by J F Rivkin
They both have to do with the fountain.”
“That’s probably it,” Raphe agreed. “Water is a never-ending source of power.
Waterwheels turn most of the mills in the valley, along the River Sheivoln.”
“And it can be treacherous, especially at spring thaw,” ’Deisha said thoughtfully. “When there’s too much rain and melting ice at once, the river can overflow its banks, and the valley fills up like a bowl. There have been seasons of flooding that carried off homes, and drowned people and livestock…
Drought or flood, there’s always danger of both. Every spring, year after year, folk worry-will there be enough rain? Will there be too much? Most years all goes well, but the danger is always there. I think Corson’s right-water.”
“Winter turning into spring, children dancing in a ring,” recited Nyctasia. “And here we are, back where we began.” For the temple itself was round, a ring of rooms about the inner courtyard. All the doors led either to the center or, finally, back to the entranceway.
The rest of the rooms had been a disappointment, empty and littered with debris.
In the last room they passed through they discovered the remains of a fire, and the bones and feathers of a hen. “It seems that the ghost who haunts the harvesters1 encampment has a healthy appetite,” said ’Deisha.
“That one would be a ghost soon enough if I had my way,” Raphe vowed. “Alarming the workers at a time like this! Well, we can tell Ansen that the mystery is solved-it was only some vagabond, after all.”
“By all means, let’s have no more mysteries,” said Nyctasia. “We’re all agreed about the final riddle, thank the vahn. I only hope we’re right about it.”
“I don’t,” said Corson.
“I know, but I didn’t care for the threatening sound of the thing. All that about danger and treachery-it hardly seemed the kind of search one would set for children-But if it’s only water… That solution has at least the virtue of safety.”
Corson spat. “The real reason the Cymvelans were slaughtered was that folk grew sick of their stupid riddles! Let’s get back down where there’s some shade.
Water isn’t my idea of treasure, but I wouldn’t mind having some just now.”
“You shall have all you want,” Raphe promised. “We’ll go to Lake Teseren for a swim, if you like. It’s barely an hour’s ride.”
“I don’t hold with swimming,” said Corson. “It’s against nature. People have feet, not fins.”
“As to that,” said Nyctasia, “the earliest Eswraine myths say that people once lived in the water, like frogs. In fact, the word for ‘ocean’ and the word for
‘womb’ in Ancient Eswraine are very nearly-”
“But on a day like this,” Corson interrupted, “I could soak in a stream with pleasure, I admit.”
“All the children will want to come along,” ’Deisha warned.
“Let them come,” said her brother. “They can all swim well enough, even ’Lorin and Sparrow.”
“I can’t,” said Nyctasia.
Raphe and ’Deisha stared at her. Raised on the lakes, they could hardly remember a time before they knew how to swim. “But you come from the coast!” ’Deisha protested.
“The borders of Rhostshyl are inland, a day’s ride from the sea at best. We’ve made common cause with the Maritime cities, but we’re not a port. Indeed, I’ve only seen the shore a few times in my life-I never had a reason to learn to swim.”
“It’s time you did then,” cried ’Deisha, delighted at the opportunity to teach something to her accomplished cousin. “Fancy such ignorance, and you an Edonaris! Come along straightaway!”
The descent was not difficult, but the sun was directly overhead now, and beating down unmercifully. They were all glad to rest halfway down, in the shade of the same shelf of rock where Nyctasia had stopped before. Beneath the protruding stone a shallow recess cut into the hillside, one of the many caves that were common to the region. The chill, dark shelter was a welcome relief in the midday heat, and they crowded into it gratefully. The laborers had retreated to the shade of trees and tents at the foot of the hill for the long noon rest, not trusting the shelter of a cave on the haunted hill.
“No sun has struck here for a thousand years,” said Raphe with satisfaction, reclining comfortably with his head in Corson’s lap. “It would be perfect for a wine-keep if it were only deeper. We’ll need more cellar-space in a few years if my plans bear fruit.”
“What of the cellars at the temple?” Nyctasia suggested, leaning lazily against
’Deisha.
“They might do. I’ve not explored them properly. But I doubt we could find enough workers willing to set them to rights. It’s hard even to get harvesters for the hill.”
“Asye! If the place is so troublesome why don’t you tear it down?” asked Corson.
There was a moment’s shocked silence. “We couldn’t do that-” said ’Deisha.
“Why not?”
“It would be… disrespectful to destroy what’s left of their sacred place. It would seem like defiance, as if we’d dared the Cymvelans to do their worst. Oh, I don’t hold with the tales about the temple, but if something did happen we’d be blamed for it. Folk would say we’d brought down the wrath of the Circle, you see. It would be risky.”
“I’d chance it,” said Corson decidedly. “If you ask me, folk would thank you for ridding them of the bane. You lot are just like Nyc-you think too much. You dream up new troubles before you’ve done with the old. Sometimes it’s action that’s wanted, not ideas.” She tweaked Raphe’s nose spitefully. “Remember?”
He tried to bite her fingers. “That’s all very well, my wild swan, but suppose we decided to raze the temple, where would we find people willing to do the work? No one in these parts would dare have a hand in it. So there we are.”
“Aside from that,” added ’Deisha, “think how distressed Aunt Mesthelde would be.
She’d never know a moment’s peace, waiting for ghostly vengeance to strike the family, foretelling disaster at every turn, warning folk away-there’d be no peace for the rest of us either.”
“Now that is truly a terrifying notion,” Corson acknowledged. “It would be a braver one than I who’d dare cross Lady Mesthelde’s will. Let the temple stand!”
They all laughed, and no more was said of the matter, but Nyctasia wondered whether the twins had really explained their reluctance to tear down the temple.
Beneath their glib arguments, had they in fact been frightened at the idea-and were they aware of it themselves? But, after all, what was there to fear?
As ’Deisha had foretold, their party increased in number appreciably before they set out for Lake Teseren that afternoon. Everyone who could be spared from the work in hand was in favor of the idea and hastened to fetch food and fishing nets and blankets for the outing. Those who were too little to ride alone were taken up behind the others or perched almost on the necks of the great patient workhorses ridden by the older children. Even ’Deisha’s two favorite dogs came running alongside, barking and excited.
There were races along the way-which were strictly forbidden, of course-and halts to pick wild berries or to show some feature of the landscape to Corson and Nyctasia. Goats barred the path and had to be shooed away, a child was stung by a bee and comforted, but in time they reached a high bluff that divided the lake into two arms and sloped steeply to the shore on either side. Here they tethered the horses, and the children scrambled and slid down to the water’s edge, disregarding the steps cut into the stone at intervals. The others followed more carefully, but Nyctasia lingered there, gazing out over the wide vista of rich green hills and bright water. The day was so clear that she could see the River Teseren and the towers of Amron Therain in the distance. All during the ride through the peaceful countryside, she had been possessed by a sense of heart’s ease and contentment, kindled by a longing she could not put a name to. The delicate, dappled branches of young trees in
the open meadows were patterned so perfectly against the dark mass of ancient woodland that they seemed to hold a message for her-a meaning that she might read if only she looked long and hard enough. Summer’s infinite shades of green blended seamlessly, as far as the eye could see, illumined here and there by the red-gold flames of autumn’s beginning, or haunted by the slender specter of a white birch. Nyctasia felt somehow both humbled and exalted by all that she saw.
“What has gone before, will return again,” she sang softly, unheard. How could it be doubted that Harmony was the Governing Principle of life? Even flood, even drought, were part of the design. The deep, serene waters of the lake below reflected these truths to her more fully than her studies had ever done.
“Nyc? Aren’t you corning?” asked ’Deisha anxiously.
Nyctasia smiled in reply, and they started down the steep stairs of rock together. “It is no wonder that the valley has known peace for so long,” she said. “You Valleylanders live all your days in the midst of a vast manifestation of Balance.”
“I’ve not been raised a very good Vahnite, I’m afraid,” ’Deisha said apologetically. “I don’t really understand the Principles of Foundation, much less the Balances and Influences and all the rest. My people have never taken the Discipline much to heart.”
“You understand the Principles well enough, my dear,” said Nyctasia. “You understand them better than I do.”
Nyctasia was unfamiliar with the etiquette of a swimming party, but when she saw that the others simply stripped off all of their clothing and stepped into the water, she did the same with no hesitation or show of surprise. The only possible course of conduct for a lady to adopt, under the circumstances, was to behave as if she had been accustomed to such ways all her life. And the shock of discovering how ice-cold lake water could be on such a hot day soon drove all other considerations from her mind.
Everyone was interested in teaching her to swim, including the dogs, who ran along the shore barking wildly, then even swam out a way to watch and offer encouragement. The children demonstrated their skills with a great deal of shrieking and thrashing about, until ’Deisha chased them out of the way. They splashed her furiously and went off to hunt for water-lizards under the large, flat stones along the shore. The others made free with suggestions and advice while Corson stood by and watched critically.
Nyctasia was first taught to float on her back. “You can never sink so long as you do this,” ’Deisha assured her. “Any time you’re tired you’ve only to turn over and drift in to shore. I’ve never understood how people can possibly drown when all they have to do is float to stay above water.”
“That’s because you only know these calm valley lakes,” said Corson. “If breakers are beating at you, or ocean currents dragging you under, you can’t just drift to safety. You have to fight, and you’ll probably lose. You can’t trust wild waters.”
“‘Dangers beyond telling’ indeed!” said ’Deisha. “But Teseren’s not treacherous, I promise you-though you might be bitten by a turtle if you don’t watch where you step.”
Corson looked down hastily. The lake bed was mainly shale, and the water brilliantly clear. There were no turtles underfoot at the moment.
“And there are leeches out farther, where the water-weeds begin,” Raphe said matter-of-factly, “but only quite small ones. They usually drop off if you douse them with vinegar.”
“Or touch a live ember to them,” someone else put in.
Corson was already striding toward the shallows. “People weren’t meant to swim!” she declared. “It’s against nature! I knew it was so!”
Raphe splashed after her, calling, “And beware of sea serpents too! Great scaled snakes with sawtooth fins and four rows of fangs!” Corson made a determined effort to drown him while ’Deisha showed Nyctasia how to tread water.
“Now if you just do the same thing, on your belly, you can swim the way the dogs do, but it’s a lot of work without getting very far. It’s more practical to lie on your side and use your whole arm and leg, like this.” She swam in a slow, graceful circle around Nyctasia, turning from side to side. “Now you try it.
I’ll hold you. You needn’t keep your head up.”
When Nyctasia had mastered the sidestroke after a clumsy fashion, ’Deisha said,
“Now watch this,” drew a deep breath, and dove under the surface, heading out into the deep water. Nyctasia followed with her eyes for a surprisingly long time before ’Deisha finally resurfaced for air and disappeared again.
Underwater, she moved with a flowing silken ease, gliding effortlessly toward Nyctasia through the bright, sunlit lake to leap up beside her and drape her with an armful of white and golden water lilies.
“Teach me to swim like that,” said Nyctasia eagerly.
But there was little to learn. Though she had never imagined that human eyes could look up through water to the light, it seemed perfectly natural now, like something she had done before. She was strangely surprised to find that she had to rise to the surface to draw breath. Small, sun-yellow fish darted away from her, and she felt as sleek and swift as they. All the while there was a pulsing roar in her ears, which she took for the sound of waves beating on the shore till she remembered how still and calm the lake was. Soothing and somehow familiar, the rhythm echoed in her blood, “The true spring’s weal lies deep…
Neither less nor more, neither sea nor shore… neither earth nor air…”
When she next came up to breathe, she was alarmed to find herself at such a distance from shore, and panic seized her like a strangling hand. She couldn’t possibly swim back so far! She floundered helplessly for a moment that seemed an eternity, but ’Deisha was beside her, treading water, reminding her calmly,
“Float if you’re tired, float.”
Nyctasia at once fell onto her back, stretching out, balancing her weight, letting the water bear her up. She lay still, resting, only stirring her arms gently to propel herself slowly toward land. She drifted in lazy serenity, watching the crazed, crimson flames that the sunlight kindled behind her closed eyelids, and after a time she let herself drop down again and confidently made for shore. ’Deisha raced her and won, but not by much.
They surfaced together, gasping and laughing, to wade through the shallows with clusters of silver minnows tickling their ankles. Now it was the water that felt warm, and the air chill against wet skin. Nyctasia shivered and sneezed.
The younger children ran up to show them the shiny stones they’d collected, and the dogs galloped over to greet them and shake spray from their coats in all directions. Nyctasia stumbled painfully on the sharp stones underfoot. The others’ feet were hardened from years of running barefoot, but every pebble seemed to cut Nyctasia cruelly. Finally she sat down on one of the great flat boulders, half in and half out of the water, and refused to take another step until someone fetched her sandals. The children scampered off to find them, each eager for the honor, with the dogs chasing after them. ’Deisha knelt in the water before Nyctasia to rub her bruised and aching feet. “A dainty, lady’s foot, tender as a baby’s,” she said, smiling, and kissed it playfully. “We’ll have to take better care of you.”
“I shall have to adapt,” said Nyctasia seriously.
“I think you’re taking root very well,” said Raphe, wading up to them in waist-deep water. “Come talk sense to Corson, she won’t listen to me.”
“No one can make Corson listen it she’s not of a mind to,” Nyctasia assured him, but she was glad to slip back into the lake and follow, drifting and swimming out to the rocky point of land where Corson was stretched out on the warm stone, sunning herself. Nyctasia held to a low boulder and pulled herself partway out of the water to reach up and splash Corson liberally. “Aren’t you coming for a swim at all, you lazy great slug? The water’s splendid here!”
Corson rolled over and looked down at her balefully. “You’re welcome to it. I watched you-you might have drowned out there, fool!”
&nbs
p; Nyctasia looked at her a moment, puzzled, then exclaimed in astonishment, “Why, you can’t swim, Corson, can you?” At once she was sorry she’d spoken, knowing how Corson hated to ask for help or admit to any sort of weakness. But it was too late to recall her words.
Corson glared at her. “What of it?” she demanded. “I only know what I learned in the army. They thought it enough if we could fight on foot and on horseback. I wasn’t trained for a fisher!”
“But this is sport, love,” urged Raphe. “You’ll enjoy it.”
“We’ll teach you-it’s easy. Nyc’s doing well already,” ’Deisha said encouragingly.
But Corson would not be coaxed out into deeper water, and Nyctasia soon put a stop to their teasing. “Let her be,” she said, climbing up beside Corson and waving to the children who were carrying all her things about in search of her.
“Corson has a cat’s nature, and hates the water. And I’m rather tired myself.”
“Well, it is time we thought of getting back,” said ’Deisha. “Nesanye’s left already.” She joined Nyctasia and shook herself like one of her dogs. “Let’s see if any of the brats has been eaten by a pike.” She surveyed the pack of children who soon surrounded them. “Where are Bean and ’Lorin?”
“Uncle N’sanye took Lorrie home,” Sparrow volunteered, and someone else accounted for Bean to ’Deisha’s satisfaction. Most of the others had gone already, and the rest soon followed, rounding up the children and their own scattered clothes. Nyctasia found that she really was tired, though she had only said so to keep the twins from pressing Corson to swim. They had come too close to discovering what Nyctasia had realized only just in time-that Corson was deathly afraid of the water. She’d never forgive me if I’d given that away, Nyctasia thought soberly.
The afternoon of swimming, after the morning’s hard climb, had taken its toll of Nyctasia’s strength, and by the time they reached home she was fit for nothing more than collapsing across her bed in exhaustion. Her legs and arms ached to the bone, and there was a fierce, smarting pain across her shoulders.
