Daughters of the Great Star

by Diana Rivers

  I had seen some blocks of wood by Hamiuri’s hearth, piled there for carving or for burning. Finding two of near the same size, I hastily tied them on my feet with a cord I cut in half. These added at least two hands to my height. Tottering on my wooden feet, I went to the wardrobe and quickly pulled out the longest robe I could find there, one stiff with metal threads that would flash in the torch light. I slipped this down to my waist like a skirt and bound it on with a sash. It covered my block feet and gave me a dizzying height. Next I drew on a sleeveless tunic of some shimmering silvery stuff and over that fastened a set of brass breast-cups that would also shine and flash in the light. After that I wound some wide gold bracelets over my bare arms above my elbows, added Hamiuri’s heaviest necklace, all hung with red stones. Over my short hair I pulled on a wig of tiny coiling braids. Into the midst of this I set the most fearsome of her headdresses, the one that rose high over the head with a great central gleaming eye.

  Thus altered, I leaned forward to peer at the apparition in the glass. “Almost,” I said to her, “almost.” I took up a paint pot and made a row of red slashes diagonally across each cheek. I took up another and painted the six pointed star on my forehead and huge black rings under my eyes. “All right,” I said, nodding to my twin in the glass. “Good enough.” The face that stared back at me was no longer human. Something else had entered there, something of power. If I had gone on looking any longer I could even have frightened myself. “Now with the help of the Goddess we go to meet with them,” I told her and she nodded back at me.

  Carefully I gathered up the snakes, winding one around each arm like those on the statue and one around my neck so she could raise her head over mine. I could tell from how they settled themselves that they had done this work many times before, though likely at a very different sort of ritual. Just as I turned away from the glass I saw reflected there the first of their flares, flickering through the trees. “Mother, help me now,” I said to the little figure on the altar.

  I took the lamp with me and set it on a low table in front of the door. Then, hidden at the edge of the window, I watched their approach, trying to breathe evenly and keep my calm. I needed them close enough to see me clearly when I chose to appear, but not so near as to close their circle and start their fire. It was clear they did not have fastfire or they would already have set it. That was some comfort at least. They were moving so slowly now it made my nerves crawl. They seemed to be pushing against an invisible barrier. Suddenly I realized that I was shielding. There was also force in the place itself and in everything I wore, Hamiuri’s force added to my own. By a conscious act of will I lifted my shield.

  Instantly one young man rushed forward with a cry, waving his torch wildly. The unseen gate had been flung open. I could see him clearly, see the fear and confusion on his face. He looked to be a farm boy much like those I had grown up with, pressed into service. Something in his face brought to mind my brother. “Witches,” he shouted, very frightened and full of rage, trying to sound bold, “Witches, come out or we will burn you alive with our circle of fire!”

  That was my signal; he was my chance, the crack in their circle. The others were in disarray, shouting angrily at him to move back while he looked about bewildered, as if unsure how he had gotten himself there. I lifted the latch. With a roar or a howl, some terrible sound that rushed up from my belly, like the sound of a wild creature about to attack, I kicked open the door. There were gasps of surprise and cries of fear from that line of men when I stepped through the doorway with my arms raised. The light from my lamp cast a huge leaping shadow out among them. The flare of their torches flashed on my breastplate and likely from the eye of the headdress as well.

  With a shout of fright that poor young fool rushed forward and flung his torch at me. All in an instant he himself was in flames. Howling in a madness of pain he dashed away and threw himself down to roll on the ground. Others rushed to help him. Those from the back of the hut came running around to the front to see what had happened. Their circle was broken now, their discipline undone. They did not look to be seasoned soldiers. Many of them looked to be raw recruits, dragged from their farm villages to hunt down the star-brats. They were all milling about in confusion, some shouting to make a fire then, others to flee. I knew this might be my only moment. Raising my arms high and shaking the snakes so that they hissed and wove their heads about, I made my voice into a fearsome roar. “Stop where you are! Take care with your fire. If any of you are careless with your torches and set fire to this sacred ground you will end like that one.” With a snake head rising above my fingers, I swung my arm and pointed to his darkened crumpled form. I was very afraid they would drop their flares and make their fire by accident in the dry summer grass.

  “If you come any closer,” I roared again, “the magic serpents of the Great Mother will strike you dead with their venomed fangs.” I shook my shoulders and the snakes did their part, hissing and striking out fiercely in all directions. Those men answered with groans and cries; I was almost sure I had them now. The ones who had been urging speedy action were no longer so eager.

  Taking a step forward to sweep them all with my pointing fingers, I was very glad to see them take a step back. I wanted to keep my back close to the shelter, and so had no wish to go any farther. Besides I could feel the fastening on one of my blocks loosening itself. A lame and hobbling Goddess would not keep her powers long. Most likely she would be speedily unmasked.

  Casting about hastily for something of use, I noticed a large flat rock, a little off to the side, between me and those men. Swinging my pointing finger at it, I said with all the authority I could summon, “Now, one by one, go place those torches on that altar. There they can burn out and do no harm. Take care. Your presence here is displeasing to the Great Mother and could bring down all Her wrath on your heads. As it is, it will take weeks to purify this sacred ground again.”

  No one moved. They all stared fixedly at me, frozen in place. Clearly this was the moment when I might lose it all. Choosing the youngest and most frightened-looking of them, likely another green boy right off the farm, I swung those terrible fingers at him and shouted, “You! Now! Or do I have to come with my snakes to help you move?!”

  He was shaking visibly, clearly caught between his fear of me and his fear of the other men. “Now!” I shouted again, putting all my force into that one word. With a whimper he slouched forward to lay down his torch, never taking his eyes off me. As no one else moved, I turned and pointed to another. “Now you,” I thundered. When he moved to do as I said, I pointed to another and another. Suddenly they were all rushing forward on their own, one after the other, faster and faster as if eager to be rid of that dangerous fire, all the while watching me as rabbits watch a snake.

  I never took my eyes from them or dropped my pose, not for an instant. The snakes kept up their part of it, too, continuing to writhe and hiss and strike. Soon there was a fair-sized blaze on that flat rock. The men were shuffling about uneasily. They needed one last push. I raised my arms to the sky and drew myself up to my greatest height. Trying to make my voice even more terrible than before, though by now I was growing hoarse, I bellowed, “The Goddess is very angry at your intrusion into Her sacred space. Do not return or send any others. From now on the snakes will be watching. If any of you come here to do evil again it will cost your life. Be grateful you are being spared by Her mercy. NOW GO! BE GONE!”

  They were staring at me in silence, eyes bulging, mouths open. I could see it would take something more to dislodge them. I had nothing more. My voice was going fast and would likely crack the next time I tried to use it in that way. One block had come loose and I could scarcely keep my balance. My arms were aching, bending down under the weight of the snakes. Sweat was pouring down my face and running like a little river between my breasts. I saw the end coming soon. Help me, Mother! I called out silently. Suddenly, with a cry, one man broke and ran. At that signal all the others followed, running pell-mell, da
shing out of the clearing, stumbling and crashing through the woods.

  Sucking in big gulps of air, I stood there till there were no more sounds of men. When I heard the first night bird call I took two careful steps backward into the house, shut the door and slammed the bolt in place. One block fell off and I kicked free of the other. With aching arms I went to slip the snakes back into their basket where they quickly coiled about each other while I replaced the lid.

  As fast as I was able I undid the breast-cups, slipped off the headdress and the necklace, laid the bracelets back on the altar and undid the sash so I could step out of my gilded skirt. Soon I had stripped down to my own skin. I stood naked and unbound in the center of that space.

  On sudden impulse I flung my arms wide and shouted with relief. The house, the snakes, myself—all were safe. Outside only a remnant of the fire remained, burning like an offering on an altar stone. Other night birds were answering the first, a good sign that the woods had cleared and were safe again. Now was the time to repair the damage I had done and have it all in place before Hamiuri returned.

  I turned and caught sight of my face in the glass, myself and not myself with the face paint running in the sweat. Suddenly I saw the scene again, saw myself propped up on two blocks playing Goddess, and all those men crashing off headlong into the darkness. I began to laugh and slap my leg. I laughed and laughed till I was bent over with it and my ribs hurt, but I could not stop. I fell to my knees laughing and at last crumpled to the floor. I was rolling back and forth in an agony of mirth. I was choking with it and could hardly catch my breath. My belly ached with the pain of it and still I could not stop laughing. I might have gone to my death in that way if Hamiuri had not come in and slapped me smartly on both sets of cheeks. “So this is how you stay out of trouble,” she said, as she pulled me to my feet. “Olna had to climb in the window to unlatch the door.”

  With tears running down my face, I sobered enough to sit down and tell them both all that had happened in their absence. While I spoke, Olna gently cleaned the paint from my face with a damp cloth. As soon as that was done, she went out to look for the man who had been burned, saying she would call us for help if she found him. Hamiuri meanwhile went on with her relentless questioning while I struggled to answer her as best I could. When Olna came back she was shaking her head. “I found the burned place, but the man was gone, probably taken away by his companions.”

  “What did you want with him?” I asked her suspiciously.

  “To see if he was alive and in need of healing.”

  I felt a sudden flush of anger, “Do you understand that he was the man who just tried to kill me? What does he need with your healing?”

  She looked at me with pity in her eyes and seemed about to speak. Instead she shook her head and turned away.

  Chapter Twenty

  If I needed more punishment for my part in Marshlegs’s death, I certainly found it in full measure on the ride back to camp. I think the horse Olna and Hamiuri found for me must have been designed for that very purpose. Though time on his back was a misery every step of the way, I kept my mouth shut on it. Hamiuri had already made it clear that it had been no easy task to find three horses so quickly. Most likely they had been borrowed in Pell’s style of borrowing. I knew better than to ask. The Witches had brought back with them two sturdy cart-ponies and a huge lumbering beast who took an instant dislike to me but, nonetheless, was mine to ride.

  To go back a little in this tale, as soon as Hamiuri had pulled all my story from me, she jumped to her feet, saying, “Done, finished, over, we must be quickly gone from here.”

  “You think they will be back?” Olna asked.

  “Yes, I am sure of it, as sure as we are standing here. I am sure they will be back, and I think it likely they will burn down the hut. That is the way of men. They cannot stand to be made fools of. For a little while their fear will keep them away, but soon enough they will realize they have been tricked. Then they must have their revenge, if not on our bodies then on my shelter. Since it will not burn easily they will probably have to throw down the very rocks themselves to be satisfied.” She had been pacing around as she spoke. Now she stopped and said abruptly, “Here, both of you now, help me with the guard-rock.”

  Together, with me pulling and Hamiuri and Olna pushing, we shoved aside a huge flat stone that kept secret a large, rock-lined pit in the floor.

  I stared into it with surprise. “Quickly,” Hamiuri said, giving me a poke, “quickly, everything must go in.”

  Everything from the wardrobe and bureau—armloads of robes, bedding, pots and pans, even the window glass—all vanished into the pit. Hamiuri had carefully unhooked the little wooden window frames, and we laid the glass carefully and lovingly between layers of cloth.

  “They will not have the pleasure of breaking my windows. That glass was too dearly gotten.” That dark glass for looking into was also gently packed away.

  At some moment I straightened and said, “Why abandon all this, Hamiuri? Why not stay here and guard the house? Surely I can find my own way back to the others.”

  “No, I want to have the pleasure of delivering you safe to Alyeeta myself. I have seen enough of her grief. Besides, how could we guard it? We ourselves would become a target for their wrath. For all our powers, we Witches are much easier to kill than the star-brats. And what is there to guard anyhow? Some poles, some rocks, some thatch. How many sleepless nights do I wish to spend on that? They must do what they must. We cannot stop them. A snake trick will not work a second time. Besides, how can I trust you to stay out of trouble after what you have already shown me?”

  Now guilt was at my throat, “Oh, Hamiuri, I am so sorry. You are being driven out of your home, and all because of my willfulness.”

  She gave a loud, sudden laugh and her whole manner suddenly seemed to change. She even stopped her work to look at me. “You? All by yourself? You are responsible for this? No, child. Life moves, life changes. Things go as they go at the hand of One greater than ourselves. Perhaps I was done here. Perhaps it was time to leave anyway. So be it. They may have tracked you, they may have tracked the others. Or perhaps some clever guard captain in the town of Morthaine thought this a likely hiding place for star-brats and sent out some of his men, or maybe he only wanted a good excuse for burning out an old Witch. I left myself open to this by meddling in the affairs of humans again. The fault is more mine than yours. After all, it was not you that came to fetch me.” Then she clapped her hands for action. “Quickly! Quickly! They will soon be back.”

  Mostly we worked in silence with only a few short brusque commands from Hamiuri, but every once in a while she would pause and say to me, “Tell me again how you held the snakes,” or “Show me how their faces looked when you stepped out that door.” Then she would begin to shake all over with mirth. “Hee-hee-hee-hee, a hundred men scattered like leaves by my old toothless snakes, hee-hee-hee.” I had never thought to see Hamiuri attacked by a fit of giggles.

  As soon as we had finished and replaced the rock, Hamiuri took up her broom and with the handle of it began knocking bundles of thatch from the roof and scattering it around. Then she swept the ashes out of her neat hearth so that everything was soon covered with a coat of gray dust. As we walked out she had Olna help her lift the door. They left it hanging from one hinge at a crazy angle in the door frame. She dusted off her hands on her brown skirt, took one last look at her work, and nodded with satisfaction. “Gone thirty years at least. If they get up the courage to come and look, then perhaps they will not think it worth the trouble.” Outside she turned back, raised her hands, said some strange words, and made what I took to be warding signs.

  Olna, meanwhile, had packed us trail bread, fruit, and water. I went quickly to help her with the horses. My huge brute seemed unaccustomed to saddle and bridle. He kept trying to step sideways out of my reach until Olna put a gentling hand on his neck and whispered some words in his left ear.

  “They could at least
have left me a horse,” I grumbled ungratefully to myself as I hauled my battered body onto his back.

  “Oh, indeed,” Hamiuri said sharply, catching my words. “And how could I have cared for a horse in these woods? What would I have fed it on? Nuts and berries and betel leaves perhaps. Besides, how were they to know your horse would be killed, or that you were even coming back? As it was they waited and waited for you far longer than they should have, filling up my little space with their noise and clutter.”

  The last thing Hamiuri did was strap on the snake basket, handling it with care and crooning softly to them. Before that she stood staring at it, her face full of indecision. “If I let them loose they are so old they will likely starve or they will come back here and be killed. If I take them with me, who knows if they will survive the journey.” She seemed close to tears. Then with a sudden nod of her head, she said, “ We are too old to be separated now.”

  There was a little earth glow and a quarter of a waxing moon to ride by that night. The Witches seemed well content with their ponies. They went at a brisk clip and moved with agility through the trees. My big clumsy beast I secretly named Bone-Crusher. He seemed afraid of the woods and went sideways at a nervous half trot, bumping me into rocks, tree trunks and branches or running up against the rear of whichever pony was in front of us so that sometimes that little creature would lash out in annoyance with its heels. Then Hamiuri would turn and flash me an angry look, and say scathingly, “I thought star-brats had a way with horses.” Never in my life had I had so little communion with any creature. When I tried to reach out for that familiar mind-touch that I always had with horses, I was met by a strange dead tone of absence that made my head hurt. The riding was no better when we came to flat open land. While the ponies ran on ahead, the fastest I could get my brute to move was at a hard, bone jarring half trot that left me gasping for breath. In spite of this I was so glad to be alive and free of the guard and to have Eezore safely behind me that at moments my heart would leap up and I would feel like singing. Then I would think of what lay ahead of me at camp and my likely reception there and my heart would sink back to the pit of my stomach.