About Where Flows the Water
Written by Sean Michael
183 pages / 66000 words
ISBN: 0-9766932-05
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc, paperback
The water flows to Quan, a mage in search of the most important thing a mage can find, his protector and life partner. Young tribesman Jael is just that, but he doesn’t know it yet, and Where Flows the Water explores the relationship between these two very different men as they meet and begin to build something lasting and necessary, aided by physical closeness that scorches with its intensity. When the two finally get it right, they connect, and it’s them against the world, which sometimes seems determined to tear them apart.
Set in a fantasy world as complex as it is interesting, Where Flows the Water showcases a place where magic is a part of the everyday world in hundreds of small ways, and where love knows few boundaries, if only the stubborn can see it exists.
Sample
It was a dry, dusty day. The road was dirty, the grass that lined it was yellowed and brown in places, the air wasn't clean. And worst of all, he was dirty. He could feel the grit, rubbing between his collar and the skin of his neck, inside his shoes, in his hair. It made him grumpy and tired and unhappy.
It wouldn't do any good to stop and wash, either. There would just be more dirt and he would have to stop again and really, he wanted to find a place to camp before he stopped and so far this road had proved to be unfriendly. Aside from the dirt, he had a spider-bite, a bruise on his shin from an unfortunate trip over a camouflaged stick, a scratch from the thorns of a berry bush across his right hand and his water pouch had fallen and been torn.
All Quan wanted out of this path now, was to survive it. Civilization would be nice, too.
At least the current cover of trees offered shade from the sun and cut the wind, which kept the dust to a minimum. Of course it also brought with it all manner of creatures and he was pretty sure he'd heard the snorfling chortle of a wild hog. He hadn't stuck around to be sure, choosing instead to move on quickly. Another noise came from the trees around him, this time the sound more like a growl. Maybe a big cat or something like a bear. Another noise came from the same direction, this time more of a rumbling roar and Quan froze, eyes riveted to where it had come from.
When the bear broke through the cover of the trees and continued to press forward, running straight at him, Quan ran. As fast as he could.
The damn beast still managed to swipe him before he could make it to a tree, cutting a rather painful gouge out of his leg.
The wound was soon forgotten in the panic that followed his scramble up the tree. The damnable bear was trying to knock him off his perch, if that was what you could call his precarious position, clinging to the trunk of the tree, some twenty-five feet from the ground. The bear would back away -- the first time he'd thought it had given up -- and then it would run and ram its head right into the tree. It was also rubbing its hindquarters against the tree, which was making the trunk he was clinging to groan and tremble alarmingly. Well, he was alarmed at any rate, the bear looked like he was going to keep doing it until Quan dropped into his lap. If bears had laps.
Well then, he seemed not to be panicking, as he was considering the physical make-up of bears. Just then the beast gave up on trying to shake him out of the tree. Which would have been wonderful, except he seemed intent on climbing up instead.
Quan began to scream.
***
Jael heard the scream only a heartbeat before he heard the infuriated roar of the bear. Sernes whinnied and stamped and then they were off, moving through the forest at a breakneck speed, wind and sound and excitement plummeting him forward.
His throwing knives were in his hand, rahat readied at his side. The huge brown animal had someone treed -- Jael didn't have the time or inclination to be curious as to who yet, as he wheeled Sernes around to aim the first volley of knives. The first knife sliced through the thick fur, but was easily brushed away. The second and third found their marks, burying deep into the thick, ropy muscle of the bear's shoulder. The fourth knife was slapped from the air by a huge paw, the beast turning and roaring furiously. Sernes bucked, screaming shrilly into the air, the smell and vicinity of the bear more than her training could take. Jael managed to throw one more knife as he leapt from her back and began swinging his rahat on a strong, thin mara-silk rope, looking for a wounding blow that would keep him out of range of those claws and teeth. Time slowed, became thick and heavy like good honey on a winter morning. It was always like this, on a good hunt, during the battle -- thick and slow and his heart beat so steady and strong and he could see everything and...
There!
The bear shifted, one arm moving to strike and he let the blades fly, crowing as they sank deep, piercing organ and flesh and bone. With a tug, the blades came free, blood pouring from the bear, weakening it in steady pulses. Jael circled, keeping the dying animal's attention, watching for the killing blow. He disliked when they suffered and prided himself on a clean, quick kill. It was his fondest wish that his prey appeared, surprised and still running, in the green fields of the Land of Summer, still believing themselves in their native woods.
It took only two more blows before the bear fell to the ground, its spirit slipping from its meat and pelt. Jael leaned down and slit the throat before the heart stilled, repeating the motion on the thick pad of flesh below his thumb. He watched as both fluids fell and fed the earth, one dead and one living. As it should be.
As he became aware of his surroundings once more, he realised the screaming hadn't stopped. The man, for it appeared to indeed be a man, who had been treed, was still quite a ways up, crying and screeching and begging for the moon to save him. Jael tilted his head. ''You! Up there! It's dead. You can stop now. You hurt?''
Whoever the man was, he wasn't from here -- not with that accent and those clothes. Maybe from the big water or perhaps the tribes by the white mountains. ''Dead? Hurt? Yes! Yes, I'm hurt. For the love of the moon, get me down!''
''Where are you hurt?'' Jael slipped the rahat into its customary place, climbing easily up the takava. He loved these trees, they smelled like the candies from the Feast days -- minty and spicy and warm.
''Where?'' The man was still half-shrieking, half-yelling, panic clear in his voice. ''What does it matter where? I am bleeding to death and we are discussing wound placement.''
''In my experience, people lose their voices long before they lose their last drop of blood. You must be safe.''
''I'm hanging perilously from a tree. I am most assuredly not safe!'' The panic in the man's voice had faded somewhat, replaced by indignation.
''Perilously?'' Jael frowned and shrugged, holding one hand up towards the man. He didn't look like he was bleeding to death, but he definitely looked unhappy. ''Well, come on then. If you don't like being up here, let's go down.''
Blue eyes that were almost green, unlike any he'd ever seen before, stared down at him: first at his hand and then the ground and then into his face. ''On second thought, maybe I'll just stay where I am.''
''Stay? But you said...'' Jael blinked and frowned. Maybe the odd man really was wounded. He reached out again, more insistent. ''Come now. Falling out of the tree would hurt.''
''Yes, I'm sure it would.'' The man wrapped his arms more firmly around the trunk. ''That's why I'll stay right where I am. As long as I keep talking I won't bleed to death, right? That is what you said.''
''I did not. I said you couldn't talk if...'' He sighed and whistled for Sernes, sliding back down the trunk with a mental shrug. He'd give the man a moment; perhaps he was frightening. He didn't think he was particularly threatening, but he had just killed a bear alone. Oh, Naki would have to be impressed by this. Have to. He pulled his blade as his feet hit the ground, heading for his kill. ''You want some of the meat? You did find it, after all.''
''Wait! Where are you going? You can't just leave me here!''
Oh, now this was ridiculous. Jael stepped away from the tree, hands on his hips. ''You just said you were staying up there. I heard you.''
''Not by myself I'm not! Besides, you said if I was talking I couldn't bleed to death and then you said that wasn't true at all.'' The man glared down at him for a moment and then whimpered and clung more tightly to the tree.
A drop of something fell down and hit the ground next to Jael. Bending, he touched his finger to the spot; it was red.
''If I come up and help you, will you come down? I've got water and blankets and some binding cloths.'' Jael began the climb again. ''I won't hurt you.''
''Oh, water would be lovely. I feel so dirty. I've been dirty all day. I was going to stop. I should have stopped, then the bear would have decided to eat someone else. I don't think I'd even be very tasty to a bear. I don't know why he was picking on me. Oh. You're very large, aren't you? Rather like that bear.''
''Don't like being dirty?'' He climbed quickly, worried at the confused, sing-songy tone. ''There's a river about a half candlemark's ride away. We'll get you down and patched up and go, if you'd like. I could use a bit of a wash and so could the bear, I think.''
The man seemed to cling even tighter to the tree. ''I thought the bear was dead!''
''He is, but he'll be a better rug after a dunk.'' Jael laughed, hoping to put the man at ease. ''And he'll taste better too, wouldn't you think?''
''I think I'm going to be sick,'' the man informed him, voice tight, almost prim.
''Wait 'til I'm up or you're down.'' Jael reached the man and scooped him close, balancing the vaguely green-faced man against his chest. ''There now. Just close your eyes and we'll be down and I'll find you a bit of water.''
Long, thin fingers grabbed at his tunic, wrapping themselves in it in a death grip. ''I'll find the water. That's what I do. I just need a minute and I'll find your water for you.''
''You're a dowser? The chieftain will be glad to hear that. We've been worried about the water since the seer starting warning last winter. Hard to keep a tribe without water.'' Jael chattered softly, watching the ill-look fade slightly. Then he quickly and carefully carried the man down the tree.
''Pshaw. Dowsers are charlatans. You dig deep enough you can find water anywhere. I bring it to you. Oh. I usually don't tell people that. Not right away. Sometimes not even at all. But you did just save my life from that horrible bear who was going to eat me all up. Thank you.''
''They are?'' Jael settled the man on the grass, looking him over carefully. There was a nasty gash on one leg, but otherwise the man seemed well. He whistled for his horse again, pulling down one of the saddlebags and pulling out a water skin. ''What's your name? I'm Jael.''
''I'm Quan. It's nice to meet you, Jael. Thank you for rescuing me.'' The man looked down at his own leg and grew pale. ''Oh my, that seems like an awful lot of blood...''
''Oh, it's not so bad. Looks nastier than it is. What kind of name is Quan? I've never heard it before.'' He winced as his cut thumb began to sting and raised it to his mouth, sucking it idly. He poured water over Quan's wound before binding it up.
''My people are -- oh! Ooooooohhhhh.'' Quan stopped speaking, a small smile playing about his face as Jael cleaned the wound.
''The ache should ease soon. It wasn't too deep at all.'' Jael tied the last knot and stood. ''If you'll rest a bit, I'll set that old bear onto some sticks and we'll head down to the river.''