Rook

by Robin Roseau

  “Is Está going to ask me to do the same thing?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Do you want me to soften the memories of what you have seen?”

  “No,” I said. “I do not believe I should complain about life on The Hippa.”

  “You always acknowledge that life everywhere is hard, only in different ways. What you saw happens, in spite of my efforts to end it. You must bring more people to know me, Yalla. And for that, you need help.”

  I nodded.

  Finally the two maid-spies turned, paused, and then walked to me, side-by-side. Está looked me in the eye.

  “I will now trust your instincts, Yalla. Larien and Terélmarestra do not need to translate.”

  I nodded and gave the signal, and then I stepped closer to Está. Her gaze was calm, but I could see her pulse beating in her neck. “Are you frightened of me?”

  “No,” she replied. “I am afraid you won’t accept me after you look.”

  “Is your heart pure?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Probably not.”

  “Would you harm me?”

  “No!” she said, and with great conviction.

  “Can I forever trust you?”

  “Yes,” she said, and if the previous word had been nearly an explosion, this was barely a whisper.

  “If I look into your heart, is that what I will see?”

  “Yes,” she said, another whisper.

  “Will I see the sort of things I saw in Níta?” That, she answered with just a nod, one slow nod. “Is there love in your heart?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. I could hear the pain.

  “Do you want there to be?”

  “Yes.” And that was another whisper.

  “Joy?” She nodded. “Serenity?”

  “I don’t know if I even know what that is.”

  “I will find trust?”

  “Yes,” she said, firmly this time.

  “I will find other things, too, won’t I?” I said. “I will find hurt, and sorrow, but I will find other things. Will I find lust?”

  She laughed. “Probably. I’d rather you didn’t examine it too closely.”

  I snorted my own laugh. “May I look, Está?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, with another nod.

  And so I lifted my hands. This time, I worked slowly, touching her gently, and setting my hand against her chest. Then I released the magic while closing my eyes.

  We both gave a gasp, not in pain, but then I felt how full of turmoil she was. She was right. She didn’t have even the most passing acquaintance with serenity. And like Níta, I saw she was afraid, but for different reasons I couldn’t quite understand.

  We looked into each other for a while, a long while, and then the Goddess was there. “I cannot make the same promise, Yalla,” she said. “She is too far from me.”

  I opened my eyes and turned to her. “Are you telling me not to do this?”

  “Any promises you make are your own,” she said. “Perhaps she will draw closer to me. I don’t know.”

  I nodded and then kissed Está’s cheek. “I have a different promise for you, Está,” I said. “I cannot make the same promise I made to Níta, but I can make another promise, but it is only a promise to try. I would do my best to hold you close, and to bring you joy and serenity. I would do my best to give you a place that is safe, a place you can let all this go.”

  She nodded. “I could not ask more.”

  “I wish to claim you, Está, as a reminder to both of us.” I didn’t wait, but I began stroking her hair. “Allow me into your heart,” I said. “Know you are safe with me, and let me guide you to our Prestainamatta.” And as I spoke, her hair grew, not quite as long as Níta’s, but nearly as long, and every bit as white except for one black streak at her forehead. In the future, those times she wore her hair down, that streak would form half a frame of her face, the rest pure white.

  And then, as the magic faded, Níta was there. She fingered the black streak and said, “I like it.”

  I let her draw Está from me, and then the Goddess stood behind me. “If you wish to finish claiming them for me, it is the same process. It is not just the hair, after all. I can feel the links you formed. When you bring them the rest of the way to me, the link is stronger.”

  Then Larien and Terél were there. Larien brushed at my face with a cloth, cleaning the tears. Terél took my hand and kissed the knuckles. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “Every time I turn around, I need the two of you more and more.”

  “We’re right here, Yalla.”

  “I will apologize to Alta, but we’re not waiting on the temple, and we’re not waiting on the abbey or the shrines, either.”

  “All right,” Larien said.

  “We’ll need another meeting tomorrow, and I would like everyone there, including Mesenorié and Tradódid. Can you find a page and send a message asking if they could indulge me?”

  “I’ll handle it,” Larien said.

  “Thank you.”

  But then Está and Níta turned back to face us, then stepped forward. “High Priestess,” Está said. “We wish to take the same classes the acolytes take. Is that possible?”

  Terél translated that for the Goddess, and she said simply, “I have given permission, so it is your choice how much you will teach them, Yalla.”

  I nodded understanding then paused. I considered offering partial permission, teaching of the Goddess and the principles of our faith, but not her language, but then I decided that was insufficient. And so I answered simply, “Yes. And I wish you both to pray with me in the mornings. Will you both do that?”

  “We will,” Está said for both of them.

  * * * *

  Larien barely made it to the door to send her messages when there was a knock, and so she was right there to open it. On the other side was Tríaperiláti, standing beside a page. She was dressed in casual street clothes.

  “Ah,” I said. “Láti. Please come in. Larien, send your messages on their way. I imagine that page will do.”

  Then I gestured and got us all seated, the Goddess beside me. “Yalla, please speak for me. Tríaperiláti, Prince Prodótar does not have a solution. I may. Do you wish my help, or do you have other choices.”

  “If you can help, Prestainamatta,” she said, “I would be grateful. I’m not afraid of being a mother, but I cannot fight the Duke, and I would not let him have my children.”

  “Yalla, I wish to see into her heart, just like I taught you.”

  I nodded and switched into Altearan. “Láti,” I said. “I would like to look into your heart. I will see the sort of woman you are, and at the same time, you would see into me. You do not have to accept, but it is necessary before the Goddess and I can help you.”

  She nodded. “I trust you, Lady Yallameenara.”

  “Remain there,” I said. I stood, stepped to her, and set my hands in place. Then I closed my eyes and released the magic.

  She was a good woman. I saw that immediately. She was a good woman with a strong drive to protect the weak. At the same time, I felt a sweet gentleness about her, and when I pursued that, I caught fleeting images of her with small animals.

  “Your family are farmers.”

  “Yes. And yours ride the grassy plains.”

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  “Yalla,” said Yahamala. “Ask about her greatest hope.”

  I didn’t actually form the question aloud, but instead I wondered about it. The answer took a moment to form, and then I saw... me. I didn’t understand at first. She wanted me?

  “No, Yalla. Why does she see you? What are you doing when she sees you?”

  Again, the answer came slowly. She saw me speaking about the Goddess, explaining her over and over to everyone who asks me. And then Larien and Terél were beside me, also talking to the people, and Láti was listening carefully.

  I opened my eyes and turned to the Goddess. “I do not wish to jump to conclu
sions.”

  “Then ask the question,” she said, “as you have these others.”

  And so, silently I asked, “Láti, do you wish to become a priestess?”

  The answer was muddled, and the Goddess said, “Ask other questions.”

  “Do you wish to serve our Prestainamatta?”

  That answer wasn’t at all muddled: an overwhelming ‘Yes’.

  “Do you wish to know the love of our Prestainamatta?” Another overwhelming answer. “Do you wish to join my household?” Yes, and yes, and yes again.

  I withdrew the magic and opened my eyes. Láti was looking up at me with what was clearly wonder. “I saw so much. Oh, Lady Yallameenara. Thank you for being our high priestess.”

  I caressed her face then offered a gesture to Larien to stop translating. “What will I do with her?”

  “Invite her, and then we shall see.”

  “A third promise?”

  “Yes.”

  I nodded. I looked at Larien. “If she agrees, I’ll give her to you.”

  The woman nodded. “We’ll find something to do with her.”

  I turned back to Láti. “We have one solution. You could join my household.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I do not believe you would be a soldier anymore, but we have so much work. You would need to learn more about our Prestainamatta, and you would help our priestesses. I am not sure what exactly, but there is no end of the work. You are a good woman, Láti. But you have a strong need to protect, and perhaps you wish to remain with the royal guard. If so, I can protect you. This Duke would be a fool to cross me.”

  “I could really join you, High Priestess?” she asked. “I am sworn to the guard.”

  “And Prince Prodótar has given his permission for our Prestainamatta to resolve this issue as she sees best.”

  “Then yes,” she said. “Yes.” And even without the magic between us, I could feel her hope swell. “Yes,” she said a third time.

  “Black this time, Yalla,” she said. “But perhaps with a touch of white.”

  “I believe you’re right,” I said. I moved closer to Láti again and began stroking her hair. She looked up into my eyes as I did so, then closed her own eyes as I continued to stroke. As her eyes closed, that was when I let the magic flow forth.

  It knew what to do on its own. It was my own intention that seemed to guide it. Like the others, her short hair grew and lengthened. It had natural wave, but the wave smoothed, becoming straight, and the color deepened until it was as dark as night. But then I stroked where I wanted white, and it was as if I pulled white paint through her hair. I gave her a white streak. When I had done Está, the streak was to her right, but I did Láti’s to her left. And so in a way they were in a mirror, the streaks on opposite sides, but in a way they were the same, black to the right and white to the left.

  The bond formed. It was not as strong as the bonds to Larien and Terél, but it was there, and I knew I could call on it if I needed. And so I let the magic fade, my hands coming to a rest. Then I used just one hand under her cheek to lift her, and she stood, opened her eyes, and looked down at me.

  “In this household,” I said. “We hug.”

  She crushed me to her.

  “To the members of my household,” I said, “My name is Yalla. You may have the time until we leave to see to your needs, or you may simply collect your things and join us. We will find a bed for you. If any ask, the Goddess has claimed you as her own. If you have trouble, come to me.”

  I leaned away. “The things as a guard, your weapons and other things: are they yours, or do they belong to the guard?”

  “They are mine.”

  “I do not know if you will ever wear the uniform again. I will need to talk to Queen Ralalta about your weapons. Unless you hear otherwise, you remain armed, on my authority. But I will need to discover how far that authority extends.”

  “I understand, High Priestess.”

  “Yalla.”

  She smiled. “Yalla.”

  “How is your Framaran?” I asked in that language.

  “Passable,” she replied. “Queen Mesenorié ordered a program seven years ago.”

  “Prestainamatta,” I asked, “Do you wish her to learn your words?”

  “Yes. I would like her to learn everything Gressa and Tyreen learn.”

  “Very good.” I repeated that, looking at Larien. She simply nodded. “Wait one minute.” I moved to my desk and sat down. Then, working slowly, I crafted a letter to the king and queen, telling them very briefly I had claimed one of their guards to my household. I finished and signed it, and then invited Láti over. “Here, at the bottom, please write your name. You may read the letter first.”

  We traded places, and then she wrote out her name.

  I folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope. “I wonder if Ralalta is awake.”

  “She was when you called us,” Larien said. “Everyone was in her quarters.”

  “Well then. Let us invite ourselves. Láti, come, and then we’ll release you to see to your needs.”

  I led the way across the hallway and knocked. Gressa answered the door and said, “It is Yalla.”

  “Well, let her in,” said the queen.

  I strode into the room at the head of half my household, it seemed, and announced, “Queen Ralalta, there have been a few changes within my household.”

  There were a few gasps. Ralalta stood and walked over. By the time she arrived, the maid-spies and former guard were arrange in a line, and Ralalta moved from one to the next, fingering the hair of each. “Well, well,” she said finally, reaching Láti. “I do not know this one.”

  “You have met,” I said. “But she is not in uniform. This is Tríaperiláti, formerly of the royal guard of Alteara, now claimed by our Prestainamatta into my household.”

  Ralalta laughed. “You have been busy, Yalla. I am not sure I fully understand what all this means, but congratulations to the three of you.”

  “I have told Láti that until she is told otherwise, she should remain armed, on my authority. However, I do not know if I have such authority, Queen Ralalta.”

  “I do not rule in Alteara, but within the borders of Framara, you do.”

  “Well, I believe I will assume I do here, as well, and if not, someone will tell me, I’m sure.” I grinned. “I have dispatched messages. I wish a very large meeting in the morning. Will you attend, Queen Ralalta?”

  “Of course, Yalla.”

  “I want all there. There is rot in this world, and we have the cure. Now, I am quite worn, and am going to bed.”

  * * * *

  It was not all at once, but my bed was very, very full, but I slept with the words of a goddess whispering into my ear.

  Recruitment Drive

  Everyone I invited accepted my invitation, and so we had three monarchs, a prince and his wife, which pleased me, three abbesses, a headmistress, one artist, two scribes, several priestesses, two maid-spies, and one former guard. And, of course, one goddess.

  We shared our normal greetings, and then I turned to Mesenorié and Tradódid. “I claimed one of your guards.”

  “We know,” Tradódid. “We are pleased, Yalla. This is a good solution, and we feel Tríaperiláti will be a good addition to your household.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Then I turned to Princess Felésartinda. “Was there something you’d like to announce?”

  She began smiling broadly. “I am with child.”

  Mesenorié and Tradódid began smiling immediately, then Tradódid began laughing in his joy while Mesenorié stood and enveloped the expectant mother in a hug. She and Prodótar both received hugs and congratulations from many in the room, and I thought the joyous moment was a good bookend to the conversation we were about to have.

  “There is much talk of babies lately, it seems,” I said, now speaking in the words of the Goddess. Larien provided translations, as always. “We will soon be awash.”<
br />
  “We owe much thanks to you, High Priestess,” Mesenorié replied. “We will forever grieve the mistakes we made, those years ago, but we couldn’t be more pleased with how you have embraced your role.”

  “Well, we aren’t discussing how I first came into my role, but I am about to embrace my duties even more deeply than I already have.” I sobered my expression. “Yesterday evening in my quarters, I was reminded that not everyone in this world follows the guidance of our Prestainamatta. There is evil in the world.”

  “There is,” Tradódid said.

  “It may not be a complete solution, but I am convinced evil can but retreat from the principles our Prestainamatta teaches us.” I repeated the eight words. I turned to her. “Am I wrong?”

  “No, Yalla,” she said, caressing my face. “You are not at all wrong.”

  “There are not enough of us,” I said. “Prestainamatta, I would like to know how you decide to bring one new girl to you this year, or three, or five?”

  She smiled. “Tell me what you want, Yalla.”

  “More.” I said. “Many more. As many as our order can absorb, and teach.”

  “But only the right girls.”

  “Yes. Only the right girls.”

  “Yalla, much of what I am is a reflection of my high priestess. My joy when atop Zana is entirely a reflection of you. When your mother was here, I was different. Now you are here. In a way, it is not I who decides, but you.”

  “So if I want more?”

  “Then we may claim more.”

  “Then I want more,” I said. “I want as many as we can absorb, as many as we can teach. But they must come to us in love and joy. We must not take so many we cannot see to them properly.” I looked around the room, my gaze settling on each of the abbesses, and Vérundia as well, then Féla and Naddí. “Before we have that discussion, I want to point out something else and ask some other questions. I have the same questions for Framara. How many can we absorb properly?” I turned my gaze to one particular priestess.

  “Hastiá,” I said. “You do not thrive in the Heart of the Goddess. I would like to know: is this because you prefer a nomadic life, or is it simply you need a place of light?”

  “The latter,” she said.