Xanthippe (Chapter 30)

Template:Xanthippe nav "Malah?"

Xanthippe was about 10 feet away from the door of Malah's hospice. Malah, apparently out for a bit of air, did not acknowledge her presence. "I want to apologize for what I said earlier. I was wrong. I didn't understand why you were doing what you were doing."

Malah smiled. "Of course, child. Come in, it is cold outside at night. Someone accustomed to warmer climates must be suffering greatly here."

After entering, Xanthippe and Kasim sat down on one of the empty bunks. The siege had not yet resumed, so there were fewer casualties lying about. Qual-kehk's warriors were making their way further up the mountain; Xanthippe had seen one or two as she drove upwards. More than likely, Baal would never raise the siege again. Destroying Harrogath was no longer on his list of priorities; he had some greater goal in mind.

"Thank you, Malah. Actually, the air is the bad thing. It gets thinner and colder the higher I go."

"There is little to be done about that, I am afraid. But you do not seem too inconvenienced by it. It has certainly raised a healthy flush in your cheeks, young girl!" Malah chuckled.

Burst capillaries can do that, Xanthippe thought. "I think it was just me, making snap judgments. I've always tried to do everything myself, my own way."

Malah nodded. "Your way is certainly unlike most of your kind."

"I don't even like to be packed in with 'my kind'. But, as much as I hate to admit it, I need help. No one could do this alone."

"And that is why we all must work together, each in their own best role. This is no time for anyone to decide they do not feel like cooperating." Malah was busy over a pot of brewing herbs, the preparatory work for a poultice. "Skills are useless if not given a direction and purpose for the greater good."

Kasim cleared his throat. "I'd always heard that Barbarians are supposed to be really into self-reliance and independence, and all that stuff."

"Look at your fingers, young man." Kasim did so; they were a bit blue at the tips. "Now, each of those fingers is different from the others. But when all are threatened by some danger, all work together to save themselves. Thus do we come together in time of crisis."

Both Kasim and Xanthippe thought that a person's fingers make a poor argument for the nature of independent existence. While Kasim was silent, Xanthippe said, "Well... um, ok. Maybe you will help dispel my ignorance: why are all the Barbarian women hiding indoors?"

Sharply, Malah looked at Xanthippe. Then her eyes softened. "Perhaps 'hiding' is not the word to use. It would not be proper for our women to be seen by foreigners, especially a foreign man like your hireling."

Xanthippe thought for a minute. "What, you think he'll go for one, or something?"

"Foreigners have invaded our lands many times," Malah said. "Always, they try to kidnap Barbarian women. Their beauty must drive them mad."

One of the Barbarians, who they all thought was asleep, spoke up. "Och! 'Tis true. The most beautiful flowers of the world, they are! When spring comes, and they dance in the fields and swim naked in the icy brooks, ah, t'would drive any man mad. Those outsiders who catch sight of them must be stricken dumb by the sight! They have only known the puny little sticks of women who scraggle up in foreign lands; who can blame 'em?"

Actually, Xanthippe and Kasim had seen Barbarian women here and there; dead ones, at least. Judging from the mortal remains, they were tall, rawboned, heavy-set, sturdy women with unruly tangles of dull black hair. Some had traces of beards and moustaches. They almost certainly looked better when they were alive, but Xanthippe had Kasim's solemn word that she looked way better than any of them. He thought they looked like horses. Since Kasim hadn't dragged her off yet, she was pretty sure she could count on him to keep his urges under control with the Barbarians.

"Eh..." the Barbarian glanced at Xanthippe. "Not to mean yoo, o' course."

"Thank you." Xanthippe smiled sweetly. "A pity I'm so delicate, suffering away up here. Actually, my feet have been bothering me."

"Have you kept your feet wrapped well?" Malah asked. "In those steel boots of yours, frost on the toes might be a danger."

Xanthippe and Kasim both checked their feet. In patches, especially on the toes, the flesh had gone pale and rough, and the skin brushed off when rubbed. Malah gave them both foot baths in warm water; their feet tingled and stung as the feeling returned.

The Barbarian stared openly at Xanthippe's feet. "Yoo're that color all over?"

Xanthippe raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to show you any of the rest."

"But the bottoms o' yoor feet are white!"

Xanthippe rolled her eyes. "Yeah. The burning sands of the desert make them that color."

The Barbarian nodded sagely. "Yoo'd have thought they'd be burnt even darker!"

"Now that the subject of women has come up..." Malah poured more warm water. "There is something I have been hesitant to speak of."

Xanthippe wiggled her toes in the warm water, which had herbs in it too. Like bathing her feet in tea. "Is there a problem?"

"Before you arrived, Anya, the daughter of our chief elder, disappeared. I'll grant you, many went missing then, or worse, we know what happened to them. But Anya was not someone to be easily taken from this life."

"No, she wasn't!" the Barbarian proclaimed. "Och, a thing of beauty she was! And the wise daughter of our wisest elder, too! All men for leagues around vied for her hand."

Malah continued. "The night when she was last seen, she was arguing fiercely with Nihlathak. I suspect that he had something to do with it."

"Hmmm," said Xanthippe. "She was old enough, not married, and the chief's daughter? Could he have her squirreled away somewhere for a leadership coup?"

"Why?" the Barbarian asked. "He's the last remaining elder. What more could he want?"

"Nihlathak had a wife," Malah said, "and our people are forbidden to remarry. But I am sure he has done something with her, though I have no idea why he would do so. If I can prevail upon you, I implore you to search for her."

Kasim smirked. "So, the chief's beautiful daughter's gone missing, huh?"

"Kasim, you've been reading too many dirty novels," Xanthippe chided him. "The chief always has a beautiful, nubile daughter in those things. Anya's probably 8 feet tall with a beard like a rhododendron. And an arm that could choke an ox."

"What's wrong with a beard?" the Barbarian snorted. "I like a woman in a beard! Gives me something to hang on to!"

Before undertaking a search for one woman among many dead women, Xanthippe decided to talk with Nihlathak. Sure, he was creepy, but if he's being accused of something in a vague sort of way, he should be given a chance to tell his side of the story. Besides, no one else in town had spoken ill of him, at least not to her. Nihlathak was outside his house by the fire, staring up at the mountain.

"Hi there. You know, Malah's been saying some not-nice things about you."

Nihlathak took a bit of dried meat from above the fire, and slowly shredded it in his teeth. "Malah is an old fool. What has she been saying?"

"Well, first, she says you shouldn't eat so much. And, she says you have something to do with some woman named Anya."

At the mention of the name, Nihlathak glared hard at Xanthippe. She was expecting it this time, but it was still alarming. "What has she been saying about Anya?"

"That she's gone... and you had something to do with it."

"Why would I do such a thing?" Nihlathak smiled. "The last time I saw her, she was worried about an uncle and aunt of hers, who live in a hovel on the mountain. With Baal's legions about, she had grown concerned, and felt they needed rescuing. I advised against it; the danger was too great. But... she was a headstrong girl, not one to be ruled by sense."

"So she took off, sword in hand, to fight her way in?"

"I would imagine so. It would be just like her. But you may rest assured, I have absolutely no knowledge of her current whereabouts, nor have I done a single thing to place her in any sort of danger."

Qual-kehk thought Nihlathak was a snake and a rat who'd probably killed all the other elders while they were casting the dome of protection over Harrogath. But he wouldn't act against the last elder of Harrogath without some proof. Xanthippe wondered if any of the outsiders "assaulting" Mt. Arreat had given him such proof. Qual-kehk laughed in her face; the fact that they were there was proof enough of their motives. Even Larzuk was angry about Nihlathak.

"I wish I could have built my smoke flyer. Perhaps I might have seen some of what happened, and acted on it."

"Smoke flyer?" Xanthippe asked.

"Oh, that was just an idea of mine." Larzuk looked embarrassed. "Yoo see there, above my forge, how those banners billow up with the smoke? Watch this."

Larzuk reached up, and staked one of the banners over the smoke hole on his forge. The cloth billowed up as the heat rose underneath it. "Yoo see how the cloth catches the smoke, and rises? The first stake I put in tore out, so strong was the upward pull!"

"Ok... so what?"

"By my reckoning, if the smoke of the fire were caught in 20 sheepskins, it would give enough lift to carry a man aloft. I could float free as a cloud, to spy on Baal's legions, or perhaps drop explosive potions or hot oil. Higher than any arrow could fly, a warrior in such a flying device would usher in a new era of defense!"

"Um..." Xanthippe looked dubious. "How would you get smoke in 20 sheepskins, and keep it there? Seems to me it would blow away the minute you got away from the fire."

"Perhaps the warrior could carry some fire with him, to provide more smoke."

Kasim asked, "Do you think the skins might catch fire?"

"Well, that banner hasn't caught fire! Oh, yoo're right. Something like this really couldn't work. 'Tis folly to think on it."

"It might work," Xanthippe said, "but using fire is dangerous. Especially around anything flammable. Besides, how much of a fire would you need to make enough smoke to lift you? I mean, you might have to burn down the whole town."

Larzuk laughed! "Well, maybe send a woman up, then. Strength would not matter, if you're spying or throwing things down."

Xanthippe smiled. "Yeah. That might work. Anyway, I have to go look for Anya."

As they went through the waypoint, back to the mountain, Kasim asked, "Do you really want to look for this Anya girl?"

"Sure. If she went out alone, she probably would have been careful. Besides, I don't think she went after her aunt and uncle. Nihlathak's up to something."

"You think so?"

"One thing I've noticed, is that none of these Barbs are good at lying. Nihlathak is the only one who even tries, and he's pretty bad at it. Besides, I want to meet Anya."

"Even if she's 8 feet tall and has a beard?"

"Hey, if I'm going to help these people, it can't be through Malah. She's a sweet old lady, but if things are going to change up here, it will have to be through the young. Women who are still flexible, and can imagine a better way."

"Boss..." Kasim looked worried. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course." Xanthippe grinned. "Having new options is always good."

"No, I mean, what about Baal?"

"Oh, him." Xanthippe shrugged. "We'll get him. But I don't want to just win the war against the demons. Peace will come after, and I want to win that too."