Seer's Hope

by Anderson, Maree

  “I apologize if I offended you,” Varaya said—rather grudgingly, Hope thought. “If Hope has forgiven you, then it’s not my place to judge you.”

  As Dayamar had taught her, Hope extended all her senses into the silence. She immediately sensed the physical attraction swirling between them. Despite her prejudices Varaya was drawn to Willem. She was fighting it but she found him handsome—and vulnerable too, in a way she found compelling. Through her link with Willem, Hope understood he found Varaya attractive but was wary of her reputation. Even so he was imagining in exquisite detail how it would be to kiss her and—

  She cut the link and pressed her palms to her flushed face. Thankfully both her companions were too preoccupied to notice. A change in the tone and volume of the conversations going on around her provided a welcome distraction. “What is happening?”

  “You might may as well sit with us. You’ll never find a decent seat now.” Varaya brushed off his thanks and began a muted commentary of what was taking place for Hope’s benefit. “Dayamar and Maya are walking at the head of the procession. Now I can see the bearers. Cayl, Blayne, Sanda, Markis, Kevyn and— Willem, who’s that older man?”

  “Jarren, I think.”

  “Thanks. The six of them are carrying the body on a stretcher. They’re coming up the rise now. Dayamar is chanting the rites—can you hear him?”

  Hope nodded. She could indeed hear Dayamar’s voice but found it nearly impossible to understand what he was saying. When she asked why, Varaya told her that burial rites were conducted in an archaic form of Dayamaru only used for ceremonies.

  “They’ve reached the burial site. Now the body is being lowered to the ground. Maya will watch over it while the grave is prepared. I can’t say anymore for the moment—Maya’s about to sing.”

  A pure soprano rose in a mournful elegy. Hope closed her eyes and lost herself in Maya’s song. Although she couldn’t understand all the lyrics the meaning was clear. She found herself moved to tears.

  The song concluded and then two male voices rang out, harmonizing with an ease that spoke of much practice. Hope recognized Cayl and surprisingly, Blayne. Their song was simple but masterfully sung. She recalled her parents’ and brothers’ funerals, and her heart went out to Maya, now the sole surviving member of her family. Tears dripped down her cheeks. Varaya draped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her.

  In the silence following the final notes of the song, Hope was so caught up in the emotions the singing had aroused she failed to hear what Maya was saying.

  Varaya shook her gently. “Hope! Maya is asking you to sing for her father’s spirit. It is a great honor to be asked. You must sing!” She dragged Hope to her feet, steadied her, and then resumed her seat on the mat.

  Hope swayed on her feet. Even though she couldn’t see the onlookers their gazes needled her like probing insects. Her senses swam. The expectant silence closed in. Sing? In front of all these people? To refuse would hurt Maya, but what on earth could she sing?

  A song popped into her head. She visualized the lyrics, snatched a breath, and launched into the opening line of Amazing Grace. And after the first phrase her voice gained strength and she forgot about being self-conscious. Blindness had its uses.

  As the final note of her song died, she couldn’t hear a whisper from anyone. She wrapped her arms about her middle, hoping she hadn’t embarrassed Maya or committed some shocking breach of etiquette by singing in another language.

  Gasps and shocked exclamations erupted around her and all she sensed from Varaya and Willem was shock. “What is happening?”

  The surrounding air abruptly cooled and she was buffeted by a swirling wind. She shielded her face with an arm and stood her ground. The buffeting eased to a gentle breeze and the surrounding air warmed again, as though the sun had appeared from behind a cloud. In the stillness, she detected someone’s presence. “Varaya? Willem?”

  “I am Janus,” it said.

  Chapter Ten

  Hope jerked back her outstretched hand. Maya’s father, the man they were preparing to bury? “Wh-what do you want from me?

  “Thank you for your song. It will ease my passing from this world to the next. Too, I thank you for what you will sacrifice for my people.”

  The voice sounded so sincere a little of her fear receded. “I am sorry to have Seen your death. I would take it back if I could.”

  “My death was inevitable.” The spirit’s sigh swirled around her, goosing her skin. “The gods are calling me home.”

  There was a rushing in the air above her, as might be caused by great wings.

  “It is time.” Janus’s voice was fading and she strained to hear his final words. “Tell Maya… be brave… love her.”

  “I will,” she called, and felt it in every fiber of her being when his spirit departed and vanished as though it had never been.

  “Hope?” Dayamar’s concerned voice rang out just as Blayne’s arms swept her up in a crushing embrace. She could feel him shaking.

  “Blayne, I am fine. You are squashing me.”

  “What did Janus say to you?” Dayamar asked.

  “He thanked me for my song, and for easing his passing.” She suspected she hadn’t grasped the full import of the spirit’s words, but that nagging feeling was eclipsed by the wonder she felt at the encounter. “Before the gods came for him he had a message for Maya.”

  “We will take you to her,” Dayamar said. “Quickly now. I must not delay the final part of the ceremony. It’s imperative Janus’s spirit has no reason to return to the corporeal world.”

  “Wait.” She resisted as Blayne ushered her forward. “Varaya. Is she all right?”

  “Willem is taking good care of her.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “She was thrown backward by the wind, and landed sprawled on top of him. He grabbed her to protect her from harm. Now neither of them seem to know how to react.” He huffed a low laugh. “I can’t think of a better punishment for Willem than ending up with Varaya as his life-partner.”

  She bit her lips to hide her smile. “Varaya, I will meet you later at the feast,” she called as Blayne led her away.

  Dayamar chanted the necessary words to bring the ceremony to a close, and Blayne urged her forward to stand next to Maya while the mourners filed past.

  “Your father gave me a message for you, Maya.” She was loathe to cause Maya further distress but felt compelled to reveal his last words.

  Maya squeaked. “My father?”

  “He said, ‘Tell Maya to be brave and I love her.’”

  Maya made a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Thank you. That means more to me than you could know. I’m so glad you’ve come to us, Hope.”

  “I am happy I could do this for you.”

  “Now do you believe?” Dayamar murmured for her ears alone.

  She was too busy processing the encounter to respond. She had spoken to a dead man’s spirit. She might be a harbinger of death, but she could also comfort a grieving friend. Perhaps being Sehani wasn’t so bad after all.

  ~~~

  Laughter and chatter drifted to Hope’s ears as her small party made its way to the gathering place. She’d once attended a wake for a friend of her father’s where everyone had celebrated the man’s life. It appeared the Dayamari followed a similar tradition.

  The muscles of Blayne’s arm, which he’d draped around her waist, tensed.

  “Is something—?” She faltered, belatedly realizing she was speaking into a hush.

  “I wish I could have organized a less formal occasion to introduce you in public,” he murmured in her ear. “They expect you to introduce yourself and say a few words. Are you okay with this, dearling?”

  “I think so.” She straightened her spine and confronted the silence. At least she wouldn’t have to resort to imagining everyone in their underwear. She could pretend she was merely rehearsing a speech.

  “I am Hop
e. I have come here from, uh, a distant land. Dayamar tells me I am Sehani but I am blind. Strange things happen and I am scared. But you are all kind and you help me.” She tightened her grip on Blayne’s hand and he gave an answering squeeze. “I will try hard to learn your ways. And I think… I think this is my home now.”

  She held her breath, awaiting a response. She heard mutterings, and then a woman’s voice bellowed, “Has the kit got your tongues? Make the poor child welcome for gods’ sakes!”

  Shay. Hope silently thanked the woman.

  “I have already made our new Sehan welcome,” the clothing-maker said. “As you can plainly see she is wearing one of my fine gifts. Doesn’t she look splendid? On behalf of this settlement, I welcome you, Hope.”

  “It is not your place to officially welcome newcomers,” a nasal voice protested.

  Shay sniffed, somehow managing to convey disdain and dislike in that one small gesture. “If we waited for you elders to get around to welcoming her, the food would burn and everyone would go hungry tonight. And from what I hear, First Elder Varon, you weren’t very inclined to welcome Hope when you first met her.”

  “Varon, can I have a word with you?” Dayamar said. “I have a pressing matter that would benefit from your advice.” The First Elder blustered as Dayamar drew him away, skillfully defusing the situation Shay had provoked.

  “Let’s get this gathering underway!” Shay’s shout was followed by a babble of excited conversation and the booming rhythms of drumbeats.

  Blayne pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “You said exactly the right thing.” He led her to one of the numerous cooking fires bordering a large area reserved for dancing. This particular spot had been set aside for Maya and Cayl, and he shooed off one of the volunteers overseeing the food. “I’ll see to this,” he told the young woman. “Go find your friends and enjoy yourself.” She scurried off, calling grateful thanks over her shoulder.

  “Join us, Willem,” Blayne said. “Unless you have other plans?”

  “If you’re sure?”

  “I won’t bite. I had a chat with Johan earlier today. He tells me his favorite boots will never be the same. Are you still unable to tolerate any alcohol?”

  Willem cleared his throat. “None. I don’t miss it, or feel any need to experiment, but Johan keeps plying me with vile concoctions. I don’t think he entirely believes in what Sehan Hope did to me. My ribs ache from all the vomiting. But aside from that, I feel better than I have in years.”

  Cayl chose exactly that moment to offer Willem a drink.

  “Is it sekar?” Willem asked.

  “Yes. A superior batch, too.”

  “Then no thanks. I have no desire to ruin your boots, too.”

  “Is anyone going to explain all this talk of boots? Or is it a private joke?” Varaya sounded tetchy.

  “Johan forced a drink down my throat immediately after my second encounter with Hope. I threw up over his best boots. I can’t drink any alcohol without becoming violently ill. I’m positive it’s a permanent side effect but Johan insists on experimenting. You know what he’s like.”

  “Sure do,” Cayl muttered. “I remember when he tried—without asking permission, I might add—a new mix of herbs in some vile concoction he gave me. I swear I farted for a whole—”

  “I’d rather forget that unfortunate incident,” Maya said firmly. “We must thank those who helped with the food preparation.” She dragged him away before he could launch into another of his tales.

  Hope lounged on a mat beside Varaya while the two men oversaw the cooking. Blayne seemed surprised to discover Willem shared his love of good food. The two were soon deep in conversation about various seasonings and techniques.

  She leaned back on her elbows and stretched out her legs, letting the music and merriment wash over her. It was wonderful to relax and just be for a change. Since being summoned here, her life had been dictated by forces beyond her control. She’d bounced from one incident to another like a pebble careening down a steep hill. Until this moment she hadn’t realized how stressful it all was.

  Beside her, Varaya fidgeted restlessly. “Do you want to check out the dancing?”

  Hope suspected her friend was peeved Willem was ignoring her. Varaya wasn’t used to being ignored by men. “I would like that. Blayne, I am going with Varaya. We will return soon.”

  “Don’t be too long. The food’s nearly ready.”

  Varaya steered her toward the dancers. The closer she got, the more the complex rhythms of the drums reverberated through her body.

  “Roban’s going to play!” Varaya clapped her hands.

  A trill from an instrument that sounded like a flute joined the drums. Hope listened, entranced, as the skilled musician wove an intricate little melody through the drumbeats. She barely noticed when Varaya was whisked away by one of the dancers.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  Before she could think of an excuse, she was drawn forward by large hands clasping her waist.

  “I do not know this dance.” Her fears were overruled by her unknown partner’s hearty assurance it didn’t matter a bit. He drew her closer and automatically she placed her hands on his shoulders as he led her through the first steps of the simple dance. She stepped on his toes and hastened to apologize but he only laughed.

  Reassured he didn’t expect too much, Hope relaxed and began to enjoy herself. It didn’t take long before she could anticipate the steps. He responded by leading her into more complicated moves. The musician began another song and Hope thanked her partner. Immediately her hands were grasped by the other man who swept her into another set of steps. He danced with enthusiasm but little care. She suspected he didn’t even realize she was blind. When he suddenly swung her out her hand slipped from his grasp. She tripped over someone’s foot and fell headlong into arms that tightened protectively around her.

  “Kevyn.” Blayne’s tone carried more than a hint of censure. “Next time you dance with Sehan Hope, please take a little more care of her.”

  “Sorry,” her dance partner said. “But no harm done, eh?”

  “Thank you for the dance,” she called after him as he hastened off in search of a less fragile partner.

  “I thought you were with Varaya,” Blayne said.

  “Someone asked her to dance.” She paused, wondering how he would react. She’d never know if she didn’t ask. “Dance with me?”

  The frantic music segued into a haunting melody accompanied by a slow drum beat. Blayne pulled her close until her cheek rested against his chest. “I didn’t know you liked to dance,” he said. “There are many things we must discover about each other, hmm?”

  She murmured a quiet agreement, content to be in his arms. She could have stayed there forever but inevitably the music wound down and he led her back to their cooking fire.

  “About time. I’m starving.” Cayl tried his best to sound like he was dying of hunger.

  “You’ve got two hands, haven’t you?” Blayne shot back.

  “And risk ruining good food? No way.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll serve. Grab some plates.” Blayne ladled out the stew and Maya passed out the plates along with brisk instructions for everyone to help themselves to the side dishes.

  The stew on Hope’s plate smelled delicious but she had no idea what it was, or where to find eating utensils. She hesitated to bother Blayne or Maya while they were busy serving the others. This was why she didn’t enjoy these sorts of gatherings. People tended to either leave her to her own devices, unwilling to intrude, or hovered and treated her like a small child incapable of doing anything for herself. Right now she felt like the latter.

  She dipped a forefinger into the food. Yeow. She sucked the hot stew from her finger. Mmm. Tasted gamey. Venison, perhaps? Just as well she was a total carnivore and liked red meat. She’d best leave this to cool awhile.

  Blayne glanced over at Hope. Why was she not eating? Ah. He headed over to grab some cutlery but Maya bea
t him to it.

  “Here’re eating utensils, Hope.” Maya handed them over. “Is that all you’re going to have? What about the other dishes? At the very least you should try my specialty—baked root vegetables. And there’s steamed greens, too, if you’d like.”

  “I would very much like to try them, Maya. But—” Hope’s exhalation sounded shaky. “Because I cannot see the food, I am afraid to spill it or burn myself.”

  Maya smacked her forehead with her palm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think of how awkward it must be for you. But there’s no shame in asking for help, you know. I’m your friend after all.”

  If anyone could coax Hope out of her reluctance to ask for assistance it’d be Maya. Blayne waited for Hope’s response.

  “I know, Maya. But it is hard for me to ask. Back home I learned how do everything myself. Here it is… different.”

  Frustration throbbed in her voice. It wrenched his heart.

  “I cannot even serve myself food without help. Always Blayne does things for me. He must be sick of it. He must be sick of me.”

  The complete opposite, but apparently he’d have to work harder to convince her.

  Maya placed the plate safely aside before kneeling to take Hope’s hands. “I know that’s not the case. Blayne loves you. I’ve never seen him so taken with a woman. He’d do anything for you.”

  “He was given no choice. My blindness gives him no choice. He is kind, generous, because that is who he is. It does not mean he loves me.”

  Foolish woman. He loved her so much it scared him.

  Maya glanced up then, straight into his eyes. She cast him a measuring gaze, doubtless wondering how much he’d overheard. Hope for once seemed unaware of his presence.

  “You must try some of the other dishes,” Maya offered brightly. “I’ll take your plate and give you a small serving of each.” She moved from earshot to give them some privacy. This was obviously his cue.