Darkness Risen (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 4) (4 page)

“It is easy enough to imitate another Tribe’s colors
and designs,” the Fifth said somewhat obliquely, “and a lie is most effective
when mixed in unequal amounts with the truth.” She let them chew on that for a
long moment, then continued. “When it became apparent who the most likely
candidates for our opposition were going to be, groups of our combined warru
forces in our potential adversaries’ Tribe colors were sent out along with many
others in many different Tribe colors to aid in the - search for our beloved,
missing High Heir. If she can see them, she will think that she knows who her
enemies are, or at least, she will doubt who are friends. If she cannot see
them, then whoever is helping her can.”

Again there were murmurs of appreciation at the cunning
of such foresight and immediate action.

“And the second imperfection in this little scheme?”
the First sneered in a totally sneer-free voice.

“Getting the Heir to come to value the word and
voice of our Public Face?” The Fifth settled back and folded her hands into her
lap. “It seems that she became the unfortunate victim of one of our little ‘experiments.’
The poison was in her system long enough to make her sick, if not kill her, for
she has not found her way home by now. That experiment was made by
our
hand and ‘rita, or the hand and ‘rita of one in our control. She has been
exposed to our influence.”

The hoods of the others turned to each other as they
silently digested this and the implications it held. They had not read that far
into the consequences of the Heir falling into one of their mutated specimens.
Of course, theoretically, if one has been directly exposed to or invaded by the
‘rita of another, then that other has an abstruse influence over the one,
but... how strong a sway could the poison induce?

“Enough,” the Fifth answered the unasked question.
“Enough for a small suggestion here and a tiny comment there to have a bit more
weight than they normally would. Enough that, over time, such minuscule nudges
will have a land sliding effort in the direction we choose.”

“We need to make a decision this eve,” the Fourth
said, her cowl turned toward the Fifth and incidentally, away from the First.
“I think we may start to implement this plan. It can be modified as need
arises. Are any opposed?”

Assent was almost unanimous. The First did not favor
the plan, but she did not oppose it directly, either. If it worked, then their
cause was furthered, and the Face would have to be dealt with some other way.
If not - then the Face would fall flat, and would be out of the picture in
terms of her threatening position to usurp power. So she neither assented nor
opposed the plan. Other plans would be made and instituted once more
information had been garnered.

“There is one other avenue I think we should consider,”
The Fifth said, moving her head as if looking around, a gesture purely for
drawing out their attention. “If the Heir’s negligence could actually be
proven, we would have a lever powerful enough to catapult us to our plan’s
culmination even before the turning of the age by pressing the challenge.”

“We would need concrete evidence to do that,” the
Second said. “Challenging the Heir was merely a diversion - a brilliant one,
since the opportunity was there, but one that was not fully discussed or
thought out. To actually continue to use it in some way might endanger our
other plans if the Public Face were to come under too close scrutiny before
enough suggestions of control have been made. After all, she
was
hurt,
very
seriously if she has not found her way home by now; and since her body has not
been recovered and there has been no outcry from the land, we know that she is
not dead, but she may have come close to dying. Her injury could be enough to
strengthen her claim and exonerate her negligence.”

“Not if she left the bulk of her escort to go into
the wilds alone,” the Fifth said, and a silken thread of low triumph marred the
carefully modulated voice. “I have word from my sources that she parted company
with the bulk of her protectors
before
entering the unclaimed lons and
after
that she stumbled into one of our - experiments. Her escort was certainly not
with her, or why send out a search egwae?”

“Again, we need proof,” the Third said, the cowl
shaking in negation. “How do we prove that she left her escort? For if she
truly did, then they would have returned to the Ritious City in secret, or
somewhere close to it. Then they would wait for her to summon them, so that
none would know that she was alone and without protection. We would be unable
to use them against her, for by now they are probably shortening the way for
the search egwae as we speak. And few know about the search egwae -
we
know, because we were expecting one, and our spy saw it. But any evidence that
we might use to strengthen the challenge is tainted. Our spy is inadmissible by
its very nature - such a creature would condemn us faster than the challenge
would. The Heir’s injury through negligence is inadmissible because of
its
manner - it
was
more likely than not one of
our
experimental
plantings that caught her, and if those are brought under scrutiny, they would
show our influence. Again we would be condemned out of hand. To confront the
egwae openly is useless, for they would have any number of legitimate reasons
for being where they are. The only feasible way to press the challenge would be
to find her before the search egwae does and hold her in our care, then present
her back to her own Family. And they have the advantage on us, both in
resources and the Rite of Seeking.”

“Yes; how they managed to complete it so fast almost
bespeaks the will of the Goddesses,” the Fourth said. “Our warru are in pursuit
of her but cannot snare her. I do not see how we can prove any of these things.
I say we focus on the facts needed to rescind the challenge gracefully and save
the Public Face. Actually trying to win the challenge against the Heir-” she,
too, shook her head for emphasis, “-impractical. The High Queen will not wait
too much longer before making her response. We must be ready to meet her counter-challenge
and soften the blow to the Face.” Nods met her statement. A hint of a smile
issued from the First.

“What if I have proof?” The Fifth asked quietly.
Four sets of hidden eyes settled heavily upon her, then twitched involuntarily
to the Sixth, the puppeteer.

“What proof?” the First asked, just as quietly. The
smile hint vanished.

The smile of the Fifth was tangible. “All in good
time, Sisters. First I must verify that what I have is indeed proof, and then
we may discuss ways to use it. But I agree that we should work to establish our
plans to rescind the challenge if what I have comes to naught. It was but a
thought to ponder upon. Merely a notion.” A seed. Planted, it would bear fruit.
But whether sweet or bitter remained to be seen.

A sils followed, in which no other notions were put
forth. The meeting closed then, with the initial plans of action laid down.
Each then turned her cup upside-down to indicate her accord, and then, without
another word to each other, one by one they stood and left, in the order in
which they arrived. Last to leave was the Sixth. She sat and continued to stare
at the walls, some ripple of agitation or emotion shimmering over her as the
emptiness crept back to see if its place were still taken. Then she left to let
the emptiness do its jadine work.

CHAPTER
III

the light, watchful and wary, waited for
its stalker to show itself, but the stalker was too clever for that; it snuck
up from behind, and the light, startled, turned..

Jeliya
struggled back up to consciousness, fighting off the cold darkness that pressed
in on her like the absence of Av and Av’s blessing. She opened her eyes. She
found herself staring up at a lead green sky smudged with grey clouds. Silent
trees, sentinels quietly disapproving, stared back down at her, shaking leafy
heads. She found that she lay in a bed of ice needles spread out in a
snow-flake pattern around her, a frozen princess in ice glory. The others lay
in a circle about her, all unconscious, all in their own little glory of ice. The
layer of frost coating them and everything around them made them sparkle, like
a powdering of diamond dust. The sparkle actually spread a ways beyond the
group the surrounding area, including a wooden structure that stood not far
away. Jeliya just lay where she was and shivered - that was all she could do.
How
long have I been lying here?
she wondered, while eve approached and dropped
over them in silken silence. She stared up at the motionless trees, unable to
move herself, unable to think, or find the will to act. She could not even
muster up the will to care. All she had was just enough strength and presence
of mind to set up the weakest of wards before her eyes closed again.

The next time she opened them, it was to the sight
of wooden walls. Everyone she saw was wrapped in a desi and drinking from
steaming calabashes. A warru came over and lifted her up, helped her to drink
from one such bowl. She inhaled the soup, scalding her tongue and not caring,
for the warmth seemed to give life and strength back to her limbs. Wordlessly,
everyone sat and shivered and drank their soup in the grain barn, which was
what the wooden structure turned out to be. No preparations were made to
continue. Even the Katari, somewhat restless by nature and eager to travel, were
reluctant to move - they all lay on their lower stomachs, listlessly drinking
soup and munching preserved sweet grass, and not looking at anything in
particular. By mute, mutual agreement they stayed the eve in the barn, sleeping
where they sat, the kati’yori also sleeping with heads down, still saddled with
panquins and tack. Only one industrious servant seemed to have the energy to do
much, and she expended it in making the soup and wrapping the others in the
desi that she had valiantly wrestled from the packs. She was the first to fall asleep
once everyone had been fed, and no one begrudged her that.

Av’dawn found them still asleep. Jeliya, again, was
the first to awaken. This time she did move, moaning slightly, turning her
throbbing head to look out the high windows of the oval barn. Av was just
climbing to the top of the sky, slim footsteps left as slight wisps of cloud in
Av’s wake.

She shivered still, the slight chill and airlessness
of the Av’ru still within the core of her, a prickle of cold that seemed to
numb her very soul...

When was the last time I performed the Rite of Solu?
she
asked herself suddenly, just recognizing the first signs of lor’den. It had
been at least two turns, if not longer.

Gritting her teeth, she forced her reluctant body
up, stumbling to the side door of the barn, taking her desi with her. She
cracked the door as quietly as she could, and slipped through.

Outside the structure, she looked for a clear, Av’lit
patch of ground. Before her was a cart path worn in the ground, overshadowed by
gulu trees. The trees formed a ring about the barn in once neat rows left to
grow wild. Distant hills rose to the right, and the land rolled off in gentle
swells, the path from the barn following the curves.

Spying an irregular spot of Av’light to the nor’weste,
she limped to it, crossing the large circles of dead grass that marked the
egwae’s arrival. She reached the bright patch, and fell to her knees, let the
desi slip off her shoulders.

“In you there is
light....”

After completing the rite, Jeliya studied her
surroundings. The lonely barn was on a low rise, with the land falling away to
the norae and weste, a small stream flowing at the lowest point. Beyond the
stream were fields of grain and alternating patches of the leafy heads of ground
provisions. She could see that the rough path that led from the barn door
turned to follow the stream for a short way before crossing it over a crude
plank-bridge, while the marching lines of gulu trees paralleled the water
course away este. Off to the norae were distant green mountains speckled with
bright spots of color.

Where are we?
she wondered, taking in the signs of
wuman occupation.
Where did the Av’rujo send us? Was this a place the Av’rujo
had known? Well, obviously, it is,
she thought a little scornfully to
herself. Now, how to get their bearings without encountering others...

“Jeliya!”

She turned, saw Pentuk and Otaga coming toward her.
Picking up the desi, she wrapped it around her shoulders and pushed herself to
her feet.

“Princess, what are you doing out here by yourself?”
the Warru First asked sternly, taking her arm with one hand and putting the
other arm as support around her waist. Pentuk did the same on the other side.

Do they suspect me of trying the rite I performed on
the Katari plains, when I tried to reach Gavaron?
She had never
explained what she had been doing, but their concern now, as then, was
palpable.

“Rite of Solu,” she said, trying to smile. “Felt lor’den
starting.” She felt them relax a little at the explanation, but not completely.

“You still should have awakened one of us,” Otaga
chided. “Though we are in wuman territory, there may still be enemies about.
All will come to naught if they capture you.”

“Yes, Warru First, you are right,” Jeliya
acquiesced, feeling the first shackles of her position resettle upon her. “Til
we are safe back at T’Av’li, I will not wander out alone again.”

Otaga nodded, mollified. Pentuk was silent on the
other side. When Jeliya glanced at her, she gave a sheepish shrug and smile.
She would not openly question the Heir.

About half the egwae members were awake when the
three slipped back inside the barn, including Staventu and Jahun’no. They all
looked up as the Heir and her escort came in, varying degrees of concerned and
curiosity in their faces.

“I went out to look around and to perform the Rite
of Solu,” Jeliya said to the group at large. “The Av’rujo gave me an image of
this place to av’tun to. She did not tell me where it was, though. So I went to
try and figure out if I had been here before.” She let Otaga and Pentuk lower
her to her pallet.

“I wondered how we got here,” Staventu said,
nodding.

“Itiri, would you take two of your scouts and see if
you can ascertain our position?” Otaga ordered, as Jahun’no came over to check
on Jeliya.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Well enough,” she said, not wanting to tell him
that she was bone tired. He considered.

“Lor’den?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. “I had a bout of it before. That’s what
drove me outside in the first place,” she admitted. “I hope I caught it in
time.” She also kept her voice low. The others politely ignored them.

“We’ll see,” he replied, standing up and moving
aside to let a warru give Jeliya a bowl of food.

She ate and watched her brothers and the Warru First
organize the egwae. Some began to clean up the signs of their brief residency.
Others tended to the mounts. When Itiri and the two others came back in, she
turned her attention to them, to hear what they had to say.

“By the readings of Av, we are somewhere on the edge
of the Central lons,” Itiri reported, showing Otaga a complicated little device
with an Av’shadow and lines of latitude and longitude. The scouts with her had
similar devices, but their readings were each slightly different.

“The triangulation of the Norae, Este and Weste, and
given the declination off absolute zenith, I would estimate - Ethelea’lon.”

“Three hundred yori’turns Sor’weste of the Ritious
City,” Otaga mused. She nodded. “Make ready. When the Heir is able, we will
proceed.”

Jeliya finished her food and wiped out her bowl,
stowed it away. She then began rolling up her pallet and desi. She finished a
little behind everyone else, but not by much. All eyes turned to her as she
stood, pack slung over her arm.

“I am ready,” she lied.

the darkness
turned...

It took them two more av’tuns, with a turn of rest
between them, to come to within twenty yori’turns of the holdings outside the
Ritious City. They had taken the last three hundred odd yori’turns in easy
stages, others creating the av’tuns to let Jeliya and the other egwae leaders
rest, on the whispered advice of the warru ol’bey. Thus, the scouts had gone to
the fore, and over the next two turns and more than three hundred yori’turns
they came to within the bounds of Ava’Lon itself, the Central Wuman lon and Jeliya’s
home lon, at the center of which was T’Av’li. At this prearranged ‘tun point
they were met by one of the missing scouts, the one that Rilantu and another
scout had been unable to contact, who was full of apologies and explanations
and instructions. She told how she had watched her sister scouts die under the
claws of unholy creatures, even as the unfortunate ones tried to ‘tun a warning
to others farther away, or ‘tun away themselves. Only her absolute stillness
and silence in the ways of light had saved her. And after waiting for two turns
in that stillness, without food or rest, to make certain that the abominations
were truly gone, she had made her way overland to a neighoring lon and a small
town, and av’tunned back to T’Av’li from there. The High Queen knew of the Heir’s
return, knew about some of the attacks, and about the corrupt pearls. She had
left instructions for the egwae to make temporary camp in the nearby field,
during which time she would come to see the Heir herself. She held out an official
scroll with the High Queen’s own seal, which could be verified by a drop of
Jeliya’s blood. The egwae bowed to the instructions and bivouacked in the
indicated field.

And here they stayed while the two freshest warru av’tunned
ahead with the lucky scout and the five warru escorting her to announce the
Heir’s presence and successful retrieval to the High Queen.

Jeliya, alone in her obin’tu in the middle of the
field of grain, lay in a haze of exhaustion, depressed. Two more turns had been
lost since they had escaped from the place of the av’tun traps.

But for Jeliya, there was no relief in the knowledge
that she was so close to home. For, besides the tiredness from all the heated
trials that she had faced, there was within her a cold, numb grief that she had
all too many explanations for. For if the link had been an endless abyss that
vanished to a point before, now it was a slender capillary and almost as vital
as that most delicate of blood vessels, carrying life between the two
soul-mates; and it was as thin as spider’s silk vibrating in the breeze, and
yet somehow as strong. Or stronger, yet, for nothing save the power of the
Goddesses would break it. She no longer tried to travel down the link - she
would have to force it open to traverse it, and that would take more energy
than she had life, for she was already dangerously overtaxed from moving the
egwae sweeping distances, even with all of the members helping her.

Jeliya was numbly grateful for the reprieve from
others being constantly around her, for now she could wallow in her loss until
it was time to span the final distance to T’Av’li and stretch the precious,
tenuous link to its ultimate limit. Now she could grieve, for she seemed truly
without him and he without her. Now she could reconcile herself with his
absence, and pull herself together. She performed the pay’ta’ri, and saw that
all levels of her being were guinned into the link. In a way they were surely
inseparable. Then she touched the velvet edge of the Jur’Av’chi, no longer a
gaping, draining hole in her existence, but a softly sustaining tether that did
not draw essence away from her. Instead, it imparted - something. Was that a
whisper of him just below the conscious plane? Would she taste him in her
dreams?