When I told them what had happened at the palace, they prepared for me a sleeping place in the far corner of the cave and and left me in peace to think.
But before he retired for the night, the Guardian of the Cave came to me. He pulled an apple from his robe and set it on the stone by my side.
“What do you see?” he asked gently.
“A green apple.”
He gave the apple a quarter turn.
“A red apple,” I said. That side must have been toward the sun.
Another quarter turn.
I stared at the dark opening of a worm hole in the middle of a rotten brown spot. “A wormy apple.”
He offered a kind smile, then walked away.
I thought long and hard on what he meant to teach me. To see better, I thought, to see more thoroughly.
To see every side
. Of what? My destiny? The war? Batumar?
“Eyes are the organs of distraction,” my mother used to tell me. “They notice the smallest things, crowd everything full of useless detail, and steal attention from where the focus should be.” Many times she had bidden me to see with my heart.
I lay down. The uneven rock bed dug into my side even through the furs, so I moved around to find a more comfortable spot. Too fast I had grown used to my feather bed at the palace and the comforts of Pleasure Hall.
Although neither my hair nor my clothes needed Leena’s ministrations, I missed her and hoped she was not punished for my escape. But as I lay on my pile of furs in the corner of the cave, I refused to miss Batumar. Still, I could not stop my thoughts from going to him as I looked out into the darkness and watched the stars through the mouth of the cave. I half expected to see him appear there, having come after me.
* * *
I spent the next three days and nights with the Guardians, most of it in the Sacred Cave of the Scrolls. I also spent some time at my mother’s grave, where I felt closest to her spirit. On the fourth day, after the Guardians of the Gate and the Cave had left for the Forgotten City in the morning, I rolled out once again the first scroll, still the only one to open.
I was determined to make more sense of the prophecy, to unlock some secret meaning. The enemy neared with every passing day. The Guardian of the Scrolls watched from the corner of his eye but looked away when, after a while, I once again rolled up the scroll and set it aside, frustrated to the brink of tears.
“I went to visit the Seer last night,” he said.
Since he brought up the topic, I did not think it would be terribly impolite to inquire further. “What did you wish her to see for you?”
“I wanted to know how your Leena fares, but—” He held up his hands as if to stop my hopes from springing too high. “Selaila was on another search.”
That seemed to be her way. Her body forever in her hut, her spirit unreachable. Twice the Guardians had thought to introduce her to me, but we were sent away by her mother each time with prostrate apologies. So instead, they had shown me the Forgotten City, its curious buildings and solemn people, even the empty Forum, the sight of which greatly saddened my heart.
“Thank you for trying.” I smiled my gratitude.
“You have been worried,” he said gruffly and turned away.
I had spoken of Leena and Batumar a lot in the past few days, I supposed. We passed the evenings trading tales.The Guardians told me about the Seela and their past, and I talked about Karamur. They had a great curiocity for the fortress city, a place that stood so close to them yet remained mostly unknown to their people.
Still, that the Guardian of the Scrolls would go as far as seeking the Seer surprised me. Of the three Guardians, he had shown the least interest in my tales, although I had caught his gaze on me time and time again as I had relayed the happenings of the palace.
Maybe he was softening toward the Kadar. Or perhaps he was softening toward me. He had finally, the day before, allowed me to prepare for him a tea of herbs and was now moving around more easily. His complaints had decreased by half, for which the other Guardians had privately thanked me.
“Grandfather,” I addressed him with utmost respect, then pointed to a short passage on the scroll, bringing up once again the thought that had been nagging in the back of my mind. “
…well-favored by the spirits, for she will have all three spirits of the people of Dahru and even the spirit of our forgotten people.
” I looked at him. “How could that be me?”
“You have the spirit of the Shahala from your mother,” he said. “And the Kadar from your father.”
“But the others? How could I have the spirit of the Seela? And how could I have the spirit of the First People when they have been gone for centuries?”
“The Seela are said to have in them some of the First People’s blood and with it their spirit, from whence come our gifts.”
So between the two of us, we had all four spirits. But that was not what the prophecy called for. I mentioned this to the Guardian, but he shrugged, looking not the least concerned.
“Then how about—” I read on, “
She will know all people, for she will have been all people
.”
“You have been the child of a powerful mother, and then an orphan. You have been a slave. And now you are the sole concubine of the most powerful warlord of the land,” he said. “Most of us start out our lives and the path before us never changes. At birth, I was a Guardian, and I will die a Guardian. But you have walked the path of many.”
“But I have not been
all
people. I have not been a merchant, I have not been a mother, I have not been a warrior—”
“You have been enough. And the next passage says:
…they will raise their eyes to her with hope so that as she had cast out their pain, so she might cast out the darkness also
. You cannot deny that is true. You are a healer and have cast out the pain of many.” He fell silent then, and we sat like that for some time, each absorbed in our own thoughts.
“You can read the scroll now,” he said after a while.
I nodded. He had read the prophecy for me until I knew the words by heart and began to grow familiar with the strange letters that created them. I already knew the language, so I only had to connect letters with the sounds.
“Then you no longer need me.” His voice sounded tired and listless again as it had when I first met him. “My work is finished.”
“But I do need you and so does everyone else.”
“I am but a useless old man. A coward at that—” His face darkened. “For I fear what is to come and look only for a way to avoid having to live through it.”
I thought for a moment. “The Shahala have a saying: There is no greater courage than to accept one’s destiny.”
He looked up at that.
“You dedicated your whole life to guarding the scrolls, and when I came, you taught me. You sacrificed much, and there is honor in it. I question my fate with each breath of the day. You completed yours.”
“I did what I had to.”
“And gave up much along the way for your people and strangers you will never know.”
“I would have liked to have had a family.” He admitted the first personal detail since I had known him.
“You have a son.”
He remained silent for some time, and when he spoke, the words fell heavy from his lips. “At the time deemed right by the Seer, a young woman was selected from the maidens of the city. She walked up to this cave and conceived our son, then walked back down, and I never talked to her again. When my son was the right age, he came to me for training. A few days before you appeared out of the mist, he ascended the mountain to purify his mind and body and to wait for my death so he can descend and take over his duty.”
“And the other Guardians?”
“The son of the Guardian of the Gate is on a journey through the Gates to learn them better. The son of the Guardian of the Cave…” Disapproval filled his eyes. “A restless one, that one, and undisciplined. He decided to go on a quest, searching for other sacred caves in the mountains.”
“There are other sacred caves?”
“So the legends say. One holds the great sword of Bergan. Another hides a thousand virgins frozen in sleep by a sorceress of old. And there might be more that our story tellers forgot about over the centuries.”
I sat up straighter. “Could not the great sword of Bergan help Batumar win the war better than I?”
“The sword is prophesized to unite the world after a thousand years.”
“A thousand years from now?” That much war I could scarcely comprehend.
“A thousand years from when the prophecy was made.” He hung his head, his lips in a grim line. “Unfortunately, no two Guardians have ever been able to agree on that date. But we do not think the time is near.”
All fairy tales, I thought. Especially the thousand virgins. If a cave such as that existed, the Kadar warlords would have been looking for it day and night to claim the virgins for their Maiden Halls.
The Guardian said, “In any case, those other prophesies have not been entrusted to the three of us. Our duty was to await you.” The lines on his forehead eased somewhat. “Which we did with honor. And should we pass before you fulfill your fate, our sons stand ready to assist you.”
My throat tightened at his words. For legends and vague prophecies, generations of young men had been forced to sacrifice their lives. “The Shahala value families above all. No office asks its holder to forgo that. Why is it so among your people?”
“The first Guardians believed the Great War of the prophecies would come soon and their services would be urgently needed. They thought the prophecy would be fulfilled in their own lifetimes and feared a family would distract them from their duties. They forswore it for this reason. The example of the first Guardians was followed until it had become unbreakable law among my people.”
I thought of those generations of Guardians, their entire lives spent waiting for me to walk out of the mist. I could scarcely comprehend such devotion.
“Sometimes our worst bonds are of our own making,” he said, his tone glum.
“But it is not too late. You can still find your son’s mother.”
He shook his head. “Too late for me.” But then he added, “Maybe not so for my son.”
Before I could respond, I caught sight of the Guardian of the Cave and the Guardian of the Gate hurrying up the path. “Kadar warriors are all over the mountain,” the Guardian of the Gate said once they were close enough. “Shall we show ourselves? With the Khergi hordes so close to our island, is our time here?”
The Guardian of the Scrolls shook his head. “I do not want warriors in our city. First, let us speak to their High Lord. We have been isolated too long. Go now, Tera, and tell Batumar we are coming.”
I nodded, knowing that the High Lord’s anger would be fierce when I faced him. But if the spirits
had
given me a role in saving our people. I
would
do what was required of me. “When should he expect you?”
“For the evening meal,” said the Guardian of the Gate, patting his belly in an absent gesture.
I rolled up the scroll carefully and left it in their keeping, then said farewell to the Guardians and went to face Batumar, hoping to find mercy in his sight.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
(The Sacred Gate)
No sooner did I walk out of the valley than I saw Lord Gilrem, his men fanned out behind him in the woods. They looked as if they had been searching the past four full days, tired and rumpled from sleeping on the ground.
“Lord Gilrem,” I said calmly as if I had gone only for a stroll.
“Lady Tera.” He rushed to my side, then stared at my short hair. He held up his hand to signal his men to stay back. “How do you fare?”
“Fine well. And you, my lord?”
“My son grows and strengthens.”
“And his mother?”
He nodded, then asked in a voice low enough so none but I would hear. “Will you return with me to the palace?”
I searched his face to make sure I did not misunderstand him, but his intent was clear. Now that I had accepted my destiny and the fact that I could never return to the life I had once known, the choice was finally offered to me.
The spirits were not without a sense of humor after all.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I shall return to Karamur with you, Lord Gilrem.”
He smiled his relief, then sent some of his men to the other search parties to call them off. “We have been looking for you since your absence was discovered.”
“I am sorry to have caused so much trouble.” Sorry for the warriors who were about to go to battle and were deprived even of these few days to spend with their families. “I expect the High Lord is angry.” I winced at the thought of an enraged Batumar.
“I shall remain by your side, if you wish, my lady.”
An offer of protection. A long path we had traveled since we had first met. I had learned much in that time. It should have surprised me not that the High Lord’s young brother had changed as well.
“I thank you, my lord, but I must face the High Lord alone in this matter.”
Lord Gilrem would not let me climb the cliff, so we returned to Karamur the long way, his men falling into place behind us. The ones who had caught me on the creek bank were not among his guard now. I did not know whether Lord Gilrem had remembered and ordered it so or if by coincidence. I trusted his offer of protection, and I did not feel afraid in their midst.
He asked me where I had gone but did not insist on an answer when I remained silent. I asked him about the war effort.
The city walls now stood finished, he said, and the city gate fully fortified, but all other work had been set aside as Batumar had sent every available man to search for me.
I asked Gilrem about Leena. He assured me that no servants had been punished for my escape, but the Palace Guard had been disciplined as they had been found derelict in their duty.
The sun had passed its zenith by the time we reached the palace. Batumar waited for us in his Great Hall, his jaw clenched as he looked me over. His clothes were rumpled as if he had just returned from training with his men. An icy expression sat upon his face, while his dark eyes swirled with fire.