by Ada Haynes
While Shona tried to think of something to say that was not too inimical, her cousin was replaced by another familiar figure.
Ekbeth presented her with a flower. “Welcome back to the Valley, Kimiel Keh Niriel.”
She accepted the present with a warmer smile than the ones she had offered her own family.
Then she turned to the next As’mir, another Akeneires’el, she understood, from his rigid posture.
There was a huge crowd. And they all wanted to congratulate her.
This was going to take forever.
She put a brave smile on her face.
22
Ekbeth was enjoying in his own way the party given in honor of the new Oyyad.
As soon as he had been able to, he had left the temple and the celebrations and found refuge in his study, approving or rejecting purchasing requests from the community. He had not expected to find so many of them, though.
Administration was something the As’mirin had developed to an art, reflected Ekbeth.
That the huge pile of paper in front of him was due to his own stubbornness was something of which he was well aware. He allowed himself a smile while reading the next request.
When he had taken over the responsibilities from his deceased brother, Arkel, as Akeneires’el, he had been horrified by the money spilling. Especially because he personally knew what hard work it was for him to find that money.
The As’mirin community had no economy to speak of. They did not even have a word for it. There was no earning money by working to spend it on consumables, like on the Other Side. No. Here, it was just spending. You wanted something, you asked for it.
It was Ekbeth’s responsibility to generate the money needed to cover the related costs.
Ekbeth had no idea how it worked before the destruction of Annilis. After the city was destroyed, the survivors had been left to themselves and had survived by growing their own food. There had been some trading with the humans at some point of time, but very limited. Only after the Valley had been closed to the rest of the world, the insidious economic nightmare had begun. The As’mirin had allowed the lost humans to stay in the Valley on the condition that they would take over the farming work and give a fixed quantity of the harvest to the As’mirin. It worked quite well in good harvesting years, but not so well in lean years. That had led to the revolt of the Aiarz’in and the almost total annihilation of the As’mirin population.
Nefer, Ekbeth’s long dead ancestor, the last pure blood As’miri, had made another pact with the Aiarz’in. They would get money for the food they gave.
There was a big flaw in that pact. The money. The As’mirin had no money.
In the first years, they had stripped the emptied houses of their valuable decorations. That was enough for a good century of sustenance. When that source dried up, they gave their own valuables. Then one of Ekbeth’s ancestors thought of creating a bank system in the Aiarz’i part.
The As’mirin had thought themselves very clever. Paying the humans with their own money. It had been a clever plan, Ekbeth had to admit. It had been enough for a time. Until the Aiarz’in realized they could create their own bank and keep the money to themselves.
Ekbeth’s grandfather had found a solution by opening a bank in Switzerland, on the Other side. A very discreet but very active bank. When he had taken over the operation there, Ekbeth had soon discovered most of the activities of that bank involved money-laundering.
He could live with that. All the banks were doing it. Maybe not on such a large scale, but it generated a lot of money in commission, which was fine with him.
Lately, though, the money-laundering was not so profitable. Laws were hindering his work. The clients remained, but they, too, had changed. The current criminal generation was expecting more from their bank than simply laundering their money. So Ekbeth had returned to what had been his first work on the Other Side—the trading business.
However, with the recent financial crisis behind them, even trading was becoming a very risky business. Mistakes were just not possible. Mistakes meant he would lose a fortune, with the consequence that his clients would try to kill him, if his family had not beaten them to it. Because it also meant there would be less or no food on the community table.
So Ekbeth had tried to control the problem from the other side as well. To control the spending. It had been an exhausting battle with the High Council, hours and hours of heated discussion. The As’mirin did not want to hear of restriction. They were not interested in the fact that the humans on the other side had exactly the same problem. That the money they were spending per year was enough to cover the needs of a population ten times bigger on the Other Side.
Ekbeth had not backed down. He had insisted. They had tried to take his title of Akeneires’el from him. When that had failed, there had been some serious poisoning attempts. Ekbeth did not want to remember how near he had been to dying during the last one. He owed his life to Kalem’s quick reaction and to Bers’el na Saoilcheach’s expertise.
Ekbeth had not relented. In the end, he had won. Somehow. Every As’mir family got an allocated budget, based on its size. Anything extra would have to be approved by Ekbeth. Nowadays, they were getting their revenge. Filing money requests had become a new sophisticated activity, Ekbeth understood. The As’mirin had hoped to bury him under their requests, so deeply that he would relent and drop the concept.
Bad luck for them. They were not the only stubborn ones there. That little victory had cost him too much to step back now.
Sometimes, sometimes he wished he was not Akeneires’el. At least, not the one in charge of the community finance. It was an enormous responsibility and he received no thanks for the hours he spent on it.
The running of the Bank on the other Side was taking far too much of his time, even with his cousin Lyrian’s help. He was already glad the bank on the Aiarz’i side was running smoothly without him. Good administrators there. And he really did not care that they were humans.
And then, this administrative nightmare here. For which he had no time. He was not spending enough time in the Valley. That was the problem. Time, time… always the same problem. That was something even the As’mirin had no control over.
He signed the request for the reorganization of the main hall lamps, put his personal seal on it, then pick up the next document. Self-pitying was not going to reduce the pile.
“So, that’s where you’re hiding yourself, Akeneires’el!”
The sudden appearance of the Aramalinyia in front of his desk startled him completely. She must have walked up to his room, but he had not heard her.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, young man! Making me walk up all those stairs at my age!”
Ekbeth was not intimidated, even though he hurried to find a chair for his prestigious guest. “You could have sent for me, Venerable.”
She pursed her lips. “I wanted a quiet word with you.”
Alarms went off in Ekbeth’s head. A quiet word with the Aramalinyia never was a good thing. It was just one step short of an appearance before the High Council, more often than not with an associated punishment.
They had found out about him helping Akalabeth, was all he could think of. That and the fact that he had almost lost the Annilis jewels.
The Aramalinyia studied him for a moment, then asked, “When are you going to ask for Kimiel Keh Niriel’s hand?”
Who? Oh yes, Shona. He still had to get used to her new name.
He was careful not to show his relief. The wedding. It was only about the wedding.
So the Aramalinyia was seeing though his poor attempt at delaying the inevitable. He had thought that avoiding the McLeans and the Aramalinyia in the coming days would be enough. That with the Aras’arisidz ceremonies keeping her busy, the Aramalinyia would forget about this, at least momentarily. And after the ceremonies, he could always pretend he had no idea where his intended was.
No such luck, then.
“I though
t this could wait a day or two, Aramalinyia. The Oyyads’erel has almost been too much for her. She can barely stand on her feet.”
This was a sound argument, but the Aramalinyia apparently did not agree, because she said, “The girl is much stronger than she looks. She has survived worse than a wedding proposal. I want you to go to the McLeans’ place tomorrow and ask for her hand before nightfall.”
Then she pursed her lips again. “Don’t force me to make this an official statement, Ekbeth. It is Ara’s will, but I want you to make the move. The McLeans accepting your request will be seen as an acceptance that the feud has to cease. If I declare you two have to marry, the bad feelings between the two families will still be there.”
The Aramalinyia produced a sweet smile. “I know you’re not happy about the whole idea, Ekbeth. But you have to trust Ara’s judgment on this. Only good will come out of your union. She told me so.”
Ekbeth felt trapped. He could not call the Aramalinyia a liar. Not without costly consequences, even if this conversation was private. But how clever of her to misuse the Goddess’s name.
He furiously tried to find some good argument, but all he could come up with was, “Is Kimiel aware of Ara’s plans for the two of us, Aramalinyia?”
The old woman shook her head.
Ekbeth had feared as much. And he knew better than to ask why Shona had not been informed of her fate yet.
He sighed. “Kimiel may refuse, Aramalinyia. In fact, I’m certain she’s going to refuse. She’s not used to our customs. On the Other Side…”
The Aramalinyia interrupted him. “I don’t care what happens outside Kse’Annilis. She will have to accept.”
Ekbeth cringed internally. He still had Matheson’s warnings in mind. Don’t force the girl to do anything, unless you want to end with a real bloody mess. Ekbeth especially remembered the emphasis the man had put on the word “bloody.”
“I don’t think the usual punishment will make her change her mind,” he argued. “She did not want to come here in the first place. She probably doesn’t care about a threat of banishment.”
“Ara will find a way to make her accept. I am certain. And have a bit more faith in yourself, Ekbeth. You are the Akeneires’el of the Na Duibhnes, and not too bad looking either. This should appeal to the girl.”
Ekbeth made a last attempt. “I overheard McLean, Aramalinyia. The woman is a criminal. Becoming my wife will give her a lot of authority. Something you may not want.”
The lips pursed again. “Even I can’t oppose the Goddess’s will. You also hear me saying everyone deserves a second chance, Ekbeth. Enough! You will marry the girl. Or I’ll get you banished! How about that?”
That left him speechless.
The Aramalinyia stood. “You have till tomorrow nightfall.”
She left him on those words.
Ekbeth was angry. Angry and frustrated. She left him no choice. No choice but to obey.
After all he had done for this community! This was not fair!
Damn it! Damn this conniving woman!
He sent the pile of administrative paper flying across the room.
23
Shona awoke on an uncomfortable mattress, in a room she did not recognize.
Then the events of the past night came back to her. After the almost drowning in the Lake and the congratulations, there had been a party in her honor. For the first time since she’d arrived, she had had a good view of other As’mirin. And the moment of wonder she had experienced when she had first met the Ke’As’mirin had come back.
There were no pointed ears, here. But all the As’mirin were showing some Elfin traits. Tall, thin, gracious.
She found the different hair colors… punkish. Someone explained to her that hair color told anyone whose family you belonged to, and the family names. Ekbeth was actually quite lucky to have black hair, because the other families’ hair would have shocked people on the Other Side.
She loved their clothes, which were so… medieval. Those long flowing robes were maybe not the most convenient to wear, as she had herself discovered when she walked on the stairs of Kse’Annilis, but they gave an undeniable distinction to the wearer. Again, it was explained to her that there was a strict code of colors for your attire, depending on the family to which you belonged. Na Duibhnes were only allowed black. The McLeans, orange or red. The trick was to subtly combine those colors so that they did not clash when the As’mirin were all together, as at the party tonight.
Shona learned more about colors in one evening than in her whole life.
And the jewels! She just needed to get some!
The new age guys on the Other Side had it all wrong. There was no intricate Celtic lace of silver at the ears of the women. Rather, long pendants of jade stone, delicately sculpted. Jade on their necks. Jade on their fingers. Jade in all colors, all sizes and all shapes.
None of it was as old as what she had worn, but those were antiques that had been passed down from one generation to the other.
Yeshe would have loved it here.
She suddenly understood why Ekbeth had a whole wall display of jade statues in his Zurich house. Jade was the As’mir gold.
They called it Kadj’el.
Kadj’el. Kadj’dur… She understood some things better. And she had had fun, real fun, for the first time since… She did not want to remember since when.
She had met and talked to many people. Not everyone was giving her the cold shoulder as the McLean family was. Though Ekbeth’s family members had shown some reluctance to talk to her, it was nothing like Duncan’s attitude.
She had tasted some drinks, and tried one dance. But her body did not keep up long.
When it had become too much for her, the servants brought her back to the Aramalinyia’s house, only to take back all the jade jewels from her and give her some warm and dry clothes.
Then someone had come to take her to another place.
Because she was not a lost As’mir anymore, she understood. She was part of the McLean family, willing or not, and had to live from now on in their house.
The someone who was guiding her up the stairs was not Duncan, thankfully. But her red-haired cousin, Sarah-Lysliana, if Shona had heard her name correctly.
By the time Shona reached her new home, she was too exhausted for conversation.
She accepted a shot of whisky and that was enough to put her out. She could not remember anything else.
Now, daylight was flooding the room. A sure sign it was late. And she was alone in the room. But not alone in the house. She could hear some loud arguing. Probably what had awakened her.
“Ah, awake at last.”
She jerked, surprised. She thought she recognized the voice. “Aunt Fiona?”
The other woman came to her, near enough for Shona to be certain. Of course, her great-aunt had gotten old over time, but Shona recognized her nonetheless. Aunt Fiona had been the only one to keep in contact with Shona’s mother after Shona’s father’s death. Shona had always liked the woman. But it had been some time since she had last seen her.
“Aye. Duncan has forbidden us to talk to you, Lass. But I don’t care about his orders. Do you want some breakfast?”
Shona felt ravenous. But she also realized she was unable to do more than sit.
Yesterday’s ceremony had taxed her energy more than she realized. And the ribs were still hurting.
Aunt Fiona came to her help. The older woman was smaller than she was, but strong. “We are going to the kitchen. We’ll have to be careful on the stairs, they’re all wobbly, but staying on that mattress won’t help you get better. Don’t worry. I won’t let you down.”
Shona nodded and, leaning heavily on her aunt, left the room. The stairs were not far away and, indeed, in a very poor state. Actually, she noticed, when she paid attention to it, that the whole house looked to be on the verge of collapse. There were huge cracks on the ceilings and the walls, and the colors of the paint were severely faded.
It only got worse when she entered what she supposed was the kitchen. Someone had put some cardboard over the windows. As a result, the room was quite dark. But she could smell the decay of some long-forgotten food, and hear the dripping of a faucet.
The McLeans had never been rich, she knew. They were producing just enough money to maintain their little island of an estate, up in the far north of the Highlands. That and feeding the clan. But surely they had enough money to keep that place as well?
In fact, Shona suddenly realized, the place looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. She must have spoken the last thought out loud because Aunt Fiona answered her. “Correct, Lass! Thirty years to be exact! The Na Duibhnes wanted our blood badly after your Alasdair snatched one of the Na Duibhnes’ fiancées. You must remember me telling this story to your mother, even though you were still quite young at the time. It was quite a scandal! We did not dare show up here afterwards! Till today! Have a seat! Take that chair! I can’t guarantee the others would take your weight, even light as you are. Still fancying that awful beverage in the morning?”
Shona obeyed her aunt. Sat down. The next moment a big bowl of porridge, some toast and a fresh cup of coffee were put in front of her.
“No butter, I’m afraid. We used the last bit of it yesterday, and I still have to find out how to get replenishments.”
Shona started to eat. At least this was not going to destroy her stomach like the normal As’mir fare. The porridge was not even bland, because someone had added milk and sugar to it.
She suddenly felt like crying. She forced herself to eat instead. Fiona was no dupe, however. She sat next to Shona and put her hand on Shona’s shoulder.
“What Duncan’s done to Emily and you children was wrong, Lass. But he’s the Laird. We had to accept his decision. I’m glad the Aramalinyia has at last corrected that wrongdoing.”
“She forced him to do so, Aunt Fiona. He’s made that clear to me. And probably to everyone as well.”
The hand squeezed her. “He’s a stubborn man that one. He will never admit his mistakes.”