The Dreamtrails: The Obernewtyn Chronicles

by Isobelle Carmody

  It was fascinating, though I asked if she did not fear to eat fish that had washed up dead on the beach. She answered that the fish were not dead when they washed up and that even if one threw a fish back into the waves, it would swim ashore again. I was pondering this, wondering what Ari-noor or Ari-roth would say of this determined suicide, when Kaman went on to tell me that the tribes believed the fish were regarded as a promise that one day the earth would be healed and that the feast on this night was a thanksgiving for the sea’s bounty, without which the Sadorians would not survive. This was a night, she added, when tribesfolk bestowed gifts upon one another to echo the gifting of the sea.

  At last, Kaman pronounced that my hair was finished. At her command, I removed the light wrap I had worn to soak up any excess oil, and she helped me dress in the exquisite blue and green silken robes that Jakoby had sent. They felt beautiful against my skin.

  Kaman bowed and departed, which was when I heard the desert horn. I took a deep breath and emerged from the tent. The desert looked like a frozen sea, with waves and troughs filled with greenish shadows running away into the indigo night, and the stars sparkled, despite the moon’s brightness. I drew a long deep breath of the sweet desert air and turned to look at the tents glowing white and billowing slightly. A number of people were walking among them and back toward the trade stalls, and I began to move in the same direction, farseeking Maruman, but he was either sleeping or had boarded the ship. I strove for Gahltha and, finding him wooing a Sadorian mare, withdrew at once, not wanting to interrupt.

  “Elspeth?” said a voice. Seely stood with Jakoby and Jak, clad in brown and gold sandsilk robes. Like mine, her hair had been elaborately plaited, and seeing the lovely and intricate design woven into it, I felt less self-conscious about my own hair.

  “Both of you look well in desert attire.” Jakoby approved so maternally that I guessed she must have gifted Seely, too, and I thanked her for my own clothes and for sending Kaman. I wanted to ask if she had any news of Bruna, who must surely be in Templeport, but before I could speak, Jakoby said briskly that we ought to go to the feasting ground, for Jak must make his speech to the tribe leaders before Bram spoke. She took Jak’s arm and drew him a little ahead with her as she began explaining the formalities that must be observed when presenting his gift of taint-eating insects. Jak said it was not so much a gift to the tribes as to the earth.

  “Nevertheless,” said Jakoby, “you must present the insects in this way, for what you propose to do will change the earth, and that is a very serious thing in our eyes. Indeed, you must present your gift specifically to the Earthtemple.”

  It dawned on me belatedly that Jakoby intended the teknoguilder to present his gift this night, and Seely confirmed this, saying that Jakoby had suggested it, for this was a night of gift-giving, and was not the bestowing of Jak’s insects a gifting?

  We were now passing through the trading area where numerous stalls and tables were laden with everything from oranges to glimmering stones, perfumes in tiny bottles, feather sunshades, and great soft bolts of sandsilk. Surprisingly few people were buying and browsing, but when I saw the number of people crossing the stretch of sand to our same destination, I realized that all Sadorians would attend the feast. The distance was not great, and soon I could see fifty enormous bonfires dug in a semicircle facing a long semicircular table at which sat all the tribe leaders. Fire pits and tables formed a complete circle, with two halves facing one another, and people sat about the fire pits on woven mats. The smell of cooking food was strong, and I realized that much of it was buried in the embers of the fire pits. But there were also young Sadorian boys and girls, beaming with pride, moving around the fire pits with trays of cold food and ceramic mugs of fement.

  “Come,” Jakoby said to Jak, and the teknoguilder smiled reassuringly at a suddenly anxious-looking Seely, saying he would join her soon.

  We were close to the last fire pit, and there were plenty of empty woven mats set down. Just as we took our places, Jakoby called for silence. Seeing Jak standing nervously beside the tribeswoman, I realized that the teknoguilder would speak immediately, and my stomach clenched in sympathy. To his credit, Jak looked pale but composed as Bram rose to present him to the tribes as a senior Misfit of Obernewtyn, explaining that on this night of thanksgiving, Jak wished to present a gift to the Earthtemple on behalf of his people, the Misfits.

  Then the old man took his seat. I knew Jak had no taste for speaking nor any particular skill at it, but he spoke without pretense and with care, and although his voice shook at first, it steadied as he became absorbed in explaining his interest in the shining insects that inhabited dark wet caves in the Land and his discovery that the tiny creatures could consume tainted matter and transform it within their bodies so that it was harmless. He told how he had conceived a plan to breed the insects until they were capable of surviving in the open, in the hope of being able to set them loose on the edge of the Blacklands to begin the massive task of undoing the damage that had been done to the earth. But all Blacklands were arid, and the tiny insects needed cool, dark, damp surroundings to thrive in their natural state; therefore, they would have to be bred to tolerate dryness and even heat. His research had been completed during his exile in the West land when he had finally succeeded in breeding a hardier if less long-lived form of the insect.

  “Given your reverence for the earth and your belief that healing is possible,” Jak said, “it seems more than fitting to me that this is where I will release my insects. Therefore, I offer my insects and my skill in settling them here in the desert lands as a gift to the Earthtemple.”

  The wording was formal and careful, and there was almost no response to his speech, save that the silence seemed very concentrated. Jakoby rose smoothly from the place she had taken at the end of the table and went to stand beside Jak, saying, “I would like to thank the teknoguilder Jak, who has brought to the desert lands a gift of even more extraordinary importance than he can guess, for his gift fulfills an old prophecy that says a day will come when the earth begins to heal itself, and from that day, no woman shall immerse herself in an isis pool. For once Jak releases the insects, it may truly be said that the earth has begun to heal itself.”

  I saw by Jak’s expression that he had not expected this announcement, and I suspected it was the same with Bram, though he was too canny to show his reactions openly. Other tribal leaders muttered and scowled to one another. Then a woman’s voice shouted out to accuse Jakoby of deliberately misinterpreting the prophecy because of her obsession with ending the practice of immersions.

  “It does not matter to you that other women do not fear the immersion, Jakoby, for in suffering, we show our allegiance to the wounded earth.”

  “The earth did not choose to be poisoned, Galia.”

  There was an uproar at this, with cries of anger and distress from the audience, and shouts that the immersions did not signify choosing to be poisoned but a sharing of the earth’s pain.

  Jakoby heard the latter and swung on the woman who had spoken. “And what of the babes who are deformed by this wondrous sharing, for it is they who must bear the burden of their mother’s choice,” she said icily.

  There was another outcry, and then a man called out to ask how the Earthtemple would survive if there were no more deformed babies to serve as Temple guardians.

  Jakoby’s eyes flashed, as if she had been waiting for this question. She said grimly to the man, “And now the truth comes to show its face. Are there no whole Sadorians who will offer themselves in service to the Earthtemple? Only those born maimed and crippled are worthy to serve the earth?”

  The ensuing hum of talk was less angry and more confused, but now Bram rose to say with authority and finality that this was a night of thanksgiving and not for angry debates. The gift offered by Jak had been properly announced, and the overguardian of the Earthtemple would either accept or spurn it. There was some low muttering, but Bram called to the chanters to offer the Song
of the Fish in praise of the sea, and soon their voices drowned out any protest.

  “What was all that about?” Seely whispered worriedly when the chant ended some minutes later and we had both been served mugs of a sweet light fement.

  “The Sadorians feel it is an honor for a woman to offer herself to the isis pools once a year. They are tainted, and by risking the health of any child they might be carrying, many Sadorians believe that they are showing their solidarity with the wounded earth. Any child born with deformities is given as a gift to the Earthtemple, where it will be cared for and trained up as a guardian,” I said.

  “And this prophecy Jakoby spoke of. Who made it?”

  “I do not know who prophesied it, but no doubt it was one of the kasanda. It is only Jakoby’s opinion that Jak’s insects fulfill the prophecy.”

  “You would think that the people here would be grateful that they need not risk their unborn children,” Seely said indignantly.

  “Some probably would be, but the immersions have become tradition, and people do not like breaking traditions. And, of course, they fear what will happen to the Earthtemple. For them, the deformities are natural in the guardians. They revere the guardians and are guided by them. A person deformed by reverence to the earth is no ordinary person. But to have an ordinary man or woman as a guardian or even an overguardian?” I shook my head.

  “A tradition based on harming unborn children is wrong,” Seely said.

  “So my mother says,” said a clear husky voice, and I looked up to see Jakoby’s lovely, long-limbed daughter, Bruna. She was clad in violet silks, and she sat beside Seely with the fluid grace of a silk cord, adding, “I think it is her greatest desire to see the practice of immersions end.”

  “Bruna!” I said. “I am glad you arrived safely. I did not see you when we came ashore, and I feared that something might have befallen you on the coast road.”

  “I did not go down to the ship, but I sent word with a friend to tell my mother where I had placed her tent.”

  I did not ask why she had not come to the ship, for it was obvious. “Why is Jakoby so opposed to the practice of immersion when the rest of your people see it as an honor?” I asked.

  Bruna turned her slanted golden eyes on me. “You must ask my mother that question, Guildmistress, for it is at the heart of her deepest sorrow.”

  I was startled by her words, for if I remembered correctly, the overguardian of the Earthtemple had told Jakoby that before she returned to Sador on the Umborine, she would encounter something that touched upon a deep sorrow. Did that mean that she had been sent out by the Earthtemple to bring back Jak and his insects since they would heal the isis pools and put an end to the practice of immersion? If so, then surely the Temple guardians would approve Jak’s gifting.

  I realized that Bruna was watching me, waiting for me to respond to her rebuff. In truth, I had half expected it, for the question had been an intimate one. But Bruna had dealt firmly and gracefully with me, and as she turned back to answer some question of Seely’s, it struck me that the young tribeswoman had lost her characteristic arrogance. There was no longer any haughtiness in her face or judgment in her eyes. Indeed, the last time I had seen her in Sutrium, Bruna had been a girl, lovely and half wild, but now she was a woman.

  Bruna remained with us for the length of two chant songs, singing exquisitely when everyone sang and between songs helping us get food from the embers to sample, recommending some and rejecting others. In the break between the chant songs, she asked numerous questions about Sutrium and events in the Land with an eagerness that surprised me. Yet she did not ask about Dardelan. Then she rose and departed as abruptly and unexpectedly as she had joined us.

  “She is very beautiful,” Seely said wistfully, gazing after her.

  My attention was not on Bruna but on Dardelan, who was approaching our fire pit from the other direction with Jak and Brydda. Obviously, Bruna had left because she had seen him, but from the tranquility on Dardelan’s face, either he had not seen Bruna or he truly cared nothing for her.

  As they sat down, Dardelan told me I looked splendid, and it was a pity that Rushton would not join us to admire my finery. He nodded toward the tables, and I turned to see that Rushton was now seated beside Bram, and the two men were speaking closely together. Rushton had a parchment before him and was now scribing something upon it. Not envying him, I turned back to find the others talking about Jak’s insects and the furor they had roused. The teknoguilder insisted he had not had any idea that his gift would be so controversial, and Dardelan asked what was involved in releasing the insects into the desert lands. Was it simply a matter of tipping them onto tainted earth? Jak shook his head, explaining earnestly that it would take him and Seely at least two moons to settle the insects, for they had to be carefully established as a colony somewhere near the edge of the Blacklands, and from there, they would gradually spread out.

  “I look forward to hearing of your progress, for I cannot truly see the Sadorians refusing your gift. It seems their objection concerns whether these insects mean the process of immersion is to end immediately or die out naturally as the isis pools lose their taint,” Dardelan said. “How do you plan to return to the Westland when this work is done? If you will travel by sea, I would be glad if you would stop a night at Sutrium and give us your news.”

  “Seely and I mean to travel by the coast road to Obernewtyn after we have finished here,” Jak said. “But it will be no hardship to stop a night to exchange news in Sutrium on our way back to the Westland.”

  “You will be my honored guests,” Dardelan promised. “But perhaps you will decide not to go back to the Westland, once you have been at Obernewtyn again.”

  “There is a lifetime’s work for me in the Beforetime complex,” Jak said simply.

  “What will you do with the knowledge you gain of the Beforetime?” Jakoby asked. The glint in her eyes as she joined us made me think that she had been engaged in more than one fiery discussion following her speech.

  The teknoguilder met her gaze steadily. “I will use what I learn as best I can, to serve our time.”

  “Are you sure the knowledge of the Beforetime will serve this world?” Jakoby countered. “Some say that it is enough to live in the aftermath of the mistakes made by the Beforetimers, without courting the danger of dabbling in their knowledge.”

  “So said the Council,” Jak replied, “but knowledge is no more evil than a knife. It is how knowledge and knives are wielded that makes them evil or not.”

  “I do not doubt you or your motives, my friend,” Jakoby said. “But like a knife, knowledge can all too easily fall into the hands of those who will have no scruples about using it.”

  The teknoguilder sighed a little. “This is a dance of words I cannot win. Let me ask you a question instead. My hunger for knowledge gave me the gift that I offered tonight to the tribes. Do you say I should not have sought that knowledge or brought it here to put into practice?”

  Jakoby held his gaze and finally said, “No, I do not say that.” She laughed then and seemed to relax. “For one who does not dance with words, my friend, you have a quick-stepping mind.”

  Seely gave me an expectant look, and I knew she was willing me to ask why Jakoby had been so determined to end the practice of immersion. But instead, I said lightly that we had seen Bruna and that she looked well. I was watching Dardelan covertly, and I saw him stiffen and then master himself. His reaction made me feel gleeful. Jakoby merely answered equably that she did look well. “I only wish she had not decided to work for a season in the spice groves, for I had hoped to spend some time with her.” She did not look at the young high chieftain at all, as if she had forgotten there was ever anything between him and her daughter.

  I asked, “When will she leave?”

  “Tomorrow,” Jakoby said. “Those who will serve always leave before the final feast of the conclave, for the grove cannot be left unattended for more than a fiveday. She will leave at dusk.” />
  “She will be happier in the desert than she was in the Land,” Dardelan said flatly.

  “If you think it, then I know it must be so,” Jakoby said to him coolly. She rose with the same sinuous grace as her daughter and looked at me. “Guildmistress?”

  I stared up at her stupidly before realizing that she was asking me to accompany her. I got to my feet with clumsy haste, mumbling a farewell to the others, and followed her through the throng. She led me away from the feast site and toward the trade stalls. A silky breeze blew, carrying the scents of cook fires and perfumed oils and salt to us, and I asked if Bruna really meant to leave for the desert so soon.

  Jakoby’s laughter echoed merrily over the moon-drenched sand dunes. “Did you see Dardelan’s face when I said she would leave tomorrow?”

  “Then it is not true?”

  “It will be true, if I have not lit enough of a fire in Dardelan’s belly to hunt a mate,” Jakoby said crisply.

  “Hunt?” I echoed.

  “Three hours before dawn tomorrow, any man may hunt any woman whose name he has scribed on a stone and set into the bowl that stands before the tent of the tribal leader of the woman he desires, so long as she is not mated to another or deemed too young. The woman is given the stones at midnight as a warning, and she has an hour’s start on her hunters. She may favor the man when she glimpses his face, but still the man must catch her.

  The hunt ends at dawn.”

  “That is barbaric,” I said, appalled.

  She grinned. “It would be, if those hunted were not tribeswomen.”

  “Dardelan is no tribesman,” I said.

  “For this night, he must become one if he would have Bruna. He let her flutter from his fingers when she had given herself to him like a tamed bird, and now she has returned to the tribes. So now he must hunt her in the desert way. Right at this moment, several of my tribesmen are telling Dardelan of the hunt, and one of them will boast that he means to hunt Bruna. He is a strong, handsome warrior whom any woman might desire for a mate.”