The Days of the Deer
Page 13
‘Your wisdom is well known to us, brother Bor,’ the Astronomer said carefully. ‘That is why we make so bold as to beg you to explain to the representative of the Husihuilkes the reason for our decision.’
‘And we are well aware of your wisdom and your kindness, brother Zabralkán,’ said Bor, making to rise to his feet again. ‘But we also know there is no time to explain everything to everyone. We are who we are, and we do what we must do.’
‘Please remain seated, I beg you. Let us end this conversation with an explanation that will reassure us all.’
There could be no doubt that Zabralkán had some kind of authority over Bor. The warrior did not know if this was due to his age, his rank, or some other quality. Whatever it was, his polite request led to a change of heart.
‘Listen carefully to what I am about to say,’ said Bor. ‘This Council has no competence to judge disagreements or conflicts among the peoples of the Fertile Lands. No matter what they may involve, or however great they are. Would the Husihuilkes allow us to intervene in the wars that have always divided their clans? We are not here to condemn the harshness with which the Lords of the Sun treat their slaves. Or to decide whether the House now ruling them are usurpers, or if their rivals to the throne are the ones in the wrong. In the same way, nobody should act as judge in the bitter dispute we Astronomers have with some families of the Owl Clan. We have called the Council to consider something more important than our petty quarrels. Think what would happen if, instead of concerning ourselves with something that threatens every one of us in equal measure, we wasted time and effort over our differences. The strangers will not be waiting for us to reach an agreement. Their ships will soon be here, and we do not know their intentions. You have heard enough about Misáianes to know that if it is his armies who are arriving, it is likely none of us will survive to continue to fight our neighbours. What we mean by this is that if there were conflicts between the lukus and the Pastors, they should not be brought into this.’
Once again, Dulkancellin glanced over at Zabralkán in the hope he would understand. But the Astronomer stared back sternly at him, showing he agreed with every word Bor had uttered.
‘The lukus and the Pastors have never had any dispute between them; in truth they have hardly ever had any contact. But is it conceivable that the death of the island creatures is in no way related to the arrival of the ships?’ Dulkancellin was speaking as much to Cucub as to the others. ‘Remember, they were bringing the White Stone as proof.’
‘It seems to us you have not yet fully understood,’ said Zabralkán.
‘Let us try another way,’ said Bor. ‘Pay attention, Husihuilke, and answer our questions.’
At first, Dulkancellin did not fully realize what the Astronomer meant.
‘Did you see the slaughter of the lukus with your own eyes?’
‘No.’
‘Did anyone else you can trust see it?’
‘No.’
‘Can you be sure it was the Pastors who put the lukus to death?’
‘I believe so, because—’
‘Could you swear it and shed your blood to defend your view?’
‘No.’
‘Do you not think the Pastors were bound to be suspicious of two strangers they found close to the disaster?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘Were you mistreated by them? And please, don’t mention the food. We have already heard enough about that from Cucub.’
‘Not exactly mistreated, no.’
‘Were you pursued?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘At least they never caught up with you, did they?’
‘That’s true.’
‘Could not the lords of the desert have caught up with you if they so wished?’
‘Yes.’
‘Husihuilke, do you really want to put the Fertile Lands in peril by causing the failure of a Council that will decide the destiny of all those who live here? And all for a supposition you have?’
‘There is a lot of evidence—’
‘Evidence of the sort you had when you wanted to put Cucub to death? What if this was another hidden Kukul feather?’
The warrior was confused. All of a sudden it seemed that right was on the side of the Astronomers, and his own protests were like those of Wilkilén. Thinking of her made him smile, and because he did so the others thought he had accepted Bor’s argument.
‘Good! You must have many things to do, and I have business I need to attend to,’ said Cucub, thinking he could spend the rest of the night somewhere close to the market and several hot tortillas. ‘Brother Dulkancellin, it was a pleasure to accompany you, but now I must leave you.’
‘Where do you think you are going?’ asked Bor.
‘To the market,’ replied Zabralkán, to avoid Cucub launching into a lengthy explanation.
Cucub’s face fell when he heard that he would not be able to leave the House of the Stars until the end of the Great Council. This was a new order from the Astronomers; as usual, there were sound reasons for it.
‘You have seen and heard many things,’ Bor explained. ‘Much more than any of the other messengers. Then again, you are not one to hold your tongue. We cannot risk letting you leave here. Anything you said to people in Beleram would be ill-advised.’
Zabralkán asked Bor to step aside with him. The two Astronomers got up and walked over to one of the openings in the wall. They spoke to each other in a low whisper.
While the Supreme Astronomers were deliberating, Cucub was thinking of the rewards he had been hoping to receive for all he had done. To remain shut up, even in the House of the Stars, seemed like a harsh punishment to someone accustomed to roam freely, to leave a rainy village for a sunny one whenever he felt so inclined. For his part, the Husihuilke warrior was intrigued, trying to follow the body of the snake through the intricate patterns on the stone. When he and Cucub saw the Astronomers coming back over to them, they abandoned their own thoughts and wondered what they would be told to do next. Zabralkán, who was in the lead, said to Cucub:
‘Good news for you! We have decided you should pay a visit to the market in Beleram, because there is something you can do for us. People from all the nearby villages gather there. Not only do you know many of them, but most know and trust you. Go there and find out what they are saying. Ask them in particular about anything you find strange, because it’s important for us to find out about things they may not realize the signifcance of. Everything you have told us, in addition to what the lukus said and what Kupuka fears may happen, means that we want to know from our own people if they have seen any unusual signs. Go and do as we ask. Afterwards, you are to come back to the House of the Stars and stay here as long as is necessary.’
Cucub’s face reflected his changing reactions to Zabralkán’s words, and finished by showing his delight at having regained much of what he had thought was lost.
‘I will do as you command. If you agree, I will return tomorrow before the sun has reached the centre of the sky.’
None of them wanted to prolong the discussion any further. Zabralkán beat twice on a gold disc hanging from the wall. Dulkancellin and Cucub made ready to leave the observatory.
‘One last precaution,’ said Bor. ‘Tell us, Cucub: what will you say when anyone asks why you have been absent for so long?’
‘I will say ... Yes, I will answer: it seems as though no one wants to be married, be born, or to die without me and my music being present!’
‘That will sound convincing coming from you,’ Zabralkán said.
‘But looking as you do, no one will believe you have come from any kind of ceremony.’ Perhaps Bor was not so sure about the permission they had given Cucub to leave. ‘Before you go, you will be shown where to bathe and be given fresh clothes.’
Their escorts were waiting outside the observatory doors. Two of them led Cucub off down a stone corridor; the other two stood waiting for their orders concerning the Husihuilke.
The escorts, wearing short red and green tunics, showed him the way without saying a word. As they walked along, they went past many closed doors and only a few that were ajar. Dulkancellin noticed spacious rooms with servants scuttling to and fro filling vases with aromatic oils, spreading mats over the floors, or lighting candles. Despite the late hour, many people were busy in the House of the Stars, yet no sound could be heard.
Dulkancellin lost interest in the majestic luxury all around him: he found it oppressive. To calm himself he thought of Kupuka. The Earth Wizard always walked barefoot through the forest. He had no servants, and his home was a cave somewhere in the Maduinas Mountains. He carried a bag worn from use over the years, had a sense of smell that allowed him to know past and future, and eyes that could follow a trail left several winters earlier. Dulkancellin reflected that he respected no one so much as gaunt, stern-faced Kupuka, who knew the mysteries of the earth and was a friend to thorns and thistles. ‘Here I am, heading for Kush’s bread,’ the warrior heard him say.
When Dulkancellin came out of his reverie, he found himself outside an open door. Two escorts were standing on either side of it, waiting for him to enter.
17
THE MEETING OF THE GREAT COUNCIL
Tapestries hung from the high walls of the chamber where the Great Council was to be held, and nine mats were spread on the floor. That was all. Eight of the mats were in a semicircle; the other was placed further away, to one side. Each mat had a leather cushion on it.
The representatives were led in very early the next morning. They were brought in one by one, at regular intervals. Each of them was accompanied by two escorts. They were shown where they should sit. Once everyone was assembled, Bor greeted them. He wasted no words in presenting them.
‘Zabralkán, Supreme Astronomer and first among the Brotherhood of the Open Air. Molitzmós, from the land of the Lords of the Sun. This is Dulkancellin, representing the Husihuilkes. And this is Nakín, from the Owl Clan. Elek, from the offspring of the Northmen we know as the Stalkers of the Sea. Illán-che-ñe, who will speak on behalf of the Pastors. And I am Bor, Supreme Astronomer of the Zitzahay people. The empty mat is where the representative of the lukus should have sat.’
Dulkancellin peered over at the representative from the desert to see if he showed any disquiet, but Illán-che-ñe betrayed no reaction to the Astronomer’s final words.
‘Dear brothers,’ Zabralkán began. ‘It is essential you hear with your own ears and your understanding the document we have inherited. You will hear everything the Northmen told our ancestors, words which they kept in sacred books for the day when they had to be spoken once more. You will hear of the warning the Ancient Lands gave the Fertile Lands five hundred years ago, according to the sun cycles, but eight hundred and eighty-six if we follow the cycle of Magic. We must all listen, because therein lies the answer that the heavens are hiding from us. The events occurring now have their explanation in these books. We must discover it quickly, and then be able to act accordingly.’
The man sitting to one side on the ninth mat laid out nine cloths of embroidered wool on the floor. On top of them he carefully and ceremoniously placed the sacred books, their protective covers already removed. These were seven books made of bark in which was written all that the Northmen had brought with them across the ocean. News of a war that in those faraway times was being fought in the Ancient Lands against the power of Misáianes. The man began to read from the books in the order he had displayed them. His voice betrayed no emotion, almost as though he did not understand what he was reading. Yet he spoke in such harmonious phrases that after a while all his listeners could have sworn he was singing.
As Dulkancellin listened intently, he gazed round at the others.
‘“When they spoke to us, we set their words down, without adding or omitting anything. These are the sacred books we will preserve until the day of the ships. The Northmen named Misáianes, calling him the Ferocious One . . .”’
Bor and Zabralkán were wearing more majestic robes than on the previous evening, but these could not compare with the splendour of Molitzmós’s attire. The representative of the Lords of the Sun was adorned with gold and turquoise – arm-bands, necklaces, and hoops in his nose and ears – and wore long plumes on his headdress.
Dulkancellin’s spare clothes had been left behind in the desert. As a result, the Husihuilke had arrived dirty and dishevelled at the House of the Stars. In the room he had been given he had found water to bathe in, and fresh clothes to put on, similar to those the men of the Ends of the Earth usually wore.
‘“And so Death rebelled. She moulded an egg from her own saliva, then produced it from her mouth. She secreted juices and fertilized it with them. And so from this revolting substance her son was born, protected by the solitude of a forgotten mountain in the Ancient Lands.”’
Nakín, from the Owl Clan – if Dulkancellin remembered correctly, that is what Bor had called her. She was the only woman taking part in the Great Council, and looked as small as a child. Just like a child, apart from her weary-looking face. She wore her hair to one side, kept in place by several ribbons. Her bare forehead and thick eyebrows caught his attention. The Husihuilke knew that the Owl Clan lived in the Magic Time. And that it was so hard to enter or leave there that they were the only ones who could withstand the ordeal. Perhaps that was the reason why the skin beneath her eyes was so much darker than the rest.
‘“This being, born from Disobedience, brought horror with him; and horror was not merely a part of him, but his essence.”’
Never before had Dulkancellin seen a man with hair the colour of pumpkin flesh ... this was Elek, the descendant of the Northmen. As he sat, his body rocked ceaselessly backwards and forwards. Like the sea, thought Dulkancellin.
‘“Then Death saw what he was. On the third day, she grew proud of her creation and named him Misáianes. Misáianes grew, and became master over a multitude of creatures. Beings of all kinds render him homage. Because Misáianes, the son of Death, speaks words that sound like the truth . . .”’
Despite all Bor had said, the man sitting opposite him, the one called Illán-che-ñe, aroused deep-seated misgivings in Dulkancellin. He was the youngest of all those present. A young Pastor who could not have lived through many more rainy seasons than Thungür. The warrior looked away, and for the rest of the reading stared intently at the place that should have been occupied by the luku with the flowing beard.
‘“Keep the memory of this, they told us. Misáianes is the beginning of inbred pain. If we are defeated in this war, Life will fall with us. And Eternal Hatred will stride through the twilight of Creation. This much we have written of what the Northmen told us.”’
The reading from the sacred books had finished. The man on the ninth mat carefully wrapped them up again. Placing the books in the centre of the semicircle, he bowed to each of the representatives in turn, then left the room.
Zabralkán was the next to speak.
‘We shall now open the Council, conscious of the fact that this is the most important one ever to be held. There is no record of anything like it, either in living memory or in our written histories. Magic has brought you here, as representatives of the Fertile Lands, because we all share the same fate. Whatever resolution we come to, never forget it: it will have repercussions for every last fish and blade of grass. Beyond these walls, our Magic is delving into the four elements in search of unequivocal signs. There is no wind from the north that has not been questioned, no birds are migrating without carrying messages and requests, there is no movement in the sky or on land that has not been closely observed. Yet all the answers we have received are either empty or obscure. Within these walls, we have only a few days to decide. We must be capable of transforming confusion into decision. Afterwards,
we will be responsible for what happens. Brothers, we are all aware of the immensity of our task. First we wish Dulkancellin to inform us of certain facts of which not all of us are aware. Following him, each of those present is to share their news with the rest of us. Husihuilke, you may begin.’
Dulkancellin spoke of the lukus: of their meeting in the forest, the White Stone, of their dead bodies strewn around the desert hollow. He mentioned being held by the Pastors, without adding his own conjectures. Finally, he justified his escape with the only reason that everyone there would recognize as genuine: ‘We were being held too long. And we knew the Council could not wait.’ As Dulkancellin spoke, Bor nodded with satisfaction. It was clear that the Husihuilke had understood the need to silence his own fears, and avoid everything not directly related to the Council’s deliberations. Dulkancellin went on to mention Kupuka’s unexpected appearance in the midst of the desert.
‘Brother Husihuilke,’ said Molitzmós, one of the Lords of the Sun. ‘Could you explain more clearly what the person you call Kupuka saw in his visions?’
‘I will try, but it will not be very different from what I have already said. Kupuka received such visions from the strangers that he could tell it was the day and time when their ships set sail towards the Fertile Lands.’
‘There have been several indications of that,’ added Zabralkán. ‘We also fell asleep in the sun that same midday and dreamt that a path was being forged through the sea.’
‘This is valuable information,’ said Molitzmós in an encouraging tone. ‘But did Kupuka say anything about what the visitors were like?’
‘Nothing at all.’
‘You said he left in haste,’ Molitzmós insisted. ‘Do you know what Kupuka was intending to do?’
‘He told me nothing, and in all truth I am not even sure if it had anything to do with the events that have brought us here,’ said Dulkancellin. It was obvious that he was learning. ‘All that is certain is that he headed south. The rest is supposition.’