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Calling Up the Fire

Page 4

by Lori Martin


  Pillyn’s hands groped meaninglessly among her papers. Temhas, with his head to one side, watching, smiled in some secret amusement.

  “You visit the former Lindahne Queen,” Mejalna continued, urgently. “Don’t you? Isn’t it true?”

  Renasi whispered, “Careful, Mej. Don’t push her.”

  Pillyn hesitated. “You don’t – are we – I don’t understand you. Are we still talking about trade?”

  “You do see her?”

  “Yes, but –”

  “I noticed your son pass by outside. Even he is in your family’s colors, and yet his father is a Mendale.”

  Her bewilderment changed to fear. She looked at her brother. He was patting the dog, serene.

  What are they after? she thought. Is it Paither? Are they from the army, even spies from the Assembly? She reminded herself that she was the mistress here. “I don’t know what you want, but I’m afraid I have no more time to give you. If you’ll step into the hall, my girl will show you your way out.”

  Renasi scrambled to his feet, but Mejalna remained in her chair. “I’m interested in the queen, Mistress Pillyn. You see her more often, perhaps, than anyone but her guards. There are Lindahnes who could find that useful, who need information about her.”

  “I’m not a Defier,” Pillyn said shrilly. “My husband is a loyal Mendale and a herald in the Assembly. My son has never even been to Lindahne. We never go there, I tell you! I – Temhas, show them out. Now.”

  “There’s no need, thank you.” Mejalna stood up. “We seem to have made a mistake. Good day.”

  They were almost to the door when Temhas said, “I would have thought you’d be better at it.”

  They halted.

  “You pushed too hard too quickly, and frightened off your quarry. Slow and subtle would have worked better.”

  “Temhas, what are you –”

  “Pillyn, you’re an intelligent woman, but you’ve no head for deception.” He rolled to his feet, brushing at his clothes. “These rugs need a beating. They’re full of ash.”

  The trader, wary, opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. “Listen to me, my girl. If you’re going to pose as Mendale traders, you have to look it. Oh, the cloaks are right, but your friend there has his belted in the Lindahne way. Besides that, no Mendale trader would be so respectful. ‘Lindahne’ this and that.” He laughed. “We’re called lins here, my friend, primitive lins. The conquered race. And I’ve never met a Mendale who knew anything about family colors.”

  Mejalna said slowly, “We’ve traded in Lindahne. We know your country’s ways.”

  “Really? And so, of course, that’s why you’re so interested in our deposed queen?”

  “Temhas.” Pillyn came around the desk and grabbed his arm. “Are they – you mean they’re Lindahnes, too?”

  “My dear girl, they’re not just Lindahnes.They’re Defiers.”

  The announcement, stated so calmly, seemed to crackle in the room. Renasi put his back to the closed door; his hand moved to his hip, as if a sword hung there. Mejalna said steadily, “And if we are?”

  “Then you’ve decided my sister can help you in some way. Maybe get you to the queen?”

  “I thought they were Assembly spies,” Pillyn said, still staring.

  “There, you see? You shouldn’t have frightened her.”

  Mejalna came and stood close in front of them. Temhas felt the full effect of her penetrating eyes. “The Defiers are seeking to restore our country and our royals. I remind you that we are not a conquered race, Master Temhas, but the children of Mother Nialia.” Her voice, true and sweet, suddenly vibrated with emotion. “Mendale corruption is eating at our Hills, our temples are abandoned, all due to the Oversettle occupation. We will defeat them. But we need the queen. And Mistress Pillyn, you’ve seen her, spoken to her. Is she well?”

  “I – her breath comes short.”

  “I must reach her. We’ve heard they may be moving her to a holding-house, and make her one of a hundred in a building surrounded by soldiers. We have to get to her before that. They keep her now in a private house just outside MenDas, with only six guards –”

  “More than that,” Pillyn whispered.

  “Oh. Well, that’s the kind of information we need. Will you help us?”

  “My husband is in the Mendale Assembly.”

  “Yes, I know. We considered that. We’ve been studying you. Not all of my companions thought you were worth taking a risk on, but I did. Mistress, I know what I’m asking you. We’ve come to you because no one else, no one else in this country or ours, can bring us to the queen. Will you help us?”

  “What do you want?” she burst out. She was still gripping her brother’s arm. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Take me on. I’m nobleborn, but you can take me on as a waiting girl or a nurse to your little daughter, anything. Then bring me with you on a visit to the queen.”

  “I haven’t seen her for nearly half a year. My husband was under pressure – he’s the herald – it doesn’t look good for his wife –” She caught her breath. “The Assembly is against it now.”

  “Thanks to the Defiers,” Temhas put in. He eased his arm from her fierce hold. “What would you do, if you did get through to see the queen? Free her by force? And then what would happen?”

  Renasi said in warning, “They’re not with us, Mej.”

  Mejalna paused, considering. The mistress’s fear was obvious, but what was the cause? Other Lindahnes, she knew, were often afraid to join with them; it meant risking one’s life. And perhaps, as hard as it was to believe, she might actually be fond of this Mendale husband. But was there something else?

  “I can’t tell you anything more, unless you join with us,” she said. “You may be traitors. You may denounce us to the master of this estate or to the Assembly. We’ve put our lives in jeopardy just in speaking to you. Renasi and I accepted the risk because we knew you had to be approached. We had hoped – but I won’t risk our plans with you. All I’ll do is point out the truth: the Mendales must be driven from Lindahne, by sword. We need a leader to rally us. And we’ll need a leader to turn to, when the fight is won.” “We have lost our royals,” Renasi said, low.

  “King Raynii and his brother are dead. The last heir and relas... well, no one knows what became of her or the child she was expecting –”

  Temhas shifted uneasily. Pillyn said, “Sillus had a daughter who survived the War.”

  Mejalna lifted an eyebrow at her casual use of the name. “The king’s brother? Yes. His daughter and her children were the last of the line.” Brother and sister exchanged startled glances. Mejalna said, “I see you didn’t hear. You’re too far from Lindahne. It was more than five years ago, when the Defiers were still few in numbers and weak. We couldn’t protect them. The daughter’s home on the Fourth was burned down and they were all killed. It looked as if it had been deliberately set. Fine Mendale work, of course.”

  “Oh,” Pillyn said, with pain.

  Temhas asked, “Then the queen is the only royal left, is that what you mean?”

  “Yes. She’s not the blood heir, but she was our queen for many years. With Nialia’s help, she will be so again.”

  Pillyn, whispering, said, “She’s old, she can’t establish a dynasty, she has no royal line. Even if she were in Chair, on her death there would be no one –”

  For the first time the intent young woman laughed, a softening sound. “We’re a long way from that problem.”

  Temhas said, “If you had a relas to fight for, a true heir, the rightful successor...”

  Pillyn’s face contorted. She clutched at his arm again, this time in anger. “Leave me alone,” she hissed at the Defier. “I can’t help you!”

  “Mistress Pillyn, please think. You needn’t be involved any further than this. Just bring me to the queen –”

  “Get out!” she shouted. “Get out of my house! Stay away from my family!”

  The Defier stepped back fr
om her fury. In a new voice Temhas said, “Pillyn, don’t do this. The day may have come to –”

  “By all the gods, hold your tongue!”

  “By all the gods,” the Defier mimicked. “Our gods, mistress, would weep for our cowardice. In Lindahne right now you could be put to death just for bringing an offering to the old temples. And yet here you live, in the middle of Mendale wealth, and you call on divine protectors. You’re a fool. Good day to both of you.”

  Renasi pulled open the door; she swept past him. Over his shoulder, as if it did not matter, he asked, “Will you betray us to the Assembly?”

  Pillyn had turned her back. With his eyes on her, Temhas replied, “No. No, of course not.” The door banged. Hayseed whined and scratched at it.

  Temhas paced to the other side of the room and halted in front of the desk. He steeled himself to look at the young man’s portrait. “Rendell,” he said out loud. “What decision do you think our brother here would have made, if they had come to him?”

  “Will you be silent! What if someone hears you?”

  “It’s time someone did hear it. The day you’ve planned for these last eighteen years is here, the way has walked right in your door, and you’re turning it down.”

  “I have to.”

  “Why? Eighteen years you’ve prayed to Nialia, ‘Restore him to his rightful place.’ I don’t understand you. For eighteen years you’ve refused to tell even Paither the truth about himself.”

  “I have to protect him,” she said, her chin down on her chest. “Didn’t you hear? They killed Sillus’s daughter. If the Mendales knew there was a true relas of Lindahne still alive...”

  “Pillyn. You do want him to be king?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes. Dalleena-relas said he was born of Nialia’s will, that the goddess intended him to serve his people.”

  “Then tell me, how do you think it will come about?”

  She was silent.

  “The Mendales aren’t going to just pack up one day and ride off. That girl was right. Lindahne will only be restored to itself by the sword. By fighting. By war.”

  “By death, you mean!”

  “Listen to me. I was a soldier, too. An army needs a good leader to follow, but it also needs a symbol to believe in and fight for. As the acknowledged relas, Paither would be both.”

  “No, no, he –”

  “You haven’t even told him! He has a right to decide for himself. The poor boy thinks he’s a Mendale, or a halfer at least. What do you think that’s doing to his soul?”

  She lifted her face to stare at him.

  “Do you think I don’t know how it feels to be torn? To be forever in the wrong place?” he asked in bitterness. “Don’t torment him, Pilla.” He glanced again at the portrait. “You owe it to Rendall to tell his son –”

  “How dare you,” she said, in low-voiced fury. “How dare you talk about owing Rendell anything!”

  His head jerked back as if she had struck him; his eyes dilated. “Oh, no,” she half-sobbed, in horrified contrition, and put out a hand, but he stepped past her. At the door, he swung himself into a low, insolent bow.

  “Good day, mistress! A pleasant even’ to you.”

  He crashed the door on her pleading. Something warm pushed against her legs. She went to her knees and buried her face in the dog’s thick coat.

  Chapter 3

  – from the Lindahne Book of the Gods

  In the Hallway of the Gods the divine couple rules, Proseras god of Wisdom and Nialia goddess of Fate. They are the royals of the heavens, and the other gods do honor them, even as mortals bow down to the gods. By their will the winged birds fly the currents of the air, and the thousand fish swim below the unending Sea, and the animals roam upon the earth. Such is the lesser life, which gives pleasure to divine Proseras.

  And the people beloved of the gods live within the sheltered Hills of Lindahne, in the cradle of Mother Nialia. For she of Fate had shaped earth and fire, and Proseras of Wisdom brought cloud and running water, and so they crafted the Man and Woman, who are one in birth and love and death. Then had the people prospered, and spread upon the Hills, and they honored the gods before all things.

  Yet to the new people the gods seemed great and terrible, as the angry parent to the small child. They trembled when Proseras divine one came among them, and hid their faces from him in their fear. Now Nialia was grieved, and said unto her husband, “Look you, how the people do turn from us. Yet I have been bountiful, and sheltered them, and loved them as mine own.”

  “Wife,” said he of Wisdom, “true life they are, for we have given them souls to honor us, and hearts to give thanks. But they have not words nor proper teachings, and are ignorant. Go you and find them one to lead them into divine light, for they live now in shadow.”

  Then Nialia came to the First Hill, where stood her temple, built of shining marble by divine Thaedra, son of the Mother’s son. Yet no offerings were made upon the earth; no sacred altar stood to worship her, for the people had not words nor proper teachings, and were ignorant. She of Fate called to the mists, and drew them about her shoulders as a cloak to hide her divinity.

  And she roamed upon the Hillside, and found the people working and not working, sleeping and not sleeping, at play and not at play, as is their wont. Then one she saw, sitting beyond alone, a woman weeping. Nialia wrapped in mist went to her and said, “Why will you weep? For the grass is upon the earth, and the waters do flow. The thousand fish swim the Sea, and the winged birds fly upon the currents of the air. All is well with us.”

  “Nay,” said the mortal.“All is not well, for we are without the divine ones. The immortal Mother speaks to us not. We are without her words, and are ignorant.” And she wept bitterly.

  Now Nialia was well-pleased with her words, and she said unto her, “Arise then, and hear the words of Fate. Receive the teachings, and lead mine own to light, for they live now in shadow.” And Nialia cast off the mists, and stood revealed in her power.

  But the mortal woman cried aloud in fear, for she would not take such a task. And the Mother grew angry, for she offered a great gift, but the woman cried out, “Divine one! Queen of the gods, I would not take such a task. For the grass is upon the earth, and all is well with us.”

  And Nialia was cold in her fury, and answered, “Then will you live in shadow, until the last of your days.” And the woman cried out once more, and hid her face, for the goddess had struck her blind.

  Now the mortal woman walked upon the Hill, and stumbled, and held her hands before her, weeping piteously from eyes that did not see. Yet no help came, for she was one alone. The moon rose and fell a thousand times, and the stars shone and faded, yet she knew neither day nor night. At last her feet found cold marble, and she crept within high walls. On her knees she lifted up her hands to the Mother and cried, “Queen of all! Do you have mercy upon me, for I have no words and am in ignorance. I would live no longer in darkness.”

  She of Fate was moved by her repentance, and said to her, “Stretch out your hands.”

  The woman did so, and her hands found scrolls and pen, and a high marble table to lean upon. And the goddess said, “You are the First Priestess, who will lead mine own to light. Receive now the teachings of Fate.”

  Now all through the long darkness the mortal woman recorded the divine words, that the people would know the ways of proper worship. Came then the first light, and the goddess said, “Live no more in shadow.” And the woman looked, and saw the temple of Nialia about her, and beneath her hands she leaned upon a sacred altar.

  She rose, and gave thanks, and went among the people, saying, “Hear then the words of the goddess.” And she gathered to her priestesses of worship, the women of prophecy, who are called the Nialians. And they bring the words of the goddess, for they hear her divine voice. All through the long light of one day the people gave thanks. And when the evening came on once more, the First Priestess sang the first song of Sunset. She returned to the altar, and
gave the proper sacrifice. The Mother came to her and said, “Fated were you, first one, to live in shadow until the very last of your days. For you have done the task I set upon you, and have no more need of mortal time.” Then Nialia, calling up the ever-burning fire, proclaimed a new dawning upon the darkling hills, for the bright Sun is the firebrand the gods raise over the earth.

  And the first Priestess dared to lift her eyes, and she looked upon the face of the goddess, and was glad. Then did the Mother take her to the divine halls, for she had lived the last of her days.

  Yet time continued its passing, counting the many hours. And from that day to this, the Nialians have brought the words of the divine Mother to our Hills. But it is said vigilance flagged, and the sacred writings were lost to us, for mortal folly corrupts all gifts of the gods. Still Nialia does not forsake her people, and the lore of worship lives in memory upon her Hills, passed from generation to generation. Thus it shall always be, forever and to come.

  Chapter 4

  The ranking, commander of the Twelfth Archery Band, was eager to move out, though Chilhi Bhanay was anxious. “Straighten that line,” Scayna heard her say, as a restless horse

  moved too far forward. “You’re professional archers now, about to serve in the capital. Show some pride.” “Pride,” her father repeated, with a gruff laugh. “Just count your pay, girl.”

  Quienos and Daana had come to see the Band off. Scayna, like the other archers, was already mounted. Her parents were on foot on either side. She fidgeted in the saddle. The others’ relatives had long since gone.

  She had not had a dark for many days. Maybe I’m finally getting better, she thought. Maybe I’ll really be well. After six years of it...

  It had begun in the same year her child’s body began to grow to womanhood. At first, it had been knowledge of the future: of a coming visitor or the death of a cow, even knowing it would rain when the sky was yet cloudless, or –

 

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