by Diana Rivers
“They come every year when the water recedes.”
“Watch out, you fool!” Alyeeta shouted. “These are not ordinary toads. This is a spell I learned from my old grandmother, and they will…”
“I heard you well enough when you were screeching at my men. They will unman me if they touch me. Spare me the nonsense, woman. I have made some study of nature and am not as gullible as my men. I may well be unmanned by this day, but not likely from the touch of black toads.”
Alyeeta shrugged. “Ah well, you must admit that those little black creatures did as well as any spell—or for that matter any army—to route your men. What a sight, all those men scattering in all directions…” She began to laugh again.
I saw a look of rage cross Lorren’s face. Then it was gone as quickly as it came, and suddenly he was laughing too. “The Zarn’s army, routed by little black toads…I can already tell you that it will not go well for me when I return to Eezore. There is no way I can reassemble those men of mine. Already I can hear the Kourmairi, coming to clear away our leavings.” He held the toad up at eye level, saying, “Well, small beastie, you have no doubt destroyed my military career this day. I will probably go down in the history of Eezore as the only man ever to lose a battle to toads.” He placed the toad carefully in his pocket. Then he stared straight at me. “Good luck, Hadera Lossi. I hope you stay free of the Zarn’s reach. It would please me to see more displays of this power of yours, but now is not the time.” With a nod to Alyeeta, he added, “Teach her well and keep her safe, old Witch, or whatever you are. She and her kind are something new in this tired old world.” Then he turned to me again and said, “Woman, let me have my horse.” His words were something between a plea and a demand.
“The horse is yours. You have a bond with it that I cannot bend with my will. Only do not ride at us again. It could be dangerous for you both.”
He mounted awkwardly, holding his arm against his hurt side. As he turned to ride up the slope, he said, “Hadera Lossi, I think we shall meet again on some very different path.”
“I have no doubt we shall.” I wanted to speak his name again. Instead, I said quickly, “My name is Tazzil.”
“Fool!” Alyeeta hissed.
“Well, Tazzil, I must be going, before your Kourmairi friends decide to revenge themselves on me for the Zarn’s bad manners.” As he rode up the rise, away from the riverbank, I could already hear voices from the opposite side.
When he had gone, Alyeeta shook me roughly. “Fool, you told him the truth. Truth is valuable, not something you owe to a soldier. I swear, all you star-brats have the disease of honesty, a dreadful case of truth-of-the-tongue.”
I shrugged myself free of her grip. “I told him nothing he did not already know. He has knowledge, Alyeeta. Not as you have, or yet as I have, but he has knowledge nonetheless. Besides, as you have so often said yourself, some men are meant to be lied to, and some are not.”
As soon as the captain had ridden away, Alyeeta took the little whistle from her pouch. She blew on it three times and then three more, a sound so shrill and piercing it could be heard even over the clamor of the ewee. I winced and had to cover my ears. A wild cheer went up from the other side. Soon Hadera Lossi and Kourmairi were massing on the opposite bank; strange gray shapes lurching about in the gray light.
After knotting together the cut pieces of the rope that had bound Alyeeta, I left one end fastened to the tree and tied the other to an abandoned spear. That done, I shouted across to the other side for them to make room for my throw. I could hear Pell and Rishka yelling their encouragement. My first two throws fell pitifully short. Soon I was hauling back endless lengths of wet rope, to the jeers of the Kourmairi men. Stung by their mockery, I was determined to succeed on my third try. I backed up the bank, then ran full force to the edge of the water and threw with a great shout, using all my powers and all Kazouri’s teaching. My shout was answered by a shout from the other side, and I saw several figures wading out into the water. Then the rope was pulled taut and there were more cheers, shouts, and whistles.
It seemed as if some sort of argument was in progress over who would go first, but it was impossible to hear the words clearly over the turbulence of the water. That first crossing was a slow one, as the water was still treacherous and deep. I held my breath as I watched the rope swaying wildly. Then Pell appeared out of the gloom, with water pouring from her clothes. She was closely followed by Rishka, Zenoria, and several Kourmairi men. I grabbed Pell’s hand and hauled her up the bank. She fell on me in a great wet hug, and soon we were rolling in the sand, laughing and shouting as the toads shrilled all around us.
“Gone, all gone, the whole lot of them,” I yelled. “Oh, Pell, I wish you could have seen it. The camp was cleared in minutes. And it was all because of the toads.”
“What do you mean, the toads? How is that possible?” she shouted back. But when I began to tell her, hardly able to make myself heard over the uproar, she said quickly, “Later. Tell me all of it later. Right now we must clear this place of their leavings as quickly as we can.” As she spoke, she was already struggling to her feet and brushing off the wet sand.
Pell was satisfied to wait for the story, but those first Kourmairi men were full of questions. “Where is the Zarn’s army?” “What happened here?” “How did two women do all this?” “Who helped you?”
Alyeeta drew herself up very tall. “Gone!” she said grandly. “The Shokarn army is all scattered. Those men are horseless, weaponless, near naked, and afraid for their manhood.” As she spoke, she made a broad gesture with her hands, as if she had personally scattered the guards far and wide like bread crumbs, thrown to the birds.
“You did all that with toads?”
“Just as I said we would.”
“…but how…?”
Alyeeta shrugged and turned her back. The men looked inquiringly at me, but I shook my head. I was already in enough trouble for my loose tongue. I had no wish to make it worse. Besides, a little mystery would add to their respect for us. And in truth, they had no power to draw words from me as Lorren had.
Those who crossed first brought three more lengths of rope with them. They tied one end of the ropes to trees, and used bows and arrows to send the other end back. This was far more effective than my feeble spear throw. As soon as the new ropes were in place, more gray figures began swarming across. Soon Alyeeta and I were surrounded by a circle of Hadera Lossi and Kourmairi, hugging and kissing us, rejoicing in our safety, praising us for our courage and cleverness, and asking endless questions. I was somewhat abashed by all this outpouring of praise, since I felt my own part in the matter had been very small. Alyeeta, of course, suffered from no such troubling modesty. She relished the attention and happily fabricated several different stories of how we, two lone women, had routed the Zarn’s army. I made no attempt to contradict her.
When they had enough ropes in place, some of the Kourmairi men started crossing in boats, using a system of hooks and pulleys. Soon only the very young and the very old were left on the far shore, where they stood waving and calling encouragement. Even most of the Kourmairi women crossed the river, actively helped and encouraged by the Hadera Lossi. Once they were safely onshore, they began chattering wildly among themselves, at once frightened, excited, and a little scandalized by their own daring.
As the Kourmairi began gathering up the armor and weapons, arguments broke out among the men over the ownership of these spoils. Some of these arguments grew dangerously heated. All seemed about to erupt in violence when Nhokosos stepped from a boat, helped by two younger men and leaning heavily on his staff.
The headman shouted for silence. His voice was drowned out by the noisy wrangling of the men, mixed with the roar of the river and the incessant shrilling of the toads. When his shout did not bring silence, he blew on a shell-whistle that he wore on a thong around his neck. That sound, as loud as all the toads combined, got immediate attention. Then Nhokosos climbed up on a log, waved
his arms, and roared in a voice of command, “Shame on you all. Is this how you show your gratitude, by quarreling over spoils, by making war on each other for loot? You would make the Zarn proud. His army has been routed, but you could still win this battle for him. You have been saved this day by these two women. Rightfully, all this belongs to them, since it was they, not you, who set the army to flight. Now you have swarmed across the river like scavengers, to fight over the remains. Have you no pride? What must they think of you?”
“No, no,” Alyeeta called out to him. “Nhokosos, we have no use for weapons or armor. Let them do as they please with that. Leave us the horse packs, tents, food, some clothing, and most of the horses. Add some food from your own stores and we will be even. You can trade us winter grain and spring seeds for what you keep.”
As the turmoil threatened to resume, Nhokosos pounded on the log with his staff. “Everything is to be taken back to the other side. What these women do not want will be sorted into piles. These will be assigned by drawn lots. If you do not like your lot, you may trade with another but you may not fight. There will be no Kourmairi blood shed over Shokarn loot.”
After that, all was done with better will and less rivalry. The Kourmairi, as they gathered up those mounds of spoils, moved as fast and efficiently as beetles on a carcass. I am sure it took much less time to clear that camp than it had to set it up. More and more boats were being pulled across and loaded up, though after one turned over, losing its precious cargo to the hungry river, more care was taken not to overload them.
While the Kourmairi were occupied moving and sorting the loot, Alyeeta drew me aside, away from the bustle. After looking in all directions to make sure we were not being observed, she gave me her sly old woman look and held out her hand. “My pouch, Tazzia. I want all my winnings in my own hand. I do not trust you with them. You would just turn them over to Pell; she would add them to your common purse, to be used for that mob of star-brats. But this is mine, for my own use. I risked my life for it.”
In the press of events, I had totally forgotten that I had stashed her little sack of money in my pouch. Hastily, I handed it back to her. As she cradled it in both hands, a look of naked greed crossed her face. “Good thing I relieved the soldiers of this last night, before those fools decided to run off. Otherwise, this money would have been scattered all over the shore, and the Koormir would already have made off with whatever was not trampled in the dirt.” After looking all around again, Alyeeta sat down abruptly on a fallen tree and dumped the coins out into her skirt. I was amazed at the size of her stash. Crooning with delight, she began pouring the shining coins from hand to hand. “A good night’s work. There is enough here to furnish a whole Witch convent, or at least, a very grand house in the style of Eezore.” At just that moment, I heard Zari calling my name. I turned to look. When I turned back, Alyeeta was already standing, brushing out her skirt. The coins had vanished from sight. “Mention this to no one,” she said quickly. There was a little edge of menace in her voice. Then, in a very different tone, she went on. “This is a busy moment for you, Tazzia. Go where you are needed. You have better things to do than stand here gossiping with an old woman.”
It was time to think of gathering together the abandoned horses. Before we had been able to stop them, a group of Kourmairi men had caught some the loose ones and ridden off in pursuit of the fleeing soldiers. I went with Zari and Zenoria to bring back the rest. Putting all my mind-reach into it, I called to those horses in my head. They had been badly frightened, and when they reappeared, a few at a time, they were timid and hesitant. Snorting and rolling their eyes, they danced a step or so sideways for every few steps forward they took. When some of them were finally willing to come up to me, I talked to them and petted them, trying to gentle them as best I could. They rubbed against me in gratitude, snuffling softly and lipping my hand. Suddenly, in the midst of all that chaos, I slipped into a deep sense of creature connection, the kind of peace I so seldom feel with my own kind. For a while I stood there, tranced among the horses, until Zenoria’s voice called me back.
The sun was beginning to break through the mist. Steam was rising from the sodden shore. The river, though still fierce and dangerous, was clearly receding. As the Kourmairi were anxious to be back on their own side, we began moving the horses across the river. Rishka took charge of this. She and Zenoria rode the lead horses, and soon there was a whole troupe crossing, swimming frantically in the middle and then struggling up the bank on the other side. After Alyeeta had watched this activity for a while, she informed me, with an expression of extreme distaste on her face, that she would not think of crossing on horseback.
“Then why not wait till later in the day, when the water has receded more?” I asked. That seemed to me like a reasonable idea.
She gave me a scathing look and answered contemptuously, “Would you have me wait until summer? That is when I would feel comfortable crossing this river on a horse.” Quickly I went back to my work. This was not a problem I could solve at that moment. Later, as I was busy with some loading, I heard my name called. I looked up to see Alyeeta seated in the bow of a boat like some grand lady. There were Kourmairi on either side of her, with many hands to hold her steady and keep her safe.
Soon the place was cleared of everything that could be carried. Nothing was left to signify the presence of an army, save for the still-smoldering fires. In the distance I could hear the shouts of the Kourmairi and sometimes the screams of the Shokarn. Somehow I was a part of this killing. I felt a sickness all through my body and leaned against the giant silverleaf for strength and comfort.
The others beckoned and called to me, urging me into a boat or onto a horse that was part of the crossing. Each time, I shook my head. Finally, I was the last one left. The morning mist had lifted and the sun was shining through. The river’s edge was deeply trampled and covered with the bodies of tiny black toads, some crushed, and some mating and dying in the sun, as was their way. As I picked one up and bent to examine it, I thought of the man, Lorren, putting a toad in his pocket. He had said our paths would cross again. Somehow I had no doubt of it. I wondered what his fate in Eezore would be if he succeeded in making his way home. When I heard more screams from in back of me, I shivered and retched. I might have just stayed there, leaning against the tree, if Rishka had not come back for me. “Come on, Tazzi, it is over and done. Time to come back to the other side now.”
“They are killing Shokarn soldiers, most of whom are naked and unarmed.”
Rishka shrugged. “That is not our affair. That is the risk of being a soldier. Besides, it would be now or later. How could they survive across all that Kourmairi territory without food or clothes or horses? And if, somehow, they did get back to Eezore, they would either be executed by the Zarn for their defeat or be issued new clothes and weapons to come after us again. They are not really men—they are only machines for killing.”
I looked back one last time at the shore. A single fire had leapt into flame from the breeze. After I kissed the rough bark of the silverleaf for luck, Rishka bound me against her with a strap. Together we stepped into the Escuro, holding tight to the ropes. The pull of the river was terrible. Brown water surged against me with a fury, sometimes splashing over my head and filling my mouth and nose. Fierce and deadly, it sucked at my spirit as well as my body, trying to tear me loose and carry me off. My palms were soon torn from holding the rope. At some moment it was ripped out of my hands. It was only Rishka’s strong grip that kept me from being swept away down the river. When we both stumbled up the bank on the other side, many hands reached out to help. I was staggering and spitting out water. When Rishka untied us, I fell flat on the sand.
When I was finally able to sit up again, I could see that the Kourmairi women were already dividing the spoils into stacks. Meanwhile, their men were lounging against logs, smoking jol, saying which armor they wanted, and making wagers on the outcome of the lot drawing. There were far more goods than were neede
d by the people of Darthill. Deals settled on that day would make their wealth through trade with other tribes or even with the city of Mishghall.
I surveyed the scene with disgust, feeling distant and apart from it. Were these Kourmairi quarreling over spoils really my people? What did I care for any of them, or for that matter, what did they care for me? I only wanted to be gone from there. When I saw Alyeeta talking with Nhokosos, I knew she would strike us a good bargain in grain and spring seeds. It would not be another hungry winter, of that I was sure, but where would we be come winter? Would we have found a home? Goddess knows, I was sick of fleeing for our lives from place to place, always finding ourselves once more where we were not wanted.
By now the sun had broken through in earnest. It was blazing over everything, with the flood retreating before it. The sky had turned to blue, and the remaining clouds were being drawn west like a curtain being pulled by a giant hand. On this side, too, the flood toads were hopping and mating and dying, but their trills were no longer so loud and shrill. Probably by the middle of the next day, the guards would have been able to ride across without having to swim their horses. It was hard to believe that less than a day had passed since we stood in the Kourmairi meeting house and listened to Ozzet speak.
From where I sat, I could see some of the Hadera Lossi gathered around a pile of goods. I knew we had no need to draw lots. We would simply talk of who needed what and distribute the goods accordingly. We might be quarrelsome in some ways, but we would never fight each other for possessions. Just as I stood up to join them, I felt the hair prickle along my back as if I had been called. Something drew me to look up. At the top of a far hill, on the other side of the Escuro, sat a lone figure on horseback, a dark outline against the bright blue of the sky. From some impulse, I raised my hand in salute. The figure did the same, then turned and was gone. No one else had seen this exchange. They were all too busy.