A Woman's World

by Lynne Hill-Clark

  “Why? What’s so great about Lua?”

  “She’s the oldest mistress here and obviously powerful.”

  “So someday we’ll be the oldest and —”

  “Then we’ll be in control.” The girl started walking again.

  “You mean then we’ll be the bullies.” Baya saw the cycle clearly.

  “Oh yeah. Payback time. I hope to become Unawi just so I can make mean girls like Lua pay.”

  This didn’t sound right. “But…” Baya couldn’t find the right words. “Then you’ll be just like Lua.”

  “Yeah, that’s the point.”

  “But Lua is … mean.”

  “So?”

  Baya shook her head in disbelief as she followed after the girl. All she understood was that she did not want to be like Lua.

  The girl stopped at the very last door at the end of the long hall. “You’re the newest, so you get this room. When we come back from the Holidays, they assign us new rooms. The longer you’re here, your room will move farther down the hall. Lua’s room is the one closest to the common room.”

  That made sense, Baya thought. She opened the door and the girl turned to leave. “Can I at least get your name?”

  “Fay.”

  The next thing Baya knew, she was alone in a tiny room. A single bed and a simple wooden desk lined one wall and … not much else. The walls were black stone, like everywhere else in the palace. A slender rectangular window on the far wall let in some light. In only a couple of paces Baya was peering out of it, or rather, up through it.

  The girls’ quarters were in the top part of the diamond-shaped palace. Not as high up as the Great Hall, which was in the very top but still in the upper half. So, the wall was slanted at the far end of her room and when she peered out the opening all she could see was the purple sky above.

  Baya sat down hard on the bed and gripped the mattress until her knuckles turned white. She was trapped in this small dark space, unable to see out. Her mother’s home was spacious and open, a place where she could always see her surroundings through numerous large windows.

  Rus and Bek had always been there to reassure her, to care for her, to make her feel loved. Even her mother, in her own way, cared deeply for her. But now she was on her own.

  Hate seemed to pulse through this place, from Lua all the way down to Fay. Baya’s legs were telling her to run — run home. It was only just over… Baya frantically looked around.

  With all the twists and turns she had taken in the palace she had no idea where home was. “What if I can’t find my way out of here?” she whispered.

  Pulling her knees to her chest, she sat on the bed in a tight ball. She had managed to keep her head held high during all she had been through that morning but now she dropped her forehead to her knees and rocked.

  Back and Forth.

  Baya didn’t know how much time had passed when she finally looked up. To her surprise there were two doors. The one she had come in and one right next to it. A closet.

  She ran to it, stumbling over her gown, and threw the door open. Her trunk! Of course Rus would have packed it for her and it would have already been delivered to her room by one of Shema’s theos.

  There was barely enough room in the tiny closet for her wooden trunk. She opened it straight away. Her best gowns lay folded neatly inside. She hung them on hooks. As she pulled the last gown out, she noticed that the bottom of the trunk contained many objects.

  One item was her favorite orange blanket that she used to always sleep with. In fact, there was a time when she couldn’t sleep at all unless she had it. The trunk also contained a pillow that Bek had made. It had been his first sewing lesson. It was crude and now well-worn but it was the best pillow in the world — to Baya.

  Wooden figurines, roughly resembling animals, were also included in the contents of the trunk. Rus had carved them many years ago. The paint was chipped in places as she and Bek used to play with them a lot.

  Numerous scrolls were in the bottom of the trunk — many of them were the drawings she had hung on her walls back home. Plus, she found some new ones — drawings and scripts from Bek. One of the new ones contained the symbol for longing. He was telling her that he already missed her.

  Baya’s eyes burned with tears, as she traced the lines of the simple, yet elegant symbol. The last item was a small jar filled with a golden amber substance. It was a sticky tree-sap mixture used to fasten parchments to walls.

  Perfect!

  In no time, the black walls were covered with colorful scrolls. She lined the figurines on top of the desk and spread the colorful orange blanket across her bed. She took out what remained of the flowers in her hair and hung them upside down on the wall, like she’d seen Rus do with plants in his kitchen. They would dry nicely and add even more color to the bleak room.

  The last touch was her pillow. It had once been a bright blue but had since faded to a greyish color. She held it to her face and inhaled deeply. It smelled of home, which was a stark contrast to this stale place.

  Baya smiled with great satisfaction, as she placed the pillow on her bed and looked around her new room. Much better — livable anyway. It was not as nice as, or even close to the size of, her old room but she could feel Rus and Bek with her. Her mother and even the Unawi had once occupied this room. This offered some comfort.

  This time when she looked up to the skylight, she was grateful for the light it let in.

  Baya imagined that Rus was looking up at the same clear sky. She could almost hear his voice, “You can do this.”

  “Can I?” she asked the sky.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning Baya followed her fellow mistresses to a spacious room with long wooden tables and benches, where they were served breakfast. Dim torchlight glistened off the drab obsidian walls.

  Would she ever get used to this gloomy place?

  Baya sat alone and poked at her porridge with her spoon. She had no idea where to go for her lessons so she waited for what seemed like an eternity for someone to head to class.

  In silence, she followed the first girls to leave the refectory.

  They led her to another large room that was arranged with rows of numerous wooden benches — no tables. The ceilings were low and one wall was lined with many windows. Real windows, not skylights.

  This must mean that she was in the middle of the building. The bases of the two pyramids joined to form a thick belt in the middle of the diamond-shaped palace. This allowed for normal windows that looked out over Una Sitka.

  Baya immediately took a seat in the very back. As more girls trickled in, no one sat next to her. The other girls talked loudly and freely with one another and every one of them acted as if Baya was not there — which Baya was surprisingly fine with. At least they weren’t being outright mean to her.

  A handful of them threw balls of crumpled parchment at one another as they giggled and laughed.

  When Unawi Shema entered the room the mistresses transformed into silent statues. They sat with straight backs and their hands folded in their laps, chins up. Baya glanced around and quickly emulated them.

  “Praise to the Almighty Ameris,” Shema greeted them.

  Every girl got to her knees and raised her arms to the sky. “May She always protect us from harm and provide us with another blessed day,” the mistresses chanted in unison.

  Baya had barely gotten to her knees when the girls returned to their benches. She had all but missed the brief morning prayer ritual.

  How embarrassing. She would have to get the hang of that.

  “Older girls, go with Priestess Aga for your inflection practice. The younger girls will stay with me, for a history lesson.”

  One of the girls seated in front of Baya moaned. “Not another boring history class. I can’t wait to learn inflection,” she whispered to her friend.

  Baya looked around for her mother and found her standing in the doorway. She wanted to run to her and throw her arms around her, whic
h was something Baya had never done before.

  Aga greeted Baya with a slight nod before leading the older girls out of the room.

  Not even a hello, Baya thought. An icy loneliness moved through her. She supposed that it was best if Aga didn’t draw attention to her. Baya tried to brush away her disappointment by turning her attention to Shema. The lonely feeling was replaced by envy, as she listened to the lovely woman. She wondered why the Unawi didn’t have her pet wrapped around her today.

  “The first Unawi to rule Pathins was indeed the Great Goddess Ameris herself,” Shema began her lecture. “She purged this island of all predatory beasts by filling the air with smoke from her hands — driving them into the sea. She then placed a protective shield around our land.” Shema paced in front of the class.

  “My priestesses and I continue this tradition by maintaining the protective shield. That is what keeps us safe from the wild and dangerous world that lies beyond Pathins.” Shema eyed the class critically. “Can anyone tell me how we create the shield?”

  Baya knew the answer. This was the most important part of Aga’s job. But Baya was not about to open her mouth. The last thing that would help her would be to come across as a know-it-all.

  “It takes a morning and an afternoon ritual. This must be performed every day.” Fay’s smug expression made it clear that she was proud of herself.

  “That is correct. And how many does it take to accomplish this?”

  “Nine,” another girl blurted.

  Fay glared at the girl, as her mouth had been open — no doubt Fay was about to give the answer.

  “Very good. It takes eight priestesses as well as myself to accomplish this task. The safety of the entire island depends on it. That is why I keep twelve priestesses on hand at all times, in case one is absent.” Shema let out a heavy sigh. “That is a luxury that I do not have. The Unawi must be present at every ritual — two times a day. And that is every day out of every year …”

  Shema shook her head. “But that is a small price to pay in the service of the Great Goddess …”

  Baya felt a twinge of pity for Shema. Being the Unawi must be difficult.

  Her mind drifted as Shema preceded to cover the origin of life. She couldn’t believe that this needed to be taught. Everyone knew how Ameris created life, didn’t they? Aga had first taught Baya this when she was five years old. The memory flowed back …

  “Why can’t I be outside with Bek?” This was how most of Baya’s lessons would start.

  “Your education is vastly important,” Aga would say. “Now tell me what this symbol means.” She pointed to a rough-drawn figure of a shapely woman on the unrolled scroll.

  But Baya gazed out the window. Bek was making mud pies, while Rus tended to the garden. She longed to have her hands in the gooey mud.

  “Baya! Focus.”

  Baya sighed and turned her attention to the scroll laid out before her. “That’s Ameris’s symbol.”

  “Very good. And who is Ameris?”

  Baya moaned before answering. “The Creator of all womankind.”

  “Correct again. What does it say here?”

  Baya struggled to make out the ancient text. “Something about women coming from … dirt.”

  Aga chuckled. “Yes, Ameris shaped the first women from the earth and gave them life. She created us in her own image. But the merciful Goddess didn’t want her beloved daughters to be alone so she created men from the sea. You see, it says that right here.” Aga pointed to the text. “From the day men were created they were meant to serve women,” she read out loud.

  Baya shook her head to bring herself back to the present. The backless wooden bench was uncomfortable. She forced herself to listen to the Unawi but Shema was still covering old material. At least none of it was new to Baya. A yawn threatened to give her boredom away.

  It was all she could do not to move to the window. She desperately wanted to get her bearings. This place was suffocating. Baya was lost — imprisoned — in this palace and she still had no idea where her home was or how to get out of here.

  Yet, she didn’t dare get out of her seat for fear of drawing unwanted attention. Her mind wandered again, as she pondered inflection and what that would entail. She still had much to learn and sitting in this lecture was a waste of time.

  Chapter 6

  When Shema finally finished speaking, Baya’s lower back ached from sitting on the wooden bench. She all but jumped to her feet when Shema dismissed them. The other mistresses steered clear of Baya as they left the room. She didn’t know where to go or what to do next, so she followed the others, keeping her distance.

  They headed back to the large eating room. As soon as the girls sat down, theos brought in large platters of food. Silverware and a plate were placed in front of Baya. The nearest girl sat at least three feet away.

  Baya picked at her food. It wasn’t anywhere near as good as Rus’s cooking.

  As soon as a couple of girls finished eating and headed out of the refectory, Baya followed after them. She remained several paces behind. Never before had she felt like she didn’t belong but the feeling of being an outcast couldn’t be ignored.

  They led her down many different stairs and hallways. Baya tried to memorize the path. When they came to the palace entryway, Baya’s heart leapt.

  The gardens!

  Relief flooded through her as sunshine hit her face. The clear purple sky and fresh air consumed her — instantly melting away the feeling of being confined and lost.

  She wandered the gardens alone for a time. In the distance she watched a group of girls chatting away. Their merriment caused Baya’s jaw to tighten, so she headed for the other side of the vast grounds.

  At least she could get away from everyone — even if only for a little while.

  Baya stopped to admire the blue and purple flowers with their spiky petals that jutted outward in every direction. They were by far the most beautiful thing in the garden, which was really saying something, as every plant was glorious.

  Baya felt someone watching her. She turned to find the handsome garden boy staring at her. He stood twenty paces away. His head instantly lowered and he spun on his heel.

  “Wait!” Baya’s heart jolted as excitement consumed her. Perhaps she could find someone to talk to in this place after all.

  The boy stopped immediately. He would have to do as she asked. Yet he kept his back to her.

  Baya ran to him. “I’m Baya.” She moved to stand in front of him.

  “I … know.”

  Baya waited for him to offer his name but instead received awkward silence.

  “What can I get for you?” he finally asked.

  “Get? … I don’t need anything.”

  He gave a stiff nod. “Then I’ll be going.” He sidestepped her.

  “Okay, there is something …” Baya spoke quickly, anything to get him to stay.

  The boy stopped again.

  “Well … as you can see, I don’t have any friends in this place and well … you look like you’re alone.”

  He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to get to the point.

  “Umm …” Baya didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t have much experience talking to strangers.

  “I’m not alone. I have Azod.”

  “Who’s Azod?”

  The boy shifted uncomfortably. “He’s the head gardener … and my caregiver.”

  Baya exhaled, relieved that he was talking. “And he does an amazing job.”

  “The best in all the land,” the boy’s almond-shaped eyes sparkled with pride.

  “Obviously.” Baya looked around at their immaculate surroundings. Spotting the lovely spiky flower she pointed to it. “What’s that called?”

  The boy stood frozen where she had last stopped him as if he were not allowed to move unless she said so. “It’s a waset.”

  “Thank you. See? Talking to me isn’t so hard, is it?”

  “Do you like flowers?” His shoulders
seemed to relax a bit.

  “Of course, who doesn’t?”

  “But you seem really interested in plants. I mean, more so than most girls.”

  “I would love to know more about plants. I used to spend lots of time with my mother’s theo in his garden … when I was younger. That was before my schooling, back when I had more time. Anyway, I enjoyed it.”

  “But women don’t garden.”

  “Well. Maybe I’ll become a gardener someday.” She gave a playful wave of her hand. “The first woman gardener!” Baya laughed.

  For the first time, the slightest smile crossed his full lips. “That would really be something, the daughter of a priestess gardening.” He pointed to a flower. “That one over there, that’s a saper. And over there … those are called hanu.” He appeared to like it that he knew more about something than she did.

  Baya smiled at the light that shone in his honey-colored eyes. “What’s that one?” She wanted to keep him talking and keep that light in his eyes.

  He gave her a tour of the grounds, telling her all about the different plants. “There are two major types of plants, those valued for their beauty and those that hold purpose.”

  “Purpose?” Baya asked.

  “You know, we make teas, medicines and spices out of them.”

  “Oh, right.” Rus always had plants drying in the kitchen that he used to make their morning teas and as seasonings for their food. It truly was a man’s work. Baya knew very little about the herbs and plants that Rus grew.

  “Yet some plants are very special.”

  Baya looked at him with wide, interested eyes. She noticed that his breath hitched as he studied her.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s … your eyes. They’re brown … no, they’re green … or gold?”

  Baya chuckled. “They’re actually all three colors.” She cleared her throat, even though she didn’t need to. “You were saying some plants are special.”

  He shook his head. “Oh right, because they are lovely and they serve a purpose or even several purposes. Like Lav.” He pointed to a patch of thin stemmed plants with an elongated tuft of purple flowers on top. “Lav is ornamental and has several uses. It’s most often used for its potent smell in soaps, or in fragrance bowls for the home. And it can also be used to flavor teas.”