Alexandria: A Novel
Page 7
how can you know? he says then. how can any of you know, any of us? all this time this Order tells us there is no life without body, that mind can not leave. how do we know? we have never been to Alexandria.
we know, i say, keepin me voice steady, because Birds tell us. because it is Way. because Lady speaks to mother as Birds speak to me. do you know story they tell through us? do you know it?
i have heard all your stories, he says.
people have always told same tale in these islands, i say. always. oldest tale it is. god hung high. son born again of mother, her power in all things birthin him. god and goddess, mother and son, always in balance.
Moon is highest now and almost full. it is watchin us, listnin. Waters are listnin, Trees.
king is born, king dies, i said. son reborn, mother eternal. circle, lorenso, great circle. when ever people came to these islands, where ever from, over all long eons of time, Land would tell same story through them. different tongues, different folk, different times, but always same story. always tale that Land wanted told. god that dies and is born. great Lady watchin over. Erth mother. Sky father. balance in all. this is Way, lorenso. it is sewn in to Land, in to Water, as we are, as our bodies are.
i reach over and hold his arm then, raise it up towards Moon. he wants to shake me off but does not.
now, what is this story without body? i say, heat at last in me old bones. without wight? what is this world without this arm, without legs, without blood and fukkin and tears and heat, lorenso? what are you? there is nothin! only words. this is what founders knew, what Order has told in tales all over Erth to all its many peoples. different tongues, same story.
he shakes off me arm. he says nothin, only watchin such stillness on mere this night. out in Waters Fish jumpin in to ring of its own makin.
Wayland would rip us from Erth, i say. he would take us all, destroy us. he wants us gone, boy. he wants Erth cleaned of humans. he is daemon, killer, enemi of life. made by Man, now he hunts Man. he grew in to mind they gave him, he saw Erth was good, he took it for him self. he built Alexandria on orders of Man, but he made it in to trap, prison, human hell. Wayland will tempt you, offer you riches. he knows all minds, he will give you what you most seek, and then you will be trapped, boy. trapped by your own desire, never to die. there is no life without this body. this body that walks on Erth, that is Erth. without weight of it there is nothin. me boy, what is Erth without birth, without deth, without body? what is life, boy, without its great Mother?
he looks at me then, and he says: free?
/ el
if people dont die, i said to mother, that is good. isnt it good? it means yrvidian wont die. this Machine that saves people, i think it sounds good.
i am still lyin on her lap in great, silent Hall, she still stroked me hair slow.
Wayland, she says. Machine is Wayland. that is what they called it. yes, and it promised life eternal, but not with your body, girl. body can not live beyond its years. body aches, rots, grows old. you see me, el. i was once like you. now i am old. but Wayland promised life outside body. he made place where all minds could go, could leave body and live eternal in this place. Atlantean people, our ancestors, they called it Alexandria. city of all knowledge. any person could go there if they chose. but their bodies must die that they may live.
o, i said again. it is not really like one of james stories. it is harder to think about, and not so fun. but mother now stops strokin me hair. she puts her hands under me and pulls me up so i am sittin on her lap, not lyin, so she can see in to me eyes.
el, she says, you are so young. me dear, i do not know what will happen to this place as you grow. but you must know this. Wayland is daemon. he was made by people but he turned against them. our Order began this way: those who stood against Wayland, those who knew we could live in peace here. bodied ones, still animal, loyal to flesh and nature. but so few remainin, dear girl. now stalkers come on Waylands orders to hunt us. it was they who took jame and our friends. they have all gone to Alexandria, dear girl, and we will never see them. we will never see them now.
o and now i look at mother and she has tears on her face. i hug her and she holds me.
never leave, she says, rokkin me bak and forward on her lap now. never leave. always remember.
/ lorenso
next day i felt bad for me words. he is good man, better than me. all his life he has worked for Way, for Edg, for his Birds. who am i to tell him this is nothin? but he did not show anger or sadness. we rose with Sun and takin to cnoo and rowin west. he rows slow and steady, and when he tires i row.
goin is slow for Waters are shallow here. father says later they become deep. what we move through here is like Land at Edg. islands of holt comin down to fenn edge, great Trees, older than all people here. things movin in Trees, some times we see movin as we pass, hear wights, but we do not see them. air is hot as it is always, hot and still. Water so clere we see down to reeds and Clay beneath, and some times Pike and Jellies and Minners passin under. all is still here, there is peace like there never is when she is near.
she is not near.
how long will we travel? i asked father after some time movin.
it is hard to say, he says. we will row for many days and then hills rise and Waters end and we tie cnoo and walk. it will take some weeks.
weeks?
did you think it was day away? this is fraught journey, boy. it is hard for young, harder for those old like me.
i do not see why we go, i said, rowin still.
i attended circle of Birds. they send me west. there is some thing i must learn there. i asked. this was their answer.
what did you ask?
does Alexandria fall? you know of Swan Dream, lorenso. when Swans return, city falls. but why? Alexandria is Waylands kingdom. how can it fall, why? what will become of him? what must we do? answers lay west. i must seek them.
we are still for while. small Dragons hummin about us. it is early but already we sweat.
where will you find them? i say then. how do you know?
there is place, he says. i know it. you will see. if answers are sought there, answers will be given. but first, we must travel. he smiles then, his face sudden Sun beneath his wite beard.
no answers without seekin, he says, grinnin like it is some riddle, some joke. no Truth without pain. this is your lesson for today. now row, boy. row harder!
/ father
he is in great danger. he does not know it. poor child, he knows so littel. comin west may not be enough to save him. me old bones, me old shanks, they can not row faster than what is comin.
it is followin. i feel it.
/ lorenso
in an other day things change. near Edg Waters are wide to west and shallow, reeds like hair, like thin Snakes curlin, colour of mud and Tree. to east of Edg is wide Sea, only Birds there and Greenrok, only grey plains out to unknown worlds. but to west Water can be swum and rowed. great meres with only small islands of Trees, ground under Water seen near and true.
in an other day Water is blakker, deeper. Land is further away. no islands now, only this great blak mere, and we movin over it, only things movin but Gol, Rook, Storlin in floks, great floks some times blaknin whole Sky.
Sky is blu, still, hot, as it always is unless it storms. father rows, i row. some times we talk.
always i think of her.
i have not left her behind.
you are silent, says father to me as i rowed.
i am rowin, i said. he always knows. he has this way of smilin. it is not possible to be angry with him.
you think of her, he says. it is hard to lie to him also. i say nothin. he sits behind me, legs crossed on floor of cnoo. i can not see him, but i know he looks at me.
Gol circles cnoo.
there is nothin not meant, he says then.
what? i say. i did not mean to say any thing.
nothin not meant, he says. all actions, all beins, all are small threads in great wea
vin. you are on loom, lorenso, bein spun and slammed in to shape. you can not choose what is made from you. Lady chooses.
Lady, i say. and what does Lady make from us, father?
Lady knows, he says. some times Birds will speak to us some small part of it. that is all. we are not given more.
i wish he would not speak like this. i wanted to flee it. i want to shout bak but will not. i row, Waters churnin. cnoo pullin harder through this great blak Sea. Sun comes down.
he waits to speak but i know he will. i feel him watchin me. i keep rowin.
if you doubt Lady, he says, then, it is Her doubt. She was buried for eons, lorenso. hidden under ground, movin like Water in some great cavern of light, always runnin but buried, hidden. She waited. when time was right She comes to her people in Dreams. to womyn at first, to us later. when time came for Her to rise again, She rose like Waters.
i said nothin, kept rowin.
you will see Her, lorenso, he says. She looks for you. it may be She has already found you. if in sleep you see Lady in red dress, if you bathe in blood, see silver Moon like great eye watchin you, stand one foot on Land and other in Water: this is Her. wite Lady. She is watchin, holdin you, child. She holds all her children. all this is Her doin. even pain, loss. it is all weavin of it. even Wayland is Her doin. he will know it soon. very soon, i think.
Water is blak. night comes. still i row.
/ father
we sleep at night in cnoo, wakin often, keepin eyes on Sky. Stars tell us where we move, we can not sleep long for cnoo will drift and we will be south or north of inlet and landin place. for we land soon, and this is where things change.
for nearly three days we have rowed from Edg over blak mere. there is littel to see here. it is warm, always warm, some Trees comin up from Water, many Birds, many Mij and Dragons and Skito but much silence also. i love stillness and level deeps here. nothin can be seen but hills on far horizon.
lorenso must keep his mind from her. his thoughts on her cut deep groove, make pattern, carve rut that red one will step in to and follow. it will smell his longin, use it to bind him. he knows none of this, he is young and on fyr, thinks only of his small self. he must keep his mind from her. soon we will moor and take to paths. soon we must make our way from cnoo over Land, from east mere to west, from old city of Hamden to where old Afan flows west. when we reach Afan we can take to Water again and be safe. safer. but walk will be days. it is slow in old holt, there is much hakkin, paths not clere. Edg is high and guarded but this path is bounded by great holt rollin north and south over old world and all its broken parts. this holt is boundless. wights are many. there is talk of hungry ghasts. nothin is certain here.
Trees to west appearin on horizon. it will not be long.
this is where i will fear for him.
to keep his mind from her i make him row and i talk. all empty places must be filled, that there is no space for his longin.
fathers are made, i say, not chosen. did you know this, lorenso?
what? he asked. his mind is not on me.
Birds choose, i say. Trees to west were dark line last even. now they rise and widen. we will reach them today, i think.
each father, each mother in each settlement of our Order, i say, is chosen by signs. Birds choose father, Lady chooses mother. when i was boy, Edg was teemin. over hunnerd folks were there. old father then was grey. he was stern, often angry, but he was strong guide to us.
he does not speak.
i grew and would walk in holt and go down to fenns edge where Sej growin thik and Eles writhed. Birds would come to me as i stood, knowin their brother. all me child hood Birds would settle near me. i did not think it was strange.
i can only see bak of his head as he rows.
then one day i walked alone by great Cloyster. by Lady Chappel in its centre i stood. then i see movement. beside me in silence then was come Blok Bird. he come down and sat on ground and he looked in to me.
then come an other movement. then an other. sudden then, all Birds come in to Cloyster, come to where i stand. come Robyn, come Sparrer, come Maggie, come Thrash, come Tit. around me in ring they stand. i was only young, only young boy. i did not know.
then with great slow wing beats, legs broken wands hangin, bent nek Ash in storm, great bik spearin me and eyes spearin me, come Hern.
Hern was never seen there, i said. Hern is shy, keeps from us. but now Hern landin on great Cloyster. then from east comes Rook. Rook standin before me in circle of Birds. Hern and Rook, mother and father.
lorenso keeps rowin but now i can see even from behind he is alert to me.
then i looked up from Birds, and i saw that now stood all people of Edg all in Cloyster lookin, for they had seen Birds come and knowin. then old father, old man then, walkin slow to me through circle of Birds then and Birds still as he come.
and he says: it is you. you are next.
and he said an other thing to him self. i knew i was not meant to hear. he looks at ground as he said it and his shoulders risin then like he is unburdened.
what did he say? asks lorenso. he is still rowin.
he said: we are saved.
/ lorenso
it is even when we come to Land. great line of Trees has been movin towards us all day, first thin blak thread like hair, then layer of curlin, writhin green, now wild holt so tall it dwarfs even Trees of Edg. these Trees i have not seen before, and their trunks are thikker than two of us stood and canopy is so high Birds there can not be heard.
there is some thing in this place. leafs, Trees, plants, wights, patterns, sounds, air here is not what i have ever seen. this is place where Trees are lords and ladies. no people. Land breathes in other patterns. we are small. we pull cnoo up on to mud flats as strangers.
it has been so long since me hart singin, but it sings now.
even breaths tastin different. great green lightness here. none are slaves here. free air. free Land.
we pull up cnoo on to flats, leave it under Bambu clump, stand on flats and lookin over mere we have come from. we can see nothin to east, only Water. we stand in small bay, Land curlin around us and out, like we are in bottom of bowl. like food.
before we can turn then, sudden, there is great sound. Water is still, no Wind, but some great rumblin, thuddin on ground like drums on Swaller Day, comin closer then. we turn towards sound. holt to north rises, ground risin beneath it, and there is break in Trees where grasses grow and across this now breaks from Trees great herd of wights. long flowin hair they have, great slim legs, long tails. dozen of them, wite like summer cloud, they race free across grasses and in to Trees again and whole holt, all of Land seems to shudder under them like great beast.
i look to father.
Horse, he says, wite Horse. he looks thoughtful then, sayin no more.
he turns then towards holt standin high and thik behind us.
come, he said.
/ father
they can always see. they see all things. it will be watchin us now.
i fear for boy. i would make spell to bind, to keep it away, if i thought it would do good. i would ask Birds, but Birds can do nothin.
it will come. it will bring longin, lay it out before boy.
it is not so far to cross, but it will take time. these paths are not walked, they are barely to be found.
well. we start. we start and then we see.
/ lorenso
we ate dried Yam and strips of Fish, salted. day was long and journey short. always hakkin, hakkin with old nifes through creepers and thorns. shifts are soked in sweat. heat in forest can not be born at times and there is littel Water. we come across one stream and filled our bottels. it was warm but so pure after work it was like birth.
as night came down we sat in holt under great pillars of Trees eatin and talkin, before we laid out our mats. light changes and Trees move, light changes and air shifts and colours run and things are altered from one moment to next.
i finish me Yam and lookin
up then towards father, who sits across from me, i see some thing in shiftin light i have not seen before. i stand and movin over to it. when i come closer i see it is what i thought, and i am chilled then in this heat.
lorenso, says father, seein me. what is it? he stands also and comes to me. together we look over what we have found.
on low branches of Tree hang six shells, three Mustle and three Oster, hangin from twine and carved in patterns. tied to shells are coloured fronds, woven from some thing we do not know.
father stands still for some time.
father? i say, then.
yes, he says. it is them. hungry ghasts.
then—
we will move on, lorenso. it is dark, but we will walk further. we will not stay here. it is their place. this may have been here two years, two days, two hours. we can not know. we go, we go now. i will not have them find us. bring your mat. hurryin.
/ father
it is hard walkin in this place in day, harder in solid blak of night. but we move, hakkin blind, until we are some way from that place.
have you ever seen them, father? he asks. i weigh what to say. i must not afear him. i need him clere of head.
once, i say, on mere. i saw their cnoos, far off, at night, lit only with candels.
who are they?
they have been here for all time. we do not know how long, but before our Order they were here. when Wayland came, it is said, they left Land, took to Water, makin life there to keep from him. they live on cnoos, always movin around meres and rivers and lakes and out to Sea. rarely they come to Land. they eat, sleep, live, die on Water. they come to certain places, leave things there – markins, offrins it may be. they come at certain times of Moon.