by Mari Collier
The Abs ignored Is as he was too apt to incur Martin's wrath; a situation that could dramatically decrease their food allotments. Di pushed the people away from the posted work assignments and smiled at him.
“Read aloud, Is, so that all may hear.”
As she turned, she saw the breadth of Llewellyn, Maca of Don, and his face was stern. Behind him stood his laddie, the blind-eyed one, his grey eyes like slate glaring at a hostile world, and in his hands was a Justine sprayer. She saw Llewellyn point at her and heard him roar, “Speak.”
Unable to disobey, she turned to the crowd and raised her arms. “People of Thalia listen to me. I am the Kenning Woman appointed by Gar. Llewellyn, Maca of Don, is returning with his blind-eyed laddie to free Thalia and complete the revenge of LouElla.” Her arms dropped down and she swayed back and forth not hearing the gasps and the laughter rippling through the crowd. There had been no prolonged vision, but the words had flown from her mouth.
Is scooped up Wee Da and put his free arm around Di, pulling her back, away from the crowd, guiding her toward the back streets. It was time to hide again. Their progress was interrupted by the Lad of Don, his dark, blue hat sat jauntily on his head hiding the graying hair, and he smelled of the brew he had been drinking. He stood well over six feet, had the straight even features of Don, and he still possessed the body of a Thalian warrior. His withered right arm was held against his side, but he raised his left hand to halt them.
“If ye run in the streets with your wee one and your companion, they will find ye.”
Is trusted this man of Don, one of the last of the surviving warriors from the Justine War. As the last of the House of Don, Lamar should have been Guardian of Don. His laddie or lassie would have become the next Maca, but the Justines had taken his seed when they withered his arm. Now he passed his time talking with old friends or drinking the Rurhran brew offerings from the Houses. Is had not spoken with him since being condemned to the life of an Ab.
“Lamar, can ye think of where we should go? There will be Army and Betron Enforcers looking to drag her before the Council.”
“Ye should nay go back where ye were lodged.” He used his left arm to point over towards the unused streets. “They ken where ye were hid. I heard that from my Counselor.
“Ye,” and he pointed at Is, “should take the wee laddie to the Handmaiden. She will care for him, and then ye may stay at the Ab compound or wander the streets. If they ask about this one, ye can truthfully say she ran off.
“And ye,” he turned and smiled at Di, “will come with me. We will saunter back towards the port and find a friend of mine.”
“Nay!” Di snapped at him, her brown eyes determined.
“I am still a bit of a strategist.” Lamar favored them with a smile and ran his left hand down his chest. “They will nay look for ye so close to the official gathering.”
“Mayhap he tis right, Di. If the Sisterhood kens where we lodge, there tis nay safety there. They will nay look for ye in House.”
“Aye,” Lamar broke in. “They will think ye are cowering like a Kreppie in some back alley.” He smiled inwardly with satisfaction as Di snapped her head up, kissed Da, and handed him to Is.
“How long am I to hide?”
“Nay, long. My friend will arrange a way to transport ye elsewhere and get the message back to the Handmaiden for your wee one.”
Di took a deep breath. “Let's go.”
Lamar used his left hand to grasp her arm and they walked back towards the port, Di walking nearest the buildings.
Di was as tall as Lamar and they matched each other's step as they made their way to what was left of the shops in Bretta. Lamar propelled her into a brew hall reserved for House members and their highest ranking retainers. The few patrons gave a guarded look and ignored them, although later the gossip would spread that Lamar was bedding outside of his marriage vows for they had seen him guide an Ab woman into the hallway towards the lift.
Inside the lift Di closed her eyes and expelled a huge gust of air. She had not dared to breathe while walking across the floor with so many eyes flicking toward her and then snapping back to their companions as though she did not exist. In truth, House members never really looked at Abs anyway. The thought stirred something in her being. Why was this prominent House member helping her? Was it because she had predicted that Don would be restored and he was grateful? The door slid open for them.
“The lift tis safer than the stairs. We are going to the second room to your right.” Lamar leaned his head in that direction as they stepped from the lift. “Hurry now.”
Di matched his steps, but once again her mind nagged at her. How did he so conveniently have this room waiting? Had there truly been time enough? The door opened at his touch and he stepped in, nodding his head in approval.
“Aye, Rollie was right. This tis a good place. The windows are lightly tinted. Ye can see the street below, but others canna see ye. I suggest ye nay look too oft or someone might catch your shadow and realize ye are hiding here.”
Di stepped into the room. “Do ye mean Rollie, Counselor of Rurhran?”
Lamar looked at her. “Who else would I mean? I shall be back in less than an hour with the arrangements.”
He smiled at her and ran his left hand up over the muscles on her arm. “Ye have a magnificent warrior's body.” He bowed his head and stepped outside and turned as he put his palm on the keypad. His eyes softened as he looked at her.
“Tis almost a pity.” And the door slid shut.
Di looked around the room. She realized this was a trap, and she needed a way out. The furniture was soft and round, ready to accommodate those who wished to relax or engage in a bedding away from prying eyes. She pushed some of the heavy, ornate golden chairs against the door. Rurhran's color was gold; at least Lamar had not lied about that, but why, why? Did Lamar nay wish Don to be restored? She finally settled on the round solid, molded table as the only weapon available.
She turned the table over and leaned all her weight down on the leg: it held, the rim of the table coming up from the floor. She had less than an hour. How long would it take to break the window reinforced with protective metals from Ayran? Di lifted the table and aimed one of the legs directly at the center of the window, then rammed it into the metal infused glass. Nothing. Again and again she rammed the leg against the window, sweat started to gather in beads on her forehead and body, and time lost its meaning. Suddenly there was a crinkling noise, overridden by a burning smell. She whirled to face the door and realized the Sisters must have been given permission to up the charge in their stunners, or else it was Kreppies that were after her. Fear put strength into the next ramming and the window started to crack into fine glazed pieces.
Blue flame licked at the side of the table and she flung the table back towards them. Di jumped up and through the window, using her left shoulder to break through the last of the glass. Too late she remembered she was on the second floor and there was nay time to tuck and roll to correct her landing.
Chapter 4: The Handmaiden
Is held the squirming Da and started towards the Ab compound, his thoughts bitter at the turn of events. He had walked less than a mile when he met the Handmaiden hurrying towards the backstreets and hailed her.
The Handmaiden turned her dumpy figure, fully encased in a brown robe, and let out a gasp at the sight of them.
“Did they get her already?”
“Nay.” He stepped closer to her so his words would nay carry. “She has gone with Lamar, Lad of Don, to another place. I am to give Da to ye.” Is tried to hand Da to her, but she refused to take him.
“Where did they go?”
“I dinna. Lamar said that a friend was waiting and that betwixt them they would send her elsewhere.”
“Folly!” came out of the Handmaiden's heavy face. She was barely one hundred years of age, but she resembled the Ayran Abs rather than the Ayran Warriors with her dumpy body and face set with small black eyes. Her thin
black hair was covered by a brown scarf. “Which way did they go?”
“Towards the port. Lamar was certain they would nay look for her there.”
The Handmaiden lifted her long robe in both hands and ran towards the port.
Is shrugged and followed as Da bellowed in his ear, “I want Mither.”
They were almost to the main section where the rounded shops were two or three stories high when they heard the breaking glass. Is stopped to look up and his heart hammered in his chest. Di hurdled out of the second floor of the building in front of them and dropped to the cement, landing on her left side. A wild keening noise erupted from the Handmaiden's throat and she rushed to the fallen woman. Two of the Sisterhood looked down from the broken window and then disappeared.
Is hurried to where the Handmaiden stood disrobing herself.
“Help me move her onto this,” she hissed at him. Then clad in her thong and strap and still keening, she knelt beside Di.
“Ye have killed my beloved! Ye are wicked, wicked! Oh, my magnificent Di, my love,” and her wails grew louder. A crowd of Abs and Tris began to encircle them, hoping to catch more of the drama. Di's left arm was bloody and immobile. Blood was coming from her left side, her left leg horribly bent, and blood flowed from her nose and mouth.
The Handmaiden looked up at him. “Quickly, I must wrap her. The world should nay see her like this.” There was desperation in her voice, and Is knelt, not sure what the Handmaiden was planning.
He stood Da beside them and asked. “Won't we hurt her more?”
“Ye canna hurt the dead, and even had she lived, there tis nay medical for Abs.” The Handmaiden glared at him and put her hands under Di's shoulders. Is put his hands under her hips, feeling the familiar rounding wrenched at his stomach and he closed his eyes.
“Lift,” commanded the Handmaiden.
Together they moved Di's body onto her robe, and the Handmaiden used her belt to tie the gown around the inert body. Is wanted to believe he'd heard a moan when they moved her, but he could nay see if her eyes were closed or open.
The Handmaiden bent lower and ran her hand over both eyes. “There, I have closed her lids,” she announced to the world as two of the black clad Sisters burst through, moving the crowd back.
The sight of the Handmaiden stopped them, and they glanced at the predominantly Ab crowd. They kenned that any move against the Handmaiden would ensure a riot.
“All we need to do is make sure she does nay speak again,” said the one with the rank of Sargent.
The Handmaiden looked up at them. “I have already closed her eyes, and the blood has stopped flowing.”
Is looked down at Di. How had the Handmaiden worked that miracle? He listened to her words.
“Since she tis Ab, she tis my responsibility. This Ab,” and she waved her hand at Is, “will help me move her to the compound. The burning will be in the morn. Please, request that the Byre Berm be open. Ye may bring word to Martin this eve about the time of the burning tomorrow.”
She turned back to Is. “Put the laddie on your shoulders, and we will carry her home.”
Is picked up the wailing child and whispered to him, and then set him on his shoulders. Wee Da continued to cry, but hung on to his hair. Is nodded at the Hand Maiden, and together they lifted Di and began the long walk to the Ab compound. Inside he was shaking. It would not have surprised him if the Sisters had arrested him and sent him to the mines of Ayran. In his mind, he blessed the Handmaiden for his salvation from that indignity.
The sun still beat its rays against the world when they staggered in, their burden sagging badly. The few Abs that were there stared at them and then broke into fierce whispers.
“She's dead.”
“The Kenning Woman has been punished.”
“Gar took her.”
“Nay, it was the Sisterhood.”
“The Sisterhood hated her.”
The Handmaiden led the way through the chattering Abs to the Healing Quarter, and one of the male Abs pulled open the door for them, stood back respectfully, and closed the door after they entered the hall.
“We'll take her to the back room. There tis already one dead woman there.” She stalked through the first room with its crude stools and tables and brushed aside the curtain. They laid Di on one of the tables that lined the room, and Is removed Da from his shoulders, his chest heaving from the walk. The Handmaiden's dumpy figure belied her strength as she was breathing normally.
In the middle of the room was another table already occupied by an older, dead Ab woman. She was skinny, wrinkled, and her open mouth gave the observer a view of missing and broken teeth while her unclosed eyes looked up at the dingy ceiling.
“Help me move this table over to the middle of the room,” commanded the Handmaiden. Both of them ignored the squalls from Da. Once the table was beside the other one, the Handmaiden picked up Da and whispered to him.
“Your mither can nay hear ye. Ye must remember how much she loved ye. Now kiss her one last time.”
She held Da down to Di's face, and he tried pulling her hair to wake her while screaming, “Mither.”
The Handmaiden pulled him away and gave him back to Is. “Take him to my laddie, and tell Pi to put Da with Ka. They are close enough to the same age and may console each other. Then have Pi bring me another robe. I'll nay be able to wear that one again.” She motioned to the table where Di lay wrapped in her gown.
Is nodded and was about to leave when the curtain was swept open by Martin's staff of authority, and the brown-robed Martin entered the room. His grey hair was mostly gone, but what was left fell in wispy lengths to his shoulders. He cultivated a beard, but his attempt was thwarted by the nature of Thalians. The beard, like his hair, was sparse and grey. It fell in strands from his cheeks and chin giving him a grimed, striped appearance.
The Handmaiden pointed at the opening. “Ye may nay enter here. I have work to do and am nay clothed.”
“The Sisterhood wishes assurance that the false Kenning Woman has died ere they deliver tomorrow's food allotment. I must verify this.”
“Ye just did. Use your nose as tis the stink of death that dwells here. Ye may tell them their treachery has killed the magnificent Di. Now go away as tending the dead tis my province.” Tears were rolling down both sides of her face, but her voice did not waver.
Martin twitched his long beak of a nose, glanced at the table and saw no movement. He noted the yellow pallor of the face that comes from losing too much blood and saw the pooled, thick blood and the death stains spread on the robe. He shrugged, nodded at her, and walked out.
The Handmaiden's shoulders slumped, but she had two more orders for Is. “Once ye have given Da to Pi, ye are to find Ki. She tis supposed to be here helping with her mither or her brither. Ye must also find the Ab sea captain, Bi, who sails from Don this eve. Ke's casket goes with his sailing, and I must have her ready. They will nay need Di's body until tomorrow. Bi was here, but has probably gone with Ki to some swill room. Now go.”
She turned away from him and picked up a bucket of water and some strips of cloth. The bucket she placed on the floor next to one of the tables and the cloths on the table. She then began to clean the dead.
Is held the crying Da and stepped out of that dimly lit room; relief then sorrow swept over his face. The eating hour was approaching and more Abs were in the compound, but they had lost interest now that death was accomplished. He carried Da through the empty rooms to where the younger laddies had their sleeping quarters, and found the thirteen-year-old Pi holding ten-year old Ka in his arms. Pi was fairly tall for someone of Ayran descent. His upper was body slender, but he had the wide hips and heavy thighs of Ayran. Is handed Da to him.
“Ye are to put him with Ka so that they may console each other over the loss of their mithers. Once ye have them calmed down, ye are to take your mither a clean robe as she has nay on but her strap and thong.”
Sadness shadowed Pi's dark eyes as he reached for the
wailing Da and put him next to Ka. Ka was red-eyed, but had stopped crying some time ago. He put his arms around Da, and they clung to each other. After a few minutes, Pi decided it was safe to leave and entered the small, neat room he shared with his mother. He took the spare robe from the hook and hurried to the Healing Quarters. Since Abs were never given medical treatment, Pi thought of it as the Death Quarter. He took a deep breath and entered.
“Make sure that curtain tis locked in place.”
His mother's voice brooked no questions, and he used the tags at the bottom and top to keep it from blowing or being pulled aside. He turned to greet his mother and saw the position of the box for Ke and the tears streaking down his mother's face. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a big O.
Chapter 5: The Justine Refuge
The Captain of Flight looked at those seated around the command center. His Director of Flight was to his right, her mouth in a straight line, and her muscles rigid. His Second in Command was to his left. The rest of the command staff was his Second's various blood kin into the third generation. All but one were descendants of the Captain's own dear Earth counselor, Anna. They numbered nine; six men and three women. Red O'Neal was seated at his Director's right. Red twas related to his Second in Command through their biological Justine fither. O'Neal's title was Captain, although he had requested Commodore, a notion rejected by the others.
