A Journey of the Heart by Catherine M. Wilson
"To do her justice," Maara replied, "Vintel would have had to risk lives to do it. She chose not to risk the lives of her friends for the life of a stranger. Her decision may have been understandable, but it didn't endear her to me." She chuckled. "Nor did it endear me to her that I failed to die."
"I imagine not," said Namet. "Laris also told me that Vintel didn't want to take the trouble to bring you home. Laris insisted on it, though they all believed your wounds were mortal. She and Vintel had a serious disagreement about it."
"I didn't know that," whispered Maara. "I've done no more than repay a debt."
Namet and my mother looked puzzled.
"Yesterday Maara saved Laris's life," I told them. "During the battle with the northerners, Laris's sword broke, and she fell. Maara killed the man who would have killed her."
"As Tamras killed the man who would have killed me," said Maara.
Namet said, very softly, "Oh," and reached for Maara's hand.
"Was it his shield you offered to the Lady?" my mother asked me.
I nodded.
Namet's face was grim. "Tell me if I have cause to take Vintel to task about this."
"Not about this," said Maara. "Not unless you would accuse her of being too bold, and this time her boldness endangered everyone."
"Tell me how it happened," Namet said.
So Maara told them about the battle, about the trap the northerners had laid for us and the trap we devised for them in turn, about our retreat, and how she had killed one man only to be knocked down and disarmed by another.
"He was standing over me," she said, "and I thought his face would be the last thing I would see in this world, but an arrow pierced his throat, and he fell."
She looked at me with so much pride that now it was my turn to blush.
It was difficult to tell which mother was more troubled by what she'd heard. Namet grasped Maara's hand so hard that I thought Maara must find it painful, and worry lines furrowed my mother's brow.
Then Namet smiled. "You say it was Vintel's doing that Tamras had the bow?"
Maara nodded.
"How the wicked frustrate themselves!" she said. "Do you think she knows that she thwarted her own designs?"
I remembered the few words I heard Vintel say just before we left her band.
"I believe she does," I said. "Maara was angry with her, and Vintel said it was as well for Maara that I had brought the bow."
My mother turned to Maara. "Why were you angry?"
Maara hesitated. She glanced at me, then replied, "I was angry because what I feared had happened."
"What did you fear?"
"I feared that Tamras would be drawn into something before she was ready to bear the consequences."
My mother looked at me. "And how has she borne them?"
"Very well so far," Maara said, "but it's early yet. We'll have to see."
All of this was news to me.
"I'm fine," I said.
At that moment, sitting in the great hall of Merin's house with these three people who were so dear to me, I felt safe and happy and unburdened.
Maara ignored me.
"I thought you could do a healing for her, Mother," she said to Namet.
My mother looked alarmed. "A healing?"
"Where I come from," Maara told her, "Tamras would now be under-going her initiation as a warrior. I'm glad that's not the custom here, because she still has much to learn, but among my people, there are rituals done for warriors, to remove the blood from their hands so that they can become part of the family of humankind again. Are there such rituals here?"
"Not that I know of," my mother said. "There should be."
"A healing would accomplish much the same thing," said Namet.
Maara saw that the worry hadn't left my mother's eyes.
"It may not be necessary," she said. "Tamras has already begun her own healing."
I thought she must be talking about my dream.
"Still, it can't hurt," said Namet. "After we speak to the Lady, I'll see what I can do." Then she turned to Maara. "How long are you going to keep us in suspense?"
Maara gave her a blank look.
"You haven't yet told us the outcome of the battle."
Then Maara told how Taia had led the unarmed apprentices against the enemy and how the northerners had fled before them. That story lightened the mood a little.
"At what cost did we gain this victory?" Namet asked her.
"None of our warriors were killed," Maara replied, "and only a few were wounded. Tamras tended them with great skill."
My mother turned to me, a pleased smile on her face. "So my daughter practices what I taught her?"
"She does," said Maara. "I owe my life to her skill twice over, both as a healer and an archer."
My mother's eyes were on me still. "An archer," she murmured.
"Are you disappointed?" I asked.
"Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maara hide a smile.
"I thought you would want me to learn to use a sword," I said. "Like you did."
"I wish someone had had the sense to put a bow into my hands," my mother said.
I could hardly have been more surprised. "But you handled a sword well. The Lady told me so."
"Evidently not well enough for her to allow me to go into battle," she said bitterly.
"But you were not yet a warrior."
"Many who were not yet warriors fought in battle then, as did Merin herself."
Namet took my mother's hand. "You were the last of your line, Tamnet," she said, "and she loved you too well to risk losing you too."
It was midafternoon when the Lady sent for me. Namet and Maara got up from their seats by the fire only to be told to stay where they were. Namet started to protest, then thought better of it, so I went alone to the Lady's chamber, where I found her seated by the hearth. She gestured to me to sit down on the hearthstone.
"Are you well?" she asked me.
"Yes, Lady," I said.
"You weren't injured?"
"No."
"I'm glad to hear it. It wouldn't have done for your mother to find you unwell. It wouldn't have done at all." Suddenly she smiled. "Have you had a good visit with her?"
I nodded.
"Good."
She said nothing more for a time, but she didn't seem to be waiting for me to speak. She sat gazing into the fire. Then she said, "I knew the man you killed."
"You knew him? How?"
"He was one of the chieftains who came to seal the peace between our people and the northern tribes."
I was puzzled. The man I killed wasn't old enough to have been a chieftain before I was born. Perhaps she was thinking of his father.
"Tell me what happened," she said.
When I started to tell her about the battle, she stopped me.
"Tell me everything from the beginning," she said. "From the moment you left this house."
And so I told her everything. If it surprised her to hear that it was Vintel who told me to bring my bow, she gave no sign. She listened patiently, gazing into the fire, a faint smile on her face, as if she were listening to a made-up tale. As uncomfortable as her keen eyes often made me, her apparent indifference now made me more uncomfortable. Even the story of Breda's death seemed not to move her.
I told her of the trap the northerners had set for us, of how Vintel had seen it was a trap and warned her warriors of the danger, and of how my warrior had warned Vintel of a danger she hadn't seen. I described the battle as well as I could remember it. I told her about Maara saving Laris's life. Then I came to my part in it.
"The man who bore the wolf shield would have killed Maara if I hadn't killed him first," I said.
"Were you in the fighting?"
"No, Lady. I was still hiding among the rocks, ready to guard the apprentices' retreat."
"I see," she said. "And did the apprentices retreat safely?"
"T
For the first time since I began to speak, the Lady looked at me. "Taia led them in a charge?"
"Yes. It was a brave thing to do. None of the apprentices was armed."
"None but you."
"Yes."
"Where are the northerners now?"
"Gone home," I said. "At least we believe so. They lost many killed and many more wounded."
"When are our people coming home?"
"I don't know. Soon, I think."
She nodded. "Go now," she said, "and send your warrior to me."
Maara was with the Lady for a long time. It was suppertime when they entered the great hall together. While the warriors took their places, the Lady stood behind her chair, waiting for everyone to be quiet.
"We have had good news from the frontier," she said. "Our warriors defeated a large band of northerners and sent them running for home, leaving many dead behind them. Vintel believes we have seen the last of them this year."
Then the Lady turned to Maara, who stood behind her.
"Show them the shield," she said.
Maara picked up the northerner's shield and held it above her head, so that everyone in the hall could see it.
"This shield was taken by Tamras, Tamnet's daughter," the Lady said. "With her bow she killed the man who bore it. It is her first prize won in battle, and she has offered it to me. Let it be hung here in the great hall as a reminder that a warrior's strength and courage are not measured by her size."
My warrior hung the northerner's shield on the wall with the others, all taken in war, a sign to everyone who saw them of the power of Merin's house.
My mother reached for my hand under the table and squeezed it. When I looked at her, I saw that her eyes were still on the Lady. She watched as the Lady took her seat at the high table. Then she turned to me.
"Merin has kept a place for me beside her," she said. "I had better join her for a while."
And she went to take her seat at the Lady's right hand.
Maara soon joined Namet and me, a satisfied smile on her face.
"How in the world did you accomplish that?" Namet asked her.
"I told her Tamnet would be pleased," said Maara.
41. A Choice of Evils
I was dozing by the fire when Namet came for me. She led me through the kitchen and out the back door. A slender moon was rising.
We descended into the place of ritual. A fire had been laid in the center of the chamber, but it had not yet been lit. The only light came from an oil lamp on the stone altar. I peered into the shadows, expecting to see Maara.
"I sent my child to bed," said Namet. "She was worn out, though she wouldn't admit it."
I was a little disappointed that my warrior would have no part in my healing. As much as I trusted Namet, Maara understood as no one else did how I felt about what I'd done.
"Will my mother be here?" I asked.
Namet shook her head. "A warrior's healing is no place for a mother's worry."
Namet knelt and lit the fire. Then she settled herself next to it and patted the place beside her, and I sat down.
"There's a touch of chill in the air tonight," said Namet, holding her hands out to the flame.
I waited for her to begin the ritual. I was a little afraid that she would change, as she had done the night I first set foot upon the warrior's path, but she only smiled and hummed to herself as she encouraged the fire to grow into a cheerful blaze.
"Let's talk a little, shall we?" she said.
"Before you do the healing?"
My anxiety about it made me want to have it over with.
"Oh, I don't think a healing is really necessary. You seem fine to me."
"I do?"
She turned to look at me. "You killed someone. He was an enemy, but he was also a man. I see that you have uneasy feelings about it, and so you should have. I would be worried if you didn't, but it's nothing that requires the power of a healing."
"Why are we here then?"
"To put your mother's mind to rest. And your warrior's too, for that matter. And I thought you might be glad not to have the two of them hovering over you for a little while."
Ordinarily I didn't care to be hovered over, but ever since the battle, I had taken comfort from the presence of the people who loved me. Now only Namet stood between me and the dark.
"Maara told me of your dream," she said.
I remembered how much my dream had disturbed her.
"She didn't believe it was his spirit that came to me," I said. "She said it was a warning from my own heart."
"So it may have been," said Namet, "but if it was his spirit, I fear he meant you no good."
A chill went down my spine.
"If he came to you, it was for the good of those he left behind. He may have come to you to put a human face upon a faceless enemy."
He certainly had never been faceless to me, I thought, as the image of his dying came again into my mind's eye.
"It's difficult to hate someone you know," she said. "Now you know him a little, and through him you also know his people."
"Not as I know my own," I replied, and remembering Maara's fears, I added, "I would never endanger our people for a stranger's sake."
Namet turned to me and smiled. "You have done that already."
She waited for me to understand her. I had no idea what she meant.
"For whom did you stand before the council? For whom did you offer your life as a guarantee? In whom have you put all your trust?"
I didn't know how to answer her. Maara hadn't been a stranger to me from the time I'd been her healer.
"Why were you so sure of her?" Namet asked me.
"My heart was sure of her from the beginning. I don't know why."
"And were you proved wrong?"
"No."
"But she ran away."
"Not to do us harm," I said. "She ran away to save her life."
"And she returned to save yours."
"Yes."
"So you were right to trust her."
"Yes."
"And the man who came to you in your dream? Did you trust him?"
"I trusted my dreaming self to him," I said, "but I was careful of him."
"Then you know the difference."
Before I could question her, she took my hand and closed her eyes.
"Think of him," she said.
As soon as I closed my eyes, I saw his image.
"Now look into the fire."
I did as she told me, and in the flames, I saw his face.
Namet reached into the pocket of her gown and took out a handful of dried leaves. When she crumbled them into the fire, a column of sweet-smelling smoke drifted up and found its way through the hole in the roof. It seemed as if a presence took shape within the smoke, then drifted away, out into the night air.
"Is he gone?" she asked me.
I looked again into the fire. This time I saw only the dancing flame.
"He's gone," I told her.
"Good." She let go of my hand. "Now we can go to bed."
We left the fire to burn itself out. When we had climbed the ladder and stood once again under the night sky, Namet turned to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
"I have yet to thank you," she said. "I hardly know how, except to say that I could not have borne the loss of another child."
She slipped her arm around my shoulders, pulled me close to her, and kissed my brow. Before I could think of anything to say, she let go of me and changed the subject.
"How did you feel when Merin ordered the shield hung in the great hall?" she said. "Did it make you proud?"
"It did, a little," I admitted.
"Why?"
"It pleased my mother."
"And you were proud of having pleased her?"
"Yes."
"What will you feel, do you think, in the days to come when you see that shield hanging
"I suppose I'll get used to it," I said, "and after a while I won't see it anymore."
"You'll see it," she said. "You'll see it every day you spend in Merin's house. Just remember that your heart knew the right thing to do and that you did it."
We had three days of blustery weather. I was grateful, because the rain kept my mother from going home. We spent most of the time sitting by the hearth with Maara and Namet. All through the first day, warriors and their apprentices joined us, eager to hear about our adventures on the frontier, but after everyone's curiosity was satisfied, we were left to ourselves.
On the fourth day, the sun came out. My mother took me aside and said, "Let's go for a walk, shall we? Just the two of us."
It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, too beautiful to waste indoors, and I was glad of the chance to spend some time alone with her.
"Bring your bow," she said. "I'd like to see for myself what your warrior has been teaching you."
I took her down to the place where I used to practice shooting at targets. It had been a long time since I had shot at things that didn't move, and I put arrows through the targets so easily that I amazed myself. I was looking for something more difficult to shoot at when a songbird flew up out of a bush. I followed it with the bow until it was out of sight, but I didn't loose the arrow.
"Could you have hit that tiny bird?" my mother asked me.
"Maara taught me to hunt birds," I said, "but only ones that were big enough to eat. I doubt I would have come anywhere near it."
"All the same, I'm glad you didn't try." She took the bow from me and examined it. "Where did you get this?"
I saw no reason to conceal the truth from her. I told her the story of the men who came across the river, of the death of Eramet, and of finding the body of the man who killed her.
"This bow was with his body," I said. "Maara took it and kept it for me. She believed it was meant to find me. She believed it was a gift."
"A gift," she murmured. "Your warrior has an odd way of looking at things."