by Diana Rivers
“And you want to watch.”
“If I am allowed to. It is altogether your choice whether or not you wish to be my friend and let me into your lives.”
“And if we asked you to leave, would you do so, even though you have made all this possible?”
“Yes, of course. Tazzil, I have no hold on you. I have done what I came to do. There is no price on it. There never was.”
I stood staring out at the ocean. The sun was beginning to sink. The day was cooling. The field below us was almost cleared, with only the wispy smoke from a few cookfires to signal all that had happened there. Most of the Kourmairi had already left. In the distance I could see some of the Hadra, exploring their new home. Suddenly my heart ached at the thought of losing Lorren from my life. But I had needed to hear him say he would go if we asked, that we owed him nothing. Once he said it, I knew how much I would miss him, how much I did not want him to leave. I reached out my hand. “Stay and settle near us. It saddens me to think of you gone. I feel that you and I will be friends for the rest of our lives. And Lorren, please, find a way to get your books. We will have need of them here.”
Lorren let out a deep sigh. I understood then that he had been holding his breath against what I would say. I smiled at him in the fading light. “So we both had to be ready to give up this place in order to have it,” I said aloud. To myself I thought, No matter what he thinks, the Goddess has been at work here today.
Chapter Fourteen
All of the next day was spent exploring this place the Kourmairi had alternately called Zelandria or Indaran, depending on which clan was occupying the territory. We had examined the ruins of the meeting house with thoughts of reconstructing it, clambered over the burnt-out carcasses of boats to go swimming in the bay, and walked out to the end of the long curving spit of land that protected the bay from the thundering surf. Like children, we had waded back and forth across the Escuro, shallow now from summer’s dryness, just to be on the other side. Then we had climbed all over the first two hills, making plans for what we would build there. For me, the reality of what we had gained was finally eclipsing the visions in my head.
Late that afternoon, I led the others up the third hill to the lookout rocks, the first place Lorren had shown me. Driven by eagerness and impatience, I went straight up the front rather than taking them by the longer, gentler way that had no view. Pell was right on my heels. “Tazzi, we have to decide what to call this place, now that it is really ours.” Her voice was full of excitement, but she was panting from the exertion of struggling up the steep path. Josleen and Hayika groaned, as did several others. “That means at least a three-hour argument,” Vestri answered sourly. “At least,” Maireth echoed. “Count me out of it,” Jhemar said emphatically. “I have heard enough Hadra arguments to last me all my life. They hurt my head. I am willing to call this place by whatever name you all decide.” I kept my silence, too filled with joy and wonder to even think of arguing. Jhemar was right. Let them call it whatever they pleased as long as no one thought to take it from us.
We had left our horses below, as there was no room for all of them on that rocky top. Alternately grumbling about the steepness and exclaiming about the view, we reached the top both weary and elated. At that moment, only Hadra were with me. Alyeeta, Olna, and Telakeet had left with Raylia of Indaran to do some healing work. Zheran had seen a long-lost cousin among Norn’s clan and gone off to visit with her for a few days. Much to my surprise, Katchia had stayed behind, talking earnestly with Yolande and Bathrani by the ruins of the old meeting hall.
Pell went immediately to the very top and stood looking out, so close to the edge that my stomach clenched and the soles of my feet ached. “Zelindar,” she said abruptly. “We can put together their two words, Zelandria and Indaran, and make it ours. Zelindar!” She was nodding, clearly pleased with herself. I could hear other Hadra mumbling the word, trying it out. When I heard Rishka repeating it with no rancor, I knew instantly that it was the right name. The new Hadra city would be Zelindar, perhaps the only time we would ever name something without an argument. Zelindar, I whispered softly to myself. The word seemed to echo up from the land below.
Then Pell was stretching out her arms. “Ours! All ours! Three hills, the valleys between them, a river, and an ocean, all ours, a home for star-brats, a final stopping place for this ragged and mismatched collection of thieves, beggars, Witches, and hunted fugitives. Zelindar! Well done, Tazmirrel. You got us here. It was worth every hardship.” Then she turned and fixed me with her intent stare. “But now, let me tell you, girl, I, for one, will not travel one more step down that road. If this place does not please you, if it is not good enough, if you want to go on any farther down the coast to settle, then you must go alone. Or, at least, without me.”
“No, no, Pell,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I am done with traveling, at least for the moment. This is the place that called to me.” In my head, I heard the word home echoing like the sound of a great drum.
Tama came up and put her arm through Pell’s. There were tears in her eyes. “Is it over? Can we stay? Can we finally make a home together? After all these years, is this the end of running?” Then she pulled on Pell’s arm. “And come back from that edge, Pellandria. I could not bear to lose you now to foolishness.”
Pell laughed. “The end of running, Tama, I promise you. And no, I do not plan to go tumbling off that edge.” She stepped back and put her arms around Tama. “The end of being fugitives, my love. From now on, we are Hadra. We are a power here. We have saved Mishghall, freed the coast from the Zarn’s weight, made peace among the Koormir, and claimed a space for ourselves. We can do anything we set our hearts to doing.”
Clearly, Pell could still stretch the truth, thief-style. Oh, well, what did it matter? Soon enough, those would be the stories told of us. Probably even now that was the talk. I stepped up on the other side of her and stood staring down, spellbound. Finally, I said, “Can you see it too? The buildings and the flowered terraces and the cobbled walks and the…?”
“And gardens full of summer foods, such as we grew in Darthill?” Ozzet had stepped up beside Tama.
“And fields of grain, there on the plain between the river and the sea,” Zenoria added, pointing toward the Escuro.
“Boats,” Josleen said with excitement. “Boats filling the bay with their bright sails, so we can go up and down the coast with ease.”
Suddenly all of us were standing together at the edge, speaking our dreams. Jhemar talked of shelter for the horses, and Rishka and Zari of having enough grass for them to eat and the peace for them to graze their fill. Kara and Vestri spoke of building a pottery and taking apprentices, to fill the needs of this city we were dreaming into existence. Kara was staring out, speaking as if in a trance, “I will be more than a potter. Shaping bowls and plates is not enough for me anymore. There is something else calling to me, filling my heart, aching to fill my hands. I will make statues of the Goddess for women’s houses and for our Central Circle. I will make a huge statue, even finer than the one in Mishghall, when we build our House-of-the-Mother here. I can already feel the clay taking shape under my hands.”
Shartel said that when the time came, she would go live among the Koormir of Mishghall to learn metalworking and glassmaking, as she already had some skill at those things from the Muinyairin. Maireth said we should mend the ruin by shore and make it a healing house, I said a meeting house, and Kazouri said both. Ozzet and Mouraine each spoke of boats, on the bay and on the river, and how we must learn to build them.
Kilghari spoke with surprising passion, saying, “I want to build myself a hut here and live in it all my life. I have had enough of being a wanderer and a fugitive!” Even Hayika joined in. “I want a place that I can always come back to, no matter how far I wander, a place where I am known and welcomed.” It was more words than I had ever heard her say that were not spoken in anger. Josleen and Megyair talked of leaving in a few days, as soon as they were re
sted, to spread the news that we had found a place. They would try to bring back other women. Hopefully they would also bring back badly needed supplies: tools and seed and cloth and food.
As we were on our second or third round of wishes and visions, Pell threw up her hands. “So much work! Just speaking of it all makes me weary. Let us enjoy this last evening of leisure together. Tomorrow is soon enough to start. Then Tazzi is sure to drive us hard and with no mercy.” With a deep sigh, she sank to the ground and stretched herself out on her back. Tama sank down beside her. She pulled Pell’s head into her lap and began weaving a crown for her from the tiny blue-green flowers that grew all around us on that rocky hilltop.
One by one, the others sat down or stretched out, till I was the last one standing. Kazouri reached over to tug on my leg. “Sit down a moment, Tazzi, and rest yourself. You certainly deserve it. We have the next ten years or more to build this place.” Pell and the others added their voices. I sat reluctantly. It was easier than arguing with them. But I stayed close to the edge and turned only halfway around, so I could watch my companions and at the same time look down on that wonderful scene. A slight breeze rippled the blue-green flowers that carpeted the thin soil of our promontory and grew thickly in all the crevices between the rocks. Below us, the waves shimmered and sparkled, golden in the light of the setting sun.
Rishka and Zari had found a soft place in the moss and lay there kissing. Josleen and Megyair were wrapped in each other’s arms. Tama had put the little crown of flowers on Pell’s head, but Pell quickly put it back on Tama’s. “The queen of the Essu. My queen” she said softly, as she reached up to touch Tama’s face. Tama leaned over, undid Pell’s tunic, and bared her lover’s breasts. Gently, she began caressing Pell’s lean dark body, which turned slowly and lazily under her hands. This was almost more than I could stand. Not sure if I should watch or look away, I could feel my nipples hardening and the heat rising between my legs. Just then, Kara, who had been sitting back-to-back with Vestri, pulled out her flute and began to play. At first she played songs the rest of us knew. Soon we were all singing with her, caught in the lovely magic of day’s end, our voices weaving a spell together on that hilltop. Then, without warning, Kara was playing songs from our childhood, tunes from our village, and then a song she had written just for me.
Suddenly I was torn with longing for everything I had lost: my mother, my sister, my village, my whole childhood, and my lover, Kara, as well. All that had been ripped away from me. I felt grief like a knife blade, while the others lay there, filled with the joy of the moment and unaware of my sorrow. Then the tune changed and as quickly as the grief had come, it was gone. At that moment, sitting at the top of my world and looking down at this beautiful place that was to be our home, I felt happier than ever before in my life. I was surrounded by women who had been my friends and companions through so many dangers, women who were dearer to me than any blood kin could possibly be. Tomorrow we would begin. This final evening was the line between what we had lost and what we would build. For just that moment, all of us were there together at that line.
Chapter Fifteen
Zelindar! If I had had any idea how hard that first year would be—or perhaps I should say that first ten years—would I have gone in search of it that way? Would I have had the courage or the strength or, indeed, the foolishness? In truth, I had many chances to ask myself why I had been so set on this place when I could easily have stayed and been welcome in Dhashoti’s settlement or in half a dozen others up and down the coast. There I could just have done my own work and been like the others; done my own work, no more, no less, and not carried the weight of a new city on my back. But did I have a choice? Did I look for Zelindar or did it seek me out? I had been driven to find it. The place had pulled at me like a magnet, giving me no peace. Perhaps I only did what I had to do, what I was meant to do, from the time I had fled my village.
When women heard that we had found a place to make a Hadra city on the southern coast, they began coming to us from everywhere, just a trickle at first, then more and more, till soon it became a flood of women. Hadra came out of years of hiding: down from the hills, out of secret gathers we had not even known existed, out of the woods, out of caves. They even emerged from tunnels and basements and attics in the cities. They came singly or in small bands, some near dead from starvation, many burned or injured. Often they were as wary and frightened as wild animals and none too friendly. They all had their own tales of terror and pursuit and death, as well as tales of courage and of kindness. Many nights we sat around the fire, telling our stories and listening to each other.
Other Witches came too, some with the bands of Hadra and some from their solitary places in the woods, but all with a hope or a dream of in some way rebuilding or reclaiming the glory of the Witch convents and the lost power of the Witches. Kourmairi women also came to us, women who were not born under the Star and so had no powers but who liked our way of living better than life in the village with their men. Some of them had even been beaten and abused and were running for their lives.
Hardly a day went by without a new influx, sometimes women with useful skills and knowledge but more often women with pressing needs: for healing and food and clothes and shelter and love and much, much, more. At first it was only the twenty or so of us trying to cope with it all. I desperately missed the organizing skills of Renaise and Thalyisi and hoped that some of the other Hadra I knew and trusted would come back with Josleen and Megyair. It was like the scene in Alyeeta’s clearing all over again, just as wild and chaotic, but on a far larger scale. And this time, I was the one responsible, having been elected councilor for Zelindar in a sudden, surprise meeting, organized and directed by Pell.
Alyeeta was delighted with that choice. Gloating, she gripped my arm and said in my ear, “I always said, Tazzia, that you were meant for great things. I foresaw it from the first time I met you. I think you should thank me now for insisting that you learn to read and write. You see how much it will be needed? You see how right I was? You should be grateful.” Not at all grateful, I shook free of her grip and looked around angrily for Pell.
After the choosing, women all around me were cheering and shouting, crowding close to clap me on the back. Many of them were women I barely knew. They might not have chosen me at all if not for Pell’s persuasive speech, full of praise for my “courage and abilities.” I found myself grinning and nodding, trying to act pleased, when in truth I was full of fear and wanted only to run and hide. I was also furious with Pell. She was the one who had called the meeting without even consulting me, and, indeed, it was she who had guided the vote.
I had the feeling that Pell had been avoiding me ever since the meeting. When I finally tracked her down, she was hard at work, helping Ozzet fill some barrels. Seeing the look on my face, Ozzet instantly walked away to let us talk. “You did that on purpose,” I shouted at Pell. “You made it happen.”
“Impossible,” she said, laughing. “The Hadra cannot be made to do anything. You know that as well as I do. They only do as they please. They chose you because they thought you best for the work.” Even as she said those words, she could hardly contain a little grin.
“No, they cannot be forced, that I know, but they certainly can be guided down one path or another by a skilled leader.”
“Well, then that is my last act as leader. I hand it to you, Tazzi. I am done with it now. It is time for you to pick it up. I want no one ever to turn to me again and ask, ‘Pell, what is to be done here?’ That is yours to say. From now on, Councilor, I will do as I am told.” She made a mock bow.
I was angry enough that I would have struck her if I could. Instead, I took a deep breath. “Pell, I am not ready. Help me a little longer. I am afraid.”
She shook her head. “No more of that story, Tazzi, I am finished with listening to it. I have heard it too often. You think I was not afraid for all those months of moving us here and there, trying to find safety from the Zarn’s fire? Yo
u think I was not afraid, knowing that every time I made a wrong choice, it might mean someone’s life—and often did? I tell you, I am done with all that now! It is yours! At least you only have peace to deal with, not pursuit and death. Form a council, find good advisors. If you really want my help, I might even be persuaded to be one of them. And remember: you cannot do anything too wrong, for the Hadra cannot be forced to act against their will. Tazzi, I followed you here and helped you organize this one last trip. Now I have nothing left to give. What else can you possibly want of me? WHAT? WHAT!” Those last words exploded with anger.
I threw up my hands, wanting her to stop. “You are right, Pell. Yes, I hear you…I understand and I accept the…”
But she went on relentlessly, “You knew this was coming. I said I would get us through to safety and then you would have the work of putting it together. I told you over and over that I needed to put this burden down.” She glared at me for a moment longer, and then suddenly she was grinning, all her anger gone. Throwing an arm over my shoulder in a comradely way, she said, “Come, Terrazen, you have what you asked for, space for a city. Now you have been elected leader, to do it as you want. You should be overjoyed. Besides, I warned you many times that when peace came, when we had a place to settle, I planned to grow old and fat and lazy, sitting in the sun.”
