Fire Sanctuary

by Katharine Eliska Kimbriel

  “That does not surprise me. She has nine lives, that one,” Roe graciously supplied.

  Accepting her calm agreement, the woman on her right took up the tale. “We do not know yet what plans have been made or can be made. The troops at the bottom of the hills claim this is Fewha work and believe that invasion is imminent. But a count was taken in the dark—at least three battleships and two cruisers were destroyed by the GTAs. If so, it will take time for reinforcements to arrive. As you are aware, Fewhas have a reputation of decimating the home population before moving on. Perhaps it would have been safer to play dead, rather than indicate that the survivors have some fight left in them.”

  “No ‘playing’ would have been necessary, elder,” Ronüviel replied.

  “What else, Serae? We cannot stay here. Shall we return to Amura? The fires must first be brought under control.”

  “Yes—and more importantly, the danger of disease must be removed. Fortunately it is cold. But we cannot hesitate. Every able-bodied man and woman must return to the city in carefully controlled groups, with special assignments. Even before we seek personal possessions, some must gather wood, others prepare a place for a fire, still others gather materials for the rites. Any recorders that exist must be used to take fingerprints if it is possible, or footprints of infants. This will be very important to the families, to be certain of the fates of their people. We need to establish areas to care for children while their parents help—or for those whose parents have not been found. We must expand the medical area I saw, allow the whole cavern for this.”

  “We would house you and the other key personnel there also.” As Ronüviel started to protest, the woman hurried on. “You are most assuredly the eldest woman of Ila’s line left alive. Perhaps the only one. And the only single individual here who can give orders that will be obeyed. I can command my district—if I can find them. So, too, the others. But we are not majority leaders, much less the synod leaders. We cannot command and be followed by all. You must do this, Serae, until the Atare joins us—if he can.”

  Roe waited. “I would prefer more information before we send groups back. They should seek the Atare and give him my words. Most likely he has instigated the same program.”

  “Would the words of the high priest suffice?” The gathering turned to the entrance. “Word comes that Arrez approaches and brings his family and others with him. We think he bears the eternal fire,” the young man added, nodding his pardon to the small session. His excitement was plain in the way he threw shut the entrance robe. Roe bowed her head, saying a small, swift prayer of thanks that the priest had survived. Now if only Braan had ...

  She stood slowly. “We must get to the nearest granaries, make sure the food is not contaminated, and build fires to ward off fevers. It may be that come next morning we shall be on our way to Amura—Mt. Amura.”

  The group stared blankly at her. “Serae?”

  “We have jested for years that we could build a city in the caverns of that mountain. Perhaps we shall.” She started out the canvas opening. “I have patients to attend to. Please divide up those areas—swiftly—and get to work. If you have difficulties and my name will not serve, I have my signet. Find some wax and seek me.” She stepped out into a brilliant starrise and started for the caves.

  oOo

  Elana and Arrez found her there when they could finally get away from the crowds. Arrez planted the flame outside the caverns and saw immediately that it would have to be moved to the hill—too many people wanted to light candles from it and pray near it. The elders sought them out, begging Elana to take over the medical area. She was quiet; many of these same individuals had recently sought her downfall. But she did not hesitate. As she disappeared into the caves Arrez inquired about the state of affairs in the encampment.

  What he was told both pleased and disquieted him, but his relief over Roe washed out everything else. Telling the elders that the new Atare also wished to begin building funeral pyres as soon as possible, Arrez hurried into the cavern.

  He found Elana practically ordering Ronüviel to lie down. A medtech had spread blankets next to Moran, and Roe was in no condition to argue with anyone. Elana had pulled out her diagnostician’s box and passed it above Roe’s body. She examined the readings with alarm and then looked to Roe again. Suspicion crossed her face. Changing the subject setting, she tried once more. Then she studied the results. “You gave yourself a radiation shot?”

  “Yes.”

  “A strong one? Level two, three?”

  “Level two,” Roe answered, no longer interested, her gaze resting on Moran. Arrez looked pained at the sight of the active young man, now so reduced. His firstwife, meanwhile, had asked for a booster hypo and, upon receiving it, gave Roe another injection.

  “I was worried—so much medication for it at once—I was not sure.”

  “I am, and you did well. All of this healing has drained your reserve. You must sleep now and regenerate yourself,” Elana said firmly.

  Arrez leaned close to her. “Should we tell her now?”

  “About Braan—the rest should wait.”

  “What rest?” came Roe’s voice.

  Arrez smiled wanly. Her exhaustion had not dimmed her hearing.

  “Braan Atare rules, as was meant to be,” came a voice. “And he will take things in hand, as should have been done long ago. Do not cross him. His mood is fell now, and shall be for much time to come.” They looked up to see Mariah standing at the foot of the makeshift bed, Chaka’s youngest asleep in her arms. She turned her gaze on Elana. “I stay with the little ones. Others return to Amura.” Elana nodded. Mariah’s mystical ability to deal with children could be invaluable.

  “Baskh and Rebekah are gone,” Arrez went on, not sure what Mariah might say. She had been preoccupied since the bombing, rarely speaking. “Tal, Deveah, Libra and Persephone are definitely dead—I identified the bodies. Tal’s two sons also, and all spouses. Deveah’s son lives, although his radiation poisoning is bad and he has broken bones. Braan’s two are missing. Kavan is with Braan.”

  Ronüviel closed her eyes to conceal her relief. Thank Mendülay. Without Braan no one would survive.

  “Liel was seen just as the bombing began—they are digging out the entrance to the shelter even now. We know people are in there, we can hear shouts, but nothing intelligible,” Elana broke in, not wanting Roe to feel as if she was the only throne-line Atare woman left. “Also I have seen several members of your mother’s family. I shall send for them.”

  “We shall need the bone fuser, if it was not destroyed,” Roe said abruptly, the doctor in her taking over. Then she was vague. “The ... other planets?” She was adding up relatives in her head.

  “Nothing since the attack began in earnest,” Arrez said quietly. “Do not be concerned for Deenn or your mother or the prime minister. They can take care of themselves.”

  “We monitored their shield activating,” Elana added.

  “Kal?” she asked finally, fighting sleep. Her serious baby brother, a child no longer. Lord, she needed his strength.

  “Kavan ... lost him in the crowds. A guaard was with him. We have heard nothing either way.”

  “He is alive,” came Mariah’s voice. All turned her way as she gracefully walked down the aisle to the mouth of the cave. “Else how could I have dreamt of Kalith Atare?” No one spoke. Ronüviel felt herself shivering uncontrollably. There was only one way for Kalith to become Atare....

  AMURA

  TIERCE

  Braan sat quietly beside the body, unaware of the masses moving around him. This one had been young, the twins’ age; as a matter of record, a friend of theirs. He had been Braan’s assistant, handling correspondence, visitors, art sales, and all excursions off-world. He was also dead. The name Carobdus flitted to the surface of Braan’s mind. He stoically punched in the name on his pocket recorder, the instrument humming efficiently. Then he reached down and removed the boy’s side recorder. Such work would keep someone bu
sy—Kavan maybe. He was chopping firewood, trying not to worry about Kal, telling all who wanted reassurances that he “would know” if Kalith was dead.

  “Do you cheer them or yourself?” Braan murmured aloud.

  A warrior approached him. “Atare? We have reached deep enough to speak to them. There is no hurry, they have plenty of fresh air, and injuries were minimal.”

  Braan glanced up abruptly. “And?”

  “They say the serae and a tall, blonde woman pried the cover off the air vent and left. A few followed—they were seeking the source of the current. The fresh air increased later on; perhaps they knocked out the vent piece at—“ Braan had stood and moved away from Carobdus’ body during this explanation, two men discreetly moving in and removing it; his movement was a wasted gesture. A huge, long-legged descendant of Earth’s kingly hounds came bounding out of nowhere, knocking Braan to the street in his delight. Zair proceeded to clean Braan’s face for him, over muffled protests and strangled sounds.

  “Blasted mutt! If you ever want children, will you g—” Braan’s laughing order was cut off by Liel’s viselike grip around his neck. Recognizing her, he pulled her close, as if trying to protect her from everything around them. Gasping, choking back sobs, she buried her face in his shoulder. Her brother said nothing, holding her tightly, closing his eyes to hide tears.

  When he opened them, he found the fresh starlight blocked off. Squinting, he saw the tall blonde of the gardens and the landing bay—Teloa, was it? He also sensed immediate, if unvented, hostility from the gathering. Of course - she was probably one of the few newcomers left; most were killed by the luna which struck the embassy quarter, or had departed in the Gerrymander, Griffon or Hydra. She was a planter. They needed planters. A smart one, to find her way through the duct maze. This had to end, here and now.

  Gently shaking Liel, Braan climbed to his feet. To send them to the mountains or keep them? He decided quickly. Even with Zair on guard the woman’s life was in danger should she so much as speak a word against the people. “Treason” was on everyone’s lips as it was. Only his family could guarantee her safety, and he dreaded putting that on Liel.

  He turned to Teloa. “Thank you for your care of my sister.” Braan made sure it carried to the group. Then, to Liel, he said; “We need assistance. Would you rather ... identify people or go to Roe? She is with child, and I imagine this has been a severe shock to her system. She will need help, although she will not admit it. Kavan is at the crossroads. Take him with you.” He paused, digging in the pouch at his side. He pulled out the chain of office, its stones flashing brilliantly in the risen star’s light. Liel touched it tenderly, knowing without asking. “Take this to her ... for safekeeping. And await my return.”

  She gazed up at him, despair and hope flaring briefly in her face. She started to loop it around her neck and then stopped herself.

  Dropping the chain down the front of her shirt, she stood, turning to Teloa. “Do you—”

  “She will stay with Zair and me,” Braan went on smoothly. “Second Officer, will you please escort the serae to the Chardonnay foothills? Arrez’s messenger stated that the Ragäree is there. Pick up Seri Kavan on your way.” He waved shyly to Liel in parting, and made a brief, funny face for her. She attempted to brighten at his lunacy and followed the guaard. Braan then matched Teloa’s scrutiny.

  “For the time being you will stay with me,” Braan said, his voice dropping slightly in volume. “Your life may be in danger from people seeking scapegoats.” He took hold of the big dog’s collar. “Zair—guard,” he said clearly, pointing to Teloa. The hairy deerhound peered up at him, wagged its tail slightly and walked over next to Tay. “Good dog.”

  “And what am I to be doing in your company?” she asked.

  He abruptly surveyed her. There was no coolness or sarcasm in her voice. “Can you keep records?”

  “What kind?”

  “All kinds,” he answered, extending the recorder to her. “Figures, correspondence, historical—my scripter is dead. For awhile you can succeed him and probably later function as a go-between for the city dwellers and the planters.” She took the recorder. “That will depend on your talents in both areas and whether you still need protection.” Braan held up a package of tape dots. “I want originals of these tonight; we need to get an idea of our losses.” Without further comment he began walking down the hill into the city, several guaard following.

  oOo

  Teloa stood silent, watching his retreating figure. Zair whined after him and then pawed at her leg. There had been no malice in Braan—she believed he had intended no insult. But too much was upon him, and there was no time to be gentle. Tay threw the recorder strap over her shoulder. One who had been both planter and scripter in her time had no need to fear the demands of Nuala. She started down the hill at a brisk walk, the deerhound bounding ahead.

  CHARDONNAY MOUNTAIN, SOUTH CAVE

  VESPERS

  Teloa kept her gaze on the rough ground beneath her, aware she was watching for more than one set of feet. The girl Shinar was exhausted and disoriented and had stumbled more than once. Supporting Shinar’s other side was Kalith, who was grim, silent. She knew what he had been doing this long day—helping to find bodies for the fires. It had been hard enough to comb the ruins for survivors. Teloa had not been surprised when the youth became emotional at the sight of Shinar. Nor had his response to Braan amazed her; emotion ran deep in these Atares, for all their cool facades.

  She and Zair had found Shinar, half-buried in a hallway of the home of Arrez’s fourthwife, Chaka. The older woman was dead when they found her—whether from the bombing or her own radiation, the healers still were not certain. Arriving back at the temple, the search group had found Kalith, the last missing Atare; he was burning the bodies of his kin. How long for those scars to heal? Now they approached the mountains—at least they looked like mountains to Teloa. The hills, a guaard had said to her. And Ronüviel was there, the people following her without question. Whatever gods there be, you have planned this well. Did so many have to die for your will?

  There was a fluttering of blue robes, and Shinar was seized in Elana’s urgent grip. The girl began to weep, and though her mother tried to comfort her, neither was fooled. Elana’s eldest was dead, Kal had told them—from the bombs. The young Atare slipped away from the two women, and Teloa followed his example. She passed the high priest as she approached the cave; he was oblivious to all save Elana and Shinar.

  Ronüviel left the cave and embraced her younger brother. Kal began to speak urgently; Teloa caught the words Dylan and Asiai. The youth looked concerned. Braan’s children ...

  A crowd pressed up the hill behind them, and Teloa knew Braan had arrived. The excitement, the electricity in the air was tangible. Teloa melted into the gathering within the cave’s mouth, the great hound Zair at her heels. Roe pulled Kal to her side and faced Braan. The man appeared composed, but his look was for Ronüviel alone.

  They stood mere centimeters apart as the sound of the gathering faded into the breeze. Ronüviel pulled out the chain of office, weighing its trine gold links, achingly touching the rubies studding its length. Then she connected the long circlet and gently slipped it over Braan’s head, carefully letting it settle down his chest.

  “Eo Mendulai^n Nuala, for Mendülay and the people,” she began, “until our Lord requests your presence on the Last Path. A-tu yai Atare!”

  A-tu yai Atare!” The crowd roared with one voice the ancient rallying cry. For the first time since the devastation Tay felt there might be a chance.

  CHARDONNAY MOUNTAIN

  COMPLINE

  The activity that night in the camp was subdued. People were too exhausted to notice the warriors arriving with special military equipment, the tireless Jaac giving discreet directions. Low, haunting song rose occasionally, filled with somber thanksgiving to High Mendülay for the salvation of the people. The crying of children had stilled, as well as most weeping. Braan could hear Ro
e’s voice rise and fall as she told a gatuhlpa, a great tale, out of Nuala’s past. Now more than ever her place as an oral historian would be important. Who knew what was left in the various computer banks?

  For the first time Braan walked into the cave toward the small offshoot that was designated as his. He was having difficulty concentrating, Dylan’s face intruding into his thoughts. No amount of comfort would help the boy right now; he blamed himself totally for Asiai’s seizure by a fleeing ambassador. Asiai ... if only the ships made it; if only she were on one. And if so, what then?

  As he passed by the makeshift beds he caught sight of Moran and Lyte. Pain was mixed with fury as he looked at them. Had they known, could they have stood by and— He shook his head violently, trying to drive the thought from his mind. That was one thing he could not allow himself to believe—not for a moment. As if aware of his scrutiny, Lyte opened his eyes and met Braan’s marbled ones. They stared at each other a long minute. Not sure Lyte could see him in the darkness, Braan stepped over and knelt down next to him.

  A faint smile passed Lyte’s lips. Slowly, painfully raising his arm, Lyte grabbed Braan’s belt knife and clumsily handed it to him hilt first. “If you ... believe that, kill ... now. Else—never—again men-tsun.” Braan did not answer, not even to match the sardonic smile with one of his own. He reached and took the knife and, delicately taking Lyte’s wrist, set the man’s arm back down at his side. The warrior took another ragged gasp and closed his eyes. Tucking the knife back in his thong, Braan stood and continued toward the back.

  Not a traitor. Lyte was many things, good and perhaps even evil, but not a traitor, not to anyone or anything with honor. Braan rounded the rocky curve and entered the small area which had been prepared for him. A soft bed had been made up on the smooth dirt, and next to it was a basin and a pitcher filled with clear water. Towels were piled on the bed, and a votive candle cast a dim glow over everything.

  Braan remembered something; swiftly he retraced his steps and entered the night. He moved around the cave entrance toward the last hill and then stopped. It was ablaze with light. Where the brethren had found so many candles Braan did not know, but they were there, the eternal flame flickering above them. In a daze Braan reached down and picked up a candle from the box at his feet. Lighting it, he set it at the base of the knoll and turned back to the cave.