by S Kaeth
“This is absurd!” Taunos raged.
“Do not pretend your innocence. Not only have you as well as admitted to it, your warriors proudly proclaim your name,” declared one of the Elders.
“What?” Kaemada squeaked, eyes widening.
“The Darks yell ‘Kaemada! Kaemada!’ as they loot and plunder.”
The attacks had happened in the last moon before the Feast. Ra’ael wracked her mind to come up with an explanation, but only one came to mind. The City of the Lost.
“They take supplies with them?” Taunos stepped forward, his bearing severe.
“Did you not order them to?” challenged one of the Elders.
“Most of the Elders accusing us are from Mountainhold,” Takiyah whispered under her breath.
Ra’ael nodded. And they dared to suggest Storyteller Zeroun was too close to the situation.
Together, Storytellers Teryn and Zeroun calmed the Elders down enough to have a bit of order. Then Teryn looked at Ra’ael, his gaze sharp. “Ra’ael Tsrian, you’re a priestess, correct?”
“Yes, Elder. I’m pleased to do what service I may for my people.”
“What does a priestess do? What are you charged with?”
“As you well know, a priestess assists with the rituals and the ceremonies. I help to make sure they’re timed and performed appropriately. I help encourage my fellow kaetalyn in their spiritual paths when they stumble. I uphold the laws, traditions, and customs of Rinaryn life.”
Taunos sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. Too late, Ra’ael realized she’d stepped into a trap.
“And where is it written to blast your way into the Holy Mountains, using your powers wantonly?”
She hung her head. “It’s not. It’s forbidden to leave the path.”
“And forbidden to use your powers except in dire emergencies, too—a fact which you all seem to have forgotten. What brazen acts you have committed!”
“We had an honorable goal—to save Eian,” Takiyah pointed out.
“It directly violated of our ways, encouraged by one who is supposed to uphold our laws.”
“We cannot overlook the way you repeatedly broke our laws. This behavior would never be tolerated in kaetal life, and it most certainly cannot be ignored on the sacred journey,” said one of the calmer Elders.
“It may be that some Dark influence has grown in you four, possibly planted by your teacher. Why else would you so blatantly ignore tradition and wreak such havoc on Rinaryn society, taking the lives of innocents?” shouted one of the Elders from Mountainhold.
“It will take us some time to ponder all this and discuss it with one another. Please remain here at the Seeker Tree until we have reached a decision. But,” Teryn continued as they turned to leave, stopping them in their tracks. They turned back slowly. “Do not make contact with the other Rinaryn. We need to decide where you stand before we may welcome you back from your travels.”
The tent erupted as each of the wise men made his points and counterpoints and strove to be heard. Ra’ael had never seen the Council or any of the Elders so loud and chaotic. She shivered again. Her steps trailed behind Taunos’s stalking gait as they made their way to the Seeker Tree.
“I do not understand,” Takiyah said quietly. “They cannot truly think we’re behind this. Father is so angry. I have never seen him this angry before. He did not reference a single story!”
“How could they say those things?” Taunos hissed, anger and frustration and resentment pouring off him. “How can they speak those lies about us?”
Kaemada studied the grass beneath her feet, lighted gently by the sun sinking toward the peaks. “They’re afraid. It’s easier when you have someone to blame for your fear.”
Ra’ael made a shushing motion. “We do not need them to add charges of psionic use against them,” she whispered.
Though the sun was quite warm, Kaemada wrapped her arms around herself. “Something’s wrong with the Council of Elders.”
Ra’ael nodded. “I know. Could the Darks be influencing the Council somehow?”
Kaemada walked away from them a few paces, staring toward the camp of Torkae. “At least Eian is with Maeren and does not have to see this.”
“The troublesome Sierso line,” hissed Taunos under his breath, beginning to pace.
Kaemada shook her head. “I do not care about that, but whatever they do with us, they should reach out to the City of the Lost at the very least. They’re in such need.” Looking at Takiyah, she continued, “Besides, they seem the most angry with Taunos and me. They will likely forgive you.”
“You would be devastated if you were banished. You wouldn’t be able to see Eian,” Takiyah pointed out.
“They had charges against us all specifically except you, Takiyah,” Ra’ael pointed out.
“Surely they will overlook it. We were trying to save Eian.” Kaemada twisted her fingers together, distraught. “We did nothing wrong.”
“Why would the raiders be shouting your name?” Taunos asked.
Drooping miserably, Kaemada shook her head.
“The City of the Lost. They must have broken through the wall,” Ra’ael guessed.
Taunos nodded thoughtfully.
“I would think they would think back on all the help you two have given over the summers,” growled Takiyah. “Of course you’re not associated with the Darks.”
“Taunos leaves for moons at a time, and Kaemada said she did not hate Tikatae,” Ra’ael pointed out. “Today, that’s as good as admitting they’re Dark-touched.”
“That’s not right. Tikatae was hard not to hate.” Takiyah looked at Kaemada. “I would have said impossible, but proof against that is standing before us. But even so, when has an absence of hate ever been proof of being Dark-touched?”
“Because something is wrong with the Council,” Taunos said.
Ra’ael shook her head. Yes, some of the Elders had apparently misplaced their wisdom, but not all of them. Storyteller Zeroun was fighting for them. Even if the Council went wrong, the Great Mothers were there as a check on that sort of thing. The Rinaryn system couldn’t be destroyed so easily, could it?
“Maybe we could take Eian with us if we were banished,” Kaemada ventured.
Ra’ael frowned. “That wouldn’t be fair to him. He wouldn’t have a kaetal, freedom to grow, and all the traditions. The nighttime fires.”
“We could be his kaetal. A small kaetal, but still. We could have nightly fires, and sing the songs and dance and tell the stories,” Kaemada said.
“No,” Ra’ael replied firmly. “A child needs the greatness of a kaetal to thrive.”
Kaemada sighed, sinking into the grass. After a moment, Ra’ael wrapped her arms around her.
The music of the pipes and drums drifted through the valley, a counterpoint to the heated voices of the Elders behind them.
JAETAN-HAETH
Chapter Twenty-eight
There must be agreement between at least 38 of the 57 Elders, and the decision must be in line with the laws and values of the Rinaryn people as interpreted by the Council of the Great Mothers, or no declaration can be made. If the Elders cannot agree by sundown, they break for the night and resume in the morning. No issue may be discussed for more than three days. By the end of the third day, a final vote is taken, and if there is agreement, the judgement will stand. Otherwise, it will be tossed out.
—journal excerpt
As the sun sank toward the horizon, the arguments coming from the Elders’ tent only grew in intensity. Kaemada placed her hand against the smooth white bark of the Seeker Tree, then leaned her forehead against it. Memories and images from the Collective flooded her, fragments and impressions left behind from their merging. The sense of distance troubled her: distance from the others, from the problems of the future. From herself, even.
“Do you ever wonder if the old legends are true? I mean, was there really an Ancient Man, and is this really the last place his feet touched the ground?”
Ra’ael murmured beside her.
Kaemada smiled a bit. “I’m not sure the truth of it matters so much. I think the belief matters more, and what’s done with such belief. Does it bring us together or divide us? Does it cause love or hate?”
“There is far too much hatred and fear in the air,” Taunos said.
“I cannot blame them. Their homes have been attacked,” Kaemada whispered. Just like that, the detachment vanished, and her sorrows and guilt piled on her, burying her.
“For the sake of all things good, Kaemada, be less understanding,” Takiyah snapped.
“Stop making excuses for everyone.” Ra’ael turned the fire in her gaze on the tent of the Elders. “How could they think Galod is Dark-touched?”
“He’s very unusual,” Kaemada said, and Ra’ael scowled at her. Kaemada frowned. Had that been making excuses?
“He also keeps many secrets.” Taunos’s expression darkened.
Takiyah shrugged. “Maybe it’s as simple as the fact that he’s not Rinaryn.”
“They said as much,” Ra’ael agreed.
Kaemada sank back to the ground. If the Elders were against non-Rinaryn like the Collective were against non-psions and like the Kamalti were against outsiders, things were even worse than she feared. And Takiyah—what would that mean for her? The messenger six moons ago had antagonized her, and it appeared their fears had only grown since then. She trailed her fingers through the thick grass. How could she save her friends and brother from more suffering on her account?
The Elders broke for the night, many of them looking angry, and the rest looking exhausted. Storyteller Zeroun’s shoulders were stooped as he collected them, and he leaned heavily on his cane. They followed him silently, for it was forbidden to question an Elder during a Council, even if they were in recess. No one wanted to make things worse.
When they reached the place where they’d waited before, Zeroun kissed them each on the forehead. He started with Takiyah, holding her a long time and whispering to her.
When he made his way to Kaemada, he murmured, “Lína’s daughter, have faith. Torkae will not easily lose you.”
He left them, with a lump aching in Kaemada’s throat and tears threatening to spill out every time she swallowed.
Maeren came with a basket full of delicious sweetened breads, fresh fruit, smoked meat, and greens. Her smile was grieved as she looked at them. “I have heard what happened to you. The other Great Mothers and I have been discussing the issue, but I fear we’re as divided as the Elders. We will be certain their decision is just, of course, but aside from that… You four have riled emotions.”
“How is Eian?” Kaemada held her arms around herself, feeling as if she couldn’t let go.
“He’s well, never fear. He has been pestering Soren for more riddles. With the spirits’ help, you will be reunited soon.”
“Saimahkae, the Council. Something seems wrong with them,” Ra’ael said.
“So say all those accused, unfortunately. Never fear. The Storyteller and I are watchful.” She embraced each of them, bidding Takiyah keep her chin up, and returned to Torkae’s camp.
The sky lit up with falling stars, and the music of the ancient songs filled the air, echoing the sound of the Starfall. Ra’ael led them in their participation. The powerful, sonorous tones lifted Kaemada’s spirits a bit, but the touch of lightness on her heart drowned in guilt as soon as she felt it. Despair crushed her once more. The traditional tunes ended, and the entertainment began—the music of the pipes and the drums, the singing and the dancing. Kaemada forced a smile to keep the others from worrying about her. The familiar rituals at once comforted and saddened her, for they could not partake. At last, they fell asleep under the falling stars.
In the morning, they woke as the sun’s first rays peeked over the ridge of mountains surrounding them. They waited all that day under the Seeker Tree, listening to the faint sound of the Elders arguing. Gamed and contests played out in front of them, and Taunos watched intently, his fingers twitching and fidgeting. Kaemada grieved for her brother. He should be out there, joining in the contests he loved to much.
After a woman from Dragonmoor won an archery competition, Ra’ael leapt to her feet. “I’m tired of waiting.”
She snatched up her sword and dagger and stared at Taunos. He grinned, grabbing his own blade, and she ran at him, both releasing their pent up frustrations through the sparring. Kaemada couldn’t help but smile—at last, they were seeing what one another needed and meeting that need rather than holding each other to impossible standards. Takiyah took the next turn sparring with Taunos, but he went easy on her until she scolded him.
“How am I to learn my new limits with this leg unless I push those limits?”
He grinned and threw her five times before she figured out how to guard against it. As Ra’ael and Takiyah joined up together against her brother, Kaemada almost relaxed into the familiar sounds of sparring. Almost. There was no familiar laughter from Taunos—only a short laugh now and then at a particularly good maneuver—and the faces of the people passing by showed their disapproval.
They were resting when Ra’ael asked Taunos, “If you’re always away to help us, what have you learned that’s useful?”
With a groan, Taunos collapsed on his back. “Will you ever stop pestering me, Wildling?”
“It will prove you’re not running,” Takiyah observed.
Taunos put his hand to his heart as if she had stabbed him a mortal wound. He turned to look at Kaemada. “Do you, too, doubt me?”
She smiled. “Never, brother. But I think it’s fair to answer their questions.”
Groaning again, Taunos sat back up. “You will not like the answer.”
Ra’ael looked up to the heavens, as she did when impatient.
“I have learned much of the Darks. They’re not some fantastical race that came out of nightmares to frighten and kill. They’re called by many names, though ours is the simplest. ‘Darks.’ Ooooo!” His tone became mocking.
Eyes blazing, Ra’ael shoved him hard. “Do you dare mock your own people even while the Elders sit not a stone’s throw away, deciding our future?”
Taunos raised his hands. “Shareil. I meant no sincere disrespect, only pointing out how silly a name we have given these people, once you think about it.”
“You should be more careful,” Takiyah said. “The Elders already think you’re Dark-touched.”
Beneath his jovial demeanor, strain showed in his eyes and the lines of his mouth. These accusations wounded him deeply. Something had happened to him in the Council… something they couldn’t understand.
“I have given much and will continue to give much to keep you safe from those people.”
“You call those monsters people?” Ra’ael snapped.
“They are people, Wildling. And they’re far more advanced than us.”
Takiyah scoffed. “If that’s so, then why do they not simply wipe us from the land and erase our story?”
“Because they do not care about us. All those attacks, all those raids? They do not want anything. Why attack us? The answer is simple. We’re practice.”
Ra’ael frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean all those ‘monsters’ that we have fought for ages realmwalk in and realmwalk out of our land. They destroy and kill but never steal, and they’re always young.”
“That’s why you asked about the recent raids, confirming that they took supplies,” Takiyah said.
Taunos nodded. “Darks are not behind the recent attacks. They care nothing for supplies. It makes more sense that the people of the City of the Lost began raiding now that they’re free.
“The Darks have an enemy, a real enemy. I do not know much about them yet. But I know that the Darks send their young warriors to us to get a taste of battle, to try out techniques and strategies, and to let their young prove themselves before going on to fight their true enemy.” Taunos looked at them severely.
Kaemada shive
red. Glancing at her friends, she saw the same shock and horror she felt. They were target practice for these people? What sort of dangerous foe must the Darks have? Pain gleamed in Taunos’s eyes. Of course he would wish he could have spared them the knowledge. All those secrets. He shouldn’t need to have so many secrets.
“Against their true might, their real warriors, we would have no chance.” Taunos’s stern tone drove his point home.
Takiyah shook her head. “What about their enemy? Could we not ally with them?”
“I think we’re in trouble enough for making unauthorized alliances,” Ra’ael muttered.
Taunos shook his head, looking grim. “The enemy of our enemy isn’t necessarily our friend.”
“You should tell the Elders all you have found—hold back no secrets from them,” Ra’ael hissed, leaning forward. “Your secrets are dooming us.”
He shook his head again. “I meet with the Heartwood Council regularly when I return from travels. If they do not see, nothing I can say will convince them.”
“Tell everyone else, then,” Takiyah suggested. “Do not leave it up to the Elders.”
Ra’ael shot her a dangerous look.
Taunos sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. Kaemada put her hand on his shoulder. He looked so… defeated. “The Heartwood Council swore me to secrecy. I should not be telling you even this much. That’s why I have not said anything, why I had no defense for these accusations. The Heartwood Council should forgive us. They can get the others to see reason, but only if I follow their rules. If not… Well, do you really think the other Elders will believe me?”
He raised his eyes skyward. “On my travels, I have learned something else. Rinara, our land, is protected by something that has been carefully set up over centuries. Without that protection, we would all die.”
“What is it?” Kaemada asked.
“Secrecy,” Taunos said. “Nothing is as important as keeping this land safe, and that means secret. Nothing.”
Kaemada sat considering her brother’s expression carefully for a moment, the pain and grief he tried to hide. “What’s her name?”