Crushed grass.

I will always remember.

I watched her as she walked and laughed in the sun. I longed to go to her. The others I had seen, more than a century past, knew only fear and greed. She was very different and I desired to know what made her the exception. I knew very well that only a certain few ever came to our isle, and for fewer reasons.

But she moved with a grace I had not seen in others of her race, and her joy was that of a youngling new—come to the world. Almost I could smell with her the air, almost myself laugh with delight at first knowledge of a new place, and for that alone I would have abandoned my post and gone to her. I knew she would not run. I hoped, I longed to discover that she was truly the one from my Weh dreams; and my wise heart knew her, even then.

Still, habit kept me back, and obedience to the laws of our Kindred. I remained in hiding and waited.

We had a fair walk north after we landed, through thick stands of lansip trees. A gentle breeze blew towards us from the north and the smell was glorious, spicy and invigorating. There seemed almost a holiday air among us all; I think it must have been the wonder of filling our lungs with that rare perfume not smelled in a hundred years. It was a marvelous sensation—at least, for those of us walking ahead of the cattle.

After about an hour we reached a small clearing, one of three. I was amazed to see that there were old cabins still standing, two of them, made of a dark red wood I had not seen before. As if they had known what to expect, Marik's men directed the Harvesters to the next clearing, which held no structures and was no more than a large open space among the trees. I could only guess they had old Merchant's tales to guide them. The place had an ancient feel to it, and lonely, as if it had been waiting faithfully for men to return and bring it once again to life.

The tents we carried were soon raised. There was room for four in each, but since we had lost so many in the passage I managed to get a tent for Rella and myself alone. We were all given our duties immediately, some to fetch water from a nearby spring, some to start a fire, some to see to the cattle. We noticed that most of the sailors who had helped carry supplies stayed on as well, and why not? There were fortunes literally on the trees here, no need to pass up such a chance of wealth.

I barely noticed what we were doing. I fancied I could smell Dragons on the air, feel their presence in the trees beyond, watching and waiting.

For me, of course.

Ah, Lady bless us. Was lever truly that young?

When I had tracked them to the Gedri camp and it grew clear that the one I watched so closely did not mean to call to me yet, I turned over the watch to Hadreshikrar. It was nearly time for the renewal of the treaty, if the Gedri remembered. More than a hundred years had passed. I knew from my studies that in their brief lives such a span encompassed three or four generations. Few of my people had even noticed.

Thus I was pleased to find at the appointed place and time a new Speaker. This one was tall for their kind, with hair of golden red—from the little I had seen I guessed he must be the leader of this Harvest. He waited but a moment before he called out, "Very well, it is noon and I am here. Show yourself, Dragon, I pray you; I have much to do." There was an insolence in his voice that surprised me. The Gedri are seldom so arrogant in the face of my people.

When the sun stood directly overhead I moved into the gap in the trees, where I might be seen, and answered him. "Greetingss, childt off the Gedri. Hwat bringethh thee ofer ssea to the landt of my people?" I make certain that my man-speech is archaic and a little rusty when the Harvesters renew the treaty.

The Speaker started violently when he heard my voice. "You're real," he said, his voice much lower and shaking now. "Forgive me—I was told—I thought you were legend." He stood in a cloud of fear.

"It hathh been many a yeear ssince thou hasst come for the hlanssif. Knowest thou sstill the termss off the treeaty?"

He managed to speak at last. "I—no, your pardon, Lord Dragon, I knew not even that there was a treaty," he said. I was struck by his voice. Despite his fear he sounded much like one of the Kindred—it was pleasing to hear a Gedri voice musical.

"Thou art hhere for the hharvest nonethelesss?"

"Yes, Lord Dragon. But—what treaty—forgive me, lord, I didn't think you would be here."

"It iss ssimple, childt off the Gedri. The Boundary iss well sset to north and far away west, a ffence off woodt between thy people andt mine. Ssouth iss thy landing place, easst iss the ssea. Keep thysself and thy kindred on thine own sside the ffence, hwere the hlansif trrees arre, andt for ourr part we sshall not cross the Boundary to interffere with thee. An thou or one of thy kindred dost cross oferr, thy livess are fforfeit and we sshall ssslay thee on ssight. Sshouldsst thou require to sspeak with uss, be heere at noon and thou sshalt be ansswered. Thou hast until dawn off the sseventh day from thiss moment to gatherr hwat hlansif thou willt. On that day thou sshalt meet with me here to ssay farewell when the ssun riseth ofer the rim off the worldt. Ffail not off that meeting, ffor it iss the assurance that thou art departing. Shouldsst thouremain affterr, thy departure will be assissted. Dost undersstand?"

"I—yes, yes, I think so. We stay on this side of the Boundary, we have six days to gather and I must meet with you before we leave at dawn on the seventh day. If we need to talk come at noon. Is that it?"

"Hyu lissten well, merchant. Hwat issthy name?"

"I am Ma—Master Bors of Trissen, Lord Dragon. How should I call you?"

I smelt the lie and put a low growl in my voice. "Truth, Merchant. I assk only thy ussename, but I will have the true one."

"Marik. Marik of Gundar," he said swiftly. "And you are?"

I hissed my amusement. "I hight Hlorrd Drragon." He seemed disconcerted by my laughter. "Know that thou andt thy people arre watched alwayss," I told him. "Ssendt the cattle through the gate at ssunsset. Sshouldsst thou have needt to sspeeak with me, come to thiss place andt call for the Guardian. Barring ssuch a meeting, we sshall not sspeeak again until thou art ready to depart."

He bowed shakily in my general direction and left, far more swiftly than he had come.

That was the extent of the prescribed contact between our peoples, save a formal farewell when they left.

For me it was not enough.

There is among the Greater Kindred a longing which we call ferrinshadik. It may be, as some believe, a racial memory from aeons past, for it is felt to some extent by us all—but to some, as to me, it is a bitter pain to be borne. It is the deep longing to speak with another species; to converse with another Kind, to learn, to see the world through different eyes. It has been my burden all my life. I have learned all that is known of the Gedri among my people, thus trying to ease the pain, but it only grew worse.

How should I describe a deep longing of the heart for that which cannot be? There is a ban against our races meeting, for the dangers to both sides are too great. Since the coming of the Demonlord, there is too deep a temptation for my people to desire the death of the Gedri. That is why we first came to live on this island. The Great Ban has been in place for three thousand years, a long time even by my people's reckoning, and we could not see a way to end it without grave danger to both sides.

Some have tried to speak with trees to ease the ferrinshadik, but that slow ponderous speech takes a lifetime to learn, even one of our lifetimes; and it knows only wind, water, earth and tire, sap rising and leaves falling. The true ferrinshadik is for speech with a sentient being. The Trelli have all gone, as far as we know; we do not speak with our life-enemies the Rakshasa; there remain only the Gedrishakrim. Our old fear and loathing is hard to overcome, and most of the Kindred believe that it is foolishness to try—but the ferrinshadik is not to be denied, and I had it in greater measure than any I knew. Hadreshikrar knew it as a scholar, but that is the lesser kind. My blood ran with it, my Weh sleep was plagued with dreams, and every year I waited for some sign that the time had come.