Keepers of the Ancient Wisdom (Kalie's Journey Book 3)

by Sandra Saidak

  This feeling intensified when the party reached the temple. Inside, everything was as Kalie remembered: a warm and comforting collection of rooms, with the walls painted in soothing shades of green and blue. Heat and light were provided by the fire that burned before the simple altar, adorned only by a statue of the Goddess in her form as crone. There was the sharp, clean smell of moss and herbs, neatly stacked in bundles and jars on shelves along the walls, and, most important to Kalie, the sight of at least six beds made up with linen sheets—all of them empty.

  “I was afraid the temple would be too small to accommodate everyone,” she told Shula. “For a village this size—“

  “We serve several isolated farms, and a nearby fishing village,” Shula explained, as she got everyone settled, and directed her staff, which consisted of two other healers and a young apprentice. One of the sick children seemed to be on the mend, but the other had gotten much worse. He and Agafa were examined first, while the little girl, sitting on her mother’s lap, insisted she felt fine and wanted to play with the children who lived here. Malor, the injured warrior, insisted the others be treated first, although Kalie could see he was burning with fever.

  “The midwife will be here soon,” Andar, a young male healer, told Larren. “You should lie down until she gets here.” Larren agreed a little too quickly for Kalie’s comfort, who wondered just how difficult the journey had been on her friend. Unlike the nomad women, Larren was not used to grueling travel while pregnant.

  While Kalie acted as translator, an older woman with long gray hair tied back in a neat bun bustled into the room. No one needed to tell her this was the midwife, as the woman took in the entire room with bright dark eyes that missed nothing. She went to Larren without a word and began to speak with her quietly. Kalie faltered in her translation of Shula’s questions to Agafa and one hand strayed to her belly, as she briefly considered requesting a word with the midwife when she was done with Larren.

  Self-consciously, Kalie forced her hand to her side, and focused on the work at hand. There was much of it. In addition to four patients in serious need of attention, two other nomads entered the temple: a warrior who had been stoically ignoring bad stomach pain for the past three days and a fragile slave girl of about thirteen, who did not wish to trouble anyone, but thought she was having a miscarriage.

  The midwife helped Larren to move to a stool, as both the bed and her assistance with translation were needed. While Larren helped with the man, Kalie knelt beside Saela. “Why did you tell no one you were pregnant?” she asked, as the midwife gently examined her.

  “I was afraid you would not take me with you if you knew the truth,” Saela whimpered.

  “But at least three other women in our band are pregnant!” said Kalie. “They would have helped you; all of us would have.”

  “But you might have asked who the father was.” Saela cried out then, and after that, all her focus was on the pain, and the tiny, unformed creature her body fought to expel. Kalie assisted the midwife until it was over. Once Saela had been given a soothing draught, and fallen into a peaceful sleep, Kalie and the midwife had a chance to introduce themselves.

  “I am Laisa,” said the midwife.

  “I am Kalie. Will she be all right?” Kalie nodded toward Saela.

  “I believe so. Although she was far too young—not to mention undernourished—for a baby. Whoever these people to the east are, I can see why so many chose to move west. Did she give you any explanation for why she hid her pregnancy? What frightened her just now?”

  “Something about the baby’s father.”

  “What does that mean?” Laisa was clearly baffled.

  Kalie sighed. She wanted to enjoy being home, not explain the hell she had just left to someone who had no way of comprehending it. “My guess is that the baby’s father was Saela’s own father. Either that or a man who told her he’d kill her if she told anyone he’d raped her.”

  Laisa stared at Kalie for at least thirty heartbeats. Then she looked at Larren, as if expecting a reasonable explanation for Kalie’s outrageous statements. “I think it was probably her father,” Larren said quietly. “They always blame the daughter in those cases. Usually, the girl is killed.”

  Kalie wanted to hug Larren for the simple act of supporting her statement. Eight years ago, when Kalie had returned from her first time as a captive of the beastmen, few had believed her tales of what she had seen, and no one wanted to hear such horrible stories; surely, they thought, it was nothing more than the ranting of a deranged woman. This time, Kalie was not alone.

  “Perhaps we should see what is happening outside,” Laisa said at last. “Everything seems under control in here.”

  Kalie looked around, and saw that Sarika had joined the healers, competently assisting in their work, asking questions with her limited command of the language she had studied during the journey, and looking like she never wanted to leave. Checking the row of beds, Kalie could see that everyone was now sleeping or resting comfortably. The healers were busy cleaning up or grinding herbs for more medicines. Kalie smiled wearily. “May the Goddess bless you all,” she said.

  Outside, the sun was setting in a brilliant display of color among the storm clouds. In the cleared space in the center of the village, a feast was taking shape. A large bonfire was laid in the center of the clearing, waiting to be lit. In front of each house, a smaller fire burned. Each one contained some kind of food roasting above the flames, frying on rocks beside them, or baking underneath. Kalie stopped in the middle and looked around, taking it all in.

  The smells were intoxicating, as was the pleasure the local people were taking in showing their guests around. Children were running everywhere, and in the blur, Kalie could not easily distinguish native from foreigner. She took a moment to marvel at that fact. Then Varena and Katya detached themselves from a group of local girls and ran up to her.

  “Oh, mother, you were right!” Varena began ecstatically. “Everything you told me—“

  “Did you know about this?” Katya cried, waving her hand to encompass the village. Like Saela, Katya had been a terrified wraith of a slave girl when she left the tribe of Aahk. Now for the first time Kalie had known her, Katya spoke louder than a whisper—and had even interrupted someone.

  “Did you know?” the girl repeated. “About how the people here live? How women just speak when they feel like it, and go where they want? I haven’t seen a man hit a woman since we got here! I haven’t seen anyone hit anyone, not even a child, but it can’t be like that all the time, can it? And look how men and women both are cooking! And they think it’s all normal. I asked if the men who cooked were slaves, since no men are slaves back in the tribes, and no one knew what I meant!”

  Varena put a restraining hand on Katya’s shoulder, as if afraid the girl would leap across one of the fires. “Kalie has been telling us about it since she came to our clan more than a year ago,” the young woman said in slow, measured syllables. But even Varena could not repress a grin as she looked around.

  “I know she told us,” said Katya, reclaiming some of her dignity. “But Kalie’s a storyteller. It’s what she does. This…” Katya trailed off; trying to grasp the words she wanted.

  “What did you expect?” Kalie was genuinely curious. “You risked your life to run away with me. Why take such a risk if you didn’t believe my stories were true?”

  “Well,” the small, dark-haired girl rubbed her chin with one hand and seemed to be thinking very hard. “Someplace better, of course. Food, and short winters, and people who were kinder than back home. But I still thought they’d be people. I mean, people are the same everywhere, right? Some are good and some are bad. But there’s always a few who run everything, and who take whatever they want and push everyone else around. I didn’t think that would be different anywhere.”

  “Why did you think I would bring you here if that’s how it was?” asked Kalie.

  “I just thought the people who owned everything here
were your kin, and you’d make sure they sold me to someone kind. Or that you would keep me as your handmaid, like Varena.

  At that, Varena bristled and was about to speak, when several village elders approached them, with Riyik and some of his men following at a respectful distance. “We would like to begin,” the priestess told Kalie. “We are blessed with dry weather for a little longer. It is good that we can all share a meal together outside, where everyone can hear your news and your stories.”

  “And we have many questions for you as well,” Kalie said. “But for now, your generosity and hospitality are more than enough.”

  “We thank you as well for the gift of so many fine sheep and goats,” said the priest, gesturing to where several animals were turning on spits.

  Riyik and Kalie grinned at each other, while the elders, with the help of musicians playing flutes and drums, called the people together.

  “Some things truly are the same everywhere,” said Riyik. “Those sheep and goats were as tough and mangy as any animals I’ve ever seen. Yet that priest thanked us exactly as a clan chief would have when presented with the same gift.”

  Kalie smiled. “Of all the things for our two peoples to have in common, I’m happy with good manners. And you may be surprised. Our cooks take tough meat as a special challenge. I can’t wait to see what they’ve come up with.”

  “I can’t wait to taste it,” grumbled Borik.

  At that moment, the priest and priestess together lit the bonfire.

  “May the Goddess bless this feast, as we welcome our visitors from the east,” said the priestess. “May she spread her bounty over all who come to the fire.”

  “May we join together in harmony, this night and all others,” spoke the priest. “Let us begin.”

  Chapter 4

  People began moving among the hearths, taking what appealed to them. Most —both local and foreign—had their own plates, cups and eating knives. Those who did not were given them by their hosts. Kalie had been relieved to learn that the harvest had indeed been good, and the meal reflected it. There were many varieties of bread, and even more kinds of meat. Vegetables such as beets, leeks, mushrooms and cabbage made up dishes that were strange to the visitors, but brought tears to Kalie’s eyes as the taste brought back memories. Apples, pears and nuts lay piled in softly glowing mounds. There had even been time to turn some of them into the luscious pastries Kalie had often longed for during her captivity.

  Kalie and Riyik were seated on woven mats beside the village elders. At first they spoke only of the harvest, and of the region around Green Bower. Kalie learned that they had returned to her homeland far to the north of where she had left it. Her home village of Tall Oaks was many days south, and a bit to the west. If they were to walk due west for about six days, they would reach the Black Sea at the northern tip of its eastern shore.

  “I had hoped to reach Gaea before the winter,” said Kalie. “It’s the only city I know of large enough to take in this many people.” She glanced around at the nearly seventy men, women and children she had brought out of the steppes. They were scattered among their hosts, all talking eagerly, different languages hardly a barrier—except among the children, where it was no barrier at all.

  A white haired woman, probably the oldest person in the village, shook her head. “Gaea is on the southern shore of the Great Water,” she said, using the local name for the same body of water. “You will not make it there before winter.”

  “But there are many large settlements along the eastern shores, just south and east of here,” said a portly, middle-aged man. “You can easily reach them in a few days.”

  “That would allow us to break our people into smaller groups,” said Riyik, managing the local tongue well. “Less of a drain on resources.”

  The elders nodded, some with evident relief that the visitors did not plan to stay in Green Bower for the winter. Kalie had to smile. Had she not been prepared to lead this group away in a few days, these people would have felt obligated to keep them until spring, whatever the cost. If Kalie needed any further proof she was home, this was it.

  Shula arrived from the temple, somewhat out of breath, and carrying a plate of food. The elders made room for her to sit beside Kalie. “I must return to the temple soon,” she said. “But I did not want to miss your news.”

  That was a cue if Kalie ever heard one, but the priestess spoke first. “The others will not leave the temple?”

  “Andar will likely stay all evening. Food has been brought to him. Galla and Josan have already come to the feast, and Josan has returned to the temple. Sarika is getting food now, but I think she will return as well.” Shula turned back to Kalie. “She is a most remarkable healer. Ignorant of much knowledge which I take for granted, yet knowing things no one here has even thought of! I look forward to learning all I can from her, and sharing what I know. From what you told us in Riverford last year, I did not expect to find skilled and dedicated healers among these people.”

  Kalie was taken aback. After a moment’s thought she said, “I have learned much about the people I once named beastmen. Many of them still deserve the name. But many others do not.” I only hope I brought the right ones to my home.

  “There is always much that different tribes can learn from each other,” said the priestess.

  “How are the sick?” Kalie asked.

  “The children will both be fine,” said Shula. “I believe the man with the cut will recover in a few days. The poison was in his blood by the time he reached us, but he is strong, and already responding to the medicine. The young woman, Saela, too, will recover, with proper food and rest.”

  “And Garak?” Riyik asked.

  Shula nodded around a mouthful of food. “Yes, the one with stomach pains. We had hoped it was only bad meat, but now fear it may be more serious. That is why Andar will not be leaving the temple tonight. He believes that Garak suffers from a swelling of an organ within his belly. I, too, have seen such things before. If it continues to swell, it must be removed before it bursts and kills him.”

  Riyik set his place down on the ground before him, and had to swallow his last bite several times. “Can such a thing be done?” he whispered, his face white.

  Shula set down the goat’s rib she had been stripping with her teeth. She put her left hand, the hand she had not been eating with, gently on Riyik’s arm, and met his gaze. “Andar has done so before, and the patient lived. Your friend could not be in better hands.”

  Kalie remembered, a long time ago, or maybe just the summer before last, when she had counseled a man with a similar condition at a temple of healing far across the world. She hoped Garak would not require such extreme measures. But if he did, she prayed he would live, and that all the people who had come from the tribe of Aahk would take it as a sign of what was possible in the Land of the Goddess.

  Only one person had not been mentioned. “Agafa?” Kalie whispered, fearing the answer.

  Shula’s face became carefully neutral. “You must have known when you brought her here that there would be little we could do.” Her words, although not what Kalie wanted to hear, were laced with compassion.

  “She did not want to die a slave,” Kalie said, blinking back tears. “She wanted to see this world, and know it was real.”

  “And that much she has done. She will do more, Kalie, especially if she is not forced to travel any further. If Agafa stays with us, we can help her manage her pain without dulling her senses, and she can enjoy all the village of Green Bower has to offer.”

  “I had hoped to show her more of our world. Temples and cities and the Great Water. But…if she stays here, could she live through the winter?”

  Shula thought her words over carefully. “It is possible. I cannot promise.”

  Kalie felt a rush of joy that Agafa might live to see the dancing that would happen at the Spring Festival; hold the first new flowers in her hands before she closed her eyes for the last time.

  Sensing her emo
tions, the elders waited a few more moments, but the feast was winding down, and there was much to be done before the rain began.

  “If you and your friends might tell us something of this land from which you came?” the priest began carefully. “And what brought you here?”

  “Of course.” Kalie rose to her feet. A moment later, Riyik did as well.

  Silence spread in ripples throughout the gathering. When she had everyone’s attention, Kalie spoke. “Thank you, people of Green Bower, for your kindness and generosity. I was born in a place not far from here, and I understand that such things are normal; to be expected. But I have brought with me people from a distant land, where the ways are very different.”

  Her words provoked a storm of questions. Things people wanted to know, but had been prevented by good manners from asking, were now shouted from the crowd. They wanted words like “war” and “slave” explained, and reasons for the frightening scars they had seen on many people, and how tattoos were made.

  Maybe I should start with tattoos, thought Kalie. It’s the only thing I’m not already sick to death of explaining.

  “Perhaps I should speak this time?” Riyik asked quietly. “If you could translate?”

  Kalie nodded, relieved. While Riyik had a good command of her language, he was much more articulate in his own, and this was not the time for mistakes.

  Riyik began by holding up his plate and cup. “This feast which you provided for strangers is the best example I can think of to show how different our two peoples are.” His voice travelled well, compelling in its exotic sound. Kalie’s voice matched his for strength, bringing Riyik’s words to the farthest edge of the gathering.

  “In the tribe from which I come, people also gathered beneath the sky to enjoy great feasts. But in those feasts, no strangers would have been welcomed—only the members of our own tribe.”