by Diana Rivers
Chapter Three
In spite of its great size, the meeting house in the Kourmairi settlement of Darthill was dark, noisy, smoky, and overcrowded; the air rank with the odor of unwashed bodies and damp clothing. I was feeling as confined and closed in as if I were trapped in the caves again. The worst of it was being surrounded by men. Their loud, rough voices grated on my ears. I had forgotten how crude and coarse Kourmairi men could be and how badly they treated their women. To me, men in large numbers meant danger, even Kourmairi men, though, for that moment, they called themselves our brothers and our friends. They seemed affable enough, but they bumped against me in passing or trampled on my feet with no thought or apology.
As I listened to the voices droning on and on, I pictured myself leaving that night with those of us who were traveling south. Goddess knows, I longed to be out of that crowded room, riding through the darkness and breathing deeply of the cool night air. Instead, I would probably be sleeping in some equally crowded and stuffy place. After that, I would likely be following Pell into Mishghall.
This meeting had been in progress since shortly past noon. We, ourselves, had just arrived in the settlement late that morning, after four days of riding—weary, short-tempered, and very wet. After that first brief moment of sun at the start of our journey, it had rained most of the way, finally slowing to a drizzle by dawn.
Before we had even come within sight of the village, we were met by a sizable group of Kourmairi men on horseback. This was not exactly the welcome Alyeeta had promised. They were all carrying crude spears or lances and were obviously very agitated and confused by our large numbers. We stopped at Pell’s signal, and she called out to them, “We are Hadera Lossi, here to help you against the Shokarn.” When that did not seem to reassure them, Alyeeta quickly volunteered to speak with them herself. She rode forward alone, showing no fear at all of their weapons. I heard the name Nhokosos mentioned several times. Soon they were all nodding and smiling like old friends.
Suddenly, one of the riders left their group and rode straight at us. After a moment of alarm, I was surprised to see that it was actually a young woman of near my age. Immediately there were angry protests from the men. One of them began calling out to her, “Ozzet, come back! Ozzet, you promised to stay with us!”
The man next to him, a man with a big, bristly mustache, said angrily, “I told you not to let her ride out with us today. This is what comes of giving her such freedom. If she were a decent woman, she would be at home with the others.”
Without turning back, Ozzet answered, “First I must see these Hadera Lossi for myself. Then I will return.” She rode down the line looking into each of our faces. When she got close to me, I could see there were tears running down her cheeks. “I knew there were others like us,” she said in a choked voice. “All my life I have waited for this day. Why did it take so long?”
“Ozzet! Ozzet! Come back!” the first man continued in a pleading tone. “It is not safe. You know nothing of these women. They may be dangerous.”
“We do not harm women,” Pell replied angrily. “We are not—”
“Pay no attention,” Ozzet interrupted. “That is my father. He is always afraid for me.” Then she spun her horse around to face the men. “I am safe enough here. These are my people. They will not hurt me.” With that, she turned back and continued down the line, only now she reached out a hand to touch us as she passed. We, in turn, reached out our hands to her. “All my life,” she kept saying. “All my life, and now the waiting is over.” Many of us were crying, even Pell, who leaned from her horse to give Ozzet a hug. “Welcome, Ozzet,” I said to her as she passed me and our hands touched. “Be welcome among us, Ozzet,” I heard Amelia say in back of me. I turned to watch as this stranger who was not a stranger slipped her horse in among ours.
After that, we drew aside for a quick discussion among ourselves, while one man rode back to the settlement with the news of our arrival. With few words, it was decided that we would ride into Darthill together. Once there, we would part ways. Some of us would head south that very night, with the Kourmairi guide that had been offered. The rest of us would make a short stay in Darthill and go on from there to help in the defense of Mishghall. As soon as this was agreed upon, we rode on with our anxious escort of Kourmairi men.
Alyeeta’s friend, Nhokosos, met us at the edge of the settlement with a small group of villagers. He, at least, made us feel welcome. Indeed, he seemed as delighted to see us as Alyeeta had promised—or perhaps it was Alyeeta herself he was delighted to see. There was something in his hearty manner that made me like him instantly and even feel some trust.
As headman of Darthill, it was Nhokosos who had called this meeting, but it was Ozzet who had insisted that we be present before she would say her part. The rest of the Star-Born seemed to feel as uncomfortable as I did in that place. Though we had tried our best to stay together, eventually the press of people grew too great. Those of us who had come in did so only at Pell’s or Alyeeta’s insistence. Many of the Star-Born were still outside. Even the Witches kept to the dark fringes of the room, all, that is, except Alyeeta, who appeared to be totally at ease, smoking a jol pipe and trading insults with Nhokosos while the room filled up. From the familiarity of their banter, I concluded that they knew each other very well, better than Alyeeta had suggested. Perhaps they had even been lovers at some time, though Alyeeta certainly had said nothing of the sort to me.
At last, when the room was packed to capacity, Nhokosos stepped up on the platform and struck a gong for silence. He had to strike it twice more before he could be heard over the din. “Our little village of Darthill, which has always been a place of peace, is about to be caught in the jaws of war, trapped between the guards and the city of Mishghall. Right now, all that stands between us and the Zarn’s army are the floodwaters of the Escuro. Indeed, if Hereschell the Wanderer had not warned us in time so that we could destroy the bridges, we would already have been overrun. And now my friend, Alyeeta the Witch, has come with her women to give us some aid.” This was met with hoots and whistles, a strange mixture of approval and derision. He had to strike the gong twice more before he could continue. “But first, we must ask Ozzet to tell us what she has seen while spying on the Zarn’s men.”
There were some angry mutterings from the men about a woman addressing the meeting. Then the one with the mustache called out, “Shame on you, old man. How could you send a child on such an errand, and a girl-child at that?”
Nhokosos scowled at him. “Because she seemed to be the best one for the job. Because she is quick and clever and small and much less likely to be discovered than you would be, Rhomar. Also, she has some powers to keep her safe. Besides, at seventeen years of age, she is hardly a child.” Once again, noise erupted from the crowd. Nhokosos had to call several more times for silence.
Ozzet had stepped up on the platform beside Nhokosos and was staring straight at Rhomar. Seeing her off her horse, I realized how small she was, almost as small as Cruzia. In size she might well have been a child, but when she spoke, shouting to be heard above the tumult, her voice was full of power. “No one sent me, Rhomar. I thought we should know what we are facing. I asked Grandfather, and he agreed to let me go.” There was a moment of silence as Ozzet and Rhomar glared at each other. Then she turned to address the meeting. “As you all know, there is just one bridge left, our swinging rope bridge that spans Thunder Gorge and can be crossed only on foot. It is being well guarded. If the Shokarn try to cross it from the other side, it will be cut in an instant. One of the watchers is my cousin, and he let me pass. That is how I was able to cross the river and observe the guards. They have gathered on a rise just above the floodwaters, three or four hundred strong, with the best armor and weapons and many fine horses.”
Ozzet continued with a detailed description of their camp. She ended by saying, “As soon as the river goes down, they will gather and camp on the shore. From there, they will be able to cross the next day, or
perhaps the day after. They will crush us on their way to Mishghall. Once they join forces with what is left of the Zarn’s army in the city, Mishghall will probably fall under their control again. Then we may not have a chance to rid ourselves of Zarns for another hundred years.”
Suddenly men were shouting and stamping, roaring loudly, “No!” and, “Never!” and, “We will not let them cross!” These Koormir of Yarmald, with their fierceness and determination, were certainly very different from the cowed, submissive Koormir I had known from my childhood in Nemanthi. There, the worst weapon they might brandish was a pitchfork or a farmknife; carrying real weapons was forbidden by the Zarn’s orders. Here, they carried swords and pikes and seemed both able and willing to use them.
Nhokosos signaled again for silence. “Then we must try to delay their crossing and block their way by whatever means we have. We must harry and harass them to slow their march.”
Alyeeta made a rude noise that sounded like something between a cough and a laugh. She called out loudly, “Well, old friend, what good would that do? How long do you think you can hold off the Zarn’s armed and disciplined guards with a troop of untrained and poorly armed farmboys? You have just heard what Ozzet said of their weapons and horses. They will crush you like bugs. We will need some better plan than that if we are going to save ourselves, and Mishghall as well.”
“Well, what do you propose, Alyeeta? If these girls of yours would fight alongside us, we might stand a chance. Their numbers are far greater than the guards’.”
“And I have already explained to you, more than once, I believe, that they cannot be used as a fighting force.”
Rhomar pushed his way forward. “And I have already said that women are of no use in this matter. Witch, why did you bring this pack of cowards with you if they cannot do the work of men? What are they doing here if they are not willing to stand with us and fight?”
Alyeeta shook her head. “This has nothing to do with courage or cowardice. These young women cannot fight the way you want them to. Their powers will not allow it. Some of them would be only too glad to oblige.”
Though I could not see Murghanth, I could hear her gravelly voice clearly enough. “If they are all such brave men, with no need of women, let them do without us. Let us go on to Mishghall, where we are needed.”
Pell called back, “Wait, Murghanth, have a little patience. Let this work itself out.”
The meeting droned on. One man called out, “If the guards cross tomorrow, the water will still be high and they will be forced to swim their horses partway. We can pick them off as they come.”
And another answered, “And if they wait? You heard what Ozzet said of their numbers and their armor.”
“What if we fight and these women stand along the banks and block their way, since they cannot be harmed with weapons?”
“A possible plan,” Pell answered. “But who knows if our powers can be used that way, to help in killing?”
“You cannot do this, you cannot do that. What good are these so-called powers, anyhow? What kind of help is this? I say it is cowardice disguised with fancy talk. You women come riding out of the north, defying the Zarn’s edict as if you were in possession of some great power, and now you refuse to help us fight his soldiers. What is this but cowardice?” Rhomar was shaking with anger.
Rishka jumped up on the platform. “I am tired of all this talk of cowardice. I, for one, would be only too happy to put my sword at your service if I could. If any wish to challenge me, they may do so now.”
“We have no time to waste fighting with each other!” Pell called out. “What if the Zarn’s army rides farther up or down the river and crosses in some other place? Once they are across, we are no match for them.”
“This is by far the shallowest part of the river. Other places will not be passable for several days. They need to be in Mishghall as soon as possible.”
Words flew back and forth. In all this madness, I found myself longing for Hereschell’s clarity. More plans, ideas, and possibilities were talked of and argued about in those next few hours than I can possibly remember. Many questions were asked of Ozzet. Alyeeta, in particular, seemed to want details. I had nothing to add to any of this. All I wanted was to be out of there before I fainted. Finally, I grew dizzy from the lack of air and the loud voices. I was just looking for someplace to sit, or at least to lean against the wall, when I saw Alyeeta pushing vigorously through the crush, making her way in my direction. Ozzet was following close behind her.
“Out,” Alyeeta said brusquely, grabbing my wrist and heading for the door. “Out of this place. Let them make whatever plans they wish. Alyeeta the Witch has her own plans. Sometimes trickery is more useful than bloodshed—and this is a good season for trickery.” She spoke in that mysterious way she sometimes had. Clearly, she had something caught in her web. But she was not telling, and I could read nothing from her mind.
Suddenly we were outside in the sunshine. It was the first sun I had seen in days, but I felt fear instead of joy. I knew what it meant. Our time was fast running out.
“The Escuro will drop quickly now,” Ozzet said anxiously. “There has been more drizzle than rain these last few days. And now with the sun and wind…”
“Good, it is just right. It will be perfect,” Alyeeta declared joyfully, rubbing her hands together with pleasure. “Will you come with me, Tazzia? I need some help for this little venture.”
“Only if you tell me what you are planning.”
“No, I need to keep silent on it a little longer. If you will not come, then I must ask another.” She glanced meaningfully toward Ozzet.
“Alyeeta!” I shouted in exasperation.
“Good, that is settled then. We will have to dress you for the part. Now, Ozzet, will you be our guide to the bridge? We must get across this evening, just at dusk.”
“Not safe,” Ozzet said quickly, shaking her head. “I cannot risk your lives that way.”
“You risked your own this morning. Besides, is it not better to risk just two of us? If my little scheme does not work, then tomorrow everyone will be at risk. Now, if you will not help us, we will have to find it on our own.”
“No, no, that is even more dangerous. I will help you.”
“Good. First, go and gather for me three or four of the best, or at least the fastest, cooks in the village. I need stacks of fresh-cooked parmicakes.” I could not imagine why Alyeeta seemed so jolly or how parmicakes could possibly save us. I certainly could read nothing from her well-blocked mind.
While the men were holding their meeting, most of the Kourmairi women were outside, doing all the “unimportant” work of the village: hanging clothes and bedding in the sun, drying grain, cooking food, and tending children. Ozzet quickly gathered some of them together. They were only too glad to assist us when Alyeeta said they might help defeat the Zarn’s men by their own efforts. “We need some parmi-fruit sweet-cakes, as many as you can make, two or three hundred at least, even more if you can manage. And you must lend us two good, stout carrying baskets, strong but not too heavy. We will also need several gourds of parmi-syrup gone to quillof, for adding water to make a potent brew.”
“Will you tell us what you plan?”
“Nothing more! You already know too much. Witches need secrecy to work with, unlike some young things who are born with the curse of honesty.” She gestured in my direction.
After that, Alyeeta turned me over to an old woman named Domiri, saying, “Make her look much older, sixty or so, a little misshapen, not very bright, and none too clean. When you are done, I will put a haze over her so they cannot see her clearly, but the better your disguise, the easier it will be to hold that illusion steady.” Then Alyeeta went off to supervise the fires and the cooking, while Domiri set to aging me. It turned out that she was Nhokosos’s wife. While she worked, she entertained me with stories of both Alyeeta and the settlement in former times.
Well before dusk, Alyeeta and I were both dressed in
our disguises. We had two large baskets packed and ready, one filled with hot parmi-cakes and the other with syrup and parmi-flavored quillof. With her kerchief and her gray wig, Alyeeta looked once again like the crazy or crafty old woman I had first met at the Hamishair market.
As Ozzet went to fetch the horses, a loud hum of noise rose from the meeting house entrance. The meeting was over, and people were pouring out into the late-afternoon sun. Suddenly, the village square thronged with Kourmairi men and Hadera Lossi. They immediately began questioning Alyeeta and me about her plans. I shook my head and stayed silent. Alyeeta seemed to take delight in answering rudely. “Just make sure you have your plans in readiness for tomorrow, and let me tend to my own affairs. And yes, we will cross the river. But that is all I will say.”
No one could persuade Alyeeta to say one more word of what she intended to do, not even Nhokosos, who tried his best to block her way. “I cannot let two women go alone among all those rough and violent men,” he protested.
“And have I ever in my life asked your permission for anything I did? Believe me, I have no plans to start now. Besides, do you think you could protect us if you came? They would cut up your old carcass in a minute and roast you over the fire.” Alyeeta had a good audience and was clearly enjoying herself. She threw her arm over my shoulder. “I love this young woman more than life itself. Would I take her with me if I did not think to bring her back safely? Anyhow, think what the choices are here, old man. Tomorrow you will either stand down there on the shore and fight against an army and likely die, or else you will run away, in which case your village will be burned to the ground, your crops and animals will be destroyed, and your city will be overthrown once again. After that the guards will likely hunt you down one by one. Not a very pretty picture. I go to try some different way that will bring no harm, and perhaps do some good. But if you bother me enough, I will forget all about it and go to bed now, for I am very tired.”