Lamarchos (9 page)

The silent staring crowd moved aside for a procession of six men and one woman, all frowning, all pompously without humor in their faces. Each wore the ubiquitous batik wrapped around their prosperous paunches, but added to this short, feather cloaks glowing with a gold-orange sheen, locked with gold chain around their pudgy shoulders. Each carried a staff in the shape of a long handled canoe paddle, intricately carved over the whole surface.

The leader stopped beside her. “Why do you summon the Kauna, strangers?”

Aleytys looked at him a minute in silence watching as he grew slightly uneasy under her frowning regard. She stood so that he had to tilt his head back if he wanted to look above her knees. “Olelo.”

The speaker dived through the curtains, balanced a moment on the seat back then scrambled up her arm to stand erect on her shoulder, bright, black eyes flickering over the stunned faces of the elders.

“I am Lahela gikena.”

Murmurs of surprise fled around the square. The watchers pressed closer.

“I have come to accuse Wahi-Po of injustice, of condemning the innocent.”

The Firstman of the Kauna bowed his head politely then turned shrewd sorrel eyes on her, uncomfortable at having to bend his neck to look up at such an angle. “You are welcome, gikena. But we don't understand. What do you accuse us of?”

Olelo tittered suddenly, the small sound shattering the dignity the Firstman sought to project. “Oh elder,” he shrilled. “I see your eyes looking at me. Wide open eyes.” He tittered again. “Three months gone, you kept them shut so you would not see.”

Firstman blinked and shifted his feet uneasily on the black and white tiles. Behind him the others, necks sore from the bending, looked down at their pudgy toes, but then they felt even more uneasy, being looked on when they were not looking, so they kinked their necks again to see her face.

Unsmiling still, Aleytys nodded. “The Lakoe-heai sent me here. What was done must be undone. Loahn.”

The elders gasped as the boy stepped through the curtains and stood behind the seat. A murmur of surprise with anger in it this time ran quickly around the crowd. The Kauna moved closer to one another, seeking the comfort of numbers, eyes slipping unhappily over the thin form of the pariah.

“Bring me the woman Riyda and the sons of Arahn.”

Firstman frowned. “I've never seen you, woman. You call yourself gikena. How do I know your true chosen?”

“I don't have to prove anything, old man. I came here to give you a chance to make good the wrong you did to one who was innocent. You know I need not have come. The boy could serve me the time I set him and come back here with no one to deny his right. If he wanted to come back to a desert. You understand that, Pukili, elder of Wahi-Po? I do not threaten you, I merely explain. If I turn from this place it is cursed.”

Firstman turned ashy pale. “No, si'a gikena.” He turned to the others crowding close behind him. “Mele, Lukia. Take wardens and bring the woman. Bring as many of the boys as you can find.” He dipped his head obsequiously to Aleytys. “One or more of the sons of Arahn may be out on the run.”

“That is acceptable. Though whichever of the sons is not here will have to be fetched to me eventually.”

The elder glanced at Loahn, the dislike he couldn't hide drawing his stringy face into sour lines. “You say that one is innocent?”

Aleytys raised an eyebrow. “You tread on my heels, old one. Are the Wahi-Po without courtesy? Hold your patience till the woman comes.”

“Then may I offer you the hospitality of my house? Water, shade, perhaps some meat or tea?”

“I will not step under roof in this place until the evil is cleansed, the wrong is undone. Nor shall I eat or drink here until what I came to do is done.”

The people in the square shifted uneasily, families and friends shrinking closer together to gain strength from the feel of flesh against flesh.

“Loahn, get inside. I don't want her to see you.” Aleytys spoke softly so that the others couldn't near.

Time passed slowly, marked only by the sun shifting a degree of arc in its afternoon slide toward the western horizon. Aleytys stood immobile, fighting a need to scratch that grew to ridiculous proportions. She wondered how Maissa and Kale were taking the tedious waiting, hoped Maissa was dreaming the time away with the help of her drug.

Finally she heard a growing disturbance, a woman's shrill voice soaring in a screaming descant over the sullen muttering of the crowd. The woman Mele and the man Lukia marched past the caravan in a stone-faced silence. Behind them two Kauna wardens had hold of a woman's arms, a dark woman, attractive even in her anger, her lush body writhing against their grasp. She vibrated with a vitality that made the elders look dull and old, that leached the personality even from the tough stolid men who forced her around so she faced Aleytys.

Firstman bowed his head. “This is Riyda wife and widow of Arahn.”

“And the sons of Arahn?”

“As you see. The three of them.” He pointed at the stocky scowling youths standing behind the wardens.

“Olelo?”

The speaker stroked his paws over the fall of white fur covering neck and belly. “He speaks truth, gikena sister.”

“What's all this about?” Warily Riyda examined Aleytys. Then she turned on the Kauna. “I'm an honest woman. A widow with the soul of my man in care. What of my rights, si'a Pukili? You tear me from my house like some sideroad whore!” Her eyes flashed righteous indignation. Around her the people of Wahi-Po muttered more loudly, casting unfriendly eyes at the stranger who had come among them to attack one of their own. “You know my father. My brother stands there. You, Mele. You're my mother's sister.” She jerked her arms free from the loosened grasp of the wardens. “Why have you done this?”

Aleytys could feel the crowd responding to Riyda. The stench of the anger in the square pinched her nostrils. She shivered. This had to go right. Damn but the woman was a fighter. She reached up and touched the speaker. As he wrapped a small black hand around her finger, warmth and confidence flowed back into her. She smiled. “You ask why, woman?”

Riyda swung around and glared at her.

“You ask why? You? If the punishment of the Lakoeheai comes upon Wahi-Po, you, Riyda by name, are the cause.”

“Punishment?” Anger faltered in Riyda a minute but she could not afford to admit weakness. Her face softened, took on an expression of amazement. “Me? I don't understand. I've done the proper rites, I've been true to my man. No other man can say I've willingly lain with him. I've honored the dead and gone dutifully about serving the living. I'm a poor helpless defenseless woman, my only protector finding his way to Ma-e-Uhane to await his rebirth. What could I have done?”

“I am gikena, woman. Play your games with those who cannot see through them. You have dishonored your man. You have cheated his first born out of birthright. You have lied, woman.”

Riyda was frightened. Like a cornered animal she reared back her head and prepared to fight. “Why do you do this to me?” she cried. Turning to face the crowd, she held out trembling hands to them. “Help me. Help me, my friends, my blood kin, my people, blood of my blood. This woman lies. How can she be true gikena if she lies like this to you, lies about me? I am innocent, I did nothing.”

An ugly murmur swept through the crowd. Ignoring the angry scowls, Aleytys stood unconcernedly erect, apparently untouched by the danger. Inside she was terrified. Olelo patted her cheek then leaped to the roof of the caravan.

“Wahi-Po,” he cried, his small voice suddenly having the force of the thunder that rumbled threateningly from the multi-colored cloudless sky. “Gikena my sister speaks truth! The woman lies, she seeks to have you turn on one sent by Lakoe-heai who speak to you now through this small one. Before you let body rule mind, remember what happened to Wahi-Aliki.” Again thunder rumbled. Hairline cracks opened in the mosaic pavement as the earth shifted underfoot, momentarily as unstable as water. The minaret swayed and groaned. Then Olelo scampered down and perched himself on Aleytys' shoulder.

Swallowing hastily she pointed an accusing finger at Riyda. “Speak truth, woman. You drugged the boy.”

“No … no …” Riyda wheeled to flee but the wardens caught hold of her and dragged her back. She turned and twisted, trying to pull free.

Aleytys snapped her fingers impatiently. “Still you will not tell the truth.” She swung down from the caravan. “Lie with my touch on you. If you can.”

Riyda screamed as Aleytys reached toward her, screamed again from terror and pain as fire seared through her writhing body. Overhead the sky took on an ominous coppery color, the pastel sworls of pink and blue and lavender and apple green and yellow drew away to a narrow ribbon circling the horizon. A hot dry wind rose to a mournful wailing as it blew over the city. The crowd, once hostile and threatening, disintegrated to individuals shuddering in superstitious fear shrinking back from the terrible scene by the tower. Riyda felt the difference in them through the haze of pain and sobbed wordlessly.

“You drugged the boy,” Aleytys repeated sternly. Her fingers rested lightly on the woman's temples and she looked down into the sweating face with little pity in her.

“I—I drugged the boy,” Riyda whispered.

“Louder, woman. So everyone can hear.”

“I drugged the boy.”

“You smeared an animal's blood on yourself.”

“No … ahhhh …” Pain coursed through her, fire burning her alive, eating her. “Yes, yes,” she shrieked. “I killed a water bird and smeared its blood on my thighs.”

“You lied when you said Loahn raped you.”

“I lied. I lied. I lied.”

“You lied when you said he spat on his father's corpse.”

“Yes, yes.” Her body was shuddering with hard deep sobs. “I lied. I lied about it all. Take your hand away, gikena, take your hand away, please … please … it hurts … I lied, yes I lied. I hated him. He was no good. If it wasn't for him my sons would have birthright. My sons, not hers. He never forgot her, he married me, I was better for him, but he never forgot her. Witch. She sorcelled him, bound his soul to hers.” Her head fell forward and she hung limply in the arms of the wardens.

Aleytys stepped back and climbed once more into the caravan. Her face composed in a forbidding mask, one hand touching the speaker the other hanging free at her side, she swept the stunned and silent crowd with cold blue-green eyes. “You have wronged the innocent, people of Wahi-Po. Those of you who had reason to resent the boy let your prejudice blind you and the rest are no better, following blindly the lead of their fellows. And you, elders of the Kauna, you didn't stay to hear the boy, but condemned him to a lingering death and went placidly back to your wallows. Loahn. Join me here.”

Loahn stepped through the curtains and stood behind her, facing the chastened Kauna.

“You owe him reparation, elders of Wahi-Po. First, you will return to him his birthright, his place in the community of Wahi-Po and his father's holdings. Yes?”

Firstman Pukili tightened his fingers around the staff until the bones of his hands stood out in high relief. Reluctantly he bowed his head, then straightened. “Mele. Sound the summoning.”

The big woman dipped her head in curt response. Freeing the rope from the cleat she hauled powerfully on it. Once-twice. Once-twice. Once-twice. The great bell rang out in the thrice repeated double note that summoned the people of Wahi-Po to meeting with the Kauna. After settling the feather cloak until it hung unruffled over her broad shoulders, Mele stepped back to her place behind Firstman.

“Be it heard.” Firstman Pukili's voice rose in a high chant. He knocked the butt of the staff three times on the pavement. “Be it heard.” With the others trailing wordlessly behind, their staffs hitting solidly on the pavement in unison with his, Firstman circled the two caravans, repeating again and again the formal call. Too frightened to indulge his curiosity about the others in this mis-mated group who had come to disturb his peace, he hurried with as much dignity as possible through the obligatory round and stopped when he faced Aleytys once more. A final time he beat his staff against the black and white tiles, waited while the others one by one signified their assent by echoing his action, then continued with his chant.

“Be it known. Loahn, son of Arahn father clan Hawk son of Selura mother clan Moon, wrongfully accused and cast out from home and birthright, we call you home to your people. We say to you we are under the frown of Lakoe-heai. We plead with you to forgive us, to take the cloud from us. Son of Arahn, stand in the clan hall of your father's house, master of men and beasts, master of the land in your father's holding.” Pukili licked his lips eyes fixed on Loahn's expressionless face.

“That is not enough.” Aleytys spoke softly, her words bringing a sickly smile to Pukili's face. “For one month, Loahn son of Arahn hungered with none to give him food or warmth. He thirsted but could only steal a mouthful of water deep in the protection of night. When I came upon him, led to him by the will of the Lakoe-heai, he was bones wrapped in sunburnt skin, dying from a festering wound, the stump of a broken arrow protruding from his back. Elders of the Kauna, I hold you at cost for these things. One month it was. Times Three. Three stallions of the finest. Three brood mares in foal. Three times three pieces of gold.” She stroked the soft fur of the speaker. “You who sent me to the boy, is that sufficient?”

The small one rubbed himself blissfully against her hand. Opening translucent eyelids, he swung eyes filled with a malicious glee over the people. “Barely, sister. Barely. And the giving better be free-handed and ungrudging. We hate a cheerless giver.” He snuggled back against her head and closed his eyes.

Aleytys nodded to the Kauna. “You hear?”