The Wraeththu Chronicles

by Storm Constantine

  "He will poison you!"

  "No!"

  "What was it you said to me, Swift, that night so long ago? Wasn't it something like, 'I'll never betray you, Cobweb'?" He made an angry, sneering sound. "It didn't take you long to forget that, did it?"

  "Alright!" I shouted. "You're right and I'm wrong. You're right to want me to surrender my body to the wrong person and I'm wrong to want to surrender it to the right person!"

  Cobweb suppressed a smile. "He's really got to you, hasn't he? First Terzian, now you! Where will it end?"

  "I wonder!" I rubbed my arms. My beloved hostling had drawn blood. Contrite, he drew me to him and kissed the claw marks.

  "Hard to imagine you in Cal's arms," he said shakily.

  "Thank you Cobweb."

  His eyes were shadowed. He looked away.

  I was so nervous of having to face Cal that I stayed in my room until the following evening. My head was aching and I could not eat. All I wanted to do was sleep, but because my skin was burning I could only toss and turn on the bed. At suppertime, there was a knock on my door and my heart seemed to jump into my mouth. "Come in!" I called, sweat breaking out all over my body, but it was only Swithe.

  "How are you?" he asked. He had brought me some milk and a meat sandwich.

  "I feel ill, of course!" I retorted irritably. "How are things downstairs?"

  Swithe smiled. "Same as usual, I suppose. We haven't been invaded yet anyway! I heard that Ponclast is coming down next week. He'll probably still be here for your Feybraiha."

  "Already the event is enriched beyond my dreams!" I groaned sarcastically. "Where's my father?" This was an oblique question, but its meaning was not lost on Swithe.

  "Oh, he's been talking to Cal in his study. They've been locked away together for hours. Even had their meal in there."

  "Oh God!" I pressed my arm across my eyes, every muscle in my body flexing with self-conscious shame.

  "Leef was here today," Swithe mentioned lightly. "Some say he left here in a fearful temper."

  Restless to the point of agony, I went down to the drawing room with Swithe. Aihah and Shune and Cobweb were already there and they greeted me as brightly as if I were a lunatic, to be humoured at all cost. I was bored of constantly being asked how I was feeling. Cobweb offered me sheh and rubbed the back of my neck. "It'll soon be over, Swift," he said softly. Aihah smiled at me and his voice in my head said, "All is as it should be." i Feeling nostalgic, I wanted to see Gahrazel, but he never came to the house nowadays, living with the soldiers in the town, being with Purah, no doubt.

  When everyone was talking, Cobweb beckoned me to go and sit with him again. I had been wandering restlessly around the room, going to the window, looking for the moon with its vague face, its soothing radiance.

  "Terzian is speaking to Cal," my hostling said.

  "I know." We looked at each other and I was grateful that he did not condemn me, as

  perhaps he should.

  "You must know that from now on, you must not be alone with Cal, don't you?"

  I nodded. "Yes."

  I put my arms around him, soft and hard, lean and full; my beloved mother of mystery.

  "You're shivering. You should go to bed," Cobweb said.

  I had often wondered how, during aruna, it was decided which har should be soume and which ouana, or if they could be both at the same time (an intriguing thought. I tried to imagine the mechanics of it endlessly). Swithe explained to me that the roles were interchangable and that, as far as he knew, no-one had attempted to be both at the same time. We both laughed at the thought of it. Apparently, the decision over who should take what role varied from tribe and tribe. For some, it might involve occult ritual; soume was the altar, ouana the blade of sacrifice, for others something that was resolved naturally. Among our own people, I learned that many hara (such as my father) had rejected the idea of submitting to soume and that they always chose to take aruna with hara that were content to let them take the dominant role. If this was not the case, foreplay to aruna often involved a battle of strength over who would submit to whom. (Varrs are never completely comfortable with the feminine side to their natures, hence the need for those such as Cobweb.) As I was so inexperienced, it was taken for granted that for my Feybraiha, I would be soume to start with. Swithe told me not to be alarmed if certain parts of my body withdrew into the safety of the pelvic cage while I was soume. "It is to prevent damage," he said. "Sometimes, aruna can be rather energetic and you know what parts of you are easily hurt."

  "That will make me almost female," I said, uncertainly.

  "Not entirely dissimilar, I suppose," Swithe agreed. "Although our sexual parts are much more complex than man's or woman's. Our ecstasy IN so much more intense, because it can be used to obtain power. That is why our bodies are so refined in this respect." He smiled. "I can still remember when I was incepted and the har who came to me first."

  "What was he like?" I asked. Swithe smothered the dreamy, faraway look in his eye, and I thought of Cobweb.

  "It was a long time ago," he said.

  Moswell, thankfully sparing me any graphic details (which were bad enough from Swithe) was concerned mostly with teaching me about etiquette. I learned that it would be proper to avert my eyes unless told otherwise and to do exactly as Cal wanted me to. By this time, I was wondering if I'd made the right decision, being familiar with Cal's instinct to make a caustic joke out of any trying situation. The chaperoned meetings I had to suffer with him were a nightmare. It was very difficult to talk under such constraint for we already knew each other quite well, so it seemed utterly ridiculous having Moswell sitting there, watching us like a hawk.

  "This has come as a shock, Swift," Cal said and then laughed at my furious blush. "Not an unpleasant shock, of course. But what a responsibility!"

  "It won't be your first time though, will it?" I reminded him, meaning Pellaz.

  "No. I must have an extraordinary talent for educating virgins."

  "Cal, shut up!"

  "Well, I've had no complaint so far."

  It was impossible to suppress his carefree attitude and he was determined not to instil the slightest note of gravity into the proceedings.

  The day before my Feybraiha, Ponclast and my father received momentous news that sent a hush and then a babble right through the house. Through Shune and Aihah, the Kakkahaar had communicated that they had achieved massive breakthrough with the problem of the weird barriers the Gelaming had constructed about themselves. Soon, a

  passage would be completed through which the Varrs' armies could pass. The time had come. Restlessness spread through Galhea like a plague. Terzian would be leading his hara south within a week. This time, I felt I would be sorry to see him leave. He had been surprisingly understanding about Cal and also, this time, I was not so sure he would be back as quickly.

  Terzian organized a great feast for my Feybraiha. It was to be the Varrs' leaving party just as much as my own coming of age. Yarrow roasted a whole ox in the yard and managed to procure sparkling Zheera, which isan extremely potent form of sheh and supposedly aphrodisiac, which made my father laugh when he heard about it. All the eminent citizens of Galhea were to be invited to the house and Ponclast gave me a gift to mark my coming of age, a jewelled, curved knife. It was very beautiful, but would undoubtedly snap like matchwood if used to defend myself. Gahrazel had turned out better than he had expected and he must have been feeling grateful to my father, whom he considered to be responsible.

  On the morning of the great day, Bryony and Cobweb shared the task of choosing my clothes, brushing my hair and discreetly painting my face. "Not that you really need it," Cobweb remarked, "but it's nice to dress up for special occasions." The image that faced me in the mirror seemed like a stranger. Cobweb had made me trousers of pale, soft material in his favorite color, lightest green, almost white except in the folds. He weaved small, starry flowers into my hair and dabbed my skin with an expensive perfume which Terzian had once
procured for him from some far place. Bryony sighed at me and said, "You look so lovely, Swift, like a woman, like a beautiful boy. I don't know whether to fancy you or feel jealous of you. I wish I could hug you."

  "But you can!" I said and opened my arms. She felt small and slim and helpless in my hold and when I kissed her lightly on the lips I could see tears in her eyes.

  "You are so lucky," she said.

  On our way downstairs, I turned to Cobweb. "We are all happy," I said. "For now, maybe," my hostling answered, "so we must enjoy it!" All my father's friends were waiting for us in the Big Room. It was nearly midday and the sun was streaming in through the long windows in great gold bars. Everyone was dressed in finery, everyone was smiling. Red leaves blew along the terrace outside. "Swift, you are beautiful," Ponclast said, taking my hand and sweeping an exaggerated bow. I felt I could never tire of this attention. My childhood had been torn from me. Now I was adult and hara could flirt with me without reproach.

  Custom dictated that Terzian perform some kind of ceremony in my honor, although, Varrs being what they are, there was nothing written down to give him any guidelines. I think he made the words up as he went along. I remember him touching my shoulder and saying, "This body blooms, this Wraeththu flower," and before all our guests he joined Cal's hand with mine and told him, "Bring this flower to fruit." Terzian is an accomplished speaker. Even Cal could not bring himself to smile as my father delivered solemn words about deflowering. I was relieved when it was over.

  House-hara mingled among the guests dispensing sheh and wine, and many people came to speak with me. I can remember nothing of what was said. At some point I saw Leef standing with a group of friends near the windows. He saw me looking and we both froze and quickly turned away.

  The whole day was one of happiness and feasting and dancing. I was floating on air the whole time. All my discomfort had gone. All that was left was a tingling in my skin that was a yearning for the dusk and the time that would follow it. When my father pronounced me Kaimana at lunch, Cal, seated next to me, took my hand and kissed my cheek. (Why was it Leef's eye I had to meet across the table?) My body surged with untapped power, I felt capable of anything.

  Gahrazel came to speak to me in the afternoon. "It doesn't seem that long ago that it was my Feybraiha we were celebrating here," he said. "My God, Swift, you've changed since then!"

  "It wasn't that long ago and you've changed more than I have," I replied. "When did we last see you? We used to be such friends."

  "I know ..." Gahrazel sighed heavily and looked at the floor. When he raised his eyes again, I felt he was trying to tell me something.

  "Gahrazel?"

  He shook his head and reached for my hand. "It's nothing. Look, I'll come and see you before we go south again, I promise."

  "Forever used to be your home."

  Gahrazel looked at the room around him, beyond the faces, at the walls. I saw him shiver.

  "And how is Purah?" I enquired, but Gahrazel only smiled.

  "I'll see you soon," he said. "And good luck for tonight!"

  In the evening, after dinner, all the long windows in the Big Room were thrown open to an autumn evening still warm with the memory of summer. Hara wandered out there to dance in the moonlight and the smell of cooking meat drifted in from the remains of Yarrow's ox in the stableyard. I had had to speak with so many hara that day, I had hardly seen anything of Cal. Now, in the dusk, he came toward me and took me out on the terrace.

  "Can you believe this, I feel nervous!" he confessed. "It's such a responsibility, what with all these hara here and everything. I hope Terzian doesn't ask you to write out a report for him tomorrow. What if I fall asleep?"

  "I think I'm too drunk to be nervous," I replied. "Nothing seems real yet. I want to put my arms around you, but everyone's watching us."

  "Feybraiha seems to be a spectator sport, I agree. I expect they'll all cheer if you do."

  "I expect so too. Oh, what the hell!"

  We embraced. They cheered.

  At midnight, my father called us to the middle of the room and delivered another embarrassing speech, which everyone applauded with deafening enthusiasm. When he finished speaking and everyone was toasting my health and fortune, Cobweb came and touched my arm. "I think it's time, Swift," he said. "Come with me. It won't be so noticeable if you and Cal disappear separately."

  I followed my hostling up the great, wide stairs to my room. Always, on those stairs, my mind is flooded with memories. That time was no exception. I felt that at the foot of the stairs was my past, a forlorn child looking up, while at the head, my future, as yet unknown, gaped before me.

  My room had been strewn with ferns and smelled deep, dark and mysterious. "It's like a forest," I said.

  Cobweb took me in his arms. "Dear, dear Swift," he said. "If he hurts you, I will kill him!"

  "Will it hurt me then?" I asked, alarmed.

  Cobweb shook his head quickly. "No, no. I shouldn't have said that. If it does, it will be a sweet, sweet pain, and short in duration."

  He dressed me in white and took the flowers from my hair. I said, "My God, it's real, isn't it!"

  Cobweb smiled. "As real as anything can be. Don't be afraid."

  He folded back the sheets and I slid between them. The pillows were fragrant with perfume. Cobweb lit a dozen long, white candles and turned off the light. The room became an enchanted place. My heart beat fast and I was deep within the forest.

  "It is like a dream," I said.

  Cobweb was at the door. "Goodnight, little pearl," he said.

  I lay there for what seemed hours, drunk on my own heady turmoil and the rich scent of the room. I tried to rehearse what I would say to Cal when he came in, but none of the conversations had any end that I could imagine. Now it was real; now. Before that moment I could not visualize reaching it, even during the day. I remembered once sitting on the roof with Gahrazel when he had told me about aruna and how I had felt about it then, thinking of Ithiel. Now I was afraid, now I craved its consummation.

  Cal knocked on the door before he opened it, probably to give me time to compose myself. "Swift," he whispered. "Are you awake?" I laughed nervously. "I feel ridiculous."

  Cal crept stealthily across the room as if wary of others listening outside. "I know what you mean. It's a bit like Grissecon, having everyone there watching us. Hopefully, they're all too engrossed in drinking and dancing again by now."

  "Grissecon. . . . Have you ever done that?"

  He paused to examine himself in the mirror. "Yes. Once at Saltrock. That was where Pell and I stayed for a while." "Why did you do it?"

  "For magic, of course. There was a sort of plague, but it was man-made. Aruna is stronger than anything man can devise. We performed Grissecon to kill the plague."

  "Who ... you and Pell?"

  "No ... it was someone else." He smiled. "I don't want to talk about that now. You look lovely, Swift."

  "Everyone keeps saying that today," I said. "But will they tomorrow? Is it just a temporary thing?"

  Cal shook his head. "I could keep on extolling your virtues, but it might make you conceited. Shall we have a drink?

  He poured us shell and sat down beside me. We could hear the music from downstairs; the window was open.

  "I wonder what will happen when Terzian goes south," I said.

  "It's best not to think about that now. You might end up as Master of Galhea sooner than you think."

  "God, Cal, that's awful. Don't say that!" I cried, appalled. I hated to think my father was vulnerable, but Cal was probably right.

  "At least you'll be here if anything happens," I said.

  "And what could I do?" he asked, laughing.

  "Not do anything; just be here. I'd feel safer somehow."

  He look the glass from my hand. It was empty. I tried to smile.

  "Don't be afraid, Swift. Aruna is the most normal, commonplace, easily accomplished thing Wraeththu can do. We spend most of our lives being concerned
with it."

  He stood up and carelessly pulled off his shirt. His skin was dark, his hair almost white. I looked away and after a while he said, "Oh Swift, can't you hear to look at me?"

  "Moswell said it would be indelicate to stare."

  "Nonsense, it turns me on. I want you to admire me." I turned my head. His skin was tawny and soft with a sheen like fur. He turned round three limes. "Front and back elevation," he said. "What do you think?"

  "Wonderful ... a bit frightening ..."

  "You think so? Come here." He held out his hand. I struggled from the hod in a knot of nightshirt. "I don't like that. Take it off," he said and I hesitantly pulled it over my head. "I can't imagine anyone finding a garment like that erotic, but still, concealment is enticing, I suppose." We went to the windowseat and looked out at the garden and it felt wild and magical to be naked. Anyone might have looked up and seen us. Cal put his arm around me, stroking my skin, staring out into the darkness. "The Gelaming might have a price on my head," he said.