by Diana Rivers
None of the rest of us seemed able to make a move to stop this or even to speak. When they were both screaming, Telakeet withdrew their hands saying, “Perhaps that will be enough to remember by.” Then she crushed their tortured palms together, rubbing them against each other so that they screamed again. “A bond of pain to replace the bond of anger,” she said loudly as she bound their hands together with a scarf. With some ritual words she passed her fingers back and forth across the knots. “You will not be able to untie this till I tell you to. Meanwhile, you will feel each other’s pain as if it were your own, as indeed it will be. Bound together in this way you cannot move without the other’s consent. You will go everywhere together, to eat and sleep and even do your most personal business. Hopefully, by the time you are freed, you will have found a way to talk without insults, perhaps even some better way to show your love than by fighting with each other. Now go and work out your lives.” Awkwardly and hastily they backed away from Telakeet’s fierce glare and I heard myself screaming as I fell face forward on the ground.
When I came to I was lying under the trees and Pell was holding a damp cloth to my head, “Well, Tazzi, for all Alyeeta’s training you are still too much of an empath.”
I reached up and took her hand, “Oh, Pell, please do something, talk to Telakeet. This is too cruel. It has to stop. She will listen to you.”
Pell shook her head, “In the first place Telakeet listens to no one but herself, certainly to none of us and seldom even to the other Witches. Besides, I think she had Hamiuri’s consent and perhaps even her direction in this. In the second place I have done all I can for those two, all I can think of, and so have you, and so have many others. Let it run its course now. Let Telakeet do her worst or her best, however that might be and Hamiuri, too. They are welcome to it.”
“But Lhiri only spoke of love,” I pleaded.
“And how long would that take to turn to hate again. No, no, let it go, Tazzi. Let it go, I tell you and do not turn to me. It is out of my hands now and I am glad of it. I think all this playing at being a leader is a fool’s game, good only for making trouble for oneself. When this is over I will lie about in the sun getting fat and lazy. If women want something done they will have to ask me, maybe even twice or perhaps three times.”
“Who will be leader then, Pell? Who will keep us all together?”
“You, Tazzi,” she answered instantly as if the answer had been waiting there. “You, but not yet, remember that, not yet. It is still my curse to carry for a little while longer. Now if you are feeling well enough I will go back to what I was doing.” With no more words she stood up and strode away, leaving me shivering in the shade of the great trees.
Later I went with Lhiri and Nunyair to ask Olna for some healing salve, as nothing of mine seemed to ease the pain. She shook her head saying to them, “This is not my healing to do, nor is it Tazzi’s. It is your own. Put all your healing energy into each other’s hands. When you have learned to do that you will have learned much else as well.”
It was hard to believe that Olna would be so unfeeling. At last I ran to Shalamith in tears saying that the Witches were as cruel as the Zarn’s guards. She looked at me with a look that seemed full of pity and much else besides. With a gentle hand she reached out to stroke my hair. “It is far less painful than a banishment, Tazzi, and what other choices did we have? This hurts only the hand and that only for a short while. A banishment would likely cost their lives and what a waste that would be. Sometimes, when all else fails, a new pain is the best cure for an old pain.” This last part she said with great seriousness, then suddenly flashed me her shining smile. I shook my head thinking this a hard wisdom and did not speak to her for several days. Telakeet and Hamiuri I avoided altogether.
But, of course, Shalamith was more right than I was. Lhiri and Nunyair spoke softly to each other as they moved with care around the camp like bound twins. They slept wrapped together for comfort. When their hands healed they turned again to being lovers, but this time it was safe. The rage did not return. Later Nunyair confessed to me that if ever she felt some hint of her old anger coming back her hand would start to burn. That would be enough to quickly cool the fire.
Meanwhile my own affairs did not run so well. Rishka and I had fallen to quarreling again, though with some caution this time, but at last it grew so apparent that Olna finally sought me out to ask, “Tazzi, how is it you can mend the quarrels of others when your own heart is so bitter you cannot even mend your quarrel with your own lover?”
Her tone was gentle enough but I felt reproach in the words and bristled with offense. “Why ask me,” I snapped. “How would I know of such things? I am only a simple peasant girl. Ask the Goddess. It is She who distributes gifts. You no doubt speak to Her with ease.”
Olna raised her eyebrows at that and gave me a strange look that was not hurt, that was something else, though feeling rebuked I had no doubt meant to be hurtful. She said thoughtfully, “Well, Tazzi, a time may come when you will need an answer to that question. Asking the Goddess may be the best way to find it.”
I stared after her when she left, in an agony of confusion. Now, added to all my other feelings about Olna, was my shame and embarrassment. I had spoken spitefully to someone who never treated me with anything but kindness, even when it was least deserved. Her question was fair enough. It was the same question I asked myself so many times. Still, every time I saw her talking to Rishka, I bristled again and felt a rush of unreasoning anger. They talked together more and more now. When I asked Rishka what they spoke of she shrugged and would not answer. This, of course, only added to my anger.
***
There was a sense of expectancy all through the camp. It would soon be time to go. It was in the air, in every word we exchanged, in every piece of work we did—time to leave, time to be moving on. I was restless and discontented, eager for the change. The clearing, with so many of us crowded together there, had become almost untenable. Being on the move again meant being that much closer to some place where we could finally make a home, wherever that was, whatever that might mean.
Renaise, with the help of the Sheezerti, kept us all in readiness. Kazouri and Zenoria were constantly urging Pell to leave, saying it was only a matter of time before the Zarn moved against us. I saw Pell caught in between, wanting to be on the road as much as any of us, more perhaps, yet knowing that leaving meant an end to waiting for Irdris and the others, meant abandoning hope for them. She was also waiting for the last stragglers to be found, not wanting to leave anyone. And indeed new ones kept coming in, but never Irdris.
We doubled our sentries, set watchers at all the roads, but in the end it was not our own vigilance that kept us safe. It was Hereschell riding back with word. With an air of urgency he rode straight up to Pell while the rest of us crowded around.
“Tov from the Thieves Guild said you would remember him and that he owes you a life-debt. He sought me out to say that the guards know where you are and are massing in the hundreds. They hope to catch you all together in a great circle of fastfire and be done with star-brats and Witches all at once, or to scatter you and hunt you down one last time. You must leave as soon as you can make ready.”
Before he had even finished I saw Zenoria dash for her horse. She leapt on and rode past Hereschell at a run. “How long?” she shouted as she passed.
“Not long, they are already on the road in back of me,” he shouted back. “They are riding fast and gathering more as they come.”
Zenoria gave a loud wailing cry that was their signal. Jhemar, Rishka, Zari, and Daijar were all running for their horses. They galloped out of the clearing after Zenoria while the rest of us rushed to break camp with Pell and Renaise shouting orders.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Leaving! We were leaving! We were going at last! Going west, west to the sea, west away from Eezore, west out of reach of the Zarn’s guards, away from burning death, away from posted edicts that turned us into hunted anima
ls, away from the hatred of men. West!
Everyone was scrambling to pack. The clearing was in an uproar, a fast-turning wheel with Renaise at the hub, shouting commands. Pell had beckoned me over for some last-minute directions when I heard Alyeeta call out, “My books! The books must be saved!”
Pell began shaking her head, “No time for books,” she was muttering. “No time for that now.”
“Pell, we cannot leave her books. There is a world in them we will need. Besides, we cannot do that to Alyeeta, not after all her help to us.”
“There is no time for that now,” Pell said louder. “Remember your promise to obey me, Tazzi.”
I drew back from her. “No, Pell, not in this, no matter what I promised. This I must do even if you never speak to me again, even if afterward you drive me out of the gathering.”
She threw up her hands in disgust. “Goddess save me from such stubbornness! What use is it to be leader when no one listens? Go then and be quick!”
Ashai was already there before me, and so were all the Witches. They were packing Alyeeta’s shelter in a frenzy. “The books first,” Alyeeta kept saying, “only the books, nothing else matters.”
I worked beside Ashai, stuffing books into oiled sacks that could be strapped across a horse’s back. We worked together, mostly in speed and silence, until Ashai burst out in a voice thick with grief, “If Irdris were here she would be doing this with me instead of you.”
“Well, Irdris is not so we must do it ourselves,” I snapped savagely, anger covering my own grief. Ashai turned back to her packing, looking as if I had slapped her. After that she said nothing to me that was not needed for our work together.
In less than two hours the horses came pouring into camp with Zenoria in the lead. Women came running quickly to find their horses. Those with no horse to ride were hastily paired with one. The rest of the horses we began to load with everything from camp. All that Alyeeta was taking was already stacked by the entrance to her shelter. Ashai and I saw to it that the books found horse-space before we went on to other loading.
Well before nightfall we had cleared the camp, even scattering our temporary shelters, but there could be no question that many had sheltered there. The clearing was deeply trampled with the hooves of many horses. As Alyeeta mounted Gandolair I saw her looking back one last time. When she turned back and caught my eye she said with a shrug, “Who knows what will be left when I see this next.”
There were far too many of us now to move quietly and secretly anymore. The noise of all those horses on the move was like a steady rolling thunder in my head. We went by the straightest way, going northwest till we reached the Zarn’s highroad that ran true west from Eezore to the sea. Pell had already sent Kazouri and Jhemar riding north and south to warn the other gatherings that the time had finally come. We would likely meet with them on the next day’s ride. Josleen and Megyair had ridden ahead of us to warn Yaniri we were coming. Tzaneel and several others had gone back to Pell’s shelter to help organize the burned ones for departure. They would be coming by a slower and more secret route. Hereschell had promised that he would send back some Wanderer wagons to help with their moving.
We rode most of that night, only stopping for quick rests, and were on the road again shortly after dawn. Always before we had ridden in fear of discovery. Now it was very different. The way cleared in front of us as if by magic. Riders, farm wagons, even some fancy carriages pulled off to the side to let us pass. When we rode through villages people shouted and poured out to see us, but kept a careful distance. Each time, after the first rock or so returned to the sender, nothing more was thrown.
Often people watched in silence. “Khal Hadera Lossien!” Rishka would shout like a greeting, waving to them as we rode past. She had raised some sort of bright banner on a pole attached to Lightfoot’s saddle. I noticed that most of the other Muinyairin had returned to their own style of dressing. Many had banners or streamers decking themselves or their horses, brave, bold colors flapping in the wind. I had grown used to dressing in drab browns for concealment and trying to pass for a farm boy. Sporting bright colors and drawing attention to oneself in the Muinyairin manner seemed an act of outrageous daring.
By midmorning we even encountered a small company of guards, no more than ten or so. Pell, riding at the front, called out to them, “Quickly now, clear the road to let us pass and we will leave you unharmed. But do not try to block our way!” There was a frightened shout from their captain and some quick orders given. I must confess it gave me delicious pleasure to see them spin about and scramble up the bank to make way for us.
“Khal Hadera Lossien!” I shouted into their startled faces.
Others took up the cry, “Khal Hadera Lossien!” The sound rose and rose until the words lost all shape and meaning like wind howling through the trees when a storm is rising. Khal Hadera Lossien! Khal Hadera Lossien! Khal Hadera Lossien!
Shortly after midday I heard shouts in front of me and saw Kazouri’s great bulk at the head of another gathering, riding in from the right to join us at a crossroad. We flowed together, merging like the water of two rivers. Later that afternoon Jhemar joined us from the south. As far as I could see, looking forward and back, the road was filled with horses and with women riding. The Khal Hadera Lossien were on the move.
Cruzia, riding near me, began to sing in a high clear voice, “The river is rising, gathering more. We are the waters, we are the shore.” It was a simple Kourmairi farm song, sung in the fall for the return of rain after the summer drought, but it brought sudden tears to my eyes. Thalyisi joined her and then Renaise and then Zenoria. Other women all around me took up the song, some voices sweet and high, others deep and rich, “We are the waters, we are the shore...” I could even hear Pell singing, and a deep booming that must have been Kazouri. The sound rose and fell, sweeping forward in waves like a summer breeze through a field of grain. Ahead I could hear Shalamith singing with that heart-searing sweetness and power, “...river is rising, gathering more...” I added my own voice, “The river is rising...” The song itself was like a river. It seemed to gather us up and carry us forward. “The river is rising, gathering more. We are the waters, we are the shore...”
In some places there were people all along the road. Word must have gone out that the Star-Born were riding. They stayed safely back, sometimes staring at us silently as we passed, simple Kourmairi farm folk who themselves must have sung that song many times at Fall Festival. Khal Hadera Lossien, I said to myself over and over in my heart. We are the river, the river is rising...
***
The next morning Alyeeta rode up next to me. I was surprised to see her as the Witches had been keeping mostly to themselves. She was on a different horse, no doubt to give Gandolair a rest, and looked quite uncomfortable and out of sorts. I sensed immediately that her sudden appearance at my side was no accident, that in fact something was wanted of me, though at first I had no notion what it might be. She complained about the ride, the road, this fool of a horse she was stuck on, the guards, “May their guts rot out and their members drop off,” this stable-food she was expected to eat and worst of all these Khal Hadera Lossien that she had been foolish enough to join up with and for whose sake she had lost her home. The way she said those words, our proud new name, rolling them around in her mouth as if they had a bad taste, made us sound like so much trash. Still she said not one word of what she really wanted.
“Alyeeta,” I finally shouted in exasperation when I could not listen to any more, “what in the name of the Goddess is this all about!? What do you want of me?”
“I was about to tell you when you interrupted me,” she snapped. With that she fell provokingly silent, chewing on her lip.
“Alyeeta, please...”
She looked at me for a while with her eyes narrowed and things clearly working in her head, but well shielded from me. At last she said slowly, hesitating as if thinking aloud, “How do we know...How will we ever know...Maybe, after al
l, they did not...Maybe Hereschell was wrong or Tov from the Thieves Guild was wrong...maybe...” She fell silent again.
“Alyeeta, what is this all about? Say it so I can understand. What do you want?”
“To go back to see my hut and my clearing. To go back to see if they really came, if everything is really burnt and gone.”
“And you want me to go with you,” I burst out, finally understanding.
She nodded. “Only if you want to.”
“Oh, Mother,” I groaned. I turned away and found myself face to face with Pell who had ridden up on the other side of me and was looking at me intently. “And what do you want?” I snapped at her.
“I need to know what it is that follows us, how many and how fast. I could send another back but I would rather see for myself.”
“You want to go back and you want me to go with you, is that it?”
“Yes, but only if you want to. Otherwise Alyeeta and I will ride back together.”
“Madness! A fool’s plan!” I growled at her. “Only a mad woman would go back there.”
Pell nodded, “Only a madwoman, no doubt you are right. Find yourself a different horse and give Dancer a rest.”
That is how I found myself going back into danger, riding east with two madwomen on a strange horse when I wanted with all my heart to be riding west on Dancer’s back in a great river of women flowing to the sea. In the end, of course, I had no choice. I went back with them because I could not imagine going on without them. I would have had no peace with it and no sleep either. What if they did not return? What if, like Irdris...? No, it was better to go with them than not to know. Besides, I owed Pell a great debt. My debt to Alyeeta I could not begin to count. And I could not even grumble too much. What if they decided to leave me after all? Well, it was not the first time Pell and Alyeeta between them had decided my fate. I wondered as I rode if they had planned this together.
