Overheard in a Dream (17 page)

Neither of them expected to see the light of holy candles fall across the mud-packed floor, nor glimpse the holy Seer, clad in flowing robes, the golden circlet on his head, looking like a god himself as he came in the room. But there he was. Da pulled back the hides to show him where they lay and the Seer’s sacred dagger glinted in the light. He reached down and wrapped his fingers through Torgon’s hair. Seared into Mogri’s memory of that night was the look on Torgon’s face as the Seer pulled her to the ground to cut her hair: a look of desolate bewilderment, a look hares have when they are trapped and know that certain death awaits
.

It had felt most peculiar to Mogri when returning to the compound to know that Torgon resided now within the holy cells as the divine benna. Theirs was a close family and she and Torgon had been inseparable. They’d played together and shared their food, fought and argued and suffered all the petty jealousies that any sisters do. Mogri had thought many things about Torgon during their growing years together, but holy had not been one of them
.

Three months passed and in that time Mogri did not see her sister once. The Seer explained that the new benna communed with Dwr. and awaited the coming of the Power. This unsettled Mogri. The new benna sounded strange and austere, as if she were someone Mogri had never known
.

Then one night while Mogri was on her pallet in the acolytes’ sleeping area, she heard a noise in the washroom, an odd, uneven
rasping sound that did not filter clearly through the thick stone walls. Mogri rose up on one elbow to listen better
.

On the adjacent pallet, Linnet moved. “What’re you doing?” she whispered through the darkness
.

“
I’m listening to that sound in the washing room.
”

“
Aye, I know. It’s disturbing me too.
”

Then Minsi on the other side asked sleepily. “Why are you talking?”

“
Someone’s being noisy in the washing room,” Linnet said.

“
Ignore it.
”

“
I’ve tried. I can’t. And it’s woken Mogri too. Whoever’s in there should be cuffed.
”

“
Don’t be stupid,” Minsi replied. “It’ll be the divine benna or the Seer and you can’t cuff them.
”

“
I’ve cuffed the divine benna plenty in my day,” Mogri offered
.

“
Aye, as a sister. But she’s not your sister now. So go back to sleep. Both of you. And stop your talking or it’s we who’ll be cuffed.” Then Minsi rolled over on her other side and pulled her cover up
.

What was the noise? Mogri could not ignore it. It came now as a more syncopated sound, but remained too muffled through the walls for Mogri to make out
.

Perhaps the Power had come over Torgon, Mogri thought. She had no idea what the Power really was, only that holy bennas had it. So who knows how it might show itself? Perhaps it would cause Torgon to fall down and writhe the way Mogri had seen a man do once within the marketplace
.

Or perhaps it was not the Power. Perhaps Torgon had fallen ill and these were the sounds of her emptying her stomach
.

If Torgon had fallen ill, Mam would be so upset. She’d always fretted over Torgon so. At the slightest sneeze she’d burn the
cleansing oils until the house and everybody’s clothes would reek and once she’d even brought in the wise woman for Torgon’s chest. It had cost Da more eggs than he could find in a full turning of the moon. Mogri still remembered going with him to the cliffs to pilfer from the nests of the high-flying hawks
.

If there was something wrong, Mogri knew she should try to help. Mam would expect that of her
.

Did she dare? They were forbidden to leave the sleeping quarters without permission
.

Cautiously she rose and tiptoed noiselessly through the rows of sleeping acolytes and out the door. Silent as a shadow she moved past the rooms where holy women slept, past the Seer’s cells
.

Light was seeping from beneath the door of the holy benna’s cells. Mogri paused, then without knocking she simply lifted up the latch and entered
.

Torgon was in the inner cell. When she saw Mogri, she jumped in surprise and gave a small, startled cry. Mogri jumped herself because at first glimpse she didn’t recognize her sister
.

“
Is that
you?”
she queried, squinting hard against the light
.

Torgon had grown gaunt and pale, and her hair, completely shorn the night the Seer had come into their family’s hut, was barely more than stubble now, giving Torgon a boyish look. Only by her eyes, still pale as the winter sky, did Mogri know for certain it was her sister, and on seeing them, she knew too what caused the noise. Torgon had been crying
.

“
Whatever are you doing here?” Torgon hissed. “You must
go.
Immediately. This is my private cell. No one’s allowed in here but me.
”

“
But I’m your sister, Torgon.” No. No, she wasn’t. Not any longer. Dwr had stripped Torgon of all human ties when he had made a god of her
.

“
You shouldn’t use my name,” Torgon said, her voice grown softer. “You must get used to that or the Seer will take his stick to you.” She brought a hand up and wiped her eyes. “And you must go. Or he’ll take his stick to me.
”

“
I heard you in the washing room and feared that you were ill. I only came because I worried.
”

Lowering her head, Torgon said wearily “Thanks for your concern, but I am well. Go now, quickly, before someone notes that you are gone.
”

“You look not well to me. Truth is, you look most unhappy to my eyes. Here. Take the comfort of my arms.”

“Mogri, I’m not playing at some game. I am the holy benna now. You must not touch me.”

“No one is here to see. What would it matter between the two of us?”

“Things are different now.”

“Do you want them different, Torgon?”

“No,”
she said piteously and began to weep again. “But if the Seer comes at me just one more time, I know I’ll break.
”

Crossing the room, Mogri sat down on the bed and gently put an arm around Torgon’s shoulder. “You’re worker kind and made of tougher stuff than he.” She leaned near to kiss her sister’s cheek. “And you are still my sister too, no matter what the teachings say. Da’s blood runs yet in both our veins, and even Dwr can not change that. I will not give up the right to call you by your name. I love you much too well for that.”

Torgon didn’t answer. She only sat, her head still down
.

Mogri glanced sideways at the fine, embroidered cloth of the benna shirt. She looked then at Torgon’s stubbly hair and tentatively brought a finger up to touch it. “Does it itch, when it’s growing out like that?” she asked
.

In spite of herself Torgon turned her head and smiled. “Silly question, Mogri. Only you would think to ask it at a time like this.
”

“Well, so? Does it? It looks as if it would. And I must admit, I don’t like it much. Such a style doesn’t suit your face.”

“Do you forget I didn’t have a choice?”

A small silence came then. Torgon snuffled noisily and gave her eyes a final dab, examining the tears on her fingertips before wiping them on her shirt
.

“
What’s it like?” Mogri asked. “Being the divine benna, I mean. Being holy. Do you now feel very different than when you lived with us
?”

“
No.
”

“’
No? So did you
always
feel holy?” she asked in surprise. “Because if you did, you kept it very well disguised.
”

Torgon grinned. “No. Hardly, Mogri. I never felt that I was holy. Truth be said, I don’t feel holy now.
”

“
It’s a most astonishing thing. You must admit. Mam still can’t believe it’s happened. But Da, he’s quite adjusted, and he’s so proud of you.
”

“
Don’t talk of this. You’ll make me cry again.” She lowered her head and brought a hand up over her eyes. “Do you know what night this should have been? My wedding night. This very moment I should be wearing that beautiful robe Mam had on the loom and dancing with Meilor at our marriage feast. Look me instead, sitting here, not knowing what to do, not knowing who I am. Not even fit,” she said, gesturing to her shorn head, “to be called a woman.
”

“
Doesn’t the Power tell you what to do?” Mogri asked. “For I’d rather assumed it would.
”

“
Power
? What
Power? What
is
the Power anyway?” Torgon asked
. “I
don’t know. I wasn’t taught that in the fields. nor when working at the loom.
”

Mogri sat in bewildered silence
.

“
You know what my life is like?” Torgon asked. “If it is daylight I am not allowed to leave this room. If it is night I am not allowed to sleep. I may not even approach the window, if it’s not the Seer’s wish. The only soul I see is him. The only human flesh I feel is his when under guise of holy rites he relieves his lust with me. Otherwise, I sit. Alone. Each day, all day, and every day. ‘Communing with Dwr’, the Seer calls it. But what is that? I wish I knew. For my part I’m only sitting. And when I’m not sitting, I am with him. And if I don’t do things exactly as he says, he takes his staff to me, as if I were naught but a stupid cow in need of breaking to the yoke.
”

“And Dwr allows this? Because the divine benna is holier than the Seer.”

“I don’t know what Dwr allows. I don’t know anything except that I am suffering. Why has this happened to me, Mogri? I never aspired to anything more than being my mother’s daughter, who knew happiness in work. How is it that I am now on this other path?”

“L
ook at the marbles!” Morgana said, holding up a jar.

James grinned and nodded.

“You got such good stuff in this room.” She brought the container over to the table. “There’s a million colours. Aren’t they pretty?” Taking the lid off, she put her hand in to swish the marbles around with her fingers. “I got some like these, but they’re not so nice. I put mine in the fish tank.”

Morgana lifted the container up to eye level and peered through them. “Know what? If you look through them like this, they make everything look wavy and green and pink and blue. You want to try?” She held the jar out to James. “Here. See the way they make everything look.”

James obliged.

Tipping her head, Morgana watched him. “Can you tell me something?” she asked.

“What’s that?”

“What exactly are you supposed to do with marbles?” she asked.

“There used to be a game of marbles. I don’t know if children play it anymore, but I played it a lot when I was your age,” James replied.

“Oh, I like games!” Morgana said enthusiastically. “Will you show me how?”

Leaving his chair, James beckoned her down on the carpet. He took a handful of marbles and felt unexpected pleasure at the sensation of the small spheres rolling around in his hand. Marbles had been hard currency on the playground of his youth and he’d been good at the game. He could still remember the gratification of winning steelies off the other boys, of their clicky weight in his pocket.

Morgana wasn’t so impressed. At six she didn’t have the coordination necessary for good control and her efforts at shooting resulted in their rolling off her finger unpredictably. After a few moments of playing, she said with strained politeness, “It’s an okay game.”

James rose and dusted off the knees of his trousers.

“I can tell you who
would
think these were neat, though,” she said, stirring the jar of marbles again with her hand. “The Lion King. He just loves to play games like this. There’s this game he plays at home with his cousin and he showed me how. It doesn’t need anything you buy. We were down at the creek, so he showed me how we could play it using stones and drawing the game board design in the dirt. So I bet you he’d just love these marbles.”

Putting the lid back on the jar, Morgana returned it to the shelf.

“Guess what?” she said as she came back to the table.

“What’s that?”

“Me and the Lion King had a bad argument. I got mad at him.”

“Why was that?” James asked.

“’Cause he can be really stubborn sometimes.” Pulling out a chair at the table, Morgana sat down. “If you don’t agree with him, he won’t listen.”

“That sounds annoying.”

“It is. I was going to do this really nice thing for him. We got this book about tigers and how they’re getting endangered and stuff, and it’s got lots of really good pictures, so I knew he’d like to see it. I was supposed to put the book back, ’cause Mum said I wasn’t to take it outside, but I didn’t. I snuck it under my sweater like this,” she said, demonstrating with her hands. She laughed conspiratorially. “Then I went really fast out the door and down to the creek to meet the Lion King.