Sage Truth [Book 2 of the Teadai Prophecies] Page 30
Haranda was proud of these new-oathed women, her former younglings. As proud as a any mother would be, though the bond between them had already shifted to that of sister and friend. Even her motherly feelings toward Eletha were changing. Curious the way the Goddess worked Her powers on them.
She concentrated on the awareness that had filled her ever since she took in the Energy but there was no place to shelter this many. Hunter Forest was the safest choice. If they could get there. The wind picked up, bringing gusts that now threatened to overturn wagons and made travel sluggish. Curses found her ears as Bankari scrambled to tie down fallen wares and secure tarps.
The forest looked to be closer than it actually was and that fueled Haranda’s concern. She was responsible for this quest. The Vedi had instructed her to take whatever path needed to keep her kin safe, even if that meant revealing themselves. This storm would only worsen and anything was better than allowing this bloody gale to kill them all. At that thought, a funnel reached down from the sky and began to lengthen. Haranda waited and watched as the winds became a constant barrage against her skin but the thing didn’t dissipate, not this time. All too soon, she felt the sting of dirt and debris picked up by the growing funnel.
She raised her hand to halt her group and they pulled their mounts off the dirt path. “Brak!” The large man turned his gaze from the growing funnel to bellow toward the front of the entourage. Someone passed on the order to stop. Brak then steered his horse toward Haranda with Eletha still attached to his waist.
Haranda dismounted and began to dig through her pack for the red crystal. If they couldn’t fight this storm, they could at least put a protective cocoon around the entire traveling band. The Bankari had stopped. Most watched the skies while others studied the Gypsies. Children wailed, horses whinnied and dogs barked but none grew loud enough to drown out the approaching funnel. Cats had taken cover in wagons or run off altogether. Haranda’s head felt full, stuffed with cotton, and her ears began to ache from the pressure.
The kin knew just what she was attempting and formed a circle. They held hands and left an opening for Haranda between Taniras and Saldia, something they had practiced back in the Land of the Goddess. Only now, the threat was real. Eletha had joined too and Haranda wouldn’t push the treewalker away. She needed every last one of her kin now. Brak watched the little woman with concern but Haranda ordered him to remain with the servants and the mounts. Her plans to secure him as a servant might change after he witnessed what they were about to do. The Bankari might attempt to kill them once this was over but she had to take this chance. Snowy glanced between her and Taniras and she felt for the man. Witnessing a practice session couldn’t compare. His wife was in real danger now. They all were.
Once she located the smooth red, unification crystal that fit into one fist, she took her place in the circle and held it up for all to see. Her kin nodded their understanding. Haranda joined hands with Saldia and Taniras. Her cloak whipped up behind her but she ignored the rising wind. Everyone harnessed the Energy. The crystal pulsated against her palm as the combined Energy flowed through her body and the strength of awareness almost deafened her. The heat of her kin pulsed against her body and she felt each and every one of them in the circle with her, all those who harnessed the Energy. She envisioned a barrier surrounding the circle of kin, and a red, glowing bubble expanded from the Gypsy circle to encompass the servants. Haranda’s breath quickened as the Energy puffed out like a grand bubble and seemed to pull the life from her. Middlings couldn’t see the barrier but they would certainly witness the effects. She couldn’t be certain but it seemed as though the Bankari moved closer to them, and soon they had everyone within the protective shell.
Multiple funnels dipped down from the sky, some dissipating before they reached the ground, others building strength. Three headed straight for them, whipping side to side like exotic dancers in some unbelievable performance.
“Stay focused.” Her own strident voice, amplified by the crystal link, echoed in her mind and caused her to wince. As the funnels came closer, debris pounded against the barrier, against her senses. Taniras squeezed her hand in a painful grip and she glanced at the wolf singer, whose face showed great strain. When she looked out again, the three funnels had combined to create one giant beast of wind. The thing closed in on the travelers, as though it had been sent to destroy them. Women and children screamed and the amplified sound blinded her.
“Silence!” Many Bankari covered their ears in shock but they were quiet.
Pounding had turned to blasts against the barrier and Haranda staggered beneath the weight of resistance. The funnel was on top of them, spinning debris around in a dizzying effect, until she could see nothing through the thick layer of the funnel. The barrier weakened and she sweat with effort to keep it up. She was the glue, the one who held the crystal. She couldn’t fail. They would die if they released the barrier now but they couldn’t withstand much more. Her legs felt as though the bones had gone soft and she fought to stay on her feet, heart pounding and breath labored.
“Stay strong,” she uttered between gulps of air. She gripped the wolf singer’s hand tight enough to cause pain and the woman squeezed back. Goddess, keep us strong.
The barrier held, barely, and soon the giant funnel moved past them, headed straight for Beggar’s Flat. Haranda waited until the thing moved to a safe distance. The huge funnel hung over Beggar’s Flat for several heartbeats, dust and debris spinning furiously, then as suddenly as it started, the storm dissipated. Clouds scattered, the air calmed, and blue skies brightened overhead. Except for the long trench where the funnel had traveled and a few uprooted shrubs and apple trees, there was no evidence of a storm anywhere.
“Release.” Haranda wasn’t the only one who fell to her knees once the link collapsed. In fact, the only Gypsy left standing was Saldia. The Energy seeped from her body and back into the ground below. She tried to hold on but that was useless. It would be at least another sunrise before any of them could harness again. They were now as helpless as middlings.
Saldia crouched and helped her to her feet. Servants aided the rest. Gypsy hunters and guards had created a barrier of their own, placing their bodies and the mounts between the Gypsies and the Bankari. Haranda staggered toward them. Bankari mothers held their children close while the men kept wary eyes on her as they calmed their animals.
Haranda tried again to take in the Energy without success. She turned to her kin. “Can any of you harness?” All shook their heads and she quelled a curse. She would have to depend on the guards and hunters for protection now and nodded to them to be aware.
Several elderly men and women surrounded Mistress Norine. They spoke with their heads close together and gave Haranda’s quest several curious glances. Brak and the burly man from the barrel wagon joined them. The Gypsy guards and hunters had their legs in wide stances, hands near weapons. Hopefully, this wouldn’t turn into a bloody battle.
Mistress Norine, whom Haranda could see clearly between Bar’kobin and Snowy, nodded at the elderly group, walked in the kin’s direction, and stopped just paces from the guard line as one hand rested on the knife at her waist. Her large bosom rose and fell with quick breaths. Several men fell in beside her, including her two husbands. She pulled the knife from its sheath, and the guard line drew weapons.
The tavern mistress eyed them a heartbeat then held her knife flat in her palms and knelt on the ground, lifting the weapon toward the sky. “The Great Mother Goddess has sent her children to our aid,” she said. The rest of the Bankari sank to their knees. Haranda’s jaw went slack and she glanced to Predula, then Saldia and Taniras. “We’ve waited centuries for your return, great cousins.” With that, Mistress Norine stood, knife still flat against her palms, and stepped closer, her path to Haranda still blocked.
“Let her through,” Haranda ordered.
The line parted and the Bankari woman stopped in front of her. “You look surprised, Mistress Haranda.”
“Not until now. All I knew was that I liked you and your brood. Perhaps the Sea Goddess wasn’t angry with us after all.” That got murmurs from the Bankari as they rose to their feet. “Perhaps she sent us out here as witnesses. You serve the Great Mother Goddess, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Saldia placed a restraining hand on Haranda’s arm but she shook the new-oathed woman off.
Mistress Norine focused on the shade walker. “There’s no need to fear us. We’re pledged to the Sea Goddess.” Shouts of agreement sounded from the crowd behind her. “She’s daughter of the Great Mother. We would stain our very lives and those of our children and our children’s children for generations if we turned against you.”
Why had Haranda not figured that out? Yet, there were so many gods that middlings worshipped. Even Gypsies couldn’t know which created loyalty to the Great Mother Goddess. They had so few Gypsies from Bankar, and those among them had been younglings centuries ago.
She looked into the towering woman’s gaze. “Would you swear allegiance to us? To the Great Mother Goddess?”
“We already have.” With that, the tavern mistress held the knife in her right hand and drew the blade across her left palm. “Our blood to yours.” She offered the knife, hilt first.
Haranda had read of such ceremonies. She took the knife and held it in her left hand. With a deep breath, and wishing she could harness the Energy to keep the pain at a distance, she sliced her right palm. The sharp pain was more than she was prepared for and she bit her lower lip to keep from whimpering.
The Bankari woman clasped Haranda’s bloody hand in her own, fingers intertwined, and pressed their palms together, bonding the two halves, right to left. “Together in blood!”
The Bankari echoed her cry.
Haranda made the same announcement and the kin echoed her. Mistress Norine smiled. A lot of commotion followed as several Bankari men came forward to assist the Gypsies with their mounts. One of Mistress Norine’s husbands took her knife and wiped the blood from it with blades of grass, dispersing the droplets into the earth.
Predula inspected Haranda’s palm. “You need healing. Both of you.” Her tired eyes flickered to Mistress Norine.
“No,” the Bankari woman said. “You must not use Goddess powers to heal us. We have made the blood oath. I was chosen by the elders because I housed you. I must wear the binding scar for all Bankari, just as Mistress Haranda must bear hers for your kin.”
With that, the herb mistress called Predula to her. The two brought out needles and gut thread.
“This will hurt,” Predula said as she forced Haranda to sit on one of the wagons.
She groaned when the body-healer poured something over her wound. Then again with every sharp sting of the needle. Thank the Goddess she hadn’t sliced the entire width of her palm. Predula put in six stitches before the bleeding stopped then pressed a cool salve onto Haranda’s palm and wrapped it with a clean cloth, tying the ends over the back of her hand. The herb mistress did the same for the tavern woman and soon both wore bandages.
“Keep those clean and dry,” the Bankari healer ordered.
“Yes, Mistress,” the two patients said in unison.
Mistress Norine let out a belly laugh. “This is a great day. To be reunited with our lost cousins.”
Haranda chuckled. “Yes. But how did you know we followed the Great Goddess?” Had they been discovered in their tavern rooms? Could she have been so foolish to think the Bankari didn’t have spies? Saldia, Taniras and the rest of the kin looked on intently.
“It was decreed many centuries ago in the stories passed down from our ancestors. It’s said that our Sea Goddess, who once ruled over Eternal Spring was stolen from her mother, the Great Goddess, by Cholqhuin, ancient god of the underworld.” She spat to one side and the Bankari mimicked her. She pulled her back straight and raised her voice as though she were a seasoned storyteller. “Spring changed to summer then autumn then winter. The days were constantly cold and harsh. The Great Goddess was so overwrought at the loss of her fairest daughter that she cried the rivers and seas to flood the underworld, pushing the Eternal Fires of Torment to the bottom of the sea.
“Cholqhuin—” the Bankari spat again “—was trapped in the Eternal Fires of Torment. The Great Mother Goddess’s daughter escaped but was forever bound to the waters and took the name Sea Goddess. She was so lonely that the Great Mother took some of her mortal children and put them onto the seas to keep her daughter company and do her bidding. She named them the Bankari.” The Bankari made a sound of high praise. “She then gave others of her mortal children powers, in honor of her lost daughter. She named them Gypsies.” Mistress Norine offered a proud smile.
“The Sea Goddess still rules spring but it takes much effort from her home in the seas, and that’s why we have the seasons, because she can’t hold spring for very long. Our legends say the day will come when the world is tested. Bankari and their cousins will reunite in the name of the Great Mother Goddess and her daughter. They will know their cousins by the grand powers they wield, and together the two sides will strengthen that ancient bond with their very blood.” She smiled at Haranda again. “That this would happen in my life is such an honor.”
Haranda stood stunned for a heartbeat. “As it is for us, Mistress.” Something changed within the Energy, like a hiccup of the growing void, a hesitation, perhaps even a retreat. She still couldn’t harness but she felt something. She’d wager her boots on it. Something enormous had happened and she wanted desperately to speak with Ved’nuri. She glanced at her kin. From the looks on their faces, they felt it too.
“You’ve exhausted yourselves keeping us safe, Mistress Haranda,” the herb mistress scolded.
“Yes. That type of task drains us. We also need food.” Her stomach felt like a cavern and she noticed that Eletha had already found a chunk of bread to nibble on. The treewalker gave her a weary smile as she leaned against Brak for support. He seemed as large as a tree compared to the little woman and Haranda raised a humorous brow at the two.
The herb mistress called for food and walked back to consult with the elders. The sky above shone blue and clear with a few white puffs, and warm air soothed Haranda’s weary muscles.
The old, beggar man hobbled close as he leaned weight on his cane. He knelt before her. “Forgive me, Gypsy. For I’ve been a fool.” With that, his body shimmered and changed. He was still a man but much of the gray in his beard had turned brown, and some of the wrinkles on his face smoothed. His large bulb of a nose thinned and his clothing, once tattered, appeared whole. A footprint of a brown squirrel hovered just above his head.
“Masking Energy,” Haranda uttered. Why hadn’t she felt this errant through the awareness?
“I beg forgiveness, Gypsy. The change came upon me just before my twentieth birthday.” He stood with aid of his cane. “I met you on your previous travels. Near Frog River. I wore a different face then.”
The ocean trip formed in Haranda’s mind. She had just rescued several younglings and was headed to the beach cave. “You were the old man in the trees.” She had asked directions and given him bread in return.
“Yes. I tried to hold him, keep him from destroying more people.” He said that last part as though talking to himself.
“Who?”
His gray eyes widened and she saw torment there. “Death. He lurks in the shadows and takes people, like LeKrep’s boy.” Weeping came from one of the Bankari women. “I couldn’t restrain him long. The leash I had him on broke and he escaped moons ago.”
Nym had seen a man with a monster on a leash. Haranda now knew that was the meaning of the boy’s vision, as clearly as she knew her own name.
The errant studied her. “I’d given up hope of saving anyone from Death until you came. I felt your power.” His eyes fell on Taniras. “When the singer was in trouble, the wolves cried out. I sent out a call to you and your healer. I can’t stop Death once he
appears but I can save someone before they’re too far gone to summon him. Sometimes.” His eyes grew distant, as though he remembered a torment from long ago.
“You’re a sender.” So, that’s who she and Predula had heard in their minds the day Taniras nearly drowned.
“Is that the Gypsy word for what I do?”
Taniras stepped close. “You’re a wolf singer too?”
He laughed a bit too loudly and waved a dismissive half-gloved hand. “No. But I’ve lived among them and can receive messages when they need me. I can’t mindtalk to them. Only a wolf singer has that power.” Black eyes turned back to Haranda. “I was born in Bankar generations ago, but my mother, who wasn’t Bankari, grew up with tales of Gypsies who stole children from their beds. She moved me around until her death. Once the change took me, she said Gypsies had somehow corrupted me. She was afraid I would kill her with my powers so she ran off. I continued to travel and hide in forests and mountains, visiting cities long enough to trade or beg. I feared Gypsies most of my days. But when I saw you near Frog River and how protective you were of the girls in your group, some of that fear disappeared and I followed you to the shore.”
That got Haranda’s hackles up. She should have felt this errant. She crossed her arms and leveled a gaze at the man. “Why didn’t I sense you?”
He shrugged. “Gypsies can’t see through my hedge.” When she gave him a curious look, he continued. “I learned to build a hedge as a young man, keep it all around me. Took me years to do but I managed. It contains my powers so Gypsies don’t feel me.”
“You keep this—hedge—up constantly?”
“Only when Gypsies are near. I can keep it from wilting for close to one moon cycle before the effort drains me. Then I must hide for several sunrises until I can do anything with my powers.”
“What’s your name?”
“My birth name is LeFisk but I’ve gone by Ryder since I can remember.”
“Ryder. Now that I know of you, I must take you with me. You’re what we call an errant. Most don’t live long but those who do are highly valued. We need your strength now. Your Energy.” She didn’t tell him that he would come whether he chose to or not.