Eric Flint - Mother of Demons

"No, Guo. They go there to plead with her. She is the wisest being in the world, they say, the one who knows the secrets of life, and truth, and justice. But she is silent, and will not speak. Not even to her children."

"Her children? She is-?"

"Yes, Guo. The Great Mother of demons."

Guo stared at the mountain. Moments later, when she spoke, her voice was like bronze.

"We will go to the mountain. I would see this Great Mother of demons for myself. If it is true that she knows these things, I will make her speak to me."

The battlemother gripped her mace.

"My people cry out for justice. If there is a secret of justice, I will have it from her. To hold such a thing secret would be evil beyond all evil."

PART IV: The Loom

"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Julius, watching the procession approach.

"Why?" asked Indira.

"Because I think we've become famous. And I think we'd have been better off if we'd just remained a small little bunch of happy-go-lucky, obscure, inconspicuous, fly-on-the-wall, nobody-type demons."

He chewed his lip. "Mark my words. I speak from experience. Somehow or other, we Jews got famous early on in the game. We should have listened to the Speckites."

"The who? "

"The Speckites. The Hebrews' next-door neighbors. You never heard of them?"

Indira frowned suspiciously. "No, I haven't."

"Imagine that! And you-an historian. Just goes to illustrate my point. The Hebrews went for the bright lights of Broadway and the Speckites stayed anonymous. Guess which one of us caught hell for the next few thousand years?"

Indira snorted. Privately, she thought Julius was probably right. But What's done is done.

She couldn't begin to estimate how many gukuy were in the column approaching them. Hundreds, she thought-possibly thousands. The head of the column was just entering the village; the tail of it was still not in sight. All down the valley, three or four abreast, marched the Pilgrims.

On either side of the column, scattered along its length, members of Takashi's platoon acted as an honor guard. The platoon had been stationed in Fagoshau (as the gukuy called their settlement in the big valley) when the huge column of new Pilgrims arrived. After observing the progress of the column up the eastern slope of the Chiton, Takashi had sent a runner to the council requesting orders. The council, after a quick deliberation, had passed on a formal invitation for the newcomers to come and visit.

And they had- all of them.

At that moment, Takashi trotted up. When the young lieutenant drew up before her, Indira saw that he wasn't even breathing hard-despite the fact that he had just finished running up and down the entire column at her request. As was so often the case now, she felt a contradictory mix of emotions. Admiration for the young man's excellent physical condition; uneasiness because she knew it was the result of Joseph's relentless military training.

Still, she wished Joseph were there. The Captain had been gone for days now, leading yet another punitive expedition against a party of slavers which had been spotted the week before on the southern plain near the Chiton.

"Punitive expedition," thought Indira. There's a euphemism for you. "Extermination squad" would be more accurate. Not one of Joseph's expeditions-and there had been many, these past two years-has failed to massacre every slaver they caught.

Indira sighed. And so what? Would you feel better if the owoc were dragged into slavery?

Takashi interrupted her musings.

"I count almost fifteen hundred of them, Indira. But that's just the number in the column. There are more Pilgrims, further back. Scattered groups of stragglers. All told, I'd guess there's around two thousand new Pilgrims on the mountain."

"Holy shit," muttered Julius.

"Have they told you what they want?" asked Indira.

The gaze which Takashi leveled at her was hard as stone.

"Yes. They want to talk to the Mother of Demons. About the secrets."

Indira uttered a silent curse. She had feared as much. Next to her, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Julius' face twist into a grimace.

Where did it get started? she wondered. This myth of the secrets-and the mother who holds them back from her children?

When she first heard of it, from one of the gukuy Pilgrims, she had blamed Joseph. Had gone to him, in fact, and accused him hotly. Joseph had denied it, with equal heat. After a few minutes of argument, Indira had become convinced he was telling the truth.

She had never known Joseph to lie to her (or to anyone else, for that matter). Still, she had been confused and exasperated.

"How did this silly rumor get started, then?" she had demanded. "If you didn't start it?"

She would never forget the look on Joseph's face when he gave his answer. Like an ancient gold mask of Benin.

"It is not a rumor. It is the truth. Everyone knows it-gukuy and ummun alike."

It had not taken long to discover that Joseph was right. At the next council meeting, Indira had proposed that Anna Cheng replace her as the Admiral of the Ocean Sea. Anna had immediately refused, and was supported in her refusal by the entire council except Julius.

"Until you teach us the secrets, Indira," commented Ludmilla, "there is none who can take your place."

"There are no secrets!" she had protested angrily. The young members of the council had simply stared at her in silence. Even Julius had looked away.

The column was now close enough to examine the individual Pilgrims who were leading it. At the very front, in the center, marched a small and elderly gukuy. She was wearing none of the decorative strips of cloth with which southern gukuy generally adorned themselves. For that reason, Indira at first assumed she was from one of the barbarian tribes, who eschewed any clothing except armor. She was puzzled, however. There were a number of barbarian converts to the Way, many of whom had been trickling onto the Chiton for the past several months. But the religion had originated in Ansha and all of its leaders, so far as she knew, were from the civilized southern prevalates.

Then, when the column drew closer, she saw the elaborate carvings on the gukuy's cowl. The pigments which would normally have colored the carvings had been scoured clean. But she recognized the carvings themselves, from descriptions which she had been given by Anshac Pilgrims. They were the insignia of the prevalent clan of the Ansha.

Shocked understanding came to her.

"Is that-?"

Takashi nodded. "Yes, it is. Ushulubang herself."

"Holy shit," muttered Julius.

"Can't you say anything else?" snapped Indira.

Julius eyed her, then looked back at the column. A rueful grin twisted his face.

"I say it again: holy shit."

The audience which followed, in Julius and Indira's hut, was one of the most disconcerting episodes in Indira's life. In Julius' life, as well, he told her later.

Extremely intelligent and well-educated people like Julius and Indira do not, really, believe there is such a thing as a "sage." Until they meet her.

That Ushulubang was extraordinarily intelligent became obvious immediately. The chief opoloshuku-a term which translates loosely as "disciple/teacher"-of the Pilgrims of the Way remained silent until she entered the hut. Then, she thanked Indira and Julius for their hospitality. In perfect English.

Indira was too surprised to respond with the customary phrases. Instead, she blurted out:

"You speak English!"

Ushulubang made the gesture of affirmation, with a subtly humorous twist.

"Certainly. How could I be certain the scribes have captured the true spirit of Goloku's teachings if I could not read the holy tongue myself?"