‘It has never been easy for our Clan, Kassien,’ said Hallen. ‘We hoped by throwing in our lot with Ysse that we would finally have a chance at better lands, better weapons, better trade – a fragment of the Everien jewel. We have done everything right. We have adopted the sword, the common language, the Eye system. We have sent our men to Ajiko’s army and we have succeeded in getting a Bear on the throne at Jai Khalar. But where does all this get us? The Wolves maybe no longer persecute us, and we have more goods than before, but our sons are all gone to war, leaving their children unprotected. Look at your Clan sisters, Kassien! Why is Sylden hammering at the forge? Why does Dhien have to carry a dagger? It is a disgrace; it is unnatural; and now in our homeland we must hunt Sekk when we should be hunting our meat.’
Kassien said, ‘You will not like living in the wild lands. All of you are accustomed to comforts. You expect access to medicine, and lights for the long winter nights, and horses and goods from Pharice. There will be none of these things in the forests of the wild lands, only wild Wolves who will take the women for their own and make them servants, and relentless winter cold, and no herds at all.’
‘We are not afraid,’ said Dhien stoutly. ‘We will go back to the land sooner than see any more bloodshed for the sake of the Knowledge.’
‘Go to Jai Khalar,’ Istar urged. ‘You can shelter there while Lerien regroups the armies. Petition to have your warriors sent back to their own villages! Fight for the way of life you want; don’t simply vanish into the forest.’
Siaren shook her head. ‘Jai Khalar is already overburdened with landless folk. They are spoonfed and coddled and the men are sent to fight while the women become a harem for the clerks and officials who govern there. It is not the Clan way. Clan men must protect their women and children first, their land second, and their country third. Any man who does otherwise has lost sight of what he’s fighting for.’
Kassien bristled. ‘You know nothing of strategy, Siaren. If you had your way every man would stand in the doorway of his own steading and brandish torches at the Sekk hoping to drive them away like bats. You cannot defeat the Sekk in a wrestling match. You must adapt.’
Dhien said, ‘The years of serving Jai Khalar have changed you. The Kassien I knew believed in his family.’
No one spoke. The reference to Bennen’s death greyed the air.
Kassien stood up. His jaw worked. ‘I did all I could to save my brother. I could not stand guard over him every day. I did not understand him, but I tried. I tried to protect him. Ah – why do you attack me now? My own family!’
He spun on his heel and strode away. Istar leaped up and followed him. Pentar followed her. Istar glared at him and waved him back, but he kept following at a distance. She ignored him.
Kassien rampaged through the camp and out the other side, into open meadow where birds took flight, arrow-swift, before him. It was hot and windy; his hair, newly trimmed probably by Dhien, whipped back from his face as he reached up to his throat and tore the bearskin cloak open, flinging it to the ground as if it were an enemy.
He turned and saw her. ‘How could they say that about Bennen?’ he cried angrily. ‘You know how it was, Istar. You know.’
She met his eyes. ‘They’re wrong,’ she said simply. ‘Bennen was … nothing could have saved him, not in those circumstances.’
He wiped tears away. ‘The Knowledge is nothing more than a curse,’ he said, and she thought he sounded just like Tarquin. ‘I hate it. If it were a H’ah’vah, I would kill it.’
‘Bennen was happy in his way,’ Istar said, taking Kassien’s hands. ‘His life was short, but it was not tortured. He really didn’t care about Pierse. Half of him was always … somewhere else. Maybe it still is.’
‘Do you think so?’ He searched her eyes.
‘Don’t be sad, Kassien.’
He smiled a little, looked down, swung her hands from side to side. ‘You were a good friend to my brother,’ he said. ‘I know we fight, but—’ He looked in her eyes again and she felt her face getting hot. Then she spotted Dhien walking towards them from behind Kassien, and she must have showed some reaction because he stiffened and turned as if anticipating an attack. As he recognized Dhien, Istar let go of his hands and stepped away. The brown-haired girl took her time reaching them, placing one foot before the other in a straight line so that her hips swayed from side to side. Istar drifted away.
‘I’m sorry for what I said,’ Dhien said. ‘No one blames you for what happened to Bennen – that is the fault of Ajiko’s policies and the crushing of Clan brotherhood. That is why you must return to us. You are a good warrior. We need you.’ She looked pointedly down at the cloak he had cast on the ground. She picked it up and put it on her own shoulders. Then she walked away without another word.
Istar kept her eyes turned towards the ground. For a long, wrenching moment, Kassien was locked in a silent struggle; then he suddenly sprang forward after Dhien.
‘Wait!’ he called. ‘Dhien, wait!’
Dhien turned. Kassien caught up with her. She threw herself into his arms. Istar pivoted and started to walk in the other direction, sickened. After a moment, Kassien called her name. She pretended not to hear: what was he going to say? Thank you, Istar, for being such a good friend? She didn’t think she could stand that.
She had not planned on walking anywhere today, but after this little scene she found herself taking off across the open countryside, unwilling to be among people. Pentar was still following her at a discreet distance; she smiled maliciously, thinking that she would wear him out as well.
When she got back to the camp it was full of activity. She found Pallo, who was carrying baskets of greens for Siaren. Catching sight of Istar, Siaren said, ‘I hope that the argument between Hallen and Kassien doesn’t mean that the feast will be spoiled. I’ve been up half the night working.’
There was something odd and hidden in her manner, Istar thought; but the big old woman made her feel secure, and Istar wanted to trust her, so she did not ask questions. She had the impression from the way everyone in the camp was acting that the tension had been broken and whatever had transpired earlier around the story circle had now been forgotten.
Pallo chimed in. ‘The Clan chieftains are back from the hunt, and Hallen has fixed the wagon, and they are going to give us a huge feast before we all go on our way.’
‘But there is still the matter of the injured to discuss,’ Siaren said. Pentar had been hanging around on the fringes of the discussion; now he spoke up.
‘Anatar is weak now, but he will recover, and when he does, he may be of use to you. Ultimately he will wish to return to his own people, but at the moment, one cannot help but notice that you have few men to defend you.’
‘Yes,’ Siaren replied. ‘We will take Anatar with us, and be glad of his presence. But what about you, Pentar?’
‘I will go with the others, if they will have me,’ Pentar said, and looked straight at Istar. She was annoyed that he had made it a public statement; she didn’t wish to take him, but she also didn’t want to have an open discussion about it in front of Kassien’s family.
‘We have not yet settled on our plans,’ Istar said to Siaren. ‘This is something we must decide amongst ourselves.’
‘But please can we do it after the feast?’ Pallo begged. ‘I can smell something wonderful.’
Siaren laughed. ‘Then take an axe and go cut some more wood for the fires.’
Pallo stood and bowed to her. ‘I’ll be happy to do anything I can to expedite matters concerning food.’
They spent most of that day lounging in the sun by the riverbank, resting. The idea of a feast had reminded them all just how hard they had been going at it lately. The little taste of ordinary life that they’d enjoyed in the camp was proving seductive. When Pallo came back from chopping wood and joined the others, he was full of praise for the Bear Clan.
‘I think I’ll defect and become a Bear,’ he announced. ‘Do you think I’d look g
ood in a fur cloak, like Kassien?’
‘It is easy to think of reasons to go with them,’ Xiriel said, yawning. ‘We can’t See Jai Khalar, so for all we know the White Road has opened and the king rides it to Jai Pendu.’
‘Or we can’t see Jai Khalar because Pharice has invaded and destroyed the Eyes,’ said Kassien ominously.
‘Even by the fastest reckoning the Pharicians could not have reached Jai Khalar yet,’ Pallo contradicted. There was a shadow in his eyes, and Istar pitied him, for it could not be easy to be an outsider among the Clans, and in a time of war surely his loyalties must be in conflict, no matter how much he purported to prefer Everien to Pharice.
‘It is difficult,’ Kassien went on slowly, ‘to think of facing more monsters and probably worse when the bees are on the thistle like this. The world seems so peaceful, here in the sun. Look at all these insects and flowers; there’s a universe in miniature here in the grass, and we sharpen our swords.’
Istar cynically thought it more likely that Kassien was interested in the universe between Dhien’s legs, but she kept quiet. Pallo also studied the thistle. ‘Their world is more violent than ours. The bees are not peaceful, and the butterflies are hunted, and the ants are positively rapine. I would rather be human.’
‘You say the strangest things sometimes, Pallo,’ Xiriel commented.
Pallo blushed, uncertain if this was a compliment or a complaint.
‘The Bear Clan have been kind to us,’ Xiriel continued. ‘But I want to see Jai Pendu. So I vote we go on. After my nap.’ He closed his eyes.
Here in the sun, even Istar was having second thoughts. I don’t know if we can do it, she wanted to say. We may be fools rushing toward death when we could do some good here. And I am tired of travelling, and my arm hurts, and if I were not an Honorary would Kassien love me? Probably not.
But she didn’t dare speak her mind, so she simply said, ‘Of course we must go on.’
There was a silence.
‘You know what’s strange about these moths?’ Pallo mused. ‘They have these markings on them like eyes, so that birds will fear them and not eat them.’
‘How do you know that?’ asked Xiriel.
‘So they teach it in Pharice, and it makes sense, does it not? But what I want to know is, does the moth know about this? He can’t, can he? Because it’s like he’s wearing a sign saying, “Back off! Don’t eat me!” but it’s not written in his language, it’s written in the bird’s language.’
‘Hmm,’ said Xiriel.
‘So?’ Kassien asked.
‘So imagine you were walking around all your life with a message written on you, but it wasn’t meant for you or your kind, it was only sensible to some other kind of creature. And you could go your whole life without knowing what it meant, or even that it was there.’
‘Pallo?’
‘Yes, Istar?’
‘Practise your lunges.’
‘No. I don’t feel like it.’
Istar closed her eyes. Tomorrow she would be a warrior. Tomorrow she would embrace death. Tomorrow she would be so fucking fearless they would all pull together beneath her brilliant leadership.
A moth landed on her face and she jumped, giving a little scream.
The Dance of the Bears
Istar had always associated feasting with winter and darkness, and it seemed strange now to find fires and music and food and drink all laid out under the sunlit sky. The reluctance of light to disappear altogether was a subliminal reminder that the midsummer arrival of Jai Pendu was now very close. To be among people engaged in revelry made her feel torn. The enthusiasm of the Bear Clan exiles was catching in its way, and it had been a long time since she and her friends had simply enjoyed themselves. The food was a mere matter of the meat that the chieftains had brought in from the hunt plus whatever fish and wild plants had been gathered while the family was stalled at this site, and the entertainment was improvised; but this makeshift approach actually made everyone participate more wholeheartedly than at any of the extravagant festivals Istar had ever attended at Jai Khalar, where the setting had a way of overshadowing the people.
It was the older generation of the Clan who seemed to let themselves go the most, Istar noticed. The children, of course, hurled themselves into the fun as she would have expected under any circumstances, but the young women seemed curiously subdued. Dhien, however, managed to attract a crowd at one point. Istar avoided the scene until the repeated oohs and ahs broke down her reserve. She took her drink and went to peer through the circle of onlookers to see what was so exciting.
In her hand Dhien was holding a tiny replica of a bear. Istar had never seen anything so exquisite: it was a perfect specimen, exact in every detail, but only a few inches tall.
Then it moved.
They all jumped. Saxifrage, who never seemed to leave Dhien’s side, gave a high-pitched yip and then sat, whining.
The bear padded across Dhien’s palm and up the inside of her forearm. Delicately she plucked it up with her other hand, and it squirmed and clawed as it was set back down in her palm. It sat on its haunches and yawned.
‘Where did you find it?’ Xiriel breathed. ‘How—’
‘It was made in the Fire Houses,’ Dhien said, looking sidelong at him out of her green eyes. ‘With the Knowledge.’
‘Who made it? How?’
‘It was Resien, but he went off to war. We haven’t heard from him in months. I don’t know how he did it.’
‘A fusion of the Knowledge with the Animal ways,’ Xiriel said. ‘I’ve never heard of such a thing.’
‘It is never awake for long,’ Dhien said, smiling. ‘Maybe because it’s a bear, it gets sleepy …’
As she spoke, the bear settled into the hollow of her hand and closed its eyes. Dhien took Pallo’s hand and gently transferred the creature to his open palm. He stared at it in delight. Fortunately, just then Siaren summoned everyone to eat and Istar was spared exercising her faculty for jealousy any further.
She sought out Hallen, sat beside him in the feast, and unobtrusively got him drunk. She wanted to pick his brain about what he had seen in the Floating Lands. She was wondering what the other Clan leaders might be planning without informing Jai Khalar. Hallen rambled a good deal at first, but as he got drunker, his mind seemed better lubricated, and he began to explain his thinking.
‘You are much too young to understand. Ysse came into power only forty years ago. For a thousand years or more before that, it was the Clans. War was a way of life, but when I speak of war I mean the kind of war such as pits man against man, not army against army. Ysse herself was a product of those traditions, and for all that she induced us to put aside Clan quarrels to turn back the Sekk, she had a deep respect for Clan ways. She never attempted to build an army such as the Pharicians have, where the foot soldiers are faceless and expendable. Quintar’s company, Istar, was a miracle! He had the finest warriors of his generation, each alone a match for a dozen lesser men, and your father better than them all. Technically speaking, child, your father was outmatched by no man, not even Quintar his captain.’
Istar felt her nostrils flare. ‘Why was he not leader, then?’
‘He wasn’t interested. Quintar’s great talent was in moulding men to his purposes without ever taking from them their essential dignity or individuality. Ysse needed him badly. She was a great queen, but her hold over the Clans was always tenuous. It was the Knowledge which was the making of her, for with the Fire of Glass she had found a way to repel the Sekk; and it was the means by which she held sway, for she began to forge the keys that would explain the Fire Houses and the other Artifacts the Everiens bequeathed to us. Now Lerien has this Knowledge, and the infrastructure Ysse left to take advantage of it, but he doesn’t have the love of the people. That Ysse had.’
‘We need another Artifact,’ said Istar. ‘The people are exhausted.’
‘We need men. Lerien has thrown them to the wolves. He lined up my nephews and sons and grandso
ns and made them march in formation against an enemy no one understands. The youngest of my people have never known their fathers, and now never will. No Clan chief would send his men blind to their deaths as Lerien’s army has done.’
‘The intention,’ Istar said, ‘was to keep the Sekk out of the villages. Sekk will take men by preference, and make them turn on their own families. At least the families are preserved this way.’
‘But when Ajiko gathers so many, takes them from their territory, and directs them to and fro at a distance using the Eyes, they have lost control of their destinies. It takes only one Sekk Master to consume an entire battalion and send it rampaging across the land, burning and slaughtering. Nor are we ever given terms of surrender. Madness is not the word for it, unless there be such a thing as calculated madness.’
Istar’s mouth was dry. ‘Is this what happened to your Clan?’
‘Indeed. A mixed band of soldiers attacked our land. Some were our own Clan. They had been Mastered from without. Warriors trained to fight with minds and hearts and skills developed and tested by each man for himself, now swarmed over us and cut down everything in their path. They had no reason, no language, no human sensibilities at all. Why should we stay? Ajiko’s Knowledge could not help us. We hid in the Winter Towns, underground, and waited for them to get bored of the sport and leave. Then we gathered what we could of our livelihoods and fled. If only we had done so sooner, many might have been saved. As it is, we must cut our losses and consider all the men of fighting age to have been lost: killed or Enslaved, whichever is worse.’
‘How will you manage on your own in the wild lands? You left your towns and farms behind. And who will hunt? The Clan chieftains? You?’
‘I’m old, but not dead yet,’ he said dryly. ‘But I am glad now to have met you, and to have recovered Kassien at least. It is a great relief to me to know he will be with us.’
The Company of Glass Page 30