Beyond the indicated door was a long corridor that led deep into the mountainside. The first room on the right was filled with wooden crates. From their markings and Elnor’s obvious excitement as she unpacked them, Rishana gathered it must be the new shipment from beyond the Peace borders that Peren had mentioned with such fervor the other day.
A rugged individualist originally from the Merton Mountains, Elnor didn’t fit Rishana’s image of a scholar. Too much energy flowed from her compact frame, even when she sat contemplating a thorny passage in a book. Yet Elnor was fascinated by the process of unearthing lost knowledge, and devoted all her off Seasons to assisting Peren. If Elnor were here, Peren probably wouldn’t be far off.
Elnor reached into one of the crates and pulled out a small volume. Holding it gingerly with gloved hands, she opened the ancient book slowly and cautiously, and, while perusing the brittle yellowing pages, walked quickly to the next room. That was where Rishana found Peren/Savah. Elnor quickly withdrew back to the crates and whatever other hidden treasures they might hold.
“Jinet,” Savah said with no preliminary greeting.
Falling back on the names of their old, long-established relationship, returning to who they had always been for each other, regardless of how life around them had changed, was part of the comfort of being with Savah.
Today, Savah was so engrossed by the small volume in her hand that she might not have even noticed what name she had pulled out of her memory. “Look what Elnor just brought me! This book may predate the Great Chaos.” She donned linen gloves to protect the ancient paper from the oils on her hands, before leafing through it. “The language… it’s so intricate… I recognize some word roots, but… I must get Elnor to work translating it. Do you realize what wealth we have here?” She gestured to the shelves of books she had already catalogued. “And so many more in the crates in the other room. We must bring this region into the Peace. Learn what they know. Save what they have, but have forgotten.”
“Savah.”
The sound of Jinet’s voice, full of concern, pulled the old Allesha’s attention away from her beloved books. “But that isn’t why you’re here, is it? Let us go where we can be quiet and undisturbed.”
Only a few tiers deeper inside the mountain, they settled into a small study that Savah had made her own. It had an icebox, a rack of clothes, even a sofa that had obviously been slept on more often than sat upon.
“Savah, don’t tell me you’ve moved into this place.”
“Well, not exactly moved in, but the days do speed by, and I have been known to forget to sleep or eat sometimes.”
“You mustn’t strain yourself.”
“Yes, well, Hester has already taken me to task. But there are so many books that we have yet to understand, and I have so little time left.”
This wasn’t what she had come to discuss, wasn’t something she wanted to consider, not when so few remained among those who had framed her life, anchoring and supporting her. “Savah, please…”
“Don’t worry, dear, I don’t plan on dying any time in the near future.” Savah shrugged away what could neither be foretold nor forestalled. “Anyway, Hester made me promise to sleep at least six hours every day, and I told her I would if I could stay here as much as I wish. So, this is my home away from home. Cozy, isn’t it? I rather like sleeping under the mountain, surrounded by all this knowledge.”
“But Savah, what of sunshine, of sharing the company of your sisters?”
“Oh, I don’t stay here every night. But when I work late, this comfortable sofa is far more inviting than the winter air.” Savah’s sigh seemed to deflate her, revealing a bone-deep fatigue. “Now, what is your question?”
“Actually, it’s about a book, The Traveler’s Tales. My Winter Boy found it in his room among those you brought.”
“Very good!” Savah nodded. “When I organized the books in his room, I put that one on the bedside table, so he would grab it first.”
“Tell me about the author, Savah. Is she of the tribe of Wanderers?”
“Well, she comes from the same source.” Savah’s back became straighter, her eyes crinkled, and she seemed to tap into a reserve of inner energy now that the subject had returned to books and history. “The Great Chaos destroyed an entire civilization. People became wanderers, with no homes of their own. When the Alleshi brought Peace to our land, the tribe of Wanderers remained nomadic, preferring their new ways to their old ones. Why do you ask?”
“Alleen. The First One. Didn’t she end her life in this Valley?”
“Yes, but why?… Oh, I see, you’ve read The Empty Land.”
“Yes, and, in it, she dies in the desert.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Savah, please. Tell me, don’t educate me. Not now. I don’t have the time today.”
“Did you notice that The Empty Land is the first story in that book in which the Traveler mentions names — not only hers, but that of her teacher?”
“Yes.”
“Because of all the names she had been given and had taken over the years of her travels, those two were rooted so deeply in her heart that nothing could burn them out of her. In the end, when she finally found her home—”
“Her home? Our Valley?” Jinet followed Savah’s train of thought to its only logical conclusion. “She took the name of the one person she could not lose inside herself?”
“Yes, my dear.”
“And the Traveler is our First One?” Jinet nodded. “That explains quite a bit.”
“Doesn’t it, though? Then you noticed the other thing about that book that is so important — the pattern of the stories. She does keep tempo, doesn’t she?” Savah smiled, waiting for her companion to see what was so apparent to her scholarly mind.
“In what way do you mean? The rhythm of her language is musical.”
“True, but what of the order of the stories, their pattern? They are familiar, aren’t they? Think, Jinet. It’s a pattern that concerned you on our last visit.”
“The stages? The stages of growth in a boy in Season!” Jinet’s breath caught in her throat.
“Calm, my dear, there’s nothing here to upset you. Nothing to make you feel—”
“Controlled?”
“Really?”
“How is it possible that the very book my First Boy chooses to read to me is one that predicts what he will do and need over the next couple of months? A book that was written hundreds of years ago, when The Valley was new and empty, and only one Allesha — Alleen — existed. It’s not right. He’s a special boy.”
“Of course he is.”
“But you’re saying he is like every other boy the Alleshi have ever taught, and that this book would work into all their lessons.”
“Because it is a very special book, written by a wise woman who knew that no boy is like another, no woman like another, and yet we are all the same at the core. Though we may react differently to the same lessons, a good story will reach everyone, teaching what is needed.”
“If it’s such an important book, why did you never suggest I read it to prepare myself?”
“Ah, because I wouldn’t have wanted to deny you the pleasure of discovering it with your First Boy.”
“Savah, are you disappointed in me?”
“Never! Why would you ask such a question?”
“Because I do ask questions. I can’t blindly accept all that we are, the power we have, and the assumptions that have been made for us and by us.”
“Why do you think I love my books so much? Because they make me question presumed ‘truths.’ Please continue questioning. Then you will not only be Dara’s successor, but maybe a little bit of me, too, will live on in you.”
“Oh, Savah.” She reached over to hug her friend and mentor. “Thank you.”
“And thank you, dear Jinet.” Savah returned the embrace, then shooed Jinet to sit down again. “Now, tell me, have you talked to your boy about the Mwertik yet?”
The young woman was flustered by the unexpected change of subject. “No, Savah, we’ve just begun.”
“It’s never too soon for some things, dear. We have difficult times ahead. You won’t want your boy to be unprepared.”
“Savah, have you heard something I should know?”
Savah hesitated only briefly. “Nothing new. But if he has the kind of power within him that his father does, then you’ll need to be even more diligent in forming and directing it.”
“I don’t understand. I’m following the stages.”
“The stages are a path, not the destination. Think about your boy, the kind of Alleman he must become and the world he will be facing. He needs to learn about the Mwertik.” Savah paused. “At least, the little we know. If you are uncertain how to proceed, discuss it with Dara.”
Thoughts of Dara and the Mwertik carried the young Allesha to another question, one she hadn’t planned on asking. “Savah, what is it between Dara and Kiv?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I ran into her the other day.”
“Kiv?” Savah walked over to the icebox, poured two glasses of juice and handed one to Jinet. “Tell me,” she said.
“Actually, I don’t think it was as accidental as she wanted me to believe.” Jinet put the glass down untouched. “Savah, what do you think of Kiv’s ideas?”
“Which ones? She has so many.”
“About the Mwertik. About how we should respond to the threat they pose against the very fabric of our Peace.”
“Don’t get caught up with Kiv, not now during your first Season, when you can’t afford distractions.” Savah sighed as she sat down, plumped a cushion behind her back, then settled into it. “Kiv and I were once quite close. Did you know that I was her mentor for her First Season? She came to us young, though not as young as you. And not as a widow, but after her husband had broken the marriage. You should have seen her. Brilliant, dynamic, passionate about the Peace, caring so deeply about helping strengthen it through her boys.”
“What happened between her and Dara?”
“The rift developed gradually. They had such different ways of working with their boys. Did she say anything about yours?”
“She offered to help me with him. Suggested he might be too much for me to handle. I don’t know if I should have been insulted or pleased with the offer of friendship.”
“Neither. Kiv is not part of your Season and shouldn’t have anything to do with you — or your Winter Boy.”
“Why?”
“Please, Jinet, you have trusted me all your adult life. Trust me on this. Engaging in Kiv’s debates and arguments might be an interesting exercise for you, but not when you’re in Season.”
“What about trusting me? There’s something you’re not telling me. Is it about Kiv and Dara?”
“Jinet, I have buried myself here in this mountain to seek the answers we need. I’m only at the beginning. Please allow me a bit more time to decipher what I have found before I share it.”
“I don’t have the luxury of time, Savah. Kiv is asking pertinent questions; Dara is the mentor of my current Season. I need to understand.”
“Yes, Jinet — Rishana — you must understand. And you will. But you’ve only this one short Season for your Winter Boy. When it is over, you can concern yourself with other matters. For now, focus only on the boy.” The older woman stood and patted the young Allesha’s arm. “Now, I have books to study, and you have a boy in Season.”
Chapter 36
Le’a/Dara had known from the beginning that Ayne would have to meet and evaluate the boy. But now that the time had come, she caught herself fidgeting, twisting the napkin on her lap. After all these years, why did Ayne still have the ability to instill fear and uncertainty in Dara? Or was it that Dara had learned to care too deeply for this boy and his Allesha, and she worried that Ayne would sense it and rightly rebuke her?
Not that Ayne displayed anything other than calm courtesy, sitting at Dara’s kitchen table, sharing a pot of tea. But this was the woman who could bring the most unruly Council of Alleshi and Allemen to order simply by standing quietly and looking around a room. She was seldom outvoted or overridden in Council or private conversation.
The boy was late, but such changes in schedule often occurred in the early Season. It gave the two women time to talk.
“Kiv is definitely up to something,” Ayne said.
“Kiv is always up to something.” At least with Ayne, Dara didn’t have to conceal her distaste about anything to do with Kiv.
“No, Dara, this is more than her usual complaining and agitating.”
Dara’s tea remained unconsumed, something to keep her hands busy rather than to be ingested. “What have you heard?”
“That’s the problem. I haven’t heard anything.” Ayne paused to nibble on a cookie. “I fear we shouldn’t have allowed her to be so thoroughly trounced and humiliated in Council last summer.”
“But her proposals were ridiculous.”
“No, not ridiculous, but dangerous and highly seductive. However, the way it was handled silenced her too thoroughly, so we have no way of knowing what she is now thinking or planning. I believe she may be privately sounding out some of our sisters, trying to gather them to her side.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know anything definite. It’s a feeling I get when I come upon her talking with another.”
“We must find out—” Dara was startled by the sound of voices in her greeting room. Dov had finally arrived, but the woman with him wasn’t Rishana. “Kiv!? What’s she doing here? And with the boy!”
Ayne ducked into the mudroom and grabbed Dara’s coat from a hook. “Keep her in the greeting room,” she whispered. “I’ll take the back path.”
Dara nodded while she quickly put their cups and plates into the icebox. Before opening the door to the greeting room, she took a single deep breath to compose herself and push her fear down into her stomach, where Kiv couldn’t see it.
Dara greeted Kiv in ritual embrace, as was appropriate in the presence of an outsider. “Welcome, Sister. Would you care to freshen up in my room? I’m sure the boy would excuse us.”
“Thank you, Sister, but the boy has something to say to you first.”
The two women looked at the boy, who squared his shoulders and attempted to appear unconcerned. However, as both Alleshi continued to stare at him, his pose slipped, and he erupted into words to fill the tense silence.
“I really messed up this time.” He spoke directly to his mentor, trying to avoid Kiv’s glare. “Well, you weren’t here, so I went for a walk, and I guess I ended up somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. She,” he nodded toward Kiv, without looking at her, “found me and I’m afraid I might have broken one of those rules you told me about. I know I wasn’t supposed to walk off on my own, but she said that my Allesha could decide to send me away because of it.” He shook his head. “Damn, I’m sorry, but why weren’t you here?”
“Was that an apology?” Kiv asked, in a cutting manner that made her opinion clear.
Before he could reply, Dara answered, “Yes, it is an apology of sorts — the best apology he is capable of giving at present.”
Kiv narrowed her eyes at Dara, but wasn’t about to contradict another Allesha in front of the boy.
“Thank you for bringing his trespass to my attention.” Sure that Ayne had disappeared onto the paths beyond the barn by now, Dara took Kiv’s elbow and gently guided her through the vestibule to the outer door, “I will tell his Allesha of it.”
“He must be properly disciplined,” Kiv insisted. “Coddling boys will not help us when the Mwertik come.”
Dara glanced back through the vestibule’s inner door at the boy who paced the far end of the greeting room. She spoke softly, so he wouldn’t hear them. “I don’t see the Mwertik at our mountain passes, but if they ever do come, let’s hope our strength is rooted within each individual and in the deep bonds that we forge here with our
Allemen. Otherwise, what use is discipline?” She formed her face into a smile she did not feel. “Thank you, Kiv, for bringing the boy back to me.” Dara closed the outer door as quickly as she could without it appearing that she was shutting the door on one of her own sisters.
As soon as she returned to the greeting room, the boy rushed to her, hugging her tightly. “Oh, thank you, dear, sweet, wonderful Le’a.”
She gave Dov a stern look and pushed him away. “Tayar has an important decision to make.”
“I thought you… I mean when you sent that mean old woman away…”
“No, Dov, I may be your mentor, but Tayar is your Allesha. Let us go to her, now.”
“She isn’t home. That’s why that woman—”
“Call her Allesha. It is her title, which she has earned.”
“Well, that Allesha brought me here because Tayar wasn’t home.”
“Then we will leave a note for her, and return here to await her signal.”
“Le’a, will Tayar send me away?”
“That is not my decision.”
“I know; you’re not my Allesha. She…” he pointed to the door to indicate the woman who had just left, “said the same. But Le’a, you know Tayar, and you know the rules.”
“However, I still don’t quite know what happened, do I?”
“Yeah, it’s like I told you.”
“If that’s true, then we have nothing to discuss until Tayar makes her decision. But if something else happened, something that made you leave here, even though I had left the outer door open for you when I went out on a quick errand. If there were some reason you willfully fled the safety of my home to brave the uncertainty of The Valley, to break rules you don’t understand fully but knew were in place, then we would still have something to talk about before returning you to Tayar for her judgment.”
The Winter Boy Page 21
