne said, brushing hair back from her eyes. “Even when I was exhausted and frightened we were going to die, part of me kept insisting how pleasant it was to be actually doing something.”
Jason raised his eyebrows. “You must have had a serious case of boredom.”
“It may sound ridiculous, but I truly felt that way.” She sighed. “After all the loneliness followed by the danger, these vales feel even more heavenly.”
“I’ll agree with that.” Jason stared at the water, groping for something winning to say. “You did well. I was impressed you could keep up.”
“Why?” She seemed mildly offended.
“Because I was worn out, and I can’t imagine you’ve had much exercise in a long time.”
“More than you might think. The exercises father prescribed for me were quite rigorous, and I performed them every day.”
“With your sword?”
“Mainly. Jumping, lunging, rolling, footwork patterns. You’d weep for me if you knew how much I’ve swung my sword at nothing. I am quite the specialist at dispatching imaginary villains.”
“I bet. Show me your routine.”
Her cheeks flushed as she looked over her shoulder at where the others were eating. “Not here in front of everyone.”
“Why not?”
“Would you want to?”
“Good point.”
“Ask me later, when I won’t make such a spectacle.”
“Ferrin sometimes trains me in swordplay. He’s really good. You should join us.”
“I’d like that.”
Jason swallowed his last bite of pumpkin bread, pleased to have made a connection with Corinne. He found a flat rock and winged it sidearm out onto the water, where it took three good skips and a few small ones. Corinne grabbed a rock and imitated his throw. The stone skipped twice before plopping out of view.
Rachel came up behind them. “I vote we stay in the Seven Vales. I have a feeling I could get used to it here.”
“I agree,” Corinne said wistfully. “Maybe we can convince father to argue for us all to be made honorary seed people.”
Jason pondered the possibility of remaining in the Seven Vales. He considered the lake, the mountains, the farmland. This was the nicest place he’d visited in Lyrian. If Galloran successfully convinced the Amar Kabal to resist Maldor, what would Jason really have to contribute? He was no general, no warrior, not even a wannabe wizard like Rachel. His role in the rebellion might be ending. If the talks went well, he, Rachel, and Corinne really could win the opportunity to wait out the war here in paradise.
“Let’s hope your dad makes a good case,” Jason said. “Otherwise we might get kicked out of heaven and sent straight to the alternative.”
CHAPTER 19
THE CONCLAVE
The home of Farfalee and Lodan consisted of three squat, round buildings connected by a pair of arched hallways. Bright flowers adorned the conical roofs, and grapevines thrived atop the halls.
When they had arrived the night before, Jason had missed most of the details in the darkness. He had noticed that part of the reason the buildings looked squat was because they were half underground. After following Lodan to a sleeping mat made from a corklike substance, Jason had stretched out and promptly fallen asleep.
Today, with the sun rising, Jason waited beside an irrigation trench to one side of the house. Freestanding trellises laced with leafy limbs stood around the yard in unusual formations, some cylindrical, others boxy, a few shaped like thick crosses, and a couple curving into spheres. They all bore fruit of varying shapes and sizes.
Lodan had roused him early, asking if he wanted to train. Secretly Jason had wanted more sleep, and was worried that Lodan would easily outclass him sparring with swords, but pride had prevented him from expressing either of those concerns. So here he stood.
Lodan came into view pulling a handcart. Ferrin and Corinne trailed behind him. The foursome gathered in a recently cleared field, and Lodan produced four wooden practice swords, balanced to perfection. They all put on padded tunics, thick gloves, and leather helmets affixed to wire masks. Jason felt both excited and intimidated to try mock combat with the elaborate practice gear.
“His seed is in the ground?”
“It was the only way he could have reentered the Vales. He should be with us in a week or so. I can hardly wait! Of course, after his rebirth, he’ll be expelled again. His banishment remains in force.”
“So you haven’t … died yet?”
“This is my first lifetime. There aren’t many others my age. Eldrin designed our race to become less fertile over the years. Hardly any of our women can have babies anymore.”
“Farfalee mentioned your First Death,” Jason said. “How does that work?”
“When I die for the first time, the physical condition of my body will become permanently sealed to my amar. Thereafter I will be reborn at exactly the same age as when I first experienced death. My memories will continue to accumulate, but my body will look the same every time. There’s a big ceremony involved. I’ve lived nearly twenty years, the age at which most of my people choose to embrace the First Death. I’ve been working to build up my strength and endurance, so that ever after I’ll be born in good health.”
“Wow. So they’ll kill you?”
“Just this body. I’ll be reborn into an identical one, which will age until I perish and my seed is replanted. The First Death is necessary. It would defeat the purpose of having an amar if I lived a long life only to be reborn over and over as an old man on my deathbed.”
“Makes sense,” Jason said. “Do you know how much you look like your father?”
“I hear that often, especially from my mother.”
They continued in silence. Jason tried to absorb the beauty around him—the smell of ripe crops in fertile soil, the splashing of a lively brook, the way cloud shadows gradually slid across the wheat fields.
They stopped for lunch at the edge of the lake. Jason sat on a rock near the water, chewing on a hunk of pumpkin bread. Corinne came and sat beside him, picking at a muffin.
“Good muffin?” Jason asked.
“I like the nuts. I can still hardly believe we made it here.”
“It looked bleak.” Jason motioned toward the lake with his bread. “This sure beats angry soldiers trying to kill you.”
“I would take the soldiers over the swamp,” Corinne said, brushing hair back from her eyes. “Even when I was exhausted and frightened we were going to die, part of me kept insisting how pleasant it was to be actually doing something.”
Jason raised his eyebrows. “You must have had a serious case of boredom.”
“It may sound ridiculous, but I truly felt that way.” She sighed. “After all the loneliness followed by the danger, these vales feel even more heavenly.”
“I’ll agree with that.” Jason stared at the water, groping for something winning to say. “You did well. I was impressed you could keep up.”
“Why?” She seemed mildly offended.
“Because I was worn out, and I can’t imagine you’ve had much exercise in a long time.”
“More than you might think. The exercises father prescribed for me were quite rigorous, and I performed them every day.”
“With your sword?”
“Mainly. Jumping, lunging, rolling, footwork patterns. You’d weep for me if you knew how much I’ve swung my sword at nothing. I am quite the specialist at dispatching imaginary villains.”
“I bet. Show me your routine.”
Her cheeks flushed as she looked over her shoulder at where the others were eating. “Not here in front of everyone.”
“Why not?”
“Would you want to?”
“Good point.”
“Ask me later, when I won’t make such a spectacle.”
“Ferrin sometimes trains me in swordplay. He’s really good. You should join us.”
“I’d like that.”
Jason swallowed his last bite of pumpkin bread, pleased to have made a connection with Corinne. He found a flat rock and winged it sidearm out onto the water, where it took three good skips and a few small ones. Corinne grabbed a rock and imitated his throw. The stone skipped twice before plopping out of view.
Rachel came up behind them. “I vote we stay in the Seven Vales. I have a feeling I could get used to it here.”
“I agree,” Corinne said wistfully. “Maybe we can convince father to argue for us all to be made honorary seed people.”
Jason pondered the possibility of remaining in the Seven Vales. He considered the lake, the mountains, the farmland. This was the nicest place he’d visited in Lyrian. If Galloran successfully convinced the Amar Kabal to resist Maldor, what would Jason really have to contribute? He was no general, no warrior, not even a wannabe wizard like Rachel. His role in the rebellion might be ending. If the talks went well, he, Rachel, and Corinne really could win the opportunity to wait out the war here in paradise.
“Let’s hope your dad makes a good case,” Jason said. “Otherwise we might get kicked out of heaven and sent straight to the alternative.”
CHAPTER 19
THE CONCLAVE
The home of Farfalee and Lodan consisted of three squat, round buildings connected by a pair of arched hallways. Bright flowers adorned the conical roofs, and grapevines thrived atop the halls.
When they had arrived the night before, Jason had missed most of the details in the darkness. He had noticed that part of the reason the buildings looked squat was because they were half underground. After following Lodan to a sleeping mat made from a corklike substance, Jason had stretched out and promptly fallen asleep.
Today, with the sun rising, Jason waited beside an irrigation trench to one side of the house. Freestanding trellises laced with leafy limbs stood around the yard in unusual formations, some cylindrical, others boxy, a few shaped like thick crosses, and a couple curving into spheres. They all bore fruit of varying shapes and sizes.
Lodan had roused him early, asking if he wanted to train. Secretly Jason had wanted more sleep, and was worried that Lodan would easily outclass him sparring with swords, but pride had prevented him from expressing either of those concerns. So here he stood.
Lodan came into view pulling a handcart. Ferrin and Corinne trailed behind him. The foursome gathered in a recently cleared field, and Lodan produced four wooden practice swords, balanced to perfection. They all put on padded tunics, thick gloves, and leather helmets affixed to wire masks. Jason felt both excited and intimidated to try mock combat with the elaborate practice gear.
