by Janet Morris
Astria gets first choice among potential well-women, after the Day-Keepers have taken what they desire from the fruit of Silistra’s wombs. At first maturity, they test and rate the girls, and make their ratings available to the Wells. From everywhere upon Silistra, excepting the Parset Lands, do women come to Astria. Of all Silistran women of childbearing age, these were the finest. And now they went to Nemar, the pick of them. I wagered some formidable spawn would come of that mixing. Such women would much enrich the Nemarsi.
Many who were chosen, I knew. There is not a great turnover in wellwomen, normally. It takes an average of fourteen years to get one with child. I felt assured that in Nemar it would not take so long. I saw a woman passed over, and another chosen in her place. The jiask’s choice had not such momentous breasts as the reject, but she was sweet of disposition, and her bones were neatly turned. I would have done no different, were I he, did I have his predilection for bones.
Chayin and Sereth, after much discussion, had limited them to one apiece. It was past mid-meal when the last of the twenty-one jiasks had chosen. Chayin took none, nor did Sereth or Lalen. When Wiraal chided the cahndor, Chayin regarded him icily.
“I will have enough to do to look out for my own life, as will we all these next few days. No woman goes out of here until we have victory upon the plain. I will have Hael’s head in my hand before any jiask lay claim to his spoils.” He said it quite loud, in that roaring dorkat voice of his, and the men, muttering, put their women together upon a single neck chain to await that event.
Further, Chayin demanded of his men that they abstain from drugs other than uris, and that they stay out of the drink room. No women, no danne, no kifra until he rescinded his order. Then he strode from the room. Sereth, from where he stood with those we had left unbound, ran through the captives after him.
If Sereth had not put me with Lalen, I would have gone myself. But Lalen could not leave Celendra, and he could not leave me, by Sereth’s order. Nor was he anxious to drag her along behind. She leaned, quiet, perhaps uncomprehending, against the white gol. Understandably, Lalen would not chance rousing her. We waited.
There is only the battle left to tell, and how I came to be here. My memories fade from me as if they were a Parset carpet and someone stood at the start of my life, rolling it up, slowly and with infinite care.
We saw Jaheil’s yra’s camp upon the plain under the light of the cresent-bound moon. I stood with Chayin and Sereth, upon the Keepress’ overlook. We had broken Celendra’s M’ksakkan crystal to get out there. It views not the Inner Well, but southeasterly the Astrian plain.
They had been, all day long, absorbed in the details of conquest and impending battle. Enths they had been gone together, leaving me with Lalen, and when they returned, their eyes were shadowed.
The men were tense, alternately boisterous and withdrawn. They ate little. They watered their women. They worked upon their gear. Sereth and Chayin and Wiraal roamed among them, among their captives. Celendra waxed hysterical, and Chayin gagged her once more. He did not, however, put her with Nemar’s new crells upon the chain.
I sat long upon the floor by Lalen’s knee. I mourned in silence, and the fear passed out of me. Free of it, I started what was my true work here. I cuddled my hest to me, and gave it strength. I sought Hael, and found him close enough. And found Raet, as I had expected.
Cold I was, by that time. I had not blinked in a quarter-enth. Upon the gol before my eyes was the sense of him, a door to where he was, if you will. I gave him civil greeting, in his own tongue. The flame glow licked around his bronze face, those eyes that have suns for centers assessed me, and he gave his cousin greeting. Raet, son of Kystrai, who was a brother of my father, acknowledged me. My father’s daughter’s brother, great-grandmother Astria had called him when she read my path more than 842 years ago. Raet was that, also; born of the same womb as Esyia, my half-sister. But relationship breeds more than love, when inheritance is concerned. Raet and Esyia had certain flaws in their makeup. Mi’ystens are powerful, but they cannot make worlds, nor stars. They would like to have the space world wiped clean, that they might set their own creations upon them. I had made a world. A paltry world, true, but a world. Raet knew. He acknowledged me. Never before had he done so.
I reiterated my position to him. I would not step aside. I called him by the name through which he ruled in the south—Tar-Kesa.
He stated his intent, as was proper. He called me by my true name, that of the sevenfold spirit.
“Upon the plain of Astria, at sun’s rising?” He begged my pleasure, as time called us both elsewhere.
“Upon the plain of Astria,” I affirmed. The gol was only gol, the door closed in upon itself. My eyes burned and teared.
‘What?” I asked Sereth.
“Come with me,” he said, extending his dark-tanned hand. “I have something to show you.” His eyes were narrowed. Sereth’s sharpness had not missed my absence.
I got up, too soon. My numbed limbs were clumsy. He caught me. Chayin stood there, grinning. This time, with Raet, there had been no bargaining, no threats, no offer of quarter. No longer was I flesh toy to him. I smiled to myself, and stood upon my own. If he thought me so much, perhaps I underestimated my chances.
“Slowly,” said Chayin, and called me by that name he could only have known from Raet’s mouth.
“There is a chance,” I said to him, “that one might get hurt, doing such things.” I straightened and stood unsupported, brushing my hair from my face.
“Jaheil approaches,” Sereth said, looking between us. “I thought you might like to see it.”
“I would,” I confirmed, and got upon my toes to kiss him. His arms went around me. Over his shoulder I saw Celendra, still gagged, watching dull-eyed.
The three of us walked the halls of Astria together, and those stairs that led to my old keep.
“What of Rin?” I asked, as we gained the fourth floor.
“No sign. And the sanctity of Feast of Conception”—his teeth flashed—“has not been broken.”
“And if Rin will not fight Hael for you?”
“Then we will fight him ourselves,” growled Chayin. “Those Slayers will only take the edge off of Hael’s men, if what I saw here was any indicator.”
“Whichever way, if they engage each other, those they kill are that many fewer to worry about. If the Slayers win, we fight them. If they lose, we fight Hael. Probably a little of both,” said Sereth, not overly concerned. He fairly quivered in eagerness.
I watched him with a dull feeling as we climbed. Detached, as my power came to call, I found myself empty of thought, silent. Within me there was for the first time a sense of order. All that I had become, poised ready, like a rack of weapons, sharp and fine. I found I was curious, eager, even, to test those strengths that had place only against their like. I tasted kill-lust. It is stronger than uris, and doubtless more habituating.
We strode through the halls, of one mind. All life takes life to survive. They kill their own kind, the survivors. One respects death, as life. There is much after what we know as life, but, that is no reason to value life low. The lessons that are firstly given are given here. The foundation must be strong if the building will stand. I did not seek death upon the plain. I did not suddenly come to value my life low. I was only not fearful for it.
With Chayin on one side of me and Sereth upon the other, I walked Well Astria’s halls much changed. In my old chamber I no longer craved the past. As the men, only the moment concerned me. That and what could be made from it.
“There,” said Sereth, turning me just south of east. I had stepped carefully through the jagged shards of crystal, still adhering to their frame, and positioned myself west. I looked for Jaheil also in the south. He had not come through the Skirr, by Datur pass. He had not come from the southwest, along the treacherous coastal cliffs.
Amused, Sereth turned me, the Shaper’s cloak whipping in the night breeze.
“I do not s
ee anything. There is nothing east of here but the Litess and the sea. Both Day-Keepers and Slayers are south of east.”
“Nevertheless,” Chayin said, leaning close, his arm extended, “there is Jaheil.”
I strained my eyes in the clear moonlit night. The plains of Astria swell gently, like some ever-frozen sea. I was no Parset. In the full moon I might have done better. In the waning crescent, Chayin had to direct my gaze.
“See them. The light comes back off their metal.” And where he indicated, less than an enth’s ride, I saw them. Once shown, the mass of them moving, dark-twinkling against lighter dark, was not difficult to follow.
“How from the east?” I demanded.
“We will let Jaheil tell you, mighty seeress.” Chayin chortled.
“He did not!”
“Did not what?” Sereth queried me.
Chayin threw a leg over the overlook’s hip-high guard wall.
“How?” I demanded of him.
“What other way?” he answered. “Dordassa North is a port. It was much easier upon the threx to trek them to Dordassa North, load them upon barges, deposit them upon the banks of the Litess, and ride them that little way here.”
“Barges?”
“It is often done,” said Chayin indulgently. “Remember; all but Nemar have usable coastline. The Menetphers, when they war with Dordassa, often ship the threxmen there. Coseve and Itophe wage constant war upon the seas.”
A strand of my hair blew up and across Sereth’s face. In brushing it away, he pulled it from my head.
I laughed. Nineth was with Jaheil. She, her yra of tiasks, and their threx were not accustomed to barges, nor to water of any kind. I wondered how she had fared in that ride, up the coast to Port Astrin, then inland along the Litess. Fresh indeed, would be Jaheil’s jiasks and tiasks.
“Whose idea was it?” I asked, a suspicion dawning on me.
“Sereth’s,” Chayin said magnanimously.
“And where they happened to take land again, I suppose, was a place that would bring them quite close to the Slayers’ hostel,” I postulated.
“Reasonably close,” Sereth admitted. His smile flashed in the moonlight. “Let us go and see what Jaheil has to say.” And Chayin nodded, and extended his hand to the Ebvrasea. Grinning widely, as if some great deed had already been done, they traded a six-turn grip. It is a jiask’s grip, one of triumph.
They took the stairs of Astria at breakneck speed, like two small boys. By the time we made the common room, I was panting.
“Jaheil arrives,” roared Chayin, barely skidded in the door. “Ready yourselves.”
The exodus was orderly, smooth, and perplexing. The men, each before sidling, silent out the rear door of Well Astria, collected their saddles. These they dragged with them out the door, hoisting them up over their shoulders as they went. They left their threx where they were stabled, the Inner Well. Also they left there, as Chayin had directed them, their well-women. All but Celendra. She walked meek beside Lalen, now that the threshold was behind her. Over that she had made him drag her, in one last contentious fit. And then Sereth had spoken to her, a few sparse words, very low. Gagged, she had not answered. But she walked.
Double file we strolled leisurely across the plain of Astria, to meet Jaheil.
The appreis were risen, dawn only two enths away, when we reached them.
The circle of appreis was forty-two, and within them, those of Jaheil, cahndor of Dordassa, and Nineth, tiaskchan of Nemar, were raised. Jaheil’s was of splendor befitting a cahndor, though spare enough by his standards. He apologized for the exigencies of war thrust upon him, as he seated us.
Between the encircled appreis and the ring’s perimeter I had seen the threx, strung out at lengths upon ropes. I knew then why the jiasks had brought their saddles here upon their shoulders.
As I ducked into Jaheil’s apprei, Sereth’s back before me, I shivered. Much had befallen me in such shelters. I greeted Jaheil, looming huge and dark in the light of the oil lamp. He sat, dressed all in black, as is his custom, pulling upon his great beard with one hand. Sprawled next to him upon the grass of Astria was Nineth. Nineth, who was so large I had given her Besha’s clothing, and whose red-brown skin sheathed muscle enough for most men. Nineth, who raised her hand to greet me, and stopped halfway. Her sharp eyes flickered. I no longer wore Chayin’s medallion, nor my Nemarsi chald. Her eyes took mine, haughty. She said no word to me, and lowered her hand.
I took my place next to Sereth, whom Jaheil had seated upon his right hand. And Chayin entered, pushing Celendra before him. He thrust her to her knees before Jaheil. I leaned forward, unabashed, that I might see Nineth’s face, and Jaheil’s.
“This,” said Chayin, prodding Celendra with his foot, “I have brought you as gift.” Celendra had her head to the grass. This night, Jaheil had not spread his mats.
“Are we now couch-mates, Chayin?” Jaheil said, straight-faced, in a high voice. Chayin snorted.
“Sit up, crell,” Jaheil urged. “I would see you.” His fingers fondled his beard, anticipating. Nineth, as well as Celendra, sat up. The tiask’s eyes were noncommittal, at great cost. Lalen entered, quiet for all his bulk, and crouched next to me.
In all her beauty, gloriously robed in her nakedness, Celendra sat up. Next to Nineth, she was unspeakably delicate. Her heart-shaped face raised to him. Her huge gold-green eyes pleaded favor from under brows like crier’s wings. She shifted slightly, that her knees might be together, and her chains rattled. Between her high breasts depended the six-linked tether from her collar. It glinted softly, swinging, in the lamplight.
Jaheil looked upon her a time in silence. Chayin’s face, standing over her, betrayed no emotion.
“Stand up, crell!” Celendra stood. He had her turn, then kneel again.
“That was thoughtful of you, Cahndor,” Jaheil said at last, his, eyes twinkling. “I will use her as shield in the fighting, if there is any.” He reached over and took her tether, pulled her by it. “Sit here,” he invited, putting her upon his ample lap, as if she were a child. Nineth rose and left, wordless.
Celendra moaned under her gag, enfolded in Jaheil’s arms as he explored his new possession. He had not asked why Chayin gagged her, but he made no move to free her tongue.
“Are there more?” Jaheil asked.
“Many,” said Chayin, taking Nineth’s vacant seat upon Jaheil’s left—his rightful place, which he had waited for Nineth to give up.
“You can have all you want of them. They lie there ready, bound, for your men to take, when this is over. This one was the highest of them.” He indicated Celendra, enfolded in Jaheil’s exploring grasp.
“Again, I thank you,” Jaheil said, and rolled Celendra off his lap. She lay there, very still.
We have some things to discuss, and little time,” Sereth said softly.
Chayin inclined his head. Before Jaheil, in this place, he was again the living god.
“Did you do as we asked?” he demanded.
“Yes,” said Jaheil.
“They saw: you?”
“Doubtless,” said Jaheil.
“And they did not obstruct you?”
“Not even a warning.”
“Sereth, perhaps they will not, after all, move to aid her.”
“Perhaps,” allowed Sereth with no conviction. “We should get mounted. Form the tiasks upon the outside. A Slayer will pull his stroke against a woman.”
“They may not come,” said Chayin. Jaheil looked between them, his brows pulled together.
“Do it!” the Ebvrasea ordered the cahndor. Jaheil’s brows went up, then down even farther. Lalen shifted his sword arm clear.
“Position the tiasks upon the outside,” said Chayin to Jaheil. “Best men in a center swathe. If the Slayers appear while we engage Hael, you know what to do.”
“And remember,” said Sereth softly, “my archers, and how far that death can fly.”
Jaheil allowed that he had already spread that word.
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“Afterward,” said Chayin as we rose to find the threx Jaheil had brought us, “go into the Well and allow my men to get their wellwomen. Take what you want; none will obstruct you. If you leave by midday, that is. You must do so. I will not be with you.” He took the medallion of uritheria from about his neck and handed it to Jaheil. Bewildered, Jaheil put it on.
“What do you want me to do, Chayin?” he asked, his snarling manner much softened.
“We will, in this battle, have a chance not only at Hael’s head, but at two other heads. If we were to have all three, as I think we will, we could unite the Parset Lands. It is up to you to do so. I give you regency in my name. You are the only one fit to hold it.” And his eyes said that he recalled Liuma, regent of Menetph.
“And where will you be?” demanded Jaheil.
“I cannot tell you that. I will be safe enough. In the pass of winter solstice, I will return to you. And we will change what is then, even more.” The wind from the abyss sighed in Chayin’s voice. And Jaheil saw the veil heavy upon him, and only nodded and held back the flap.
“You will return to us,” Jaheil added as Chayin ducked under his arm.
“Yes. With certainty.” And Chayin flashed his dorkat smile.
Between the appreis, threxmen prepared their mounts. Through them Jaheil led us, to where Saer, Guanden, and Krist, Sereth’s black, stood beside his own red giant. Before each was piled his gear. Jaheil had been thorough, I thought as I struggled with Guanden’s head. Finally Sereth held his ears for me, that I might get the bitless northern headstall upon him. Upon my saddle, as every other I had seen, was affixed a coiled huija.
“I cannot use this,” I said, as I hefted the saddle. I had to strain to get it upon his high withers.
“Then do not use it,” Chayin said, from upon Saer’s dappled back. Nose in the air, the threx lunged and pranced, cutting chunks of sod from the earth with his steel-shod hooves.
“It was the boat ride,” I heard Chayin mutter, stroking his arched crest.
“Perhaps I should have brought you Issa,” said Sereth critically, watching Guanden’s ill-mannered attempts to maim me as I drew tight the girth. I well recalled her, that fair red threx, and her easy ways.
