by C. L. Roman
***
The sun danced on the pools and bird song floated down from the tree branches overhead. Abram lifted his face to the cool breeze and heaved a contented sigh as he cast his line lazily, but accurately, into the deepest part of the pond. He relaxed back against a smooth stone, his back cushioned by an old cloak, and grinned. What could be better than his favorite breakfast followed by a morning spent in his favorite occupation? He hadn’t even minded bringing Dan along, since his brother seemed to be in an equally tranquil mood and had yet to utter a single complaint.
“Hey.” Dan sounded as lazy as he felt. “Hey, I just remembered.”
“What?” He didn’t really care what the younger boy had remembered, but he knew better than to try to ignore him. Dan never gave up once he’d thought of something. Maybe that was because it happened so seldom. Abram’s lips quirked up at the thought and he drew in his line for a second cast.
“The idols.”
“What about them?” Abram asked, and his habitual irritation with his brother gave a sluggish twitch under the weight of his contentment.
“We never went back like we planned. Do you think they’re still there?”
Abram settled his butt a little more comfortably into the sand beneath him and sighed. “I don’t know. What do we care? It’s not like anyone from the village is going to go looking for them.”
A note of worry crept into Dan’s voice. “We didn’t exactly hide them very well. I was hoping some trader would come along and take them, but there hasn’t been anyone through here since the wedding.”
“I repeat, who’s going to find them?”
“The women go out to gather grasses for sleeping mats sometimes. I mean, not usually. Usually they use dried marsh grass but sometimes—”
“Not from that area, idiot!” He could feel his back tensing up. Why did Dan always have to ruin everything? “Besides, they only gather plains grass when there isn’t any marsh grass available. They don’t like to go outside our borders. Too many raiders lately, Father says.” He tried to force his muscles to relax again so he could recapture his earlier mood. “Besides, even when they do go for plains grass, they go out the other way, to the east where the softer kind grows.”
Dan sat back again, satisfied. “Yeah, you’re right. The only thing on the north side of the forest is saw grass and black rock. Nobody needs that stuff. Hey! I got a bite!”
“Jerk him up boy!” Abram sat forward with mild enthusiasm. “Pull him in. We catch a few more and dinner will be a feast, provided by us. And won’t that just sour Magnus’ grapes? God in Heaven, what a perfect day.”
***
At the northern edge of the forest a young woman trailed slowly through the tall grass, her eyes fixed on the ground. Her blond hair was pulled back into long braid and at her waist hung a leather pouch, already half full of smooth black stones. Smoothed and polished to a high gloss, they would make a perfect contrast when set into the rim of the alabaster bowl Adahna was creating. It would feel good to be part of the business.
A glint of light flashed from an outcropping of rock ahead and to her left. Some of the larger caches of black rock had a dull gleam even before they were polished, but she had never seen them reflect the sun this strongly. The light flashed again and curiosity drove the woman’s feet almost without her volition.
As she approached she saw a red eye staring at her over the top of a sagging, dust laden litter. “What on Earth?” She pulled the litter away and stepped back as a sudden chill raced down her spine. Two golden faces grinned up at her, red eyes dancing with malice. She took another step back and the pouch bounced at her hip. Her hand reached automatically to stop its swaying.
These were supposed to have been destroyed. I’ll have to tell Father right away. The woman sighed heavily; Father will skin Abram and Dan for this. She bent down to push the litter back over the glittering figures.
How many vials and jars and bowls could all that gold decorate? The thought slithered through her mind, and she hesitated, considering. Then too, rubies of that size are rare. Cut down, who knows how much use one might get from them.
But Father commanded that they be destroyed. He must have had a good reason.
They will be destroyed. Pry out the gems. Melt down the gold. It would be a sin to waste such valuable materials.
We are commanded to be good stewards of what we are given. But… She shivered as the breeze blew cold against her bare arms.
You won’t have to trade for gold for months, maybe a turning or more. Think how pleased everyone will be. Besides it will save Abram and Dan from Father’s wrath.
Abram and Dan were disobedient. They deserve what they get. Still, they aren’t bad boys, not really, just lazy. Her lips tightened. But if anyone finds out where the gold came from – Fomor, especially, will be angry.
No one has to know. Just introduce it a little at a time.
They’ll notice. Volot knows exactly what we have stored.
Volot will understand. Say it was a gift – that isn’t even a lie. This could make everyone rich.
She looked around. It was almost as if there were someone there, whispering to her, trying to convince her. How would she melt the statues down? She hadn’t anything with her to put them in, nor to make a fire hot enough.
The caves in the hidden valley. Hide them there until a way can be found. No one need ever know.
She stepped forward and peered more closely at the statues. The eyes looked friendlier now, almost kind. It seemed wrong, somehow, to destroy such beauty, particularly if it could be used to create something even more beautiful.
And valuable…
She leaned forward and pushed the two idols back onto the litter. Picking up one end she started dragging it through the grass towards Nera’s valley. Funny how something that looks so heavy can be so light. Struck by a sudden apprehension, she glanced back once to make sure both the idols were still on the litter, but there they were, grinning at her. Satisfaction curled around her heart.
Abram and Dan really ought to thank me for saving their lazy hides from Father. Everyone ought to thank me. Lost in dreams of wealth and gratitude, Shahara grinned as she pulled the litter along, leaving not a trace of her passage in the soft earth behind her.
Chapter Fourteen
Danae sat silent, gazing at the beautiful tapestry Uncle Lamesh had thrown at her during the wedding feast a month before. With care and deliberation, she studied the intricate embroidery of each panel. The jewels and gold thread that comprised the workmanship were, alone, worth an entire turning’s harvest. The stitching must have taken weeks to complete, each panel showing a scene from the creation story. Someone had created this with devotion and great skill so that it seemed wrong to lock it away out of sight, and worse to destroy it.
Uncle Lamesh had meant no harm. Certainly Aunt Mara had intended the gift as a gesture of love. They had intended to honor both the newlyweds and their villages. Danae thought of the idols the cloth had covered and shivered, though the room was warm. It would be nice if good intentions were always wed to good sense. How could they have thought that such gifts would be accepted at all, let alone with the joy they seemed to think the things warranted?
Hearing Fomor’s step on the gravel path outside, she hurried the tapestry into a chest and turned to lay out the evening meal. Her husband entered and she smiled up at him. Fomor pressed his lips gently to hers and smiled back.
“Hello my love.”
“Hello. Here, sit and we will pray and eat. Then you can tell me of your day.”
The two reclined at their table and ate in companionable silence for a few moments. Danae thought again of the tapestry she had put away. It would not do to simply hide it away. We must talk about it. Perhaps he will not think it wrong to keep it, to use it. But he was so angry about the idols. It might be that he will feel the two were connected and if that is how he feels…
“My day,” Fomor began after easing his first hunger, “was
profitable. By the end of the week we should be ready with enough raw and finished alabaster for a journey. Sena has scouted the likeliest route so that we need only be gone a week or two, yet will still find the best trading locations. Your turn.” He winked at her and she blushed.
How was it this man never fails to make me feel as if he has just given me a gift, even when his hands are empty?
“Useful,” she finally replied. “But…” she hesitated. She had not realized how important this answer was to her.
“But what love?” Fomor was suddenly serious, having seen the concern in her eyes.
“I have a question.”
“Ask.”
“It is about Uncle Lamesh’s gift.”
Fomor’s eyebrows drew together and he held up a hand. “We have discussed this, Danae. Your father was right to order them destroyed. They are not Sabaoth, and never can be. To think otherwise—”
“Fomor! Of course Father was right. That isn’t what I’m talking about.”
Deflated, Fomor met Danae’s eyes once more, “Oh. Very well. But I don’t recall any other gift.”
Danae’s eyes widened and she hurried to bring out the tapestry. “This one. The tapestry. Aunt Mara had one made for each of us. Shahara’s and mine she placed over the idols to hide them until she brought them out to give to us.” She rolled her eyes, “I suppose she wanted to keep the surprise until the last moment. Aunt Mara has a flair for the dramatic.” With a small flourish, Danae unfolded the heavily embroidered cloth and held it up for him to see. “This is the gift I was talking about.”
It measured perhaps five by six cubits and was divided into four tablet shaped panels and four corner squares surrounding a circular medallion containing a triskel to represent the triune nature of God without depicting him physically. The triskel, as well as the panel and medallion borders, were of gold thread in an interlace pattern, studded with small, clear, triangle cut stones. The left side panel depicted the six days of creation, the construction of the heavens and the Earth, the making of the sun, moon and stars, the plants and animals and finally, of Adam and Eve.
“Adam was taller,” he remarked as he rose and moved closer. “But this,” he traced a careful finger across the hair of the female figure, “this is very like her. She loved Ahba so much. Who would have thought she would make such a terrible mistake?”
Danae was silent. Why be surprised? Yet, to think that he had been present in those first days – had known the father and mother of all the living was strange and almost painful.
He turned the fabric so that the right panel spread over his palms and studied the scenes and craftsmanship without further comment. In the first scene, Adam and Eve walked with a third figure while a serpent scuttled in the background, almost hidden by foliage. In the next, the first couple consented in the first sin and were cast out of the garden forever. The corner pieces were embroidered with intricately interwoven designs, circles within circles representing the never ending mercies of God and His eternal nature. All in all it was an intensely devout piece of art. So much so that Fomor was amazed that it had ever been put to such a profane use.
“To say this is beautiful is to do it an injustice. It is a masterwork. I do not know who created it, but their love of Ahba shows in every stitch.”
“You do not think we should destroy it then?”
Fomor’s head jerked up, “Destroy it? Why on Earth would we do that?”
“Well,” Danae fumbled, “because it covered an idol, because Uncle Lamesh and Aunt Mara obviously worship idols, because…”
Fomor lifted a gentle hand to her cheek. “Those statues have no power to sanctify or defile. In truth, they have no power at all, but what we give them. The problem is not with the idols themselves so much as with what their presence leads men to believe. That God can be contained within things of wood or stone or precious metal, carved and shaped by man into an image that pleases him.” He studied his wife a moment before going on.
“The danger of idols is that they give man the illusion that he can control God, force the Creator into a shape that will serve the creation. It is one of the great lies, my love, and we cannot tolerate it in any form.”
He paused again and Danae looked up at him and nodded her understanding.
“But this tapestry?” she asked.
“This tapestry does not pretend to be or do anything but glorify Sabaoth. There is no sin in that.” He placed the cloth back into her hands. “Where would you like to hang it?”
The following morning the two were enjoying breakfast when a light tap sounded at the door. Sena stepped inside at Fomor’s greeting.
“Forgive the interruption Captain.” Sena kept her eyes trained on the ground as she continued, “but there has been a messenger from another village and Nephel is asking for you, Volot, Jotun and Gant to come as quickly as possible.”
Fomor did not hesitate. “I will go. Have the others been told?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well.” He studied his lieutenant a moment in silence. “Is there anything else?”
“No, sir. The others will meet you at the trail head.” Again the silence stretched out and Sena had yet to raise her eyes and look him in the face.
Fomor raised an eyebrow and would have spoken but Danae laid a soft hand on his arm.
“No doubt it is some boring trading question. Go ahead my dear, I will have our meal ready when you return. Sena, would you like to see the new designs I’ve been working on for our own shower room?”
Sena’s head lifted and Fomor was shocked at the misery in her eyes. “Shower room?”
Moving deftly between the other two, Danae linked her arm with Sena’s and drew her further into the house. She met Fomor’s worried gaze and glanced pointedly at the door. Needing no further urging, he slipped out, closing the door behind him.
“Oh yes, my mother invented them and they are so convenient. It’s like your own private waterfall for bathing. Of course, my mother was able to divert water from an existing stream to feed hers and we are not so fortunately situated, but Fomor has been helping me and…”
“Forgive me, Danae,” Sena interrupted in a choked voice. Her eyes were hot with unshed tears as she tried to find a polite exit line. “I’m afraid I am not very good company at the moment. I should go.”
“You are my sister Sena,” Danae took the other woman’s hands in hers and led her to a cushion near the brazier. “I can see that your heart is heavy. Won’t you tell me what is hurting you? Maybe I can help.”
Sena dropped her face into her hands behind a curtain of straight black hair. “No one can help,” she sobbed.
Danae put her arms around her sister-in-law and rocked gently, saying nothing until the storm had passed. “It is said that sorrow’s burden is halved with the sharing,” she said.
Sena lifted her head and pushed her hair back with damp hands. Danae handed her a clean rag to wipe her eyes and waited.
“It is Gant,” she rasped. “He wants to marry me.”
“Well, this is a terrible thing.” Danae’s brow rose in gentle irony.
“You don’t understand – he wants a home, a family.”
“And you don’t?”
Sena rolled her eyes. “Of course I do.”
“But not with him?”
“Oh yes, above all things I would love to marry Gant and build a family with him.”
At a loss, Danae clasped her friend’s hands in her own. “Perhaps you should start over because I don’t see a problem here.”
Hunched into a ball, arms wrapped around legs, chin on knees, Sena began. “Angels do not marry – no I know,” she held up her hand when Danae would have protested. “But the situation is different. Angels do not marry each other. It has never been done. I never even considered the possibility until…” her voice trailed off and she flashed a weak smile.
“Until you saw Fomor and the rest marry us,” Danae finished for her.
Sena nodded miserabl
y. “And I see how happy you are together – the way you laugh and the way you,” she blushed, “touch. And I see how it could be for us.”
“I see.” Danae studied the other woman for a moment and then stood up. “I think we should have some tea.”
“Tea?” Sena asked blankly.
“Oh yes.” Danae smiled as she helped Sena to her feet. “It seems we have a wedding to plan.”
“Wedding? Have you heard nothing I’ve said? We can’t—”
“Who says? You said it had never been done, not that it was forbidden. Has Gant talked with Fomor about this? You love each other, right? How can love be forbidden?”
The barrage of questions backed Sena up to the wall and she put a hand to Danae’s shoulder as if to stop the onslaught.
“I cannot give him children.”
The words dropped into a sudden silence and the two stared at each other.
“Does he know this?”
“He knows.” The deep masculine tones were steeped in sadness, and the voice came from the doorway. The two women whipped around in surprise as Gant walked into the room and continued, “And it doesn’t matter. I love you, Sena, not what you can give me.”
“And when you see their children playing, growing up, will you feel the same?” Sena said indicating Danae.
Gant shook his head, “Sena, I never thought to be a husband, let alone a father. It is not what I was made for. But I have loved you for a thousand years and I will love you for thousand more, and another thousand after that. What other blessing do I need?”
Neither noticed when Danae slipped from the room. She busied herself heating water for tea and arranging a tray with fruit and cheese. A light meal will be best, she thought, the argument in the next room is heavy enough to inhibit anyone’s digestion. Of course, she had nothing with which to stop her ears and sound did travel well in such a small house. She refused to feel guilty for eavesdropping; after all, they had started the conversation with her in the room. It wasn’t her fault they had forgotten she was there.