Rook

by Robin Roseau

  She kissed my cheek and withdrew, and I watched her return to her place with the children, giving Mandi and Nissi a kiss and a hug before settling down to play. She was beaming with pleasure.

  “She’s back with the children,” I said. Then I sighed happily.

  “This is all quite a lot to take in,” Ralalta said in her careful Altearan.

  “Tell me about it,” I agreed. “You should eat. The food is very good.”

  * * * *

  We managed to keep Ralalta’s tour intimately sized. Hallámierté joined us as well as Terél and Larien. I needed only to speak the language of the Goddess. Terél translated into Framaran, and Larien from Framaran when Ralalta spoke. We spent the first half of the tour with the Goddess asking about the palace in Marport, and she was particularly interested in Ralalta’s views on her temple.

  We hadn’t even reached the Heart of the Heart when Ralalta put a hand on my arm. “I can see how this would be overwhelming.”

  “What?”

  “Translating back and forth,” she said. “Especially in the early days.”

  “Oh yeah, before Juleena had grown comfortable in Altearan. If it was complex, I had to translate into Altearan and then still needed help to translate for the Goddess. I don’t know how much was lost in translation. And then I’d have to translate back into both Altearan and Framaran.” I gestured to Larien and Terél. “They make this easy for me.”

  Ralalta took on a distant look for a moment, and then she nodded, and we were talking again.

  But then we reached the Heart of the Heart, and we all came to a stop, with only the Goddess stepping towards the center of the room then turning to face us, her back to the altar as she watched us.

  “Ohhhh,” said Ralalta. “Juleena and Yalla described it, but there just aren’t words.”

  The Goddess clapped her hands in joy once she heard the translation.

  I gestured. “Eight entrances. You will recognize the words above each entrance. We intentionally arrived from this direction, as Life matches the word for the summer solstice. It’s not the nearest entrance, but it is most appropriate today.”

  “Change would have been a good choice as well,” added the Goddess. “For there is much change this season.”

  Ralalta turned a slow circle then turned to face my left, where the Goddess had been walking. “It is beautiful beyond words.”

  “She’s standing beside the altar now,” I said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Ralalta immediately turned and offered a small bow. “My apologies, Prestainamatta.”

  “Oh, Ralalta,” replied the Goddess. “I do not expect you to always face me. It would be quite impossible. Now, give her the tour, Yalla, and meet me here.”

  She knew me well. Even though she’d said it wasn’t necessary, I felt it was best to always approach the altar the way Vérundia had first taught me. So I took Ralalta’s hand and told her about that. Then I led us in a circle, but this time I pointed out each of the words as we passed them.

  We circled twice before arriving at the altar. I handed Ralalta up, leaving her at the word Life, and then I circled around to stand beside the Goddess on the other side, facing Change.

  “Queen Ralalta,” said the Goddess. “Welcome to the Heart of the Heart.”

  What happened next pleased me and the Goddess, too. Ralalta opened her mouth to say something, but then instead she reached up and brushed away a tear. Then she looked down and saw the words engraved into the stone. “May I touch?”

  “Of course.”

  So she brushed her fingers across the words. “Ralisht,” she said. “Life.” Then she looked around the altar, brushing her fingers where she could reach, saying the words and the Framaran equivalents. She finished at the center. “Prestainamatta. Goddess of My Heart.”

  “Am I?” asked the Goddess. “Are you quite sure, Ralalta?”

  Ralalta looked into the space where the Goddess stood. “You are the only goddess to occupy even a portion of my heart,” she finally said, speaking slowly. “I cannot say you occupy as large a home here,” and she pressed a hand to her chest, “as you do in the other hearts here. But there is a home here for you.”

  “I do not expect to be the only occupant of your heart,” the Goddess said. “But I must be the only god. And your heart must be welcoming to me.”

  “You are the only god,” Ralalta said. “Prestainamatta, you sent my daughters home to me. That by itself opened my heart. Worshipping gods is uncommon in Framara. There are those who do so, but it is done privately, and I do not allow public temples or shrines, except yours.”

  “Why is that, Ralalta?”

  “Other gods are so-“ she broke off.

  “I know what they are like,” said the Goddess. “You will not offend me in honesty.”

  “Judgmental,” said the queen. “Vindictive. Petty.”

  “Not all,” said the Goddess. “And I am capable of those.”

  “But that is not your message.” Ralalta brushed her fingers across the words on the altar. “This is your message, or at least the message Yalla and your priestesses have shared with me. And...” She trailed off for a moment. “I have attended celebrations in Marport. Yalla celebrates the two festivals here, but she celebrates others in our temple there.”

  The Goddess smiled at that. “Our temple. You consider it our temple.”

  “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “You did not. I wish clarity. You feel possessive of the temple in your palace.”

  “I do.”

  “That pleases me,” said the Goddess. “That pleases me greatly. Do you have any immediate questions for me?”

  “So many,” Ralalta said.

  “And your most immediate?”

  “What should we do so you can come to Marport with us?”

  The Goddess smiled broadly. “Perhaps the Queen of Framara could offer an invitation.”

  “I’ve done that.”

  “Ah, but now you can do it in person.”

  “Goddess Yahamala,” said Ralalta formally, “my Prestainamatta. Please be forever welcome in Framara and my home, and perhaps when we return, you will return with us.”

  “I would like that very much,” said the Goddess. “Thank you, Queen Ralalta.”

  Conversations

  We gathered in the library: Vérundia, Ralalta, the Goddess, Larien, Terél, and me. We rearranged the furniture, and I found myself on one sofa with the Goddess beside me. Vérundia had one of the wing back chairs, and the others were on another sofa, Ralalta in the middle. We all had tea, and one of the older acolytes would bring us fresh pots periodically. We got settled, and then the Goddess said, “We should explain. Ralalta, this is normally a time for Vérundia to explain to Yalla and me what has happened lately and what requires attention. I do my best to offer guidance. And we identify any issues that require greater attention during Yalla’s visit.”

  Terél quietly translated as I echoed the Goddess.

  “I understand entirely,” Ralalta said.

  “If you do not understand something, please ask questions,” the Goddess continued. “Yalla, I know you won’t be able to relax until you’ve told me what weighs heaviest on you.”

  “The new acolytes,” I said immediately. “Especially Lamarta. The only Altearan she speaks she learned during our trip here. I do not know your intentions for her. Am I to leave her here when we return to Framara?”

  “Ah, and you have the same questions for your daughters.”

  “Yes, but they speak Altearan nearly as well as they do Framaran. I would not wish to be apart from them. You once said you wished them to spend at least half their time here, if you chose them. But we are prepared.

  “However, this wasn’t something Mellara asked for, and I worry for Lamarta’s happiness if we leave her so far from home, at least at this age, when she doesn’t understand Altearan.”

  “Very good,” said the Goddess. “We will have that discussion this afternoon with Lamarta
and Mellara, and we will discuss your children with Alta.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You have more.”

  “Two others. My maids have a request.”

  She laughed. “I bet they do. We will have that conversation with them. And, of course, I wish Ralalta for all these discussions.”

  “Ralalta also has a topic she wishes to discuss with you.”

  Across from me, Ralalta smiled. “More than one, but I know which one you mean.”

  “Tell me,” said the Goddess.

  “She has asked about more grandchildren.”

  The Goddess immediately cackled with laughter. “And how do the prospective mothers feel about this?”

  “I think it’s complicated.”

  “Yalla, do we need to discuss this when Ralalta isn’t here?”

  I considered before I echoed her words. Ralalta stiffened when she heard the translation, but said nothing. I shook my head. “It’s not that at all. You have claimed two, and it is unclear whether you will claim two more.”

  “And Framara must have a clear line of succession,” said the Goddess. “And a backup, if possible.”

  “That is part of it,” said the queen. “But I also find I love being a grandmother.”

  The Goddess laughed again. “We will hold the rest of this conversation later, after we discuss the new acolytes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Was there more?”

  “That’s my list,” I said.

  “Vérundia, what do you have for me?”

  * * * *

  Vérundia used her time like she normally did. She began with a report on the state of the Heart of the Goddess, the abbeys around the country, and a few reports regarding some of the priestesses. But then she said, “Radímaroosh is crying herself to sleep at night. That is common for a new acolyte, but it’s been going on too long, and I am worried.”

  “She and Lamarta are the same age,” said the Goddess. “Pair them up and have them share a room with a single, large bed. Radímaroosh isn’t accustomed to a bed of her own, and she is lonely.”

  “They don’t share more than a dozen words in common,” I pointed out.

  “They’ll find a way to communicate.”

  “I have one other issue,” said Vérundia. “It is personal.”

  “Too personal to discuss with this audience?” asked the Goddess.

  “No. You once said Hastiá and I would be together again. That was eight years ago. Should we stop hoping?”

  “Oh, Vérundia,” said the Goddess. “I sometimes forget how time flows for humanity. It seems you have been tied here for so long, but in the meantime, my plans require time.”

  Vérundia looked down at her hands. “Can you share these plans?” she asked in a soft voice.

  “You perhaps noticed the new acolytes?” Vérundia looked up. For a moment, hope flared across her face, and then it died. “Of course, Prestainamatta,” she said, the pain evident in her voice.

  The Goddess stood up and began pacing slowly around the room. I watched her. Without turning towards us, she asked, “Can you recommend someone to take over under the current circumstances?”

  “No. I know my duty, Prestainamatta.”

  “Can someone explain?” Ralalta requested. I told her about Hastiá, and that it would normally be my duty to serve as the head of the order, but there needed to be someone to watch over the day-to-day operations.

  “Why are Mandi and Nissi the future solution?”

  “Because they have direct access to our Prestainamatta,” Vérundia explained. “Even if they are too young to serve as the head of the order, they could guide the head. But they are too young for such important duties and will be for another ten years.”

  “Ah,” said Ralalta. “Now I fully understand. This is a problem I’ve had to solve before, putting the right people into positions of authority. It is difficult to find good people who can wield authority when under supervision and far, far more difficult if they must act with autonomy.”

  “That is it exactly,” said the Goddess. “How have you solved this, Queen Ralalta?”

  “In two ways. I trained Juleena from birth, and I was training Yallameenara as well.”

  “And I have taken her from you, and her two eldest daughters besides. And you wish assurances I won’t take the rest.”

  “I wish to know where to spend my efforts.”

  “Perhaps I should let you train them for me,” said the Goddess with a glint in her eye. “What else have you done?”

  “There are things that can be taught, and things that can’t be taught. When I identify someone who could operate autonomously, that person isn’t always trained for a particular role. But that part is easy, if she’s the right person otherwise.”

  The Goddess moved back across the room, coming to a stop facing Ralalta. Then I realized it wasn’t Ralalta she was looking at.

  She was looking at Larien.

  My heart was filled with dread, but then I looked at Vérundia, looking so miserable. Then the Goddess turned and returned to her seat beside me, snuggling against me. “Vérundia,” she said. “I will have a solution for you by the solstice. It will be no more than two years, and perhaps much sooner.”

  “Really, Prestainamatta?” Vérundia asked, looking up, hope in her eyes again. “Truly?

  “Truly,” promised the Goddess. Then she looked over at me. “I am sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I replied. “She’d be good.”

  “I am not sure it will be Larien. I need her with you. There must be Téhrasúmarla.” Compromise.

  “Of course.”

  * * * *

  We took a short break to stretch our legs, and then to talk easily over lunch, eaten at a small table in the library. Ralalta wandered the books for a while. She asked permission to touch them.

  “Of course,” Vérundia answered. “The ones too delicate to touch are stored behind glass.” She pointed.

  Ralalta selected a book and opened it, then asked, “What language is this?”

  “If you don’t recognize it, then it is the Language of the Goddess.”

  “Ah. You know, I’ve been meaning to learn another language. Is there a tutor I could hire?”

  “It is forbidden,” Vérundia said. “Only her priestesses may be taught the Language of the Goddess, beyond those few words we teach to all who will listen.”

  “Oh,” said Ralalta.

  But I was watching the Goddess, and she was watching Ralalta with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

  What else was new?

  * * * *

  After lunch, we met first with Lamarta and Mellara. Lamarta seemed quite comfortable, sitting down in one of the chairs and swinging her legs, reminding us that while she might be a future priestess, she was still a child of eight years old.

  With Larien and Terél performing translations, the Goddess said, “In Alteara, when I claim a child, placing my mark upon her hair in this fashion, it is the law that she be given over to the priestesses for training. I never take a child who is unwilling, but sometimes the parents are not as willing. The law supports me on this. I do not imagine there is a similar law in Framara.”

  “There is not,” said the queen. “Perhaps you will come to Marport and help me write one.”

  The Goddess laughed.

  “And so, Mellara,” continued the Goddess after a moment, “While you have willingly escorted your daughter here, she is Framaran, not Altearan, and I cannot force you to let me have her.”

  “I want to be a priestess,” the girl said before anyone else could respond. “Like Lady Yallameenara!”

  “She is young,” Mellara said.

  “She knows her heart.”

  “It was that blessing, wasn’t it? Before she was born.” She looked at me. “You blessed her.”

  “I didn’t know, Mellara. I told you it seemed important. Do you wish I hadn’t done it?”

  “No.” She reached over and stroked Lamar
ta’s hair. “I’m so proud of her, but the thought you’re going to ask me to leave her here... It’s hard. It’s so far, and this isn’t a good place for children.”

  “They do not stay here all the time,” Vérundia explained. “They rotate between here and the abbeys, and even when here, we try to get them outside every day, when we can.”

  Mellara said nothing to that, but I could tell she wasn’t mollified.

  “Mellara,” said the Goddess. “I will tell you what I want, and if you are not satisfied, then we will find another solution.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. I do not see the future, but some things are not difficult to predict. Yallameenara has Larien, Terélmarestra, Naddíqualestra, and Resaírelteena. This is in addition to Juleena and Lásenalta.”

  “I don’t know who all those are.”

  “Féla and Alta,” I said, knowing she could guess the others.

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Yallameenara’s daughters will one day need friends such as their mother has. I believe your daughter could serve as one such friend.” Then she grinned. “And Radímaroosh as another.”

  “I think I met her. A quiet girl, one of the new acolytes?” Mellara asked.

  “Yes,” confirmed Vérundia.

  “From what I could tell, Lamarta,” continued the Goddess. “Whitarmandi and Darnisom are friends. Do you like them?”

  “I do, Prestainamatta.” She grinned. “Mandi taught me that word. It means The Goddess in my Heart.”

  “I do not need Lamarta as a priestess here in Alteara,” the Goddess declared. “I need her as a priestess in Framara. And I would like her as a near constant companion of Whitarmandi and Darnisom, and Radímaroosh as well.”

  “Really?” asked Mellara.

  “Really,” confirmed the Goddess. “But that means she would travel when they travel, and that may eventually mean they will all be here for months at a time. But for now, they will remain in Framara and learn what they must learn.”

  “Oh,” said Mellara, and I saw the stress fade from her body. “Thank you, Goddess. Thank you.”

  “It is I who should thank you for giving me such a lovely new acolyte,” said the Goddess. “There is more, but I wish to discuss this with Queen Ralalta first. We’ll talk again, but for now, know that your daughter will be close, but she may not be sleeping in her old bed any longer.”