by S. R. Cronin
A little over an ank later, my sister Sulphur came to check on me. I recognized her short blonde hair atop her horse in the distance and felt annoyed because I’d been enjoying my time alone. I didn’t need to be checked on.
However, once Sulphur tied up her horse, I saw she needed help. I’d seldom seen anyone so full of anguish, and certainly never my strong and sunny sister. She buoyed the rest of us up as we dealt with all of life’s drama. I couldn’t imagine her being brought down by drama of her own.
It took a bit of wine before she opened up that night in front of the fire. She told me of her desire to join the military of Ilari. I had no idea she harbored such an unusual dream but I did know that women had to go to extra lengths to get in.
She told me having a male sponsor helped; then I understood her fascination with Davor when she first met him. Of course he’d sponsor her. Then, after more wine, she confessed she’d already asked Davor to help her and he’d refused.
I wanted to chastise her for not coming to me first and letting me intercede but she didn’t need a reprimand, she felt poorly enough. So instead I pointed out it could still happen. I don’t think she believed me, but I intended to try.
Sulphur was a physical woman, tall and strong; the type who required vigorous exercise. So I kept her busy chopping and carrying wood and fetching water. I could do these things for myself but sensed that heavy work would help her cope. In the meantime, I put my problems on hold and tried to be positive for her. I managed until Sashi neared.
Adults traditionally celebrate all eight holidays with sexual activity as a way to honor the Goddess. New adults get a great deal of freedom during these festivities, while couples in love make extra efforts to be together. Married or not, if they can’t be with their lover, they do without.
So, whatever problems Davor and I had, I still expected him on the holiday. He’d want to do what people did. But Sashi came and went, and he never appeared. Sulphur tried to make excuses for him. The training program to repel the Mongols was in full swing. He’d already missed a few days for the wedding. But she and I both knew he could have ridden in for the night if he’d wanted to.
Finally, three days after Sashi, we saw a horseman in the distance. Sulphur threw her bags onto her horse, determined to leave before Davor arrived. As she left, she promised to send another sister back in a few days to check on me.
As the horseman drew closer, though, I could tell it wasn’t Davor. The rider was a woman, a tall, thin woman I’d never met. As she brought her horse to stop, she held her hands up in a universal sign of no harm intended.
I said nothing until she dismounted and tied up her horse.
“How can I help you?” I asked. She had fluffy hair starting to turn grey and soft eyes, but she made me nervous for reasons I didn’t understand. I tried not to show it.
“Get me some water.”
What a rude way to greet a stranger. Part of me wanted to tell her to get back on her horse and keep going, but another part of me felt strangely compelled to give her something to drink. I mean, despite the lack of courtesy, the request was reasonable. Of course her long ride had made her thirsty.
I turned to walk into my kitchen to get a cup, then I understood.
“You’re a luski!”
I steadied myself in the doorway at the realization of what this woman could do. She smiled at my perceptiveness.
“I am. A very good one, too. Your sister Ryalgar sent me here to answer your questions.”
“I’m grateful. I do have a lot of them.”
“Well then, it’s good I have a lot of time.”
Chapter 6. I Think You Need to Eat
Despite being a luski, I learned that Ewalina had a normal life in Pilk as a single mother who made her living assisting the medical people in a place of higher learning. No one she worked with knew what she could do, but she confessed to being less guarded than many.
“The people in my world would at least let me explain the truth if my being a luski somehow came to light. Others face more superstition than I would.”
She told me my sister Ryalgar had left the forest to travel around the realm to learn about the Mongols. People said the Velka asked her to devise a defense strategy for them. I had to smile. It sounded like Ryalgar wasted no time establishing herself as someone who liked to be in charge.
Ewalina had a close connection to the Velka, and Ryalgar sought her out while traveling and persuaded her to visit me. I appreciated that she had. At least I now knew being a luski was a real thing.
We spent most of the afternoon sitting in my front room by the fire, talking about people and life. I offered Ewalina afternoon wine and some of the little apple cakes I’d made to celebrate Sashi. She answered my questions while she ate.
I told her everything about me, perhaps more than I’d ever told any single human being. Certainly more than I’d ever told Davor. Before the afternoon ended, Ewalina decided I was a luski, despite not yet giving birth. Oddly, by then her proclamation didn’t surprise me. I think I just knew already.
“Don’t fault your sister for getting the facts wrong,” she said. The gentleness in her eyes made me think she didn’t fault people for much. “The development of this ability is more complicated than people realize because it comes from a variety of circumstances. Misunderstandings get perpetuated because of our secrecy. Plenty of potential luskies don’t understand what they can do.”
That made sense. How long had I been one without suspecting it?
“Once people do realize it, though, they inevitably come to the Velka for help,” Ewalina said.
“Why? If it hadn’t been for Ryalgar, that’s the last group I’d have turned to.”
By this time I’d started to make dinner, chopping vegetables for a simple stew. Ewalina offered to help, and while I worked on the cabbage she chopped an onion, a turnip, and two carrots with astounding expertise.
“Well, you have an unusual family,” she said. “Ryalgar mentioned your mother’s aversion to the Velka; I’m sure she colored your impression of them. Most people figure the Velka aren’t afraid of magic, right? So they go to them with questions, and the Velka put them in touch with one of us. Let’s face it. The idea of someone being able to compel you with their tone of voice is frightening, but it’s also scary to think you can do such a thing to others.”
I nodded without comment, feeling relieved that Ewalina’s first task was getting me over my fears.
“Listen to me. This skill is grounded in the idea of an emergency, even though it doesn’t have to be an emergency to use it. A luski speaks with the tone of a mother who sees her toddler about to touch a hot coal. She says ‘stop’ in a way that makes her child freeze. Everyone has been a child and still has a child inside. We all instinctually understand that particular timbre on a deep level.”
“You call it a timbre. Like a musical instrument?”
“We do. We consider our voices to be instruments.”
“Okay. So why can’t I use my instrument to say ‘give me all of your gold’?”
“You can. But you probably won’t, because every adult also has a veneer of a rational mind that will turn on an instant later. It will override a command making no sense. People aren’t children. You aren’t their mother. There is no emergency. Giving you their gold is ridiculous, and they won’t do it. What they will do is make a great deal of trouble for you for telling them to do so.”
She smiled at my confusion. “So, you aren’t so powerful after all,” she said. “But suppose you do say ‘stop’ and say it in the way that commands. The rational veneer of another won’t have enough information to override your instructions. The person will stop for you every time, while they may not stop for someone who isn’t a luski. The time you gain may save your life or theirs. So please understand, this power is real, it’s just far less dangerous than you’ve been led to believe.”
I wasn’t convinced. “What if my command isn’t a good idea for them?”
/> “Now we’re at the second half of how this works. Two strong opposing instincts come into play once a command is heard. The child inside them wants to obey you. When you speak as a luski, others will associate you with protection and affection, at least if they received some when young. The child inside will look for rational reasons to obey you.”
I nodded. That made sense.
“Meanwhile, the adult inside instinctually resents being told what to do and will look for reasons not to obey.” We both laughed at that.
“Which one wins?” I asked.
“It depends on the person, a little, and on the facts, a lot. The child is stronger in everyone, but not enough so to make an adult hurt themselves or do something they wouldn’t normally do. When I told you to get me water when I first arrived, didn’t you consider my request?”
“I did.” I smiled as I understood. “I looked for reasons why it made sense to get you water despite your ill-mannered introduction. I found them.”
“And that’s the power we have. To get the child inside of someone to try to justify a command and obey it. If they can justify it, you will have made them do it. If they can’t, it won’t matter what you say.”
“I was willing to give you water, but, well, not my horse Nutmeg. I couldn’t justify giving her away. I love her.”
“Nutmeg?”
Everyone asked about her odd name.
“I named her for this wonderful new spice for baking.”
Ewalina chucked. “No, I couldn’t make you give away your beloved horse. So you see why we luskies keep a low profile? We’re scary, yet, at the same time, we’re not always powerful.”
That seemed like the worst possible combination.
“Could I at least keep someone from killing me?”
“Maybe. If they didn’t really want to or didn’t think you threatened them. On the other hand, if someone thought they had to kill you to survive, you couldn’t stop them with your voice.”
“Are there ways I can get better at this?”
“Of course. One can get better at anything. But no amount of improvement changes the basic rules. You understand that?”
“I do.”
“Then why would you want to get better?”
I balked at being asked. I just did. Wasn’t better always better?
Then I realized my motivation mattered to her, and it ought to matter to me. I gave it some thought.
“I’d like to get more confident, in case I ever need to use this to help me or someone else. And I’d like to get better at predicting how it will work.”
Ewalina nodded. “Then I’ll stay a few more days.” She laughed at my suspicious look. “No tone there. I also want to help you get better at hearing it. It’s so easy for a luski to get paranoid if she isn’t good at recognizing the timbre for herself.”
The next day was the first day of the ank so I had to be back at school. Ewalina made herself at home during the day while I taught. For the next few days, she did the cooking for the two of us, and did some cleaning and chopping wood for me, too. Perhaps she was bored, or maybe it was her way to be helpful.
Because dark came quickly as Kolada approached, we ate our dinner together soon after I got home each day, and then we sat in front of the fire and worked by candlelight. Often much of the night had passed by the time we stopped.
We covered inflection and intonation. Pitch. Cadence. Lilt. Accent. Stress. She liked to work with the sentence. “I think you need to eat.”
I think you need to eat.
I think you need to eat.
I think you need to eat.
I think you need to eat.
I think you need to eat.
I think you need to eat.
I’d never considered how a simple sentence could be said so many ways, or mean so many subtly different things.
Every night she had me practice activating the feeling of an emergency within my head, so I could bring the timbre about at will. She taught me ways to turn it off and to make sure it stayed off in a particular situation. She had me practice detecting when she was using it, when she wasn’t, and even when she was using it ineffectively.
“You’ll meet luskies who have no idea they are one. They’ll use their skill unknowingly.”
“When that happens, do I need to tell someone about this person?”
She winced. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no over-reaching organization to report someone to. No one polices us or even guides us. Keeping their situation to yourself is the kindest thing you can do for them.”
“Should I tell them about themselves if they don’t already know?”
This time she shrugged. “Maybe. We try to help each other as best we can, but it’s a judgment call. You have to be sure you can trust the person you’re helping. I came here because your sister insisted there is no one in the world kinder than you.”
Really? Ryalgar said that?
“And because she hoped your potential skills could be useful in her search for ways to defend our realm.”
Useful. Yes, that sounded more like Ryalgar.
“Do you think they could be?” I asked.
“Honestly, given the way this works, I doubt it. I told her so, too. But, you never know. Why not collaborate with her and find out? One last thing, Coral. We do have a rule, and it’s important. If you get to know another luski the way you’ve gotten to know me, we revert to being strangers if we ever meet in public. Understand? It protects both of us.”
“Of course. Best to avoid awkward ‘how do you two know each other?’ questions, right?”
“Exactly. When we bid each other farewell, we often say ‘We part as strangers.’ Remember it.”
When Ewalina told me it was time for her to get back to her own life, I knew she’d taught me what she could. I hugged her and thanked her and asked her how I could repay her.
“I’ll take a few coins for my travel expenses, but only if you have them to give. Other than that, be prepared to take the risk of teaching another someday. Good luck, Coral. We part as strangers.” She gave me a slight bow of her head.
“Thank you, Ewalina.” I dipped my head in response. “Yes. We part as strangers.”
I carried myself differently after Ewalina left. Sakina commented on it, and I could tell other teachers and even some of the children noticed. I didn’t make anyone do anything, but I spoke with more confidence. People listened more. I liked the change.
Meanwhile, my belly grew. My baby would be here in about 7 anks now, just over two full cycles of the moon. I used the herbs Ryalgar gave me to keep healthy but I worried none-the-less. I guessed all expectant mothers did.
Now that I knew Davor didn’t consider my current location safe if the Mongols invaded, I needed a plan. I didn’t want to go to Lev alone to have the baby amongst strangers. Possibly one of my younger sisters could come with me. Olivine and Celestine had finished their two years of advanced schooling this summer, and following what appeared to be a family tradition, neither of the twins had wedding plans. However, both of them kept busy with pursuits of their own. Would either do such a thing for me?
My only other real option was to see if Ryalgar would let me stay with her as my time approached. There wasn’t a safer place than the forest, or a better group to midwife me than the Velka. The idea had merit.
On the next break from school, I’d ride over to the market. I could look for baby supplies and send word to Ryalgar to thank her for sending me a luski teacher. Then I could see if we could meet to talk about where I would give birth.
The next morning, as I headed to the privy, I saw another rider approaching in the distance. I took care of my personal needs quickly, and by the time I emerged from the little outhouse, the rider was close enough for me to tell it was Davor.
Never mind the plans I’d made. My husband was home.
Chapter 7. Under One Condition
Davor greeted me kindly enough and insisted I head over to school to teach, as it was the six
th day of the ank and they expected me. He said he’d be fine having a day to rest. So I went, but by the time I came home, his mood had soured.
He’d spent time fixing minor things around the house, things he thought I should have taken care of. I had neglected the place during Ewalina’s visit, between teaching all day and practicing with her every evening. He’d also starting drinking some brew from a jug he’d brought with him. It smelled strong. When he saw me give it a sniff, he handed it to me to have a swig. It didn’t seem the sort of thing a baby needed so I passed, pointing to my belly.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. You’re quiet tonight. Did your new lover wear you out?”
What? So that was the problem? He thought ….
“I’m two moons away from having a child! Are you crazy? I’ve no lover.”
“Doesn’t stop some women,” he said, but he let it drop. Wisely.
Scump. He’d probably found evidence of a visitor somewhere. I could have told him the truth, but I was pretty sure he’d prefer my having sex with anyone to my having a guest teach me how to control people with my voice. Kind of control them, to be accurate, but I knew the “kind of” part wouldn’t register with him no matter how many times I said it. So I let his accusation go unanswered.
I tried to put a decent meal together from the supplies I had left, and he made a fire. We sat down to eat together like a husband and wife, and I realized it was the first time we’d done so.
“You can cook,” he said. He seemed surprised, and a little pleased.
His mood softened as he ate, and we sat together in front of the fire when we were done.
“You don’t have to tell me about him,” he said. “I shouldn’t blame you for looking elsewhere. I haven’t been much of a husband in the short time we’ve been wed.”
“I knew what I was getting into.” I could have left it at that, but I wanted to know more. “I’m curious,” I said. “There was a time when you wanted me for your wife. What happened? Did I do something wrong?”