by Diana Rivers
Of course, Pell did no such thing, though I think she did put on a little flesh, a little roundness over her hard frame. Her face even lost some of its tightness, and she no longer moved with that terrible driven haste. Instead, she worked at everything there was to do, building or gathering or clearing, in a steady, easy way, seeing what was needed and moving herself there.
* * *
For all that first year, I felt as if I never had enough rest or sleep or time. There was always one more thing to do. Somehow the work was forever beyond me. Half the time I was filled with despair at the enormity of what we had undertaken, and the rest of the time I was drunk with a fierce, mad joy for what we were attempting. We were doing it! We were really doing it! We were building our own city! My heart would be filled with excitement. Then, just as quickly, my mood would change. There was no way we could do it fast enough: find enough food, enough shelter, enough horses, enough of everything that was needed for all those pouring in. Some of the Kourmairi women from other settlements even sent us their girl-children when they could not free themselves. At that, I would have drawn the line. How were we to care for children, children who were not even Hadra and who never could be, when we could hardly care for ourselves? But Zheran came forward, saying, “How can you think to turn them away? They are your future. How do you even know if you will have any children of your own?”
I did not have the strength to argue. “Do what you want then, as long as their care is not on my head and they are not in the way.”
Zheran had returned from her visit with Norn’s people with two little girls to care for. She quickly took charge and organized all the children into a small school that met each morning. Others helped her with the schooling, but much to my surprise, Alyeeta was the first to offer. Together with Ozzet and Olna, they taught and guided the children and found useful tasks for them. And so, in spite of me, these children of strangers became our daughters. Later, I was to be very glad for their presence among us, but at that moment they only seemed like an added burden.
No matter how much there was to do, I tried to find some time each evening to climb to the top of Third Hill. Kara and I would sometimes sit there together, looking out at the view and planning the Zildorn that was to be built at the crest. The word Zildorn had come from the Witches: a combination of library, archive, holy place, and healing place; a House-of-the-Mother and much else, besides. This building would be the core and heart of Zelindar, built of the white stone that was native there. Kara talked of archways and sculptures and fountains. She drew pictures of her visions in the dirt and sometimes on paper.
Often Zheran accompanied me on those evening walks. She was always a calming influence. I found myself sharing the troubles of the day with her in a way I could not do with the other Hadra. Sometimes her two little foster daughters would come with us. Zheran would carry Ishnu in her arms. I would put Ursa on my shoulders while she squealed and screamed with delight. Once safely up there, she would clamp her fingers in my “mane” and pretend I was a wild horse to be ridden up the hill.
* * *
Some of the new Hadra were easy and useful. They found their places among us from the moment they rode in and set down their packs. Others—especially the Shokarn from the cities—were nothing but trouble, much as Nunyair had been. They were accustomed to slaves and servants and thought to find that sort of service among us. Our hard lives did not really suit their pampered tastes—or so they told us so often enough. Some even hoped to resume their old ways now that the danger was over. Of course, among us, there were neither slaves nor servants, not for any price. The only service was what we gave each other, turn and turnabout.
Pell had a sort of patient amusement for everyone, even the Shokarn. She undertook their teaching with rough kindness, but I found their arrogance offensive. I even thought they should be grateful to us. When they tried to hold on to their goods and not put in their share, I would send Kazouri and Katchia after them. There was something about Kazouri’s great size that was persuasive, even when she had a smile on her face. When she scowled and her voice roared out like thunder, coins and jewels fell to the ground like rain. She did not have to do that often. Katchia, at her side, would gather up all the treasure. She kept a scrupulous record of everything they collected, though it all went out again, soon enough, for tools and food.
After all the hatred we had endured, perhaps the greatest need among us was for love. If so, I myself could not see it then. During those hectic days, I felt I had no space for love, not for myself nor for others. I, who had once had too many lovers, now resigned myself to none. I accepted that I was to have an empty bed for as long as I was councilor. As to the love others needed, someone else had to supply that. I had none to spare. I was too busy giving orders and directing work. Tamara seemed to take charge of that part of our lives, along with Olna, Cruzia, and Kilghari; greeting the new ones kindly and helping them find their place among us. Indeed, Tama, who had seemed so shy and stood always in Pell’s shadow, now became a leader on her own. When she saw me being too rushed for kindness, she would argue forcefully with me, saying, “Without love, Tazzi, none of the rest of this matters. It has no heart.”
I was too busy building a city to shelter us all to worry about love. Later, of course, I understood she was right, for what is a city if not its people? People bound by love can make a city wherever they settle. Empty buildings do not make a city. That is what the Kourmairi forgot when they fought with each other over this piece of land. But, of course, I was right too, for without a city to shelter our lives, we could never be the people we needed to become. In the long run, of course, love found its own way to catch up with me, but I will speak of that later.
* * *
With bright banners flying, Murghanth and Teko and most of their band of Sheezerti rode into the settlement one cool morning at the edge of winter, playing instruments and performing wild tricks on horseback. All work came to an instant halt. Laughing and clapping, everyone rushed to watch. I had forgotten how much joy the Sheezerti brought with them or how much such joy was needed. At the end, Teko stood up on her horse and declared, “A city that is already built can never really be ours. We prefer to live in a city where we can have some say in the building of it. Besides, the Kourmairi are not much better than the Shokarn when it comes to dealing with free women.” That was followed by loud cheers. Then the Sheezerti dismounted and were soon swallowed in a mass of women eager to question them.
I had gone back to my work, drawing plans for the Zildorn. Soon I became so absorbed that I forgot the Sheezerti altogether. Suddenly I sensed a presence. Glancing up, I saw Murghanth standing in front of me with her feet wide apart and her arms crossed, looking me up and down. Her dark arms and legs were just as stick thin as they had ever been, and the look from her black eyes was full of challenge. “So, I hear they have made you ‘chief’ here. Is that true?”
It had already been a hard morning. I had no patience for one of Murghanth’s dramas. “Do you have some problem with that?” I asked sharply. I was about to add, If so, you can go back to the Kourmairi of Mishghall, when she burst out laughing in that wild way she had.
“None at all, Tazzil. I say it is about time you took charge. I can think of no better chief, and Pell was near worn-out with carrying the weight of it. I am ready to take my place here and do whatever you say, whether it is amusing women or feeding them or lifting rocks to make shelter.” Then she hit me lightly on the arm, saying, “Good for you, girl. You found your spot by the sea—and a very beautiful spot, I might add—and got us here safely. Now put me to work.”
That night we cleared a big space, and the Sheezerti put on a wonderful new show, with all the women of the settlement clapping and cheering and stamping out the rhythm. Lhiri had ridden in with them. She was very excited to see what a fine place we had found. Though she was prepared to stay, she told me sadly that Nunyair had gone back to Mishghall for the fall and winter. “Building a city in the wildern
ess is nothing she wants to do. Perhaps she will come later.” I had to bite my tongue not to say, Let her stay where she is. We already have more than enough trouble here.
“We’ve separated, at least for now,” Lhiri went on, her voice laden with grief. “When I am with her, I go back to being the Kourmairi slave and she to being the Shokarn mistress. It keeps on happening, no matter how we fight it.”
I put my arm around her shoulder. “You are better off here with us. Besides, we need you.” I was sad for her sadness and so did not say aloud, You are much better off without that woman, though I am sure she must have heard it in my mind.
She nodded and rested her head against my shoulder. “It feels as if I have come home at last. Eezore was never my city, nor could the Shokarn ever be my people. I only wish Askarth were here. I wish my mother could have seen all this. She deserved to grow old here with us in this place. Oh, Tazzi, she made my freedom possible with her life. If only she had not turned back…” Suddenly, Lhiri was sobbing out her grief for Askarth in my arms and I was holding her, murmuring what comfort I could against her ear. It was the most kindness I had shown to anyone since coming to Zelindar.
* * *
Gradually things began to sort themselves out. Part of the meeting house ruin was getting rocked and roofed as shelter for that first winter, and women were also making little shelters from the remnants of old ones. Kara and Vestri found deposits of clay and set up a pottery by the river, working with other potters and even apprenticing women who were not potter-born, something that had never been done before. Ozzet became our seed-gatherer. With Cruzia for company, she went to Kourmairi settlements up and down the coast to talk to farmers, learn about new plants, and gather seeds. Some of us were clearing fields; planting and harvesting crops. Kazouri began making a boat, with the help of two of the Wanderers and several of the new Hadra. Using wool and flax bartered from the Koormir, a few of the Kourmairi women started to weave cloth in a corner of the meeting house, and soon a few Hadra joined them.
Many of us bunked in the half-finished meeting house. For me it seemed an easy thing to do. I had become like a soldier, accustomed to the barracks. For Alyeeta, it was an affront. “Do you really expect me to live among cattle in a cattle pen? Many of those girls do not care. As long as they have a roof over their heads they are satisfied, scratching bugs, snoring, and belching all night. Dirt-children, they know no better. They probably grew up in barns.”
I felt as if Alyeeta were deliberately trying to insult me. “Alyeeta, I know you need your own place. I am doing as much as I can…”
“Well, something more will have to be done. When I was mistress of the Witch convent I had my own chambers, separate from the students, as big and fine as any house. At least I could have a little hut of my own here. If that is not possible, then I must leave and go someplace where there is room for me.”
“Alyeeta, I promise…”
“Make me no promises, girl. You are riding a hundred different horses at once in a hundred different directions. My little shelter is not at the top of your list, or anyone else’s, for that matter.”
“Alyeeta, please listen. As soon as I am able I will…” I was speaking to her disappearing back. The words, “…will have to find my own…” floated back to me.
For a short while, I tried desperately to find something suitable for her. And then, I have to admit, just as Alyeeta said, I was off again on my many horses and forgot her need for shelter. In the end, true to her word, Alyeeta found her own, something useful and unexpected, a fair-sized cave chamber in the side of Second Hill, that had little side chambers attached. It even had a small seep-spring at the back corner, like the one in Pell’s overhang shelter in the Twisted Forest. The cave entrance was completely hidden by shrubs, so it was only the trickle from the spring that had signaled its location. I think it was Olna who actually found the cave, but Alyeeta did not hesitate to lay claim to it. She was soon removing debris and sweeping it out. When she showed it to me, she was as excited as a child. “It is like a real house, with its own inside water system, a main central room full of light, and little sleeping chambers in semidarkness. We will rock up the lower part of the front, get glass for the rest, then dig out and rock a pool inside, to catch the spring water for bathing. There will always be a crock of good water on that rock shelf below the mouth of the spring. And then there is the view. From here I can look out and see the bay and the river.”
I cautioned her about cold and dampness, but she shook her broom threateningly at me. “How dare you say one word against it. This is so much better than those little rock heaps you call huts. This was made by the hand of the Goddess Herself, and with only a little help from us, it will be the finest dwelling in Zelindar.”
Alyeeta was right about her shelter being the finest. Rugs appeared, and then cushions and mats, oil lamps, some little tables, some old trunks for her books. Tapestries, a little worn but nonetheless bright and warm, were soon hanging against the stone walls or being used for privacy at the entrance to the sleep chambers. It turned out that Telakeet and Olna intended to share the “Witch cave” with Alyeeta, at least for that first winter.
I wondered where all these goods were coming from. Did Alyeeta have a hidden stash of treasures somewhere from which the Wanderers were gradually bringing her things each time they came through? Or did she have some direct connection to the Thieves Guild, so that houses in Eezore were being emptied to furnish Alyeeta’s cave? “And what if they were,” she said sharply when I questioned her. “After all I have lost at their hands, they owe me something in return.” I saw I was going to get no answers and decided it was none of my business, so long as she did not bring the Zarn’s hounds down on our heads. She found her own “girls” to help rock the lower part of the front. Then, one day, Hereschell himself showed up in a Wanderer wagon with several windows carefully bedded in straw. It was not till much later that I remembered Alyeeta’s little stash of coins.
Alyeeta had her house—and with no help from me. At her invitation, I went there one evening for dinner. Ozzet was singing and playing the ferl and Kara was playing the flute. I was urged to bathe in the pool. Olna put in hot rocks from the fire pit. With a groan of pleasure, I lowered my aching body into the pool and lay back in the steaming water. Later, Olna set a table next to me. She brought a bowl of steaming tarmar and a glass of well-fermented parmi-juice. I ate and drank and drowsed and listened to music, feeling as pampered as a lady in a Great-House. Suddenly Alyeeta was shaking my shoulder. I had fallen asleep in the cooling water. “I see your manners have not improved with age, Tazzia,” she said, grinning down at me.
* * *
With no thought about it, I had gone back to my old habits of sleeping wherever I could find a space when the day ended. Pell tried to talk to me about the terrible stress I was living with, and so did Tama and Olna. I was too busy to listen. I had no time for taking advice, only for giving it. Finally, it was Zheran who rescued me from myself. She had been rebuilding a small hut for herself, as well as for Ishnu and Ursa, her two foster daughters who had been orphaned in the fighting. They were the children of her cousin’s dead friend. Her cousin had been taking care of them, but with no man to help and a new home to be built, she had been overwhelmed by the care of her own children, so Zheran had brought the girls back to our settlement.
“These are my children now, since I have lost my boys and they have lost their mother,” Zheran told me proudly, putting a protective arm around each of them. She had enlisted Vestri and Murghanth to help raise the stones and fit the window frames. Pleased with her new home and very proud of it, she brought me to see their progress just before the roof went on. “You could share this little shelter with us and have a place to come back to at the end of the day. It would be far better for you than sleeping wherever you can find the room to lay your body down. It is not much to offer, but it is all I have that is really mine.”
I shook my head. “What right do I have to t
his shelter, Zheran? I had no hand in building it.”
“Then help me with fitting the poles for the roof and you will have done your part.” As Zheran was speaking, the two girls were watching me with large soulful eyes from behind the shelter of her skirt, not sure, after all they had seen in the world, if they should trust me to share their home.
I knew Zheran could easily have found someone else to help with the roof, but somehow I found myself doing as she asked. After that, it seemed easier to have one steady place for my sleep roll than to wander about each night. I moved in with what little I owned, and Zheran began cooking meals for me as well as for the girls. It was nice sometimes to be in the quiet of that little place rather than eating at the noisy campfire. When I tried to thank her, she hushed me. “It is no great thing, Tazzil. I have to cook and make a place for us, anyhow. What is one more? It is no trouble to make a home for you as well, and it warms my heart to see you cared for.” So, over my protests and in spite of my pretense that it was not happening, Zheran gradually made a home for me, a place I could come back to when I was weary. But I never really acknowledged that I lived there. And I made it very clear that I would not be a mother to her girls.
After a while, Zheran became my right hand in this settlement that was on its way to becoming the city of Zelindar. She would listen carefully to all my plans and make suggestions. She also made sure I ate and slept and had clothes on my back while my head was filled with visions of the future. I would start a new project, rushing about with all that wild, fierce energy, and she would follow after me, picking up the pieces, seeing that all was accounted for and finished properly.