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

by Sandra Saidak

  Riyik continued. “Cooking was done by slaves, who were watched carefully, to make certain they ate nothing while they worked. When all was ready, the chief and his warriors would arrive, and then the feast would begin. The chief would have first choice, taking as much food as he wished, followed by all of his men, based on their status. After the lowest ranked warrior had eaten his fill, their wives could help themselves, usually taking food for their children. Slaves and their children got what was left.”

  Kalie scanned the faces of the crowd. She saw what she expected: anger, confusion and disbelief. At least this time, the questions all came down to a single word: why? “Why do you live like that?” came from the crowd in several variations.

  To her surprise, Danica stood and walked the short distance to where Kalie and Riyik stood, leaning heavily on her cane. Several villagers moved to help her but Danica shook them off, muttering. This brought smiles to help ease a tense situation: Danica was acting like any revered old woman of the land.

  Signaling for Kalie to translate, Danica addressed the assembly. “You ask why life is so different where I come from. Why there is cruelty and want; why people are divided. But you cannot truly understand without seeing this land for yourselves. It is a harsh place, and only the strongest people can live there. That is what we are taught since birth. But it is true, in some ways. For there will never be enough for all, and there will always be many who are not strong enough to survive. We learn to accept death at an early age.

  “There is never enough of anything in that land: water, food, grass for the animals, protection from the elements. Perhaps we were once more like you, but over time, the people became as the land: brutal, treacherous, and proud of the power to inflict pain.”

  “So why not simply leave?” shouted a girl of about twelve years. In the utter silence, Kalie heard the gasps of nomad women and children at the girl’s boldness.

  But Danica grinned, and swept her hand toward the visitor’s tents and horses. “We did, and here we are! Some of us, at least. And we thank you for offering us a new way to live.”

  The crowd laughed, but there was a nervous edge to some of it. Kalie wondered if one of their hosts would ask the logical question of how many more refugees they might expect, but for now the people here still had questions about how such a place as the land of Aahk could exist.

  “If there is little to go around, then sharing is even more important,” said the priestess. “That is a lesson we learned long ago. All is not prosperous here, either. We have known the hunger that comes when crops fail or illness strikes our animals. Yet our Goddess, and those She chooses to speak through, have taught us that cooperation and sharing are necessary at all times. And even more so when times are hard.”

  “How could anyone let a child go hungry if there is any food at all?” cried a woman.

  “What kind of man abuses the very image of the Goddess Herself?” asked an old man. “Do you treat your own mothers as Riyik and Kalie have described?”

  Kalie and Riyik looked at each other helplessly. Riyik tried to signal Larren to speak, while Kalie looked toward some of the women from the steppes. But they were not used to addressing large groups; many feared to speak at all. That Danica could do such a thing was surprising enough, and she had the highest status of anyone present.

  Then, from across the gathering came a single guttural word. “Horses.”

  Everyone turned to see a brawny, dark-haired nomad who stood at least a head taller than everyone else.

  “Horses,” Borik repeated. “When you ride a horse, the world looks different.” He fumbled for words. “You feel stronger, faster, like a god. A man feels like he can do anything from the back of a horse. And some men do bad things, even thinking they are good.”

  Kalie gaped, and Riyik had to tap her shoulder to remind her to translate. She did so, all the while wondering what was happening. She liked Borik, and knew his loyalty to Riyik was beyond question. But he rarely spoke, and she’d always thought he’d had more strength than intelligence.

  Now people were casting fearful glances at the large animals grazing peacefully near the tents of the nomads. Borik followed their gaze and let out a frightened yelp. “It’s not the horses’ fault!” he cried, looking as though he wished he’d said nothing. “But Lady Danica said we might have once been like you, and I think she’s right, and you asked what changed and so I—“ Borik began to stammer, looking around seeming much like a frightened horse himself. Kalie was overwhelmed with the desire to run over and hug him, but she had to seize the opportunity he had given her.

  “Borik is right!” she called out, pitching her voice so all could hear. “Both about how the taming of the horse changed the men, and that the horses themselves are innocent. They are powerful creatures, but like any power, they can be used for either good or ill. The outcome depends on those who control them.”

  She stopped then, as a buzz of conversation made addressing the crowd impossible. But that was fine; Kalie knew the people here needed to discuss what they had heard. Someone handed her a finely carved wooden cup, just as she realized how drained and thirsty she was. She took a large sip, expecting water. Instead, sweet, mellow apple juice slid down her throat, tasting like comfort; like the whole season of harvest she had missed. She finished it slowly, taking time to savor the taste—and the possibilities.

  When the talking wound down, the leaders of the village stood to call an end to the feast—and the discussion. Before they could a young woman asked one last question. “Why do only men ride? I got to pet one of your horses, and anyone can see their backs are designed for women! In fact, isn’t it dangerous to let your men ride?” She sent a puzzled look at the nomad women. “Won’t all that bouncing hurt their balls and make it hard to give a woman—“

  “Yes, we have much more to talk about,” called the priest. “But for now, let us show our guests to their beds, and applaud them for leaving behind such a place, and seeking a new life with us.”

  Some seemed inclined to argue, but the first drops of rain were falling, and they still needed to clean up the remnants of the feast. But the look of so many blushing warriors and grinning women was one Kalie would remember with satisfaction for the rest of her life.

  Then she found the leaders of the village staring at her with an intensity that halted all levity. “Will there be more?” asked the oldest woman. “Will others follow the path you have blazed, seeking sanctuary? Or perhaps, other things?”

  It was not possible to lie to that gaze. “I would not have led them here if I thought so,” Kalie said. “We left the tribes fighting among themselves, and I pray, too weak to threaten this land.”

  “And if any more were to come,” said Riyik, his arm coming protectively around her waist. “We would make sure they were those who are seeking shelter and offering their strength—and no one else.”

  Kalie prayed their small band was enough to make it so.

  “Come,” said the priestess, as the rain began to fall harder. “Let us sleep. We will have many days to discuss these new tidings.”

  Chapter 5

  The storm lasted three days. While many people stayed inside, especially the sick and elderly, the folk here were used to rain, and had no intention of being confined to their homes until the blizzards came, and snow sealed their doors shut. As for the nomads, this storm was little more than a shower compared to what they were used to.

  Kalie spent most of her time in the temple, dividing it between the section devoted to healing, and the large room where the council met. The morning after their arrival, Kalie and Riyik were invited to attend a meeting.

  While their best clothing was stained and travel-worn, a good night’s sleep indoors, and a hearty breakfast of hot porridge and leftovers from last night’s feast had them looking better than when they arrived the night before. They had even bathed, in a small tub of hot water, provided by their hosts, a charming elderly and childless couple, who were happy to have Brenia a
nd the two boys as well. Kalie’s brown hair was neatly braided down her back, and Riyik had trimmed his beard and bangs, while his black hair was held back in a tooled leather headband of his own making.

  The temple chamber, though large, was filled to capacity. All five council members were present, along with the priest and priestess, and about seven or eight villagers who Kalie guessed were concerned citizens. Larren—and to the couple’s surprise—Borik were also there. Larren sat amid a pile of cushions, close enough to Laisa that Kalie wasn’t sure if the midwife was there as part of the meeting or to keep an eye on Larren. Probably both, she decided.

  After invoking the blessing of the Goddess, the priestess began the meeting. “Is there anything else you wish to tell us of this strange land and people from whom you have fled?”

  Again Kalie and Riyik looked at each other, and again, Riyik spoke. “My former people are violent and do not share well. For now, we believe they are busy fighting each other. Should the day ever come when they come west with thoughts of conquest, we would like you to be prepared.”

  “Prepared?” scoffed an old woman. “To do what? Flee into the forest with what we can carry? Leave our animals and homes to these monsters, and hope they will be satisfied with that?”

  “That is one option,” said Kalie. “Another would be to learn ways to protect yourselves; to convince the beastmen that they would be happier if they went somewhere else.”

  “If they are as skilled in this thing you call war as you say,” said a man with the grace and bearing of a hunter, “we cannot possibly stand against them! We are few, and when it comes to defending ourselves,” he growled angrily. “There is a boar that has been ravaging the countryside. We have not even been able to kill him! Two good men who tried are dead.”

  “That is something we can help you with,” Borik said excitedly. “When the rain slows, the warriors of Aahk would be honored to kill this beast for you.”

  The man gazed at Borik as though trying to determine if he was serious—or perhaps if he was right in the head. Well, thought Kalie, Borik’s used to that.

  “We would appreciate your help,” the priest said smoothly. “With the boar—and perhaps with these other threats you mentioned. You said that you are looking for a new home. All of you?” He looked toward Kalie and Larren. “You two are of this land. Do you not have families somewhere?”

  “My village was destroyed last year by the raiders who took us as slaves,” said Larren. “All in my family were killed.” Riyik winced, but quickly mastered his expression.

  “I have relatives in the village of Tall Oaks,” said Kalie. “I do not plan to return there, but I would know how they fare, if there is any news.”

  Several people turned to look at a young woman of perhaps eighteen summers. Beside her sat an elderly man, with a weather-beaten face and thin wisps of gray hair tied behind his head. “This is Jaleen,” said the priest indicating the young woman. “A trader, who recently returned from a long season of travels to the south and west, with a band of other traders.”

  “This past summer,” began Jaleen, “we stopped in Tall Oaks. All was well there, although we did hear the story of traders who went east one year and never returned, and the young woman who came back injured in body and mind. That would be you, Kalie?”

  Not trusting herself to speak, Kalie nodded. She felt Riyik’s comforting hand closing around hers.

  “Were there any more recent such tales?” Larren asked. “Or stories of attacks by beastmen?”

  “Nothing like you have described here,” said Jaleen. “But we met a traveler from the south, and he told a strange tale of something that happened in a village at the foot of the great mountains at the end of the world.

  “He told us that last winter a small group of half-frozen travelers were found in the snow outside the village. Only eight could be saved, the rest had already perished. Their clothing was unfamiliar, and they spoke no language anyone knew. And the storyteller told of large strange beasts on whose backs they rode.” Jaleen stopped, her eyes widening in sudden understanding.

  “I now see he meant horses. Although, at the time, I imagined something very different.” Kalie clutched Riyik’s hand, and felt her stomach do the same to her.

  “They cared for these strangers until they regained their strength,” Jaleen continued. “But then, we were told, they behaved most rudely, especially the men. Apparently, the people put up with it for some time before the village Mother decided they would have to leave. None of us could understand that part. What could anyone do that would possibly make a village willing to send them into the snow in winter?”

  In the silence which followed, Borik gulped loudly. Kalie might have done the same, but her mouth was too dry to swallow.

  “Did they leave?” asked Larren.

  “That’s where the story became muddled. It seems that some did, and some stayed. But there was some kind of fight between the village Mother and the leader of the horsemen—and that a child was killed. Accidently, we presume.”

  Or not, thought Kalie.

  “Please remember that the man who told us this story was not present for these events,” said Jaleen. “It was something he was told—by someone else who may or may not have been there, either.”

  “Have there been any other stories of strangers from the east?” asked Riyik.

  The people in the room looked at each other, but all shook their heads.

  Laisa spoke up. “Well now all of us are here, to witness with our own eyes and ears the real men and women of the east. It is clear they are not monsters, and equally clear that they need a place to live. Perhaps we should now work on that.”

  There were many nods. “We cannot take all of you into this village,” said the priestess. “But perhaps some of you will stay? Shula tells me that your two men and the crone may not be moved for some time. Also that the healer from the east wishes to stay with us.”

  “Larren should not continue her travels until after her child is born,” Laisa added.

  “Many of the children have expressed a desire for Borik to stay,” said the priest.

  Kalie found she could still feel surprise—and even the desire to smile. “Oh?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “They like to climb on me,” Borik muttered, red faced, yet still looking pleased.

  “We will need directions to the settlements which you recommend, for those who do not stay,” Kalie addressed the council. “Which will be most of us.”

  There was further discussion, during which a mid-day meal was brought in by several older children and two women to supervise them. The meal and the meeting finished together, and the people walked out of the temple to see that a heavy mist had replaced the rain for the moment.

  Borik went to find men to help him hunt down the boar. Kalie and Riyik wandered through the village and talked.

  “Was it Yuraak, do you think?” Kalie asked.

  “The timing is right,” said Riyik. “He disappeared last winter, with his entire clan, to seek treasure in the west.” Riyik sighed. “It sounds like most of his people died before they even reached that village.”

  They watched people of both tribes taking advantage of the brief respite from the storm, to move about the common area, or from house to house. Children from the village hurried to see the horses, or ask if they could spend that night in the tents. The door of one house was flung open to let in fresh air, and Kalie saw Danica seated on a cushion, drinking tea and apparently telling her life story to a large number of village women. The women sipped their tea and passed around baskets of dried fruit and nuts, listening with interest. Varena sat beside Danica, translating.

  The door to another house opened, and Brenia walked out. She stopped to greet her brother and his wife. Kalie was about to ask Brenia what she thought of this new world, but Riyik beat her to it. “Is it everything you expected?” he asked.

  “It’s too wet to know!” Then Brenia laughed at the expressions on the c
ouple’s faces. Kalie had forgotten how lovely the older woman was when she smiled. She had smiled far too rarely in their last season in the east. “It’s beautiful,” Brenia continued, almost reverently. “The land, the people, the things they make—even the things they say! Yarik and Barak are inside, playing with a large pack of children. I wanted to go to the temple, to check on the sick, and the woman whose tent, no, house we were in said I should go. But I could stay with the children if it’s proper.”

  “The boys will be fine with whichever family they’re with,” said Kalie. “Here, children are raised by the entire village. And you should feel free to go wherever you like, Brenia. In fact, I’d like to go see how our people are doing, as well.”

  “Go ahead, both of you,” said Riyik. “I want to check on this boar hunt that’s shaping up, and practice my speech on some of the locals. Let’s just hope I don’t say anything that gets us thrown out.” Gray eyes twinkling, Riyik took his leave.

  In the temple, Kalie and Brenia found a buzz of activity. Since the place was dry and warm, and held a group of visitors who couldn’t go anywhere, several villagers had found reasons to come and visit. A group of local children were on the floor with the two recovering nomad children, teaching them how to play a game which involved moving black and white chips of stone around squares drawn on a large, flat piece of leather. Malor and Saela both sat up in bed, learning the local language, and trying, though both were a bit baffled, to understand some of the local customs.

  “Where is Agafa?” Brenia asked Shula.

  “In the First Shrine, taking instruction in the Mysteries,” the healer replied, somewhat distracted, as she took an inventory of supplies.

  At Brenia’s inquiring glance, Kalie explained. “The First Shrine is the first room built in any temple complex. Often underground, or in a cave, if the temple is built close to one. In larger settlements, there is often one for men and one for women. It’s where children are taught our faith, and where boys and girls go for their initiation into adulthood.”