by Diana Rivers
Garrell stared after her for a moment in amazed silence. Then he found his voice. “Lorren, are you going to let her leave that way? Are you really going to let her take away my children? Are you going to send me home without my wife and my children?”
Up till then, Yolande had watched everything and had not said a word. Suddenly she stood up, her red hair flaming brightly in the evening light, her green eyes flashing. She pointed her finger at Garrell and shouted, “I want that man out of my house! I am done with patience! I am done with listening! This house is my home as well as Lorren’s, and I cannot stand the sight of that man’s face anymore. I do not want to hear his voice ever again. It brings back all those years of war and death and misery. It reminds me of losing my man and my child, of being driven out of my home. It was Garrell who wanted to keep fighting and fighting until we all were dead. Get him out now, before he says another word.”
Lorren was shaking his head, looking back and forth between Yolande and Garrell. “Man, did you hear nothing at all today? Have you understood none of this? I cannot make Friana come back to you, nor would I wish to. It is you who have driven her away with your own hands. In fact, it is not in my power to make Friana do anything at all. I have no army and no guards to do my bidding. If I am leader here, it is by consent or because others like my advice or my ways, but Wanderers cannot be compelled against their will and they will never compel another’s will. It is against their code, against the Cerroi. As to your children, a man who is violent forfeits his right to his children. Children have their own rights. Now Yolande has said she wants you gone from here, and I must honor her wishes, as she so seldom makes them known. You have two of your own men with you. Perhaps Ormorth, Jallen, and Marth will also consent to escort you home.” Then he bowed slightly. “There is something to be learned from this day, Garrell, if you can open your heart to it.”
By now Garrell had struggled to his feet. His eyes were wild as he swung his head around, glaring at us all. Then he fastened his glare on Lorren. “You will regret this, Lorren the traitor, you and that woman of yours, you will be sorry for this day, I promise you that. All the misfortune in my life has been because of you. You took my father’s land by trickery and now you have taken away my wife and children. You will be sorry. You will wish—”
“Go now!” Yolande thundered in a voice full of pain and fury. “NOW!”
Lorren’s voice cut through the air like ice. “Out of our house! Never come back here again, Garrell, unless there is some common danger and you have been granted permission. Never come back to Wanderer Hill or Zelindar or anywhere nearby, and never try to see Friana again. That is final and absolute. Now leave!”
“On to your horse now,” Ormorth commanded, forcefully taking hold of Garrell’s arm. “We have a long ride ahead.”
I stood watching Garrell leave, shaking my head until Rishka leaned over and said in my ear, “I think I have heard enough philosophical drivel today to last me all my life. Personally, if I could, I would take that man out and hang him. And maybe even that would be too kind.”
I laughed and felt some of the tension drain away. “Ah yes, Rishka, you always were a fountain of kindness. I remember that from when we first met.”
“Those were the days, eh? Well, I think I have been getting soft ever since. But in truth, what possible excuse is there for leaving a man like that alive after what he has done? He is not worth one hair on her head. And you know what the worst of it is? The worst of it is that he thinks he has the right. And the rest of the worst is that she grieves for him.”
“He could change, Rishka. Maybe he learned something today.”
She gave a bark of bitterly laughter. “Oh, I have no doubt he could change, but for better or for worse? What will he have to do to his next wife to prove he is a man? Chain her to the bed? Break her legs? Cut off her hands? Yes, I have no doubt he could change, but tell me, Tazzi, did he seem to you like a better man when he left? Do you think he opened his heart to Lorren’s little homilies? I say he is a dangerous creature and not much addicted to the truth. The fact of it is, we would be better off with him dead, all of us. Instead, he is free to go home with his heart full of hate and make more trouble.” With that, she slipped her arm through mine. “Come on, Councilor. Let me give you a ride home on Lightfoot’s back. Your ride has already left, going in another direction.”
There were still so many things I wanted to talk to Lorren about. There were even questions I wanted to ask Yolande, if she would consent to answer me. But not on this day. This day had already held more than one day’s worth of happenings. I squeezed Rishka’s arm and followed her out of the shelter.
The day was already turning toward evening. We rode home in silence, each in our own thoughts, though I was glad for the contact of Rishka’s body against mine. Her words kept going through my head. I knew she was right. We would all be better off with Garrell dead. And yet, I felt some perverse crack of pity in my heart for the man, perhaps the same pity I had felt for Rishka when she had first come to us so full of rage and hate.
Chapter Twenty
A year later, old Norn died in the early spring. His death came after a hard, three-month battle with coughing-sickness that no cure seemed able to touch, neither Kourmairi medicine nor Witch healings, nor anything else that was tried. A day or so later, his old wife, Segna, died too. It was as if she had only been waiting for him. Their double funeral brought many of us together, Hadra and Kourmairi and Wanderer. A Kourmairi delegation even came from Indaran to pay their respects. It was led by Garrell’s cousin, Ossan, the new chief who had been chosen in his place. Garrell’s absence did not surprise me. I certainly did not miss him. No doubt Lorren and Yolande were equally relieved not to see him there.
Standing by the funeral pyre, I was amazed at the sense of grief and loss I felt for this man had I barely known. It was as if something very fine had gone out of the world. Though I had spoken to Norn only a few times, still I had felt his protective presence watching over us all those years as we were struggling to build Zelindar. He must have known he was dying, for he had summoned me only a month before to meet the new headman, wanting, I suppose, to ensure continued peace and friendship between our peoples.
Lomaire had seemed to me as different from Norn as possible, though I sensed a strong mutual respect between them. A much younger man, he struck me as shrewd, hardheaded, practical, and fair, altogether not a bad combination for leading the Kourmairi settlement of Zelandria forward into a new era. I liked the man, yet I did not think I would ever feel the affection for him that I felt for Norn. He held out his hand to me while looking me up and down as if to take my measure. “So this is the Hadra chief. I regret I was not here for your other visits, Tazzil. And I am very glad for this chance to meet you at last.” There was a slight tone of mockery or challenge in his voice. In his head I could hear him thinking, But she is only a girl. How can she possibly have done all those things?
I took his hand, pressed it hard, and smiled boldly into his face. “True, I am only a girl, but I am also a Hadra leader. Though we may all look like girls to you, every Hadra has done as much or more than all those stories that are told of us. Do not be fooled, Lomaire, appearances can be very deceiving.”
Norn chuckled into his hand. For a moment, Lomaire stared at me, totally taken aback. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “So you can read minds, just as they say. Well, I consider myself warned. I will not think to cheat you in a trade and will do my best to keep on your good side. I can see you would make a fine ally and a formidable enemy.”
“Exactly right,” I answered with a nod. “A good plan. Much better an ally than an enemy.”
Norn was looking very pleased. “I told you she would be something to reckon with. You have met your match and more here, Lomaire.” Then he reached for a hand from each of us and pressed them together. “See that you both deal fairly and honorably with each other in the years to come. I have not much time left in this world. I
am an old warrior and my kind is not needed here anymore. It is up to you now to make the new way.” Suddenly he began coughing, a deep, wracking cough that shook his whole body. Segna rushed in to scold us for keeping him up so long. Then, turning her anxiety on Norn, she asked sharply, “How can you ever hope to get well if you let people take up so much of your time?” She shooed us out and was already fussing over him as we left. That was the last time I saw Norn alive.
* * *
I happened to be present when Lomaire and Ossan first met. Lomaire and I had been standing together, talking of Norn’s death, when Ossan walked up to us. I was the one who introduced them to each other. Though they were polite enough, there was an instant tension in the air. They reminded me of two rams taking each other’s measure, pawing the ground and eager to butt heads. Lomaire bowed slightly and said in that same ironic tone he had used with me, “And so, Ossan, we meet without a blade between us, you, the new chief of the Indaran settlement and I, the new headman at Zelandria. I met your father once when our people were still enemies. I am glad to meet you now, when there is peace between our people. And I grieve that it is Norn’s death that brings us here together. Let us hope there will be some happier occasion for us to meet again.”
“I, too, grieve for him, though he was once my enemy. He was a bold warrior, a good leader, and an honorable man. And I also hope there will be happier times for our people all to gather.”
Under this stiff, restrained talk there were some very different thoughts at work. From Ossan’s mind I heard, This man is lucky we meet in peace. He does not look as if he could hold his own with a sword. At least Norn was a fighter. This one is nothing but a merchant.
At the very same moment, Lomaire was thinking, Ossan is not very secure in his chiefdom. I make him uneasy, and he wishes he had his sword in hand to make him my equal. Then he would feel more like a man.
I almost erupted in laughter; it was a hard struggle to continue making this pretense of polite conversation. Lomaire must have seen the little smile that twitched at the corner of my mouth. Suddenly he gave Ossan a brotherly pat on the shoulder. “Be careful, Ossan; this one has the gift of reading minds. From me, you have nothing to fear on that count. I would not know if you meant to run me through with your sword in the next minute, but she knows all your thoughts and how they differ from your spoken words. Of course she knows mine as well, so we are equal in that.”
Ossan flushed and so did I. Lomaire had caught us both off guard and leveled us both with one well-aimed blow. I had to take a moment to catch my breath before I answered, “Well, Lomaire, as you said of me, you would make a formidable enemy. I would much rather have you for a friend. Ossan, I trust we shall meet again in better times. Now if you will both excuse me, I need to go see to the horses.” The only thing I needed to see to was mending my pride and getting myself extricated from there as quickly as possible. Lomaire needed no gift of mind-sight to know that. As I walked away quickly, I heard them laughing together.
* * *
At the funeral pyre, Nanyia rose to speak for her grandmother, Segna. She shared childhood memories of her and even sang some songs that Segna had taught her when Nanyia was still a girl. As Nanyia stepped down, her face was wet with tears, but she shook away the hands that reached out with comfort and walked off by herself. Then Lomaire stood up to speak for Norn. This man who spoke with such passion seemed very different from the Lomaire that Norn had introduced to me or the one who had just bested me so cleverly with his words. The grief in his voice sounded real and very deep. “I mourn this man with my whole heart. I grieve for him as if he had been my own father. And, indeed, he has been a father to all of us, leading us through a hard, bloody time and into a time of peace. He is at rest now, and we must continue to build our settlement in his memory, a settlement he would be proud of if…”
As I was far from the platform, the rest of Lomaire’s words were lost to me, drowned out by the wailing and chanting for the dead. After a while, I went even farther away, to be alone with my own thoughts and feelings. If I could have chosen anyone in the whole world as my grandfather, I think I would have chosen Norn. Later, when we each came up to speak our own words for the dead and add our sticks to the funeral pyre, that is what I said. Before that, of course, I had to make my formal speech as Hadra councilor.
The funeral rites were to go on all week, but some of us left after only three days, feeling we were needed at home. I rode back with Alyeeta, Lorren, Yolande, Pell, and Hereschell, an interesting combination, to be sure. At first, we shared our memories of Norn. Then, for most of the way, we talked of all that had happened in our lives since that fateful meeting at the river between the Kourmairi and the Hadra. Finally, Lorren and Hereschell began talking of Ebron’s death and whether they could have prevented it. I felt a terrible sense of foreboding. Yolande looked strangely agitated, almost ill. At last, she had to ask them to stop. We all reached home in a very somber mood.
* * *
More than a year had gone by since our first crop of babies was born. In spite of my terrible predictions, they were all thriving, and Zelindar had not collapsed under the weight of this added burden. I myself was trying to learn how to live with the noise and disruption of children at every meeting and on every project. Now other women were swollen with child from last fall’s Essu. In the rush and busyness of our lives, we had not yet held a naming and welcoming ceremony for the ones already born from the first Gimling. It was well past time.
Finally, it was decided at council that we would do a single ritual for all the new children. Tama, Ozzet, and Kilghari spoke for planning it. One morning, a month or so after Norn’s death, mothers took their children down to the bay by the first light of dawn. I was with Pell and Tama as they made their preparations to go. Tama and Ishnu were fussing about, looking for last-minute things and putting them all in a basket while Pell held the child awkwardly in her arms. Laisha alternately cooed and struggled for freedom. Pell was shaking her head. “Tell me, Tazzi, did you ever think when we were forcing open the gates of Eezore or fleeing the Zarn’s fastfire that it would end like this, with you as councilor of a Hadra city and me as a nursemaid to a wet and wriggly child?”
Without looking up from what she was doing, Tama said almost sharply, “Pell, if it is too hard to hold her, put her down for Ishnu to mind.” By then, Laisha had struggled free of Pell’s grip and was toddling unsteadily out the door with Ishnu in pursuit.
Pell shrugged and shook her head. “I try, but I am not much good at it. Tell me, Tazzi, what am I to this child? a father? an extra mother? an uncle? Maybe when she is older, I can be her big sister and teach her to ride and swim and tumble. Right now, I am all thumbs.”
I had to laugh at the look of perplexed helplessness on Pell’s face, especially when I thought of all the deadly perils she had faced with nothing more than her wits and her little thief-knife.
“Poor Pellandria,” Tama said, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Defeated and outwitted by a baby.” Then Tama was out the door, rushing after the children. Ishnu had already caught Laisha up in her strong, skinny arms. Pell sighed as she took up the basket. She set off and I followed. We were soon joined by much of the population of Zelindar, flowing down to the bay together in the early-morning light.
Most of the beach had been cleared. Those boat carcasses that still remained had been hung with garlands of flowers and ribbons. Banners were flying from poles stuck in the sand. Even the boats in the bay were brightly decked. Zheran had come to join us, companionably slipping her arm through mine. She was beaming with pride at Ishnu and Laisha.
I looked around at all of us. We were quite a sight, all dressed in our best and brightest clothes for this ritual. Even Yolande was there, wearing a long, sea green dress that rippled in the wind and was almost the same color as the waves. Hugging the children, laughing and talking with the Hadra, she seemed very much at ease among us. I suppose being surrounded by a horde of little creatu
res made the Hadra seem less threatening to her, more like “normal women.”
Suddenly Zheran loosened my arm with a gasp of fear and began running toward the shore. Looking in that direction, I saw Ursa, arms outstretched, balancing on the pointed prow of a boat that was bobbing up and down in the bay, appearing and disappearing as it headed for shore through fairly rough waves. With a cry I headed after Zheran, pushing my way through the crowd with as much speed as I could manage. Zheran reached the edge of the water just as the boat bumped the shore, its prow crunching into the sand. With a shout of laughter, Ursa tumbled into Zheran’s arms, babbling excitedly, “They let me row! I almost fell in! I want to build a boat!”
Zheran immediately set to scolding Ursa for her recklessness and every Hadra in the boat for allowing it. Next, she turned to me. By then I had run up, flushed and panting. “What am I to do with her, Tazzil? She is such a constant worry. I am always afraid for her life. What makes her so wild? She is much more like a Hadra than a Kourmairi.”
I shook my head. “Let her be, Zheran. I hate to see you worry so. She is agile enough and smart enough to keep herself safe. Besides, she is already a strong swimmer.” So often I found myself caught between anger at the child for causing her mother so much grief and admiration for her free, wild spirit that I had no wish to tame. In exasperation I turned to scold Ursa next, but she had already taken advantage of this exchange to dash off and disappear into the crowd.
Mouraine, whose boat it was, had been watching the whole scene. Now she was laughing herself silly. When I glared at her, she shrugged and said with a grin, “No way would I have a baby if that is what they turn into. Boats are so much easier to handle, even in the worst of weather.”
“Babies turn into women like you, born to plague the rest of us,” I snapped at her. Now, thoroughly aggravated with Zheran and Ursa and Mouraine and most of all with myself for my bad temper, I trudged up the shore to join the other Hadra on the beach. Zheran had already gone to look for Ursa.
