Chapter 5

Sunlight splashed in through the open window. Illian Dain yawned and stretched, breathing in the sharp, cold fragrance of the mountains. Beside him in the small bed, his wife Bela stirred and began to rouse herself, their two sons Samuel and Gladstan still sleeping on the floor. On the first day of their journey to the great city in the clouds, the Dain family had traveled by coach through the steep mountain foothills and into the Hai Mahlner, land of the mountain men.

Behind were the rolling hills and plains at the Northern reaches of the Hai Lei, and ahead was only rock and sky. All around were gigantic boulders covered in mosses and proud evergreens that jutted their boughs up to the heavens. Already, they had climbed higher than airships are able to fly; high enough that the frozen soil seemed always to be dusted with frost even in the beginnings of summer.

The newly appointed senator and his family had been amused upon first entering the Hai Mahlner to find trading posts which sold naught but coats of leather and fur. But as their coach had climbed higher along the main road, they had eagerly spent a small portion of Illian's new salary to cover their flimsy cotton garments with something more substantial. As the sun had set they came upon a way house in a small village, and there they slept the night.

Illian mustered a final yawn and willed himself from beneath the warmth of the bedcovers. The fresh mountain air was nothing if not refreshing and invigorating, but the forest man still preferred the moist heat of his homeland. Struggling for a moment, he inexpertly fashioned the straps of his new leather boots into knots and shrugged on his fur overcoat, and moved quietly across the sleepy room to the door. He walked out into the early morning bustle of the Hai Mahlner village and drank in the scenery for the first time in daylight. His breath frosting in the air as he strolled the grounds, residents greeted him with a warm manner contrasting their climate. Hearty, bearded men and cheerful, plump women smiled and welcomed the un-weathered traveler whilst their children chased goats among the traffic of horse-drawn coaches and pack llamas in the streets. A noisy generator chugged and belched out sulfur as it turned long leather belts, which turned the wheels of the town.

Not a big man, Illian had always to push himself harder to succeed than most. At a young age he had learned this, and as a result he had developed an ethic of perseverance in everything he did. He had been but a boy during the great wars, and had admired the strength and skill of the army men. Enlisting as soon as he was old enough, even though there had been no war to fight, his natural drive had boosted him up through the ranks with a speed and steadiness that had surprised even himself. By the age of seventeen he lead his own squad. By age twenty, a full company of the army's best heeded his orders. Indeed, the only cloud hanging over his army career took the form of his elder brother Barrad.

Barrad Dain: the black sheep of the Dain family. A year older, he had always been bigger, taller, stronger - smarter even - than his brother; yet Illian had always been better. The playful sparring of their youth had become only more heated with age. They challenged and chided each other into more and more foolish and dangerous stunts, and still Barrad had never been able to declare himself the outright victor (Barrad still carried a scar on his left arm; a stern reminder of what began as a friendly, childish duel with a pair of blunted spears). Neither brother ever spoke openly of the angry cloud which began to boil between them, pretending it to be merely a part of any normal sibling relationship. Even their parents ignored the warning signs and hoped that temperance would come with time.

The Dain brothers entered the army at the same time, but while the younger moved ever upwards in rank and standing, the elder seemed fixed in place. Barrad had grown more and more reclusive and unpredictable as time wore on, harboring a kind of hatred and resentment which only brothers can share. On the same day Illian was promoted into a position of authority over his older bother, Barrad failed to report for his duties. Illian sent a sergeant to find the wayward corporal, and when the sergeant did not return he went looking himself. He found Barrad, crazed and wild, standing over a bloody hump which was hanging to life by the smallest of threads. The black sheep faced the courts, but had escaped custody before any punishment could be decided, and Illian's view of the world was forever darkened.

Following the incident, Illian took some time to visit with his parents, who took the news quite hard. He comforted them while he tried to understand what had happened. During his stay in the village, he met the sixteen year old Bela and married her, bringing a little happiness back into his life. At time went on, the sun again shone for him even through the clouds, and he became the proud father of two sons. His love for his wife grew, his sons grew, and the respect his men held for him grew as well. Things were going right, and it seemed the perfect addition to an already outstanding career to be appointed as senator for the Hai Lei; to live for a year in the great Cloud City among other senators from fiefs all around the globe.

And so, leaving his house and farm in the care of his servants, Illian gathered up his family and headed North. These reflections and others passed behind the senator's eyes as his boots crunched in the Mahlner frost. Looking left and right as he passed between buildings, he chose his direction aimlessly as he strolled through the mountain village. Then his feet stopped. Illian's breath puffed out in little frosty clouds as his eyes flicked up to read the sign over the tavern door; the smell of fried sausages, eggs, and freshly baked bread came wafting through the door, and he found his mouth watering and his stomach uncomfortably empty.

Illian strode quickly, almost at a run, back across the village to the way house in which his family was slowly waking.

"Bela, darling!" he called as he burst through the door. "Boys! Come on, get up."

"What is it?" asked his wife, wondering what could so excite the man at such an early hour, when there was no work to be done and the pack llamas for their trip would not be ready for yet another hour.

"Daddy, I don't feel good," said Samuel from his curled position on the floor, holding his hands to his stomach.

"Me neither," came the like response from Gladstan.

"I know, I know," Illian said to his boys excitedly, still standing in the doorway.

"Illian, it's freezing in here," Bela interrupted, pulling the bedcovers higher against the wash of frosty air blowing in around her husband's body.

"Right, sorry," came his sheepish reply as he stepped fully into the room and closed the door. He quickly resumed, "I know you don't feel good. I don't either, but I found out why. Come on, I'll show you!"

"What is it?" asked Gladstan.

"But I don't want to go anywhere, my tummy hurts," came Samuel's whine.

"It's because you're hungry. The tavern is serving food across the village. You'll see, you just need to eat something. We all do."

"Hungry? Now?" said Bela with raised eyebrows. She would be the voice of reason, although her stomach had jumped with anticipation at his mention of food. "It's not even an hour after dawn! How can anybody think of eating now?" As she spoke, she became less sure of herself.

"I know how it sounds," said Illian, "but just come and stand in front of the tavern. Once you've smelled what I smelled, you won't be arguing any more. It must be something about the mountain air. I don't know what it is, but I'm starving."

"Really?"

"I want food! Daddy, I want food!"

"Can I have food too, Daddy? Can I?"

"Illian, are you sure they'll serve us?"

"Why wouldn't they? We have money, don't we? Come on, lets just walk over and find out."

Both Illian and Bela had learned years ago how to carry on normally even amid the babbles of their children, but they made sure to remind both boys to behave themselves as the family bundled itself against the cold. As anything involving two over excitable youths does, leaving the way house took much longer than it should have. Mother and Father each fastened (or tried to fasten) the boy's bootstraps, ending up with hopeless knots. They all pulled on their coats, and Bela searched the bags for Illian's wallet. At long last, they marched through the door and across the village, by this point having thought so much about food that the pangs of hunger became stabbing pains.

"Come in, come in," called the friendly Wana as the Dain family entered her tavern. "Have a seat anywhere."

Looking around as they moved through the room, they picked a table off to the side and sat down. The room was dimly lit with candles, and had the stench of smoke about it. Everything was wooden; the tables, the chairs, the floor, the counters.

Picture frames and giant wagon wheels adorned the walls, and a thin layer of grease seemed to cling to every available surface. And everywhere was the aroma which drove their empty stomachs wild with desire.

"Folks aren't from around here, are you?" asked Wana as she walked over. "That's alright, we get travelers through here all the time. But not usually forest folk such as yourselves."

"Is it that obvious?"

Several polite snickers from other patrons around the room answered Illian's question.

"I'm guessing your the new senator, am I right? We get a new family through here from the forest every year about this time."

"Yes, that's right."

"So, what can I serve the new senator and his lovely family?"

Illian glanced around the table, receiving helpless looks from his wife and children. "... food..." he offered meekly, drawing several more snickers.

"I thought as much," replied Wana, not unkindly. "You have no idea what we serve here do you?" she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "You didn't even know you were hungry till you smelled my kitchen. Amazing!"

"We've never eaten this early in the day before."

"Well, you'll get used to it, I'm sure. It's the altitude that does it, the thin air. Round here, we take three or four meals every day."

"No!"

"Yes, yes we do, you'll see. And believe me, the air only gets thinner where you're headed."

"Shit. This will take some getting used to, won't it."

"Illian!" hissed Bela at her husband's language.

"Well, not to worry," continued Wana. "Everyone adjusts in time. And don't worry about your food. I'll whip you up something I know you'll enjoy," she called over her shoulder as she headed back to the kitchen.

Indeed they did enjoy the feast placed before them. The small table was piled high with all sorts of food, some of which they recognized and some of which they did not. Steaming ham steaks, crispy bacon, spicy sausage links, peppered potatoes, fried eggs and sliced bread filled their plates again and again. Creamy goat's milk and slices of goat's cheese, bowls of strawberries, osderberries, canderberries, and sliced cantaloupes were passed around the table. The Dain family happily stuffed themselves, and then sank back in their chairs with satisfied sighs.

"I've never eaten that much," commented Illian.

"I don't imagine I'll ever eat again," agreed Bela.

"No," said Wana with a sideways smile, "you folks'll find you're hungry again by noon, I'd say. Maybe earlier if you make it as far as Donger Pass by then."

"Amazing," said Illian.

After paying, the senator and his family went back to the way house to pack their things. With plenty of time to spare, they had everything in their bags and were waiting outside the small station for the pack llamas when the animals were ready for them. Everything loaded, they departed well on schedule, headed farther North and ever higher along the winding mountain road.

Illian rode the lead animal with his wife sitting in the saddle behind him, Samuel and Gladstan rode the second, and all of their belongings were packed on the backs of the two bringing up the rear. The llamas puffed in the thin, cold air, and their backs swayed gently to and fro as their feet trod with sure steps. Ever higher they climbed, frost crunching on the ground and snow blowing in the biting wind. The Dain's were wrapped up tightly in furs against the stinging cold, but as the winds approached gale force on the upper reaches of the Mahlners, the furs did little to keep them from shivering.