by Robin Roseau
“I’m not taking anything out on anyone. If Féla doesn’t want to visit her home, that’s her choice. If she doesn’t want to tell me why, that’s her choice. If the two of them want an afternoon to do whatever they’re doing, I certainly can’t begrudge them that, either. No one in particular needs me right now, so I am going for a walk.”
“And we’re going with you.”
“You’re not invited.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m crabby, and I want to be alone. Why is that so hard to understand?”
“We don’t have to talk,” Larien pointed out.
“The two of you got along just fine long before I arrived in Alteara. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle an afternoon without me.” I looked away to find Ralalta and Alta standing beside each other, watching the three of us. Avoiding their gaze, I looked back at the two priestesses. “If there’s something you need from the High Priestess, spit it out,” I said. “Otherwise I am going for a walk, and I don’t want company.”
“We just don’t think you should go off alone.”
“It’s not my decision how the two of you spend your afternoon, and it’s not yours how I do. I have avoided testing how much authority my position offers me, but if you follow me, I guess it will be an opportunity for me to learn.”
And then I turned around and walked away. They didn’t try to follow me.
I reached the guards and walked up to the Altearan corporal in charge. “I am in a mood. I want the...” I counted. “Six of you to give me as much distance as fits your orders. If I thought you’d let me, I’d go without you.”
She nodded understanding, and I knew that was the best I’d get from her. I stepped through them, and they took up positions, two in front and the other four behind. After that, I did what I could to ignore them. Thankfully, they were as unobtrusive as I could hope, and so ignoring them wasn’t as difficult as it could have been.
I didn’t really have a destination more specific than “the town”. It wasn’t at all a big town, barely more than a glorified, overgrown crossroads. I wondered if it had grown up around the ferry, or if the ferry was here because this was where the town was.
It wasn’t a bad walk, perhaps twenty minutes. Between my guards and my hair, I was noticed. The people I met greeted me with “Good afternoon, Priestess,” or similar phrases. I realized after the third or fourth that no one knew I was the High Priestess. I was fine with that.
And no one tried to stop me as I walked towards the center of the town. That was typically rare, but I didn’t mind at all. But I did stop one person and say, “I’m looking for a park or tavern where I can sit for a while.”
“The green is along the riverfront, Priestess,” she said with a gesture. “There are benches and tables, and most of the businesses are along the edges.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
I found the green. It was like a village green anywhere, larger them some, smaller than others. This near the river, it wasn’t flat, although there was a portion furthest from the river that was flat enough for a group of children, perhaps ten and four years old, to play some game. Here and there were other people: more children, a few families, and one or two who appeared to be alone. I walked through the green until I found a bench facing the river. I sat down and looked around.
To my left was the ferry, currently sitting at the dock on our side of the river. There was no other traffic on the river, but there were additional houses and a pair of warehouses on the north side. One of the houses sat high on a hill, almost directly opposite my location, and it was a grand home. I looked back and forth and realized the home would have a commanding view both up- and down-stream. I briefly wondered who lived there, and in my head I made up stories.
Eventually I closed my eyes and sat quietly.
I didn’t notice when she approached. People had been walking along the path behind me since I’d arrived, including a few children asking their parents who I was. But when she sat down on the bench beside me, I was sure I was about to chastise someone from my family. I opened my eyes and had my mouth ready with a cutting remark even before I turned my head.
I stared into a pair of eyes I’d never seen before.
I closed my mouth and looked at the stranger.
“I hope I’m not intruding, High Priestess.”
I considered her carefully. She was older than I was, perhaps by ten and four years. Her clothing was an attempt to look casual, but the fit and quality were very high. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I knew this woman was Someone.
“Not at all,” I said. I held out my hand. “Yallameenara.”
“What an interesting accent,” she said, clasping my hand. “Call me Saroo.”
“That doesn’t sound very Altearan.”
“My given name is much longer, and life is short,” she replied. She smiled. “The village elders are going to be very disappointed.”
“I know I’m not much to look at.”
“That’s a lie,” she said. “But that’s not what I meant. They left for your camp, but you’re here.”
“They’ll have a king, two queens, and one princess to talk to,” I replied.
“Two queens? Since when does Alteara have two queens?”
“One is Framaran.”
“Queen Ralalta is here?”
“She is spending time with my in-laws,” I replied. “So Saroo. You know who I am. Who are you?”
“I’m nobody.”
“To quote you: that’s a lie.”
“I’m just a local businesswoman.” She gestured. “That’s my home.”
“I don’t know that much about business,” I said. “But how does a businesswoman make enough around here to build something like that?”
“She moves to Hergenseé for twenty years.”
“And then moves back here?”
“Father died, and mother was ailing.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s the cycle of life.”
“Perhaps so, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. And your mother now?”
“Remarkably fitter.”
“With you home, or with you taking care of her?”
“Perhaps both,” she replied. “Or perhaps it is the attention a widow with a wealthy daughter receives.” She smiled.
“Is that a good thing?”
“You know, I think it is. It was hard the first time I saw her with a man other than my father, but she’s happy, and at least so far, they treat her well.” She laughed. “And even now, she’s a beauty. She spends more time on her appearance now than she ever did for my father.”
“Perhaps before you came along...”
“Perhaps.”
“And perhaps her daughter makes it possible.”
“Perhaps. Could I ask you something?”
“You can ask.” I thought she was about to ask me about the Goddess, so her question surprised me.
“Why are you sitting here, relatively alone at least until I came along?”
“You realize that while I have official duties, I also have a private life.”
“I don’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not. I had a difference of opinion with some of the members of my household. I decided I needed some distance from everyone.”
“You must have assumed you wouldn’t be alone if you waited here long enough.”
I shrugged and then turned to look across the river at her house. I gestured with my nose. “It looks comfortable.”
“It’s ostentatious,” she replied. Then she laughed. “But perhaps not as much as living in a palace. Or I assume you live in a palace. I haven’t been to Marport in years, but I remember you.”
“Have we met before?”
“Oh, no. I don’t travel in those circles.”
“What circles are those?”
“The circles that would secure invitations to the queen’s foster daughter.”
“And yet, here we are,” I
said.
“A long way from your home.”
“I seem to have many homes now.”
“Going back to Garneer?”
“You know a lot about me. No. I haven’t considered that home since shortly after arriving in Marport.”
“I imagine it was a difficult life.”
“It’s what I knew,” I replied. “I didn’t want to leave. Now look at me.” I offered a half smile. “What can I do for you?”
“You assume I want something from you.” I shrugged again. Saroo offered her own smile. “I saw you here and thought it was a unique opportunity to meet you. That’s all I wanted.”
“I’m just a girl of the horse people.”
“I have no doubt that was once true, but even before you came to Alteara, that was no longer accurate, was it? And in the years since?” She gestured at me. “But perhaps the clothing hasn’t changed dramatically.”
“This is certainly of far higher quality than I once wore,” I admitted. “But you’re right.”
“Are these clothes making a statement?”
“I think I look good in them.”
“I believe I agree. Do you have dinner plans, High Priestess?”
Her question surprised me. She waited while I considered my response, watching carefully but not rushing me. Finally I came to a decision. “Perhaps you would care to join my household, although I do not know what is being planned.”
“You decline my invitation?”
“I must not overlong neglect my duties.”
“Of course,” she replied then inclined her head. “I would be delighted to join you.”
“And your mother?”
“I think not. Mother would not be comfortable.”
“I am only a girl of The Hippa.”
Saroo laughed. “Will there be one princess present, or two?”
“Technically,” I said with a smile. “Three.”
“Three?”
“Princess Juleena is in Marport. Princess Lásenalta is with me, and two of our daughters.”
“And how many queens will be present?”
“That is unclear, but I cannot imagine there will be more than two.”
She laughed again. “I imagine not. And possibly one king.”
“And one goddess.”
“One mustn’t forget the goddess.” She looked around. “Is she here now?”
“Playing with my daughters,” I said. “She seems to take delight.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“We’ll have so many that one more is hardly an intrusion,” I said.
“I’d love to join you, High Priestess.”
“Please, call me Yallameenara.”
“Of course. Shall I come to your camp?”
“Actually, I don’t know. Can I send a messenger?”
“Of course. I will have someone from my household waiting at the ferry so your messenger needn’t cross the river twice. Ask for Ahblé.”
“Ahblé,” I repeated. “Got it.”
We stood together, and she took my hands, squeezing for a moment. “It has been lovely meeting you, and I look forward to dinner, Yallameenara.”
“We’ll talk more then, Saroo,” I replied.
She pulled her hands from me, backed away three steps, smiled for a moment, then turned and strode away, her heels clicking on the path. The sound drew my eyes, and I found myself admiring her backside.
Ah, I loved a good pair of boots.
I sat back on the bench. With Saroo having broken the ice for the town, others stopped by. First, it was two girls of perhaps ten and two years old. They stepped up to me somewhat shyly, coming to a stop several paces away and whispering to each other. I ignored them for a minute, but when they neither drew closer nor scampered away, I turned to them.
“It would be polite to introduce yourselves,” I told them.
“Mama said we shouldn’t talk to strangers,” said the girl on the right. She had long, curly red hair and freckles. It was cute.
“You talk funny,” said the one on the right. Her hair was also long, black, and captured in a braid that hung down her back. She held a basket in her hand, packed with goods.
“I suppose I do,” I agreed. “No one can place my accent. My name is Yallameenara. What are yours?”
“Do all priestesses sound like you?” said black-hair.
“My accent is quite unique,” I replied. “Are you really going to make me ask a third time?”
“Fríamenorsía,” said red-hair. She hooked a thumb at her friend. “This is Nathamínalíta.”
“I can introduce myself, Sía.”
“You’re not supposed to talk to strangers,” said Sía.
“Ah. And who is stranger than a priestess to the Goddess, especially one with my accent?” I smiled and gestured to the bench. “Did you care to sit?”
Yes, it turned out they did, and they even jostled for who would sit beside me. Then they watched me with rapt attention.
“So. Tell me about yourselves. Do you live in town or on a farm nearby?”
“My parents run the inn,” said Sía, turning to point. I followed her finger.
“Ah,” I said. “And you, Líta?”
“That’s not what they call me,” she complained.
“She’s Min,” said Sía.
“My apologies, Min. Do you live in town?”
She nodded. “My dad’s the cooper,” she replied.
“A good profession,” I declared. “And will you be a cooper when you’re older?”
She shook her head. “No. My grandmother has been teaching me healing. I’d be with her now, but she was up all night and is resting. She sent me to the market.” She lifted the little basket she’d been carrying. “I was heading home when Sía said there was a priestess here.”
“Ah. And you came to see for yourselves,” I said. “Do I disappoint you?”
“Noooo,” she said slowly. “Have you met the Goddess?”
“I have,” I said. “She is traveling with us, but she is back at our camp right now.”
“You can see her?” asked Sía. “I thought only the High Priestess could see her.”
“That is true,” I said. “Although there can be more than one.”
“More than one.”
“My mother. Me. My daughters.”
“You’re the high priestess?” Min said in astonishment. She looked around. “Where are all your, um...”
“My what?”
“Your, um.”
“The people I travel with?”
“Yes,” she said. “Them.”
“Some are in town, seeing to their own needs. Most are in camp. I believe some are meeting with your village elders.”
“But... Why are you alone?”
“I’m not alone. I’m talking to you.” I gestured. “And I have guards.” I leaned closer. “They’re here to make sure I don’t run away.”
“Are they really?” Sía asked.
“You know, some days I’m not sure.”
She looked me up and down. “You’re not what I’d expect. Are you sure you’re the high priestess?”
“One of four,” I said. “But my daughters are very new and still learning the language of the Goddess.”
“You don’t look like a high priestess,” she asserted.
“I know. The only evidence I have is my hair, and these fine men and women watching over us carefully.”
“I think you should prove it.”
“Do you?” I asked, amused. “I’m trying to decide if I care whether you believe me or not.”
“Of course you care!” she said. Ah, to be ten and two.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t want us to think you’re a liar.”
“Let me ask you something. Do you think the High Priestess is a liar?”
“You might not be her.”
“But do you think she is?”
“Noooo,” she replied slowly.
“Well the
n, you might think that I am a liar, but you don’t think the High Priestess is. If I’m not the High Priestess, then I am a liar. But if I am, then I’m not. Furthermore, you just told me you don’t think the High Priestess is a liar. And so I’m not worried that you think I am.”
She scrunched her face, trying to follow my logic. Finally her face cleared. “Prove it anyway. Summon the Goddess.”
“One does not summon a goddess, any goddess,” I said. “That would be horribly rude. Do you summon your parents, or a village elder?”
“I bet you can’t.”
“You’d probably be right,” I said. “I talk to her, but I don’t summon her.” I shrugged. “Believe me or not.” I leaned back, turned to face the river, and closed my eyes. I’m sure the girls found my attitude vexing, but I didn’t appreciate being doubted, in spite of how outlandish a claim it may have been.
“I don’t think you’re a liar,” said Min.
“Thank you.”
“I don’t, either,” Sía said. “But you have to admit, you don’t look like a High Priestess.”
“I never saw what my mother looked like when she lived here,” I said. “And I’ve never known any other high priestesses. I imagine you’re right. But there’s a lesson to be learned.”
“What?”
“You can’t judge who someone is by how she dresses.” I smiled. “What do you girls do for fun?”
We talked for a few minutes about easier topics, and then they both declared they had to go. I wished them well and thanked them for their company.
* * * *
Dinner was a camp meal served under our large pavilion. I made sure the note to Saroo emphasized informal and warned her there would be a crowd. Then I went in search of the Goddess.
She, along with Larien and Terél, was sitting in a circle with all the girls, giving a lesson in the Language of the Goddess. I watched for a minute then walked over. The Goddess was seated between Mandi and Nissi. Larien and Terél were seated directly opposite the Goddess, with Lamarta, Tally, and Radí filling in the circle to either side. I was growing accustomed to the close relationship between Lamarta and Radí and wasn’t surprised to see them side-by-side, knees touching, as they paid close attention to Terél’s lesson. I watched for a minute. They seemed to be making a game of it, but I couldn’t quite figure out the rules. Nissi was wearing some sort of mask that covered half her face. It had a long nose, and I couldn’t tell if it was funny or ugly. Maybe it was both.