by Diana Rivers
“I have no money for such things,” I protested in my deepest voice.
“Not for money, then, but only for friendship. The road grows lonely at times. And save your deep voice for others. With me it is wasted.”
“I have no time either,” I said, really frightened now and impatient to be gone.
“Quickly, someone comes and we must talk,” she whispered urgently. “Let me lay you out a hand.” She had a firm grip on Marshlegs’ reins. I saw I would not get free of her without a scene. Reluctantly I dismounted and came to stand by her while she deftly gathered her cards and laid out another hand. I could hear horses now. “Come sit by me,” she hissed. “And be interested.” I noticed that she had rubbed out the sign with her foot, though in my mind I could still see the shape of it in the dark, fresh earth.
When the others came on us we were bent over the cards together. They were two men, farmers by the look of them. They hesitated a little, then the boldest of them asked, “Can you do our cards next, Auntie?”
“Last hand of the day, good people. I have to go tend to my old mother, but if you come back tomorrow I will be here, in this very place. Vanhira-of-the-road, who is never wrong about past or future. The present, of course, is yours to tend to yourselves. Or better yet, look for me at the next market in Hamishaire.” They made as if to stay and watch, but she shook her head and waved them away. “What is in the cards is for that person’s eyes alone and for no other.” By the time they left I was trembling and soaked with sweat.
As soon as they moved off I made ready to rise, but she put out her hand to hold me. “What do you want, woman?” I growled at her. “You have detained me long enough.”
“Give me a moment only to read the cards. Then if you are still in such a hurry, I will not hold you.” I gave a reluctant nod. In her card-reader voice she intoned, “I see you carry a heavy fate. In your past there is a great star that leaves a blazing path across the heavens and scatters powers here below. You are one of those on whom the powers have fallen, am I right?”
She tried looking in my eyes, but I evaded her and said curtly, “Go on, I need to be on my way.”
Deftly she turned new cards now, peering into each one as if it held some truth, while she said, “I see here two others under that same star who must remain hidden until dark, two who have not the use of words and for whom I have no names. They need horses and a guide to take them to safety. I hope you understand the meaning of the cards, for that is all they tell me now.” With a sudden, practiced sweep she gathered up all her cards and stood up. “Your course is clear, then? I will be here until someone comes. Look for me back in the woods a little, away from curious eyes.”
“Answer the owl when it hoots three times,” I told her as I sprung unto my horse. She nodded and closed her hand over her crystal, as if for protection. That is how the silent ones came among us. Vanhira knew nothing of them save that they were Wanderers’ children. Later, Jhemar told me their story as she heard it on the road, though even she had no names for them.
Other new women came to us as well, a few at first and then more and more till it seemed like an endless flood, with food and shelter and all the rest needing to be provided. As word spread that there was a safe place to gather, those who had been waiting began to come out of hiding. Some, having been given directions, rode in on their own horses with spare clothes and food and other goods. More often they were brought in by one of us, ragged and hungry as I had been, frightened and distrustful as well, or burned or wounded in some way. Some crept in through the woods past our sentries, wary as wild animals at first. All had stories, those who were willing or able to talk, stories as much in need of telling as the one I write here. Some told of families who had hidden them and kept them safe and sometimes died for it, and others told of families who had hated and betrayed them and even tried to kill them, often at an early age. There were those who had been on their own as young as Pell or younger and others who just now had come out of hiding in their family’s secret storage places.
All of us who rode back to move Pell’s goods—our goods, as she liked to remind me, and in truth they were often put to use as soon as we brought them in—also searched for survivors on each trip. Now I no longer avoided those signs—those stars and double triangles and circles within each other—as I had that first time, but watched for them, watched intently with my senses as well as with my eyes. We ourselves even drew them in the dirt at crossroads and resting places, leaving a little X of sticks to recognize our own. Later we would come back to see if there was another sign drawn next to ours or over it, or if we could sense someone watching and waiting there for us. It was then that I began to understand the work Pell had done, the web of contacts she had woven over the years.
Sometimes I felt lost, drowning in that flood of strangers. Not Pell. Pell seemed to be everywhere at once, doing what was needed for each one. And when the press of numbers grew too great, she chose three of the women who had come in with Kazouri and sent them west with Josleen and Megyair as guides. They were to seek out a friend of Hereschell’s, a Wanderer woman named Yaniri, who had settled down in her old age. Pell was hoping we could set up another gathering there with her. Sick from the turmoil of the camp, Jhemar went with them. Though the Witches had begun to teach her something of shielding and focusing, still she needed some relief from all the troubled thoughts swirling through our camp.
***
Some days later, as we were bustling about noisily in the clearing, cutting brush and stretching canvas to set up new shelters, I suddenly felt the hair go up on the back of my neck. I looked up to see an old woman watching us from the edge of the clearing. How long had she been standing there, watching quietly, unnoticed by anyone? How had she slipped in so easily past our sentries? Her stillness and her stare made me afraid. Though she said nothing, I felt called and went to stand before her. There was something in her presence that commanded respect and obedience. Short, stout, and solid, she stood with her feet planted wide apart as if rooted in the earth. In fact, with her brown skin, brown hair, and brown clothes, all of the same shade, she looked like a piece of the earth itself. Her somewhat hooded, gold-flecked dark eyes that stared unblinking into mine made me think of Telakeet’s toad in human form, wise and ageless.
I bowed before her, saying, “Mother, how may I help you? Are you looking for someone here?”
She regarded me seriously and intently for so long before answering that I began to shift nervously from foot to foot, though I could not free myself from her piercing stare. Then, with a sudden grin she said, “I have been looking for someone all my life. I suppose I am as likely to find her here as elsewhere. So you are one of the new ones. I am sorry to have missed our meeting, but other matters...” Then she stopped speaking and openly stared at me, looking me up and down again, with no cruelty, but with not much kindness either. I felt myself being examined for use. Even my mind felt forced open by her scrutiny. It was a relief to suddenly sense Alyeeta’s presence next to me. She had slipped up silently and now put her arm around my shoulders like a protection, saying, “This is Tazzi, who is destined to become leader among these young women, when she learns to fill out the promise of her powers. And this,” she added with a slight bow toward the old woman, “is Hamiuri, Mother of Witches, who is guide to us all.”
“Not so, not so,” the other answered with a smile. “I am no one’s mother, only that I no longer care to hide my age as some do. But never mind all that now.” With a sudden gesture she took my hand in hers and said with compelling warmth, “Come, child, sit by me if you can spare some time out of all this busyness to trade words with an old woman. I would like to know more of this new breed. I have three with me who escaped from the city. Thinking to shelter them with Alyeeta, I brought them here, only to find you are already forming a tribe or an army in this place. You must tell me how all this has happened.”
On the other side of me Alyeeta whispered in my ear, “Trust her. Tell her all she
asks, as best you can. She truly is our ‘Mother.’ Then she dropped her arm from my shoulder and was gone as suddenly as she had appeared. With my hand in Hamiuri’s, she seemed not near so threatening or formidable. Indeed, in her changed mode, she had almost as much charm as Shalamith. I went with her easily enough to a mossy place at the edge of the trees.
There I talked and talked, trying to answer all her questions. Finally I had to call over Renaise and Zenoria to help me. Then Pell herself came to sit by us and soon others were there, adding their stories and being questioned. After a while all the women in the clearing were sitting in a circle around Hamiuri. It seemed as if she had drawn us together by intention. Suddenly she stood up and turned to look at us all, this small brown woman who was like a mountain of power. “This is your first council meeting, take note of that,” she said in a loud, commanding voice. “And now, you must choose a leader to see you through these hard times that are still to come.”
That was how the choosing began. It was Hamiuri’s plan we followed. First we said our names around the circle so we would know clearly who it was we were choosing. Then we each made three choices. When it was over, Pell was named most often as one of each woman’s choices, if not the first, for that might be that woman’s friend, then at least the second or the third. No other woman was named so often or even near to it.
That done, there were roars of approval and a burst of loud, boisterous talk till Hamiuri clapped her hands for silence. When all was still, she asked, “Is there any voice raised against Pell as leader? Speak now, for this is your chance.” She swept the gathering with her eyes. As no hand was raised and no voice spoke out, Hamiuri said with great seriousness, “Understand, all of you, that you have, with no questions and no doubts spoken, chosen a leader this day. Now, Pell, you must stand up and speak so they can hear if they have made themselves a good choice.”
Chapter Fourteen
It had all happened so suddenly. The look of surprise on Pell’s face was almost comical, but she got up slowly, giving herself the chance she needed. By the time she was on her feet and facing us, she looked to be in command of herself and of the scene as well. With a slight bow toward Hamiuri she said, “I thank you, Mother, for your guidance here.” Then, turning to the rest of us, she went on, “And to all of you for your trust in me. With the help of the Goddess I will do my best to live up to it. I must tell you, however, that I only agree to be leader for now and to issue orders here in the hope that soon there will be no need for such a leader or such orders. I want nothing more than to fmd a place where we can live in safety. For myself I plan to grow old and fat and lazy in that place. Yet I see a long, dangerous road for us between here and there.”
Having said that, Pell looked about, her eyes sweeping the clearing as if in search of something. Then, seeing a great old stump, the width of a small table and the height of a woman’s knees, she went striding over to it. Watching her, I felt a sudden swell of love and pride in my heart. Leaping up on the stump, Pell raised her arms for attention. As soon as she had it, she called out to us, “If you are going to make me speak, then you must all come where I can see you.”
Quickly we rearranged ourselves. When we had finished shuffling around and there was silence again, Pell went on, “Ever since I first began to understand who and what we were, I have dreamed of this day, of seeing us gathered together in our numbers. And now, by the Goddess, what am I to say to you all? I have nothing written, of course. Even if I did I could not read it. Like most of you, I am a poor farm girl with nothing but my wits and these strange gifts.” With these few words she had everyone’s notice. Women were leaning forward, totally silent, listening intently to her.
“As to those gifts, none of us asked for them. They are the gifts of our birth. Wondrous as they are, they must sometimes seem to you as much a curse as a blessing. It is these gifts that have brought down the wrath of the Zarns on our heads and driven us from our homes. The high and mighty who rule this land see us as some kind of threat to their power. And so we must be, or they would not have posted their edict. Yet what we are or what we might become is still unknown to us. As to the powers, even we ourselves do not know the full extent of them. That is what we hope to discover here, sharing with each other and helped by the Witches. We have different powers and they seem to come on us at different ages, though some, I believe, like mind-speech and speech with creatures, are common to us all.
“Those powers are our bond. Never forget that. It is for them that others seek to kill us. No matter what your passing quarrel with another woman, remember that bond. It matters more than all your differences. That might not always be easy. Pain has not made us all lovely or loving to be with. But believe me, in the end, you have nothing in the world left of family, friends, lovers, village, tribe, people, future, or hope—except that bond with each other.”
Though, as Pell said, she had no speech prepared, she went on for a while in this way with ease. She spoke of plans and strategies, of the Zarn’s likely intentions, of that terrible new feeling called fear and how to use and control it. She spoke of much else besides. The words flowed and flowed, as if all this had been waiting there in her head for years. At the end of it Pell raised both arms and shouted, “No matter what else happens, remember, the Goddess made us as we are. We are Her children! She wants us here!” There was wild cheeering and stamping from around the circle at those words, and it went on for some time. Then, in a quieter tone, Pell added, “Now, I shall choose captains from among you for each function. They shall choose their seconds. You must listen to them as you would to me.”
By the time the choosing and naming was done and Pell had jumped down from the stump, she was shaking and soaked with sweat. Shouting and cheering, women rushed forward to embrace her. I was just readying myself to plunge into that mob and save her from the crush of too much affection when I saw Kazouri’s broad bulk striding forward, making her a path.
That evening I had a few moments alone with Pell as we went together to bathe down at the stream. “Lucky for me I was taught something of making speeches by the Thieves Guild,” she said as she stripped off her clothes. “Otherwise I might have died of embarrassment. That Hamiuri is a fox. She looks to be someone’s sweet old grandmother, but I wager she could spin the whole world on her little finger if she set her mind to it. She has turned me into something I had no thought to be, and made me work for it besides.” Pell sounded half vexed and half pleased. She gave me a funny, sideways grin.
I shook my head. Never, not for one moment, not since she had first fixed me with her compelling stare, had I thought of Hamiuri as someone’s sweet old grandmother. “She was right, Pell. It was a thing that needed doing. And, without question, you were the natural one to choose.”
“Really?” she said, cocking her head at me. Then, with a sudden laugh and a throw of her hip she had me in the water, still in my boots. With a shout I sprang out and leapt upon her. Wet and half-dressed, we rolled about on the mossy bank laughing and struggling. For that moment we were just two girls playing together instead of the newly-chosen leader of a hunted people and her second-in-command. Later, we even found time for some loving on that soft, damp ground.
***
After Pell was picked as leader, she set to organizing in a more deliberate way all that had been done before by chance or assumption. For a while a sort of peace and order settled on the camp. It was the first time since leaving home that I had some sense of safety, or at least I had it until Rishka’s coming shattered and blasted all that, turning everything upside down.
Yes, it is true, I was chosen to be Pell’s second there, and it frightened me. I thought many others more able. All those I would have named, however, had some urgent task that needed them. The rest were too new, too green. And so, almost by default, that post fell to me.
Renaise, of course, had been put in charge of the camp and the food supply, doing what she already did so well. She chose her sister Thalyisi as her second there
. Alyeeta was asked if she would organize the healing: the teaching of new healers, the gathering of herbs, and the making of ointments. She gave her grudging consent, but only if I agreed to help her. The system of watchers and sentries had fallen to Zenoria, as she already had charge of the horses. Now that she was learning enough of shielding to make crowds bearable, Jhemar had been chosen, in her absence, to be our ears, spying at the fringes of towns or markets, in taverns and in quillof booths, keeping us informed of what was happening out there in the world. She was also to train and organize others as spies, any who had a special talent for the hearing of silent speech. Kazouri, Jhemar’s giant friend, was appointed to be our trainer, to make our bodies fit for whatever lay ahead. That one, as I soon found out, had no pity and was blessed with a voice that could make the very stones jump out of the ground. For the next few weeks, even the laziest of us were driven to lift, stretch, run, and climb till we were panting and sweating and begging for mercy. Kazouri herself, of course, made it all look effortless. New women, as they came in, were to be assigned to one or the other of us. In that way they found their places in the structure of the camp.
Meanwhile, the Witches were teaching us what they could. Learning from Witches made Kazouri seem like the Mother of Kindness herself. Poking and prodding, they drove us all relentlessly, trying to understand our powers, trying to help us master them. Often we were in tears with pains in our heads and knots in our bellies as new things sprouted from us that, as yet, we could neither comprehend nor control. Sometimes, I think, they prodded at us as a curious child prods at a bug, to see what makes it work, to see if it will crawl away and hide, or fly away, or turn its pincers back in anger. Alyeeta did not drive me quite so hard, perhaps because she had already done so, or perhaps because she loved me too much, as Telakeet so often said. She even had her moments of kindness. You can believe that Telakeet made up for that with a vengeance, singling me out for her attacks.
