The Raven Warrior

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The Raven Warrior Page 47

by Alice Borchardt


  “This is inspirational!” I heard my invisible companion say. “But you need no masks.”

  Instead, the dress formed itself into the same sort of armor Albe was wearing, a formfitting cover from neck to groin. I felt conversation below the level of thought, and the golden bodysuit turned the same color as my skin armor, a shimmering green.

  “Are we agreed?” came the question.

  “I believe we are,” I answered.

  “There will never be another night like this in Gorias,” Nest said, looking at me. “But dear, do you always converse with yourself?”

  “She’s talking to that thing she’s wearing,” Tuau said as he strolled into the room.

  Nest backed away from me and got behind Ilona. Tuau sidled up to Albe and brushed against her armored legs, rubbing his cheeks and the fanged sides of his mouth against the filigree.

  “Oh, that’s soooo goooood. Oh, I just love you. Ohoooo.” He rolled over on his back, paws in the air, and wallowed, rubbing his face against the shoes Talorcan had given me. His purrs sounded like a hive of swarming bees.

  Albe reached down and scratched his stomach. He batted at her arms with his forefeet, but when his claws began to slide out of their sheaths, Albe said, “Watch it! Velvet paws, or Momma will spank.”

  “Eeeeeha!” Half purr, half growl. He rolled over like lightning and began to lick his balls vigorously. His penis leaped from the sheath. “Woooowoooo!” he roared as it spurted.

  Then he was up doing shoulder dives at her legs, yelling, “Wooooo! You’re sooooo beeeeeautiful! I juuuust love you!”

  “Sit and calm down,” Albe said. “Don’t scare Nest.”

  Sill ensconced behind Ilona, dear Nest asked, “Why do you talk to your dress?”

  “Because it talks to me,” I said.

  Albe gave a crack of laughter. “Serves you right for asking. He needs a collar,” she went on, pointing to Tuau.

  “You stick out your hand to put a collar on me, you’ll pull back a stump,” the cat said.

  “Yes,” Nest said. “Only slaves wear collars. By the way, speaking of collars, how is Meth?”

  “I gave him something to help him sleep,” Ilona said. “It will make the withdrawal from the Lethe water a bit easier.” She continued, “Tuau, I can understand your feelings about collars, but let me put gold paint on your claws.”

  Tuau lifted one paw and studied his six-inch razors. “All right. If it doesn’t take too long . . . fine.”

  I resisted getting my nails painted the same gold color. Then I cleaned and examined my sword. It hadn’t come to any harm during the battle with the Fand. My tinkly friend said, “All I did was heat it. Don’t blame me if anything’s wrong with it.”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “Heating it didn’t hurt it.”

  Ilona, Albe, Nest, and Cateyrin all looked at me.

  “The dress again,” Tuau said.

  “It’s disturbing,” dear Nest said. “We can’t hear the other side of the conversation.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Tuau said. “I can. By the way, you being a Danae, I sort of expect strange events to surround you. But what is that thing? It gives me the creeps. My fur stands up every time I get near it.”

  “Then keep your distance, you lecherous little weasel,” the dress snapped.

  “Enough!” I said. “Both of you.”

  Nest, Ilona, and Cateyrin all laughed nervously. Albe studied me, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

  “It must be dark by now,” Albe said. “And considering the difficulties we had last night, how will we get to this Hall of the Tree? Last night we had to fight our way.”

  “No, no,” dear Nest said. “Tonight the Guild of Diviners will accompany us. We have guards with swords and torches to protect us.”

  “I know about the seven great families, but I have heard nothing about your guild.”

  “Well, we are a very important one, though there are a few others, such as the cloth workers and sellers and the grocers and butchers who are even more powerful and larger than we are. Most are smaller, though some few, even though small, are extremely wealthy, such as the jewelers and the perfumers. They don’t number many in personnel, but can call on large reserves of wealth, if it becomes necessary for them to do so. Many belong to more than one guild. I belong to three, but my primary membership is with the diviners. I have auxiliary membership with the grocers and the preceptors.”

  “Preceptors?” Albe asked.

  “Teachers,” Ilona said. “Knowledge is power and can be costly to acquire.”

  I hadn’t known about the guilds. I began to ask myself how many other things about this complex place hadn’t yet come to my attention.

  Albe looked uncomfortable. “Should we have paid fees for the very valuable instructions we received last night?”

  “Good God, no!” Ilona replied. “You brought my daughter back to me and greatly increased the wealth of my house. The Fand had five of the mariglobes. Meth was carrying them. I think I will keep both the boy and the dreaming jewels, if it meets with your approval. I believe after a time, I can knock some sense into Meth’s head. And the diviners serve many of the women belonging to the great families who use the jewels to venture forth in search of the novel and useful things that add to a powerful family’s wealth. They come frequently to consult us about auspicious days and hours to begin their journeys and also to ward off bad luck that sometimes attends their efforts.”

  “How many don’t come back?” I asked Nest.

  She gave me a shrewd look and answered softly, “A lot, dear. A lot don’t make it back. They’re under a great deal of pressure from their families and their husbands to undertake these little excursions very frequently. Sometimes we can warn them off before the law of averages catches up with them and sometimes we can’t. A mathematical philosopher once calculated the percentage chances of a talented diviner making a true prophecy and found our efforts were seventy-five percent effective. That’s a great deal better than chance, at least enough to show that we are worth our fees. But there is that unpleasant twenty-five percent hanging out there, ready to eventually foil our best efforts. The more often the women hazard their lives . . . well, I could do the calculations for you, but I think you can see.”

  “We can,” Albe said. “Sooner or later the pitcher will go once too often to the well.”

  Just then I heard the portcullis rattle loudly.

  “They’re here to escort us to the feast. Everyone ready?”

  Ilona and Nest left first, followed by Cateyrin. I turned to Albe. “Those jewels . . . ?”

  “I have fifteen knotted together in a strip of cloth around my waist. There were twenty-five in all. I gave five more to Ilona, and she said she will hold them for safekeeping. And she has taken the five Meth carried for herself. She asked my permission. . . . I said you wouldn’t mind. I hope that—”

  “Fine,” I said. “It behooves us to be generous.”

  I heard the portcullis rising and we hurried to join the rest. Yes, they were a considerable party. The ladies wore gray and carried lanterns, wax lights, and candles. The guards that accompanied them were Fir Blog men and women. The women wore the same simple green tunics as the men and were magnificent. They had voluptuous figures, large breasts, narrow waists and ample hips. Their arms were well shaped, but muscular and powerful. They had a very different hair pattern than the men. Their arms, legs, and faces were hairless.

  It was getting dark outside and the tunnels and dwellings within the city were filled with powerful drafts. They flattened the Fir Blog women’s tunics against their bodies and I saw the women were well furred at the groin. Some, like the men, wore chains around their necks, but many didn’t.

  “Are they free?” I asked Ilona.

  “Yes. They are bound by oath to the Diviners Guild,” Ilona said.

  The women wore swords, carried shields on one arm, and held up torches with the other hand. They completely surrounded the ladies of the g
uild. Albe and I crowded in among them and we swept along through the darkening corridors already beginning to fill with a starlit haze.

  We moved fast. Nest led the way with a Fir Blog woman striding along beside her. I quickly lost track of where we were going, so convoluted and tortuous were the passages she followed. At times we stopped to let other large gray-garbed parties pass. Each of these parties was guarded by well-armed men or women, sometimes Fir Blog, sometimes human.

  No party stopped to greet any other party. No member of any party stopped to acknowledge a single member of another party. The men and women both covered their faces with their mantles and ignored each other. Occasionally I saw women garbed as Albe and I were, and though we weren’t spoken to, we stared at each other and I got the feeling our looks were weapons and were being weighed and considered very carefully.

  At length we reached the end of a narrow hall that rose like a ramp and opened into a broad thoroughfare. A Fir Blog stood at the end of the passage. He had an enormous halberd in his hand, and he blocked our way. I recognized him. Most of the Fir Blogs had dark eyes; none I had seen had the clear gray eyes this one had. He, like the rest, had a pelt. It was just as thick and luxurious on his arms, legs, and head, but it was lighter and glinted red-gold in the torchlight. He was a magnificent specimen of his kind.

  I hadn’t gotten a very good look at him on the road into the city, but there, standing upright in the yellow torchlight, I saw he was bigger than any of the others I had seen. Indeed, he would have to be to swing the weapon he was holding. It must have weighed as much as a full-grown man; war ax, war hammer, and broad-bladed spear in one. The metal was black and in places pitted with rust, but the edges were clean, shiny and sharp. They seemed to have received the recent attention of a file.

  He and Albe studied each other. The crystal mask she wore filled in all her scars and her eyes glowed like emeralds set among diamonds. Both of their expressions were enigmatic, but I sensed that in some way, some place unknown to lesser mortals, they were alone together. He inclined his head briefly to Nest, then his gaze returned to Albe.

  “The first families have not yet entered the Hall of the Tree. We must wait until they do. Goric cannot let us pass.”

  “Goric? Is that his name?” Albe asked.

  “Yes,” dear Nest said. “He belongs to the Glastig family. They wear black.” And indeed there was a chain around the magnificent man’s neck.

  Then we heard the tramp of many feet and the seven great families began to march past us. They were a glittering company. Those in black came first. Never have I seen so many jewels. Black sets off the fire gems, the glitter of gold, the starlike shine of silver. Also, bright colors, orange, red, green blaze brightly when set off by black. The armed and armored leading men were followed by the chief women of the house. Some wore arms and carried weapons, as the men did. Others, the young and beautiful, wore, as I had seen earlier in the day, a rainbow of transparent and semitransparent silks, satins, and brocades. Older women and those who were pregnant, while sometimes magnificently dressed, covered themselves with heavy, fur-trimmed mantles. Many of the women wore neck chains like the Fir Blog did. This chilled my blood.

  “A woman belongs to her family,” Nest explained. “Unless she runs away or another family captures her. Commoner women are free, and Women of the Wager. But aristocratic women—those who can’t travel between the worlds—are only good for breeding and that is what they are used for.”

  “They flaunt their charms,” I said.

  “Oh, absolutely,” Ilona said as we watched the lower-ranking men and older women of the Glastig family pass.

  The next group wore white, and they also ornamented themselves, using white as a base to display their wealth of gold and gems.

  “There is no marriage, then?” I asked Nest.

  “Oh, no, dear. The girls are only prime breeding age for a few years, and the heads of the great families will charge very high fees for the use of them. Once they have had a few girl children, they will be free to form connections of their own.”

  “What about the boy children?” Albe asked.

  Nest shrugged. “Most are brought up as Meth was by the servants in the big households. Girls are more profitable. A girl can become a Woman of Wager, a breeder, or one of those who travels between worlds.”

  Another gaggle of lightly clad women was passing. They were gazing at us and giggling.

  “How do men rise?” I asked.

  “Woman stealing,” Ilona said.

  “Shush, dear. It isn’t spoken of openly. But a man who can gain control of several women who can make journeys between worlds will become a power in his household. Women are abducted or run away constantly. And Women of the Wager are often defeated in combat.”

  “That was why Meth became interested in Cateyrin,” Ilona said. “My grandmother was a far traveler. You saw the lake. He and I both hoped that since such traits often skip a generation, she might show some talent. Her bloodlines are good, but so far she’s shown about as much ability as the average rock.”

  “She’s young yet, dear,” Nest said. “Give her some time.”

  Black, white, now red was passing, and I didn’t catch the name Nest murmured. The torchlight flashing on the ostentatious riches near blinded me. The dense scent of perfumes filled the air now that the evening winds were dying down.

  Gold was next, and silver, then bronze, Meth’s family. I got a dark look from the leading men, but no one cared to challenge me.

  Then glass. Yes, the next group that passed seemed to be wearing glass.

  “Won’t it break?” I asked.

  “No, dear,” Nest answered. “It doesn’t seem to be that kind of glass. One of the women in the black family brought it back many years ago. It’s a wondrous material, but none know the secrets of working it outside of men in that family.”

  They were a whole spectrum of wild colors, all transparent, all worn over very abbreviated, dark underwear. Though last, the men came slowly, showing off their bodies beautifully muscled under transparent armor, red, white shot with gold threads, green, the surface etched with patterns. I was dizzy with the splendor. Albe laughed aloud with delight.

  Then they were gone, and the guilds and commoners began turning into the broad thoroughfare toward the Hall of the Tree.

  I didn’t know at the time, but a lot of this was in my honor. The struggle for primacy among the great families was so fierce, few of the ruling men could afford softer feelings. Albe and I had been talked of all over the city, and we were seen as an unparalleled opportunity for sole rule.

  The guilds were frightened. They and their members lived independent lives, free of the influence of the great families. But there was always the risk of falling into poverty and being enslaved. So the guilds have turned out to be sure we were not deprived of our rights.

  And there were others I didn’t know about then, the multiple outlaw gangs that haunted the city streets by night. Men and women who preferred the uncertain life among the parts of the city ruined, abandoned, or perhaps empty from the first. They lived on what they could pick up, bravos who fought for pay, women who sold their bodies. This was considered an honest transaction as opposed to the Circes, who seduced men into permanent slavery with magic, drugs, or both. Dealers in philters, poisons, or weapons. Fulfill your wildest dreams for a time, until you wake up with a headache or perhaps never wake up at all.

  The things Nest and Ilona told me only hinted at the depth and complexity of the undercurrents here. All of these people had been drawn tonight to the Hall of the Tree.

  We entered and began walking to the platform belonging to the Diviners Guild. I was speechless with amazement. Never in my life had I even imagined anything so large. This great hall stretched from the low, flooded forest that served as a bathing area up almost to the white towers that reared their spires against the purpling evening sky. Multiple cataracts dominated the river at the hall’s center. They were quiet, none being hi
gh enough to create the rumble and thunder of a falls. The very biggest was only about ten feet. Most were under five. The water as it poured over the shallow falls was white with hints of green. Moss and waterweed of many kinds clung to the rocks.

  Along the banks, the water was calm and clear, and it was very shallow. The bottom through the clear water formed a mosaic of symbols in many colors and odd shapes and sizes. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle with only thin, black lines delineating each one.

  I felt the being I wore on my torso react: “Sad! Beautiful! Power! Lost! Lost! Lost forever! Still speaks! But no one can read them!”

  “You?” I asked.

  “No! No!” was the answer. “Like the Fand—the thing you call the Fand—I came into being to solve specific problems. But I can remember knowing things . . . once wonderful.”

  Then it fell silent.

  The tree’s mighty branches divided the hall into platforms. The trunk grew along the shallows, and the enormous branches stretched themselves out over the river. Each platform of woven branches was a living thing, rimmed with a covering of green leaves. But the platforms were bare, as the tabletop in Ilona’s house had been, only much larger. Each platform held chairs, tables, couches, and even beds. The largest were covered with carpets. The carpets were carefully spread so as not to prevent light from reaching the tree’s leaves.

  The light collectors, the insect eyes I had seen imbedded in the ceiling at Ilona’s house and in the passageways, sprang out on long wands from the city’s buildings and arched over the platforms and the river. The light from the star gatherers was very bright, like daylight on a clear morning.

  The multicolored armor and jeweled trappings of the men glowed, glittered, and gleamed, as did the rainbow gowns of the women. I had thought the commoners would be drab in their gray gowns, but I was proved wrong. The gray robes were just that: coverings. They shed them as soon as they reached the guild platform, and I saw the women in Nest’s guild were as, or even more, flamboyant than the women belonging to the great houses.

  The young and beautiful advertised their wares. Transparent gowns of silk; jewels adorned them from head to foot. Nest wore a flame-colored gown. It was opaque, but slit up one side to above the hip. Through the slit I saw a woven gold band belonging to a pair of tights that covered her between the legs. The gown—pretty much opaque to the waist—became more transparent as it approached the neck. You could just see her breasts.

 

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