As they moved through the crowd Azkun heard a voice call.
“It's Kopth! Kopth is among us again!”
Heads turned to look at them, those nearby moved closer to see them better.
“It is! It's Kopth in human form! They said he was dead.”
They pressed around them, reaching to touch Azkun.
“Stay with us!” cried a woman. “Kopth, stay with us.”
The cry was taken up by the rest of the crowd and Azkun could feel their longing for him. It was like that of the folk of Deenar when he left, it was like the place where they had sacrificed a maiden to him. Anxiously he looked about for a white-robed figure with fuzzy thoughts. But they were unprepared. Besides, Vorish had forbidden the sacrifice.
But Azkun was afraid of what they might do. The guards fended off people who tried to grasp Azkun’s legs. They used spear butts and their captain had a whip that he cracked to open the crowd ahead of them. Azkun felt the sting of it across a man’s face.
“Stop! Put down your whip! Stop!” Confused the captain turned his horse.
“What is it, M’Lord?”
“I must speak to these folk.”
He raised his arms above his head and the chanting faded to an expectant silence.
“People of Atonir! The last time I was here you saw me heal a man. It was not I who healed him, it was the power of the dragons.
“You have heard of the land of Gashan. I have been to that land. I have seen the Gashans preparing for war and they are dreadful to behold.” There was a low sigh from the crowd. “They will not fight with swords and spears, they will fight with magic. They will sweep down from their foul swamps in the spring and overrun Anthor. They will not stop there, they live for murder, nothing more. They will blast the great Lansheral and they will be at your gates by autumn.”
He felt their fear. There was none to question his words, he was Kopth to them.
“But this need not happen. While the Emperor sends swords and spears to aid Anthor I travel to Kishalkuz.” There were cries of ‘no’ and ‘don't leave us’ from the crowd, for this was Kopth saying he was going home, abandoning them.
“Your only hope is the dragons. You worship Kopth, but that is only a shadow of the truth. I am not Kopth. I am a messenger of the dragons of Kishalkuz. The dragons will deliver you from Gashan, not swords and spears. This is my promise to you. I go to Kishalkuz to ask their aid. I go to summon the dragons.”
For a moment they were stunned and confused. He had said he was not Kopth, yet he was going to Kishalkuz. But he had said that Kopth would deliver them from Gashan. A hesitant cheer broke out which grew.
“Kopth, Kopth, Kopth,” they cried, and the crowd opened before them, letting them pass through.
It troubled Azkun that they had not understood, that they still shouted for Kopth. But there was little he could do about that now. Besides, they would see the truth when the dragons delivered them.
Their boat was larger than Azkun had been led to expect by Shelim and Althak. But it was not as big as Awan’s boat that had brought them south. The vessel had only a short mast and the stern was not raised above the rest of the deck. As with all Vorthenki ships the carved dragon prow glared fiercely ahead.
“It'll be a long journey in a little boat,” said Shelim as they climbed aboard. “But at least we need fear no storms with you aboard.”
The crowd from the streets filled the docks, hoping to catch another glimpse of Kopth as he sailed away. They were strangely silent now as Shelim and Althak unfurled the sail and cast off. A breeze filled the sail, pulling it taut, and slowly the boat moved away from the pier. They watched as if this were a solemn occasion. Their god was leaving them, and Azkun felt their solemnity, their belief in him.
He stood on the stern, grasping the gunwale as their thoughts washed over him. A voice sounded in the crowd as they pulled away, the voice of a young girl raised in song, and others almost immediately swelled it. He perceived enough to know they sang an ancient hymn to Kopth, an invocation and a plea rolled into one. Behind them the megalithic palace of Gilish loomed like a mountain, dwarfing the people and even the city, but even against that the spontaneous singing of the Vorthenki held a vital significance. It was people, not stone, that mattered. For all Gilish’s mighty works he was dead. His buildings were only piles of stone. These folk on the docks were alive and they needed him.
He raised his arms, reaching out to them.
“I will return,” he cried. “I will return to you! I will bring dragons to save you!”
Chapter 30: Secrets
The sparring session Adhara had promised Menish did not take place. Althak’s departure left the King shattered. He had expected to spend the rest of the day conferring with Althak, Adhara and a few others, making what plans were appropriate at this stage. But most of those plans were to have included Althak and Azkun. In despair, though he was careful not to show it, he closed the court for the day and went riding with Adhara. He wanted to get away from these people who would make demands on him, to come to terms with Althak’s defection.
Menish whipped his horse with the anger he felt for Althak and galloped furiously along the riverbank. Adhara made little attempt to keep up with him. They were riding a well-known track. She would catch up when his anger cooled.
The cold wind on his face and the eventual snorting protests of the horse did their work on him and at last he stopped to let the horse drink. The tired animal picked its way down to the water while Menish stood on the horse track. The winter wind still blew on his face and the sky looked like snow. It was winter and he would die in the spring. He kicked at a stone, sending it flying into the water where the splash startled the horse. Damn Althak! How could he have listened to Azkun’s madness? Had he lost all reason? He was supposed to help convince Azkun to fight, not chase after his dragons. He was just a Vorthenki following his obscene gods. Menish had always known he continued to revere Kopth so what else should he expect? But Althak was different. Menish remembered the plea in Althak’s voice as he had announced his intention to fight Gashans the best way he knew. It was all Menish himself was doing. It was all Vorish was doing. Even Adhara, who had no hope for their survival, was going to fight Gashan the best way she knew.
But to go running after Azkun’s dragons? It was ridiculous. Althak had more sense. It was simply a way of saving his own skin and dressing it up to make it look like noble self sacrifice. And yet? Yes, there was that plea for understanding in Althak’s voice. How could Menish understand a Vorthenki? How could Althak expect him to?
He heard the thudding of hoofs on the track. Adhara had caught up with him. Even before she spoke Menish could see she was displeased. This was their first opportunity to speak alone since Althak had gone.
“You've made an ass of yourself.”
“What did you expect me to do? Pat his blond head and send him on his way?”
“You could have made some attempt to keep him, but after your reaction to Azkun’s announcement you'd already made that all but impossible. Wasn't it obvious that Althak would accompany him? You said yourself Azkun trusted only Althak, how else do you think the gentle Vorthenki would respond? Especially when you abused Azkun. You left him with no friends but Althak and that dog-like woman who follows him everywhere. What else could Althak do?”
“What else could I do? Azkun insulted me in my own court. I was reasonable until then. I attempted to persuade him to stay and help. But once he began calling me a fool I had no choice. I was generous to give them horses.”
“So now you've lost Althak and your hopes of Azkun are ruined. Yet you still do not see it? I've never seen you make such a blunder, and I have known you a long time, O King.”
She was looking at him in a way he did not recognise, as if she was more his subject than his wife. It frightened him, he did not want her to change, not now. He could not afford to lose her as well. For a fleeting moment he wondered if his guilt with Thalissa had been finally exposed,
but that was impossible.
“What's this ‘O King’? You can usually think of a worse address than that if you're angry.”
“I was going to ask you something. But your treatment of Althak and Azkun makes me hesitate.” She climbed off her horse, allowing the animal to go and drink. “Do you remember we came here years ago in summer, when we were young?” Menish remembered. A short way down the river was a cluster of trees that had afforded them enough privacy to enjoy their love in the open air. But it was winter now and they were too old to put up with the discomforts of the hard ground.
“I remember.”
“I never told you something about that grove of trees. I'm not sure if I should tell you now.”
“But obviously you are going to tell me,” said Menish, annoyed at her obscurity.
“It's sacred to Kiveli. It's a… traditional place for women to take their husbands.”
“Really? I'd thought we discovered the place for ourselves.”
“I know. That's what many of the men of Meyathal believe.”
“You mean they all go there?”
She shrugged. “Many, not all. I've not waited in the bushes to see. I knew you'd be displeased, you thought it was only the two of us knew. But there is more.”
“Go on,” said Menish, mystified as to where this was leading.
“This will displease you more. We send our young women there before they marry to learn… about marriage.”
“What? You mean they spied on us?”
She nodded.
“It's an old custom.”
Menish was shocked and somewhat embarrassed. “You mean you've been sending girls down to that grove to spy on married couples taking their pleasure since Aton knows when?”
“Actually since Kiveli knows when, but what you say is true.”
“And you knew someone was watching us?”
She grinned wickedly. “Of course, it was arranged. The girl told me afterwards she was impressed.”
“Flame of Aton! Who was it?”
“You don't really want me to tell you. She doesn't live at Meyathal.”
“I'm relieved… and did you go there before we married?”
“Of course.”
“Why can’t women learn the way men do, a quiet talk with someone older and an attentive eye on the cattle?”
Adhara laughed.
“Perhaps we could. But we're not cows to be covered. You must remember we're on the receiving end of rutting, I know some women who've decided to forego marriage when they learn what's involved.”
It did not seem enough justification for Menish, but he thought of several women at Meyathal who were past the usual marriage age and who had not found husbands. It was not uncommon. Was this the reason?
“Why are you telling me this now? You've kept this secret from me for years.”
“This is just one of the secrets we women have. You men think you're the only ones with your secret initiations at the Chasm of Kelerish and your oracular fire towers. But we women still guard the old faith of Anthor. You dismiss it as women’s tales you were told as a child. I wanted you to know that there are tales we don't tell our sons that we do tell our daughters.”
“So you have secrets too? You know what I think of the Sons of Gilish.”
“Yes, but you know their secrets. You don't know ours.”
“What are you trying to tell me?”
She took a breath, as if she was preparing herself to face Menish’s rage. “Last night you said Kiveli should preserve us from Gashan. What if I tell you that I think she can?”
“No! Not another offer of gods! Aton failed last time. I've sent Azkun on his mad way and he took Althak. What will you do?” He reached for her and they clung together. “Don't desert me to run after gods I don't know. I can manage without Althak. I can't live without you.”
She pushed him away and looked him eye to eye.
“You think that because you've heard one secret you know them all. You do not know Kiveli, O King.”
“I know gods are useless!”
“I know Kiveli is not!”
“Does no one want to fight Gashan with swords?” He turned away from her and walked down the track. “All I get are offers of divine help!”
“Menish!”
She almost never called him by name in private. They had a dozen pet names they used. He stopped and turned back to her.
“What harm can it do to ask Kiveli’s help? We don't need to travel to some unknown island to do it.”
“Do it then, but don't tell me more of your secrets.”
“Do you think I would have told you anything if I didn't need to? This goes deeper than you think. We have… ceremonies, traditions. It wouldn't be possible without your cooperation.”
“What would I have to do?” he asked her suspiciously.
“You needn't worry. I'll need to talk with some of the other women. Of course you'll have to swear never to reveal what you see.”
“More secrets?”
“They're secrets any Anthorian woman knows. It's only from men that these things are kept.”
“How soon will you know what's involved?”
“Not until tomorrow.”
“You speak of ceremonies and meetings, it sounds so much like the Sons of Gilish. How can I have been unaware of this for so long? I knew you had your women’s tales, but this is so organised. It's not just a Kruzan pool and a few yaks’ tails at a fight, is it?”
“I doubt if we've ever been as formal as the Sons of Gilish, but we do have long traditions. It's said that we shared them once with the men, but the coming of the Relanese changed that.”
“Because women are not permitted in the Sons of Gilish?”
“I suppose so.”
“I'll take part in your ceremony. I don't believe that Kiveli will deliver us from Gashan, but it may give them hope. They'll need all the hope they can get when we meet Gashan in battle.” Menish stopped, remembering something. He continued in a less serious tone. “Since we're telling secrets perhaps I should tell you one.”
She frowned for a moment, as if what he said disturbed her, then she smiled and he continued. “There's a place further up the river where the women often bathe in the summer. Not far off is a place where young men sometimes hide to watch them.” Menish looked at his feet, rather ashamed of this secret.
Adhara laughed.
“Of course they do! And our young women are always careful to let it be known when they go there. You spied on me once years ago, I made sure of it.”
“Shameless! Are you telling me you women are aware of this and allow it to go on?”
She touched his nose with her finger playfully.
“You're self-righteous, O King. These are things that are good for young people. Didn't you enjoy watching me?”
“Well, yes. Yes I did, of course I did.”
“I wouldn't have gone unless I knew you'd be there.”
“Yes, but I wasn't alone, Olcean was with me. He saw you too. Doesn't that bother you?”
“Well, I would rather you'd been alone, but I wasn't alone either. Mora was with me. I think it's rare for young people to go there by themselves. They need each other for courage.”
She was right, of course. Menish felt he had learned more about his people this afternoon than he had ever known before. Anthorian women were always so prim, reaching for their swords at the mere mention of Relanese polygamy or Vorthenki customs, that he would never have expected such behaviour of them. But, of course, Anthorian men were just the same when women were present. It was only when no women were there that they could relax and laugh at some of Althak’s Vorthenki jokes. He wondered what jokes the women told each other when no men were present.
The thought of Althak brought back his anger, but it had softened to something more like grief. He still disagreed with Adhara, there was nothing else he could have done or said to keep Althak and Azkun from leaving. It was done, over. He would not see Althak again, he
would perish in his search for his Vorthenki island, and Menish himself would perish in the coming battle.
“We'll all need each other for courage soon,” he said grimly. “Come, let's go back. You've arrangements to make.”
Adhara’s arrangements were so extensive that she did not come to their rooms that night. She had warned Menish that this might happen so he was not surprised, but he was curious about what she was doing. She had not been to the evening meal in the hall, there were no other women there either.
Menish sought out Bolythak. With Hrangil, Grath and now Althak gone he needed more lieutenants. Bolythak was an obvious choice, Drinagish would have to take more responsibility. Neathy would also be useful, but she was in the women’s lodge.
“What's going on tonight? Where are all the women?” asked Bolythak.
“There was some noise from the women’s lodge a while ago. Voices raised, someone screaming I think,” said Drinagish. “Maybe they had a fight in there.”
Or maybe they were telling jokes they would not tell in front of men, thought Menish, but he knew better than that.
“We could get one of the small boys to go and see. Olcish is still allowed in the women’s lodge. Hey, Olcish! Over here!”
Olcish came at Bolythak’s command.
“Do you know what's going on in the women’s lodge? Why are they still there? It's dinner time.”
“I don’t know,” said Olcish. “I think it's something to do with the Vorthenki. They ordered all of us out.” He gestured to a group of forlorn looking little boys. Keashil was with them, trying to cheer them with a lively tune. But Menish could see her heart was not in it. She was grieving that Althak had gone.
“Poor little beggars,” said Bolythak. “They look upset. They never did that to me when I was their age.”
“If they haven't come to dinner,” said Menish, “they may not come out to get them for bed. We'd better move them to the men’s lodge. It'll be too cold for them out here in the early hours of the morning.
“Olcish, did they order your mother out as well?” The boy nodded.
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