by Shannah Jay
Cheral nodded. 'Of course.' She knew how it had upset Herra to lose their Sister. 'How shall we escape from the deleff, though?' she asked. 'That's the thing that worries me most.'
'Me, too. We must just take one step at a time and trust in our Brother to guide us. First we have to escape from Quedras, who sees us as an asset to the community.'
'Which we are!'
'Yes, but we've more than paid them back for their help now. And I don't think we'll have too much trouble escaping from Quedras, not if we take him by surprise. It's the step after that which worries me -
escaping from the deleff. They're still watching us, you know, Cheral. I see their outlines sometimes against the sky, very faintly.'
'The SS'Habi haven't contacted us. Are you sure about the deleff?'
'Very sure. We're definitely being watched.'
'Mmm. Well, if we head north, perhaps their power will weaken and then we'll be able to return to the Twelve Claims.'
'Yes. That's my hope, too. And - you ought to know, Cheral, in case anything happens to me, or in case we get separated, that when we leave, we go first to Beldrian and Setheron. That we must do before we attempt anything else.'
Cheral caught her breath. 'For the children? The ones in the prophecy?' Her voice was tinged with awe. No one who had been present that day could ever forget Herra making her major prophecy, the prophecy that had given hope back to the whole Sisterhood. And who could forget the two children born that night, whose lives had been saved by the Sisterhood? Davred had still been on the satellite then and had warned his Sisters below that Those of the Serpent were trying to kill the two babies. 'You mean that it's time to fetch the children?' Cheral asked, when Herra did not answer.
Herra's eyes were focused on invisible horizons. 'Of course.'
'Will they still be there?'
'I hope so. They're too important to the Quest. Our Brother won't have let them come to any harm. The girl is too young to have been used by Those of the Serpent on the altars. Even they usually leave little girls alone until they’re capable of bearing children.'
'You've - you've had news of the children?'
'Not since we left Temple Tenebrak, obviously, but before that, yes, regularly. Both actual news and visions. I know exactly what the two look like. The boy's name is Petur, Cheral. He's tall, with dark hair, and in appearance he resembles his uncle, Sen-Sether, rather too closely for comfort. The God's mark is on his hip. You cannot mistake that. The girl's name is Taslyn. She's red-haired. Tall, too, virtually the same height as Petur, and also with the God's mark on her hip. If anything happens to me, those children must be found and brought up by the Kindred - by whoever is left. I know I can rely on you for that.'
She proceeded to give Cheral full instructions for finding the children and ended by saying thoughtfully.
'Should we be separated, you are to go and find the girl in Beldrian, and I shall try to get the boy, who is in Setheron.'
Cheral nodded. Surely, surely, Herra must have had some presentiment of what was to come, if she was giving these instructions? 'Have you any idea where we're heading for eventually?'
'I think Katia's old home would make a good rallying point. Those of the Serpent have never gained a foothold there. I'll tell the others about it once we've escaped from Quedras.'
'Is that safe?'
'What alternative do we have? We could so easily be separated. We must know how to find one another again.'
'And Fiana - if she ever escapes? How will she find us?'
'That's why I must speak to Quequere. I must leave her a message.'
Someone came into the cave as she was speaking and Cheral nodded briskly at Herra. 'Yes, that's fine. And I'll see to that other matter later.'
* * *
A long, fretful week later, Quedras announced that they would all leave the caverns the next day, save for a few guards, who would stay to look after the emergency stores until food became available in the lower valleys and the risk of raids diminished.
'We'll camp in South Vale this year.' Then he added, avoiding Herra's eyes, 'I think it might be a good idea for us to start cultivating some grain for ourselves, and South Vale would be a good place to do that. It'll be easier than searching for wild grains every year.'
There was a murmur of surprise from the community at this unprecedented statement. It was left to Querilla to voice their displeasure. 'Plant grain!' she exclaimed, striding forward to confront her partner. 'Have you run mad, Quedras? What do you think we are - mud lizards?'
He scowled. 'I've not rrun mad and I'm not stupid. That's why I'm leader here. If I say something, then it means I've rreally thought it out and it makes good sense.'
'It makes no sense to me to plant grain which we'll then have to defend against Rimrascals, when the stuff grows wild everywhere for the picking.'
'There was only just enough last autumn,' he said flatly. 'Ask Cheral. She'll tell you how low the reserves are. Now that there are more people in our community, we have to produce more food.'
'There's plenty of food around us. You should stop taking in the Rimrascals who attack us.' She jerked her head towards Herra. 'That woman has softened your brain, Quedras! All we need to do is make sure that we get enough food. It doesn't matter about other people.'
'That's exactly what I am doing, making sure we get enough food,' he said with what was, for him, immense patience. 'I've been discussing it with Cheral. She's explained how to grow things. You choose the best seeds every year, pick them out by hand at first, and you gradually get better grains growing with heavier crops.'
'Huh! That's all right for those who like grubbing in the mud,' Querilla reiterated. 'It's not for me! I prefer to hunt for my food. And so do most of the other members of our community!'
'The hunters will still be hunting, you muzzy-brained dolt! We'll still need meat - though it might be a good idea to catch a few more of the mountain nerids and tame them!' He spoke through gritted teeth. 'The only difference is that the hunters will have to help the rest of the community to clear the ground and break up the soil this year before we start planting. And, as you reminded us, they'll also need to guard the grain while it ripens. That should provide even you with enough fights! The children and the old folk can look after it the rest of the time.'
'Clear the ground! Break up the soil! What do you think I am?' She struck a defiant pose. 'I won't do it, I tell you! I'm a warrior and a hunter, and prrroud of it!'
He stiffened and moved a step away from her. 'Be carreful, my frriend. It sounds to me as if you're challenging my decision. That might be verry dangerous - even for you!'
There was a sudden hush in the cavern.
Querilla glared at him, hand on dagger, chest heaving with emotion. All eyes were upon the two of them.
Herra sighed in exasperation and stepped forward. She snapped her fingers and Quedras and Querilla froze in their tracks. An Oooh of surprise whispered round the cavern. 'I am tired of your foolish quarrelling, my friends. Very - tired - indeed!' Her voice was soft, but deadly, and it carried clearly to every corner. 'It is wasted energy that could be better spent.'
Quedras's eyes rolled frantically, but he was unable to speak. People were glancing at each other uneasily, while edging away from Herra and the two protagonists.
' You will stop quarrelling,' said Herra, even more softly. ' From now on, you will work together in harmony for the good of the whole community. ' She swung round to glare at the various squads, and people bumped into each other as they took involuntary steps backwards. 'Does anyone else wish to protest against Quedras's wise decision? If so, you had better speak out now!'
No one could afterwards explain just why it was that one small woman should inspire the whole community with such awe, but so it was. No one made the slightest move to protest.
'It is,' declared Herra, placing her hands on the shoulders of the two motionless figures, but speaking to the whole community, 'a tribute to Quedras's leadership that you p
eople are now able to start growing your own crops. Only very primitive people do not plant crops. And you are not primitive!'
A murmur ran round the cavern.
'Think about it! You already grow your own berries and vegetables. You'll soon be setting the runners in the sunpatches. What's the difference between that and growing grain?'
Eyes slid away from hers as she slowly turned and stared around the cave. People shuffled uncomfortably and Katia had to hide a smile, for it was so like the old days when Herra had occasionally grown annoyed with the novices or the temple helpers. The Elder Sister never raised her voice, yet it carried to every corner. She never showed anger - at most, a weary patience - but somehow people shrank from her displeasure, as they were doing quite visibly now.
'As I was saying,' Herra continued, 'no one else could have wrought so much progress so rapidly here. I commend you for that, Quedras! You have earned your leadership.' She snapped her fingers again and released the two of them from her Compulsion, adding, 'But it is a pity that I had to still you to make you realise how well you're doing. Querilla . . . '
Like the others, Querilla took an involuntary step backwards, looking at Herra as if she were a sand-scorpion poised to strike.
Herra was controlling her urge to smile only with difficulty and, after one quick glance to the side, she refrained from meeting Katia's eyes. Davred was grinning openly, as were Jonner and Benjan. Cheral was radiating righteous approval, nodding every now and then to show she agreed with what the Elder Sister was saying. The Novice Mistress's sense of humour was not strongly developed.
'Querilla,' Herra continued sternly, 'you are a fighter of great renown, a credit to Those of Quequere, but now that you're carrying Quedras's child, you will have to abate these tantrums. '
Querilla gasped loudly. 'Child? Are you - are you quite sure of that, Herra? Are you rreally sure?'
'I'm sure.'
'But I've been barren for years!'
'And are no longer barren.'
'And I've had false alarms before. It's early days yet to talk of a child. You can't be sure!'
'I'm quite, quite sure. Don't forget that I'm a Healer. I know such things.'
Querilla took a deep breath and beamed at everyone. 'Hey, then!' she said loudly. 'Hey, then!' She swaggered over to Quedras and flung her arms round him, planting a smacking kiss on his cheek. This brought a few faint cheers from the fascinated audience, but she ignored them. 'Hey, how about that, Queddie? You fancy being a father, eh? Eh?'
Quedras pounded her shoulders. 'Hey, that's grreat, Quer! You hear that, everyone? She's going to have our baby.' He kissed her even more loudly than she had kissed him, and gave her another hefty buffet. 'A son eh?'
'Or a daughter! One who can fight like her mother.'
He waved a hand airily. 'Whichever. Hey, then! A kid of ours should keep things lively around here. You ever hear the tales of the things I used to do when I was a lad?'
'Yes, but tell me again! This time, I'm interested.' The cavern rang with laughter, which Quedras joined in happily, then he turned to shout at Herra, though she was only a couple of paces away, 'Crrazy woman, that's the best news I've heard since old Questrin fell off a rock and broke his neck!'
'Is it, indeed?' Herra didn’t ask why it was good that someone had broken his neck, for she wasn’t sure whether she could keep her laughter under control for much longer. She kept her eyes away from Katia and Davred, who were standing beside her, each cuddling a baby and chuckling with the rest.
'You just make sure she carries it to term, eh, crrazy woman?' Quedras said.
Now Herra did allow herself to chuckle aloud. 'What's to make sure of? Querilla's as strong as a breeding nerid. She won't need my help - or Quall's. With a body like that, she'll bear you many children, my friend, many fine healthy children. This I know.'
Quedras sighed with pleasure. 'Children,' he said. 'Many fine healthy children. Sons, as well as daughters?'
There were tears in his fierce eyes.
'Sons and daughters, both,' agreed Herra. 'I promise you. This I know truly.'
Querilla patted her still-flat belly and stared down at it in wonderment. 'You hear that, Queddie? Strong as a breeding nerid, she said. And she should know, eh? She's a Healer, after all. But,' she frowned and did some rapid calculations on her fingers, 'I'll not be much use for hunting come high summer,' she winked at Herra,
'so you'd better put me in charge of looking after those crrazy crrops of yours. I don't mind if I grub in the mud while I'm carrying, though I'm going back to hunting as soon as it's weaned. So where exactly d'you think we should do this planting, Queddie?'
Arm in arm, they strolled off outside to look down into South Vale and quibble amicably about exactly where they should start breaking the ground. Behind them, the cavern settled down into its usual quiet bustle.
Quall came over to Herra. 'That was well done.'
'They only needed a nudge.'
'You're intending to leave, soon, aren't you?'
She raised her eyebrows. 'Did I say that?'
'No, you sidestepped the question pretty neatly with Quedras. But don't waste your guile on me! I've seen the bundles Cheral's been collecting.' He drew patterns in the dust with the toe of his boot, avoiding her eyes.
'You'll need more waterskins, by the way.'
'Oh?'
'Yes.'
She put one hand on his arm. 'Have you said anything to Quedras yet about us going, Quall?'
'No.'
'Please don't, then.'
'It won't make any difference, Herra. He won't let you go. Even if you manage to leave the camp, he'll come after you - and however many times you stop him in his tracks, like you did just now, he'll start following you again as soon as he recovers. Stubbornest rrascal I've ever met, is Quedras.'
'We shall just have to see what happens, then, Quall. I can be quite stubborn, too. But before I make any real plans, I must speak to Quequere.'
A boom of thunder rang out as she spoke and everyone froze where they stood. The thunder was followed by a bell tolling once and people relaxed again, relief visible in their faces.
'What does that signal mean?' Herra asked Quall.
'Minor Summons only. It means Quequere has adjusted to the new body - and has done so remarkably quickly, by the way - and wishes to speak to Quedras.' He pointed a finger. 'See! There he goes!'
'He answers the summons promptly.'
'We live here by Quequere's grace; we're Quequere's people. Before Quequere gave us the Quoin, there was no community, only roving bands of Rimrascals struggling to survive the winters. Should we not keep faith with such a one, after such a gift?' He spoke softly, but fervently.
'Everyone should keep faith with those who have helped them,' Herra agreed. She frowned at the figure toiling up the stone steps that circled the steep walls of the Quoin. 'I wish to speak to Quequere myself. I think I'll follow Quedras.'
'He'll be angry.'
'It's Quequere's anger I fear, not Quedras's. Benjan!'
The large man put down a knife he was polishing and threaded his way across the busy cavern. 'Yes, Elder Sister.' He always seemed to know by instinct whether she was to be treated formally, as the Elder Sister, or informally, as his Kinswoman, Herra.
'I need to speak to Fiana. I'm going up into the Quoin. See that no one follows me.'
He nodded and placed himself at the foot of the steps, meeting the frowns of the nearby squads with his usual impassive expression. Although there were audible mutters of 'Shouldn't be allowed!' and 'Quedras will throw a fit!' none of them cared to challenge Benjan, who had beaten everyone in every form of combat practice. Besides, he was a good lad, old Benjan. He'd shared his own skills most generously and not been too proud to learn from them, in his turn, about how and what to hunt in this barren region.
Quedras, plodding slowly up the stairs, didn’t become aware that he was being followed until he’d almost reached the doors of the audience chamber. He
spun round to confront the intruder. 'I might have known it'd be you, crrazy woman! Who else would dare to come here uninvited? Go back! I'm the only one who is allowed to answer Quequere's Summons.'
'I need to speak to Quequere most desperately. Let Quequere tell me to go away if it's not allowed.'
'I'll ask for an audience for you - but go and wait below.'
'It's your right to do the asking. You're the leader of the community and I don't dispute that, but now that I'm here, I'll wait for Quequere's answer outside the audience chamber. I think that'll be much more convenient for us all.'
He folded his arms and prepared to argue.
She touched his chest and said quietly. 'It's Quequere's decision, not yours, Quedras. Please go and request an audience for me. Go inside! Now! '
Growling with annoyance, he found that his body turned and his feet stamped their way into the audience chamber before he could say another word. The doors swung open to let him enter, then closed firmly behind him. Herra sat down patiently on a convenient rock.
She didn’t have long to wait. Quedras poked his head out of the door. 'You're to come in.' His voice was surly and he was still scowling.
She followed him into the audience chamber, and let him lead her to the front, almost to the large piece of polished white rock. There was no sign of Fiana.
'What - ' she began.
'Shhh!'
He laid his hands on the gold-threaded surface of the rock and said in a hushed voice, 'Quequere, I have brought the crrazy- the Elder Sister.'
' Thank you, Quedras. The disembodied voice bore no resemblance to Fiana's and seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, like a distant echo on a still night. ' You may leave us now. Please wait outside the audience chamber. '
Quedras threw an angry glance at Herra, but obeyed the order without arguing.
' It would, perhaps, be easier if you were to sit on the edge of my plinth, Herra, ' the voice said. ' It's easier to communicate with someone who is touching it. ' A chuckle followed. ' And I shall not be offended about which part of your anatomy is touching me. '
