A short time later, over thirty people were gathered in the largest meeting room, with the rest of the population of Stonebridge gathered outside, awaiting news.
“It was early last summer,” Otera began. She was calmer now, sipping tea, and speaking to those she remembered from when she lived in this town. Lanara sat beside her. Given Kalie’s vast experience with healers, it was easy to see that Lanara was one. After some argument, it had been decided that the settlers from the east would be allowed to attend the meeting. All but Tarella, Brenia, Darva, Durak and the children were present, sitting along a side wall, so Otera and her companions could ignore them if they chose. Kalie noticed that they rarely did.
“I was trading amber I had gotten in the north, in a town called Baratan, east of here.” Otera frowned, remembering. “A little to the south, too. It was about this size, and I was trading amber for copper tools and a very fine type of leather they made there.”
“Was this town in the mountains?” Kalie asked, trying to create a map in her head of where the nomads had struck. “Or could you see mountains from there?”
“There were mountains, but farther south,” Otera said, annoyed at the interruption. “It was our last day; we were making some last minute trades, and packing. Sometimes I wonder…if we had just left a day earlier…” She shook her head. “They came in the morning. On those creatures you call horses. They were like a storm; like a giant wave.”
“How many?” asked Riyik.
Otera glared at the horseman, and for awhile it seemed would not answer. Finally, not looking at Riyik, but at Nara, she replied. “I was too busy fighting something that never should have happened to count them. More than ten; perhaps as many as twenty. They killed people, as you may have heard. They knocked down buildings when they could; burned them when they could not. People tried to run, and the monsters ran them down with their horses. They laughed.”
Otera’s voice had grown flat; detached. Kalie recognized her own voice in the other woman. She closed her eyes as the words she herself had once spoken filled the room. “They forced themselves on women. Even children. Boys and girls. They laughed a lot when they did that as well.” Her breath caught then, and when she tried to sip tea from her cup, Otera spilled it. Someone brought her a cup of plain water, and Otera drained it in one gulp.
“I survived because one of them hit me so hard he thought I was dead. When I woke up, I found a few others alive like me in the wreckage, and a few who had managed to hide.” She nodded toward two of her silent companions. “Valesca and Derona were among those.” The beastmen took our animals with them—and at least ten women. Some of the women we found dead along the route they rode over the next few days. Some, we never found.”
“Where did they go?” asked Garm. “Was it east? Back toward the grasslands?”
Otera was silent, but Lanara answered. “Yes, they went east. I came with some others of my village to help, after the first survivors reached us.” Lanara’s face twisted into a grimace, which she relaxed with effort. “We followed their trail—it was easy enough with all the earth those animals churned up—and found another place they attacked. It was a small farming village. Two days beyond that, the grasslands begin. We stopped following and returned to Baratan, with the dead and injured we had collected.”
For awhile, everyone sat in silence. Otera had retreated inside herself in a manner with which Kalie was painfully familiar. Finally, Orin said, “At least we have some solid answers now, and not just rumors.”
“Do you recognize this group of attackers from Otera’s description?” Janak asked the easterners, although his gaze was on his apprentice, Garm.
“Based on what Otera has said,” Garm answered, “I believe this was an outcast band searching for wealth and territory.”
“How can you know that?” demanded Ilara. “They could just as easily been from your own tribe!”
“Former tribe,” Nara began.
“We already know that Yuraak—a chief from our former tribe—led a handful of survivors to Shining Mountain, where, thank the Goddess, the people were able to handle them on their own,” said Riyik. “Since the attack Otera described happened nearly a year ago, and involved enough warriors to make up a clan, we know they were not of Aahk. The disappearance of another entire clan would have been noticed.”
“They might have been from one of the other tribes Haraak tried to forge an alliance with,” said Zanal. “Haraak made sure the stories of the wealth here in the west spread. But Otera said these men raped boys. That is not something any warrior I know of would do. Openly, at least. That is why I believe they were outcasts.”
“We feared a larger attack,” said Riyik. “But if the violence is limited to small raids, there is much we can do to prepare, so that no one again will suffer as Otera and her people have.”
That sparked a quiet discussion, with Lanara especially interested, until Otera cut through it in a voice colder than the winter they had just come through. “It is certainly a relief, knowing that monsters are here to protect us. What have we to fear from their kin, now that our land is filled with armed men and horses? Unless of course, they plan to welcome their brothers to join them in ruling our land and our bodies for us. But since no one here is worried, everything must be fine.” Otera sent a hate-filled glare to everyone in the room.
“That is quite enough,” Janak began.
“Otera,” said Kalie, effectively cutting him off, “as the only person in the room who knows just how you feel, I’d like to speak with you privately.”
Otera turned her withering gaze on Kalie. “And how would you know anything about how I feel?”
“You said you knew something of my mission in the east. Perhaps you did not know that nearly eight years ago, I met the beastmen while traveling with a group of traders. I was raped as you were, but not left to rebuild my life with the help of those who cared. The beastmen took me with them, as you mentioned they took some of the other women you knew. I escaped and returned home, but no one believed my account of what happened. I later learned that it helps to talk to someone who has been through the same thing. Of course, at the time, no one else had.”
Otera seemed interested in spite of herself, and some of the anger left her face. “And after what they did to you, you returned to their land for more?”
“Well, once people finally believed me, and wanted my help, it seemed the least I could do!” Kalie smiled, aiming for levity, but saw that the attempt fell flat. “My life was nothing but pain and anger by then,” she continued in a quieter voice. “Something I think you are familiar with, Otera. I did not plan to survive; only to find a way to destroy the beastmen, so they could never threaten us again. I thought that defeating them would give my death a kind of meaning that my life no longer had.”
Riyik reached for her hand, and squeezed it reassuringly.
Otera turned burning eyes to Kalie. “And yet here you are,” she said sweetly. “Alive and well and still living with the beastmen. Oh, and you were kind enough to bring them with you, instead of stopping them. And lead enough of them and their horses to blaze a path that any clan looking for wealth and territory can now very easily follow.
Kalie froze under the paralyzing venom of Otera’s blame. Her hand trembled in Riyik’s, while his did the same. She felt how his whole body shook as his desire to defend her warred with his need to keep the peace and maintain the fragile trust they had all worked so hard to build.
Varena, however, had no such concerns. From her place beside Kalie, the young woman leapt to her feet, fists tightly clenched, and crossed the room to where Otera sat. “You close your mouth, you lying bitch, or I’ll close it for you!” she yelled. Varena, although tall for a nomad woman, was not much taller standing than Otera was sitting. In other circumstances, it might have been funny.
“Varena, stop!” Kalie shouted, snapping out of her shock.
Orin and Lanara stood and, flanking her, put gently restraining hands on Var
ena’s shoulders—but no one told her to stop talking, so Varena continued. “You know nothing of what Kalie suffered, or what any of us have suffered! You have no idea what it is to be a slave! Kalie saved more than forty of us from that fate, and left the tribes who would have already conquered this land by now fighting each other, so it might be many seasons before they can try again. And when they do, we will be ready for them because of her, and the warriors she brought here to teach your people how to fight. What have you done to help anyone, Otera? What have you done at all, besides insult everyone you’ve ever met, and threaten them with a spear you don’t even know how to use?”
Otera’s face was slack with surprise. She opened her mouth, but suddenly seemed to have nothing to say. Kalie would have hugged Varena if she were not so concerned with decorum. But she knew she would as soon as they got home.
“Otera stopped me when I would have taken my own life,” an accented voice said quietly into the silence. Derona, older than the others, with plain features that made it easy to overlook her, held Varena’s gaze easily. “And she did much to heal Valeska, although she still will not speak. So do not assume you know all there is to know of her.”
“We assume nothing; that is why we have gathered here to learn what we can,” Nara said firmly. “But we know bad manners when we see them, and the difference between trying to help and provoking anger.” Nara stood, effectively ending the meeting. “For now, there is still much to do to prepare for the Spring Festival, and I suggest everyone return to that.” Others stood as people began filing out of the temple. “Ilara, perhaps you and I can help Borik, Durak and Zanal find new living spaces, so Otera can move back into her house.”
“That’s all right,” said Otera. “For now, I will stay in the guest lodgings with my sisters. I do not think we will be remaining here long, and I would not care to sleep where those men have been.” She left the temple without meeting anyone’s eye, her three companions trailing behind her.
Kalie was silent as she walked home with Riyik and Varena, where Brenia was waiting with the children, and undoubtedly hoping for news.
“Are you all right?” Riyik asked her.
“I’m sure I will be,” Kalie replied.
“She had no right to say those horrible things to you,” said Varena.
Kalie decided not to wait until they got home. She gathered Varena in a fierce embrace and whispered, “Thank you!” Then she did the same to Riyik. Then she noticed all four of the other warriors were walking behind them—even Durak, whose behavior at the forge had barred him from the meeting.
“If that woman bothers you again—“ Borik began.
“What he means,” Garm interrupted, “is that every one of us honors you for bringing us here, Kalie. We promise not to make trouble by dealing with Otera as a warrior of Aahk would. But we want you—and her—to know: you are under our protection.”
“We want to help these people,” said Durak. At Kalie’s raised eyebrows he added, “Yes, even me! I’ll admit I was a fool when I first arrived. All that wealth in front of me, and everything so…different from the steppes. But fools like me die where I come from; they don’t get second chances! Here, I have one, and I don’t want to lose it. And I don’t want to see you punished for bringing us here.”
Kalie fought to hold back tears. “Thank you,” she said, when her voice was hers to control. The warriors escorted Kalie and Varena back home. Riyik, after making sure Kalie was all right, went to speak with his brother warriors. Varena was energetically telling Brenia everything that had happened, so Kalie had a few precious moments to herself.
She knew now that she had done the right thing in bringing the nomads to the land of the Goddess, even if a few might have been better left on the steppes. Otera’s cruel words were a small price to pay for that certainty. But Kalie could not help wondering if there was truth in some of the woman’s accusations. Had she made it easier for the hordes to sweep into her home? And when they came, as they surely would, would it be, at least a little, Kalie’s fault?
Chapter 13
The people continued to prepare for the Spring Festival. Otera remained quiet during this time, sometimes helping to prepare the fields, sometimes walking through the town, listening to and speaking with those who lived here. The new residents from the east all worked especially hard, determined to prove Otera’s accusations false.
Lanara helped in the temple of healing, the only one of the four who seemed to remember how to be at ease with others, and to put them at ease as well. Valeska and Derona stayed in the traveler’s temple, rarely venturing out.
Since no one from the steppes had ever done any kind of farming, or even seen it, this was a special time, as many found themselves fascinated by the process. Varena, and to Kalie’s surprise, Durak, showed signs of finding their true calling. Even Sirak, who had begun to help the men teach weapons and riding to the local children, stopped sulking about the suspension of lessons as he helped with the turning of the earth, the spreading of manure, the clearing of the irrigation channels and the checking of the seeds for signs of rot.
At last came a day of clear weather and the smell of green and growing things which announced the reawakening of the earth. People woke up and felt in their bones that today would be the festival, even before the priests announced it. Despite the fact that most who lived here made their living from trade and crafting, they gathered at the scattered communal fields as reverently as at any farming village. Everyone scattered wheat seed into the earth, then planted vegetables in their own small gardens. Animals were ritually sprinkled with water, and new lambs and kids counted and blessed.
The sun was still high when the work was finished, so most enjoyed a soak in the hot springs before the bonfire was lit and the feasting begun. There were not yet enough flowers in the forest to provide everyone with a garland, so those went to the children and the pregnant women. But everyone wore at least one flower braided into hair or laced into clothing. All of the pregnant women were seated on cushioned benches, where they had a fine view of the dancing and entertainments, and brought whatever food they wanted.
“This is hard for me,” Kalie told the other women as she picked at a piece of perfectly seasoned lamb. “I am not used to idleness—or being waited on.”
“I feel the same,” said Aldera, a woman nearly as old as Kalie, and about at the same point in her first pregnancy. “They had better let us get up soon! I’ve never missed a dance at a festival and I don’t intend to start now!”
“This year, you have a new role to play,” Minda said. “We carry the future of the People in our bodies. Giving up a few dances seems a small price to pay for so important an outcome.”
Kalie thought over Minda’s words as she felt her baby move within her. It was actually rather agreeable to sit and talk with the other mothers-to-be, and with all the people who came by to bring food, offer advice, or simply visit. Even the ones who insisted on rubbing her stomach for luck were not too annoying, and Kalie couldn’t help smiling at this latest reminder that she really was home. Thoughts of what those she’d left behind on the steppes would say about such behavior made her laugh out loud.
Kalie enjoyed watching the dancing—especially when she saw Brenia dancing with Martel, and Varena with Taran. Both pairs made nice couples, she decided. Then Kalie turned to speak with Aldera, and share with her some fried bread dipped in honey. When Kalie looked up, Varena was standing in front of her, Taran nowhere in sight.
“What is it, dear?” Kalie asked.
Varena fidgeted. “I just wanted to let you know…I’ve decided not to wait until summer. Taran is waiting for me in the woods.”
“It’s going to be rather wet out there,” Kalie said, but in her chest, her heart beat just a little faster. Joy? Worry? Excitement? Perhaps all three.
“But everything smells so good! And feels so alive! I can’t wait any longer to be part of it. And Taran’s bringing a blanket.”
Kalie laughed at V
arena’s mix of romantic and practical. “Have you been taking that tea I told you about?”
Varena looked away. “I didn’t know I would need it until tonight. But I just got some from Sarella. I’ll drink it before I meet Taran.”
“And you know to keep drinking it every day?”
“Yes, but even if it doesn’t work, a baby wouldn’t be such a bad thing now, would it?”
“You’re too young,” Kalie began, then stopped herself. “I prefer that I have my last child well before my first grandchild, but I will be happy with either outcome.”
Relieved, Varena grinned. “I wouldn’t be the first woman to have a baby the same year as my mother. It’s just that here, we might both live to see our great-grandchildren!” Varena gave Kalie a gentle hug, and then ran off meet her lover.
“She does seem young,” Aldera told Kalie, squeezing her arm reassuringly. “Yet I know I was about her age when I first came to know the Goddess in that way. And Taran is a nice young man. How did you come by a grown daughter, if this is your first pregnancy?”
So Kalie told her. About Maalke’s tent, and the ill-used girl who was his daughter, but a “bastard” because her mother was one of Maalke’s slaves, and of Kalie’s own hopeless struggle to avoid getting close to the people she had sworn to destroy. By the time Kalie got to the events that had led her to adopt Varena, all the women around her were listening with bated breath, including a very tall woman who stood a little apart from the others.
“Otera?” she said in surprise.
“I would speak with you, Kalie,” the woman said in the closest to a friendly voice Kalie had ever heard her use. “But after you finish your story.”
Kalie smiled. “A good storyteller always leaves some for later.” She stood, and one of her companions automatically reached out to steady her. Adjusting to a new center of balance was a challenge—especially when it changed every day. Another woman handed Kalie her sheepskin cape. “Shall we walk?” she asked Otera.
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