Rook

by Robin Roseau

  “Do you two always do that?”

  “No. The last time was before we were married, the trip you came with us. First and last, actually. I believe you felt the effects.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I remember. So. Um. Everyone?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Ralalta?” she asked, disbelief in her voice.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You can tell?”

  “Of course. I am the High Priestess. Our Prestainamatta’s magic flows through me.”

  We still lay side by side on the altar. “I’m not sure I can move,” she said.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m going to carry you,” I said. I rolled away from her and struggled to sit then looked for our clothing. It was spread around on the ground to one side of the altar. I slipped to my feet and began rummaging, picking pieces from the ground, shaking them briefly, and setting them on the altar.

  “I think I’m supposed to feel jealous,” Alta said. “And I’m almost positive Juleena should.”

  “She made some adjustments.”

  “Juleena?”

  “The Goddess. It feels like a four-way marriage, doesn’t it?”

  Alta was quiet for a moment. I busied myself with the clothing, sliding things into place. Finally I turned to her. She carried a thoughtful expression while she pulled her own clothes on.

  “Are you upset?”

  “No. How could I be upset when I feel this wonderful? And you’re right. That’s exactly how it feels. She’s been part of this since the beginning, or at least for me.” She paused. “Have you talked to Juleena about it?”

  “Years ago,” I said. I laughed. “She wasn’t jealous about you. And that’s when I asked the Goddess about it.”

  We finished dressing, with Alta stepping over to me to adjust my clothing when we were done. I wrapped my arms around her neck, and she set her hands on my hips. “I want to tell you something,” she announced.

  “All right.”

  “These six years have been amazing. Perfect. Before, I felt worthless, and I knew I wasn’t appreciated. But you, Juleena, and the girls have put meaning into my life, and given me so much happiness. Thank you.”

  “They’ve been good years for me, too,” I said. “I grew up as an inconsequential and unloved girl of the Horse People. And now look at me. And Alta, you’re the reason everything is working out. You take care of us in more ways than I fully realize. I don’t always say something, but know that I appreciate it.”

  We smiled at each other then hugged tightly for a minute or two. “I love you so much,” we each whispered at the same time. Then we paused a heartbeat before we began laughing.

  Then, arm-in-arm, we turned for one of the exits and a climb to our quarters.

  * * * *

  Our bed was unrumpled when we arrived, no one else in sight. We partially undressed, fell into bed, and barely had the covers to our chins before we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  But I wasn’t particularly surprised that the bed grew more crowded over the next few hours. But it was rather ridiculous when, by morning, we had quite a pile. It wasn’t that surprising that Féla and Naddí crawled into bed with us. This wasn’t something they did elsewhere, but when we stayed in the Heart of the Goddess, they were more likely to share my bed than use their own.

  What was somewhat surprising was they brought Maráestára and Peralianíta, our borrowed maids, with them. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but I woke to a hushed debate happening right beside my ear.

  “You can’t really be serious.”

  “Of course we’re serious,” Féla answered. “Watch.” Then I felt her lean on the bed. “Yallameenara.”

  I didn’t say anything. Instead I rolled over, snuggling closer to Alta, finding she wasn’t there, and moving further and further until I came up against her back. And then, reaching behind me, I lifted the covers.

  “You see?” Féla said. “We’re invited.”

  At first I had no idea who it was that pressed against my back. But then I thought I had a pretty good idea when I felt a hand against my back, slowly moving lower.

  “If you touch my bottom,” I threatened, “I’m kicking you all back to your own beds.”

  The hand froze, and then from much further away than whoever owned the hand, I heard giggling. But then the hand changed what it was doing and offered me a small massage, and it was only another minute or so before I was again asleep.

  It couldn’t have been too much longer, however, before I heard Terél say, “I told you we shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

  “Yalla needs a bigger bed.”

  “There’s room here.” I heard Terél moved to the foot of the bed, and then the bed shifted as they climbed in, crosswise at the bottom. I saw in the morning they’d brought their own blankets and pillows.

  But if eight of us weren’t enough, one more joined us, but it wasn’t until morning. I felt her settle atop me, and without really waking, I smiled.

  “Sleep a little longer, my Yalla,” whispered the Goddess. Somehow she fit atop me in spite of the crowded bed.

  I didn’t sleep too much longer. When I woke, the Goddess was nuzzling me, tickling my neck with her breath. “I love you so much.”

  To be loved by a goddess. I don’t even know how to describe how that made me feel. But I smiled and made a little moan of pleasure.

  “It’s time to get up,” she told me. She lifted away from me, and when I opened my eyes and turned my head, I saw her floating several inches directly above me.

  “How many people are still in my bed?”

  “Eight,” she replied. “If the bed were bigger, it would be far more.”

  “Everyone wants to be close to me.”

  “As they should,” she said in agreement. “I’ve already been busy today.”

  “You’re a goddess. Do you even sleep?”

  “I do something like it,” she replied. “Especially after greetings like yesterday’s.” She looked back and forth. “I’ll pull you out, and we’ll see who wakes to know who can help you prepare for your day.”

  I nodded and unlaced my fingers from the covers. The Goddess reached down and pulled me out so that I was floating with her, and then she set me down at the side of the bed. But the time I was there, Naddí was on her feet, smiling broadly.

  “Ah, we have an assistant,” said the Goddess cheerfully. “You must bathe, dress, and come to breakfast. I wish you in your vestments today.”

  “Formal?”

  “No, no. Casual, but we have much to do today, and we must not let anyone forget who you are.”

  “I do not believe anyone here could forget.”

  “Nevertheless,” she said. “I will see you soon.” Then she faded away, but I remain staring where she had been for a moment or three longer before turning to Naddí.

  “Will you help?”

  “Of course.”

  * * * *

  I shouldn’t have needed help, but over the years, I had grown quite accustomed, first to Mellara and then to Féla and Naddí. It was during my bath that I asked her, “Are you happy doing what you do?”

  “You mean helping you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you have to ask?”

  “You and Féla have such capabilities,” I said, trailing off.

  “And we apply them to helping you do wonderful things for our two countries,” she replied. “And, frankly, our lives are significantly better with you than anything else we could be doing.”

  “But-“ I broke off. “But,” I said more weakly.

  “We could continue to spy for Queen Mesenorié. That sounds exciting, but most of the time it’s not, and the times it is, you wish it weren’t.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If it’s exciting, that’s another word for dangerous.”

  “Oh.”

  “And Queen Mesenorié never, not ever treated us like friends. We were underlings, plain and simple. I can’t imagin
e showing up at her bedside and being invited to crawl in.”

  “We have a certain history,” I pointed out.

  “Which we wouldn’t have had with her, even if the circumstances had otherwise been similar. She never stops being queen. Never. She worries that even in her sleep, she should look regal. She would never refer to us as part of her household. We were part of her staff.”

  “You make it sound terrible.”

  “I’m not trying to. I’m trying to point out that there is nothing we would rather be doing.”

  “But you could be, I don’t know. Something.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We don’t have the skills to manage your estates for you,” she said. “And even if we did, how would that be better? How would that bring us joy? With you, we live comfortably in the palace, and when we’re not there, we’re traveling. We have fine clothes and eat very well. And we’re at the center of everything you do. Sure, we don’t get invited to the fancy balls, but do you think we have trouble finding our own opportunity for joy?”

  I laughed at that. “No. I don’t know anyone better at it than the two of you.”

  “So, we make your life better, don’t we?”

  “You know you do.”

  “And in exchange, we get all of that, and we get to spend time with each other and with the other people we care about. You. Alta. Even Juleena. And the girls, of course.”

  “And from time to time, Mesenorié’s maids.”

  She laughed. “Her latest spies, you mean?”

  “Her what?”

  She laughed again. “We want you to help us subvert them.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No. How often do we ask for favors?” I didn’t answer. They never asked. “So. Ask the Goddess about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “I’ll ask, but why?”

  “Just ask, Yalla.”

  “Fine. I’ll ask.” I sighed. “This feels really good.”

  “But the day must go on,” Naddí replied.

  * * * *

  Fifteen minutes later found me in the dining hall. Perhaps a third of the priestesses were about, including Vérundia and Hastiá, of course. And to the side, the Goddess was sitting on the floor in a circle with the youngest acolytes. At that, I stared.

  I was noticed, of course. The Goddess turned her head and smiled at me before returning to whatever game she was playing with the girls. I found that astonishing. But then Vérundia was at my side. “Good morning, Yalla.”

  “That’s not what I expected to see.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Oh. Nothing much. The Goddess is playing with the girls.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Not at all.” I turned. “I’m going to greet my daughters, and then is breakfast available?”

  “We have your favorites,” she replied. “Thank you.”

  “Shouldn’t I be thanking you?”

  “For last night.”

  I laughed. “Ah. That. It was all the Goddess.”

  “We can feel you in the joy, Yalla,” Vérundia replied. “Yes, it’s our Prestainamatta, but it’s also our High Priestess. She has a joy with you she didn’t have with your mother.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so instead I said, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  She nodded, and I turned then strode across the cavern towards my daughters. They saw me coming, jumped up, and ran around the circle to me. I knelt down and then had a giggling girl in each arm.

  “Good morning, Mama Yalla!” they said in chorus.

  “Good morning, My Darlings,” I said. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “Pancakes!” Nissi said. “Our Prestainamatta woke us up and brought all of us here. Mandi and I flew like birds!”

  “Were you scared?”

  “No,” Nissi said. “Were we, Mandi?”

  “I was a little scared,” Mandi said. “But she held us tightly and we didn’t fall.”

  “She would never let you fall,” I said. “Go play now.”

  With a quick pair of kisses, I sent them back, but I watched them as they plopped down in their places. The Goddess turned around and blew me a kiss then returned her attention to the game. After a moment, I turned and strode to the dining table where my seat was waiting for me. “I’m starving,” I announced.

  * * * *

  I spent half the meal catching up with my priestesses. I learned that Jaynásíarté, one of the two acolytes I had collected years ago from the scribe house, had been home to visit her family. Her brother was to be married, and it isn’t every marriage in Alteara that could be officiated by a Priestess of Yahamala.

  “I was so proud,” she said. “Proud of my brother, because he has a wonderful wife, but proud that I could...” She trailed off, and I could see she was embarrassed at what she perceived as vanity.

  “Arté,” I said. “There is no shame in being proud of who you have become. I know I am proud you had this opportunity, and I bet your parents were as well.”

  “Father was bursting his buttons,” she said. “And I don’t know how many times Mama said, ‘My daughter, the priestess’.”

  “You helped them to start their marriage in the best possible way,” I said. “It’s a day no one can forget, and you made it all the more memorable by being there. Did you wear your vestments?”

  “I did for the ceremony, but I wanted to dance at the party. Is it wrong that I changed?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “Was this your first time home?”

  “Since they sent me to Lopéna,” she said. “Yes.”

  “Well,” I said. “Who else has been home?”

  Nearly everyone shared something, but before we were done, I noticed that Masimalatarda had been quiet. “So, Masi. Do we keep you too busy to have your own adventures.”

  She looked down at the table. “I don’t have any family.”

  “Well,” I said. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve heard all day.”

  “But I don’t!” she said. “I’m an orphan.”

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t have family, Masi. What do you call all of us?” She looked at me in confusion. “We’re friends, lovers, confidants,” I said. “We’re united in our love and service to the Goddess, and that makes us family.”

  She was seated next to Hastiá, who proceeded to wrap an arm around her. “You’re like a niece,” she told the younger woman. “And I love you.” She leaned over and kissed the top of Masi’s head.

  It was at that moment that several heads swiveled, and when I turned, I saw Ralalta and Hallámierté had arrived. “Make room for the queen,” I said. “And remember to speak more slowly.” Then I stood and turned to face her.

  The two crossed the room towards me. I held out my hands as they approached, and Ralalta set her hands into mine. She smiled, and her tone was gentle, belying her words. She spoke in Arrlottan. “You have some explaining to do.”

  “Did you have a nice evening, Queen Ralalta?” I asked her in the same language, speaking carefully.

  “Where is she? Is she here?” The queen looked around pointedly, as if that would do her any good.

  “She’s playing with the children,” I said, glancing to see that was still true. “Good morning, Hallámierté,” I said in Altearan. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I slept exceedingly well,” she replied. “Thank you for asking.”

  “Please,” I said. “Sit.” I gestured. The priestesses to my right had moved down not one space, but two, and so Hallámierté and Ralalta took the available seats. A moment later, Hallámierté reached over and took the queen’s hand, although it was under the table, and I’m not sure how many others saw it.

  “You must not be too upset,” I observed to the queen in Arrlottan.

  “It isn’t real.”

  “Of course it is,” I said. “It is as real as you want it to be.” I paused then came to a decision. “We can talk about it. But
Ralalta, think about the words I’ve been sharing with you. Love and Joy are the most obvious, but what you shared was also a gift, was it not? And perhaps an opportunity for serenity.”

  But then I felt hands on my shoulders, and I couldn’t help but begin to smile. “Good morning, Prestainamatta. Did you enjoy your game with the children.”

  She leaned over and brushed her cheek against mine. “Immensely,” she said. “I haven’t been able to do that since your mother was about that age.” I repeated her words in her language, nearly everyone understanding, but then I heard Hallámierté on Ralalta’s side, translating into Altearan.

  “She’s here,” Ralalta said.

  “Brushing cheeks with me,” I explained.

  “I know translating into too many languages leaves you with headaches, and we have a long day,” said the Goddess. “Ask Hallámierté and Vérundia to translate for the queen.”

  I did that, and of course they agreed. And so, the Goddess said, “Good morning, Queen Ralalta. I trust you slept well.”

  “Very well,” replied Ralalta. “Thank you for asking. And thank you for inviting me to stay.”

  “It is I who must thank you for accepting me into your heart,” replied the Goddess. Then she said, “Vérundia, do not translate this unless you agree. Would you like Queen Ralalta to attend our meetings today?”

  Vérundia gave nothing away, but she turned her gaze to the queen, and I could see her considering. Then she shifted her gaze towards me. “Yallameenara, where is she?”

  “Here,” I said with a gesture. I reached up and caressed a cheek. The Goddess was still bent over me, still touching cheeks. If past behavior was any indication, we would spend much of my visit touching, although with my daughters now here and able to interact with her, she might spread her affection more widely.

  “Hallámierté,” said Vérundia, “please translate. Prestainamatta, I believe that is an excellent suggestion. I would value Queen Ralalta’s input. However, I believe Larien and Terélmarestra would be her best translators, as they are far more comfortable in Framaran.”

  “Of course,” said the Goddess. “You must finish breakfast, and I wish to show The Heart of the Heart to Ralalta myself. And then we may meet for the morning. We can take a break later to show the new acolytes. Yalla, retrieve me when Ralalta has finished her breakfast.”