Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock)

by Krause, Marguerite

  “That’s right. But in many cases, a husband and wife watched four or five or six children die before they finally had one who survived. Most of the Greenmothers were concentrating on helping those who fell sick to recover. It was Gavea who saw that the only way to remove the threat from the Children was to completely eliminate the fire bears.”

  “Is that why people like Herri don’t have any brothers or sisters?” Pepper asked.

  “Probably.”

  “Did the wizards kill the fire bears?” Matti wanted to know.

  “The wizards helped, but there weren’t very many of them left. It was time for a new generation of Dreamers, but few children of any kind were being born. With so many Keepers dying, many places in Rhenlan and central Dherrica could no longer produce enough food to feed their own people. Some Keeper families moved south, away from the fire bears’ influence, only to die of the cold. Whole Shaper families disappeared. Those that remained began to fight over who would rule certain areas. But Gavea went to Sitrine and told the newest of the Dreamers, Aage, what needed to be done. Aage took the best of the kings’ guards and they went from village to village all along the great sea, across the plains north of Edian, through the forests surrounding Long Pine, in and out of the foothills of every range of the Dherrican mountains, finding and killing fire bears.”

  “How long did it take?” Matti asked solemnly.

  “Sixty years,” Vray replied just as solemnly.

  “Not with the same guards!” Pepper protested.

  “No. Of course not. It took many, many people, and all of Aage’s magic, to do such a thing. But finally, Gavea and Aage knew that only one fire bear remained. It lived in the ruins of an empty village on the edge of a great marsh. Aage took two archers and a swordsman named Hion, and they sailed west along the coast, because it was the height of summer and the northern swamps were impassable. Twice they were almost swallowed by sea monsters. Once they had to go ashore so that Hion could slay a dragon, which had been flying after them. When they finally reached the fire bear’s lair, Hion coaxed it out, using himself as bait. Its claws scratched him and he was sick for a very long time. But while he was fighting it, the archers were able to shoot it with arrow after arrow until finally one of the arrows pierced its eye and brain and killed it. That was in the year that Prince Damon was born. It marked the beginning of the end of the plague.”

  “What does that mean?” Pepper asked. “Beginning of the end?”

  “Anything that doesn’t end all at once has to start ending somewhere. The plague was spread by the bears; spread very far. Sickness appeared in some villages years after a bear had been nearby. But once Hion had killed that last bear, the Dreamers knew the plague would die out, too. Does that tell you enough about fire bears, Matti?”

  Her bed shifted slightly. Pepper whispered, “She’s asleep.”

  “I guess that tells me what kind of storyteller I am.”

  “Oh, no, you were wonderful. Matti’s just too little to be up so late.”

  “We’d better put her back on your bed.” After a brief fumble, Vray lifted the small child and cradled her against her shoulder. She found herself wondering if the prince who’d been born in the year of the last fire bear had ever been this little and curious, and fallen asleep when told of his father’s exploits. Pepper led her to the other bed, and together they tucked Matti under the blanket.

  “Go to sleep, now, Pepper.”

  “I will. Do you know more stories?”

  Vray smiled into the dark. “A few.” She climbed back into her own bed and closed her eyes.

  “Good,” was Pepper’s final comment for the night.

  Chapter 24

  Jordy followed the porter up the stairs to the law reader’s room. The white-haired Shaper behind the table identified himself as Reader Oskin. Beside him stood an old woman in Redmother’s robes—the witness. The captain of the king’s guard, the man Jordy had come to challenge, stood just in front of the dark wooden table, arms folded over his chest, aquiline features impassive. He gave no sign that he recognized Jordy. So much, Jordy thought bitterly, for fine words spoken around a summer campfire.

  At the law reader’s command he made his statement. The witness listened attentively, her mouth a small ‘o’ of sympathy as he described torches falling among the children in the inn yard. Reader Oskin scratched lines in a book with a feather. Captain Dael saved his response until Jordy had finished.

  “It seems the guards let their enthusiasm get the better of them,” he said.

  Oskin raised his white eyebrows. “Enthusiasm for an action that was in itself of dubious legality.”

  Dael flipped his long blond hair back over his shoulder with an impatient movement of his head. “They’d found a suitable candidate for the guard. They didn’t want to lose him.”

  “They took him forcibly from his family and village. Twice,” Jordy stated.

  “It is an honor to serve the king.”

  “A voluntary honor.”

  “One to be encouraged. The guards were simply doing their duty.”

  Oskin interrupted the rapid exchange of words. “What action am I expected to take in this matter?” he demanded.

  Jordy had his reply ready. “Return Pross to his family. Discipline the guards. Reimburse the innkeeper and the smith for their lost property.”

  “Guard discipline is my concern,” Dael replied. “Even if I could identify that troop from your description, which is doubtful, you can’t expect me to tell them not to protect themselves from an angry mob.”

  “Mob? A village at its spring festival is not a mob!”

  The captain spoke over his objection. “The boy is probably enjoying himself by now. He could be anywhere in Rhenlan. If I encounter news of him, I’ll see that he knows he’s been missed at home. As to the property damage you mentioned, what was it? A door? A few tables? That’s a matter for the treasury, not for me.”

  With an effort, Jordy held his temper. The law reader said, “Prince Damon administers the treasury. You can tell your village that its claim will be considered. But I warn you, the prince it not likely to trouble himself with such an insignificant amount.”

  “His attention is on larger affairs,” Dael added.

  “That’s all, then.” Oskin raised his voice. “Next.” The porter opened the door.

  Jordy left the law reader’s house and returned to the marketplace in a haze of bitter fury. At the wagon, he answered Tob in monosyllables until the boy wisely vanished. He worked off his anger by giving the already clean Stockings a vigorous grooming. He hadn’t really expected anything better of the law reader. It had been foolishness to think that his single, chance encounter with Hion’s guard captain three years earlier would influence the man’s present behavior. Jordy knew his anger was the result of disillusionment. More foolishness. He should know better than to harbor illusions about anyone as close to Rhenlan’s prince as Captain Dael must be.

  Jordy allowed the horse to go back to her grazing. He circled the marketplace, arranging for his next load of goods, taking requests for the return trip. Tob caught up with him late in the afternoon, in time to share flaky fish pastries from a market stall.

  As they finished, a boy perhaps a year younger than Tob, brown hair a shade lighter than his skin, ran up to Jordy and touched his sleeve. “You’re the carter, Jordy?” he asked.

  “Aye.”

  “My father is a glass maker, Bellon. He’d like to speak to you about carrying some merchandise for us.”

  Jordy brushed the last crumbs off his fingers. “I’ll have to see it.”

  “I can take you to our shop now, if you like.”

  They threaded their way out of the square into a street lined with equal numbers of shops and residences. Tob and the boy soon fell into conversation. Jordy allowed them to walk a little ahead while he calculated how much room he could spare for this man Bellon’s cargo. At the shop, the boy held the door open and Tob stepped aside to allow him to ent
er first.

  The interior of the shop was tall and spacious. Thin spring sunshine entered through dozens of clear windows set in the upper portions of all four walls. Lower windows stood open to admit the cool afternoon breeze. Light sparkled and reflected between glass objects of every shape, size, color, and purpose. A large workbench occupied the center of the room, midway between the door and the fiery mouth of the furnace. Jordy halted in mid-stride.

  Seated at the worktable was Dael.

  “Carter, don’t leave. We should talk.”

  Three others sat near the captain. A man with the boy’s brown skin rose. “I’m Bellon. I do need someone to bring me a mineral from Atade which I use to color my glass. This is my wife, Thena, Senior Brownmother for Edian.”

  The woman beside him nodded, her dark eyes and long face worried.

  The glassmaker gestured to the remaining man, seated between him and the guard captain. “I understand you know my friend the goldsmith?”

  “Loras. It’s been a long time since the lake country.” Then he glared at the young guard captain. “It seems things have changed.”

  “Come in, boys. Close the door,” Bellon said. “Sit down and be quiet. That is, if that’s all right with you, carter?”

  “I won’t say anything my son shouldn’t hear.”

  The glassmaker’s son led Tob to a pair of stools under the south windows, where they perched, wide-eyed and solemn. Jordy took the single vacant stool, across the workbench from Loras and Dael.

  “The situation has changed, for the worse,” Loras answered his accusation, an unhappy frown on his weathered face. “Dael told me what happened in Broadford. It’s appalling.”

  Jordy’s eyes narrowed. “Your son didn’t seem to find it appalling.”

  “Not in front of Law Reader Oskin. In public, I’m completely loyal to my prince and my king. Stop feeling offended for a moment, and think about my position. I’m the Captain of the king’s guard!”

  In the pause the followed, the fire in the furnace crackled and hissed. The tight knot of outrage in the pit of Jordy’s stomach didn’t ease. “So, you don’t agree with present Shaper policy?”

  “What do you know of Shaper policy?” Dael countered with no little fury of his own. “Policy is something that concerns whole kingdoms. You’re worried about one village!”

  “This isn’t just about Broadford! I’m looking beyond Rhenlan. So should you be!”

  “What can he do?” Loras spread his large hands, palm upward, on the table. “In his position, he answers directly to the king.”

  “To Damon, more often,” the captain said. “Hion rarely concerns himself with the guard these days.”

  “Hion or Damon, it makes no difference,” Loras said. “If Dael were to defy them, they would simply dismiss him. At least this way he can try to do some good.”

  “I am sorry about Broadford,” Dael said. “Forget what I said to the law reader. I will try to find Pross and get him back to your village. I think I know the identity of the troop involved. Knowing what you’ve told me confirms that I can’t trust them. They’ve become more Damon’s men than mine.”

  Jordy leaned forward, interested in spite of himself. “There’s that much division in the guards?”

  “On the surface, no. Discipline is good. I’m respected and obeyed. I also make a point of keeping well informed. I know which of my people enjoy the attentions and special favors of the prince, and which of them remember their proper duties as guardians and protectors of the common good.” He made a helpless gesture. The dissatisfaction evident in his expression paralleled Jordy’s own feelings. “The first group I watch diligently. The second group I trust. If it weren’t for the responsible ones, the ones who really care, maybe I wouldn’t stay. Maybe that makes me a fool.”

  “Dael—” his father began.

  “You say I should think beyond Rhenlan? I do. If I had some freedom of movement, instead of being trapped here, there’s no end to what I could do.” Dael straightened on his stool. “We’ve heard of your dissatisfaction, carter. We think we should help each other.”

  “Heard?” Jordy asked skeptically. “Where?”

  “A friend of yours,” Loras added. “The minstrel Ivey.”

  “He told us you’re always interested in news of our rulers,” Dael said. “I can give you that.”

  Jordy looked around the table. “You should know that I believe the very concept of the ruling and the ruled needs to be questioned.”

  Loras gave a long, low whistle. “And we thought we were dissatisfied.”

  “We?”

  “Some of us here in Edian, who don’t like the direction Damon’s been taking. He’s supposed to be responsible—actually, his father’s supposed to be responsible, but Damon does everything these days in his father’s name—for our welfare. Instead, he’s busy trying to extend his influence farther and farther from home. Where’s the sense in his claiming taxes and services from more and more Keepers, when he has yet to fulfill his vows to those of us who are already his responsibility?”

  “Where is the sense,” Jordy countered, “in continuing to acknowledge his authority?”

  “It’s the same common sense that causes a small child to run from a bully,” Brownmother Thena snapped. “Self-preservation, carter.”

  “The strongest bully is helpless against several children capable of cooperating against him.” Jordy saw the others’ doubtful expressions, but continued resolutely. “You said it yourself, Dael. Many of the guards are good people who’d never put a village to the torch, no matter what Damon ordered. Just imagine what we could accomplish if Keepers all across the kingdom joined together to deny all Shaper injustice.”

  Dael tilted his head to one side. “I can imagine certain Shapers feeling threatened by an idea like that.”

  “That’s one of its dangers,” Jordy agreed.

  “That sort of cooperation won’t develop spontaneously.” Loras gave them a few seconds to consider his opinion before adding, “It will take a tremendous amount of work to organize such cooperation.”

  “Organization would be the least of our worries—” Dael began.

  “It’s ignorance of the danger that—” Jordy said at the same moment.

  Conversation around the table fragmented. Dael and his father fell into one loud discussion, while Jordy found himself arguing equally vehemently with Thena. Then something Loras said drew her attention, and Dael asked a question which Jordy had to answer with a long description of the hard realities of life in the villages. He spared a reassuring nod for Tob, who was watching the group of adults with a worried frown.

  Bellon, who had remained silent, suddenly leaned across the work bench and heartily clapped Jordy on the shoulder. “By the Firstmother, we can do it! And if you can convince me, carter, you can convince anyone.”

  “We’ll have to proceed very carefully,” Dael warned. “Of us all, you have the most freedom of movement, Jordy. All of the initial coordination, at least, will fall on you.”

  “There are others we can count on,” Jordy replied. “Ivey, for instance.”

  Loras nodded. “Yes. He’d be helpful, if he’s willing.”

  “He’s willing,” Jordy said.

  While they’d been speaking evening had fallen. Thena got up from the workbench and went to light the lamps.

  Dael also rose. “I’ve got to get back. Thank you, carter.” He paused, obviously searching for words, but finally said simply, “Good night,” and left.

  Bellon got down from his stool, stretched, and sighed. “We’ve all had enough food for thought for the time being. Join us for supper, carter. You and your son. There’s still that Atade shipment to consider.”

  “Thank you. We’ll do that.”

  Jordy beckoned to Tob. Thena and her son went out the door first, followed by Loras.

  The goldsmith paused in the doorway. “I’ll be going home,” he said. “How long will you be in Edian?”

  “Another day. T
wo at most.”

  “See me before you leave. I might know a few useful people in the villages and towns you’ll be visiting.”

  Bellon closed the shop behind them. He motioned Jordy and Tob toward a handsome house next door. Loras said his farewells and went off down the street in the opposite direction.

  Jordy exhaled a long, tired sigh in the darkness. He hadn’t accomplished what he’d set out to accomplish on this visit. He wasn’t completely sure how circumstances had come to shift the way they had. Aye, well, he wouldn’t take back a word. If they’d begun something, so be it. For better or worse, they’d just have to see it through to the end.

  * * *

  “Any land, any group of people, needs one ruler, one ultimate authority who takes final responsibility for all decisions made.” Sene clasped his hands behind his back and refused to flinch under the pressure of Feather’s skeptical gaze. Jenil had taken care of the girl’s physical and emotional well-being during her years in Garden Vale, but Feather had a great deal to learn about how to be a member of the ruling family of an entire kingdom. Since the Spring Festival, Sene had made an effort to spend time with her every day. Sometimes they walked to Raisal, or rode to a nearby village, and Sene introduced her to Redmothers and community leaders. Other times they stayed home, where Feather could learn the day-to-day details of the life she would one day share with his children.

  “In Sitrine,” Sene continued, “the responsibilities of the throne will go to Jeyn rather than Chasa. However, there is a great deal of hard work that comes before any decision—work which should be shared. That’s been part of the problem in Dherrica for years.”

  Feather cocked her head. “What has?”

  “One person holding too much power. Farren started it, when he diminished the size of his court and eliminated his council entirely. Dea only made matters worse by banishing Bronle’s wizard. Hion has his faults, but at least he’s training Damon to rule, and he keeps up his council meetings.”

  “Greenmother Jenil doesn’t have a very high opinion of that council.”

  “Compare conditions in Rhenlan with those in Dherrica. A weak council is better than none at all.”