by Robin Roseau
“Then I have a question for you and Vérundia together. I need more help in Framara. I do not wish to wait to begin building the temple we have been designing. I do not wish to wait to begin building the abbey. And I need help spreading the word of our Prestainamatta. I need help teaching the young acolytes. If the two of you wish to remain in Alteara, there is much to do here. But if the two of you wish to travel to Framara, I would love to have you. Which would bring you the most joy?”
The two turned to each other, and I saw them holding hands. They spoke quietly, and it was only a moment or two before Vérundia turned to me. “Yallameenara, we wish to celebrate the solstice celebrations with you. If we would be tied to Framara, we wish to remain here.”
“I couldn’t see coming to the Heart of the Goddess without you, Vérundia,” I said. “I may never travel aboard ship again, but you and Hastiá could, and meet us here or in Indorítanda, then travel the remaining distance with us.”
“Then we will help you in Framara.”
I bowed my head. “Thank you. Then I have three questions.” I turned to the Goddess. “How many girls of Framara have long, black hair?”
“Thousands, Yalla,” she said. “Thousands. But not all are suited to become mine.”
“Far more than we could absorb?”
“Yes,” she said. “Far, far more.”
“How many in Lopéna?”
She smiled. “More than we can absorb.”
I nodded.
“Then I have two questions, and we will have the same two questions regarding Framara. How many can we absorb, and is it better to take twenty today and very few next year, or ten each year, year after year?”
Moí, the abbess of Velvíienta, located on the coast north of Hergenseé, lifted her hand. “Before we can discuss that, I would like to know if we would have more support?”
“More priestesses?” I asked.
“Not necessarily. Funds, and permission to hire women of the nearby villages to help.”
“Prodótar, can I afford that?”
“It depends upon what you’re really trying to do,” he said. “I do not believe the answer is going to be a thousand girls.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then yes, you can afford it.”
“If not, the crown will help,” said Mesenorié.
“But you gave me Indorítanda in part for these very reasons,” I said. “And so that is what we will do.”
“Yalla,” said Yahamala. “I do not want the abbeys to hire these women. If they need adults to help with the children, then we will claim adults. That is done more carefully, but as you have seen, I have done it before.”
I repeated that and nodded then turned back to Moí. “You will have the support you require, but you will need to tell me what that is.”
“Of course, High Priestess,” she said.
“Before we discuss it, I will point out we have a very good headmistress from Framara with us. She may have insight.” I turned to Gwenla. “Are you able to follow a conversation in Altearan?”
“If everyone speaks clearly for me,” she replied in that language.
“We’ll help her,” said Naddí.
“All right, then,” I said. “I now open the floor.”
* * * *
The main conversation wasn’t really about how many we should claim, how many we could absorb, but whether it was better to take them evenly or all in a clump. It was nearly set to take them all at once, because then they would all learn together, but then Gwenla said, “No.”
And we all turned to her.
“Yes, they could all learn together,” she said in slow Altearan. “But what the girls learn is not only what we teach them in class. They must learn to be leaders, and to be nurturing, and they learn through experience of helping newer girls. If you have, for instance, twenty new girls now, and only two each year after that, there is insufficient opportunity for the twenty, and none at all for the girls to follow.”
“You couldn’t have said that a half hour ago?” Résalienárti complained, the abbess from Manásuéla, the one who would have replaced Vérundia if other choices hadn’t been better.
“I wasn’t sure how to frame it,” she said.
“This is why I asked all of us to be here,” I said. “I wish us all comfortable with the decisions we reach today.”
The conversation went around again after that. Primarily I listened, as did the Goddess. At one point I leaned to her and asked if she had anything to add.
“They are discussing the right points,” replied the Goddess. “I am quite satisfied, Yalla. I will be far more involved in the next conversation.”
I smiled and caressed her cheek.
“It’s not a question of how many we can house,” Moí said at one point. “It is how many we can love.”
“That is ridiculous,” Résalienárti replied. “There is not a limit to how many you can love.”
“There is a limit to how many will feel that love,” Moí countered. “I personally tuck each of my girls into bed every night. When I have younger girls, I read to them first.”
“That is what I want,” I interjected. “But does it need to be you personally, Moí, or can you tuck in four, and someone else tuck in four?”
“The older girls help, too,” she replied. “I have never had so many I couldn’t tuck the little ones in myself. Every single girl gets a goodnight kiss, every night. Every single girl gets quality attention from someone older, someone who loves her. And Yallameenara, if you use the older girls for that, then it is a mistake to send that girl out into the world when she becomes a priestess, as that is akin to taking the younger girl away from her mother a second time.”
I nodded. “A good point,” I said. “So how many surrogate mothers can you absorb, and how many girls can feel love from such a mother?”
“Yallameenara,” Moí countered, “Those are good questions, but I still intend to offer a goodnight kiss to every girl in my abbey, every night.”
“Good,” I said.
“These surrogates cannot teach the classes,” Résalienárti pointed out.
“No, they cannot,” I agreed. “But they will be taking the classes.”
* * * *
In the end, the three abbesses were not in complete agreement, and the answer they gave was smaller than the one Vérundia, Féla, and Naddí reached. When I asked about that, Vérundia pointed out there were more priestesses in attendance at the Heart of the Goddess, and so they could absorb more. “However, not all girls thrive at the Heart. We sometimes move them to one of the abbeys.”
But we reached a conclusion.
The question of Framara was left unsettled, but we had time.
Mesenorié, Tradódid, and Prodótar had been quiet, but I turned to them. “When is market day?”
“Today, actually,” Tradódid said.
“But we can declare a holiday whenever we wish,” Mesenorié added.
I turned to the Goddess. “I wish a favor.”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“You don’t even know what my favor is.”
“Are you sure?”
I told her what I wanted. She laughed. “That is a perfect plan.”
“Well then. I want to thank everyone for coming today.”
“Oh, no,” said Mesenorié. “Don’t think you’re running off without me,” she said. “If I can borrow your maids, they can give me a little disguise.”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Yahamala. “We will provide your disguise.” She pulled me to my feet and dragged me around the table to the queen. “This will be temporary and will wash off in the baths. Yalla, this is just like what we did last night, but I will guide the magic.”
And so I began stroking Mesenorié’s hair and face, too. And before all of us, she changed appearance, taking on a new face and the hair of a priestess. It only took a minute, and then the Goddess laughed. “If you put her in vestments, no one will look twice.”
Tradódid cocke
d his head. “Her eyes are the same, but I wouldn’t recognize my own wife.”
“What about me?” Ralalta asked with a grin.
“Of course,” said Yahamala. And so soon we had two new temporary priestesses, both of them smiling, and I could feel the joy wafting off Ralalta.
“Yallameenara,” said Tradódid. “I insist on an honor guard.”
“Of course,” I said.
He turned and settled his gaze on Tríaperiláti. “You remain in the royal guard, on duty to the high priestess,” he said. “Please put on a proper uniform and meet them at the palace gates.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Láti.
“Prodótar, see to their guard, please.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” said the prince. He turned to my maids, current and former. “You four are with the High Priestess and queens.” They nodded. “Yallameenara, fifteen minutes at the gates?”
“That’s perfect,” I declared.
* * * *
We made quite the troop leaving the palace. We had the offer of carriages, but Ralalta and Mesenorié agreed it was a good day for a walk. And so I turned to the Goddess. “Was there anywhere we should start?”
“Let us begin with The Queen’s Market,” she said.
“Mesenorié,” I said. “Would you care to lead the way?”
“I believe I would,” she said.
I walked, arm-in-arm with the Goddess. Ralalta and Mesenorié had Terél and Larien, respectively. Vérundia and Hastiá split up, walking with Gontí and Moí. I made a subtle gesture to Féla, so she took Résalienárti’s arm. The other maid-spies, or former maid-spy, in the case of Naddí, clustered around, their gaze watchful. And around us all, members of the royal guard.
There were several markets around Lopéna. The richest of them was referred to as The Queen’s Market, and it was dominated by expensive restaurants and shops selling quality goods. But this was Market Day, and so there were also individual vendors selling their own goods. As soon as we entered, I said, “Féla. Naddí. You know what I want.”
They laughed and agreed.
“Show Está and Níta as well,” I said.
“Of course, Yalla,” said Féla. But I noticed I always had at least two of them nearby, even if two others were off to this shop or that cart, buying little treats to share with everyone.
I smiled broadly. “Joy,” I said to the Goddess.
“The right emotion for today. It would have been easy to be far too serious.” And then she pulled on my hand, and we moved to the front of the group, the Goddess taking over our direction.
She led us to one of the dining areas, one catered to by several of the small restaurants. I looked around, wondering why she’d led us here.
“The one I want is coming,” she said. And then she turned, and I saw a girl pushing a cart. She was young, wearing a white smock and a hat, but from underneath, I saw long, black hair pulled into a braid down her back. “Her.”
I made a gesture, asking the rest to hold back. I pulled the Goddess with me, and we set ourselves in the girl’s path. She came to a stop, looking past her cart at us. Her eyes grew wide. “Priestess! I am sorry.”
“Do not be, Yee-yee,” I said. “I set myself in your path.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I am not just any priestess,” I said. “I am the high priestess to the Goddess Yahamala.”
Her eyes grew even wider, as if that were possible.
“You are?”
“I am.” I looked around, found a seat, and moved to it. I crooked a finger. “Come here.”
“I’ll get in trouble if I’m slow.”
“You won’t get in trouble today,” I said. “Sit here.” I pulled another chair around so she’d be right in front of me. I received a skeptical look, and then she glanced over her shoulder. “Please, Yee-Yee,” I said. “The High Priestess wouldn’t lie to you.”
She didn’t say a thing, but she moved to the chair and sat down, clasping her hands in her lap. She looked up at me.
“Do this the way you feel is best, Yalla.” At that, I nodded.
“Yee-Yee,” I said. “I would like us to get to know each other just a little bit. Did you know? The Goddess gives me magic.”
“She does?”
“Yes. It helps me to get to know people. Would you like to get to know me?” Slowly, she nodded. “I have to touch you,” I said. I gestured on myself. “Is that okay?” Again, she nodded. So I leaned forward, setting a hand along her head, my fingers reaching to the back. The other I set against the top of her chest, careful to be proper.
I’m sure by now I had gathered attention, but I paid no attention to it. Instead, I let the magic flow, and after a moment, I got a very good look at the girl.
I asked questions. Is this a sweet girl? Could her family spare her? Does she wish to devote herself to the Goddess?
The answer to each question was, “Yes”, and only the second question was not “Yes, beyond all doubt.” I smiled, caressed her cheek, and withdrew the magic.
“Were you surprised by what you saw?”
“You love... everyone!” she exclaimed.
“Not quite everyone, but many, many people,” I said. “Yee-Yee, I already know the answer, but I am going to ask out loud. Do you wish to become one of my priestesses? You would go away and begin as an acolyte while you learn all there is to learn about our Prestainamatta. We would take very good care of you, but you would not see your family very often.”
“I could be a priestess?”
“I am told that in Alteara, sweet girls with long, black hair wonder if the Goddess will choose them. She doesn’t always ask. Today, we are asking.”
“Yes!” she said. “Yes! I want to be a priestess!”
“Well then,” I said. I began stroking her hair, and the magic flowed. Her hair was already full length, but the braid unwrapped, and the hat slipped from her head. And then the white grew in, seeming to begin at the roots, then flowing down in waves, settling into the style unique to a priestess of Yahamala. And when it was done, the bond between us formed.
We both smiled brightly. “Hug me now, Yee-Yee, and let us go show your mother your new hair.”
“I’m a priestess now?”
“Yes, an acolyte priestess from this day forward.”
I collected my hug, and then we stood. I took her hand, and the three of us turned to the restaurant she’d exited from a few minutes earlier.
“My cart!”
“Someone will bring it,” I said. I laughed later when I saw that “Someone” was the Queen of Framara.
The restaurant was small, with only six small tables. It was still early for lunch, so only one held patrons. I didn’t see anyone else.
“What is your mother’s name? Is she here?”
“Mama!” the girl called. “Mama! The High Priestess wants you.”
I heard someone call back.
“Mama!”
I shook my head, but I smiled when an annoyed-looking woman appeared from in back. “Yee-Yee-” Then she broke off. I wasn’t sure if it was the sight of me, and the people behind me, or if it was her daughter’s hair that stopped her. She lifted her hand to her mouth.
“The Goddess has claimed Yee-Yee,” I said. “You are her mother?” The woman silently nodded, not removing her hand. “I know this is a shock. We appreciate the sacrifice your family is making. Please bring her to the palace no later than immediately after breakfast the day after tomorrow. Do you have questions?”
Yes, it was abrupt, but I didn’t have time to linger.
“If you have questions, come to the palace early,” I added. “We will have more time for you.”
Mesenorié stepped up behind me. “We’ll hold a dinner for all the families tomorrow night,” she whispered.
So I added that. “I hope you’ll come.”
“We will,” the woman said. “Yee-Yee...” Then she dropped to her knees and held out her arms.
I leaned ove
r to her and whispered, “Go to her. I’ll see you again tomorrow at dinner.”
The girl nodded and walked slowly to her mother, who pulled her into her arms tightly. I stepped forward and stroked the woman’s head, just a moment, and said, “She is a sweet girl, and we will be very careful with her.”
“I know you will,” she said.
Then I turned and walked from the restaurant, but I came to a stop outside. “That part is hard,” I said.
“It always is,” said the Goddess. “Well, almost always. This isn’t always true, but nearly always, the girls I claim come from loving homes.”
“The ones who most need you are not so loved.”
“Yes, but those have the hardest time coming to me. It does happen, but it is not often. I take the ones who can best serve me, Yalla.”
“I understand,” I said. I hugged her for a minute.
“There is another here,” she said. “The daughter of a spice merchant.”
“The spice shops,” I called out. And it was Mesenorié who gestured the direction.
* * * *
“This shop,” said the Goddess with a gesture. “The middle of three daughters.”
I nodded and stepped to the door. Féla had it open by the time I arrived, and we stepped inside.
I’d expected to be assaulted with the scents, but the spices and herbs were all stored in well-sealed jars, and the scents were present, but manageable. I looked around for a moment and then stepped forward to the counter where a woman of perhaps thirty and five years waited.
“Priestess,” she said. “How may we serve you?”
“High Priestess,” I corrected. And then I gestured. “And your Prestainamatta.”
Hearing that, the woman immediately dropped into a curtsey. “Prestainamatta,” she said.
“Rise,” I said. I waited, and then said, “We would like to meet your daughters.”
“My d-d-daughters?”
“Most specifically,” I added, “Your middle daughter.”
“Istímalishá?”
At the name, I felt a connection, and nodded. “Is she here?”
The woman turned, moved to a curtained doorway behind her, and called out, “Lishá! Lishá, come here.”
We heard a faint response, and it was a half-minute before a girl of ten stepped through the curtain. Her mother wrapped arms around her, and the two faced us. That was when the girl realized she was facing a priestess. “Mama?”