The Hadra

by Diana Rivers

  As the gray of the morning mist lifted, I felt as if I were watching someone paint the world with colors of aching brilliance right before my astonished eyes. There was a sparkle of silver on the surface of the sea. Beneath that, there were endless shades of blue and green, with purple in the shadows and long bands of blazing white that marked the foam lines. The grass was so green it hurt my eyes. Sprinkled through it were tiny white and blue flowers tossing in the wind. I could almost swear they had not been blooming the day before. The tree line glowed red with the still-unseen rising sun. Buds on the branches were opening in a haze of pale green and yellow and pink and lavender. I wanted to jump up and shout with the joy of seeing again. I turned to tell Olna of the wonder of it all. She shook her head. “This is not the time to talk. Just look and drink it in, and remember what it means to be alive when you next think to throw it all away.” This was as close to a reproach as Olna could manage. I thought to say, Next time I will remember what Witches can do, and that will be enough to keep me in this world, but I resisted. Instead, keeping my mouth shut and my eyes open, I fell for a while into a sort of trance of seeing.

  I had been watching a flower that seemed to be opening right in front of me when I felt a sudden, strong pull on my mind. Turning, I looked down to the farthest reaches of the plateau, for that was where the signal had come from. At first everything seemed unchanged. Then, as I stared, I saw tiny black dots of motion coming this way. Horses! I leapt to my feet with a shout. From behind me, Josleen blew a loud blast on the signal shell. The sentry from the top of the hill answered with the warning bell, and I heard drums start up from within the caves. Soon women were pouring out of the entrance beside me or struggling up the steep paths from the lower caves. In minutes, most of the encampment was milling about outside, full of excitement and loud talk, yawning, stretching, and pointing.

  The specks quickly grew into horses, clearly ours, running at full speed and accompanied by a few riders. Our horses, coming back! I threw off the encumbrance of the robe. Naked, wearing only the sandals Olna had lent me, I ran out with the others. Shouting and waving, we poured down the slope to greet the riders, while they shouted and waved back. Now I could make out Zenoria, Jhemar, Zari, and some of the others. We gathered to meet them, and soon the horses were milling around us. Before the riders even had a chance to dismount, Pell, Renaise, and Kazouri were already calling out questions. Not seeing Dancer, I had a moment of fear, wondering if something had befallen her during the hard winter, or if she would even remember me. As I was turning, looking hopefully in all directions, I was hit in the back by something large and hairy that almost sent me sprawling. I turned to see Dancer standing behind me with her sides heaving. Her head was lowered as if making ready to nudge me again.

  With a shout, I threw my arms around her neck and pressed my face against her sweaty hide, breathing in that sweet, familiar smell. Then I kicked off the sandals. Without thought, I was on her back and we were flying up the slope. From there we galloped in a great curve out to the edge of the trees. The wind whipped her mane and my hair. Colors blurred and bled together in my tears. As we covered the earth in great bounding leaps, I felt a rush of sexual pleasure from the surging power of her muscles pressing up between my bare legs. Just before we reached the trees, she turned back with no signal from me. Suddenly we were riding full speed toward the caves. We came to a panting halt in front of the mass of women.

  Shaking, I slid from Dancer’s back. I would have crumpled to the ground if Pell had not caught me. Rishka was instantly on the other side of me, with Kara beside her. They were all holding and supporting me while I caught my breath. Kara was laughing and crying at the same time, but Pell said in her usual mocking way, “So, Tazzi, you have returned to the land of the living. I see you love your horse more than your sisters. It is for Dancer that you came back.”

  I was shaking my head. “No! No! Not true! It is the Witches who—”

  “No matter,” Kara said quickly. “You are back among us. That is what counts.” Then she turned angrily to Pell. “Why do you always have to be so mocking?”

  “Because I find it so hard to cry.” Pell made a little bow before me, half-mocking and half-serious. When she spoke, however, her words were all serious. “Tazzi, I am truly glad to see you back among us by whatever road you had to take. I feared for you all this winter, but nothing that I said or did could reach you. If the Witches have accomplished this miracle with their magic, then I will have to go and thank them all.”

  I blushed, suddenly remembering how that miracle had been accomplished. Images of what had happened on the altar last night rushed into my head, and I was unable to shield my thoughts in time. Pell gave a roar of laughter. “So that is how they do their magic. If only I had known…” Before I could protest, she caught me in a bone-crushing embrace. “However it happened, I hope you are back with us for good. Now let us go join the others.” They all three helped me up on Dancer’s back, for I had no strength left. Then, with Rishka mounted behind me, and Pell and Kara walking on either side of me, we went, together with the mass of women, back up the slope to greet one another and circle and talk and make our plans for the future, while the horses went off to graze.

  Chapter Two

  For me, life had stood still that winter. Time had been suspended, frozen in place. Now, with the spring thaw, everything was moving and flowing again: my own spirit, the women around me, the horses, the land herself. The rains came, melting the last of the snow, turning every crevice into a torrent of water and every path into a stream. The grass grew tall, flowers bloomed in great shifting patches of color, and leaves began to open. With their masses of white blooms, the flowering-lodi trees shone like snow against the new green of the hills.

  We all longed to be out of the caves, but each time we moved our cookfires outside during a few days of fine weather, the rain and mud returned to drive us back into the cave entrances. It was particularly hard for the Muinyairin, who were used to the freedom and open spaces of the desert. Rishka had turned moody and short-tempered, almost as bristly as when she first came to us. Hayika avoided the rest of us whenever she could, saying with her usual rudeness, “What a fool I was for bringing the horses back. I should have just kept riding south when I had the chance.”

  In reality, we had no wish to make a new camp in that place. We were all restless, quarrelsome, and impatient; wanting to be gone from there, to be on the move again. Our provisions were low, the food monotonous, our clothes and bedding smelled of rot and mildew, and our tempers were short. We made our plans to leave, though we still had to wait for the horses to rest and fatten on the new grass. In the meantime, we set to work clearing out the caves, drying our things as best we could on sunny days, and packing everything in readiness for departure. I envied the horses, who had none of this bother. They slept on their feet, carried their coats on their backs, and found food right under their noses.

  In the midst of all this, I had my own personal journey to make. I was not the same Tazzi who had gone into the caves that winter. That Tazzi had died. She had been nothing but a walking ghost for months. The young woman the Witches had called back to life with the magic of flesh and passion was a new person. As such, she was in need of a new name. I went to consult with Alyeeta, thinking that the Witches, of course, would have a ritual for such a thing. She looked me up and down as if I were an intruder and answered tartly, “The Witches have done enough for you already, girl, more than enough. You must not expect our help for every little thing in your life. Go ask the Mother for whatever help you need, or look into your own heart for what lies there. That should be quite enough.”

  Startled, I took a step back. Her response was as unexpected as a slap. Clearly, Alyeeta had resharpened her tongue. I was no longer the favored child under her loving protection. At some earlier time, I would have been crushed by hurt or seething with anger or both. And I would surely have nursed those feelings for future use. Instead, I found myself laughing i
n a great burst of good humor. The sun had come out, and Alyeeta’s scowling face looked very comical on that bright, clear spring morning. “Well, I can see that the sweet Alyeeta of the winter is gone. She must have melted away in the spring rains. Thank you, however, for your good advice. I will do as you say. I will go and ask the Mother for Her help, as the Witches have no more to give.” Then I leaned forward, gave Alyeeta a quick kiss on the mouth, and went running off in search of Dancer. Just once, I glanced back to see her staring after me, shaking her head, looking both pleased and puzzled.

  I sent out a call from my mind and Dancer came galloping up, clods of dirt flying from her hooves. She stopped just inches away, close enough for me to feel the heat of her breath. I jumped on her back, leaned forward, and whispered in her ear, “Take me to some wonderful place full of power and magic and beauty.” I had no idea what a horse could make of such words, but she set off with no hesitancy.

  For a while, we went north along the edge of the sea cliffs. It was a glorious day. Spring and joy were bubbling in my blood. If I had been with a lover at that moment, no doubt we would soon have been off our horses and rolling together in the soft new grass. I felt just an instant of regret for my lost lovers and for the aloneness in my life at that time. Then, in the next instant, that mood lifted, carried away on an ocean breeze, and I felt myself rising with the seabirds and soaring out over the sea.

  I must explain here that during our long sojourn in the caves, I had never once been down to the ocean. From our place of caves, there was no way down the dangerous high cliffs that rose straight out of the water. The only ways I had heard spoken of were farther north or farther south than I had cared to go in my gray mood—or on a borrowed horse. Besides, first there had been winter’s cold and ice and then the rains of spring. Now, with a mix of fear and curiosity, I wondered if Dancer would help me find my own way down to the Cherbonaishi, “the wild waters,” as Rishka called the sea. Calling out with their strange, sharp cry, the kiri soared and swooped, flying always just in front, as if to lure us on.

  Riding on Dancer was always an adventure. She tossed her head so that her mane rose in the wind while she danced sideways, first to one side and then to the other, a creature so full of life it seemed as if she might take wing at any moment. When she finally tired of running, I let her stop and graze as she wished. I had no notion of where we were going and was in no hurry to get there. At last the grassy headlands narrowed and we neared the woods to the right of us. There, the land grew steeper and steeper, until it turned into the base of a hill.

  Long before we came to it, I could hear the rush of water. All along the way, we had been crossing little rivulets that flowed down through the woods and rushed or meandered across the headlands before plunging over the cliffs into the sea. Dancer had made her way through these with ease. This torrent of water was different. It blocked our way. There was no question of crossing it, either on foot or on horseback. Fierce and wild, it had hollowed a deep gouge out of the headlands. The water in it frothed brown with spring flooding. I could hear boulders rumbling against each other from the power of its flow. Clearly, we were meant to stop here.

  Slipping from Dancer’s back, I went to look over the edge of the cliff. The sight made me suck in my breath. Fierce as these waters were now, they must have been much fiercer at some earlier time, for they had cut a deep hollow, making a natural stairway that plunged straight down to the sea. It was not an easy way to go, but it was at least a possible one. Below, the ocean frothed and foamed, rushing in and drawing back in long lines of waves. Instantly I felt the lure of Cherbonaishi, calling me, drawing me to her. When I looked back, I saw that Dancer had already gone to graze. I hesitated for just a moment longer, feeling very small and alone in the face of all that power. Then, as if the decision had been made for me, I felt my feet beginning to move.

  Almost immediately, it became clear that my clothes were a hindrance on this journey—or at least that I did not want them. Quickly and impatiently I stripped them off. There was a sharp, restless breeze blowing, so I tied them for safekeeping to a little sapling whose roots went deep into the crevice of the rock face. The rest of this little tree hung perilously out over space with my clothes waving from its branches. Like flags in the wind, they marked the place of my descent.

  The climb down was hard and perilous, far more difficult than it had appeared from above. Sometimes I had to make several tries before I found a purchase for my feet. Occasionally rocks broke away in my hands and went clattering down with a terrible echoing sound. Once, my foot slipped. With a gasp, I felt my whole body begin to slide until that foot came to rest on a little ledge.

  In spite of my fear, I never once thought to go back. After a while, I even began to adapt to the task. I felt myself becoming a lizard or a snake, slithering down the rock surface with all of my body pressed against it, clinging to the crevices with my toes and fingers. Soon I lost myself in the pleasure of the climb. The rock was deliciously warm after the long chill of winter, and the sun was hot on my skin. Sometimes water, cold with snowmelt, would splash up from the cascade next to me, making me shiver with delight. At some moment I was amazed to look down and see how close the waves had come, how far I had already climbed.

  As I neared the bottom, I could see that the rush of water next to me ended in a long waterfall. My little stone stairway brought me out at the base of it. I was even able to slip behind it and look out through a shimmering, shivering curtain of water at the blue-green, restless ocean. Then, with a shout, I climbed down the rest of the way until I found myself standing in front of the ocean herself, with her great waves towering up and rushing in at me.

  Cold! Cold! Cold! That first touch of my foot told me all I needed to know. I would look with my eyes, not with my body. Still, that moment began my long, passionate love affair with Cherbonaishi. But that is not what I want to write of here. I had come to find a new name for myself. I felt as if I needed to put my body in water for this very private ritual to be sacred. The ocean and the waterfall were both too cold and too violent. I found myself being drawn to walk along the rocks at the edge of the sea, just out of reach of the waves. It was there that I found a little pool hollowed in the smooth rock, full of sun-warmed water. This was clearly an invitation. With a sigh, I lowered myself into the pool and groaned with pleasure. “Thank you, Mother,” I said aloud.

  I felt as if all of me were melting into that seductive warmth, all the aches and bruises from the hard climb down, all the cold and pain of that endless winter. With sudden gratitude I thought, Whatever else happens to me in my life, I will always have this moment. I could feel my breasts floating, softly buoyant in the water. I could see my body’s reflection, wonderfully distorted by the quivering blue-green. This little piece of the ocean was just for me. I had not felt so loved or blessed since I had been a girl in my village and shared love with Kara down by the river. That memory stirred in me, pleasure this time instead of pain. I opened my legs slightly, letting in the sun-warmed water. Then I ran my fingers slowly several times over my hardening nipples. Finally my hands came to rest between my legs. I began to seek my pleasure there, with the warm water surrounding me, the waves crashing in front of me, and the dome of blue sky arching above. The kiri were soaring overhead. My cry, when it came, mingled with theirs. Afterward, I sank down to doze with my head against the rock and my chin just touching the water.

  I sat up with a start, amazed to hear a voice so close. In the world and for the needs of the world you will be Tazzil, close to your old name but with more power. Here and in your secret heart you will be Cherbonaishim, child of the sea. I looked all around. No one was there, of course. I listened intently for more words, some further message, but already the voice had faded. Shivering, I stood up, not sure if it all came from my own mind or from another or from some distortion in the sounds of the sea. Clouds had covered the sun and the day was growing late. “Tazzil,” I said aloud to try it out. “Tazzil! Tazzil! Tazzil!
” I shouted to the ocean. The kiri answered me again. “Cherbonaishim,” I whispered, making a pledge in my heart that I would find us a place to live and that it would be near the sea. It mattered little whose voice I had heard or where it had come from. I had found what I came for. Later I would thank Alyeeta for her good advice, but I was not sure if I would share with her my new names as yet.

  As I rode toward the caves, I was much relieved to see our campfires burning like beacons ahead of me. When Dancer and I reached the camp, it was already dusk. I was just exchanging a few words with Tzaneel, who was standing watch that evening, when suddenly Alyeeta appeared beside me. She must have been watching for my return. She drew me away quickly, without even speaking to Tzaneel. “Well, what happened?” she asked impatiently. “Did you find what you went for? Do you have a new name?”

  I was not going to give her that satisfaction. “You are the one who sent me off, Alyeeta, and for that I am grateful. The rest is between me and the Mother.”

  * * *

  When I came back, I kept my new name in my heart and only gradually began to tell other women. They did not press me for it. Goddess knows, they had other matters on their minds, such as when we would leave and where we would end our journey. We would go south, that much we all agreed on, south in search of some unoccupied place along the coast where we could settle safely with our horses, build a settlement, and find some peace far away from the affairs of men and armies. The Khal Hadera Lossien would not spend another winter in the northland, that was clear. The question was Where we would go, and by what route? Pell was drawing maps again, asking advice of any who knew the coast and the south. Now that I had returned to myself, she had made me her second-in-command again. I was reluctant, but she said she needed me.