The Winter Boy

by Sally Wiener Grotta

  “Yes, but I’m not sure I know what it is you’re suggesting we should do about them.”

  “I’m simply not willing to sit by and watch our Peace fail. Just because old paths have worked for us in the past doesn’t mean they will carry us forward into the future. All the talk in the world isn’t going to stop the Mwertik. And they obviously have no interest in trade. If we don’t want to lose the Peace, it may be time to take action.”

  “Would you meet violence with violence, Kiv? Is that what you’re insinuating? What would then separate us from the Mwertik?”

  “We Alleshi have always prided ourselves in fitting the solution to the problem, yet we limit ourselves in the kinds of solutions we’re willing to use.” Kiv paused. “What if the only answer to the Mwertik is to stop them in their tracks, before they can kill again, before they destroy everything the Peace has achieved?”

  Rishana couldn’t ignore the ring of truth in what Kiv had to say.

  “I see I’ve upset you, Rishana; that wasn’t my intention. All I ask is that you use your own mind, rather than accept what others are telling you about how to think. Consider looking beyond the limitations we’ve imposed on ourselves. Somehow, we have to find an answer to the Mwertik, before it’s too late. We’ll talk about this again, after you’ve had time to think it over.”

  Chapter 24

  The wonders of the storehouse never failed to captivate Rishana. So large, no single gaze could take in all that it held of produce and provisions, tools and materiel. It was a maze of tree-tall shelves and vats dug deep. Sunlight streamed in from the high windows, filling the cavernous open space in the center, shining on the many pools. Along the walls and in darkened rooms, sealed barrels and casks were piled high, protected from the light.

  Over the centuries, as the Peace spread, more and more goods came in as duty gifts, tribute and trade, and were redistributed carefully to maintain balance and harmony. Farming communities, such as Rishana’s Attani, supplied fresh and preserved foods. Seafarers brought goods and fish from under and across the oceans. While some villages provided raw materials from their mines, others worked the ingots and stones into highly prized finished products. The armory was filled with all levels of armaments, according to the sophistication of their sources, from knives, spears and arrows up to the newest rapid-fire guns that were carefully locked away as soon as they arrived, in the hope that they would never be used.

  Before the young woman had come to The Valley, she hadn’t thought to question the wealth and variety of the Peace, because her village was one of the old ones, so set in Alleshine ways and close to The Valley that she had never known want. Then, as an Alleshine initiate, Rishana had been assigned to assist Caith, the storehouse caretaker, in inventorying that first autumn’s stores and gifts.

  Rishana had taken her duties seriously, believing that the older woman needed her help. But Rishana had quickly learned how energetic and capable Caith was. Few in The Valley could keep up with that spry little woman. And few knew as much about the many villages of the Peace. Savah and other scholars had the library, but Caith’s knowledge was rooted in the earth.

  Early in her training, Rishana had heard the whispered rumors about the permanently sealed rooms, buried in a subterranean labyrinth, which were said to hold dangerous treasures from the Before Times. Never one to put any store in hearsay, one evening she had asked Caith if the gossip were based on any reality. The caretaker had became suddenly somber and had refused to respond.

  Neither of them ever again brought up the subject.

  After her encounter with Kiv, Rishana welcomed the solidity of the storehouse, the embodiment of all that was right with the Peace. Rishana’s footsteps echoed through the empty aisles where she was used to hearing dozens, if not scores of others calling, laughing, negotiating and whispering. For most of the year, the storehouse was a hive of activity with frequent deliveries and disbursements. But in winter, only Alleshi wandered in and out.

  Rishana headed directly for a dark corner, where she lit a gas lamp. She took a jar measure of clover honey from a barrel near the wine rooms. Then she left her bealberries in the preserves section, put her milk and eggs in the dairy coldroom, and browsed among the spice sacks for inspiration. When she heard splashing and singing coming from the center of the building, she quickly lowered the lamp’s flame and headed toward the central ponds.

  Rishana found Caith sitting on the edge of the oyster pond, seeding the smaller oysters with grains of sand.

  Caith waved. “Rishana, hello!”

  Happy and relieved to see that mischievous old Allesha, Rishana rushed over to greet her, though a proper embrace was nearly impossible, with Caith’s feet splashing in the pond and her hands covered with sand.

  Other Alleshi had confided in Rishana that Caith never seemed to change, for she had been old before most of their sisters had come to The Valley. Her charcoal-colored parchment-thin skin had so many wrinkles it seemed impossible there could be room for any more, no matter how much longer she lived. Bones jutted out where flesh should have been. Nevertheless, she flitted about like a busy mosquito. Even in those rare times when her body was at rest, her hands were always reaching and fixing. It was hard to believe that tiny figure could burn enough fuel to maintain her constant pace, especially in one so old and in such a cool building, scantily dressed in her usual undyed wool shift. Yet, there she sat, happily kicking her bare feet in the icy water of the oyster pond.

  “So tell me, how goes it with your First Boy?” Caith asked with a crinkling grin. “Are you here for your oysters?”

  “No, not yet.” Rishana laughed, as she sat on the floor, beside Caith. “It’s much too early, as you well know. I came to bring you milk and eggs, and get some honey.”

  Caith wiped her hands on a cloth and cupped her tiny, calloused fingers around Rishana’s chin, turning the younger one’s face in this direction and that, with a strong, probing touch. Her age-yellowed eyes searched for the signs. “Mmm… Yes… Soon.” She let go of Rishana and returned to her work. “I know the batch of oysters I’ll give you. Sweet tasting, some with small pearls, others large. Yes, soon.”

  Rishana didn’t question that Caith could read her face and see in it what she herself didn’t fully know. Much like a farmer knowing that a crop was ready by the sweet smell of the morning breeze.

  “But there’s something else,” Caith said. “Tell me. What’s happened?”

  Rishana could have taken the question to refer to any of a number of things, but she knew Caith well enough to understand what she was asking. “I ran into Kiv on the way here.”

  “Oh?” Caith placed the oyster she was seeding back into the pond and didn’t pick up another. “What did she say to upset you?”

  Rishana shrugged, not fully comfortable in examining what it was about Kiv that had made her feel off balance. “Mostly, she was giving voice to unsettling ideas I’ve had in my darker moments.”

  Caith’s eyes locked on Rishana’s as forcibly as the gnarled fingers that had left indents in her face. “Such as?”

  “Kiv questions the manner in which we respond to the Mwertik. She says we’re in a dangerous rut and need to consider new ways of thinking about them. She seems to be advocating becoming more aggressive.” Rishana shivered. “What’s most unnerving is that her ideas make sense.”

  Caith nodded, releasing Rishana’s gaze with a sigh that could have been one of disappointment or satisfaction. Perhaps it was a mixture of both. She reached into the water for another oyster, pried it open slightly and inserted a grain of sand.

  “Kiv has one of the brightest minds in The Valley, and when she brings her intelligence to bear on important matters, her arguments can be quite compelling.”

  “So, you agree with her?”

  “I agree that the Mwertik are a terrifying force that require new kinds of thinking. But have you noticed that Kiv’s ideas aren’t new?” Caith continued seeding oysters, placing the completed ones in the wate
r to her left, taking new ones from her right.

  “Still, she’s right. The Mwertik must be stopped.”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “Give yourself time to consider it. This winter may offer insights of a kind you never expected.”

  “Caith, do you think Jared was killed because the Peace — the way we keep the Peace — has failed?”

  “I don’t know enough about the circumstances of Jared’s death. Neither do you.”

  Yet again, her mind reeled at the image of Jared carried home to her from the Red Mountains, with those grisly runes carved into his flesh. “He left to hunt a white antelope for Eli’s betrothal feast. I couldn’t persuade him to not go. After all his Alleman missions, to be ambushed and killed on a needless hunt. I’ll never understand how… why….”

  “I know, child. It’s never easy to understand when we lose someone to violence.”

  “Irrational violence, that’s what Kiv called it.”

  “So it is.”

  “She said that’s our mistake, trying to meet irrational violence with rational talk. According to her, that turns us into sheep grazing happily while our people are slaughtered.”

  “Then we must find an answer that counters the irrationality while remaining rational.”

  “So, you don’t agree with Kiv?”

  “When you’ve outlived as many crises as I have, you learn to sit back and consider all implications before rushing headlong into rash action.”

  “What if we don’t have the luxury of time, Caith?”

  “Time is all any of us have. Over the next few months and for the rest of your years, you will hear plans and possibilities from every corner of our Valley. Each will try to win you over with her strength and wisdom.”

  “But these ideas of Kiv’s… I am drawn to them, as much as I cringe at the thought. The idea of destroying the butchers who murdered Jared, who threaten our very existence.”

  “Yes, retribution is a heady temptation, but one that has no end once the spiral of violence begins. Would you so easily relinquish all that the Alleshi have fought for and forged over the centuries?”

  “No, of course, not.” Rishana decided that she was probably letting the combination of Kiv’s cleverly seductive arguments and the unresolved tensions of her Season unnerve her.

  “So, Rishana, tell me of your boy. It’s Mistral’s son, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Caith shook her head slowly, almost sadly. “Have you ever wondered why a woman would mate outwards, into a village so new to the Peace?”

  “His father is an Alleman.”

  “But there’s just so much we can teach. A man belongs first to his people, then to us. He’ll not stray far from what he learned at his mother’s breast and his father’s knee.”

  “Caith, how can you say that? You have given your life to the Alleshine Peace. Do you no longer believe in what we do here?”

  “I, more than anyone here in The Valley, have seen the changes we’ve wrought. But it’s a slow process. No one man can make the full transition for his people. It takes time… son following father, grandfather and father’s grandfather. Your boy’s people are highly skilled at what they know. Hunting and tracking. But they’re so new to the Peace, and still have a great deal to learn about the wider world. No, your boy’s mother made an unusual choice, to leave the more fully civilized Reen for the Birani. Interesting tensions in that family have formed your boy. It’s important to keep that in mind as you work with him; it’ll help you through the ordeal ahead.”

  “I will,” Rishana promised.

  “Oh, don’t be so serious all the time, child.” Grinning mischievously, Caith got up, wiped her hands and feet, and slipped on her sandals. “I know what I’ll do. I’ll keep sending surprises for your boy, things he’s never seen. Have to keep them guessing, you know.”

  Caith circled slowly, as though she could see through the walls and gaze on all that filled the multitude of shelves, pools and rooms. Then she stopped and pointed to a nearby pond. “Did you notice the beautiful sea bass the Hauks sent us? I’d wager your boy has never had anything of its like, landbound as his people are. I’ll prepare one and leave it in your coldhouse tomorrow.”

  Rishana hugged the tiny woman, “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  She waved off the young Allesha’s exuberant appreciation. “That’s why I’m here. Caretaker is what I am, all I am. But I haven’t forgotten what it’s like, though generations have passed through this Valley since my last Season.”

  For a moment, the old woman seemed lost in memories that brought an even wider smile to her face. “Now, on with you. I’ve work to do.” Caith reached up to take hold of Rishana’s chin with her bony fingers again and searched the young Allesha’s face once more. “Yes, and you’ve got work ahead of you, too.”

  After their farewell embrace, Caith started to walk away but stopped and looked back. “Remember, Rishana, I’m here, will always be here, if anything about your Season or The Valley upsets you.

  Outside, the first snow of the season was falling thickly. The paths were already covered, with drifts forming where the wind blew them. The air tasted of childhood joy when Rishana lifted her head to the sky and stuck out her tongue to capture individual flakes. Looking back behind her, she saw her own footprints in the snow, where none had been before, and was sorry she couldn’t fly or glide — anything to not mar the flawless perfection of her First Season’s first snow. She bent down for a handful of snow and, throwing it into the air, ran through it. She didn’t stop until she reached Dara’s house.

  Chapter 25

  Out of breath, but rosy cheeked and exhilarated, Rishana/Tayar shouted through Dara/Le’a’s front inner doorway, “Le’a! Boy! Come! Hurry!”

  The boy burst into the greeting room from the kitchen, with Le’a behind him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Look outside. Isn’t it beautiful? How can you stand to stay inside? It’s snowing!”

  Le’a parted the curtain to look out. “So I see.” Turning back to the young Allesha and her Winter Boy, she added, “But I’ll enjoy the beauty from here, where I can stay warm and dry.”

  “Oh, Le’a, don’t pretend you don’t love it,” Tayar teased.

  “Go ahead, both of you.” Le’a said to the boy, “If your Allesha wants to play in the snow, there’s no avoiding it.”

  Tayar grabbed the boy’s left hand, before his right arm was in his cloak. Jerked off balance, he stumbled out the door while trying to finish putting on his cloak and wave goodbye to Le’a, all at the same time.

  “Hey, give a fella a chance, will you?” He pulled his hand out of hers. “I’ll be with you in a minute, but how can I button up with you pulling at me?”

  “Oh, don’t be such an old stiff. A little snow never hurt anyone.” Giggling, Tayar stuffed a snowball down the front of his shirt and ran, before he could react.

  “Hey!” He sprinted after her, unsuccessfully dodging the soft, loosely packed snowballs that she threw. One landed squarely on his cheek, stinging his flesh with the cold, then quickly melting. He gathered snowy ammunition of his own to pelt her back. The wind carried her laughter and his, as though it were part of the flakes that flew in their faces, covered the land and coated their clothes.

  He had seen her run once before, in that beautiful leaping stride that had made her seem more part of the eladar herd than any hunter he had ever known. As graceful as she was, she was also fast. He was confident that he was faster, but she did have a head start. Skies, what a woman! He didn’t catch up until he had her cornered just inside her own gate.

  Seeing him so close, she squealed like a child and tried to avoid his grasp by moving this way and that, in spurts of speed and feints. He lunged at her, wrapping his arms around her hips, and flung her into a snow drift, where he held her down with his own body, while stuffing snow down her sweater. “Let’s see how you like it,” he growled.

&n
bsp; Her protests were swallowed by her giggles. But that didn’t stop her from filling her hands with snow and smooshing it onto his bare head. They were both laughing so hard they could hardly breathe.

  Suddenly, everything changed when one of his snow-filled hands pushed once more into her sweater and lightly grazed her bare bosom. He could feel her shiver below him, as much from the touch of his hand as from the cold against her breast. Her hands still held snow on his head, but, now, she pulled him forward, their bodies crushing his hand on her breast. It was the first time she had kissed him as a woman kisses a man, without being drawn into it by him and his impatience. He felt nothing but her body, the heat of her lips and tongue, her wet breath on his face, her taut nipple under his fingers. The snow and chill wind didn’t exist. The world did not extend any further than this moment, these few feet of earth and flesh.

  Tayar’s lips traced a trail of soft, gentle kisses, from his mouth to his ear, where her hot breath carried the whispered words “Come, meet me in the inner room.” She rolled out from under him and walked to the house.

  In his daze, he sat in the snow drift, watching her. She turned to look at him before entering the house. When she disappeared from sight, he jumped up to follow her.

  Chapter 26

  The boy went directly into his room and quickly peeled off his snow-sodden clothes, leaving them wherever they fell. Nude, he started toward the door to the inner room, but stopped. What if I’m not supposed to be naked when I enter? Skies! They never told me the rules for the inner room.

  He picked up his clothes, but they were encrusted with melting snow. So he hung them on the backs of various pieces of furniture, wiped down his body with a thick, large towel, and put on fresh underpants, trousers and shirt. Bare feet would probably be okay. Wouldn’t they? He rubbed his chin, trying to decide, and realized he needed to shave. In his rush, he nicked his face several times, which meant he had to waste even more time stanching the blood. Damn, what if she changes her mind while she’s waiting for me? But there’s nothing sexy about a bloody face. Should have left the stubble where it was.