by Ako Emanuel
“If Tokia had not disgraced herself, you may have had a precedent to change the tradition that affords the Lesser Queens less power,” Thiam said, his thin face looking more mournful than usual. “However, she seems to have closed off that opportunity.”
“Perhaps not,” Audola murmured, reaching into a pocket-fold and pulling out the last scrap of papi’ras she had received.
“What does it say, Mother?” Rilantu asked, his curiosity piqued.
Audola handed it over to him. “I think that this Soku sul Doan might be useful in healing the breach in the Queens’ ranks,” she said as the note circulated the group. There were nods and skeptical looks. Sinyi looked outright opposed to the thought.
“However, the first priority must be locating and retrieving the Heir. Rilantu, Staventu, Otaga, Jarisa, I will leave that to you. I would like you to begin that task immediately. The rest of us will put our heads together and figure out a way to salvage the situation. We will keep you apprised of any developments. You are excused.”
The four chosen bowed and spread their arms, and took their leave of the group.
“Can this Soku be trusted?” Ashmisa asked. The question was followed by a heavy silence. The loyalty of a Queen had not been called into question in a long time.
“We shall see when I meet with her,” Audola replied quietly. “And I will consult the Av’rujo.”
The fifth Voice, Dariaku had not spoken. Audola looked to him. “Your thoughts, Dariaku?” she valued his opinion highly, for he always thought things through thoroughly before giving an answer.
“I have none yet, my Queen,” he said quietly, bowing his head to her. She nodded in return. She could wait. Only once had she ever forced him to give an opinion before he was ready. Fortunately, he had been right, but thereafter he absolutely refused to speak before his mind had completely shredded the problem and then put it back together as a solution. Audola had conceded the point with little fuss.
“I have a thought, Audola,” Luyon said. When she looked to him he smiled thinly, his full lips barely twitching. “My thought is that we all get a full eve’s rest and start again in the morn. With all the red eyes facing me, I fear that I might be looking at lor’ugawu.”
There were laughs all around and Audola nodded. “You are most correct, Luyon. And to look at your eyes, one could believe you to be the head lor’ugawu of the pack.” She stood and spread her arms. Her advisors climbed wearily to their feet as well. “Good dreams, my friends. May tomorrow find us much clearer of mind and eye.”
CHAPTER VII
in the last shreds of eve, the deepness of the darkness turned toward light...
“So how do we find her?” Staventu asked, gesturing to the huge map that covered the entire table and fell off on all sides to carpet a large section of the floor. He tugged at a sandal strap, shaking his head, popping a gennep into his mouth. The circle of light from the large chandelier of av’spheres illuminating the map glowed off his deep bronze skin. “She could be just about anywhere.”
“Well, what was her last known location?” Rilantu, his older twin, asked. He sat across the low table from his brother, leaning into the pool of light. The royal Princes had gathered their own miniature lorn in the huge Palace library, consisting of the advisors that their mother had assigned to them, with the addition of the head Librarian.
“The last time the Heir reported in, she was somewhere between here and here,” Jarisa said pointing to the Queendom lons of Shannai’lon and Cantoba’lon. “That’s were she left her escort, taking only one warru with her, and ordering the rest to continue on to Cantoba’lon. She said that she was going to go Weste, to try to approach an individual from the Av’Touched races and that the full escort would hinder her. It’s the same procedure she had used when she approached the Cribeau and the Katari. You know how they are, some of the Av’Touched. They are very particular about large groups of strangers approaching their lons.”
“But what significant Tribe of Av’Touched lives around here?” Staventu stabbed the map, which rustled dryly at such treatment. His finger lay on the borderline of the two lons mentioned. “There weren’t any last I heard.”
“Some of them are nomadic,” Rukto, the old Librarian, observed in his low, dried up voice. “Perhaps one has moved there recently.”
“This is all irrelevant,” Warru First Otaga said, irritably. “Let’s deal with pertinent facts for now. Irrelevancies can wait for later.” The warru woman was edgy with a member of the High Family missing, even more so because it was the Heir. Protecting the High Family was her most important duty, and she took responsibility for the actions and mistakes of all her warru. Losing the Heir had been unforgivable, and even though the High Queen had not admonished her, still she felt every moment that the Heir was missing like a stab to the heart. She, more than anyone, was quite anxious to have the Heir found and brought back home in one piece, and anything not directly related to achieving that goal only wasted time, in her view.
“All right,” Rilantu sat back. He began to name the facts that they had, counting them off on his fingers. “We know her last approximate location: somewhere on the road between Shannai’lon and Cantoba’lon, heading Weste, with only one warru. We know when she was there: almost four ten’turns ago. She could have reached the Border within that time by kati’yori. So we have an area with a radius of about two thousand yori’turns to search. Perhaps if we knew specifically why she was there?”
“She was on Journey. But she said something to the effect of wanting to verify some information in an obscure reference in one of the herstory texts,” Rukto supplied.
“What information was that?”
“I do not recall, exactly, but I can find out.” At Rilantu’s nod he clapped his hands, summoning a novice. “Please call for Pentuk. Ask that she bring with her the reference texts that she and the Heir were working out of.”
The novice nodded and went to the doorway of the adjourning lain that served as the Head Librarian’s study. There stood a waist-high drum that seemed to be part of the wall. The novice caressed the taut skin of the drumhead with his palm, causing a flat, hissing sound, which he followed with a strong, clear beat in sets of three. It was a name. He repeated this, then paused, then drummed out a totally different rhythm. The surprisingly deep voice of the drum traveled along special conduits in the walls that extended to all parts of the immense Library. The skill of the novice was clear as the drum almost literally “spoke,” the rhythm rising and falling like inflections of a voice. He repeated the message in the same short hand, one that neither Prince was familiar with, cocked his head, and then nodded to Rukto. He bowed, arms spread, and left.
“We’ll have our answer in a bit,” the old Librarian said, smiling.
Ten granes later a young woman stepped out of an av’tun, her arms loaded with huge volumes. She came forward, her movements graceful despite her awkward load. A high, narrow table floated to her from a nearby wall, almost like a docile pet coming to welcome its mistress. It slid to position itself before her so that she could put the books down.
“Teacher,” she greeted Rukto, in a soft, melodic voice, spreading her arms and bowing. “Warru First. Voice. Av’Sons.”
All greeted her in turn. Then she looked at Rukto for instruction.
“Pentuk is my best student,” Rukto said, looking like a proud father. “She will succeed me one of these turns to come. She was the Heir’s liaison here at the Library. Pentuk, you were working with the Heir. I need to know the information that the Heir was seeking to verify, and the passage it was from. The one for which she was trying to find corroborating information in the general regions around Shannai’lon and Cantoba’lon. I believe it had to do with the herstory of the Av’ru and the occurrence that preceded the Zehj’Ba.”
Pentuk felt a tiny pick of sweat start under her arms as she lifted the top book, laid her hand on the cover, murmured a short rite. She was nervous enough being in the presence of such powerful p
eople. But two were the Princes, and in their presence, the Rite-binding of secrecy that the Heir had laid upon her might be broken. Her teacher would not be pleased. She deliberated whether to take the initiative and break it herself or to wait until someone asked a pertinent question that required the Rite-breaking. The book flipped open when she moved her hand away, turning itself to the desired page. She held the book forth to Rukto. She would wait.
“Read it, child,” the old man said, waving the book away, taking his spectacles off to rub his eyes. “My old eyes need as much rest as they can get.”
Pentuk cleared her throat, scanned down the column of writing. A small globe of light appeared above her to illuminate the words.
“ ‘And it happened that in the cycle five thousand, four hundred and fifty of the Ava’dan, during the reign of Silini sul Ava’Lon, that there was a minor disturbance at the Western Border of the Av’ru, a ripple in the patterns of the Av’ru. This disturbance was investigated immediately and recorded in the official Library Periodicals. Further details of the investigation may be obtained in the Journals of Silini’s Warru First Tumbaya.
“ ‘The High Queen Silini was forced to ascend to become Av’rujo with the appearance of the Zehj’Ba, and in the cycle five thousand four hundred and fifty four, her daughter, Heir Jenikia sul Ava’Lon became High Queen.’ ”
“That’s it?” Staventu asked. “That’s not much of a reference.”
“It refers to the proper text in which to find the information we seek, Av’Son,” Pentuk said, closing the book. “I am merely starting at the point in our search that put the Heir on her present course.” She absently smoothed her light silk wrap, making the folds fall straight. “We were led to many other references, in fact, in our pursuit of the notion that the Heir had. And we found something very disturbing.”
“Perhaps you’d better start at the beginning, Pentuk,” Rukto said. “Tell exactly what put you and the Heir upon the trail that led you to your discovery.”
“Yes, Teacher. The Heir came to the Library a cycle and a half ago, very distraught after she learned of the High Queen’s intended ascent. Teacher Rukto assigned me to give her whatever aid she might require. She told me that she wanted to see every article of information about the Zehj’Ba that I could get my hands on, no matter how obscure. There are, of course, volumes and volumes of treatises, discussions, analyses, reports and dissertations about the Zehj’Ba. There are copies of almost every book and scroll in Ava’Lona here in this Library, and the mountain of works we accumulated was monumental. It was too much to handle on one table, with just the two of us. So we moved to one of the bigger lains of study and, with the help of many novices, we began to sort out the many and often conflicting documents. I do not think that such an extensive study of the Zehj’Ba has ever been conducted in all the cycles that we have been looking for its source. The Heir was truly tenacious - we got half way through the information we had gathered before she began to get frustrated.
“I suggested that perhaps if I knew more specifically what she was looking for, we might be able to find it more expediently by eliminating the texts that were obviously irrelevant. She then confided that she was looking for some hint to the cause of the Zehj’Ba. Then she asked me if there were any unusual events before the Zehj’Ba that might be related to or might give some clue of its cause. That’s when we ran across this reference. The closest event of an unusual nature preceding the Zehj’Ba is this disturbance, four cycles before. We thus turned our search in a new direction, and made our discovery of something that no one else seems to have been aware of.” She paused, let her eyes touch each of them to lend significance to her next words.
“All direct references that have detailed accounts of the investigation of the disturbance have either been lost or destroyed in some manner or other. To make a long search short, we found that all such manuscripts that might have given a clear description of the disturbance in all the Libraries within nearly twenty lons of the Ritous City have either been destroyed beyond recreation or rewritten, omitting the necessary information that we required.”
Staventu exclaimed and Otaga clucked her tongue in astonishment. Jarisa stared at the student Librarian and Rukto shook his head, obviously having heard about this before.
“How that escaped my predecessors’ notice is a mystery,” he said sadly.
“Every reference?” Staventu demanded, outraged. He had a love of herstory and of books, as did his siblings, and the loss of any materials saddened him. “Does Mother know about this?”
Pentuk nodded, also looking grieved. “Therefore, the Heir decided to investigate the Libraries of some of the more distant lons. It seems that the destruction and omission were deliberate, and quite thorough, in and around the Inner’lons. But whoever was responsible for this crime was not so meticulous when it came to the more distant lons. Perhaps she or he felt that the smaller Libraries of those lons were less likely to have very much information about what we were looking for and any losses from these places would be more noticeable. The perpetrator was for the most part correct; most of the Libraries farther out did not have texts that would go into as much detail as the ones here in the Crown City. But a few precious books managed to survive. In a Library in a distant Western lon the Heir found a text that described the investigation of the disturbance.” She held up a slim volume, dark with age and stiff from disuse. “In it the warru tells of an unusual creature being found near the Border immediately after the disturbance. He reported that the being was sent to the Ritious City. And four cycles later the Zehj’Ba began.”
“Too close for coincidence,” Otaga observed, shifting to her rest stance. She rested all her weight on one leg and then braced the other foot against her inner thigh, leaning on her spear.
“That is what the Heir thought also,” Pentuk said, glancing nervously at her teacher. She had been answering a lot of questions and was unsure whether she should continue or defer to the Head Librarian. He, however, seemed content to let her do the talking, for he only smiled and nodded encouragingly.
“So what happened?” Staventu asked. “The being was sent here, you said. What occurred once the being was brought to the Ritious City?”
Pentuk set the book down and spread her fingers on its cover. “That’s just the point, Av’Son. It is almost impossible to know. All the texts and references that describe what happened have been lost.”
Silence followed her words, as the full impact of what she was saying became clear. But she was not finished. “This proves that the destruction of all those manuscripts was deliberate, Av’Son. Someone with a great deal of influence wanted to keep whatever had occurred from ever being known. The Heir and I were a little suspicious when we found that text after text was missing on this subject. Books are lost or misplaced from time to time, but all of them?”
“So it is possible, or even likely, that the events surrounding this creature are linked to the Zehj’Ba,” Jarisa said, her face still showing profound shock. “And we have no way of knowing what those events were. Why would anyone try to keep us from knowing the source of the Zehj’Ba? Did that someone want the Av’ru to die?” She blew hard through her nose in frustration. “Did absolutely every single text on the subject come to such ends?”
Pentuk felt the blood leave her face as the Rite-binding broke. “Well, yes - uh, no, not exactly,” the young Librarian said, reluctantly. A second Rite-binding came to play, one that almost compelled her to tell what she knew once the first was gone. It was a fail-safe the Heir felt the need to place on her; for the Heir knew that if anything were to happen to her, the High Queen would send her brothers after her. Pentuk was suddenly the center of attention as all heads turned to her. Even her teacher stared at her, for he had not been aware of what she was about to say. “All the texts have been destroyed, except one.” She reached into a fold-pocket and extracted a very squat, thick volume that was bound in hardened, frayed silk and once fine leather. “I found this, quite by a
ccident in one of the storage areas. It was in a chest marked ‘old medical journals.’ I believe that’s why it was overlooked.” She could not meet her teacher’s eyes.
“You do have a flare for the dramatic, don’t you?” Staventu said, shaking his head. “What does it say?”
“Why wasn’t I informed of this?!” Rukto demanded, his outraged voice running over the Prince’s question. Staventu let it pass without comment.
Pentuk fell to her knees and crossed her wrists in supplication at her teacher’s obvious displeasure. “Please, Teacher, forgive me! The Heir told me not to tell anyone of it without one or both of her brothers present,” she begged softly, “and then, only if asked directly. She made me take the Rite of Silence about it, that could only be broken in the presence of the Av’Sons.”
“Don’t be cross with her, Rukto, she did not keep it from you on purpose,” Staventu placated the old scholar. Rukto nodded, though he still looked slightly put out. Pentuk glanced gratefully at Staventu as she slowly climbed back to her feet, and he answered with a small nod. He found that he liked the quiet, enigmatic young woman. He began to wonder what she was like under that shy exterior.
“But that looks like a personal journal of some sort, not an official warru journal,” Rilantu observed. “Does it have anything useful to say about our problem here?”
Pentuk carefully opened the book, dispensing this time with the rite of finding, out of respect for its age and fragility. Her hands shook.
“It is a personal journal, sires; the journal of one of the maddi of Jenikia sul Ava’Lon, written in the cycles right before her ascension to the High Throne. This woman had apparently been apprenticed to the royal ol’bey’woman in addition to her duties with the Heir Jenikia. It tells of the events surrounding the creature, or rather, as much of it as the maddi observed.” She proffered the tome to Staventu, but he shook his head and waved it away.
