Otera nodded. They wandered past the bonfire, to where the crowd thinned out, and the sounds of insects could be heard over the sounds of humans. They walked in silence until Otera began to speak.
“You really lived with them?” she asked Kalie. “Not once, but twice?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And did you ever learn…why they are the way they are?”
Kalie sighed. “That question has haunted me for years. I learned some things, though nothing can really explain it all. The land they live in is harsh in a way most of us cannot understand. Searing hot summers, freezing winters. Never enough food or water. I believe it twisted the people who lived there. They made fighting for resources and controlling everything of value into a kind of religion.”
“That’s no explanation!” snapped Otera. “It makes just as much sense to say they left that place and found a kinder land where they could become better people. Or that the women rose up one day and poisoned all the men. Why would things go one way, and not the other two?”
Kalie thought about it. It was, she had to admit, an interesting question. It also gave her some insight into how Otera’s mind worked. But she had no answer, nor did she think Otera expected one.
“I heard tales of your journey to the steppes,” Otera continued. “I did not believe them; I didn’t really believe in the beastmen, until I met them myself. What you said the other day in the temple, about how no one believed what happened to you that first time? I just wanted to tell you, I’m sorry about that. I guess I was one of those people.”
“And then, when it happened to you,” Kalie prompted. “You couldn’t understand how people could tell you to just get over it; that things would get better, and you could go back to living as you once had.”
Otera froze. “Yes,” she said. “That is exactly what happened.”
“Your world had stopped. How could theirs just go on like nothing happened?”
Kalie was pleased to see that Otera was thinking hard, but Kalie needed to sit down, and the other woman showed no sign of moving. She spied an unoccupied log, one of many which had been dragged to the edges of the gathering place, and began moving toward it. Otera followed. An inebriated couple staggered over to the log, just as Kalie and Otera reached it. They took one look at the two women, and quickly staggered away.
“You’re right, Kalie,” Otera said as they sat down. “Everything you just said. And what you said that first day, about how talking with someone who’s been through the same thing can help.”
“But you didn’t need me to tell you that,” Kalie said, feeling for the first time a stab of envy. “Valeska, Derona, the others—“
Otera nodded. “We’ve helped each other. Saved each other’s lives, if you believe Derona. When I decided to travel here, they would not let me leave alone. Although Valeska follows me everywhere. I don’t think she even knew where I was going or why. I don’t understand why, but being with me makes her feel safe.”
Kalie looked at Otera’s threatening bulk and fierce manner, and was fairly certain she understood why Valeska followed her.
“There are four others who survived the attack, waiting for us back in Baratan. And another woman who’s joined us from much farther away. We formed a kind of sisterhood. We’ve been teaching ourselves how to fight. We practice on animals, trying new techniques; new weapons we’ve developed.”
That wasn’t what Kalie had been expecting, and she was not entirely comfortable with it. Especially with the way Otera’s blue eyes glittered in the moonlight as she spoke. “Your people must appreciate the meat and hides you contribute,” she said carefully.
Otera began tearing pieces of bark from the log. “They did. At first. Then they began to worry that our behavior was unnatural. We were causing unnecessary pain to the animals, they said. We were abusing the Goddess’s gifts!” Both fists crashed into the log. “Can you believe that?” Otera’s voice was shrill. “Abusing the Goddess’s gifts! Maybe they need to spend some time with the beastmen to learn what those words really mean!”
“Perhaps the hardest part of all of this,” said Kalie, “is learning how to save ourselves from the beastmen without turning into them. That was something that came up, over and over, when I fought to persuade the people of Riverford to allow me to take volunteers to destroy the threat at its source.”
“It really was a brilliant idea, Kalie. I’m sorry that you failed.”
Kalie bristled. “I did not fail. I simply—“
“Oh, please, Kalie! I’m not blaming you—at least I’m trying hard not to. But the steppes are still thick with murderers and rapists, you’ve blazed a trail which will lead them straight to us, and you even brought a crowd of them with you!”
“If you want to save your home from the beastmen, and you are willing to take up weapons and fight, then you should be speaking with the men who followed me here, and not me!” Kalie fought to keep her temper. “They will be happy to teach you to fight—and ride as well, something you will not easily learn on your own—if, indeed, you can ever get horses without their help!”
“They are the enemy! And the fact that you can’t see that makes everything you have accomplished suspect!”
“They are not your enemies, Otera, nor mine! But they have trained all their lives to perfect those skills that you and your friends are stumbling around blindly, trying to teach yourselves. Put aside your anger and look at things logically. You need the warriors to learn the arts of war. They need you because there are not enough of them—by far—to challenge the tribes if they come as one big horde. We should be working together, not arguing.”
Otera shook her head. “I would rather die free, fighting beside my sisters, than as a tool of the men who came here to conquer. But it may not come to that. I have heard that you discovered a weapon, and used it to escape your tribe. Does it really cripple horses? Even cause them to trample their own riders? If that is true, and you show me how to make it, we will not need the skills of a lifetime to kill the invaders. We’d need to learn only a few new tricks—and a strong stomach.”
“Your stomach seems strong enough, Otera. And when enough of the towns and villages have agreed, I will show whoever wishes to learn my new weapon. But regrettably, I do not trust you to use it wisely.”
Otera was silent for a time, and then she stood. Kalie stared up at her impressive stature, and saw how the moonlight turned her short blond hair into a gleaming white pelt. “I will return to my sisters with what I have learned. The journey was well worth it, whatever you may think of my plans and my methods.” Otera turned to go, and then stopped. “If you change your views; if those men you brought here ever betray you, then come find me. There will be a place for you among my sisterhood.”
Then she was gone, leaving Kalie uncertain how to react. She sat alone in the dark, drinking in the cool, fresh air of the spring night, until Riyik came looking for her.
“There you are!” Kalie struggled to her feet at the sound of Riyik’s voice, and he helped her up, gathering her into a hug at the same time. “Minda said you’d gone off alone with Otera, and no one had seen you since. I was worried.”
“Otera’s no threat to me. Not physically, at least.”
Riyik stared moodily into the beautiful night. “I wish I could be as certain of that as you are.”
“She’s more a threat to herself than anyone else,” Kalie said as they began to walk. “Very much like I was when I returned after my first time as a captive of the tribes.”
“She’s nothing like you,” Riyik insisted. “There’s something dark inside her.”
Kalie wanted to argue; to point out the same had been said of her, or that everyone around Otera needed to be patient with her, but she had no idea what was true at this point. They soon reached their house, where Kalie was surprised to see Brenia waiting with the children. Barak and Yarik were both asleep in the room Yarik shared with Varena, while Myla and Liara were giggling and whispering in Varena’s bed.
“It seems Brenia’s brood will be staying with us tonight,” Riyik said, bemused.
“If it’s all right with you, of course,” Brenia said to Kalie, her normally serene voice strangely high-pitched and rushed.
“Of course,” Kalie said, puzzled.
“I’m going,” Brenia’s eye’s slid to the door. Then, in an act of will, she met Kalie’s gaze. “I’m going to Martel’s home tonight.”
Kalie’s face broke into a grin. It was the best news she’d heard all night. “Good for you!” she cried, pulling Brenia to her in a great hug. “Stay as long as you like. The children will be fine here.”
“I just hope I will be,” Brenia muttered. She glanced once more at her brother, as if expecting to be ordered back to her tent.
But Riyik only shrugged. “I always wanted better for you than that fool Hysaak, sister. And Martel is that at the very least. And we all knew we’d have to get used to new ways.”
“And I hoped all along those new ways would bring you joy,” said Kalie.
“As did I,” said Riyik.
Brenia left the house, her nervousness warring with her usual dignified walk.
Kalie kissed Myla and Liara goodnight. “Time to sleep, girls.” They quieted at once, and Kalie dropped the door curtain closed behind her.
“Since you’re not sharpening your spear to kill Martel,” she whispered to Riyik as they entered their own sleeping room, “I guess I don’t need to explain why Varena won’t be back tonight, either.”
“I figured that one out on my own,” said Riyik. “It’s strange for me; stranger than I let Brenia know. But really, when you think of it, a man can accomplish a lot more when he’s not busy chasing other men away from his home, or beating his women to protect their honor.”
“This has turned out to be a very good day indeed,” Kalie said, sliding out of her dress and into the furs of their bed.
Chapter 14
Once winter had released its grip on the land, the town of Stonebridge resembled nothing so much as an overturned beehive. Travelers arrived, and residents left for journeys to other places. Merchants’ packs were heavy with the goods people had spent the winter crafting, including things no one in this land had seen before: felt and unguents made by women from the east, tools of finely carved bone whose evident quality and foreign style, everyone hoped, would bring large profits.
Kalie was too busy to bid a personal farewell to everyone who left, or greet everyone who arrived, but when Casim and his party set out, she walked with them to the edge of town, and then down the well worn path to the sea. Most of those who had arrived with Casim in midwinter had chosen to remain awhile longer in the town, but a new group accompanied him now.
“Is it always like that with you?” she asked the storyteller. “People just leave their homes and follow you?”
“And then reach a point where they’ve had enough and let me go on without them? Yes. Ever since I began this wandering life.”
“How did Darva take your departure?” Kalie asked.
“She was angry, at first. I fear that woman knows only two emotions: anger and fear.”
“Don’t forget ambition.”
“I consider that the offspring of the first two,” said Casim. “But I was able to see more in her during our time together. Our way of life is growing on her, slowly. Even if she thinks she has nothing to contribute, I believe she will find something. Especially when she discovers what has happened to her original plan.”
The grin on Casim’s face sent a spasm of delight through Kalie. “Oh, do tell me!”
Casim glanced at one of his new followers, who took up the tale. “She raged at Casim,” the young man said. “Accused him of breaking his oath to her, and swore that her son would avenge her, though he must chase Casim to the ends of the earth.”
Kalie laughed. “Is that when she learned that Sirak had made some changes of his own during that long winter when she was too busy to care for him and his sister?”
Casim nodded. “A little praise from the warriors, and some admiration from his students, and Sirak began to see the world differently. And, I suppose meeting a girl who could best him at riding may have helped.”
“I hope to be there when she bests him at weapons practice,” said Kalie. But the important thing was that Sirak’s dreams of conquest and kingship seemed to be fading.
A few days later, it was Riyik she had to see off, along with most of the men who had come with them from the east.
The land was on fire with rumors of nomad attacks, and frightened people doing even more frightening things in response. The council of Stonebridge had deemed it necessary to send delegations made up of the nomads who knew how to fight, and elders of the Goddess lands whose voices were respected, to convince everyone who lived between the Black Sea and the edge of the grasslands to prepare a defense.
“I will be back in time to see my son born,” Riyik promised.
“Or daughter,” Kalie reminded him. It had become a standing joke between them.
They held each other for a long time.
“Borik will remain here, and Garm.”
“Between Garm’s weapons and Borik’s fighting abilities, we will be safe,” Kalie said. “I’m glad you’re taking Durak. He may well turn out to be the best spokesman we have. After you, of course.”
“We’d best be leaving,” Orin said gently. With a last smile, Riyik followed the priest to the path which led north from the town. With them traveled two elderly women who would lend their voices to the warnings of the former nomads, and Orin’s eldest acolyte. The horses remained behind, though Riyik was sorely tempted to take them just to speed things up. But the council had overruled him, insisting that the people of Stonebridge needed them to continue training and preparations. And, with only five of them, they could not risk losing even one to mischance, especially the two who were pregnant.
As soon as Riyik’s party had disappeared from view, Kalie began her own preparations for departure.
She told no one that she still planned to visit Green Bower, since she knew it would not be a popular decision. But she was determined to learn how her friends had fared before childbirth kept her confined until next spring.
Yet, for the next several hands of days, first one thing and then another prevented her from leaving Stonebridge.
Yarik became ill, along with many other children in town. It was not serious, but Kalie knew she could not leave until he was well.
Then Kalie became ill, and when she recovered, and was finally ready to travel, Varena—who she planned to leave with the care of Yarik—learned that Taran no longer wished to plan a future with her. Varena had learned to cope with cruelty, hunger and violence in her short life. But no experience had prepared her to cope with heartbreak.
As Kalie sought to comfort her oldest child, the one inside her seemed to be growing with every day lost. She began to wonder if the Goddess Herself was not keeping Kalie in Stonebridge.
Her suspicions were confirmed one beautiful day in late spring, when yet another group of travelers made their way across the bridge to the hilltop town. But these were people were not strangers.
“Larren?” she cried as a tall, self-assured woman with a baby on her back strode across the bridge. Spring flooding had made the bridge the only way into the town from the east.
Behind Larren were Garak and Shula. Kalie ran—or rather, waddled—to the bridge, just as Larren stepped off it, and into Kalie’s arms.
“I was just about to begin a journey to Green Bower!” Kalie cried.
“Then I’m glad we reached you first,” Larren said, staring down at Kalie’s bulging middle. “You’re in no condition to travel.”
Kalie conceded defeat, but was too happy to care. “Let me see our youngest visitor!” Larren swung her baby around so the pack which held him nestled between her breasts.
“My son, Arlen,” she said proudly.
Shyly, Kalie took the warm bundle, and settled h
im into the crook of her arm as the party walked back into the town. She cooed at his innocent face and wide brown eyes seeing, as she knew Larren did, only a beautiful child, and not a young beastmen. When Arlen began to fuss, Kalie gave him back to his mother, and turned to greet the others.
“You’re looking very much alive, Garak,” she said, planting a kiss on the big man’s cheek.
“Especially for one who would have surely died, had he remained among the tribe,” Garak replied with a grin. He inhaled deeply as they passed beneath a blossoming apricot tree. “Everything smells sweeter to me since my brush with death. Or perhaps that’s just the smell of life in the west.”
“Wait until you’ve lived in the town a few days, my dear apprentice,” said Shula.
“Apprentice?” Kalie asked with a raised eyebrow. “But I thought it was Malor who wanted to study healing!”
“He did, for a while,” said Garak. “But he found his hands were simply too well suited for the spear and bow. And he turned out to be a patient teacher of those who wanted to learn the way of a warrior. I, too, wanted to do for others what the healers did for me. And it turned out I had a genuine calling.”
“Which was never an option where you came from,” Kalie finished.
“There were some raised eyebrows in the temple,” said Shula, “when I agreed to take him as an apprentice. But a man who begins training in his twentieth year has certainly learned things that no one starting before his tenth year has.”
“Let’s get you all settled,” she told the group. They continued through the town, slowly enough to allow everyone a chance to see the sites, and stop to ask questions if they chose. “Shula, I assume you and your apprentice—“ Kalie shot Garak a quick grin, “will stay in the Temple of Healing?” Shula nodded. Kalie turned to Larren. “Will you stay in my home for the length of your stay?”
“If there’s room for two more,” said Larren, cautiously as Arlen began to fuss.
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