by Diana Rivers
Trembling, I raised the woman’s head. “You understand what this will do?” I asked, bending over her. For a moment she seemed too far away to comprehend. Then I saw her come back to herself by an act of will.
“Yes,” she whispered hoarsely. She was fully alert for that moment, though I sensed the terrible effort it cost her. “Yes, do it, please!” She gripped my wrist with her charred hand. The strength in her fingers amazed me. Her eyes looked straight into mine as she drank. Shaking and sick inside I kept my hand as steady as I could. I wanted to look away from her stare, but felt I owed her my eyes if that was what she needed. That might be the last thing she ever saw on this earth. When she had drunk this lethal brew to the bottom, she whispered, “Thank you for your kindness.” Then she released my wrist and shut her swollen eyes. I eased her down.
She was going to die, now, right before me. It was not the first death I had witnessed, but surely the first I had caused. “Your name?” I whispered to her with sudden urgency. “What is your name?” Already she was slipping past me, though I could still hear her harsh, shallow breathing. “Jhemar, we have no name for her, no name to bury her with.” I sat staring at the nameless one as if trying to call her back for one last word.
Pell and the other burned one had both fallen asleep again. Jhemar sat down opposite me. “No matter,” she said softly. “Leave her be now. At least she will die among her own. At least we can give her that.” We sat on either side of her, each with a hand on the body that no longer brought her pain and so did not mind the weight of a hand. We sat there silent until her breathing slowed and then finally stopped. Her body gave a last shudder. After a while I felt for her pulse and then bent to listen for her heart. I shook my head. Jhemar nodded. Neither of us spoke. We went on sitting as the day darkened. For a long time the only sound in the shelter was of our own breathing, until at last, out of that silence, Jhemar said, almost in a whisper, “You did all that you could.” As if suddenly freed to cry, the tears began to roll down my face. Still I did not move from there.
When she woke, Pell lit the lamps and came to feel for heart and pulse as I had done. After a moment or so she straightened and shook her head. “Gone, then. Well, I suppose it is better so. At least her suffering is over. We must bury her tonight.” Though her eyes glistened, she did not shed a single tear. Instead, her face turned stony hard. “We must bury her quickly and well, bury her where neither man nor beast will find her.”
“But Pell,” I said despairingly, “We do not even have a name to bury her with.” I spoke as if all my grief could be compressed into that one small fact.
Pell shrugged. “Where she goes now she does not care if we name her or not. All that is show for the living, illusion to comfort us. For her it matters only that her pain has ended, not what name we use or what words we say over her body. For us it matters that we do this right. If men find her body, they will know she did not come here unaided and will set out to look for others. If animals find her, they will eat her and her bones will point the way to our shelter like so many arrows.”
I shuddered. “Stop, Pell! Enough!” Jhemar pulled the cover over the dead one’s face. The woman’s silence was very loud between us in the shelter. I shook my head and said in a whisper, “How could one human being do this to another? I did not think such things existed.”
“You will probably see worse,” Pell answered harshly. “I have been gone from my father’s house for almost five turns of the seasons and nothing surprises me any more. I think men are capable of anything.”
Jhemar turned toward her. “Where can we do this? We do not have the time to dig a deep enough grave.”
“Nor the tools. And the ground is hard and very rocky here, as I know well from digging that blessed pit.” Pell stood for a while in thought, then said in a flat, controlled voice that had no trace of grief in it, “The deep part of the ravine. It is close enough, and we can fill it with rocks. It can all be done from above.”
Jhemar shook her head. “Close, yes, but too rocky and steep for horses.”
“All the better. It means none will go there by chance. With three we can carry her. We will manage as we must.”
The moon had not yet risen and the night was dark, but Pell seemed to know her way. Jhemar went next. I had only to follow after, setting one foot before the other and trying to keep step with them. We had wrapped her body in an old gray blanket Pell found in the bottom of one of her boxes. She had tied it securely for safe carrying, running a pole through the ropes for hand holds. Even so it was slow going, struggling with that weight between us in the darkness. The way was narrow and the footing rocky and uneven, more like steep natural stone steps than like a path. It was hard not to stumble. Once my foot slipped, and I heard a scatter of gravel that seemed to go on forever.
“Take care,” Pell said sharply. “We are climbing a high ridge. It would not do to fall into that ravine ourselves.”
Soon my eyes became adjusted to the night. What I saw did nothing to dispel my fears. We were going up a thin spine, and there seemed a pit of endless darkness on either side. Several times we had to stop to set our burden down so we could catch our breath and ease our backs and arms. At least, I thought as we crept along, there are no trees here to claw at us and snag us in the dark. When the way began to flatten out, Pell said in a flat, practical voice, “Well, that should be far enough. I think there is an almost straight cliff below us here with little to catch on.”
Jhemar wanted to say the Koormir words for burial before we pushed her body over. Pell said abruptly, “It is too dangerous out here. We must do this quickly. Whatever words need to be said can be said back at the shelter. If you believe in the Goddess, then you believe she is everywhere and will take her daughter home, with or without our words. Now, we must push the body far out so it does not snag on the rocks part way down.”
Pell took her sparkstone from her belt pouch and lit a candle. That small light only made the darkness more vast. When she held it out, it was lost well before it reached the depths of the ravine.
“We need a torch,” Jhemar said and quickly began gathering bunches of dried grass. She bound these to the end of the pole we had used for carrying. Pell lit the grass bundle with her candle, making a torch. Jhemar crammed it upright between some rocks, and suddenly light flared all around us.
“Now we must do this quickly,” Pell said. We lifted the body, counted together to three, and at Pell’s signal we pitched our terrible burden out into the darkness. There was a moment of silence, then a dreadful, heavy thud and the rattle of rocks. Pell held up the torch and leaned far out to look. “Good, to the very bottom. Now for rocks to cover. If I set the torch here, we can see.” She forced the end of the torch into a rock crevice so that it cast its flickering light far down into the ravine. There, at the bottom, lay a gray bundle. After the first few rocks I turned away, retching. Later, when all was done, I had to be guided back. The sound of those rocks striking had been more than I could stomach.
When we returned, the other burned one was very much awake, more alert than I had seen her before. She had propped herself up slightly against some cushions and looked at us accusingly as we came through the entry way. “I thought you had left me to die here alone.”
“Not so,” Jhemar said quickly. “The other burned one died this evening. We have been to bury her, but we had no name for her, no name to send her home with.”
“I could have told you her name, as we were from the same village. It was Shaleethia. Mine is Maireth, if you want to know. You will not have to bury me nameless if that time comes, but I think you will not have to bury me at all. I think I will live in spite of what they did.” Her voice was harsh with anger and still raw from the smoke. Suddenly her body tensed, and her face grimaced uncontrollably with pain. Quickly I brought her a dose of diraithia and steadied the cup for her to drink. When she could speak again, she said bitterly, “Perhaps she was the lucky one after all. Perhaps that was the better way to go.�
�� I felt the effort it cost her to speak at all.
With a groan of weariness, Pell sank down on the pile of mats to pull off her boots. “Well, Maireth, you are under no obligation to live, but if you plan to die, please do it far from here and make your own burial. One body is enough to deal with this night.”
I sucked in my breath and even Jhemar looked shocked, but I saw a strange, twisted smile pass across Maireth’s face, or perhaps it was only a grimace of pain. “Pell, why must you always be so hard?” I asked her angrily.
“You think me hard? Let me tell you, girl, this is only the beginning. If you have no stomach for this, you will be no use at all for what is yet to come. In the long run you will see that my hardness is my greatest kindness. Now, Maireth, since you can speak again, tell us what happened to you both.”
“No!” I jumped in front of Pell. “You will not make her talk. I forbid it. She is not ready for such an effort. It would endanger her healing.”
“But she was talking on her own. It seemed little harm to ask a few questions.”
“And then a few more and a few more. Soon you would have her on her feet pointing to places on the map. No, leave off, let her be. Do you just want the glory of rescuing them? Is that what matters to you, or do you want to see them live and recover? You told me to be a healer here. That is what I am doing, to the best of my ability. In this, I am the one with the experience and you must do as I say. If not, I leave her in your hands. You can begin right now by changing her dressings.”
“But there are things we need to know.”
“Yes, soon enough! Later! For now I forbid any more of this. Even this quarrel does her harm. Do as I say now or ask nothing else of me.”
Calmly, Jhemar stepped between us. “You have each had your turn to give commands, now it is mine. Tazzi, go and sit down before you fall. I have no wish to start caring for you next.” She gave me a firm but gentle push toward the mats. As Pell started to speak, she raised her hand. “No, Pell, not one more word. You both will be silent now and respectful of one another. Leave Maireth in peace while I heat up the soup. Then you will eat. We are all exhausted beyond reason. It is crucial that we have some food, especially Maireth and Tazzi. Healing drains the body, whether we are trying to heal our own or helping heal another.”
I sat with my eyes closed and my head hanging down between my shoulders. The small, homey sounds of pot and fire were so comforting that I was starting to doze when, out of the silence, Maireth said, “All my life some have been jealous of my powers and given me grief for them, but never did I dream they would try to burn me alive for what I know.” The terrible bitterness of her words cut into me like a knife. No more able to shield myself from that bitterness than I had been able to close out her pain, I gathered it up, storing it in my heart, adding it to what was already there.
Later, after we had eaten and I lay waiting for sleep, I heard Jhemar saying the words for the dead in Shaleethia’s name. She had built up the outside fire and stood in front of it, a dark figure outlined by flames, intoning the death-chant with her arms raised.
Chapter Nine
Seven days had passed since Renaise had ridden home to warn the others. Pell was sleeping late after our terrible night, the first time I had known her to do so. Jhemar had left with the dawn to rejoin Zenoria and I had been up early attending to Maireth’s burns. Now she too was sleeping, the most peaceful I had ever seen her. I was moving about slowly, stirring a pot of mush for our breakfast, when Pell leaned up on her elbow and said, “We go to the market today to see what we can find. Tonight we go to meet with Renaise.”
By “find at the market,” I knew she meant steal. The thought of going back to Hamishaire, especially on such a risky project, made me sick with fear. “There is no need for that Pell,” I said quickly. “I have coins enough for anything you want.”
“Save those coins carefully, Tazzi. They may mean our supplies this winter, sooner perhaps. In fact, they may mean our lives, but we have to use them with care. Right now is not the time to flash Shokarn gold in the market. It would draw more notice than is safe and raise questions, I, for one, have no wish to answer. For bargaining and causing a distraction, take only those small coins you got in change at the tavern.”
Pell climbed out of her bed-roll, and came over to sit by the fire. She served herself a bowl of gruel and began eating with good appetite while I looked at her in amazement.
“Pell, a woman died here last night, died in our hands, and we buried her in a terrible way. With no name to call her by and no stone to mark her place. No matter—you wake today bright as can be and ready to go off and steal at the market. I cannot understand you.”
“You can, but you choose not to.” She set her bowl down hard and took my wrists in a firm grip, forcing me to look at her. “What would you have me do then? Scream? Beat my head bloody against this rock wall? Would that help her now? Would that bring her back to life? More important, would that help others not to be trapped as she was? I cannot re-live yesterday. All I can do is my best for this day, and for each day as it comes. They want to kill us all, every one of us. I will do whatever I can to stop them, whatever is in my power for you or Maireth or any of us still living, but those who die are beyond my reach. At that door I stop and let them go, else I am no use here. You must learn to do the same. Otherwise you will die of grief and bitterness and so do the Zarn’s work for him. Already I see those things eating at you.” She released me. “You have made us a fine gruel. Now, let us eat it in peace. In this game the next meal is never certain.”
“I wish Jhemar was still here,” I said stubbornly. “She could have gone to the market with you, and I could have stayed home caring for Maireth.”
Pell gave a quick harsh bark of a laugh. “Not Jhemar surely. Anyone but Jhemar. With her reading of minds she is no use at all in the market. A market or any such public place would drive her mad in minutes. Now speak no more of this and eat your gruel. Remember, she said you needed your food.”
With a sigh I surrendered again to Pell’s will. We ate in silence for a while till she set down her bowl and poured us both some tea. “The market comes only once a week to Hamishaire,” she said, trying to persuade now that she had bullied me. “I seldom have the chance of such a good accomplice. I hope Shaleethia can forgive me for going the day after her death, but otherwise we wait another seven days. Who knows what that will bring or where we will be by then. For one thing, long before next market, we will be out of undyed cloth, very soon, in fact. I have no more hidden away here. And we need fresh food for Maireth if she is to get well. Besides, we may soon have other women here with us, many perhaps, many who will need what the market can supply.”
“But how can I help you, Pell? I cannot lie without turning red and scrambling my words. As to stealing, I should probably fumble and drop everything right there before the market booth.” I had been sitting worrying on this in silence all the while we ate.
“Just so, you will be the decoy and a good one, or as they say among thieves, you will be the ‘show’ and I the ‘hands.’ All eyes will be on your fumbling. Do it well. Make sure you only arouse suspicion. Do not feed it enough for them to try to search you.”
“Pell, did you learn all this alone or were you taught to be a thief?”
She gave me a strange sideways look. “Oh, at first it was just as I told you, I learned on my own simply to live, to put food in my mouth. Then I was noticed in the market by one from the Thieves Guild. When he put his hand on my shoulder, I was sure he was a market spotter and was going to denounce me. I would have had to flee with the whole market on my tail, not a test of my powers I wished to make. Instead he drew me aside and made me an offer I could not afford to refuse. More of that later. I will only say now that my debt there has long been settled.”
“Does it not harm your powers to use them in this way?”
“Misuse them I think you mean. Probably—though so far I have not felt it. I am very careful. I never s
teal anything for my own pleasure or amusement. I take only what I think we will need to live, never from those who befriend me and never much from any one place, nor do I steal from those in need. Sometimes I even leave them a little if I can.
“It is my skill, my gift, how can I not use it for us? You have your healing, and Zenoria her way with animals, and Jhemar her great strength and her reading of minds. I have this skill with my hands and wits.”
“But you are proud of it.”
“Well? And should I be ashamed? Would that make it better? Besides, this is what I have been given, and someone needs to do it for us. No, I will not be ashamed of what I have learned to do well, though I tell you truthfully, Tazzi, I will be glad when this is over and I can make my own honest living with my own two hands.”
“You think this will really be over?”
“I must think it. That is the only way I can go on living.” With those words she set down her cup and stood up to go.
***
Now, at Pell’s insistence we were headed back to Hamishaire, riding those roads again through a market crowd. Maireth had asked to be propped up against some pillows to watch our preparations. She had even made some comments on our appearance. Pell had me dressed in my usual farm boy disguise. For herself, she selected what she called her “market coat,” a loose, roomy overcoat with layers of inner pockets for storage, yet giving the appearance of a very ordinary garment, such a coat as a portly man might wear. She lightened her face with powder, added a cap with side whiskers attached, brushed up and lightened her eyebrows. In the end, her own thin face took on the appearance of being thick, jowly and of middle years. Finally she stood before us, just such a man as one sees at any market, the kind of man who would be buying a cart or an extra horse or looking over the tack.
