by Robin Roseau
“Lishá,” I said. I crooked a finger.
The mother hesitated, then gave the girl a little push. She walked around the counter and came to a stop perhaps five feet before me.
“I won’t bite,” I said, crooking my finger again. So the girl closed the distance. I knelt down, actually making myself shorter than she was, and smiled. “I would like to get to know you a little bit, Lishá,” I said.
Ten minutes later, the girl said, “Mama! I’m going to be a priestess, Mama!”
“No, Lishá,” I corrected. “You are a priestess, an acolyte.”
* * * *
We collected one more from The Queen’s Market before moving on.
Central Market was much bigger, and it included the artists’ way where Tiera once held shop. The Goddess led us there first, where we claimed the youngest daughter of a loving but absent-minded painter. It was to the painter’s eldest son that we gave directions before moving on.
By the time we’d collected our third girl, the townspeople had figured out what we were doing, and we found ourselves silently -- or sometimes not-so-silently -- presented with a choice of girls. After we selected one presented in this fashion, the others grew bolder, stepping into our path, but stepping aside when the guards gestured to them.
I felt bad about that, but the Goddess knew whom she wanted.
We had just passed one such presentation, a shopkeeper stepping back into the doorway of her shop, her daughter of ten years still held in front of her, when Yahamala came to an unexpected stop. Slowly we turned to our left. “There.”
“The daughter of the seamstress?”
“Yes,” she said. “But not the one she is presenting. The shy one hiding inside.”
I nodded then walked up to the woman. “The girl inside,” I said.
“No!” said the girl facing us. “Pick me!”
“We would like to meet the girl inside,” I said. “Jayla.”
“Not Jayla!” said the girl much closer. “Pick me!”
“We’d like to meet Jayla,” I repeated. And the mother nodded, pulling her protesting daughter backwards so I could step past her.
There was a young girl, perhaps five years old, and as young as any we would take today, hiding behind one of the displays, but peering out at us, and I could feel her curiosity. I closed half the distance and then knelt down. “Hello, Jayla,” I said. “Do you know who I am?”
“The High Priestess,” she said in her little girl voice. “Are you here for Lahsta?”
“I’d like to meet you,” I said. I held out my hands. “Will you come out?”
Slowly, she appeared, and even more slowly, she walked to me. I offered her a knee and asked, “Will you sit here?”
“Okay,” she said. I helped her climb into place.
“I would like us to be friends, Jayla,” I said. “We can be magic friends. Would you like that?” She nodded vigorously, so I took that as permission.
She was shy, terribly shy, but I nearly cried with her sweet, gentle nature. “You like dogs?”
She grinned and nodded.
“How many do you have?”
“Two,” she said.
I looked up at the mother. “Are they hers, or yours?”
“Hers,” said the mother.
“Larien,” I said. “Find out if any of the abbesses will let her bring her dogs. She has an affinity and a bond I couldn’t possibly break.”
“Of course,” Larien said. She quickly slipped from the shop. While we waited, I spoke quietly to both mother and daughter, telling them about the life of an acolyte.
“High Priestess?” I looked over at Larien. “Gontílorseema and Palmoínardi both offered. It would be most unusual, if not for the affinity. But they agreed Besquelálamárta would be a better choice.” I saw that Gontí was standing beside her.
I nodded and turned back to the girl. I didn’t bother asking if the dogs were properly trained. Instead I said, “You would need to teach them how to behave.”
“I will,” she promised.
“Gontí,” I said. “This is Jayla.” I gestured to her, so she approached and knelt down.
“What are your dogs’ names?” she asked.
“Messy and Biter,” said the girl. “But they were only puppies. They’re good dogs now.”
Gontí smiled at the names.
I looked over at the Goddess, who nodded to me, and so I began stroking the girl’s hair.
* * * *
We came to a stop. It was late for lunch, but it was market day, and the tables would be full now until closing. Larien stepped closer. “We can clear a space, Yalla.”
I shook my head. “No, but if the queens need a rest, we can arrange that.”
“We’ve been giving them chairs,” she said. “Ralalta is slowing down, however. We should hire a ricksha.”
“Ask Níta to handle it,” I said. I turned my attention back to the Goddess. I could tell immediately whom she was watching. “The younger one?”
“They are both lovely,” she said. I knew she meant more than physical appearance, although both girls were adorable. “Let us meet them.”
And so we stepped forward, all eyes on us. A hush developed, although it was broken as people shifted about for position, hoping to watch us. We came to a stop a short distance from two very wide-eyed girls and their mother, now all three off their chairs and facing us.
“High Priestess,” said the mother.
I nodded. “And our Prestainamatta,” I said with a gesture. Those close enough to hear me bowed, curtsied, or knelt, as they felt appropriate. I didn’t worry about them but instead looked at the girls.
The younger was perhaps eight, the other perhaps four years her elder, ten and two or so. “May I call you Jakla?” I asked the elder.
“Yes, High Priestess.”
“And you must be Moyíta,” I said. The younger girl bowed her head then hid her face.
“I’d like to get to know you both better. The Goddess has given me magic that helps us become instant friends. Jakla, would you like to see?”
“Yes, High Priestess.”
“Then come here,” I said. She was a little big to sit on my knee, but I offered it anyway. She smiled at me and sat on it, and I wasted little time.
Oh, I liked this one. I liked everything I saw. When I withdrew the magic, I said, “You pray to our Prestainamatta.”
“Every night,” she said. “Are you going to make me a priestess?”
“Perhaps,” I said. “But I also want to meet Moyíta. Do you love your little sister?”
“Yes,” said the elder. “She’s a good kid. She can call birds.”
“Can she?” I said. “I know someone else who calls birds.” The girl climbed from my knee, and then she turned to her little sister and led her over, actually helping her into place.
I used my magic, and this girl was every bit as wonderful as her older sister. I had to smile, because while the magic was flowing, she set her hands on me the same way I was touching her. And I smiled again when a small songbird flew down and landed on her shoulder. I thought it was quite brave to do so with all the rest of us around. The little bird gave a little song, nuzzled the girl’s ear for a moment, and then flew away.
“Does that one have a name?” I asked.
“They all have names,” she said. “That one is,” and then she whistled, and it sounded very much like the bird itself.
I felt someone behind me, and then Moí knelt down behind me. “Gontí got the dogs. But we have many, many birds at Velvíienta. Moyíta, are you friends with all the birds?”
“Not the really big ones,” she said. “The little ones that sing.”
“There is a bush right outside my window, and every morning the birds sing.”
The girl smiled.
“Moyíta,” I said. “Would you like to be a priestess?” I told her what it would mean. She nodded the entire time.
And so I brushed her hair. While I did so, Larien quietly
talked to the mother, and when I was done, I hugged the girl and handed her back to her mother.
But then before I could rise, the other was there, kneeling in front of me, her hands on my knees, her eyes beseeching. “Please take me, High Priestess. Please. I love our Prestainamatta. I do. And I love my sister. Please take us both. I’ll help to take care of her, and I’ll be a good girl, and I’ll study very, very hard.”
I looked at the Goddess. “I love this girl,” she said. “But it is very rare I ask a family to sacrifice two daughters to my service.”
And so I turned my gaze back to Jakla. “You are a very sweet girl,” I said. “And the Goddess loves you. But your mother is giving up her youngest daughter to serve the Goddess, and we cannot ask her to give up you as well.”
The girl turned around, not rising, and made a pleading gesture to her mother. “They said you could visit. I heard that one.” She gestured to Larien. “Please, Mother. You know we both love you, but this is what I’ve always wanted.”
Mother looked at daughter, and I saw tears welling, but she said, “It is not a sacrifice we make. It is a great, great honor. If the Goddess wants both my daughters, then our family would be deeply honored if you claim both.”
I looked up at Mom. Was it terrible? I was taking these girls, and I didn’t even know their mother’s names. “I would need to see into your heart,” I said.
She smiled. It was ragged, but she smiled. “Do you want me to sit on your knee, too?”
I laughed and stood. “Perhaps not.” I moved closer, lifted my hands, and waited. The woman took them and set them into place, and so I let the magic flow forth.
The aching loneliness was nearly overwhelming, and I staggered. My eyes opened, and I pulled my hands away. “You have no one else, and you offer both your daughters?”
She lowered her eyes and said nothing.
Then the Goddess was behind me, her hands on my shoulders. “You know what to do, Yalla. Follow your heart.”
And so I nodded, and I turned to Jakla. When I lifted my hands, she smiled broadly and moved closer, then pulled my hands into her hair. I laughed and began stroking.
The change was the fastest I’d seen, and the bond burned as brightly as any, even as brightly as the bond with my closest. “Oh, Jakla,” I said, hugging her tightly. “Larien, I want to talk to these three privately tomorrow evening.”
“Of course, High Priestess.”
Then I turned to the mother. “May I call you Tahya?” she nodded. But her eyes widened when I lifted my hands. “We need you as well,” I said. “Would you join us?”
She began sobbing, but she nodded vigorously, and I stroked her hair.
When it was done, all around us, people applauded wildly, some shouting, some whistling.
I hugged them all, and then I called out, “Moí.” The abbess stepped forward. “Tahya, this is Palmoínardi.” I stumbled over the name. “I am so sorry. Now you hear why I use shortened names. Moí is the abbess at Velvíienta, on the coast. You’ll be going there to learn, and to help serve.”
“Tahya,” said Moí with a smile. “What is your proper name?”
“Talímarishyá,” replied the mother.
“Well, Talímarishyá,” said Moí. “You may call me Palmoínardi, but many who live at the abbey call me Resha. In the language of the Goddess, it means Mother.”
“Resha,” Tahya said with a smile. “Yes. Resha.”
* * * *
We took more, of course, many more, twenty and two girls in all, and several women to help serve as mothers to all the girls. But there is one more encounter I wish to share.
It was the Goddess who was leading us. Ralalta and Mesenorié were both riding in the pulled cart, and I was beginning to think we should hire at least one more, but the Goddess assured me we were nearly complete. “We should take carriages back when we are done.”
I nodded to that.
We worked our way through the streets, and then I saw the guard growing nervous. And finally Mesenorié called out, “Yallameenara, do you know where we’re going?”
“I’m not the one leading us,” I said. “She seems to have a particular destination in mind.”
“The queen is nervous,” said the Goddess.
“This part of town seems rather run down,” I said.
“I wonder if the guards will stop us after we turn the next corner.” There was something in her voice that made me perk up.
We turned a corner, walked a half block, and then turned left into the entrance of what I immediately recognized was a district of ill repute.
“Yalla!” Mesenorié complained.
I turned. “All Altearans revere our Prestainamatta. All are her children. The women here are her daughters. But perhaps it is time for you to return home.”
“It is most certainly not.” She turned to her seatmate. “Care to walk?”
Ralalta laughed. “Why not?”
And so, the queens of Alteara and Framara climbed from the cart and followed along as the Goddess led us deeper into the region.
We attracted a lot of attention. We’d been drawing attention all day. “Yahamala, is this the first time a priestess of yours has walked this block?”
“I believe it may be,” she said. Then we came to a stop. “There. Her. A half block further. Ask her to come with us.”
“At the corner?”
“Yes.”
“All right.”
“Go alone,” she said.
“All right.” I raised my voice. “Everyone stay here. I mean it.”
“Lady Yallameenara,” complained the guard captain, as soon as she saw where I was heading. I turned to her. “Stay here. You’ll scare her off.”
“Please don’t do this.”
“Yalla,” said the Goddess. “Bring Naddíqualestra and Resaírelteena with you.”
“Féla, Naddí with me. Everyone else stay here.”
The two former maid-spies hurried to flank me, and we stepped forward.
As we approached, I could feel uncertainty from the woman. She looked around, and her mouth dropped when she realized I was walking straight to her.
“Please do not run,” I called out.
She didn’t run. Instead, she turned to face me fully, standing up straight. “You are the High Priestess,” she said as I grew closer. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I looked her up and down. It was clear what she was. But I thought she was far more than she appeared. “I am,” I admitted. “I would like you to come with us.”
“I have to work,” she replied.
“The Goddess makes this request,” I added.
“She’s here?”
“Standing there,” I said with a gesture. “Watching us.” I turned back. “What word do you use for her?”
“Prestainamatta,” she whispered, leaning close.
“Do you know what that word means?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Please come with us,” I said. I held out my hand. Slowly, tentatively, she gave me hers.
I nodded and turned, and together, our heads high, I led this lady of the night back towards the Goddess and two queens. But from an open doorway, a man stepped out. “Where do you think you’re going, Rist?”
That was not her name. It was a word I hadn’t heard often, but I thought “Mangy Dog” might be a close meaning.
“She is coming with me,” I said. “If you don’t like it, you may talk to my friends.” And I gestured.
The man turned, and that must have been the first time he saw the guards. He quickly disappeared into the building and slammed the door.
“I think you just got me fired,” said the woman.
“Do you like your job?”
“There is need.”
“Well, let us see what we can do about that need,” I said. And I tugged her forward.
* * * *
The Goddess led our way from the district, and then further through the streets of Lopéna. No one seemed to know
where we were going, but then beside me, the woman whispered, “No.”
“You’ve guessed where we’re going?”
“I’ve had three clients talking about you today,” she said. “Please don’t take my daughter.”
“She wants to meet her,” I said. “But she also wants to meet you.”
Something fell out of the woman’s step, a spirit that had been there since the moment she set her hand in mine. But she didn’t take her hand from mine, and we followed the Goddess through the streets of Lopéna.
And we arrived at a small cluster of buildings, and a sign. “School for Girls”. It didn’t even have a proper name. And suddenly I understood the need this woman had said.
And with that, the woman’s name flared in me, and I said, “May I call you Thessa?”
“No one has called me that in a long time.”
“I won’t be able to say your full name,” I said.
“Of course, High Priestess.”
We didn’t pause at the door, Láti holding it open for us. We followed the Goddess until we found a young girl cleaning the floor of a classroom.
“Oh,” I said. “I thought she was a student.”
“A student and a servant at the same time,” explained Thessa. “Neshí, look who is here.”
The girl looked up. “Mama!”
“What is the meaning of this?”
I turned, and there was no mistaking the headmistress. I separated from Thessa and smiled. “I am the meaning of this,” I said.
“Priestess? Do you know what that woman is?”
“Yes. She is this girl’s mother. I wish to speak with both of them. And my title is High Priestess. Do you mind if we use this classroom? No? Excellent.”
I gestured, and Larien and Terél moved to intercept the headmistress. Oh, what would I do without them?
I turned back, and Thessa was hugging her daughter. I stepped over to them. “Neshí, I am the High Priestess to the Goddess. She wishes to meet you.”
“She does?”
“Yes,” I said. Then I turned and led the way into the classroom, my expanded troop following behind me.
“Yalla,” said the Goddess. “Start with the mother, but make no decisions until you have looked at both.”