by JD Byrne
“I’ll admit, that is a relief,” Antrey said.
“I imagine it is,” Goshen said. “Over those years, it became clear to me that each clan’s protector operates in more or less the same way, as an aspect of the physical world. They do not overlap or stray into each other’s territories, much like the clans themselves, in theory. Just as the clans are, for all their differences, all Neldathi, so too are all the gods and goddesses the Maker of Worlds.”
Antrey picked up the theme. “So where most people see division and difference between the gods and the clans, you see—”
He cut her off again. “I see the oneness of all Neldathi and the one true god who created them.”
Antrey sat on the stool and processed all this and had her own instant flash of insight. “That’s why you’re so interested in what’s written in my journal. About what I learned before I,” she paused for a moment, nearly choking on the words, “before I killed Alban.”
He nodded. “Yes. But my interest is not just in what you learned before that fateful moment. I am also intrigued by what you plan to do with that knowledge.”
“You mean try and bring the clans together?” Antrey asked. She honestly could not remember writing it down. She looked away from Goshen, down into the cooling bowl before her. “It’s not really a plan. There is no reason to think anyone could unify the clans, much less me.”
“No, no, no, that is where you are wrong,” Goshen said, shaking his head vigorously back and forth. “You, Antrey, are the only person who can bring the clans together. It is imperative that you know that to be true in your heart, for that is the only way justice and unity can be achieved.”
She took a long, slow swallow of the stew, but did not say any more.
Goshen walked over to her and looked down at her, a gleam of light dancing in his eyes. “You and I are going to help each other a great deal, I think, Antrey. I will go first and convince Ushan to let you remain with the clan.”
Chapter 18
Goshen never told Antrey exactly what he said or did to convince Ushan to withdraw her edict. Regardless, the days passed and the clan did not cast her aside, even as they began moving further along their circuit. She had not seen Ushan or Kajtan, or even Hirrek, since the initial meeting in the tent. Goshen had convinced her not to seek them out, but also not to simply disappear into the mass of the clan. It felt good to Antrey to belong somewhere, no matter how tenuously.
It had been several days since the clan broke camp and began to move slowly down the slope of the mountains, towards the south. Antrey wondered if they were chasing the winter, which should be on the verge of breaking soon. Frost still crunched underfoot and Antrey’s breath made wisps of white vapor in the air, even as they sank further and further into the valley below.
Progress was slow. There was little to aid the clan in their travels aside from their own feet. There were beasts of burden in the column, but they were large, lumbering creatures lashed to laden carts and wagons. Aside from a few older and younger people, and the clan’s leadership, who rode in the wagons where there was room, everyone walked. It took Antrey a few days to appreciate the fact that there were no horses around. She wondered if that, too, was a conscious choice of the clans, or simply a matter of their survival in this climate.
Given the slow progress, the column was much more organized than Antrey imagined it would be. Far from the unsorted mass of people on foot with some vehicles scattered about, it was a well-organized and logically planned thing. The wagon in which Ushan and her inner circle rode was in the center of the column, pulled by a pair of enormous wooly beasts that looked to Antrey to be the Neldathi cousin to the common cow. At the front of the column was a mixture of scouts, guides, and skirmishers who plotted a course through the thick forest and assured nothing lurked in their path. Hirrek and some of the other hunters circled the column briskly, on the watch for stragglers or deserters.
Antrey had taken up a position near the rear of the column, along with Goshen. He walked, as the rest of them did, but he had a small cart pulled by some kind of donkey in which he carried his books and papers. From that vantage point, Antrey could see the serpentine column stretch out down the slope in front of her, a tapering line of pale blue figures. She estimated there were about eighty thousand people in the column, although she had no idea what its demographic might be. In an emergency, she imagined the Dost could field an army of twenty thousand, and it was one of the smaller clans. If she could bring all eleven of them together and each could provide half that amount, it would be a fighting force to be reckoned with.
With her near the back of the column were a group of common people, most into middle age but none of them old enough to take advantage of an empty spot on a wagon. There were also stragglers and those who wandered off in one direction or another before the hunters could corral them. Antrey thought she fit in there quite well, but wondered what Goshen was doing among the riffraff. She quickened her pace to catch up with him. “Shouldn’t you be up there with the Great Mother?” she asked, pointing downhill towards the circle of spears that marked Ushan’s guards.
“Why would you think that?” he asked without much thought.
“You’re one of her most trusted advisors, aren’t you? You were there in the meeting tent when she spoke to me. And I was recovering in your tent before that. I assumed you were part of the elite of the clan.”
Goshen sighed. “What I provide to the Great Mother is honest advice and learned counsel. However, honest advice and learned counsel only go so far in the face of blood and heritage.”
Antrey didn’t know what to say to that and so remained silent.
“Remember, Antrey, I am very much like you,” he said. “I do not belong to this clan. I belong to no clan at all. I would like to think that I belong to all of the clans equally, but that is not the truth of things. I have the Great Mother’s ear on some matters not because I am Dost, but in spite of the fact that I am not. There are others in the clan who do not appreciate my influence, so it is better to stay away from the trappings of power as much as possible. It is well worth the petty indignities to be able to speak with Ushan honestly and directly when the need arises.”
“That seems like a poor way to govern,” Antrey said.
“Governance has little to do with doing the right things,” he said. “It is much more important, in most areas, to be perceived to be doing the correct things for the correct reasons. Many in the column, many who walk around us right now, believe me to be a blasphemer. As such, I am as ill suited to the role of counselor to their thek as any Altrerian would be. I do not make offerings to Var, the way they do. To them, I am simply different. An outsider. And I always will be, I fear.”
“Surely Ushan doesn’t think you are a blasphemer?” Antrey asked.
Goshen shrugged. “To speak honestly, I am not certain what the Great Mother thinks of my beliefs. It is not my role to advise her on such things and I do not try to do so. I provide her concrete services. I write. I read. I have access to the wisdom of the ages, those that her Speakers of Time do not know. My desire is to see all Neldathi united in their worship of the Maker of Worlds. I recognize that her desire is altogether different.”
“Maybe she’ll change her mind one day,” Antrey said.
“I do not think that is likely,” Goshen said, shaking his head. “I only hope she finds me useful for long enough to believe in you, Antrey, if not the Maker of Worlds.”
“In me?” Antrey asked.
“If not in you, then in your cause,” he said. “In the reason you are with us here.”
They walked in silence for a few moments, Antrey unsure how to respond to that. She was aware that, at some point, if she wished to bring the clans together in light of what the Triumvirate had done to them, she would have to convince others to believe in her. But, until now, she had never heard the idea pass from the lips of someone else. It made the idea more real and more necessary.
As they walked, Hi
rrek jogged up from down the mountain and fell in beside Goshen’s cart. He said something, primarily to Goshen, although he shifted his gaze from the holy man to Antrey and back again several times. Goshen said something briefly in response, then Hirrek ran back down the slope towards the front of the column.
“What was that all about?” Antrey asked.
“Hirrek says that the front of the column has reached the valley,” Goshen said. “The meeting tent will be set up there, next to a spring. While it is being assembled, the Great Mother will have an audience with us.”
“An audience?” Antrey asked. “About what?”
“About your cause, of course,” Goshen said. “It would be best if you took the time until we arrive to think about precisely what you might say to her. The fate of our common cause,” he paused and placed a hand on her shoulder, “may depend on what you say.”
~~~~~
It took considerably longer for Antrey and Goshen to reach the valley floor than Hirrek had estimated. By the time they arrived, the frosty plain that bumped up against the face of the mountain was a hive of activity, with people spread out as far as Antrey could see. The tens of thousands had neatly divided into smaller and smaller subgroups and had begun making camp, defining the boundary of this moving city that would exist for only a few days. Again, the organization and well-practiced precision of it all took Antrey by surprise, for which she scolded herself.
At the base of the mountain was a brilliant blue pool fed by several small streams that ran down the slope. A stand of evergreens ringed the pool, providing a natural way to set off Ushan and her advisors. They had made a hasty lean-to against the weather there, to make do while tents were assembled. While the lean-to was barely a structure at all, it still had a regal air to it, as the ornate chairs that Antrey had first seen in the meeting tent were there, placed under its cover. Ushan and Kajtan were already there, sitting patiently behind a small fire that crackled and hissed in the dying sun. On the other side of the fire was a mat, spread out on the snowy ground, where those addressing the Great Mother could sit or stand.
Hirrek, who was standing outside the ring of evergreens when Antrey and Goshen arrived, shot them an angry look. Antrey was grateful she could not speak to him directly, as she would have no doubt said something inappropriate about his time-estimation skills. Instead, she smiled and nodded slightly as Goshen led her through the trees to where Ushan was sitting. They walked over to the mat and bowed.
Goshen said something to Ushan, then turned halfway to Antrey to translate. “Thank you, Great Mother, for granting us your audience,” he said.
Kajtan blurted out a series of short, angry words. “Your delay has tried our patience,” Goshen said for him.
Goshen responded to Kajtan first, then told Antrey, “Accept our apologies, General. We came as quickly as possible. The clan grows larger and stronger with each passing day under the Guidance of the Great Mother. Sometimes that gift leads to progress being slowed.”
Kajtan grumbled, but didn’t say anything else to Goshen. At least nothing that Goshen felt the need to translate for Antrey.
Ushan took up the conversation, calming her husband with the wave of a hand. She said something to Goshen in much more calm, slow, lilting tones. “There are times when these things cannot be helped,” Goshen translated. “The delay does not suit us, but it does us no harm. Please be seated.” When Goshen was finished, Ushan gestured for Antrey and Goshen to sit on the mat in front of the fire.
Once they were seated, Ushan began to speak in those same long, almost sung phrases. Goshen translated every few seconds. “Antrey, you have remained with us much longer that I originally intended. It has been against my better judgment to allow you to do so.”
Antrey began to apologize, but before she got a word out Ushan cut her off as she had done with Kajtan a few moments earlier. “Do not worry,” she said, via Goshen’s translation. “I am not accusing you of any wrongdoing. I am merely stating the truth that, had my original order had been implemented, you would no longer be with us. Goshen, in his persistent way, has convinced me otherwise. He has told me your story more than once. I know how you came to be among us. I know how and I understand why you killed this man,” Goshen paused as Ushan stumbled over the name.
“Alban,” Antrey said, her gut twisting just a bit as she did.
Ushan nodded and said, slowly, “Alban,” before returning to her own language. Goshen translated, “He kept the books of the Triumvirate. He guarded their secrets.”
Antrey nodded. It was as good a description as any.
She continued, “I understand what you discovered, about how the Triumvirate has done such wicked things to our people. Were it I who found out such things, I would have reacted the same way. But why did you do so? You are not Neldathi. You are not one of us. Why so much anger about what was done?”
Antrey thought about the question, for it was one that she had not considered before. On the long walk from Tolenor she had examined almost every detail of the incident comprehensively, but she had always taken her reaction upon learning of the Triumvirate program for granted. It seemed natural to her. She turned to Goshen. “How do I say I was angry?” she asked him. He provided a quick lesson. Antrey turned back to Ushan and said, “I was angry, Great Mother.”
Ushan smiled at Antrey’s use of their language. She shifted her focus to Goshen and said something in an exasperated tone. “That much is obvious,” he said on her behalf. “But why were you so angry? What wrong had been done to you?”
Antrey did not quite grasp what Ushan was getting at, but decided it was better to talk it out rather than sit and overthink it. She turned to Goshen, who translated every few words for Ushan, and said, “Great Mother, I have no people. I am not Neldathi. I belong to no clan. Nor am I Altrerian. No nation of the Triumvirate would claim me. When I read about what the Triumvirate had done to the Neldathi, I was not thinking about it in terms of a wrong done by others to my ancestors. What I read made my heart ache, for both parts of my being. My Neldathi half felt pity and sorrow and rage on behalf of what has happened to your people. My Altrerian half felt the fear of those people in the wake of the Rising, but also shame for how they allowed that fear to drive their actions. I have always been uneasy with my place in this world. But on the inside, I never felt truly conflicted about who I am or what I am. My two halves have never been at war. But outside, they are locked in a deadly game of deceit, mayhem, and death.”
She paused for a moment to let Goshen catch up and make sure Ushan understood what she was saying. When Antrey saw recognition in her eyes, she continued, “I weighed my feelings after I fled Tolenor to save my own life. I decided that my future, my fate, lay with you. With those who had been abused for so long. Only a unified Neldathi can confront the Triumvirate and seek justice for what has been done to them. In the very simplest of terms, Great Mother, I learned of a great wrong and I decided I must do what I can to put it right.”
Ushan sat while Goshen translated and then said nothing for what seemed like several minutes. Antrey’s answer had either truly given her something to think about or had been so poor that she did not know how to deal with it.
Goshen broke into the silence, saying something to Ushan. He was quickly cut off, however. Antrey did not need to know precisely what Ushan said to know that she did not approve. “What did you say to her?” she asked him.
“I told her that the Maker of Worlds had sent you to us,” Goshen said.
“She didn’t agree,” Antrey said.
Goshen looked ashamed. “She said she was in no mood for my heresy and that it had no place in this discussion.”
Antrey felt bad for Goshen, seeing him cut down that briskly. He had stuck his neck out for her. It was her turn to try and return the favor. “Great Mother,” she said in the Dost tongue, getting Ushan’s attention, before turning to Goshen to translate. “While I do not completely understand or even believe what Goshen says about the Maker of Worlds
,” she said, giving Goshen a look that apologized for that concession, “I think there is some truth in his thinking.”
Ushan shook her head and said something. “I admit that I do not see it,” Goshen said for her.
“The weapon that the Triumvirate has wielded against the Neldathi since the Rising was put down has been the gods,” Antrey explained. “The gods no longer have a place in the daily life of most Altrerians. They no longer believe. What rituals remain are done more out of tradition and nostalgia. Nothing more. I saw that with my own eyes.”
Ushan objected again, more forcefully this time. “I grow weary of this blasphemous talk,” Goshen said for her.
Antrey shook her head. “I am only telling the Great Mother what I know about the Altrerians,” she said. “That is how the gods are treated north of the Water Road. Because the gods no longer mean anything to them, it became easy to use them against you.” Antrey paused for a moment and decided to ask a question. “Great Mother, how much do you know about how the Neldathi honored the gods prior to the Rising?”
“I have listened to the Speakers of Time tell tales of the gods,” Ushan said via Goshen. “You would do well to listen to some of them, as well.”
Antrey continued, undaunted, “I shall, Great Mother. But I am not talking simply about stories. What I want to know is if the Speakers of Time tell stories of how the clans behaved towards the gods and towards each other before the Rising.”
Ushan shook her head. “Great Mother does not know,” Goshen said.
“I can tell her what I know,” Antrey said. She waited for Goshen to translate the request, to which Ushan nodded in agreement. “According to the debate of the Grand Council, as recorded in the book I found, before the Rising each clan had its protector god or goddess, with whom each had a special relationship,” she said. “But, in addition to that, all the clans venerated all of the gods. The Triumvirate deliberately changed that. They took the gods associated with each clan and tied them, through stories both false and true, to long-held grievances and feuds between the clans. The Triumvirate took what had been petty squabbles and changed them into holy wars.”