by Robin Roseau
"I have known this woman since she first arrived in Marport. She was ten and three years old when we first met, and I only a little older. We became friends, deep, close friends, and she told me nearly everything of her life, and I did the same. She told me of her life before coming to Framara, her life on the cold, dry plains past the great divide, her life as a girl of the horse people."
I brushed a tear away against my shoulder, reminded of everything she had destroyed.
"She told me about life on the steppes. She told me about her clan, led by her grandfather. She told me about her father, a man of the horse people, and not a man I would like to meet."
She paused only a moment.
"And she told me of her mother, who was not of the horse people. Her mother has black hair, as black as night, and cut very short, cut like Lady Yallameenara's hair is cut, only roughly by the father. Hacked with a knife, and Lady Yallameenara's hair hacked exactly the same."
"What has this to do with anything?"
"Patience," said the king. "This all has purpose."
"Larien," Muranna said. "This is yours to explain."
"Lady Yallameenara, look upon my hair."
"It has changed," I said.
"I dyed it before traveling to Framara," she said. "I had to dye it every few days, as this is how it looks naturally."
"Hair doesn't look like that naturally," I said.
"Mine does," she said. "This is the mark of the Goddess. Black as night." She gestured. "White as snow. Then black. Then white. The Goddess does this, and so when a child is born with hair like this, we know she is a child of the Goddess."
I looked around, and there were nods from the audience, even before the translation. And then more nods.
"Come closer," Larien offered. "Look as closely as you like." She stepped to me, and she showed me her hair, running fingers through it. "It was dyed when first you met me. This is not dyed. And it is rich and supple and will remain like this until the day I die. That is the mark of the Goddess."
I didn't say anything.
"My hair is like this," she said. "And the hair of the high priestess is like this. And her daughter's hair is like this. My daughters may not have this hair, but the high priestess breeds true. Her daughter has hair like this. Why do you cut your hair, Lady Yallameenara?
"This means nothing," I said.
"Do you know why your father hacked your mother's hair, and yours? Of course, he would not wish to see this symbol. We believe he knew who your mother was. We believe he knew something else."
"Oh?" I asked. "What is that?"
"A priestess of Yahalamala wears her magic in her hair. If you cut our hair, we lose our magic and do not regain it until the tips are fully white, like mine are. He cut your mother's hair, and later yours, so you could not use the magic of Yahamala."
* * * *
I turned away, saying nothing. They let me alone. Finally I turned back. "Short hair means nothing."
"When your hair grows like mine, you will believe," Larien said. "But we have more proof."
"Your own words," Muranna said. "It was a year ago I heard the words, the words you told me your mother taught you, the day Princess Juleena took you from her."
I turned to her. "The words aren't Altearan."
"No, they are not," she agreed. "But I recognized the language, and I recognized one or two words. Lady Yallameenara, say those words now."
"No."
"Are you afraid?" asked the king. "Are you afraid of the truth?"
"This is all insane," I said firmly. "You should not have shared those words, Muranna. Was that the first of your betrayal?"
"Say the words, Lady Yallameenara."
"Those words were from my mother to me."
"You told me she said when you understood what they meant, you would know what to do. Don't you want to know what they mean?"
"You could have told me that a year ago."
"I could not," she said. "I only recognized the language, one word, and thought perhaps another. Say the words now, loudly and clearly."
I turned to the king and queen. "If the words do not mean what she thinks, will you return me home as I demanded."
The two communed for only a moment. It was the queen who answered. "We have not heard the words from you," she said. "If the words mean we have been wrong, then we will return you as you have requested, and we will ensure Queen Ralalta knows the truth."
"You both swear?"
"We swear," they said together, raising their hands. "But you must swear to say the words as your mother taught you," added the king.
"I would not lie. I don't need to lie."
I was suddenly afraid, terribly afraid. I mumbled the words. Yahtize málon forseck a milona prestainamatta varth. I mumbled without looking at anyone.
The queen stepped closer. Then she knelt before me and began to untie my hands. My heart soared, thinking she was releasing me. It took her time to release my hands, and then she bent all the way to the floor and untied my ankles as well. I rubbed my wrists and said nothing.
And then, as I watched, she kissed my boots.
"What are you doing?" I hissed. "Stop that. Your Majesty! Even if I am who you think I am, you can't do that!"
She kissed the other one, indicating that yes, she very well could, but then I helped her to rise. There were tears in her eyes, and she said very gently, "Lady Yallameenara, turn to them." She gestured. "Say the words, loudly and clearly. Say them so everyone can hear you."
"No," I whispered.
"Do not be afraid," she said. "There is nothing to fear."
"What do they mean?"
"I cannot answer you. But someone here can. Say the words. Say them with pride. Please. I beg you. Say them for all to hear."
I let her turn me. Everyone was watching. I took a deep breath, and I said the words. Yahtize málon forseck a milona prestainamatta varth. I stumbled over them, but the queen said, "Again. Say them again."
So I did. I said them again, and then once more.
The audience turned to each other. I think perhaps they didn't believe any of it, not until I spoke, but they turned to each other and began talking. Some hugged tightly. Some began to cry.
"No," I whispered. "No. I'm just a girl of The Hippa, a girl of the horse people. That is all I am."
"No, Lady Yallameenara," said the queen to me. "You are far, far more than that."
I turned back to her. "It's not Altearan."
"No. It is not. But we were not wrong."
"You are. You are!"
At that, the king raised a hand, paused, and then gave a shouted command. The room grew silent, or nearly so, broken only by the sound of some people continuing to cry.
"What language is it?" I asked. "What do the words mean?"
"I am not the one to ask," said the queen. "You must ask another." And she pointed to Larien.
I turned to her. "You're all wrong," I said.
"No, Lady Yallameenara," she said.
"What language?"
"The Goddess has her own language," Larien said. "It is spoken only by the Goddess and her priestesses."
"No. No."
"We do not give it a name. We only call it the language of the Goddess. And no one but a priestess of the Goddess could have taught you those words, Lady Yallameenara. No one else, save the Goddess herself."
"No."
She moved closer. "You know I am not lying." She gestured. "They recognize the language. Do you think this is some farce? Do you think we would risk everything for some joke? What other reason could we have?"
"I don't know. Perhaps there is a lost high priestess, and you need a figurehead for the people."
"Think that through," said the king. "Are you complicit in such an arrangement? Do you think your mother planned such a farce?"
"What does it mean? What words did I just say?"
"Your accent is terrible," Larien said. "And you mispronounced some of the words. Could it have been this instead
?" And then she repeated the words, just a little differently, but I could easily have learned the words wrong.
"I don't know. It was six years ago, and she only had moments to teach me."
Larien moved a little closer, and then she spoke at length, not in Framaran, and not in Altearan, but in another language, and I could tell immediately it was the same language my mother had used. She came to an end, and she smiled. "I am not faking my words. They are the same language, are they not?"
"I don't know," I said, dropping my gaze.
"Do not lie, Lady Yallameenara. You know."
And so, I nodded slowly. "What do my words mean?"
"The way you said them, not all the words are right. But the way I said them... Could my pronunciation be right?"
"Say it again." And so she did. "I don't know," I said. "Maybe. Probably, unless there are other words you could pick that also fit."
"There are not," she said. "At least not and still make sense."
"What do they mean?"
"When you speak Arrlottan, do the words come the same way as when you speak Framaran?"
"No. They are quite different, and Framaran is far more complex."
"So it is with the language of the Goddess," she said. "And so I do not translate each word one at a time, but all of them together."
"What did my mother teach me?"
"Lady Yallameenara," said Larien. "Your mother taught you to say, 'I am the daughter of the high priestess to the Goddess'."
A Certain Acceptance
Larien dropped to her knees again, her head bent all the way to the floor. "I am your servant, my high priestess," she said.
The king and queen each spoke in Altearan for a moment, and then everyone in the room gave out a huge cry and sank to their knees again, including the king and queen. But I stared down at Larien.
"You lie."
"No, Lady Yallameenara," she said. "To what purpose would I lie?"
"Get up," I said. "All of you get up!"
Nearly everyone stayed down, but Larien rose.
"Lady Yallameenara, why would I lie? If I lie, your hair will not grow to resemble mine. If I lie, the Goddess will not speak to you. Why would I lie? Why would we do all of this?"
"Maybe the words mean, 'I betrayed the high priestess'."
"Why would your mother teach you words like that?"
I looked around. "Get up!" I said. "Please don't do that. Please get up!"
They didn't, but the Larien spoke, and slowly the king and queen rose. No one else did. I turned to them. "Please tell them to get up," I said. "Even her." I pointed to Muranna, practically flat on her face.
"Do you accept your role?" asked the king.
"No, I do not accept my role! You're all insane. I just want to go home. Please let me go home."
"Lady Yallameenara," said the queen, her tone gentle. "Do you truly think everyone in this room is insane? Do you truly believe everyone in this room is lying? Can you think of any reason, other than what we have told you, for us to act in this way? The queen of Alteara kissed your boots, Lady Yallameenara. Why would I do that?"
"Why did you do it this way? Why not approach openly?"
"I believe," said the queen, "that is a discussion for a much smaller audience."
"Perhaps you are hungry," said Larien. "Dinner approaches, and we are told you ate poorly the last week."
"I am not sitting down at some state dinner."
"A quiet meal," said the king. "The five of us."
"No." I turned to Larien. "You." I turned around and walked to Muranna. "You. Get up and look me in the eye."
She stood, and it took her a moment, but she looked into my eyes and offered a ghost of a smile.
"I suppose you think you're some hero to your people."
"That's not why I did it."
"I suppose you're going to receive some reward."
"That's not why I did it, either. I did it because you belong here, Yalla."
"Lady Yallameenara!" I screamed at her, and she ducked her head a moment, then raised her eyes.
"I know you hate me," she said. "That part makes me sick. I have always been your friend. Even in doing this I have been your friend. Maybe someday you'll forgive me."
I considered. "Maybe I could, if you hadn't done this in a way Ralalta believes I turned traitor. Maybe I could if I could ever see them again. But you could never let me tell the truth. The price would be too high for both countries. Better I am a traitor. Better I betrayed Ralalta than there be war, or whatever might happen instead. And so, Ralalta believes I am a traitor, run away after everything she had done for me. Run away after promising, over and over, I wouldn't defy her."
Muranna lowered her eyes.
"That I can never forgive. I never want to see you again. You are of my past. Leave."
She looked into my eyes, nodded, and slowly stepped away. I heard her begin to cry long before she left the room. The sound broke a portion of my heart, but I steeled myself.
I turned back to the king and queen. "There are lingering questions," I said.
"Yes," agreed the king.
"I require time to compose myself," I said. "And a meal. A simple meal. And then you will answer my questions."
He nodded.
I turned to Larien. "I don't know where she went. Take me where ever you're going to take me, but I do not want to catch even a glimpse of her. You will not say her name to me or mention her to me. I do not want to know what happens to her. If she climbs a tower and throws herself off in agony of what she has done, I do not want to know. If she is rewarded with riches beyond all belief, I do not want to know."
But I spun back to the king and queen and hissed. "But you will never send her into Framara again, and she will never pretend to be a friend to Framara again."
They both nodded. I spun back to Larien. "Let's go."
She offered a gesture, and I stomped down the steps. I got halfway to the exit before I came to a stop.
The audience was still kneeling to me.
I raised my voice again. "Those of you who understand my words, stand up. Now."
They were slow about it, but a few stood. Perhaps one in ten or so.
"No one kneels to me," I said. "Ever again. Spread the word. I will accept a brief curtsey or bow as might be offered to any lord or lady, but no more. Tell the rest of these people to stand up, and never do this again."
Several spoke, and then several more, and slowly the people stood up. I spun around. "Did you two hear me?"
"We heard you," replied the queen.
"Good." I spun and stomped from the room as best I could with my hobbled feet.
* * * *
Larien brought me back to the same room as before. Once inside, the guards untied me before stepping out, presumably to guard the exit. The maids were waiting, standing where they had before. I hoped they hadn't just been standing there this entire time. I came to a stop and looked at them as Larien closed the door behind us.
"Dinner will arrive shortly," Larien said. "I do not know what it will be. I suspect the cooks had something intricate planned."
"My stomach is in knots," I said. "Do you really expect me to call you by that name?"
"I rather like it," she said. "And I believe you do as well."
"These two," I said, turning back to the two girls. "Who are they?"
"Your maids."
"You mean, my maids tonight."
"Did they please you?"
"What has that to do with it?"
"They will leave with us. They are now your maids, unless they did not please you."
I stepped to the first girl. They were both a year or two younger than I was, and quite lovely. One had chestnut hair and deep, brown eyes. The other's hair was black, with hazel eyes and slightly rounder features. "What are their names?"
Larien spoke, and then the first, the one with chestnut hair, said a long name. It sounded something like Naddíqualestra. I tried putting my mouth around the name, but
then turned to Larien. "Am I even going to be able to say that?"
That was a brief smile. She again spoke in Altearan, and the girl responded. "Her full name means Girl with Red Hair. She offers Naddí, which is simply Red."
"I do not want to call her a color."
More words, and Larien said, "This is what her friends call her, and she would be pleased if you felt free to do so."
"Naddí," I said, and the girl nodded. "And the other?"
That name was just as long. Larien repeated it and said, "It means Sweet Girl of Summer."
"Please tell me there's something shorter."
"She offers Féla. It means 'warm', but can be a way of saying 'summer'."
"Féla," I repeated, and she nodded. I turned back to Larien. "I do not need maids."
"Frankly, Lady Yallameenara, you do."
"I have no intention of dressing in fancy clothes that require any assistance."
"They will ease your life and bring you comfort." I narrowed my eyes. "Not that sort of comfort!" she added. "Well, I suspect they would both be quite pleased to offer that, but it's not what I meant. Lady Yallameenara, if they displease you, it is easier to send them away than it would be to acquire others that you could sample before deciding."
"Sample?"
"The bath! I just meant the bath, and the care they offered earlier. Must you be so distrustful?"
"I have cause," I said. "They must have family here. Friends. Lives."
"What do you want, Lady Yallameenara? Do you believe there are two other maids you would prefer instead?"
"Two that spoke Framaran."
"I'm sorry. The sort of people who learn Framaran are not the sort of people who become sweet maids, and these two are very sweet and very good."
"How about Arrlottan, then?"
She laughed lightly at that.
"They have lives here. You said we're going somewhere isolated, at least if I don't talk the king and queen out of this ridiculous plan."
"Did you enjoy the bath?"
"Larien-"
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"Did you like their care?"
"Yes."
"Do you find them sweet and lovely?"
"Do you think I am the sort to use a maid in that fashion?"
"No, but you are the sort to make friends of your maids."
