The Tower of Il Serrohe (13 page)

“‘
I am Nersite,’ I said, ‘a young warrior of the rear lines of battle, but most of the time I help Niddle-ai make and repair furniture while he teaches me Nohmin stories, so I can take his place as Master Storyteller someday. My signascent is—’

“‘
Roasted piñon nut. You think I have no nose?’ he sneered.

“‘
Well, it’s just that Nohmin are more sensitive of nose.’

“‘
True, and those of Il Serrohe are more sharp of eye,’ he said as if repeating a worn out phrase. ‘And I suppose that’s why I’m deposited here in this dark, stifling little hole!’ His voice was bordering on mania because of this room. It bothered me, too.

“
He ate in silence, venting his anger by the manner he chewed. He must have imagined the bread to be the flesh of Nohmin. As he finished, he raised his eyes to the shining ceiling.

“‘
What of my footprints preceding me?’

“
He sobbed softly and hung his head. He was so still I could have sworn he had become a lump of clay.

“
I lit a lamp, and he stirred slightly. I could see that his headband was as shining blue as was the bell strap that draped from his right shoulder and across his chest, finally attached to the waistband on his left hip. He clutched the bell strap and started to shake it causing the little room to be filled with ringing sounds of great complexity. There was no rhythm to it, only the vibration of various pitches of a chord distinctive for this one person. Each Soreye had his own collection of bells that formed a unique chord.

“‘
That’s a fascinating sound—’

“‘
C sharp augmented. The mode of a priest.’

“‘
You’re a priest?’

“‘
Yes, though not of the Inner Circle. I am a priest of the Time Chant.’

“‘
Oh.’”

“
The Soreye religion was strange and complex. Yet, characteristically, it was a means for them to manipulate nature and so complemented their chief objective of bending everything to their will.

“‘
Uh, I didn’t catch your name. As I said before, I’m Nersite—’

“‘
Yes, I heard. I hear the breathing of over three hundred Nohmin in this rat hole. I miss little of what is said in here.’ He sighed. ‘I am Scarflue.’

“‘
Then you must know that Soreyes are—’

“‘
Outside. Oh yes, and I doubt they will overrun you and find my corpse at this depth—this grave! When you all die of starvation they will simply seal up the holes and leave. Oh, Most High and Tower, I will molder here among Nohmin bodies! Never the sun over the Plains to see,’ he cried aloud dramatically. Perhaps a ritual mourning.

“
As awkward as it was with bound hands, he began to tear his cloak and throw dust on his chest. I had to get out.

“
When I returned he was softly singing his chant.

“‘
What of the suns to come?

…
Return in the dawn.’”

“‘
I don’t know what to say. It is cruel to be buried down here,’ I said.

“‘
Cruel? In war? And what do you think we would do? The forest beyond the Tohmay Steeples is a slow death sentence. This is war. A stupid foolish war that will destroy us all.’

“
This was unexpected. A Soreye that despised squashing Nohmin heads in battle?

“‘
Then why do you fight?’ I asked.

“‘
By the Sands of Il Serrohe! For my people and their vision of living off the bounty of Nohwood. The desert has its limits, you know.’

“‘
But
we
don’t want your desert… only about a square mile of open land for our Place of Homes. That and a few trees to bind the soil of our root homes.’

“‘
Ah, the peace of the open desert. Yes, even you know the value of open land as opposed to thick clumps of trees. Too many places for Soreyes, as you call us, to hide, eh? So you wish to clear some of
our
desert for your security? How wonderful! While we eat the curds of goat’s milk?’ He stopped with a deep sigh of resignation. ‘And my people braid the rope of their own hanging. Wonderful.’

“‘
What are you talking about?’

“
Giving me a wild-eyed look for an answer, his head fell forward jamming his chin into his scrawny chest. He moaned and mumbled ancient chants in a language I didn’t recognize. Like us, they probably had a ritual language that was not in the common tongue of the inhabitants of Valle Abajo.

“
As the sound of his bells jangled softly and irregularly, I left the room to seek out Niddle-ai and Narknose.”

twenty nine

“‘
A stand-off?’ Niddle-ai barked at me.  ‘They’ll simply re-supply until we starve. But this Time Chant business is something we haven’t heard before. I wonder if it has anything to do with our Time
less
Chant?’

“‘
How could that have anything to do with the Tower?’ I asked.

“
Narknose cut in. ‘There’s no telling because we’ve never been too sure of how the Tower helps them. Sure, they can see more of the valley and mesa from there, but their village is on the cliffs—which already has a good vantage point… still, in past times, the presence of the Tower meant they had control over the valley.’

“‘
The clans of Valle Abajo were their slaves until the Tower was destroyed because of the last Great One Hundred Years’ Storm. The adobes of the Tower were knocked down into piles of rubble. They didn’t rebuild, for some reason, and in a couple of winters the beings of the Valle freed themselves of the Soreyes and left them to their desert.’

“‘
Well,’ Niddle-ai blustered, ‘we can’t be wringing our hands and waiting about for another freak storm!’ He paused. “How long has it been since the last one?’

“
Narknose laughed. ‘My great-grandfather and your grandfather were young warriors, so it hasn’t been long enough. But it doesn’t have to be
exactly
a hundred years between storms.’

“‘
You may well laugh, Narknose, but we’ve got only two weeks of food, provided we ration it strictly. Not much chance that a storm will blow down the Tower in two weeks.’

“
The two elders were silent. I took that as my cue.

“‘
Isn’t there a way we can get out and bring back food?’

“
Niddle-ai brightened. ‘Yes, I remember an emergency exit from my great-grandfather’s tales. It was used once in a forest fire. It’s a ventilation shaft, quite narrow, that leads to a hollowed out ash tree in the forest at the southern edge of a meadow north of here. There is a risk of being seen by Soreyes, but not much as they will hover close around Nohome to pounce as we emerge, or the stench of death reaches their dull noses.’

“‘
Then everyone can escape!’ I shouted, laughing.

“‘
Not so fast,’ Narknose said. ‘Yes, I do remember something of a sort from the old stories. Unfortunately, not everyone can leave. The passageway is long and old, so it may have caved in. At best, a few strong people could
maybe
crawl out. But how could they bring back enough food to feed all of us over time? Besides, the exit would eventually be discovered.’

“‘
Then we must go for help,’ I said firmly.

“
Narknose looked at me as if he were about to put me in my place, but then…

“‘
Yes… help. The boy, uh, young man has a point. But who can help us?’

“
Niddle-ai hooted. ‘Help, indeed. The Taurimin are dull-minded farmers with only magic enough to grow corn and squash. I don’t think they would even notice being made slaves by the Soreyes. The bats of Lookgosee Island are too fragile to hold up against Soreye clubs and spears besides seeming little interested in our plight. The counselors and curanderas of Piralltah could heal our wounds, but they are no warriors.

“‘
So where the hell is our help supposed to come from?’ Niddle-ai continued to rattle off the list of clans. ‘The
Càhbahmin
are great warriors, but they are currently without a leader and, because of their size and strength, they
think
they aren’t as threatened by the Soreyes as the rest of the clans. The
Kastmin
don’t want to be bothered, although they may have no choice.

“‘
The
Corvimin
and the
Sianox
are too interested in what
they
can steal to be bothered with thieves and savages like the Soreyes.

“‘
And the Northern Lands? Who knows their language? Why would
they
help?— ’

“‘
Shut up, Niddle-ai!” Narknose screamed. ‘Your “optimism” is overwhelming!’

“
I had never seen Narknose pull rank on Niddle-ai so openly.

“
Narknose continued. ‘Think back, old man. We are talking of ancient times, threats, passageways. But what about ancient solutions? Well, maybe not so ancient. What took place just
before
the Great Hundred Years’ Storm that humiliated the Soreyes?’

“
It was a real question.

“
Niddle-ai thought. Then his eyes betrayed the old sparkle. ‘Of course! You’re talking about the curandera who came from, from some other place—’

“‘
It was called The Other Valley, according the Pia and Pita of Piralltah Steeples. Teresa the Tall One. She was young but possessed great magic and determination, even if she didn’t deliver the final blow to their Tower.’

“‘
Niddle-ai, our young warrior here has not heard that tale. Tell it so he will know it when his time comes to be the Storyteller.’

“
Niddle-ai smiled slightly, trying to remain humble yet self-important enough to impress me.

“‘
Nersite, this story will take practice because some details were given to me by the bats, particularly Nightwing. He has a fancy way of talking. He gathered it from his great-grandfather when Teresa shared her story with him after overhearing what had happened in the Soreye village.’”

Nersite paused significantly, checking to see if Don was paying attention. He took a swig of mint tea and continued more deliberately, since he did not have much practice telling Teresa’s story.

“
And so the following tale is as it was taught to me by Niddle-ai.”

thirty

Teresa and the Soreye Plague

“
In Valle Abajo there had not been a plague in many generations. By following the hygiene taught by the curanderas, the spread of any sickness was usually kept to one individual, sometimes a family. Neither a clan nor whole village had suffered the pain, the putrid bleeding, and the strangling of breath a plague could bring.

“
Then the ‘Drowning Plague’ swept like wildfire among the beings of the Valle. Those infected would first feel an insatiable thirst for several hours with heavy sweating, then urination that burned and would not stop. The more water one drank, the more urination. After five days, the ability to urinate stopped and the person would begin to swell. Their lungs filled with so much fluid they literally would drown.

“
Sometimes, swollen arms and legs would be lanced to release accumulated fluid, but there was no stopping the drowning in the lungs. When one started sweating, they were as good as dead.

“
After several weeks, brought by Pia and Pita’s reports of the tragedy, Teresa came on her first visit from the Other Valley since the plague had started. Only a couple of winters had passed since the sisters had begun traveling between the valleys. Strangely, Teresa claimed it had only been one winter. So there seemed to be a difference between the valleys no one understood. Anyway, on their first adventure, the three traveled the Valle asking questions, tracing the plague to its first signs.

“
It began with a Taurimin farmer who had traded dried red chiles for Soreye goat cheese. From that point, it spread to his family and other farmers. Then, a bat who had sampled Soreye goat cheese caught it.

“
Yet others had eaten that cheese and suffered no ill effects. Even after the plague started, some cheese proved harmless. Teresa, not knowing the reputation of the Soreyes, insisted on going to their village with her sisters.
No one
visited the Soreyes unless in a slave cage.

“
Nevertheless, they went and so began a confrontation that has been handed down word-for-word.

“
The sight of the black-haired curandera who stood so straight and was nearly as tall as the Soreyes caused quite a stir among the clanspeople.”