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The half-dragon found it difficult to stand the superstitious awe with which he was treated while he waited for the Plainsmen to break camp, and even more difficult to put up with as he traveled with them. He wasn't sure why he was going with them, but... well, he didn't have anything better to do.
He was, however, quite glad when he could see the village they were heading to in the distance. Of course, that distance was fairly large, given his eyesight and how flat the plains were, but at least their destination was in sight. Hopefully at least this Chief fellow would be better about not calling him “Great Thunder Spirit” and stuff. The Hunt-Chief at least was just calling him Almonihah, so he had some hope for the Chief.
A couple of the Plainsmen had run ahead of the group to inform the village of their visitor, so Almonihah wasn't particularly surprised to see a group of people waiting to greet them. The leader had some kind of headdress made of beads and what the Ranger was somewhat surprised to note looked like griffon feathers. Given the meaning of the decoration the Hunt-Chief wore, he suspected that this Plainsman was the Chief.
His suspicion was confirmed when the Plainsman spoke. “Greetings, Almonihah Zrathanzon. You are welcome here in the village of the Griffon Tribe. You have done us a great service in saving the lives of two of our hunters. For this service we offer you the hospitality of our village.”
“Thanks,” Almonihah said as he took in the sight before him. The village was a humble affair, made mostly of low huts. There seemed to be little wood involved in their construction. Instead, most of the walls consisted of some kind of grass or brush, with only enough wood to make a frame over which these materials were spread. The Ranger found this rather odd, given that the forest was only a couple days' journey away.
The half-dragon realized the Plainsman Chief was still speaking. “Normally, we would have a ceremony to celebrate what you have done... but you outsiders rarely appreciates such things. Is not this so?”
It took Almonihah a moment to realize that was a question. “Yeah, I think we can skip th' ceremony part.”
The Chief nodded. “Then let us go to the Shaman. He wishes to see you. If you would, please follow me.”
Shrugging, the half-dragon followed the Chief to a large hut near what he thought was the center of the village. There seemed to be a large, clear area in front of it, which seemed like it had been pounded down by many feet. Interesting.
The inside of the hut would have been fairly dim to human eyes, though the hole in the roof—which Almonihah supposed was to let out smoke from the fire pit underneath—did let in a fair amount of light. There were a number of odd objects in the hut—feathers, teeth, and claws from various animals and monsters, drying herbs, oddly shaped rocks and pieces of wood.
The Shaman himself was an older Plainsman, with white hair and a face that looked worn by the elements. He was dressed in the same simple clothing—made mostly from the hides of the various animals that roamed the plains—as the rest of the Plainsmen, but he also wore some sort of talisman around his neck that involved items rather like those that adorned his hut. He was sitting cross-legged on an animal skin on the floor, with a staff across his legs. The staff was an interesting object—carved intricately in the shape of various animals, with matching feathers, claws, and teeth attached.
When the half-dragon entered the Shaman's hut, he looked up and said, in a soft, mildly raspy voice, “Ah, greetings, young dragon. I was hoping you would make your way here.”
For some reason the Shaman's words irritated Almonihah. “'m not a dragon. Just half.”
The Shaman smiled gently. “Of course... young dragon.”
The Ranger growled a bit, but decided the old man must be too senile to listen. That, or might be deaf. Or blind. His eyes did seem to have a bit of a milky look.
While Almonihah had been looking over the Shaman, the Shaman had been examining Almonihah. “You follow the Earth-Mother, do you not?”
Almonihah was a bit taken aback by the sudden question. “Earth-Mother?”
“The Forest Maiden, the Lady of the Plains... she has many names. Perhaps you would know her by the name of Naishia? That is the outsider name for her.”
The Ranger grunted in surprise. “Yeah, I do. How'd you know?”
The Shaman nodded, smiling again. “There is a... feeling about fellow followers of the Earth-Mother.” He paused for a moment, shifting his position a little bit, then continued, “We also reverence the Earth-Mother and her creation, but in a different way than you outsiders do, you will find.”
Almost unconsciously Almonihah found his curiosity rousing. “What d' you mean?”
The Shaman motioned for Almonihah to sit in the hut across from him. He did so, a corner of his mind noting the fact that the Plainsmen who had led him to the hut didn't follow him in.
Once his guest was settled, the Shaman spoke again. “There are many differences between our view of the world and that of the outsiders. Before I continue,” he held up a hand as if to forestall an interruption, even though Almonihah had no intention to do so, “I want you to know that part of the reason I wished to see you is because I love to learn of others. Now, where was I?”
He paused for a second, then said, “Ah, yes. How we differ from outsider followers of the Earth-Mother. We, unlike most outsiders, view all life as...” he paused for a moment again, “sacred would be the closest word for it. We view all animals and plants as... expressions of the Earth-Mother's divinity.” He paused again. “It is difficult to describe our view, but it permeates our lives.”
“Hmmm.” He was right—he didn't quite understand what he meant. He thought he got the idea of what the Shaman was getting at, but only the general idea.
“This is different from how you view things, is it not?”
“Yeah.”
There was a pause, as if the Shaman was waiting for an explanation. Eventually he asked, “How do you view things?”
The Ranger thought for a bit. “Well... I respect life. Don't kill anything 'f I don't need 't t' live. Try t' protect 't from things that aren't right...” he trailed off with a shrug.
There was silence again for a few seconds, then the Shaman asked, “So what are you planning to do after you leave us?”
There was a long stretch of silence before Almonihah finally answered. “I'm a Ranger. I was going down south t' help hold th' Line.”
There was something almost shrewd about the way the Shaman looked at Almonihah. “Perhaps you might stay a while with us first, to learn something of our ways?”
Almonihah almost said no before he stopped himself and thought. While the whole “Thunder Spirit” thing was annoying, the Plainsmen seemed like good people, and he was curious about their ways. Certainly they weren't like any other people he'd ever met. Not to mention that their hunters needed some help with not getting themselves killed if they were going into the forests.
“Yeah, might 's well.”
The Shaman smiled again. “Good. I look forward to speaking more with you.” He slowly got up to his feet, using the staff to help push himself up. “Now, I believe someone is waiting outside my home to show you the way to where you may stay during your time with us. Why don't we go out there and let him do his job?”
**********
So, a late-night Christmas present to all of my readers! Sorry that I've been a bit slow about posting things up recently. I'll try to finish this chapter and hopefully most of the next over the next week and a half or so when I'm not particularly busy.
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