Durak left the forge soon after the Winter Festival. Janak had kept him on even after it was clear that the young man had no aptitude for the craft, and was only there because he wanted gold. When the smith caught Durak stealing a pouch of small nuggets, Janak ordered him gone. Durak seemed inclined to argue, but Garm, who had developed both a love for the shaping of metals and a great respect for his teacher, hurriedly found Borik, who escorted Durak from the forge, and then went to inform Riyik of the situation.
Kalie heard about all this after the fact, for which everyone was grateful. By the time she did, Durak, sporting a black eye and a slight limp, was already moved in with Borik and Zanal. Kalie was in no mood for Durak’s apologies, but she calmed down considerably after speaking with Janak and Nara.
“I hope you know I don’t blame you for Durak’s actions, Kalie,” Janak said.
“Nor for any actions but your own,” said Nara. “Which are of course, above reproach,” she added when she saw Kalie’s expression. “Surely you have not been away so long you have forgotten our basic beliefs?”
They were sipping tea in a one of the smaller temples, where the Goddess in her form as mother presided.
“I brought them here. And I…” she struggled, having to rely on a word from the language of the horsemen. “I vouched for them.”
“They are not the first strangers to join our community,” said Janak. “We are familiar with the process of mixing in new ideas and new ways. It’s why most of us choose to live here, and not a small village.”
“But no one, I think, are as different as those I brought,” said Kalie.
“Most of them are doing fine,” said Nara. “They have found joy here, and they bring it to others. Although I must admit, the local women are benefiting far more than them men!” She laughed. “Those men, except for your partner, Kalie, act like they haven’t seen a woman in a full turn of seasons! It’s been the most exciting winter most can remember—on that score, at least. Borik, especially. That man has stamina to match his size, and every woman here wants to find out what he can do.”
“I hope he hasn’t…disappointed anyone,” Kalie said, thinking of the damage a man of his size—even a gentle giant like Borik—could do if he wasn’t careful. And self-control around women was not something he would have learned on the steppes.
“I haven’t heard any complaints.” The old priestess grinned. “But then, I haven’t tried him myself. Yet.”
“I was surprised that it was the men who were so eager,” said Janak. “From what you’ve said about those bizarre rules of theirs that bind women so much, I would have thought they would be the ones wishing to try as many men as possible. Yet Tarella and Darva each stay with one man, and Brenia and Varena choose to sleep alone.”
“Though I think many men hope to be the first one Varena chooses when she is ready,” said Nara.
“I think the same might be said of Brenia,” Janak said—a little wistfully, to Kalie’s ears. “But most are stepping back, out of respect for Martel.”
Kalie really wanted to ask about that, but instead asked, “Have there been any…misunderstandings? Men who do not give pleasure, or fail to understand what ‘no’ means?”
“You would have definitely heard if that was the case,” said Nara. “Stop worrying, Kalie. You brought the right people, and taught them well about our ways.”
Kalie relaxed into her cushion, and savored her next sip of tea. Stop worrying; it would be a fine thing, if only she knew how.
“The council has discussed the issue of preparing for possible unpleasantness with some of the less advanced horsemen,” Nara continued. “There is some dissent. Many of the elders feel that preparing for violence will, in itself, cause it to happen. But they have agreed to let those who are interested learn to use weapons and ride the horses. We will have a meeting with the entire town soon.”
Janak snorted. “It’s not as if half the boys and girls aren’t already learning those things—and many of the adults as well. We will have some holdouts—but most are in favor of being prepared. I wouldn’t worry about some of these newcomers not learning a trade, Kalie. I think they will more than earn their keep by sharing these skills that they alone are masters of.”
As winter slowly marched toward spring, Kalie spent less time worrying, and more time focused on the changes happening in her body. Riyik seemed to enjoy them as well, and was the most considerate of husbands, rubbing her feet, and bringing home delicacies that the other women insisted would help with the pregnancy. While he spent long hours instructing the people of the town in fighting and riding, Kalie’s only real work was collecting food from the storage facilities—aided my Martel, who refused to let her carry anything heavy—and cooking meals for her family.
She spent most of her free time with other pregnant woman, and mothers of various ages and experience. Everyone was willing to offer advice, or lend a sympathetic ear when Kalie felt sick, or wondered where her energy had gone. Brenia was a frequent visitor, often bringing all three of her children, as Darva had yet to reclaim Myla, and of course, she always brought food.
Winter was also a time for two or three families to share an evening meal together, and Kalie always offered her stories for entertainment. Varena was in high demand for the fine singing voice she had only recently discovered she had. She sang the songs of her homeland, blended with the new ones she was learning, while she played the stringed instrument called a lyre, to a growing audience.
“Not so different from winter where you grew up, is it?” Kalie asked Riyik one night as they returned from an evening with a large family of musicians, who insisted on keeping Varena for the night.
“Except that those gatherings were usually just for men is your unspoken message, dearest?” he responded with a twinkle in his grey eyes.
“I guess I just never get tired of dwelling on the differences,” Kalie sighed.
Kalie and her family shared many meals with their closest neighbors. Minda’s baby was due in early spring, and she had no plans to start her own household, or involve anyone else in the child’s life.
Kalie finally asked her about it one day while they were alone in Minda’s house, weaving baskets. “Did something happen to your baby’s father? Or between you and him?”
“I don’t know who the father is,” Minda said, finishing a basket and biting off the extra length of straw. “I didn’t want to know, so I made sure to share the Goddess’s Gift with many men.”
“Why don’t you want to know?”
Minda shrugged. “I like things simple. I’ve always wanted children; I just never wanted a life-mate. I knew I’d be happy living in my parents’ house, raising one baby, then another, until they have children of their own. My grandfather is thrilled that he’s going to live to see his first great-grandchild. Helping raise it might help him live longer.”
Kalie couldn’t argue with that, and had no wish to. She just got up to stretch her back, and basked in the warm glow of the love and freedom that surrounded her.
One night, as a blizzard raged outside—the last one of the season, Kalie hoped—she and Riyik snuggled close in their bed of rich furs: sheepskin, reindeer, and wolf. Yarik and Varena were asleep in the next room, and a fire of fragrant apple wood branches warmed the cozy little house. Kalie was reminded of a dream she had on her last night in the steppes; the night, she hoped, her child had been conceived.
“Do you miss your old life?” she asked Riyik.
“Never,” he said, holding her tighter.
“Do you wonder how the others who came with us are doing in the villages and towns where we left them?”
“That I do. In the spring, I hope to ride a circuit and visit them. There may be news of the tribes, further east. I don’t think it’s a question of if they come; I think it’s a question of when.”
Kalie shivered and pulled Riyik closer. “So you plan to make sure that everyone we brought here is doing his job to prepare a defense?”
&n
bsp; “Yes,” said Riyik. “This town is built on a hill. When the river runs high, it can only be reached by that bridge. This might be the most defensible place we’ve yet seen.”
“The bridge is strong enough to hold horses and riders,” Kalie said sadly.
“But only one at a time. I walked around the entire town yesterday. I think we can make it so that the bridge is truly the only way in. With enough good archers, we can pick them off as they attempt to cross, until they grow tired and leave, or run out of men.”
“Then they will move to an easier target,” said Kalie.
“That is our next problem to solve,” said Riyik. His confidence was contagious, and Kalie soon fell into a peaceful sleep. Now it was Riyik who stayed awake worrying.
That blizzard was indeed the last one of winter, and soon the signs of an earth reborn were everywhere. A new energy filled the people, including Kalie. As her pregnancy progressed, she was soon past the time of morning sickness and afternoon naps. The first time she felt the baby move was on a morning when they were both still in bed, so Riyik got to feel it, too. They both walked around with silly grins all day.
“I’m going to Green Bower to visit Larren and the others as soon as the paths are clear,” she told Brenia and Varena one day.
“The village closest to the steppes?” Brenia asked doubtfully. “That doesn’t seem safe, especially in your condition. If an attack comes, it will likely be there.”
“All the more reason to make sure they’re prepared.” Kalie found herself unreasonably angry at her friend for reminding her that the world in which she had grown up, a world in which a pregnant woman had no fear of walking for ten days across the land, no longer existed.
“Please, Kalie, let the men do that,” Brenia said, her thread tangling, then breaking, from the spindle she had become so adept at using.
“I want to go before I’m too far along to travel. I want to see Larren’s baby, and maybe even see Agafa, if she still lives. And I want to see how the others are doing. The warriors won’t leave the steppes until late spring at the soonest, and then they still have to get here.”
“Which they can do more quickly on horseback, than you can on foot,” said Varena.
Kalie stopped arguing, but no one was foolish enough to believe she had changed her mind. But first the rains needed to wash the snow away, and then the rains themselves had to stop. And of course, before anyone went anywhere, there would be the Spring Festival.
To prepare, people cleaned and aired out their houses, and outdoor hearths were rebuilt and laid with kindling. Children made a game of slipping in the mud, and seeing who could go home the dirtiest. As in every year, they only played that game once, remembering, as they did every year after the fact, the fun really wasn’t worth the scolding they received afterwards. New clothes were made, and each home’s garden was prepared for planting, along with the few community fields and gardens.
A few days before the festival, a group of travelers arrived. Kalie saw them crossing the bridge over the now flooded river as she left her garden, nearly as muddy as the children. The men were riding the horses on a circuit around the town, testing the best of the boys and girls who had been learning all winter how to leap on and off a moving horse. This added to the excitement, and at the same time made sure everyone had a turn to ride without tiring the horses.
“See!” she told Brenia. “There are women and children in that group, and it’s not even fully spring yet. If they can travel now, surely I can!” As Kalie looked closer, she saw that the group was made up only of women; four of them.
Brenia frowned, and Kalie didn’t think it was because of what she had said. Her gaze was fixed on the new arrivals. “There’s something wrong,” was all she said.
“What?” Kalie stared but couldn’t see anything behind possible tiredness in the gait and expressions of the party as they left the bridge and walked the short distance to the town.
“I think I’ll head for the hot springs and have a quick bath,” Kalie said. “I don’t want to greet visitors while I’m covered in mud.” She thought of the dress she had just finished making: blue wool, which fell in pleats from the collar, to provide plenty of room for her expanding body. I’ll wear that, she thought.
As she started on the path to the bathing place, one of the riders, a young boy, and probably the least experienced, also caught sight of the travelers, and distracted, missed the moment he was supposed to jump down, throwing the girl who was supposed to jump up off balance. She yelped as they collided, and the horse, shied, barely avoiding a collision with the horse behind him.
And then no one was thinking of the horses because the woman in the lead of the party let out the most terrifying scream Kalie had ever heard.
Chapter 12
Her bath forgotten, Kalie joined the others who had heard the scream and were running towards the travelers. One of them looked like she was ready to turn and run back across the bridge. Others were urging calm, and sending pleading looks toward the people of Stonebridge.
Nara was there, along with Orin and several healers. Of the four arrivals, two were visibly upset, one was trying to calm them and the forth—the one Kalie had thought was a child—stood frozen, her face blank in a way Kalie remembered all too well.
“Whatever the trouble,” said Nara, “you are safe here. Please come with us to the temple, and tell us what is going on.”
The woman in the lead of the column was a giant of a woman, adding to the impression that some of the others were children. She had pretty, pale blonde hair, which was cut oddly short. She ignored Nara and stared at the group of riders, who were now clustered, along with their horses, some distance away. “They’re here,” she said in a voice devoid of emotion.
“Horses,” whispered Kalie. “Beastmen,” she said in a louder voice. “She must have heard the stories! Raids, outcast bands…” Kalie was looking around, wondering who best could talk to this woman, when suddenly a tall presence was looming over her.
“I didn’t hear stories!” the woman nearly spat into Kalie’s face. “I met them personally.” With one hand, she pulled open the front of her tunic, showing a disfigured breast. It took Kalie only a moment to realize the damage had been done by human teeth. With the other hand, she brandished a long spear. “I am Otera, and I made a vow to meet them again—and greet them with this!”
“Some of them wish to greet you as well,” said Kalie. “But not as they once did. Those living here now are here to help. To make sure what you have suffered will never—“
“Yes, I have heard!” Otera snapped. “A story has made the rounds of a group of brave women who went to take battle to the enemy. But instead, they brought the enemy to us—and blazed a trail from the barren east to the heart of our rich and fertile lands, inviting every last monster from that land to come and help himself!”
There was a moment of shocked silence. Then Orin spoke. “I remember you, Otera. Though you’ve been gone for nearly three years, do you not still see those you love gathered here? Is this how you wish to greet them? Have you nothing to offer your people but anger? Nothing for our new friends but insults?”
That silenced Otera—for a moment. One of the women with her quickly spoke up. “I am Lanara, a healer from the village of Waterfall. I can explain some of—“
“Lanara is here to act as guardian, and make sure the rest of us don’t disgrace ourselves too much,” snapped Otera.
“We clearly have much to discuss,” said Nara. “Let us find you lodgings in the temple of travelers, and hear each other’s news.”
“We have no need for lodgings!” snapped Otera. “We will go to my home!”
“Gods, no,” moaned Brenia.
“What?” asked Kalie. “It can’t be your house she means. It was built for a young couple who died.”
“Were you once a merchant?” Brenia asked Otera. The tall woman’s head snapped back at the sound of Brenia’s accent.
“Oh, Goddess,” moaned
Kalie. “Borik, Zanal, and Durak. They’re living in her house. Just what we need.”
“We fixed it up,” Zanal said, coming forward with a conciliatory smile. “Come and see what we’ve done with the place—“
Otera raised her spear and advanced on Zanal, who wisely backed up. Nara, joined by most of the priesthood and several of the oldest men and women of the town moved to stand between Otera and Zanal. “If you truly mean to harm someone with that spear, it will be one of us,” said Nara. “Is that what you want?”
Otera lowered her spear, but showed little shame. “My grandmother?” she asked.
“I am sorry, but she rejoined the Goddess nearly a year ago,” said Orin.
“My brother?” asked Otera. “My cousin Elien?”
“Those should have been the first words out of her mouth!” someone whispered. Kalie turned and saw Martel beside her, looking at Otera in disgust.
“Your brother lives in a small fishing village, two days south along the coast,” said Orin. “Elien left to look for you last summer. Perhaps we can locate her, and let her know you have returned. But it the mean time, you will need a place to stay. The house belongs to you, and you may return there, but the three men who lived there now have, as Zanal said, worked hard to restore it. It stood empty for many seasons.”
“I will not share my home with one of them!” Otera shouted, not looking at the horsemen.
“I do not think that will surprise anyone here,” said Janak, keeping a firm grip on his smithing hammer, and an eye on Otera. “But you have information we need, and we have all wasted enough time on…unpleasentries.”
“Let us go to the temple and discuss this calmly,” said Nara, hobbling over to Otera, and taking her firmly by the arm. Not even Otera, it seemed, would refuse to help an elderly priestess walk to her temple.
Keepers of the Ancient Wisdom (Kalie's Journey Book 3) Page 9
