“Then that’s decided, isn’t it, Konis?” She grinned. “Going to be a few long faces in a day or two. Damn, but I’d love to be a fly on the wall when some of the letters you’re sending out arrive!”
*
As they made their way to their respective vehicles, Raiban fell into step beside Konis.
“Y’know, Nesul’s been a lot easier to work with since our meeting on the Rynara. You brought him up to scratch on the whole interstellar business, didn’t you? Don’t deny it,” she said, grasping his shoulder briefly. “He couldn’t have gotten his understanding any other way. What I want to know is why it wasn’t done sooner.”
“I’m sure I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Raiban. Only Master Esken can authorize a transfer of that magnitude, and there are very few of us capable of doing it. It’s actually quite a dangerous procedure when a nontelepath is involved.”
“Been taking a page out of your son’s book, eh?” chuckled Raiban, eyes glowing with amusement in the light reflected from the palace. “Slippery slope, Konis. Once you start, it’s never as easy to live by the rules our groundling cousins swear by again! Good night to you.”
“Good night,” echoed Konis, watching her stride off toward her official aircar.
“Konis,” said Lijou. “A moment of your time, if you please.”
He turned to face the priest. “Certainly. What can I do?”
“Be aware that Esken will go to the Consortias as soon as the letter arrives,” he said. “He has the right, he isn’t a Clan elder who needs to make a dynastic marriage, and he’s of the right age group.”
“I know. It wasn’t worth arguing the point with Raiban. So just how do we make him marry the one we want?”
“It won’t be the problem you think. We’ve had dealings with Consortia Houses in the past, business dealings. I’ll have him watched. When we find out which House he’s gone to, I’ll approach it with a proposition.” He looked over at Rhyasha. “If your female is willing, we can time it so she’s at the Guildhouse for a couple of days for her official introduction to him and so on while she’s in season. Our Guild Master is far from sophisticated when it comes to females. If she lays the right trail, she’ll catch him.”
Rhyasha laughed quietly. “Oh, she can do that!”
“What about the Consortia?” asked Konis.
Lijou flicked an ear. “For the right sum, when she visits, she can ensure what she does makes him run to his intended bride.”
“This is too well thought out for a spur of the moment plan, Lijou,” said Konis.
“It’s an old ploy, Clan Leader, ask your wife. Don’t forget, since I went to Stronghold, I’ve had to train as one of the Brothers even though I couldn’t fight. How could I help govern them if I understood nothing of the way they work?”
“Why are you helping me like this?” Konis demanded abruptly. “What will you gain from it?”
Lijou shrugged. “The same as you and all of Shola. The freedom to grow and evolve.” He turned to leave.
“He wants Kha’Qwa,” said Kusac, once Lijou was out of earshot, “but he’ll never ask you. Let him bond with her, Father. She’s Talented. We three owe him so much.”
“Wait!” called Konis.
Lijou stopped and returned to face him again.
“You want Kha’Qwa?”
He hesitated before answering. “She’d be my choice, Clan Lord. Like Esken, I have no need to make a life-bonding.”
Konis’ ears moved backward, then righted themselves as he watched the priest. “You may have herâ at a price.” Konis ignored the sharp intake of breath from his son. “I want you to take her as a life-mate in a temple wedding.”
Lijou’s mouth opened in a slow grin as he inclined his head to one side. “But of course, Clan Lord. I would have it no other way. I believe firmly that as Head Priest I should set an example to those entrusted to my care. Thank youâ and good night to you and your family.”
As the three of them watched Lijou enter the Brotherhood’s vehicle, Konis sighed and began walking to their aircar.
“Why do I feel like I’ve been subtly manipulated?” he asked Rhyasha in a pained voice.
She linked her arm through his. “Perhaps because you have, but so very gently, and to such good purpose: that of making two people happy,” she said, her voice holding a purring note of affection.
*
A couple of days later, when Carrie came down from the nursery, she found the house a hive of activity with Kitra presiding over a large pile of greenery in the den. Pinelike needles and a scattering of red and purple berries lay on the floor around her.
“What’s this all about?” she asked, stepping carefully around her before squatting down to her level to see what she was doing.
“Midwinter decorations,” said Kitra, pausing. “Dzaka and I gathered them this morning on the way back from Mother’s. He’ll be back in a moment with a box of things she sent over for you.”
“Things?”
“I forgot, this is your first festival, isn’t it? Midwinter is one of our biggest festivals, when we celebrate the return of the sun and the start of the new year. Taizia says you call yours Christmas.”
“Yes, we do,” said Carrie reaching down to pick up a wreath that her bond-sister had already made. Kitra had woven several different thin evergreen branches into a large circle, crafting it so the various colored berries were distributed evenly throughout. “We even use similar colors, red and green.”
Kitra nodded. “The sign of life in winter, and when I’ve put the white-leaved branches in, you’ll have the newly spilled blood of the hunt on the snow, too.”
“Yeuch,” said Carrie. “Hardly a peaceful symbol!”
“Our festival isn’t the same, Carrie,” she reminded her quietly, returning to her weaving. “It’s a time when Ghyakulla, the Green Goddess, must fight the frost and snow demons to get her son back from Khuushoi, Goddess of Winter.”
“And the hunt?”
The door opened and Dzaka, carrying a large box, came in with Kusac.
“The hunt is when all the males go out to get food for Ghyakulla and her newly born son,” said Kusac, bending down to touch her gently on the cheek as he passed her.
“Hang on a minute,” said Carrie, turning round. “I thought Ghyakulla was getting her son back from Khuushoi! Where does this newborn come in?”
“It’s a mixture of images and beliefs, like any religion,” said Kusac, going down to the lounge level to get some mugs of coffee from the hot plate. “Everyone want some coffee?”
A chorus of affirmatives answered him.
“So what is it we’re celebrating, exactly?” asked Carrie. A large cushion appeared beside her. She glanced up at Dzaka in thanks and arranged herself more comfortably on it.
“Dzaka, you’re the real priest here, you tell her,” said Kusac as he poured out the drinks.
“Both are true, Carrie,” he said, squatting beside his box and Kitra. “Ghyakulla and Khuushoi are Sister goddesses. The land, as you know, is rich and fertile, full of the promise of life and good harvests. Winter is cold and sterile; nothing grows but the evergreens. So you see the natures of the two sisters. Ghyakulla had a son, a bright, loving child whom she cared for more than anything. Khuushoi was sterile, could bear no cubs, and in her winter fastness, she became jealous.”
“So she stole the child,” nodded Carrie. “It’s a familiar theme, but it’s usually a daughter that the Mother Goddess of Earth has.”
“It probably was originally, but now that child is Vartra,” smiled Dzaka.
“Why am I not surprised?” murmured Carrie.
“As you say. A new religion blended onto an old one after the Cataclysm.”
“Go on with the story.”
“I’m no storyteller, Carrie,” Dzaka excused himself. “The resident Storyteller will tell the tale properly on the first night of the festival.”
“I’d like to hear your version of it, though.”
“Khuushoi stole the child and took him down to her underground palace of snow and ice. Ghyakulla was beside herself with grief because she didn’t know what had happened to him. She began to search frantically. It was the middle of winter, and no one had seen the child taken. All the animals and birds were huddled in their burrows and nests keeping warm or hibernating till the spring. All the trees were asleep, except those you see hereâ the evergreens. Ghyakulla asked each one in turn if they’d seen her son, but they were afraid of Khuushoi and lied, saying they’d seen nothing. Save for one.”
“This one,” said Kitra, holding up a small twiglet covered in leaves that were a pale whitish green on one side and a darker green the other. “The snow tree.”
Dzaka nodded. “It’s really a bush,” he said. “It told Ghyakulla in a trembling voice what had happened and explained its fear that Winter and her frost demons would destroy it for telling her.”
Kusac came up the steps with mugs of coffee for Kitra and Carrie. “You tell it well, Dzaka. Better than I could.”
Dzaka flicked his ears in mild embarrassment. “Teaching is one of our duties.”
Kitra leaned against him. “A many-talented male, my Companion,” she murmured. Though she said it teasingly, there was an undercurrent of pride and admiration in her voice. Dzaka’s hand touched her neck affectionately.
Lijou may well have been right after all, Carrie sent privately to Kusac.
We’ll see. Time enough for both of them yet, but I wouldn’t be displeased, he replied, returning to fetch his and Dzaka’s drinks.
“What happened next?” asked Carrie.
“Ghyakulla promised the tree that it wouldn’t suffer for helping her, and as a sign of her gratitude, she turned the underside of its leaves white and showed it how to hold the pale side up to the sky, so it would be unseen by Khuushoi and her demons.”
“The tears of gratitude she shed on the bush also turned its green berries to the brightest red of any in winter,” added Kitra. “That’s why it’s called the snow bush, and its berries, the Tears of Ghyakulla.”
“Strange thing to do to a bush that wants to remain hidden,” said Carrie, taking a drink of her coffee.
“Poetic license,” said Kusac, nudging her in the ribs. “Don’t be so literal! Carry on, Dzaka.”
“Then she set off for her sister’s palace. Khuushoi, alerted by her demons, tried to hide the way to her palace by covering the world in a blanket of snow. Every step of the way, her sister sent demons to hound Ghyakulla, but the power of the land is greater than that of winter and eventually, Ghyakulla reached the palace. There she confronted her sister.”
Dzaka paused to take a drink before continuing. “Khuushoi was prepared to fight it out, but not Ghyakulla. She understood the loneliness that had prompted her sister’s act and offered a compromise.”
“So Vartra visits Khuushoi for four months of the year,” said Kitra.
“During that time, Winter, or Khuushoi, reigns and nothing will grow till Vartra is returned to his mother,” finished Dzaka.
“I like it,” said Carrie. “But you still haven’t explained the cub or the hunt.”
“Better tell her that, too, or we’ll never get any peace,” said Kusac, stretching out beside her, half-leaning on her cushion.
“Besides, it’s a nice way to spend some time together on such a cold day,” said Kitra, moving even closer to her lover.
Dzaka draped his free arm over Kitra’s shoulders. “We have to go for wood soon,” he reminded her.
“Wood?” asked Carrie.
“Several large fires are needed over the three-day celebration,” said Kusac. “Dzaka and I are organizing a collection party from here to go and help my Mother’s folk. This year the celebrations are being held at her estate for both Clans. We’re also collecting our own New Year log. It’s a section of one of the main trees cut for the central fire. Every home will get a piece to keep throughout the coming year. You and Kitra can come, too,” he offered, “but we thought you’d prefer to stay in the warm and decorate the house.”
“I’ll show you how to make the garlands,” said Kitra, “and weave your hopes and wishes for the New Year into them.”
“Sounds like a good idea. How you can go out there without anything on your feet amazes me! It’s too damned cold for me!”
“You get used to it,” said Kusac amiably, reaching an arm round her waist. “We’ve never known anything else. Couldn’t bear to not feel the ground beneath me. I like to know what I’m walking on.”
Carrie gave a mock shudder. “Rather you than me at this time of year. Now the story, if you please, Dzaka.”
“It’s not really a story. At this time we celebrate the rebirth of the sun, the lengthening of the days and the start of the new year. The festival is held over three days. On the first, we males do the final gathering of fuel for the fires, including the aromatic woods. We also collect piles of sweet grass to decorate the cavelike shelter for Ghyakulla that will sit just outside the large celebration hall that’s being erected in the grounds of your bond-mother’s home.”
“What? You put up a portable banquet hall?”
“How else can we accommodate so many people?” asked Kusac. “The whole of both our Clans will be there. It’s a time when everyone returns to their family for the celebrations.”
“It must be vast,” she murmured, trying to imagine just how large.
The size of one of the landing bays aboard the Khalossa, sent Kusac. It’s stored in panels and only used at midwinter and midsummer. We’ll have one when the estate can afford it and we’ve a large enough Clan to warrant it.
“It soon gets crowded,” said Kitra. “You’ll love it, Carrie. It’s a wonderful time of year.”
“While we’re doing the gathering, the fastest younglings, males not above eighteen years of age, will be sent out as runners to every field on both estates to plant the Clan totems. They’re posts carved with the faces of Ghyakulla’s nature spirits and animals. There are especially large ones for the four compass points on the boundaries, particularly the north where Khuushoi lives.”
“Then the young males over eighteen will start their passage into adulthood,” said Kusac. “They will have spent the night before at the shrine with Ghyan purifying themselves and will build the symbolic cave and decorate it with the sweet grass when it arrives.”
“That’s where Ghyakulla is supposed to have had her child, right?”
“That’s right. The first night is spent waiting for the new sun, or Ghyakulla’s cub, to be born, so it’s a time for the females of the tribe. All the newborns are blessed by the representative of the Green Goddessâ we’re being visited by the Priestess Tokui herself,” said Kusac. “She wants to personally welcome our new cubs Kashini, Marak and Khayla, Taizia and Meral’s daughter. She’ll ask the Goddess to watch over them until they become adults.”
“She’ll also pass me over officially to Vartra’s care at the ceremony,” said Kitra. “As an adult female, until I have cubs, I’m in His protection.”
“All the rites of adulthood are held on the second night,” said Dzaka, “when young males dance to keep the frost and snow demons away from Ghyakulla’s birth cave. It really is a wonderful time, Carrie. You’ll see us as a people in a way you never have before. You’ll understand our past, our origins.”
“I’m really looking forward to it,” she said, as memories of past festivals came to her from Kusac.
“Won’t you miss your Christmas?” he asked, nuzzling her ear.
She considered it for a moment. “Not really. A good way to live is what matters, and nothing I’ve seen here really disagrees with what I learned as a child. What are our archaeologists doing?”
“Some have asked to join in, some are going to the Terran quarters at the Telepath Guild where they’re celebrating their Christmas and watching the Guild festivities,” said Kusac.
“What about Kaid?”
“My Father’
s remaining at Stronghold,” said Dzaka quietly. “I wish he was returning, but he says he’s so recently left . .”
“He knows he’s welcome which is what matters,” said Kusac, reluctantly beginning to get to his feet. “We’d better be going, Dzaka.”
“You didn’t tell Carrie about the hunt,” said Kitra as Dzaka began to move.
“The hunt is the second day,” said Dzaka. “We males, plus those newly accepted into adulthood, go out to hunt. It’s only a token one, but we do it to remember that the Goddess’ consort, Vartra, hunted for her and the newborn cub.”
“Hang on! Wasn’t Vartra the cub? How can he be the consort, too?”
Dzaka shrugged, mouth open in a grin. “One of those things, Carrie. As his adult self, he is the Goddess’ Consort; as the child, he is the newborn son just as the Goddess is a maiden and a mother at different times of yearâ and the mother hunting her stolen son, as well as the pregnant mother bearing her child. It’s complicated and not a discussion for now. Ghyan is the one to really talk to about the theological side. He’s the official Priest of Vartra after all. My work is of a different nature.”
“Shall we look at what Mother’s sent over?” asked Kitra after the two males had left.
“Sure.”
Kitra pulled the box over and opened it, digging deeply in to pull out some brightly colored ridged paper shapes.
“Lanterns,” she said with pleasure, taking one by either end and pulling it open. It unfolded to produce a rectangular lantern, its sides decorated by grinning animalistic faces.
“They’re nature spirits,” she explained. “We use them around the house to frighten Khuushoi’s demons away. I wonder if Mother has included any lights for them?” She rummaged carefully in the box and came up with a smaller box which she opened. “Yes! We can have them lit, too!”
Carrie carefully reached into the bright, papery mass and pulled out another lantern. This was a round one, the face that of a hideous fish. “What’s this? It’s grotesque!”
Kitra laughed. “A demon-fish. Its ugliness frightens off Khuushoi’s demons.”
“If you’ve got things like that in the sea, I don’t think I’ll bother going swimming!”
razorsedge Page 19
