Lost Lands of Witch World (65 page)

I did not realize the significance of what they had done at once, not until I saw those who held the sled dogs use their knives to kill quickly and painlessly. Then those furred servants were taken to join the human ones below. I started forward—perhaps it was still not too late . . . Visma, Atorthi—they must not—

Ifeng caught my shoulder and his strength was such that he held me helpless as the warriors laid the dogs outside the tent in the pit and fastened their leashes to stakes, as if they slept and did not darken the earth with seeping blood. And, though I wanted to run into that hole and bring out those two who had been Utta's women, I knew there was no use in trying. They had already followed their mistress beyond that last curtain from which there is no return.

I no longer struggled against Ifeng, but stood quiet in his grip, though I shivered now and then with the cold of this barren place. So I watched the members of the tribe, men, women, children, to the youngest baby at a painted breast, walk or be carried past the pit. And into it each threw some token, even the baby's hand being guided by his mother to do so. Weapons fell from men's grasps, the glint of gold from women. Small treasured boxes of scented ointment, dried delicacies of food, each gave a treasure, their greatest personal possession, I believed. I knew then the full of their regard for Utta. It must have seemed to them that a whole way of life had died with her, since she had dwelt among them for generations and was a legend while still in their midst.

The men drew then to one side and they had with them the bark shovels, the ropes for pulling stones, all they had used to dig this place and would now need to cover it from the light of day. But the women gathered around me and they took me back with them to the camp. However, they did not leave me alone in my tent.

Ayllia came with me, and several of the older women, though among them was not the chief 's first wife, Ausu. When I had seated myself on one of the cushions sewn of hide and stuffed with sweet grass, Ayllia boldly pulled up another equal with it. At her move I saw several of the others frown uneasily. While I did not understand what lay in the future, I thought it well then to assert myself. Utta had named me seeress before Ifeng; I had no intent, however, of binding my future to the Vupsalls as she had done. Once I broke the rune ties on the mat I would be away.

But to achieve that desire I must have quiet and leisure to study with what power I had regained. And it looked as if that was about to be denied me.

At any rate, for a Wise Woman to accept Ayllia as an equal, chief's wife
though she was, would be a grave error. I must make certain from the start that they held me in awe, or else lose the small advantage I did have.

So I turned swiftly to look full at the girl, and my voice was sharp as I asked, though perhaps my grasp of their tongue was halting: “What would you, girl?” I copied such a tone as I had heard Utta use upon occasion, which was such as the Wise Women brought to their command in the Place of Silence when a novice strove to be more than she was.

“I be she who places hand to hand.” She did not quite meet my gaze; in that she showed uneasiness. But her answer was pert and had a defiant note in it: “So I am beside you.”

If I knew more of her meaning I might have been prepared. As it was I could only move by instinct and that told me that I must preserve my superiority before any of the tribe.

“To One Who Sees Before do you so speak, girl?” I demanded coldly.

By ignoring her name and speaking as one who knew it not because such small matters were of no concern, I put upon her the shame of lessening in the eyes of the others. Perhaps I was doing wrong in making an enemy, but she was already my unfriend, as I sensed when we first came face to face, and I might lose more by a try for conciliation.

“To one who needs me to place hand to hand I speak,” she began, when someone else entered the tent.

She walked with difficulty, leaning on the arm of a young girl with unpainted breasts and a plain face marred by a red brand down one cheek. The newcomer was an older woman, her towering pile of hair streaked with gray which silvered the bold red coloring. Her broad face was additionally swollen, as her ungainly body was fat, her breasts great puffy pillows. It was not a natural stoutness but a bloat, and she carried other signs of ill health which made me wonder why she had not been among those who sought out Utta's aid during the weeks I had trailed with them.

Two of the women by the door made haste to rise and draw forward the cushions on which they had been sitting, piling one upon the other to give greater height for the stranger, it being manifest that she would find it difficult to get to her feet otherwise.

To this seat she was lowered by her attendant and she sat there for a long moment breathing heavily, both hands pressed to her huge breasts as if to ease some pain there. At the sight of her Ayllia came to her feet, moving back to the wall of the tent, her sullen pout more pronounced, yet that slight uneasiness with which she had faced me had become almost fear.

The maidservant went on her knees to one side so that she could look from her mistress to me.

“This be”—her voice was barely to be heard above the harsh breathing of her mistress—“Ausu of the Chief Tent.”

I raised my hands and made a gesture of one tossing or sowing, which I had learned from Utta. So I acknowledged the introduction.

“Ausu, mother of men, ruler of the Chief Tent, be blessings and more good than can be held in the two hands of all, on you!”

Her panting breath seemed to ease somewhat and I remembered now that alone of the tribe she had not been among those who had ushered Utta to her last resting place. It was plain to see why: her great bulk, her poor state of health would have made such an effort impossible. Now she parted her blubber lips to speak for herself.

“Utta spoke to Ifeng; she left you behind to smooth our paths.” She paused as if expecting some answer or confirmation from me. I gave her what I could.

“So Utta said.” Which was true but did not admit that I agreed with the seer-ess's high-handed ordering of my future.

“As with Utta then you come under Ifeng's hand,” Ausu continued, her voice wheezing sometimes so it was difficult to understand her words, each of which whistled from her with visible effort. “I come to place hand for you. And you, being what you are, will now be head in Ifeng's tent.”

Her head turned a fraction on her ponderous shoulders, just enough to allow her to favor Ayllia with a glance so cold and menacing that I was startled. Ayllia did not drop her eyes.

But it was no time to mark any byplay between these two wives of the chief. For, if I understood them aright—marriage! I was to wed with Ifeng! But did they not know that as a Wise Woman I would forfeit the power they needed by coming under any man's hand? Or would I? My mother had not. Perhaps that was superstition only, enlarged upon and nurtured by the Wise Women to keep themselves and their rule invulnerable. It was unknown in Escore. I knew that Dahaun did not anticipate any lessening of her gifts when she gave her final word to my brother and became the core of his house as well as his heart. And Utta herself had spoken of being the consort of Ifeng's long ago predecessor in the chieftainship.

Whether or not such a union was in truth a threat to my partly regained power, it was a threat to myself and one which I would not yield to unless this barbarian overlord took me by force. And there lay within close distance of my hand now such measures as would render me cold meat in his bed should the worst come. But before that last extremity there were other ways of escape, and at least one came to my mind now. None of these women could read my thoughts and I might prepare—if I had the time—such an answer as would satisfy all concerned for a space.

So did I trust I had not betrayed my surprise, which I might have well anticipated had I been only a little quicker of wit. But rather I again made a gesture of good will toward Ausu and said, “The Mother of Many does me honor as is meet
between two who are as sisters,” making a claim of equality as I would not do with Ayllia. “Though we have not shared the same cup as becomes those born of one mother, yet there shall be no forewalker or aftergoer between us.”

I heard a murmur from the women about us as that refusal of her offer of headship over Ifeng's household was spoken, and I knew they would accept my words as binding.

She continued to eye me for a space, those eyes, half buried in her cheek and nose, on mine. Then she sighed, and the stiff erectness of her shoulders sagged a little. I was able to understand the iron will which had brought her to me, the determination which had led her to do what she believed right.

I hastened to make sure that what I needed most, my privacy, would be allowed me.

“I am not as Ausu,” I told her. I leaned forward and dared to take her puffy hands gently into mine. “As Utta I talk with spirits and so must have a tent to offer them room when they would visit me.”

“That is so,” she agreed. “Yet a wife comes to her master. And Utta abode part of the night with Ifeng when there was need.”

“As is the custom,” I agreed in return, my mind busy with my own answer for that. “Yet do I live apart. And, sister, is there not something which I can do for you? Your body ails, perhaps the spirits can find a cure—”

The oily rolls of fat making her face twisted. “It is the evil from the north. You have not been long enough with us, sister, to know. This is a sending upon me for foolishness I wrought. Ah—” She broke my hold and put her hands once more to her breasts as she cried out in sudden pain. And her handmaid hurried to bring forth a capped cup made of horn, unstoppering it quickly and giving her to drink. Some of the colorless liquid dribbled from her lips to leave sticky trails across her wealth of chins. “A sending,” she repeated in a whisper. “There is no answer save to bear it to my grave pit.”

I had heard of such curses—illness of spirit attacking those who wittingly or unwittingly intruded upon some one of the pools of old evil, reflecting in the body the ill of soul. It would require very great power to defeat such. But this was the first time among the Vupsall I had come across any sign of some brush with the ancient ills of Escore.

There was a sudden clashing from without a loud, metallic clatter which startled me. From the women arose in answer a crooning song. Ifeng? Had my bridegroom come to claim me? But not yet! I had not had time to prepare. What might I do? And I lost most of my sureness in that moment.

“Ifeng comes.” Ayllia pushed closer, though I noticed she did not go too near her superior in the household. “He seeks his bride.”

“Let him enter.” There was dignity in Ausu in spite of her grotesque body.

The other women drew back against the wall, with them Ausu's maidservant.
When Ayllia did not follow them Ausu turned on her once more that glare which had force enough to move her.

Then the head wife raised her voice in a call. The flap was raised and Ifeng bowed his head beneath it, coming to Ausu's right. Her puffy hand groped out and he held his hard brown one where she might take it, though neither of them looked to the other, but rather to me.

I did not read in his face what I had seen earlier in his nephew's—that which promised me shame. Rather he was impassive, as one who went through a task set upon him by custom and which was part of the dignity and responsibility of chieftainship. But over his shoulder I saw Ayllia's face clearly and there was no mistaking her expression: jealous rage which burned with a fierce flame.

Ifeng knelt beside the vast bulk of his first wife and now she held her left hand to me and I set mine within it, so that she brought my palm against his as earlier Utta had done. Her wheezing breath formed words I did not understand, perhaps in some archaic speech. Then her hands dropped away leaving us joined in our own grasp. Ifeng leaned farther forward and with his other hand pulled aside the metallic veil which I had draped as closely about my shoulders as I could striving to gain from it some small measure of protection against the cold. Then his fingers came down on my breasts, stripping away the paint there as one would strip away clothing. At that moment the women about the sides of the hut gave a cry which had a queer ring—not unlike that Utta had given at her death, so might they have marked some victory.

How far Ifeng proposed to go now was my growing concern. I had had no chance to take the precautions I had planned. But it seemed that the ceremony was now at an end. And, perhaps because she knew I did not know their customs well, Ausu courteously gave me the clue I needed as to the next step, and one which would carry out my own desires.

“The plate and cup now to be shared, sister. And to this tent blessing. . . . ”

The maid and women swooped forward and hoisted her to her feet. I arose also to do her honor, bowing her out of the tent. Ayllia had already vanished, probably so angered by my new tie with her lord that she had no wish to witness more.

Ifeng was seated on one of the cushions when I returned and I went straightaway to Utta's chest of herbs. From it I took some dried leaves which could turn one of their ordinary brews into a fine feast-drink. These I added to the goblets which were brought on a tray to the door of the tent and shoved under the flap as if no one would now disturb us.

When he saw what I did Ifeng's eyes lighted, for Utta's stores were relished. And he waited with greedy eagerness while I dropped a few more leaves into his goblet, stirred them well with a rod.

It is not always necessary to say a spell aloud; the will being directed toward the needed result is what matters most. And my will was firm that night, the
firmer for my need. I added nothing Ifeng could see except an herb he knew well, but what I added by thought was the first step in my plan of salvation.

At least Utta had not tied me in this as she had with the mat runes. Ifeng drank; he ate from the plate we shared. Then he nodded and slept. And from Utta's chest I took a long thorn of bright red. About that I wrapped two hairs pulled living from my head, and I spat upon it, saying certain words against which Ifeng's ears were now safely closed.