The Hadra

by Diana Rivers

  Still, in those first years, the only real challenge had come from Nothra, who was angry that I had blocked her way about some small thing I cannot now recall. Eyes blazing, she had come with three of her Sheezerti friends to face me down. “Nothra,” I told her, “if you want another leader, either go where it pleases you better or gather the women of Zelindar, tell them your grievances, and choose from among you someone who suits your needs. Until that time I am councilor here, and you will do as I say.”

  “We will see about that. I have many friends here. You may not be councilor long.” With that, Nothra had turned on her heel and marched off. I thought she was going to carry out her threat. It was one of those days when I might well have welcomed it. Instead, she went to the ocean to cool her anger. Later she came to find me and apologize. Tama, I knew, would not give up so easily.

  We were thirteen altogether, twelve on the council and myself as Councilor. I had chosen six that I knew well and trusted: Pell, Rishka, Lhiri, Maireth, Kilghari, and Murghanth. Jhemar had refused, saying it would be too painful, with her empathic sensitivity, to sit with everyone’s angry thoughts buzzing in her head. “I much prefer the company of horses, thank you,” she told me with a laugh. I had also asked Kazouri, but she turned me down, saying, “Please, Tazzi, ask another. I have little patience with all that talk and am not much good at it. Set me some task where I can use my body and I will gladly do it for you.” So I had chosen Murghanth in her stead, which I occasionally had the chance to regret. Murghanth had a sharp tongue and a biting wit. She sometimes brought the whole meeting to a halt with her explosive anger. Nonetheless, I valued her honesty and clear insights. As for the other six, I had asked the women I did not know so well to choose them from among themselves.

  Now the full council, along with Tama’s group, had all gathered in the Central Circle. Many others on both sides of the question had come to watch and add their voices. Though the circle looked gay and festive, with banks of bright flowers everywhere, the spirit of the meeting was tense and somber. With Tama as their leader, at least twenty Hadra were there to speak for having children. Murghanth was already in one of her moods. “Brats! One more time! Why do you waste our lives with this, Tama? I will only say again what I have said before: we are not ready.”

  It was Ozzet who spoke up this time instead of Tama, saying firmly, “We want to be heard today by the whole council, not by each of you, one at a time. We have a plan to put forth, and we have given it much thought.”

  Murghanth seemed ready to burst out again when Kilghari, who agreed with Tama, held up her hand. “Please, Murghanth, we have come together in council meeting for this purpose, so let us at least hear what they have to say.”

  “What new thing can they possibly say that we have not heard before?”

  “If you would only shut your mouth for long enough, stick-woman, you might find out,” one of Tama’s companions yelled angrily. It was Nothra, the same Sheezerti who had challenged me that day last fall. She seemed equally ready to take on Murghanth.

  Murghanth whirled on her. “Belly-of-a-dog!” she shouted back. “Is that any way to talk to someone who sits on the council, especially another Sheezerti?” At that, the council meeting disintegrated into chaos, with Hadra all shouting at each other. We would, no doubt, have come to blows if such a thing were possible among us. As it was, it took a while for Pell, myself, and Kilghari to restore some order and longer still for there to be enough quiet for Tama to speak.

  Tama stood very straight before us, while the rest of us, having finally been silenced, sat in a semicircle to listen. “Sisters, Councilor, Hadra of the council, thank you for hearing us. We have talked much among ourselves. We have tried to look at all the questions and find some solution. It has not been easy, but waiting any longer is simply not an answer. After considering everything, we came to the idea of inviting those men who are willing, Wanderer and Kourmairi both, to attend our fall Essu. In that way we are in our own place, with the safety of Zelindar around us, and cannot come to harm. Those of us intending to make babies can come together with the men under cover of darkness so that no man can lay claim to the child and no Hadra can make any claim on the man.”

  With those words the meeting erupted again. Tama was barely able to finish her speech before the storm broke. Murghanth was on her feet, screaming, “Is that what we have come to, a bunch of whores in the night with no shame at all? Will you carry a little pouch for the coins? How can you think to bring this filth here into our own city?” Many angry voices were shouting back at Tama, though Murghanth’s was still the loudest. Finally Murghanth burst out, “I will not stay and listen to this garbage any longer!” Before storming off, she threatened, “If this happens, the Essu will have to take place without the Sheezerti. We will not disgrace ourselves by performing there.”

  After Murghanth’s fiery exit, the meeting went on with less turmoil, but now there was a flood of questions. Kilghari asked, “What if they are boys? Will they stay here among us or go to the Kourmairi to be raised?” And Shartel asked, “Do we choose these men or do they choose themselves?” And Rishka added, “What if we think some of them unsuitable?” Then Lhiri raised her voice: “Since these children will have no fathers, will they at least have a second mother or will we all be their mothers?” Altogether far more questions were raised than answered. After much talk and no decision, we finally ended that meeting by planning the next one.

  Following a month of meeting and talking and arguing and meeting yet again one more time, we finally let Tama and Ozzet and the others have their way, not because we liked their plan but because we finally understood that all the other alternatives were so much worse. Murghanth stormed off for the last time, shouting, “Let someone else take my place on this council of fools!” But she did not fight the decision anymore, and we did not argue with her departure.

  And so, that fall, for the first time, we invited the Wanderers and Kourmairi who were our neighbors to come to our Essu. There were horse races and foot races and boat races, along with games of chance and games of skill. Cookfires burned day and night. The Kourmairi brought food to share, and together we feasted on the plenty of our harvest. Zelindar echoed with the sound of men’s voices. Never before had Hadra wrestled with Wanderers and Kourmairi. We Hadra even drank some yors and quillof, something we did not usually allow ourselves. The Muinyairin did a show of trick riding, changing horses at a run to the shouts of the watchers. Then a group of Wanderers did a performance of mime and music that gained them thunderous applause. Finally, not to be outdone, the Sheezerti, with Murghanth in the lead, appeared in all their finery and entertained us with their best performance ever. Later, when I questioned her, Murghanth answered tartly, “I have a right to change my mind. Besides, we could not let the Wanderers best us in that way.”

  Under all the merriment and rivalry, another energy was humming, an energy that seemed both full of threat and full of promise. When it grew dark, fires were started and torches lit. I went with Pell to get Tama ready for this new and frightening adventure, this stranger in the dark. In the end, she must go to meet with him alone. My hands shook. Pell tried to joke, but she stumbled over her words. Tama kept saying soothing, reassuring things, yet she could not look Pell in the eye. Finally, we had bathed Tama and rubbed her with scented oil, put flowers in her hair, kissed her, and hugged her tightly. Pell was holding her when the drums began to play. “Stay with me, Tama, please,” she pleaded. “Not this year, at least wait a year. By then I will be ready. How can I bear to let you go to some man or men I do not even know?” Never before had I heard Pell beg for anything.

  Tama was shaking her head. “Pell, we have argued all this a hundred times or more and you swore you would let me go when the time came. You know I would not choose to hurt you, but I do what I must from my own heart.” Tama gave her a last, hard kiss. Then Pell released her and turned away. Without another word, Tama vanished, naked, into the darkness.

  I stood for a
while keeping Pell silent company, until she turned to me and said ruefully, “Well, she certainly has a lot of courage, that one. I cannot imagine going out to join with some strange man in the dark. In truth, I cannot imagine joining with men at all, at any time of day or night or for any purpose whatsoever. I would rather face the Zarn’s guards armed with fastfire any day. Come, let us go drink some more quillof together so we can get through these next few hours.” She slipped her arm through mine, and we went off to find the barrel of quillof Norn had donated to the festivities. The rest of that evening was all a drunken blur to me, and the fierce headache of the next morning was something I had no wish to repeat.

  * * *

  By the next spring, it seemed that everywhere I looked I saw swollen bellies parading themselves around. Because of our powers, most of the Hadra had known very soon whether or not they had conceived. Tama told me that the man had been gentle and respectful and Ozzet said much the same, but I had not much interest in their talk of the “Gimling,” as these ritualized matings came to be called. It was already clear to me that it would be repeated again in the fall. Most of those who tried were carrying new life and now others were eager to try. Pell had more than resigned herself to being a co-mother. She was bursting with pride now, as if she herself had fathered this child, instead of some shadow-man lurking in the darkness. She often rested her hand on Tama’s distended belly with a pleased little smile on her face. Even Murghanth had come around in her thinking, for several among the Sheezerti were pregnant, including Nothra. Now Murghanth was full of talk of how the little ones would become part of the troupe and give it new life. But she did not come back to sit on council and we did not ask her to. Teko had taken her place, and that was fine with me.

  With the coming invasion of babies, we were short of midwives, and so, reluctantly, I took up my old occupation and taught others the skill as well. It fell my lot, with Zheran assisting, to be there for the birth of Tama’s baby. Pell was pacing around, as nervous and useless as any new father. She alternated between being afraid to look and putting herself right in our way. “Pell,” I finally told her in exasperation, “either stay behind Tama and help Zheran rub her back or I must order you to leave until you are called.” To my surprise, she did as she was told and gave us no further trouble.

  When the head crowned with its thatch of dark hair, a rush of joy opened up my heart. I saw the new one through a blur of tears as I reached out to catch her and ease her passage from her mother’s body. In all those years of fire and blood and violence and fear, I had forgotten the simple miracle of helping new life into the world. All shiny with blood and mucus, the baby’s long black hair stood up in spikes. Her dark eyes already focus on our faces, and her small red hands opened and closed, grabbing eagerly at life. We laid her at her mother’s breast and Tama groaned with pleasure. I suppose she was not much different from any other new baby, though at that moment she looked astonishingly beautiful to me. When her mouth found the nipple, Tama groaned again. For a moment everyone in the room fell silent to concentrate on the sound of sucking.

  Soon the babies were coming one after the other. I was often awakened in the dark of the night, as babies seem to like that time best for making their first appearance in the world. If the birth was in the daytime, Ishnu would follow me there. At first I tried to discourage her, as I did not want to be burdened with the child, but she would sneak back when I was not watching. I would suddenly see her little face peering out intently from among the women. She was very persistent. After a while, it seemed easier to let her help with small chores than to try to send her away. After all, she was not much younger than I had been when Old Tolgath had begun my training, and she soon proved to be quick and attentive.

  At first, Ishnu had been afraid that Tama would lose interest in her now that Tama had her own child. Instead, Ishnu became a little second mother. She was as likely to be with Pell and Tama and the new baby as at home with Zheran.

  When these birthings were finally over, one of our most pressing questions had been answered. Among the Hadra, all the babies were female. Apparently, that was another of our Hadra powers.

  * * *

  Yolande came to visit with us now, something she had never done before the babies were born. And some of the new mothers went to visit her at the Hill. Some even went to show Lorren their babies, sitting amidst his books and artifacts, proudly displaying their wriggly, noisy bundles. I suppose I should have been glad of this and in a way, of course, I was. This was finally the peace I had wanted for so long between Yolande and the Hadra. Though she did not become my friend, at least Yolande began to talk to me as if I were simply another woman. Perhaps, now that she saw me as a midwife, I was no longer a dangerous monster in her eyes.

  One morning, when she was on her way to visit with Tama and the baby, she sought me out. “Tazzil, it seems I have judged you Hadra wrongly, or harshly, and I would like to make amends. Perhaps I can do so now, by helping to care for these new children.” I knew Yolande had lost her only child in the fighting and Lorren had confided in me that they had tried for a baby of their own with no success.

  “Yolande, we are very grateful for your help. As there are few mothers or aunts or grandmothers here among us to share their wisdom, we need someone to guide us through.”

  She smiled and there was no ice in it this time. “I needed to start a new life. If I had stayed among the Kourmairi, everything would have reminded me of the man I loved and lost, of my child who was killed. I would have grown hard and bitter, full of grief and thoughts of vengeance. Here, I can forget. I can see something new being born and be a part of it as well. I can really put my love where it is valued. Maybe I can even help to mend some of the terrible harm that has been done.”

  I thought again of how very beautiful she was. Now, when she looked at me, her green eyes had compassion in them instead of coldness. Yes, I was glad enough to have peace between us, but when I went to visit with Lorren, it felt as if my sanctuary had been invaded by babies, the sound and the smell and the sight of them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  This visit from Friana was very different from all the others, that much I could tell at a glance. Ozzet had come running to fetch me. I had been with Maireth and Katchia in the new storeroom that was attached to the common kitchen. We were sorting through supplies when I thought I heard my name being called. Then Ozzet burst in on us, saying breathlessly, “Tazzil, come quickly! Friana! Trouble! Come quickly!” I dropped what I was holding and rushed out after her, with the other two close on my heels.

  Trouble indeed, that was plain enough to see. Even at a distance I could tell from how Friana’s horse stood: legs apart, head down, sides heaving. Friana would never have ridden her horse to exhaustion that way for amusement. When I came closer, I saw the dark purple stain of a bruise across her cheek, the swollen eye, and the cut, puffy lips. With her arm bent at a strange angle, she held her little girl in front of her on the winded horse. Clearly, the child was terrified. Friana had her new baby cradled in a shawl that was tied to her back. Yes, trouble! It looked like a whole lot of trouble to me.

  In the six or so years since the Hadra had occupied Zelindar, Friana had come to visit several times, though we had not seen her since the new baby was born. She always came with other Kourmairi women from her settlement, laughing and chatting gaily with everyone, stopping to gossip with the Kourmairi women who lived among us, bringing things to trade or exchanging small gifts. Her little girl Marklishia—Markla to us—was a real favorite in the settlement and often came with her mother, though I had never again seen the boy who had been a baby in Friana’s arms at that fateful meeting.

  This was not the first time I had seen marks on Friana’s face or arms. Before, when we asked, she had usually laughed it off, blaming her clumsiness or some little household accident, though, of course, we all knew well enough who was to blame and she knew we knew. When she spoke of Garrell, she always said he was a kind, good man under his r
ough exterior. I had my doubts. I wondered why she defended him so and why, each time, she returned to him. This time I did not think she would be going back. I felt the chill wind of foreknowing go up my back.

  Other women had already gathered. They were trying to coax Markla from Friana’s arms so that Friana could dismount, but Markla was sobbing wildly and clinging tightly to her mother. Friana was shaking her head, saying to them, “No, wait for Tazzil. She must give me an answer.” As soon as she saw me, she called out in a voice full of desperation, “Tazzil, can you help me? Tell me if I can stay. I cannot go back, I would kill myself first, and I am afraid to go to Sierran’s for fear it will give Garrell an excuse to begin the killing again. Only tell me if I can stay here before I get off this poor horse.” Many voices were answering her all at once, calling out, “Stay with us, Friana.” “Of course we want you here.” “You and the children are always welcome among us.” But Friana kept her eyes fixed on me. “What do you say, Tazzil? You are leader here. What do you say?”

  “Yes, of course you can stay. You will be safe here. We will see to it.” Even as I gave my quick assurance, I felt that chill again and shivered.

  “Garrell will come after me. He will come here, you must know that.”

  “Whatever Garrell does, he cannot take you away from us against your will.” Friana groaned and slid from the horse as if she had been holding herself up by sheer will. Ozzet caught Markla in her arms. Kazouri and Shartel caught Friana and cushioned her fall. They lowered her down gently, keeping the baby from harm. Tama untied the shawl with care. She lifted the baby tenderly to hold against her chest. It seemed strange that the baby had slept through it all. Her head lolled awkwardly and I wondered if she had been drugged to make escape possible.