Rook

by Robin Roseau

  I smiled. “Absolutely.”

  It wasn’t as easy as that. Terél and Larien were surrounded by people, most of them family, but some friends of her family, people I imagined she barely knew if at all. She’d been a priestess since she was very young, after all. But to get there, we had to work our way through everyone else, and word went around who I was. But they seemed to enjoy an opportunity to greet Princess Lásenalta, as well. I couldn’t blame them. I’d been pleased to greet her, and she hadn’t even been my princess.

  We gave everyone time, although perhaps not the amount they wanted. We clasped a few hands, accepted a few hugs, and even a few kisses, but at least they were chaste.

  But then the Goddess was at my side, taking my other arm. “You look lovely, my High Priestess.”

  “Thank you, Prestainamatta. Are you enjoying the party?”

  “I tried to play with the children, but I hope you don’t mind if I stay with you.”

  “I never mind when you stay with me,” I replied.

  I didn’t know if the Goddess did something, but from the point she joined me until we inserted ourselves into the discussion with Terél’s family, no one else tried to intercept us. But as we approached, everyone turned to us, at first just one or two, but then they were all facing us as we drew close.

  Alta and the Goddess released my arms. I stepped forward and hugged Terél first, whispering into her ear, “I love you.”

  She held tightly for a moment before releasing me. Larien was next, and then I stepped back. “Terélmarestra,” said the Goddess. “I would like to meet your family.”

  Larient quietly translated my words, and when Terél spoke, hers as well.

  “Of course, Prestainamatta,” Terél replied.

  “Wait,” said a woman near Ralalta’s age. “The Goddess? I thought she was the High Priestess.”

  “She is,” Alta replied. “She is repeating the words of the Goddess.”

  “The Goddess is here?” the woman asked, her mouth and eyes wide. “In Deep Cove.”

  “Mother,” said Terél. “You recognize Princess Lásenalta, I am sure. And you are correct. This is High Priestess Yallameenara, one of my very best friends. And beside Yallameenara, although we can’t see her, is our Prestainamatta, the Goddess Yahamala.”

  The woman didn’t know what to do, but her instincts weren’t horrible. She dropped into a curtsey, and the remaining villagers offered their own obeisance moments afterwards. They all stayed down.

  “Prestainamatta,” Terél continued. “My Mother. Her name is Varálmarlotierá. Yalla may prefer Lotty. Past her is my father, Dorgónmaríden.” Terél introduced several others people, or the tops of their heads, anyway.

  “Please ask them to stand,” said the Goddess. I did, but I stepped forward to steady Terél’s mother as she rose, and we took that opportunity to clasp hands, and then again with her father. “I am pleased to meet you all,” the Goddess continued. Then she stepped closer to Terél and cupped her cheek.

  I changed my tone and lowered my voice. “She’s caressing you.”

  Terél closed her eyes and tipped her head into Yahamala’s hand. Perhaps she could feel the gesture.

  “Terélmarestra is one of my absolute favorites,” said the Goddess. “She is sweet and lovely, and brings me joy. She is loyal, both to me and to her friends. Deep Cove can be proud to have raised such a girl to become such a wonderful woman.”

  I waited for Larien to finish then added in Altearan, “And she has been important to me, one of my dearest friends. I do not know what would have become of me without her gentle heart.”

  The Goddess stepped back to my side, and Terél opened her eyes, beaming. “Thank you,” she whispered in the Language of the Goddess.

  * * * *

  “This has been a good day,” the Goddess told me several hours later. “These are good people.”

  “They are,” I agreed.

  “I’m going to miss Ralalta.”

  “You don’t think you’re going to be able to cross the border, do you?”

  “I’m going to try,” she replied. She looked out to Harsprite. “Do you know? I have never been aboard a ship.”

  “We could ask for a tour.”

  “I wish we could. I cannot leave the shores.”

  “It seems strange that a goddess should be limited.”

  “I am not fully of this world, and so there are limits.” She gestured. “The children are organizing a new game. I would like us to play.”

  “I need to speak with Ralalta for a few minutes. Could I join you then?”

  “Of course.” She kissed my cheek and turned away. I spied Ralalta and made my way to her. I joined her conversation with one of Terél’s aunts for a few minutes, then asked if I could have a moment of the queen’s time.

  I led her away from the others and said, “I have to ask you something in my official capacity.”

  “Oh, now isn’t this a change of pace. Normally I am the one asking you.”

  “I’m not sure how much this is my business, but I need to ask, anyway. Are you sure you want me to send Hallámierté to Marport with you?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I wasn’t sure if this were just a little fling for you, and it would be complicated if you returned home and realized you wished I’d sent someone else.”

  She smiled broadly. “Oh, Yalla,” she said. She clasped my hands. “She and I talked about that.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s none of your business.”

  “It is if I’ll have to send her back here and retrieve someone else.”

  “Have no fear. We are not in love. You’re right; it is a fling. We’re fond of each other, but we each have other loves. She loves the Goddess and her service to her and to you. And I have my duties and responsibilities. She will have a room near yours, but it may be from time to time, she’ll spend a night in another bed. Or perhaps she won’t. But you have maintained very good relationships with Larien and Terél in spite of your complicated history. Do you doubt Hallámierté and I can do the same thing?”

  “So you’re sure?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “You know, I had to ask.”

  “Yes, I suppose you did.” She pulled me into a hug. “Oh, Yalla, I’m so proud of you.”

  “I’m not the person you had to rescue from Lord Baggar.”

  “That odious wretch,” she said. “Why did you have to remind me of him?” She hugged me more tightly. “There are times I wished things had stayed simpler for you. But then I remember Alta, and I remember I have grandchildren I wouldn’t have. And I look at what you’re doing for both our countries.” She pushed away and then brushed a tear from her face. “When you’re gone on these trips, I spend hours in your cozy little temple.”

  “Do you really?”

  “I imagine you there. If you’ve left Zana or Hamper behind, I go talk to them.”

  “I imagine they enjoy your visits.”

  “Probably. I bring carrots and sugar cubes.”

  I laughed then sobered. “Ralalta, you’ve never lied to me.”

  “That’s right, but there’s a first time for everything.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Are you well?”

  “Oh, Yalla. Yes, as well as any woman my age.”

  “You’re not old.”

  “Perhaps not, but I’m not young anymore, either. This trip has reminded me of that. I so hope your goddess can cross the border, because I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to do this again.”

  “Do you think you could call her ‘our goddess’ though?”

  “Oh, of course. That’s a habit.”

  “So you do see her that way?”

  “I think I am starting to. It’s impossible to deny she exists, or to deny her influence. Not after...” She trailed off.

  “Were you shocked?”

  “I didn’t know what was happening at first. Surprised. Not shocked.”

  “Your vis
it -- and your acceptance -- have made her very happy.”

  “This extra trip hasn’t been easy on you.”

  “I have such support,” I pointed out. “Alta. Larien and Terél. You.” I paused. “I’m really going to miss Féla and Naddí.”

  “You know, so will I. Now you have two new ones to break in.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever have the same relationship with Está and Níta that I’ve had with Mellara, Féla, and Naddí.”

  “Probably not,” Ralalta agreed. “Mellara was more than a maid when you arrived, and it was at a vulnerable time in your life. And Féla and Naddí were also part of a vulnerable time for you, and they are near your age. As you grow older, your relationship with future maids becomes more unbalanced. You are an employer but not a friend.”

  I frowned, not wanting to think about that.

  “Well,” said Ralalta after a moment.

  “Well,” I agreed. “When I reach Marport, I’ll expect to see progress in your studies.”

  She laughed. “Juleena will have piled my desk with six-months’ worth of deferred decisions.”

  “We’ve only been gone for two.”

  “It’s funny how that works,” she declared.

  * * * *

  Later, in the dark, I whispered urgently to my wife, “Please hold me.”

  * * * *

  Our party, now significantly smaller with the departure of the Queen and much of the honor guard, as well as Hallámierté, Mellara, and four children, turned south. We traveled halfway to Hergenseé along the coast before turning inland, riding northeast away from the coast and the capital. We zigged and zagged our way through the heart of Alteara. Everywhere we went, we were warmly greeted. Everywhere we went, I met people who wished to know about the Goddess. I found that heartening.

  What I didn’t find heartening was that some of these villages hadn’t seen a priestess in a generation. And so, two days from Lopéna, I collected the Goddess, our most important priestesses, and the royal family.

  “We have been few,” Vérundia said.

  “And that is partly why we took this path,” Tradódid explained. “We are intentionally going places that have been neglected.”

  “You’re calling it neglect?”

  “Mesenorié and I haven’t been to most of these places, either,” he hastily added. “We rely on the local leaders to see to the needs of the people.”

  I turned to the Goddess. “You don’t seem concerned.”

  “Yalla,” she replied. “How many new acolytes have I claimed this year?”

  I counted. “Seven.”

  “Nine,” Vérundia corrected me.

  “Seven. Mandi. Nissi. Lamarta.” I went down the list.

  Vérundia was counting on her fingers. When I finished, she held up her eighth finger. “Naddíqualestra.” Then she held up her ninth. “Resaírelteena.”

  “They’re not acolytes.”

  “They are new to our order,” she said. “Yalla, between the time your mother left and you accepted your role in the order, we received one new acolyte, on average, about every two years.”

  I stared. “We have eighteen years of new priestesses?”

  “And the year isn’t over,” said the Goddess with a smile.

  I turned to her. “You’re planning more?”

  “I just might be,” she said enigmatically.

  “We’ve been spread thin,” Vérundia said. “And until the new acolytes become priestesses, we’ll remain spread thin.” She smiled. “If our Prestainamatta continues to claim acolytes at the current rate, we will reach the largest our order has ever seen in about three years.”

  I thought about it. “We’ll have five acolytes per priestess.”

  “Not quite that ratio, but yes.” She laughed and looked at Naddí and Féla. “And that will be a problem for someone else to manage, as I will be out doing the work of our Prestainamatta.”

  “Great. You’re going to dump that on us,” Féla complained.

  “I’d rather have that problem than the ones I faced,” she said.

  “Fair enough,” Féla agreed.

  I thought about it further. The Goddess was watching me carefully. “At least Alteara knows who you are. Framara does not.”

  “Which will not do, Yalla. My people must know of me.”

  “You’re going to claim more acolytes, aren’t you?”

  She smiled again. “Yes, Yalla. I am. Many, many more.”

  “Do I have any say in the matter?”

  “Perhaps,” she replied. “Did you have someone in mind?”

  “Yes. More scribes. We need more books and we need them sooner.”

  The Goddess cocked her head and offered her, “I know something you don’t know” look.

  “I’ll think about it,” was all she promised.

  Border Crossing

  We’d said goodbye to much of our troop days ago, Mesenorié and Tradódid returning to Lopéna with most of the guards, and several of the priestesses turning east towards the Heart of the Goddess.

  It had been years since I’d been anywhere without Féla and Naddí, and I missed them.

  But now we were stopped, just short of the bridge crossing the Sarren River. The sea was another twenty miles further west, but this was the last bridge that crossed the river. After this, the river formed a marshy delta, and there were no roads. On this side of the river: Alteara. Once we crossed the river, we’d be in Framara. On each side was a guard outpost and a small town. This wasn’t the most important trade route between the two countries. That was what ships were for. But where one could cross rivers between countries, one could charge duty, and one could profit from trade.

  We hadn’t any need to stop, not exactly. Our Altearan guard captain had already sent ahead; we were expected, and the barriers would be raised for us as we approached. We needn’t even slow down.

  But still, it seemed like stopping was the right thing to do.

  “What do you think, Prestainamatta?”

  She turned to me, and she looked unsettled, her eyes a little wide and her mouth tightly closed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can feel the border,” she said, gesturing.

  “Will you be able to cross?”

  “I have never been able to do so before.”

  “You have a direct invitation from Queen Ralalta.”

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  The Goddess wasn’t the only one who looked a little nervous. We’d sent Féla’s nieces with Ralalta and Mellara, but we had two acolytes and two maid-bodyguards who hadn’t been south of the border. I decided we should commemorate the occasion. I lifted my voice, speaking Altearan.

  “My family,” I said. “My friends. My daughters. My sisters. We have had a good summer. All of us visited places we’d never been before. We met many new people. We made many new friends. We shared adventures and meals and hugs.”

  I asked Hamper to turn a half circle. “This bridge is like all the other bridges we’ve passed in our travels, and compared to the bridging of relationships, this is almost nothing. But in the crossing of rivers, this is as significant as we will experience.”

  Hamper turned back.

  “Across this river lies Framara, the land I have called my home since I was ten and three years. For me, it is my adopted home, although I have a second adopted home we leave behind us. For some of you, it is the only home you have ever known. And for others, it is a new home, filled with new adventures and new people.”

  I smiled. “But you do not arrive without friends. You are surrounded by them. Radímaroosh and Glíenmurtalá, you ride beside my daughters and their friend, Lamarta. You have become friends with them, and now you are like daughters to me.

  “Maráestára and Peralianíta, this is perhaps not as momentous for you, but I see your eyes, and I see your expressions, and I think this is an important day for you. But know that you arrive as members of my household, and be welcome.”

  Then I
turned to the Goddess and changed languages. “Prestainamatta, for you, this is most momentous of all. Know that you are welcome in my adopted land, invited by Queen Ralalta of Framara herself. She is certainly home now, but she knows we stand here today, waiting to cross this river, and when we arrive together in Marport, we will arrive into her open arms.”

  The Goddess smiled, but she looked at the water, I thought nervously.

  I smiled once more. “Let us go make new history.”

  Then I turned Hamper, clicked, and began a gentle trot for the bridge. A moment later, the entire troop was in motion.

  We passed through the guards, the barriers raised, and the full complement turned out to watch our departure from Alteara. And as we set hooves upon the stone of the bridge, the Altearan guards held back, and it was only the Framara soldiers that passed onto the bridge with us.

  “Yalla!”

  From behind me, a cry of distress. I spun Hamper, and I saw Zana, right at the edge, fighting, refusing to cross the river. The Goddess held her seat, but I didn’t think that would last.

  “The rest of you,” I called. “Give her room.”

  I rode back, sparks flying from Hamper’s hooves, but then I signaled him, and he came to a stop, rock steady, and I leapt from the saddle.

  “Zana, my darling,” I crooned in Arrlottan. “Zana.” I whistled.

  Her eyes were wild, but she focused on me, and once she had, I approached slowly. She calmed, but still, she refused to set hoof upon the bridge.

  I stepped closer, crooning softly the entire time, one hand up for her to focus on. Then I reached for the reins, right below her nose, and she calmed further. I stepped up to her and blew into her nose.

  “You’re a sweet girl,” I said. “You can see our Prestainamatta, seated upon your fine back. You can feel her weight. The two of you have become such good friends. You’ve carried her so far, my lovely girl. And now you’re going to carry her across this bridge. And then we can head for Marport and the grooms who spoil you so thoroughly.”

  Then I took a step backwards and tugged on the reins.

  And for the first time in her life, Zana refused my lead. Instead, she dug in her feet and leaned away from me.

  “Yalla.” It was almost a whimper from atop the saddle. “I think if I try to cross this river, and we’re not holding hands, I’ll disappear back to my Heart.”