by Diana Rivers
Chapter Nineteen
Eezore was burning below us and I was caught by the sight as if by a great rapture. But it was hate, not love or joy that flowed up in my heart. Those who had chased us and harried us from place to place seeking our deaths, were now the ones scurrying about down there, trying to save their own homes and hides. A demon of satisfaction burned in my heart at the sight.
It had taken all of Pell’s abilities as leader to gather us together out of the chaos and confusion at the gates. She had done it mostly with Hereschell’s help. Her captains were too spelled by Shalamith’s voice to be of much use. Instead of leaving by any of the valley roads, we had followed Hereschell up a short steep way into the hills. Our horses were quickly winded by the climb. Near the top we had all stopped to rest them, regroup ourselves and look back at the burning city. The others had soon seen enough. They were ready to move on, especially the new ones, who were in a frenzy to put as much distance as possible between them and Eezore. I knew I should go with them, yet I could not tear myself away.
I had crept out to the edge of a bluff for a better view and was watching greedily, my terrors finally appeased. One after the other they had all urged me to go, Jhemar, Kazouri, Zenoria. Even Hereschell tried. I did not turn my head to look at him. I was too rapt by the sight of the fires below me. Finally Rishka crawled out on the ledge by me. I could feel her tugging at my arm. She kept saying, “Come, Terrazen, this is no place to die. We have too much else to do.”
I shook my head. I could not move from there. “I will come soon,” I told her. “I only need to watch a little longer.”
Pell even tried to command me by saying, “As your captain I order you to leave at once!” But what good are commands for those who cannot be compelled.
One by one they all began to leave, saying it was too dangerous to stay, warning me that soon we would be hunted there. I hardly noticed their departure. Alyeeta was the last of them. I was so rapt I neither heard nor sensed her as she stepped up beside me till she gripped my arm and shook me. “Tazzia, Daughter, you are fire-spelled. Four times I have spoken to you with no reply. Come away from here. This sight is sickening your soul. Your anger rides uneasy with your power this night.” Her voice was full of love and concern for me. I had no wish to feel it.
Without turning I answered, “No, I cannot. I must stay and watch the evil that is Eezore bum itself out.”
At those words Alyeeta gave a short explosive burst of laughter. “The what that is what do what?!” she exclaimed. Then she added with all of her usual mockery, “Indeed, child, now that would be a long wait. You might be windblown bones before that time. It will not happen this night, not with little thief-set trash fires. Eezore will not go under in this generation nor even in the next. I, for one, will not live to see it. You star-brats have many miles to ride and much living to do before you can meet Eezore’s power with your own. Come with me now, Tazzi. There are many other roads still ahead of us.”
“Soon,” I said, “Soon I will come to meet you. Soon. Leave me for now. This is a thing I must see. I am no child, Alyeeta, I can take care of myself.”
“No one who is caught in the spell of a compulsion can take care of themselves. Tazzi, you are not sane at this moment. If you have ever loved me, child, come away with me now, for this is a very dangerous place to be. Even now they may be riding up these very roads in search of us.”
“Enough, Witch! Go! Leave me be! I will meet you at Hamiuri’s shelter.”
There was a silence then that made my hair go up. This time I turned. Alyeeta stood with her hand raised as if to strike me. She dropped her hand, shrugged and turned away. I heard her call softly to her pony and felt her mind-reach for him. When she had gone I was so glad to be alone I did not have the sense to be afraid. I did not even see at that moment how she had laid out her love before me to be trampled.
How long did I lie there watching with bitter pleasure, mindlessly gorging myself, feasting on the sight? By the time I heard them it was already too late. The light of a torch flashed across me. There were shouts. Lying flat that way had been willfully stupid. I struggled up, stiff from the cold rock and went stumbling through the dark, running in a half crouch to leap on Marshlegs’s back. The light of the torch caught me again just as I reached her and managed to scramble up. I heard one of them shout, “The horse, shoot the horse! For the sake of your lives do not shoot at the Witch. Shoot the horse!”
Their torches were raised all around me. I heard the whistle of arrows and the terrible dull thuds as those arrows hit living flesh. With a frightful scream Marshlegs reared up, shuddered and sank beneath me. I had only an instant to jump clear or I would have been crushed under her falling body. As I leapt back, I felt her hot blood splatter on my hands and face.
In that instant Marshlegs was gone and I was surrounded. With no time for thought, I plunged headlong into the thickest underbrush where their horses could not follow, passing so close I felt the breath of one of their horses on my cheek as I went. Behind me I could hear the men cursing and stumbling. Their searching lights made dizzying flashes through the trees. Now that they were unhorsed I had to trust to my better night sight and knowledge of woods to see me through. It was all I had. They were many to my one, and I was already exhausted from the night.
My only thought was to keep moving. Several times I scrambled dangerously close to the curving bluff edge. Once I heard a man scream as he went over. The chase seemed endless. I tripped over roots and ran headlong into rocks. Branches whipped across my face. Keep moving! Keep moving! the voices in my head shouted. I could still hear my pursuers in back of me. Whenever some tired and fell back, there always seemed to be more of them to take up my trail. Finally I lost them in the night, but I think my own fear drove me on long afterward.
It took three days of stumbling about in the forest to find Hamiuri’s hut, much of the time probably spent floundering in circles. At that, I did not really find it. I was the one found by a young woman. I was on a path nearby, crouching in hiding, huddled behind some rocks. She came directly toward me as if she could see right through the rocks. I might have run from her also, but I could not run anymore, could not summon the will for it.
“Come, come, do not be so frightened,” she said softly, reaching out her hand. “I will take you to Hamiuri. She will be pleased. We have been searching for you everywhere.” Beyond fear now, I took her hand and went with her like a small child.
Hamiuri did not look pleased at all. She was standing in her doorway with fire in her eyes as she stared at me. As the young woman helped me in Hamiuri stepped aside, shaking her head, “I told you I could feel her nearby. Get her in a chair while she still has legs under her.” With a groan I sank into the cushions like a sack of grain.
Hamiuri moved to stand in front of me with her hands on her hips. “Fool! Fool! Fool! Have you had enough of gazing on the fires of victory? Look at you all covered with mud and blood and filth. You should be left outside for the rains to clean off. Understand, young woman, it is not your life alone you risk by such folly, it is all of ours. All of ours! You could have led that pack of slavering hounds right to my door. Goddess knows, they may yet come.”
I held up my shaking hands to ward off her words, “Please, Hamiuri, please, not now. I have had more than enough for the moment.”
“Have you now? Well, what a shame, for I am only just beginning.”
To my surprise the young woman stepped between us, faced Hamiuri and said with authority, “Enough, Hamiuri, enough for now. We can talk about it all later.”
I was even more surprised when Hamiuri shrugged and said, “You are right, Olna. Enough said for now.” Then to me she added gruffly, “There is a pot of hot water there for washing. Leave those filthy clothes in a pile by the door. When you are finished there is some soup heating in that pot that will help you sleep.” She turned her back on me and walked away, saying, “Some heads are hard, some lessons are hard learned.”
I t
ried to do as she told me but the clothes clung to me, wet and muddy or stiff with blood. My hands shook on the fastenings. “Wait,” the young woman said, “let me help you.” I was amazed at the gentleness of her hands as she peeled off that ruin of clothes and the healing force in them as she carefully sponged away the mud, dirt, blood and weariness with warm, sweet-scented water. “I am Olna the Witch,” she told me as she worked. With that I understood that she was probably not the dovelike young woman she appeared to be.
When she finished, she slipped a soft robe around me and said, “Sit there,” pointing to a little stool by the fire. I held the warmth of the bowl in my hands and would have fallen asleep staring into the steam if she had not reminded me again and again to eat while she ran a comb through my leaf-tangled hair. When I lay down on a mat by the wall I was gone into sleep before she could step away.
Later, when I woke aching all over, I saw my clothes washed and hung to dry on a rack of branches, the worst of the tears neatly mended. Olna was on her feet in an instant and called out to Hamiuri who came to stare down at me with no kindness in her face. “Good, you are awake and I hope in some shape to take care of yourself. Useless as you are, still we must get you back to your own. I think they will soon be moving on. You need to go with them. That will take some horses if we can find them. Hamiuri the Witch certainly has no intention of being your caretaker for long.
“While we are gone, stay out of trouble if that is possible. We have had trouble enough already because of you. Do not play the fool again, understand?” I lowered my eyes and nodded silently.
Olna came and put salve on my cuts and bruises. I saw her wincing with the pain it cost me to be touched. Gently she stroked my hair and back and said some soothing words in my ear. My heart contracted, and tears filled my eyes. In some ways Olna’s kindness hurt even more than Hamiuri’s angry reproaches. I knew only too well I did not deserve such kindness. Nothing Hamiuri said could be bad enough to touch my own self-loathing. This talk of horses brought back Marshlegs’ death and my own part in it.
While Hamiuri was scolding me I had vowed silently to myself that I would not set foot outside her hut when she was gone, not even for the call of necessity; I had seen a pot for that purpose under the bed. As soon as they left however, a demon of restlessness took hold of me. I found myself pacing around in the small confines of that space, back and forth, back and forth. Now that I was alone, Marshlegs’s death and the manner of it preyed on me. “Shoot the horse! Shoot the horse!” echoed in my head. Over and over I heard the sound of arrows and her final scream. Your fault, the air around me hissed, your fault, your fault, your fault.
Hamiuri’s hut had not much room for pacing. It was different from Alyeeta’s in every way, all stark, plain and bare, no dark hidden corners or secret places, everything in it could be seen at a glance. A small, six-sided building, almost circular in shape, it was made of rough white-washed stone and crude timbers.
The furnishings were as humble as the but except for the wall opposite the door. There a tall wardrobe of dark wood loomed over the room, looking strangely out of place. I had seen something like it once when I had gone to do a healing at the headman’s house in another village. Next to it was a bureau of the same dark wood that was evidently used as an altar, the surface being covered with ritual objects. These two together near filled that portion of the wall. Both were of fine make with deeply carved corners, clearly salvaged from some other time in Hamiuri’s life.
My eyes were caught by a peculiar darkened glass standing on the bureau. It reflected things as the surface of a pond reflects and held a double of everything in the room. Several times I had been startled by the sight of my own movement flashing across its face. When my grief began to weary itself, I found myself drawn to that strange glass and at last came to sit on the bench before it. I had never had much chance to look at myself and so stared with interest at this person that others saw. Leaning forward I looked deep into her eyes, made faces, turned as far as I could one way and then the other, gestured with my hands. She, of course, copied everything I did.
I must have passed some time occupied in this way when I began to sense another’s presence in the room, yet each time I turned there was nothing. There was nothing in the corners of the glass either, however deeply I peered. Still I could feel it stronger and stronger—that insistent tapping on my awareness—the pull and energy of life, of another’s presence. At last my attention was drawn to a big-lidded basket on the floor next to the bureau.
It was a very ordinary basket, a basket such as market women use to carry their wares. There was a slight sound from it like fabric moving against fabric. Very cautiously I unlatched and opened the lid to peer in. Instantly there was a hiss and a large snake raised its head out of the darkness, then a second, and a third. No chance of shutting the lid again, that was clear. I stepped back quickly and with some alarm. With all that had happened to me I had lost the fearless innocence of my childhood. Besides, these were by far the largest snakes I had ever seen. Snakes and human, we regarded each other for a while with mutual wariness. Then the first of them bent forward and poured herself out of her basket, coming straight for me. I sat back down on the bench. There was nowhere in that hut to run even if I had chosen to do so. The snake did not hesitate. Now that she had made her decision she seemed to have lost all fear of me. All in one motion she slithered onto the floor, moved up my leg, slid into my lap, and crawled up to drape herself across my shoulders. I sat very still, trying to breathe normally while she settled herself in what must have been her accustomed place. She was cool and heavy, smooth as water and beautifully marked in bands of bright color. After my first rush of fear passed I soon grew accustomed to her weight. The snakes appeared quite old and perhaps even fangless. Still I was very glad to see the other two choose their places on the altar.
Now I had company and a diversion of sorts. My reflection in the glass was far more interesting. “You are very grand and fearsome,” I said to my reflected companion. “You could scare away a whole company of guards.” She arched her neck and wove her head from side to side as if bowing to the snake in the glass.
On the surface in front of me I now noticed a small painted carving of a Goddess, or Priestess, or Witch, in a long patterned robe with snakes wound around her arms and one around her neck whose head rose arched and hooded over hers in a sort of headdress, much like the snake I myself wore at that moment. With excitement, I leaned forward to examine her robe more closely. It was a thing of splendor, like nothing I had ever seen before. Having already trespassed this far, I began to wonder if there was anything in that dark wardrobe as fine as what the little statue wore? Or did it hold nothing but more of Hamiuri’s dull brown clothes behind the temptation of its closed doors? When it seemed safe to do so I unwound my friend from my shoulders and lowered her carefully, coil by coil to join her companions on the altar. Then I went to stand before those forbidding doors. I could sense nothing living there, yet I hesitated. I almost sat down again. Then, in one quick gesture, I turned the handle to fling them open.
I sucked in my breath. Robe after robe hung there, bright colors, heavy fabric, rich embroidery, and the flash of metal. These were even finer than what the little statue wore. Above them on a shelf were headdresses, sashes, breast plates, necklaces and much else. I stood transfixed, staring at it all. Of course, after a while of staring, nothing would do but that I must try something on. Only one, I promised myself, only one. What harm could there be in that? Then I would replace it carefully, shut the doors and be done with my prying, for Hamiuri might be back at any moment now. Perhaps I could even coil the snakes back into their basket and be seated at the hearth, drinking tea or dozing in a chair when Olna and Hamiuri returned.
Soon I had the bed littered with robes and was turning myself about this way and that in front of the glass. I tried on headdresses, a necklace, a breastplate. I even darkened my eyes and reddened my lips from some of the paint pots on the altar.
Dancing about with my reflection as a young lady from one of the Great-Houses might have done, I forgot everything I should have been remembering.
Just as it turned dusk, my reflection began to fade. With that, some sense returned to my head. I was about to light a lamp and turn to quickly repairing the damage I had done when suddenly a chill of fear ran up my spine. Hamiuri! I thought, frantically readying myself to rush about and make order. Then instantly I knew it was not Hamiuri. It was not trouble.
It was danger, danger advancing, danger all around. Quickly I ran to peer out the windows. I could see nothing but trees in deepening gloom. Still, the sense of danger thickened with each moment. The snakes that had been dozing, coiled around each other, now raised their heads. Turning from side to side they spread their hoods and hissed as if at an intruder. At that moment I smelled smoke and then I knew—men and fire—they had come for me. They had been moving in to trap me while I had been playing at being a lady, trap me as Maireth and Shaleethia had been trapped in that barn.
As I could still see nothing in the outer world, I cupped my hands over my pendant, shut my eyes and stood very still, staring into the inner dark. Doing that, I felt rather than saw them, a large number of men advancing stealthily to surround the hut. No doubt they wanted to burn me alive if they could, or rather to bum us alive, for it was likely they thought to catch many of us there. They would hardly have moved so carefully or mounted so large as force against one star-brat. They were coming slowly, probably struggling against the force of their own fears as well as the protective power of the house. Sooner or later, however, I knew they would close that circle of fire if I could not find a way to stop them.
I lit a lamp. As the flame flared up, my eye was caught by the statue of the Goddess with her raised snakes. Blazing in the shimmer of the light she looked huge with a great shadow looming behind her. Looking at her I suddenly had my plan.