Rook

by Robin Roseau

  I bowed my head and said quietly, “It will be as you desire.”

  “No, it will not,” she said. “Again, there must be téhrasúmarla. I will not have everything I want.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Whitarmandi and Darnisom must remain the daughters of four worlds,” she said. “They are born of Framara and Alteara, but they are born of a girl of The Hippa, and they are born of my High Priestess. Four worlds.”

  “We will do as you desire, Yahamala,” I said. “You must know that.”

  “I would keep all of you here, if I could,” she replied. “But I cannot. I wish you to leave both Whitarmandi and Darnisom in Alteara when you return to Framara. In the summer, one will remain, and one will return to Framara, so that she remains a daughter of Framara, a daughter of The Hippa. And then we will alternate.”

  She paused, and then she said, “Please, Yallameenara.”

  “Of course, Yahamala,” I said. I reached for her and pulled her for a kiss. She held me for a moment, and then I encouraged her to sit beside me, the two of us holding hands.

  I hadn’t repeated her words, and so those around us would only have heard half. I looked at the Goddess for a moment longer then looked about, explaining what our Prestainamatta had decided.

  “So they’ll stay here,” Féla said. “In The Heart?”

  At that, Vérundia made a sound. We all turned to her, and she said, “The High Priestess rarely lives here, in The Heart.”

  I turned to look at our Prestainamatta. “Lopéna?”

  She nodded. “So that I may advise King Tradódid and Queen Mesenorié, and Prince Prodótar as well.”

  “Their grandparents will be pleased.” I paused. “They aren’t ready for this alone. They’re going to need someone with them.”

  “Queen Mesenorié can see to their care,” Yahamala suggested, “and their mundane education.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “But do you wish to teach them directly for their duties to you?”

  “I believe we will require assistance,” she said, “for perhaps the next five or six years.” And then she turned and looked pointedly at my former maid-spies, now the leaders of the order in my absence.

  “Right,” I said. “The most obvious choice is in this room, but I believe I need everyone here doing what she is currently doing. Féla, Naddí, what do you believe?”

  The two looked at each other, and then Naddí said, “Talíahmarteen.” Féla cocked her head and then nodded before turning back towards me. They repeated the name together.

  “She’s young,” I observed. I smiled, although somewhat weakly. “As I recall, my tutors were somewhat older.”

  “She’s very good with the younger children,” Naddí said. “And would be able to go everywhere with them.”

  “Someone older wouldn’t be able to keep up,” Vérundia added. “Talíahmarteen is an excellent suggestion.”

  “Then perhaps we should see how she feels, and then discuss this with my daughters.”

  Féla stood and walked to the door. One of the acolytes was waiting in the hall, and Féla sent the girl. As we waited, I asked, “What else should we discuss?”

  It was perhaps five minutes when there was a knock. Féla opened the door to admit Talíahmarteen, speaking quietly to others in the hall. Líah stepped into the gap between Vérundia and Larien’s chairs and said, “You asked to see me, High Priestess?”

  “I did,” I said. “You’re good with the young acolytes.”

  “They’re good girls,” she replied.

  “You’ve lived here in The Heart much of your life.”

  “Yes, High Priestess.”

  “While your studies will continue the rest of your life, you are now a priestess of Yahamala. How do you feel about leaving here to carry on her work?”

  She smiled broadly. “I would be honored, High Priestess! Where will you send me?”

  “You understand that I am torn between two countries.”

  “Are you taking me to Framara?”

  “No. Is that what you hoped?”

  “I only wish to be useful, High Priestess. I do not speak very much Framaran, but I’ve been learning.”

  “You speak the words of Our Prestainamatta at least as well as I do, and with a proper accent,” I countered.

  She inclined her head. “Thank you, High Priestess.”

  I moved closer to Yahamala, slightly turning my back to her. She wrapped arms around me and leaned against my back, which felt very good. I patted the sofa. “Sit here, please, Líah.” I waited until she was seated, then I leaned forward and took her hands. She looked at me with an expression of confusion, but she’d understand soon enough.

  “I am a mother,” I said.

  She smiled, hesitantly. “I know.”

  “My two eldest daughters will become high priestesses to Our Prestainamatta.”

  Her smile grew. “I know.”

  “I am speaking to you as a mother and as your high priestess,” I said. “Alteara needs a high priestess who is not torn between two countries. My daughters are not yet ready to assume that role, and what I do in Framara is important to Yahamala.”

  “How can I help, High Priestess?”

  “When I return to Framara, Mandi and Nissi will remain in Alteara,” I said. “I need a priestess to stay with them. It has been suggested you would be an excellent choice.”

  Her eyes grew wide.

  “You would be a combination of many things,” I said. “You would assist them in their duties for Yahamala. Queen Mesenorié will guide their mundane education, and I imagine Yahamala will wish to be involved in their education for their priestly duties, but you will guide and teach them. Finally, I imagine a portion of your duties will be as their governess, although Mesenorié may wish to assign someone else, which would give you some time to yourself.”

  “I’d-” Her voice broke. “Thank you for trusting me, High Priestess!”

  “You may have guessed this, but in case you haven’t: the three of you will not remain here in The Heart.”

  “We’re going to Lopéna.”

  “Yes. Have you ever been?”

  “No.”

  I nodded then turned. “Féla and Naddí, I believe you are most equipped to prepare Líah for what she needs to know of the big city.”

  “We’ll take care of it.”

  I turned back to Líah. “I want to be clear. You do not answer to my daughters.”

  She laughed. “They’re good girls.”

  “They are as capable of being little devils,” I said. “You will, however, answer to the king and queen, and to Yahamala, too, speaking through one girl or the other. You answer to me, to Féla, and to Naddí. And I encourage you to consider seriously if anyone else currently in this room advises you. You answer to no one else.”

  At that, she nodded and smiled broadly.

  “I imagine that is a change for you.”

  “It is,” she said. “Thank you, High Priestess!”

  “You’ll need money,” I said.

  “It is customary for the Queen to see to the financial needs of any priestess living in her home,” Yahamala said. “At that point, they are, in effect, working for the crown.”

  I repeated those words and said, “I’ll talk to Mesenorié about that, but I’ll also leave you with funds, in case you need them.”

  “Thank you, High Priestess.”

  “Good. Líah, you are now a full priestess to Our Prestainamatta. It is appropriate to use my title during conversations like this, but you are also now a member of my extended household, and so you may also use my name, either Yallameenara or even Yalla. I shorten your name and would not be offended if you were to use the more familiar version of mine. Could we hug?”

  She basically threw herself at me. We hugged tightly, and I kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replied. “I’ll take care of them.”

  “I know you will, and you’ll have ample help.�
�� I separated from them. “Almost anyone else in this room is more capable of ensuring Líah has the tools she needs for her job.”

  “Vérundia,” Naddí immediately said. “Will you see to this?”

  “Of course. When do we leave?”

  I looked over my shoulder; Yahamala was still holding me. It took a look for me to decide, “Early, the day after tomorrow. We’ll all travel to Lopéna first.”

  “Us, too?” Féla said.

  She held up her hands pleadingly. I laughed and nodded. “I’m going to need help, though. I don’t want to cry in front of them.”

  We invited the girls in. They looked at us nervously, and it was Nissi who asked, “Did we do something wrong?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Sit here, girls,” Larien said, vacating her seat. The two were small enough to cram together into the chair. I nodded to Líah, who moved to stand behind them, and then Larien sat beside me. The girls looked around.

  “Is there going to be a conference now?” Mandi asked. She looked at Yahamala. “Do we translate for you?”

  “My darlings,” she said. “I love you so much. I love your mother so much. It hurts me so when you leave at the end of each visit.”

  “We tried to take you with us,” Mandi said. “Are we doing that again?”

  “Not quite yet. I will stay in Alteara for now, but we’ll try again when the people have grown more accustomed to me.”

  The girls nodded sagely, and I thought they understood that much.

  “Girls,” I said. “I am so proud of you, and I am about to break my own heart.”

  “I don’t understand,” Mandi said.

  “Girls, it is time you begin to take more duties for Yahamala,” I said. “We want you to remain in Alteara, with her. You would live with your grandparents in Lopéna.”

  “Our Prestainamatta is here,” Nissi said.

  “I will move to Lopéna with you,” said the Goddess. “And you would help me speak to Mesenorié and Tradódid.”

  We let them understand that, and then we told them the rest of the plan. “It will be exciting, but it’s hard, too.”

  “Because we don’t speak very well yet?” Mandi asked.

  “No,” I said. “Because you won’t see any of your three mothers until summer, and you won’t be there when Alta has her baby.”

  “I was so excited to come here,” Líah said.

  “We all were,” Larien added. “But I cried anyway.”

  “It will be less of a shock to you than it was to most of the other acolytes,” I pointed out.

  I thought a lot of the discussion was over their heads. They were just children, after all. But they both grinned and looked at the Goddess. “We’ll be with you!” Mandi said.

  “You will, Darlings,” Yahamala said, her warmth and love evident.

  Mandi was first to react physically. She jumped from her seat and threw herself into Yahamala’s arms. Nissi was only a second or two behind her sister, and then Yahamala was laughing as she held the two girls. They, in turn, clung tightly to her.

  Larien set her chin on my shoulder, and I leaned against her lightly. I thought this would be much harder for me than for the girls.

  * * * *

  That afternoon, while Líah saw to the girls, Yahamala and I met with Malta and Parmeed. Larien and Terél were there, of course, helping with translations. In Framaran, I explained how we worked when with the Goddess. “We’ve tried other ways,” I added. “But that typically leaves me translating between three different languages, none of them the language of my birth.”

  “I wish to ask a question,” Yahamala declared, as soon as I’d finished explaining. “Yallameenara, you have taught them of my words.”

  “I have, Prestainamatta.”

  “Do they live by my words?”

  I posed the question to them. The two conferred, and then it was Parmeed who answered. “We try. That is easier for me than for Malta?”

  “Why is that?” Yahamala asked.

  “My job,” Malta explained. “Since meeting Yalla, I have found more joy in my job, but it is isolated. And I have found love, but not in my job.”

  “Those are the words people seem to choose to revere the most. There are seven others.”

  Malta nodded. “Yalla and I have discussed some of this, as you may imagine. She is the one who pointed out my service to the queen is a gift to be given.”

  “Just so,” Yahamala agreed.

  “But you are the one who told me that accepting your service is a gift the queen returns,” I pointed out. “And her faith is another.”

  “And being one worthy of faith is also a gift to be given,” Yahamala added.

  “Change is, of course, constant,” Malta continued. “That is perhaps the most difficult word for me to embrace.”

  “It is for many,” Yahamala said. “Change can bring happiness or loss, and so often, especially for someone in your position, details to manage.”

  “Just so,” Malta agreed. “Change brought Yallameenara into our lives. Through Yalla came Parmeed.” She looked down at her hand, clasped with Parmeed’s, then lifted their joined hands and kissed Parmeed’s fingers, one after another.

  It was a sweet, tender moment, the sort Malta rarely displayed to an audience. Beside me, Yahamala waited a moment and then asked, “Why did you come so far?”

  It was Parmeed who answered. “Yalla invited us.” Then she dropped her gaze. “I wanted to meet you.”

  “Why do you look embarrassed while you admit that?” Yahamala asked. “You came for more than to meet me. I will not judge you unkindly for your request.”

  Parmeed paused then looked back up. “Whether you grant our request or not, I am glad we came, and I am touched you welcomed us. I hope we are welcome in the future.”

  “Quite welcome.” Yahamala smiled, although of course, I was the only one who could see it. “Ask. I already know what you will ask, and I already know my response, but you must first ask.”

  “We wish children,” Parmeed said. “Will you help us produce children?” She looked proudly into the space where Yahamala sat, but I could see the tension in her forehead.

  “You hope for something more specific than that,” Yahamala replied. “State the rest.”

  “I would carry our children,” Parmeed said, “But I want them to be of both of us, as Yallameenara’s children are of her and of Juleena.”

  “And the child that Lásenalta now carries is of her and Juleena,” Yahamala clarified. “Yalla, clasp their hands.” She waited until I held their clasped hands in both of mine, leaning forward to reach, and then said, “I can do this, but do you understand the implications?”

  “You may claim them as acolytes,” Malta said.

  “It is very rare I take more than one daughter from a family, except when their mother is my high priestess. But yes. Any children I give you will be daughters, and they will have straight black, or perhaps snow-white hair.”

  “We understand, Prestainamatta,” Parmeed said. “We would be honored to offer a daughter.”

  “And you, Malta? Would you feel honored?”

  Malta paused then nodded. “I would,” she said.

  Yahamala set her hands over mine and paused for a moment, then smiled. “Yalla, I like your friends, and I appreciate what this woman has done for you, and what they both mean to you. I can do this, but there are conditions, and I do not know if they can accept all of them.”

  I repeated that, and Larien translated, Yahamala waiting.

  “Tell them,” she continued, then she shifted her gaze. “If I am to do this, then I must be welcomed into their home.”

  “Of course, Prestainamatta,” Parmeed replied immediately.

  “I think,” Malta said slowly, “that you mean that in a specific way.”

  “Actually, I don’t,” Yahamala replied. “I mean it how you translate it. I can tell you some of the customs of Alteara. Some villages keep shrines to me. The people of the village visit
the shrine, and they welcome me to the village and to their lives. Not all villages do this. Some villages offer a special blessing to me before major events.”

  “I do not think that is what you mean when you ask for an invitation into our home,” Malta said. “There is a temple in the palace and another, larger temple on the outskirts of Marport.”

  “Yes,” Yahamala agreed. “And I know neither would exist without your assistance. That serves as an invitation to the palace and to Framara. But it is not an invitation to your home.”

  “You wish us to construct a shrine?”

  “I wish for you to welcome me into your home,” Yahamala countered. “How you do so is not what matters. And it matters less whether I feel welcome; it matters that you do so without reservation.”

  Parmeed and Malta exchanged a look, and then Malta said, “Yahamala, Prestainamatta, you are forever welcome in our home. Yalla, do you believe Tiera would help us make a small shrine?” Tiera was the sculptor who had joined my household years ago. Her work had become fashionable in Marport, and she had helped with the details of the temple as well. Malta turned to Parmeed. “Where should it be?”

  “Visible when people visit,” Parmeed replied.

  Malta nodded. “Yes.” She turned back. “Are there words that feel most welcoming to you?”

  “The words themselves do not matter,” Yahamala said. “It is the intent. Next, I do not require prayers. I do not require devotion to me. But you must accept my words. Malta this may be difficult for you, but you must make a vow. You will set aside a little time each day, even if it is only a few minutes, to reflect upon one of my words, and you must not play favorites.”

  “I will,” Malta agreed.

  “All nine words, Malta,” Yahamala declared. “If either of you struggle to accept any, you must ask Yallameenara for guidance. If you continue to struggle, then you must return to me, and I will help you.”

  Malta looked a little nervous, but Parmeed smiled broadly. “We would welcome your help, Prestainamatta.”

  “You must raise your daughters to my words as well,” Yahamala said.

  “Of course.”

  At that, there was another pause, a long pause. My hands still held theirs, and Yahamala’s remained atop mine. She looked at each of them in turn, then her expression saddened. “Malta, do you have time in your life to be a mother, or will you depend upon Parmeed raising your daughters virtually alone?”