by Lori Martin
“Why did they fight?”
Pillyn gestured to the book chest. “Go and find a map, and I’ll show you. Yes, I think there’s one under there. Now look.” She spread the map out on her knees, the boy leaning over her shoulder. “Here’s Lindahne, with the sea on two sides, and the Five Hills. Here’s the palace, Marlos-An, in the valley, right? The gods gave all of this to us, and look after us.”
“And that’s the Valtah, the river no one can cross ‘cause it goes too fast.”
“Right. Do you know where our house is?”
He pointed to the Third Hill.
“Yes, over here. Now here –” she pointed to the boundary lines –
“this is where Mendale begins.”
“What’s this in between?”
“Well, that doesn’t really belong to anybody. It was set up after the last war.”
“So why,” he repeated, “did they fight?”
“Well, you see, the Mendales wanted more land, and they tried to expand onto ours. But we couldn’t let them get that close, because there’s an open passage here. See it? And it leads almost directly into our valley to the palace. It would be very dangerous to have the Mendales in control of that.”
“They could capture the palace?”
“That’s what we were afraid of. So we fought them, and we won. And then we had this area set up as a kind of buffer. Do you know what a buffer is? Good. So now the royals send patrols out into the foothills here to make sure they keep to the agreement.”
There was a tap on the door, and Rendell stuck his head in. “Pillyn, have you seen Temhas?”
“He doesn’t tell me where he’s going. Wait! Baili’s asking me about the Mendales.”
“Have you ever seen any?” the boy asked.
“No.” Rendell came back into the room and inspected their map. “Some of the people on the Second Hill have, because they trade with them.”
“They do?” He was delighted. “For poisons?”
Pillyn rolled her eyes. “He’s got it in his head that they use poison arrows.”
“I understand that they did, in the war. That was about forty-five years ago, Baili, in the time of King Raynii’s father. But since then we’ve had peace.”
“A pie seller told him it’s because the Mendales are afraid of us.”
“Then the pie seller doesn’t appreciate what the royals have really done. Come now, Pilla, you ought to know this. Don’t they teach you anything at the counsella?”
She looked sheepish. Baili grinned.
“All right, children, come to order,” Rendell said with a smile. “Now you know that long, long ago, before anyone can remember, the Lindahnes and Mendales were the same people, and we are still alike in many ways.”
“But they’re heretics,” Pillyn put in.
“What does that mean?”
“It means they don’t honor the gods, Bai. Do you remember the story in the Book, of how they were punished, and wandered out beyond our Hills? They became a separate country. And there’s been constant warfare between us for centuries,” Rendell said. “Even now, we still have to train to fight. I had to go. You will too, and so will Pillyn, when you’re older. It’s so we can defend ourselves if we have to. But King Raynii and Queen Ayenna did a remarkable thing when they came to power. They weren’t satisfied simply with having no war. They wanted a real peace.”
“They started sending ambassadors, didn’t they?” Pillyn asked.
“Yes. After every change in Holds, we send an ambassador to assure the Mendales that the basic royal policy is the same. The king will be sending one soon, in fact. They don’t understand our system very well; they’re ruled by three people called the Trio, not a royal family. King Raynii was the first to encourage trading with them, and to try to overlook any heresy. He wants us to trust each other. And it’s worked. We’re a lucky generation.”
Pillyn asked shrewdly, “Then why do you think there have been bad signs?”
Rendell’s face clouded over. He didn’t answer.
“I’d like to meet a Mendale,” Baili said dreamily. “Just to see if they’re real.”
“Do you think we made them up for your benefit?” She tickled him. The boy yanked on her hair and then leaped away as she shrieked. Pillyn chased him to the bed, where they wrestled, yelping and laughing. In moments a full-fledged pillow fight had broken out.
“Here now,” Rendell laughed. The combatants exchanged looks. Seeing it, Rendell broke for the door, but the two caught him on the threshold and pillow-pounded him unmercifully.
Temhas sat stretched out on the low stone wall, watching the moon. The estate was Sillus’s, and from the house windows the palace could be seen: Marlos-An, shining in the darkness of the valley. Temhas twisted between his teeth a long blade of bengrass, the dark green grass that grew only in the valley’s soil.
“Fathers,” his companion was saying, “are a necessary evil.” Carden, Dalleena’s cousin, sat with both legs dangling off the wall, his back propped up against a tree.
“I doubt if they’re even necessary,” said Temhas. “After conception, of course. But certainly, once you’ve reached manhood ... “ The thought drifted off into the night.
“Well, I need mine, to advance at court. But if only he’d stop pushing me about the relas!”
“She didn’t look half bad. Not really beautiful ... but attractive. Dancing like that.” Temhas shifted the blade to the other side of his mouth.
“You wouldn’t have gotten close enough to see her without me,” Carden reminded him. Although he liked his new friend, he was never one to forget a debt owed to him. His dark hair surrounded a sulky, petulant face.
“I know.”
“Creeping about the garden like that!” Carden shook with laughter, remembering. “What were you going to do, break in? To the palace, during the festival? Oh Mother of Simsas, that would have been good! You’d have been clapped into chains in five minutes.”
“I could have had an honest invitation, if my father hadn’t destroyed it,” Temhas said. “And you weren’t such a noble spectacle yourself, when I met you hiding in the gardens from the paternal wrath.”
Carden frowned. “He acts as if it’s my fault he’ll never be king.”
“Well, to him I guess it is, if you don’t marry the relas.” Carden, glad enough of a sympathetic ear, had taken Temhas into his confidence.
“But Dalleena hates me! I wouldn’t mind – as you say, she’s attractive enough – but I tell you, I’m almost afraid of her. She’s got such eyes, and she just glares at me all the time.”
“She certainly ignored you at the festival.”
“Too wrapped up in your brother,” Carden said.
Temhas’s eyes narrowed. Contrary to what he had said to Rendell, he had seen his brother with the relas. Carden had obligingly gotten him into the hall, and in the crowd it had been easy to stay out of Rendell’s sight.
“Besides,” Carden added, “Even if I married Dalleena and succeeded to the Chair, I’d be king. Not my father.”
Temhas said nothing. Carden is useful, he thought, and pleasant enough company, but he is really rather stupid. He’s under Sillus’s thumb. If his son ever got the Chair, Sillus would rule in all but name. But what would happen during the relas’s Holds? She didn’t look like someone who could be pushed around. He threw away the bengrass.
“Fathers!” Carden said in despair.
“Fathers,” Temhas echoed, thinking: and brothers.
CHAPTER 6
–from the Book of the Gods
And Light once was, all brightness, all glittering air. The Light lay upon the Waters, and in their love they had two children. The first was Earth, born from beneath the Waters, and it rose and lived. Earth flowered and from it came the trees, and grass, and the swiftly flowing rivers. The second was born of the sparks of light upon the waters, and so was called Fire. From Fire came Sun, and their children were Night, and Darkness, and the Stars.
The
thousand Stars did love, and their children were the sprites, the spirits in the sky and groves and streams, who blow the wind and shake the snow from the heavens. For their pleasure, the sprites created the animals, to roam the earth, and fish to swim the seas, and birds to fly the currents of the air. And the ever-burning Sun loved the never-ending Darkness, and so their children were the gods, the immortal ones.
These then were Nialia and Proseras, who rule the world, and none may defy their powers. Armas of Strength was born, and winged Wintern, and the dark brother who keeps within the depths of the earth, and in their halls the sprites wait on them, and sing their songs.
The sons of Proseras and Nialia, born at one birth, were Simsas and Reulas, gods of the musician and the poet. And the other gods did love, and were born: Ditta of Joy, and Rena, goddess of Love, and Heila of the harvest, and her daughter Ferra of the Fields, and fiery Nilsor, god of Anger and War, and his son Envy, and all the host of the divine heavens. The sprites waited on them, and sometimes wedded with them, and from these unions came the patron deity of each House of our land. The god Thaedra was born of Simsas’s love for a wood sprite, and he built the shining marble palace in the valley, and called it Marlos-An; and he has guarded the royals for all of mortal time, in the shade of the temple of his grandmother, goddess of Fate.
And the royals of the Lindahnes rule over the beloved people of the gods, the only people who remained faithful, after the birth of Sanlin.
Now the sprites had created other life, to amuse Proseras, who in his wisdom is sometimes too grave. He delighted in the winged birds that fly the currents of the air, and the animals who roam the earth, and the fish who swim the seas.
“Look you,” said Nialia to her husband. “Here are the creations of the spites, and they are a delight to the earth and the heavens. But let us make true life, which has a soul, and knows of itself, to worship and bring us sacrifice. They shall be ours, and we shall cherish them.”
So Proseras took cloud and running water, and Nialia added earth and fire, and they shaped it, and breathed life into the form, and it split in twain, still forming, and became Man and Woman, and so, at the beginning, were they one, as they are in love and death. And the Royal Couple of the heavens gave the man and woman all the gifts of the earth, and cherished them. And they had children, who had children, and so humanity spread out upon the land ...
CHAPTER 7
Dalleena looked down the length of the wood table in the Council Room. The official meeting was over, but the king remained at the head of the table, pondering a list of names.
“It’s going to be a problem,” he said. “None of these people have as much experiences with the Mendales as they should.”
“They’re the best you’re going to find. Pick one and have done,” Queen Ayenna answered. “The only Lindahnes who really know Mendales are the craft traders on the First and Second. But you can hardly send one of them as an ambassador.”
“I understand there was some sort of little problem at one of the markets last week,” Sillus put in. The king’s brother was the only other person in the room.
“Just the usual arguments that break out from time to time,” Raynii said. “A Lindahne calls a Mendale a heretic, and he answers in kind. Nothing serious.”
Sillus took his pipe out from the folds of his cloak and began to pack it. “Yes, well, I suppose it has to happen, if we trade with these people.”
He was a smooth-moving man, his voice silky and rarely raised, except to his son. He was younger than Raynii, his hair and beard still dark, but his heavy build betrayed a taste for rich living that spoiled his looks. Dalleena noticed again, as she had a thousand times, his quiet capacity for annoying her parents. Although he continually protested his undying affection for his brother and an understanding of his policies, he spent most of his time undermining them. The famous peace that the royal couple had striven so long and hard for meant nothing to him.
“There’s Praesla,” Raynii said, ignoring the remark. The afternoon was just beginning; he still had patience. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“And a quick tongue in his mouth,” Ayenna said. “An ambassador is most useful when he listens, not when he talks. We’re really starting to feel Minda’s loss, aren’t we? She always came back from Mendale with useful information, and I think they respected her. Whoever you pick as the next ambassador is going to find it difficult to follow her.”
“Poor woman.”
“She certainly went quickly,” Sillus said. “No one really expected her illness to turn so fast and kill her.”
“Dalleena did,” her father said. She felt their eyes on her.
“Really?” Her uncle’s voice registered careful surprise and just enough of a trace of disbelief. “Why didn’t you do something?”
She forced an easy smile. “Such as what, uncle? I’m not trained as a healer. She had the best possible care. Knowing it will happen doesn’t mean I can prevent it.”
Ayenna cleared her throat. “We seem to be losing sight of the problem. Why don’t you read us all the names, Raynii, and we’ll see if anyone strikes us.”
“Well, most of them are your suggestions anyway, my dear. There’s Reddler of the Fifth, Lillus of the Fourth, Naarsae of the Fourth ...”
Dalleena’s attention wandered. The process of governing seemed to move slower and slower in the days following the festival. In the mornings she wandered close to the temple of Nialia, helping the novices with their maintenance tasks (to their astonishment) but rarely venturing into the sanctuary. Her last visit there, coupled with her vision at the festival, still left its mark. At night before she fell into sleep, she felt again Rendell’s hands on her shoulders, trying to call her out of her seeing.
“... Boessus of the Third ...”
Her eyes snapped back to her father. Too quickly, she said, “He seems a good choice.”
“Oh, he’s a good man. This would be something of a step up for him, an ambassadorship, but he’s capable. A little hot-tempered with familiars, but not with strangers – ”
“Send him, then.” Her voice had risen too high. Sillus, in the act of relighting his pipe, turned to look at her.
“It’s not quite that simple. I don’t believe he’s a well man, and the trip’s a hard one. He coughs and clutches at his chest, and has trouble breathing. Now that I think of it, was he even at the festival, Ayenna?”
“No,” the queen said, and she too was watching Dalleena. “He was too ill. But his son came.”
“I don’t remember the boy. Who is he?”
There was a moment’s pause as Ayenna hesitated. Sillus took his opportunity.
“His name is Rendell,” he said mildly, blowing a puff of smoke. “Rendell Armasii.”
The commotion in the house had been apparent even from a distance. Baili pushed into the kitchen (for once, the cook was nowhere in sight) and headed to the Great Room at the back of the building. He was almost knocked down on the threshold by a serving girl who flew past him, gasping, “I do beg your pardon, young master!”
The room was in chaos. Trunks and carrying cases littered the floor and furniture. Servants carrying armfuls of clothes rushed back and forth, taking orders from Rendell, who stood by the fireplace waving his arms. Temhas, indifferent, sat on the windowsill, ignoring the flurry.
Old man Boessus looks a bit better, Baili thought. Boessus was standing hands on hips, looking pleased with himself. His face looked a little less drawn and gaunt than usual; the thin frame looked more able to carry its flesh.
Through the babble Baili heard Pillyn’s clear voice. She was in a corner, trying to stuff a long cape into an already overburdened packcase. Her maid-girl had just clambered on top to pull the strap closed when the leather sides ripped down the seams.
“By all the gods,” Pillyn groaned, and sank down to the floor.
“What’s going on?” Baili demanded, having made his way carefully across the room. “Are you going on a trip?”
“Bai, you must have been touched by Nialia the other night when you asked about the Mendales,” Pillyn gasped. “Because that’s where we’re going.”
“To Mendale?” he shrieked in excitement. “All of you?”
“No, just Father and me. The king’s picked him as ambassador! But I don’t know – I don’t know if he can stand the trip.” She glanced at her father, who had stifled a cough. “It’s an honor, and of course he’s very proud, but who knows what the conditions will be like? I begged and begged Rendell to come –”
“Doesn’t he want to?”
“No, he’s just being so stubborn! And Temhas laughed at the very idea when I suggested it – said he’d have nothing to do with it. Do be careful, Bai, you’re stepping on my clothes.” The maid-girl was trying frantically to gather up the scattered clothing. Baili ducked out of her way as Pillyn continued her rather incoherent explanations.
“I told Rendell that Father’s health has to be looked after, but he wouldn’t come, and then Father got so angry with me! ‘I don’t need anyone taking care of me!’ After that he wouldn’t have let either of them come if they had wanted to, which they didn’t. I had to beg him just to take me. Not that I want to meet Mendales – heretics – but someone has to watch him whatever he says. And so I told them we’re going to pack every piece of warm clothing in the house, but how will we ever get it all in the packcases?” she wailed. Baili ignored this.
“Will you be there a long time?”
“Well, it takes a month to get there, more if there’s snow, and then of course we have to stay for quite a while – and another month back – it could be half a year.”
The boy’s eyes widened, both at the thought of the separation and at the thrill of Mendale. “Oh, Pilla,” he pleaded, borrowing the nickname Rendell used, “please take me! M’brother won’t mind! Please!”
“But Bai –”
“Please!” In his agony he threw himself across the floor into Rendell’s knees. “Please, Rendell, can’t I go with them?”
