by Dave Duncan
A man had come forward to the base of the steps—probably a man, possibly a tall woman. He was swathed in a heavy robe, like a monk’s, keeping his head bent so the hood would hide his face. He was black, all black. Even the cord around his waist was black. The hand that reached out to offer a coin to the huckster wore a black glove.
The huckster dropped his satchel with a loud jangle and leaped back, colliding with the mammoth’s leg. He tried to speak and made no sound at all. His eyes bulged; his face had gone comically pale. Trong Impresario himself could not have depicted terror more convincingly.
Again the black-robed stranger tried to offer payment. Again the huckster refused it, sidling away farther, clearly determined not to let that fateful hand come close to him. With a shrug the dark monk turned to the steps and proceeded to climb slowly up to the howdah. The mahout stared down in horror as this sinister passenger made his approach.
The crowd was scattering in sullen silence, many of them running.
“Truly the gods reward those who have faith,” proclaimed the blue nun. “Come, my dear, let us see what the price of a seat is now.” She hobbled forward on her staff, urging Eleal along also, but she had taken only a couple of steps before the huckster grabbed up the satchel he had dropped, dived through under the mammoth, and took to his heels as if Zath himself were after him.
“Wait!” cried the nun, but the wind swept the word away. The black monk had taken his seat. Nine seats around him remained empty. The stairs were empty.
“You can go now if you want,” Eleal said. Her mouth was dry, but surely the man in black could not be what she suspected he was.
“We must both go, for so it is written, but we cannot go until we have paid,” Sister Ahn wailed. “And now that young man who sells the tickets has departed.”
She sounded confused. She was probably crazy. On the other hand, the rest of the world did not seem to be much saner. One man had been given a seat at no charge and no one else except Sister Ahn seemed willing to share the howdah with him, although the seats were now available for free. How to explain that miracle? In tightfisted Narsh, too! The mahout had eased himself up the mammoth’s neck until he was almost sitting on its head, as far from the solitary passenger as he could get.
“Perhaps that driver up there will negotiate a price,” Sister Ahn muttered, but at that moment he spoke to the mammoth, and the big beast rolled forward.
Eleal looked around despairingly, but the onlookers were leaving. She was alone with the old woman. No one else had been willing to ride with the man in black. What else could he be? “Was that a reaper?”
Sister Ahn was still staring after the departing mammoth, apparently at a loss. She glanced at Eleal in bleary surprise. “He is a holy one, a servant of Zath. Yes, what they call a reaper.”
Eleal’s heart turned a cartwheel, her knees wobbled violently, and something seemed to squeeze her throat shut. “I’ve never seen a reaper before,” she croaked. “In daylight?” Reapers were never discussed, or at least only in whispers—or croaks. But the mad old priest had mentioned him.
The nun chuckled. “You certainly wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark, my dear!” she said, her good humor apparently restored. “And why not in daylight? He’s only human. He must do something between sunrise and sunset.”
That was even worse! “You mean he goes around in disguise?”
“He doesn’t normally wear his habit, no. You can see the effect it has.” The old woman shook her head disapprovingly. “No one would sit beside him.”
“You would have?”
All the innumerable wrinkles around Sister Ahn’s mouth puckered up in one of her gruesome smiles, although her watery eyes gave it an incongruous sadness. She raised her long nose so she could look down it. “Why not? If he wanted to gather my soul for Zath now, he could have done so. I am sure he can run much faster than I. In the Green Scriptures, Canto 2578, it is written, “All gods play dice, but Zath’s never lose.”
The worst part of this insanity was that she had expected Eleal to accompany her. “Then why did you not go?”
“Because I had not paid, of course. We children of Irepit are not permitted to accept charity. Everything must be paid for somehow—a story, or a lesson, usually. I had offered to give lessons on the journey, but the young man refused my bid.” Her eyes were wandering even more than before, and she seemed puzzled that her companion did not understand. “When the other offers were withdrawn, I hoped he would reconsider.”
The reaper must have been present in the crowd earlier. When the ticket price became unreasonable, he had donned his robe and revealed his avocation. Eleal shivered.
“What is a reaper doing here?”
“Earning his living by day, I expect,” Sister Ahn said offhandedly, uninterested in reapers. “Gathering souls by night.”
Eleal looked up at the sky apprehensively. The big moon would be setting about now, but the sky was cloudy. Trumb had not eclipsed for at least a fortnight; he must be about due.
When the green man turns to black,
Then the reaper fills his sack.
Which did not mean he didn’t fill it other nights also.
In the distance the mammoth plodded into Narshwater, and across, and out the far side, gradually catching up with the others and dwindling into the distance. The tiny black figure sat alone with nine empty seats around him. Soon he became hard to see…Why was the reaper traveling to Sussland? Who had earned the enmity of Zath? Trumb must start eclipsing again soon. Where was the troupe? Should she go to the temple?
Worried, shivering in the icy wind, she glanced around the meadow. It seemed almost deserted without the mammoths, although there were llamas and dragons in the distance, and market stalls set up near the city gate. The other team would arrive tonight from Sussvale. The pen stood deserted, a flimsy rail fence around a patch of mud and mammoth dung. Klip Trumpeter was sitting on his pack with his head in his hands and his back to her. Apparently he had missed the reaper drama altogether!
Eleal hurried over to him at her fastest skip: clop!clip!…clop!clip!…
Apart from her, Klip was the youngest member of the troupe. He had played women’s parts last year. Now he couldn’t and he wasn’t ready for men’s, so he worked mostly as a roustabout. His pimples were as many as the stars and his opinion of himself as both man and musician was as high. Olimmiar, who was a couple of months older, considered him still only a boy. Golfren Piper would not perform with him. Why had he come? And why alone?
“Did you see who—”
He looked up. She recoiled at the pallor of his face. “What’s wrong?”
“The alpaca,” he said hoarsely.
“What about it?” She saw that Klip had lost three years somewhere since dawn. The arrogant self-styled musician was just a frightened boy now, and the change scared her.
“It was beautiful, Eleal, beautiful! All white and silky! Not a dark hair on it. Not a scratch on its hooves. Ambria paid five Joalian stars for it!”
Five! “And?”
Trumpeter’s face crumpled as if he wanted to weep. “And its insides were all rotten. Black, and foul. Horrible. The stench filled the whole temple.”
Eleal was already trembling with cold. Fear was no help. First a crazy priest, then an even crazier nun, then a reaper, and now this! She dropped her pack beside Klip and sat down, tucking her hands into her sleeves. At least the reaper had left town.
“What have we done to anger the Lady so?”
Klip’s tongue moved over his lips. His acne showed as ugly purple blemishes on his ashen cheeks. “The Lady herself, or just Ois? We don’t know. The priests say…Have you ever been to her temple?”
“No.”
“That may be it. None of us worship at the temple here, except when we are about to leave. It may not have been enough.”
Eleal felt
sick. “And?”
Klip swallowed hard. “Now we have to make amends.”
“All of us?”
“The women. Ambria tried to get Olimmiar excused, saying she was only fifteen and a maiden. The priests just said that made her service specially potent.” Trumpeter groaned and buried his face in his hands. He mumbled something that might have been, “Meaning they can charge more.”
Eleal waited…and waited. She could count the thumps of her heart. Finally she had to ask.
“Me too?”
He looked around sharply; she saw that the wind had filled his eyes with tears also. “No, no! Oh, I’m sorry, Eleal! I should have said! No, not you! Ambria asked, but the priests said no, not if the Lady has not blessed you yet and made you a woman.”
She felt a rush of relief and despised herself for it. The others’ sacrifice would lift the Lady’s anger and she would not have contributed. She did not want to, but neither did they.
“Maybe next year?” Klip smiled sourly.
“Maybe,” she said uneasily. It was certainly possible. Many girls received the Lady’s blessing at thirteen or even earlier. She was oh-so-glad it was not this year, though! “So what do we do now?”
“Go back to the hostel and wait until their service is complete.”
“You mean it may take a long time?”
“That’s up to the priests, to decide when the goddess is appeased. Days, maybe.”
Tion’s Festival began in three days!
Klip rose suddenly and lifted the two packs. Eleal reached for hers and he moved it out of her reach.
“I can manage!” she shouted.
“I want the exercise,” he said gruffly. “I’m trying to make my shoulders stronger.”
She detested people taking pity on her because of her leg, but she decided to believe him and let him take both packs. As they began to walk, she concluded Klip Trumpeter was not so bad after all.
“I’ll let you into a secret,” she said. “If you promise not to repeat it. A couple of days ago Olimmiar remarked how big and muscular you were getting. You mustn’t tell her I said so!”
He glanced down at her with a wan smile. “I won’t tell her because I don’t believe a word of it.”
“Well it’s true!”
“No it isn’t.”
Eleal sniffed and tossed her head. She had only been trying to cheer him up. The least he could have done was pretend to believe her. Just for that, she wouldn’t tell him that she had overheard Trong say he would make a good actor one day.
They trudged in silence toward the gate. Then Trumpeter said miserably, “I think it was Uthiam all the time!”
“What was?”
“The priests asked for her specially.”
“By name? They knew her name?”
“The one who played Herinia two nights ago, they said—was she there? It was all a plot, Eleal! Don’t you see? Some rich man saw her as Herinia and coveted her. He prayed to the Lady, and offered gold, and she granted his prayer! The priests had been instructed.”
“Klip!” She put a hand on his sleeve. “You mustn’t say such things about the Lady!”
He glowered at her. “I’ll say them about Ois, then, even if she is a goddess! They took Uthiam away from the others—so they could send word to the man that she was available now, see? And he could be first. Uthiam’s the sweetest, most beautiful—”
“Yes, she is. But—”
“Golfren was going crazy! He offered ninety-four stars if he could be the man to lie with her, the only man. Ninety-four!”
Ninety-four stars? That was a fortune! Eleal had long wondered why Golfren wore a money belt, which he probably thought no one except Uthiam knew about. “How could a wandering troubadour like Golfren Piper ever have collected so much money?”
“Dunno. I think he was planning to offer it to Tion in Suss to grant victory to Uthiam in the festival!”
“The priests refused?”
“They said husbands didn’t count. I thought he was going to hit them!”
“Oh, Klip! Poor Golfren!”
Poor Uthiam!
Suddenly Trumpeter stopped and threw down one of the packs, so he could wipe his nose on his sleeve. He glared at Eleal with red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll see you back at the hostel!”
She nodded sadly and limped away among the market stalls and the people.
10
AS SHE REACHED THE CLUSTER OF TRADERS’ STALLS BY the gate, Eleal realized that she was very hungry. She felt she should not be thinking of personal comfort when her friends were making so terrible a penance, but she had not eaten since the previous evening—and she no longer had Rilepass to look forward to. She wandered in among the fleece-wrapped servants and housewives, inspecting the wares. Mostly the offerings were of vegetables, for these were farmers’ stalls. Eventually a savory scent drew her and she discovered a booth dispensing meat pies.
T’lin had given her money, of course, but she wanted to keep that. Many women were crowding around that table, competing for the trader’s attention. Eleal moved in close at one end, and knelt as if to tie a lace. A moment later, as a customer clinked coins in payment, a small hand made a deft grab between two bulky customers. A pie vanished from the display.
Gleefully clutching her prize close to her, Eleal rose and walked away. When she reached a safe distance, she produced her loot and simultaneously bumped into a tiny woman in blue.
“This is kind of you, my child,” Sister Ahn said, taking the pie in her twisted fingers. “It is long since I last ate. My, this smells delicious!” Her eyes were faded, watery, and filmed by age. They were also quite free of guile.
After a brief pang of annoyance, Eleal decided to be magnanimous. To feed this batty old crone would be meritorious. The Maiden would notice and might intercede with the Lady to turn aside her anger. And there were lots more pies where that one had come from.
“Oh, you are welcome, Sister! You really ought to be taking better care of yourself. A good llama fleece coat is what you need. Do you have somewhere warm to sleep?”
“I cannot accept charity,” the nun mumbled, gazing longingly at the pie she held. “It is written, Everything has its price.”
“Payment is not necessary. One of my business ventures proved unexpectedly profitable this morning, so I can easily afford it.”
The old woman still appeared frozen in her skimpy wool habit, and still unaware of the fact. The tip of her nose was turning white. “Here is what we shall do,” she said, looking around vaguely, as if in search of a table and chairs. “We shall share this and I shall explain to you about the reaper. Take care of it for a moment.” She returned the booty while she settled herself on the grass—an awkward procedure for which she leaned on her staff with one hand and adjusted the sword with the other, so as not to cut herself. Eleal wondered why the wind did not blow her over.
“Well, I do have pressing business engagements,” she said, dropping to the ground. “But I admit I should like to know about the reaper and why you journey to Suss and why you carry a sword and several other things.”
Sister Ahn took the pie in her grotesquely warped fingers, broke it in half, murmuring a grace, and then offered Eleal the larger piece. It was rich and juicy and delicious, still faintly warm from the oven.
“So you are Eleal!” she said, chewing vigorously. “Younger than I expected. What trade do you follow?”
“Eleal Singer. Actually I am more of an actor now, but we have so many Actors in the troupe that it seemed wise—”
The nun frowned. “What do you act?”
“Both tragedy and comedy. And I sing in—”
“What,” Sister Ahn demanded, removing a piece of gristle from the mouth, “is the difference?”
Carefully not showing how shocked she was by the old woman’s ignorance, Eleal explained.
“Comedies are just about people. Tragedies have gods in them. People too, of—”
“Mmph! You portray goddesses?”
“Sometimes. I mean, I shall when I am tall enough.”
“Then you must learn how goddesses think. You will travel to the festival tomorrow?”
Eleal told of the cockerel and the alpaca. When she started to explain what the other women in the troupe were doing, she felt nauseated and stopped eating.
Sister Ahn continued to work on the pie with her few teeth. The skin of her cheeks was like crepe, with all the underlying flesh underneath wasted away. A wisp of pure white hair had escaped from under her headcloth.
“Their penance may last a long time,” she mumbled with her mouth full, “and the festival is soon. You will have to go without them.”
“I can’t! I mustn’t!”
The nun waved a hand dismissively. “It has been foreseen that you will. You can’t fight destiny. History awaits you.”
“I am not going to leave Narsh without my friends! I must stand by them in their hour of distress.”
The nun pursed her already shriveled lips. “Your religious education has been woefully neglected. Why ‘distress’?”
“It seems so horrible!”
“Oh it is. That is why it is valuable. Have you not been taught that everything has a purpose? The purpose of life is to learn obedience to the gods.”
“Of course.” Eleal forced herself to take another bite of pie. She did not want to think about what was happening in the Lady’s temple. Before she could ask about the sword and the reaper instead, the lecture resumed.
“The gods made us to serve them.” Sister Ahn wiped gravy from her chin with a gnarled hand. “In this world we learn to do their will. When we have completed our apprenticeship, Zath gathers us to their judgment, to serve in whatever manner we have shown ourselves best fit for. In the Red Scriptures, the Book of Eemeth, it is written, Among the heavens and the constellations thereof shall they be set, lighting the world as the lesser gods.”
