Sarella stared at Kara, but Ilara, staring at Kestra, ignored her and asked, “How is this possible?”
“The mind can break, just like any other part of the body,” Alessa answered sadly.
“Yes, but she’s home now! She’s safe! She doesn’t have to…” Ilara shook her head, looking slightly ill. “Why is she here, and not in our temple of healing?”
“Would you have me drag her there by force?” Alessa demanded. “She has no memory of who she was. She has even forgotten our language! When I chose to stay with the Aahk, rather than returning with Kalie and the others, I worked with her, tried to heal her.” Alessa took a deep calming breath and grew still. “You can see how successful I’ve been,” she added bitterly.
Now Kalie put an arm around Alessa. “And that wasn’t your fault, either.”
“Stop this!” cried Kara. “Hers was a great love story! The kind the poets sing songs about. Why do you try to make it something ugly?”
Suddenly, Sarella began to laugh.
“What is it?” Tilka asked.
“A moment ago, when you spoke of having to learn new ways; all the changes being forced on you, I felt little sympathy. After all, I knew those changes were for your own good; that someday, you would thank us. I now see that there are changes ahead for both of our peoples. And I will admit I myself am more than a little frightened by them.”
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, timidly, a nomad woman spoke up. “I would like to learn how you make these garments that you wear, for they seem much finer than felt. If we must abandon the ways of our ancestors, I would like to do so in comfort.” There was nervous laughter.
“I would like to learn of your ways of healing,” Tilka said to Ilara.
“I would be happy to teach you,” replied the priestess.
“And I would like to know what seasonings you put in this stew,” Sarella said. “I have eaten many early spring stews, but none like this. Did you bring these herbs with you from the steppes?”
“Yes,” said a woman, probably the oldest of the group. “But there’s only one herb in there that came not from this place. In my land it is called horsemint. I have not yet had time to search for it here.”
Kalie sat back as she finished her stew, and smiled.
Chapter 22
For the next few days, the two groups settled into a guarded truce, as each side learned what would be required of it in the moonspans to come. Kalie heard regular reports, and felt relief each day that blood was not spilled, but was too busy preparing for Varena’s joining with Noris to get too involved—for which everyone was grateful.
Kalie sat in her house with Brenia, while their children played outside. They were making final adjustments to the richly decorated linen dress Varena would wear, and discussing items they would each contribute to the feast, when Varena rushed in. She was crying, and so disheveled that Kalie’s first thought was that she had been attacked by one of the newly arrived warriors.
“Varena!” Kalie leaped to her feet, spilling the lovely, pale green garment to the floor. Brenia, still as a statue, looked on.
“Oh, Mother!” Varena threw herself into Kalie’s arms, and spoke in the tongue of the horsemen. “Noris and I just had a terrible fight! I don’t think there’s going to be a wedding!”
“What happened?” Kalie asked, holding Varena and patting her back as she sobbed. Brenia, now that she knew the cause of the problem, went to the shelf where dishes and spirits were kept and poured everyone a cup of wine, then gently led the pair to the table. When Varena was ready to disentangle herself, all three of them sat on the benches and took a cup.
“Noris told me yesterday that he wanted to leave as soon as we were joined.”
“Leave?” Kalie was confused. “But your farm…”
“He says there’s no point in putting work into something that’s just going to be burned to the ground when the horde reaches us. He says there are other farms, farther away, and we should move there. Or just find a safe place to wait out the war, and come back when it’s over.”
Kalie and Brenia exchanged a look.
“And what did you say to that?” Kalie asked.
“I said we couldn’t just leave when our home was in danger. I told him I’d searched for this place all my life, and I wouldn’t run away and let my friends die, and that we both needed to stand and fight. Noris said he’d never take a man’s life, and he couldn’t believe I would either. Then I called him a coward and, well, after that…” Varena began to cry again.
“Varena,” said Brenia. “Noris is no coward. He wants to protect you. And I’ll wager it’s more than just you he wants to take with him.”
Varena dried her eyes on the sleeve of her dress. “Well, he has been asking all his family and friends to leave, too. But that’s just worse! We need everyone we have to fight when those bastards come here!”
“Varena, Noris wasn’t raised to be a warrior, or even understand the idea of war,” Kalie said. “If he doesn’t want to change all that, it doesn’t mean he loves you any less. And Brenia is right. His first thought was to protect you. That sounds to me like a good quality in a man.”
“But this is his home! The only place he’s ever known. How can he just abandon it and everyone in it? I’ve only been here a year or so, and I plan to fight!”
Kalie had known that, but hearing it sent a shiver of fear through her. She pushed the feeling away. “Maybe you two just need to talk when you’ve both had a chance to calm down.
“The joining is tomorrow,” Varena reminded her glumly. “And the Spring Festival.”
“You wouldn’t be the first couple to wonder if the whole thing was a mistake the day before,” said Kalie.
“It could just be nerves,” said Brenia. “I was so nervous the day before my wedding…” She stopped. “Forget it. Wrong situation.”
Riyik, who had come in about halfway through the discussion, spoke up. “Maybe I should speak with Noris.”
Kalie was about to tell him that the parents should probably stay out of it, but then saw the closest thing to a smile creep onto Varena’s face.
“You’d have to promise not to take any weapons, Father,” she said.
Riyik sighed. “Oh, if you insist.” At that, Varena’s smile grew almost full sized. “And Noris might not be wrong. Many will be going to safety—as much as there will be such a thing when the fight comes. And you, Daughter, will not be fighting at all, unless you practice more. You have a strong will, and you’re good with a bow, but you must admit, drilling has not been your main concern since we arrived here.”
Varena looked surprised, but had to concede the truth of Riyik’s words. She finished her wine and began to pace around the room.
“Varena,” said Riyik, “let’s you and I take a walk. You’ll drive your mother and aunt crazy if you stay here now. Yourself as well.”
Kalie smiled as they left. She hoped that the relationship could be repaired; that there would be happiness and hope to remember in the dark days ahead. But once again, even without anyone saying anything, it all seemed to come back to Kalie and her actions.
“If I hadn’t brought everyone here, Noris would be looking forward to a normal joining tomorrow,” she sighed.
“If you hadn’t brought us here, he wouldn’t be marrying Varena,” said Brenia. “And the horde would still be coming.”
Kalie looked at her friend. “How are you doing, Brenia? With Hysaak’s death, and all those people from your past?”
“I’m fine. I’ve avoided the nomad camp, but eventually I’m sure I’ll run into someone who will call me names, but that won’t matter. Riyik has made sure all the warriors in town are looking after me. The women will only talk, but all of Hysaak’s friends and spear brothers will consider it their duty to kill me as an adulteress.”
“Doesn’t that concern you?”
“It would if Hysaak had any friends, or anyone to call him brother. Kariik has promised me pr
otection. And strange as this may sound, I trust him.”
“It does sound strange, but I’m beginning to as well. I just don’t like danger hanging over those I love. Especially stupid danger! It’s bad enough we have to worry about invading hordes, but this…this goat-dung! Men who think it’s any of their business who a woman sleeps with, or that there’s some kind of honor in killing her over it!” Kalie sighed. “Yet here you are, calm as ever.”
“One of the benefits of my homeland: we don’t worry about what we cannot change.” Then Brenia grinned, and showed Kalie a copper dagger with a blade as wickedly sharp as Brenia’s grin. “Janak gave it to me. One of the benefits of your homeland: I’m not so helpless now as I once was.”
“I’m glad to know it. But don’t let yourself be alone for a time, all right?”
Brenia’s smile softened into something truly beautiful. “I’m never alone here. And I didn’t realize until Hysaak died, just how alone I was, all those years I lived with him.”
They packed away the wedding finery until a final decision could be made, and then gathered up their children. Kalie insisted on escorting Brenia to her home, despite Brenia’s protests that it was only a short distance. Then Kalie had to stay and share a late afternoon meal, since the house was filled with Martel’s relatives from outlying farms, who had arrived for the Spring Festival. When Kalie finally insisted on leaving, pleased that Brenia was in good hands, Yarik wanted to stay, and even Melora, who was now crawling, seemed happy to investigate all these interesting new people, and the things they had brought with them to play with.
“Go ahead,” called Martel’s sister, who had three children of her own, including a baby about Melora’s age. “My babes are thrilled to finally have playmates, and I can nurse Melora if she needs it.” Brenia and Martel both nodded.
“Thank you,” said Kalie. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, and given recent events, I can’t promise their father or sister will come for them.” But she knew that was all right with everyone here.
While there was plenty of work to be done, preparing for the Spring Festival, Kalie realized that what she really needed was to be alone for a time. She walked beyond the town, to one of the rocky outcrops with a breathtaking view of the sea. For a long time, Kalie just sat and stared, breathing the fresh sweet air of spring, letting her mind drift, but not arriving at any answers to any of the problems pressing in on her.
Then she stood and walked to Ruleen’s house. The place was large, and at one time had been filled with a big extended family. Now there was only Ruleen, her brother—widowed as she was—and her adolescent nephew. The men were out, but Ruleen greeted Kalie politely.
“I came to…” Suddenly Kalie wasn’t sure why she had come.
“Come in and sit down,” Ruleen said. She led Kalie to a warm and comfortable room, where a fire burned cheerily in the hearth. The room was filled with deceptively simple wooden furniture covered with cushions of brightly dyed cloth. Many fine works of ceramic filled the shelves. The Goddess in all her forms adorned an altar by the hearth.
“Who works the clay?” Kalie asked.
“My mother did, long ago.” Kalie noticed that many of the pieces were very old, but well cared for. “Then my brother, although not so much lately. His hands and back grow stiff.” Kalie automatically began to think of remedies she would bring over, while Ruleen made tea.
“My mother was a potter as well,” Kalie said. “And I was too, for a time.”
They sipped honeyed chamomile tea in silence until Kalie was ready to speak again. “When will you and your party leave Stonebridge?” she asked.
“Summer, most likely. We are still waiting to fully understand our mission.”
“But the horde will be here by then! Perhaps even sooner.”
“We know. We all heard what has been said since the strangers arrived.”
“I thought your purpose was to be gone before any of the fighting you disapprove of began,” said Kalie.
Ruleen stared at Kalie in surprise, her cup halfway to her lips. She set it down carefully. “We certainly disapprove of fighting, but we would not abandon our own families in a time of crisis. We will be here, to care for the wounded, organize supplies, carry messages—well perhaps those who are younger than I will do that last one. But we will not leave until matters are resolved. And if things go badly for the people of the Goddess, we must try to get as many children away as possible.”
Kalie felt her respect for this woman grow. “Do you know yet where you will go?” she asked.
Ruleen shook her head. “Ilara has been seeking visions in the temple. My brother, too, is one the Goddess sometimes touches with such insight. I assume we will travel west at the start. Perhaps there is a hidden sanctuary on some other shore of the Black Waters. The answers will come in time.”
They were silent for a time, and then Kalie blurted, “Do you blame me for all of this?”
Ruleen laughed bitterly. “You mean like that ill-mannered child, Otera? The one who thinks the Goddess speaks to her and no one else?”
“Or perhaps she thinks she alone speaks for the Goddess?” Kalie was quite suddenly relieved.
“You and I might disagree,” said Ruleen, “but I hope never to become so convinced of my own righteousness that I forget to respect the opinions of others. And blaming you for the arrival of the horsemen would make as much sense as blaming my deceased mother for bad weather. The horsemen would have come regardless. We just disagree on what to do about them.”
“Then perhaps we are both right.”
“That well may be. I have spent some time with the nomad women, and I am grateful that I had the chance.”
Kalie’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “What has that experience been like?”
“Very illuminating,” said Ruleen. “They are almost like another species, but one where greater communication is possible, than with say, a dog or a bird. Some have been kind, some appreciative, some angry at what has become of them. I find I am not sorry they are here. Their warriors mean hope for our physical survival. Our numbers mean hope for better lives for them and their children. Especially the…what is the word? When a person is owned like property?”
“Slaves.”
“Yes.” Ruleen stared into her tea, as if seeking answers there. “It helps me understand why this battle you have been preparing us for is necessary.”
“Yet, whatever the outcome, you still intend to leave this land forever?”
Ruleen gazed at Kalie across the shadowy room, now lit only by firelight, as the light outside the window faded. “Someone must remember,” she said, sounding for a moment like the Goddess Herself. “Whether we win or lose this war, the people of the Goddess will never be the same. I hope we win, but I cannot ask the Goddess for something that will mean suffering and death for so many. So I and those who share my beliefs will take the wisdom and memories of who we once were, and find a way to keep them alive. Or perhaps hide it for those who come long after we are gone, to someday find again.”
“What changes do you foresee, Lady?” Kalie whispered, not sure she wanted to know.
“I believe that in some parts of our world, our ways will be lost completely. In this place, where two cultures have already come together, I foresee a blending; a merging of two very different ways of life.”
“That could be a good thing,” said Kalie. “Already, Kariik has declared an end to slavery. And when the women of Aahk taste real freedom; discover the feeling that being listened to and respected brings…”
“Yes, those things may well happen. More for their daughters, I think, than those here now. But do you really believe that change shall work only one way? The ways of Goddess will change as well. Perhaps not completely. Women will not easily give up their freedom, any more than men will forget kindness and compassion. But these men from the east bring many gods with them. How will our one Goddess—even in three forms—stand up to so many? When the faiths begin to merge, what will She be
come? The wife of their sky god? A distant mother-figure to be remembered only at planting and harvest time? Perhaps just an ancient spirit women call upon in childbirth.
“And what about travel and trade? In a world of dangerous men, will not everyone eventually agree that it makes more sense for only men to be the traders and messengers? When women travel, it will have to be in large groups, with warriors to protect them. They will not wear veils or live their lives in tents, but, eventually, it will simply make more sense for women to stay close to home; concern themselves with the hearth and the children.”
Kalie thought of many things she could say: women could still choose to become warriors and travel as they pleased or that staying close to home meant a greater voice in how the village or town was governed. Yet she knew Ruleen had already thought of all that, and it would bring her little comfort. What mattered to Ruleen was the change about to overtake her world. And no matter how many of the old ways survived, the purity and the certainly of over a hundred generations would be lost. Unless…
“So you think to find a place and, what? Bury things that will tell people who live in a future time beyond imagining what we knew and how we lived? What things? And how will they speak?”
Ruleen’s gaze swept the contents of her home: goddess statues, colorful cloth, everyday objects of great beauty, made with great care. “The Goddess may speak through many things, to those of our descendants who will listen. And perhaps there will be more than only lifeless artifacts. Perhaps there will be children who can be raised to know the old ways, and teach them in secret to their own children. Whatever the path turns out to be, the ancient wisdom will not be lost.”
Chapter 23
Kalie stayed late talking with Ruleen. She arrived home late in a mist-shrouded night, and found everyone already asleep. Melora awoke briefly, and Kalie nursed her and put her back to bed. Then, she too, slept.
Awaking late in the morning of the Spring Festival, Kalie discovered Riyik gone, and Yarik, wearing only a shirt, sitting on the floor, staring intently at Melora, whose hands and face were covered with the gruel Riyik had apparently fed her, as she sucked contentedly on a mutton bone.
Keepers of the Ancient Wisdom (Kalie's Journey Book 3) Page 18