Dave Smeds - The Sorcery Within

"What's wrong?"

"Rol has a fever."

Elenya shrugged. "Why should you care?"

"We are responsible for this family," Alemar said.

She winced at his tone. For his sake, she lied and said, "I only meant that he's a strong boy. He'll be well in a few days, probably sooner."

"I hope so. Peyri has lost three sons now. She has never seen one live past puberty."

Elenya briefly pictured Rol's wisps of facial hair, grown since their arrival. To her, it indicated the accelerated life of the Zyraii – Alemar's beard had only recently filled in at the thin places. Most of the tribe married within a year after thepulstrall, and had half-grown offspring by the age of the twins. By forty, their teeth were worn away from the sand that inevitably migrated into the food, and their grandchildren far outnumbered the years they had left to live.

"Well, if it's serious, what can you do?"

"I don't know."

He was angry and feeling impotent. She herself had known the emotion all too often these past months.

"Alemar, how long are we going to stay here?"

He slowly ate a spoonful of millet. She hadn't asked that question since shortly after they had arrived in the Ahloorm Basin.

"Nothing's changed," he said. "We've nothing to gain by leaving except a long run or death."

"Do you care?"

He lifted one of the unlit lamps to fill it with oil, its chains tinkling as he lowered it. Its reservoir wasn't particularly empty. "How do you mean?"

"You get enough to eat. You keep your mind occupied. And those women wait on you as if that's all they were ever meant to do. They'd probably lick you clean if you asked them. I think you're getting to like it here, just the way it is."

He replaced the lamp. His hands inevitably came away oily. He scrubbed them in the cleansing sand. "I wish you'd be kinder to them."

"Why?"

"They're victims, too. They didn't choose us."

"They help keep us prisoner," she argued.

"They've done us no harm."

"Alemar! We came to this country with a purpose!"

"We came here in search of a myth," he murmured.

She sank down to her haunches. Soon she picked up her bowl and jabbed half-heartedly at her food. Alemar remained in the corner by the cleansing sand, doing something out of Elenya's sight. When he returned to his place, he handed her a flower.

She blinked. "What's this?"

"For your hair. I picked it today, when we were in the desert with Gerat. They only bloom one or two weeks a year."

Tears. "Thank you," she said hoarsely.

He arranged the petals over one of her ears. "I know it's been harder here for you than for me. The legend may be true. Maybe not. But we're here now, and have to live as best we can."

"I'm so tired," she said.

They said nothing for a while. The noises of the camp quieted. Alemar blew out all the lamps but one. The rest of the household went to sleep. Soon they heard the distinctive boom of sand shifting out in the dunes, a sound that had shocked them their first nights in Zyraii.

"What is that called?" Alemar whispered.

"Ohoom,"Elenya said. They managed wan smiles. They scooted nearer and nestled against each other, two tiny tidepools in the midst of a beach with no ocean.

The Zyraii who spoke seemed to loom above the gathering of boys, voice frighteningly deep. He was a figure meant to be obeyed. Alemar and Elenya recognized the title; it meant man-maker.

"You will do as I say in all things," Wilan announced. "When I tell you to speak, you will speak. When I tell you to be quiet, you will be silent. I have the power to send you back to your mothers; thepulstrall can wait for you for another year. Do you understand?"

"Yes," some of the boys whispered.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes!"they replied.

"Good," Wilan stated crisply. He paced the line of boys, all of them in a neat line facing the oasis of Shom, several hundred yards distant. To either side, three other priests waited, imposing in their light blue robes, veils, and cowls, though not as intimidating as Wilan. Alemar and Elenya had been required to dispense with their veils, and they felt exposed in front of Wilan's authority. The men were all strangers.

"You have come here as children. You will leave as men. You will walk the path that your fathers walked, endure what they endured. You have been trained in the things a man must know. Now we will see if you have taken the lessons to heart. Can you hunt? Can you recite the laws? Do you understand the arts of war? Do you know your duty?"

The twins had never seen an Ah-no-ken who so resembled a warrior. For a moment, Wilan met each of their glances. They both had to look away.

"If you are slow-minded, I will find that out. If you are frightened, I will know. If you cheat, lie, whine, or seek to curry favor, I will expose you. You are not safe behind your mother's purdah. Every deficiency, every scrap of false pride, the leadenness of your feet, the awkwardness of your tongues, and the pallor of your young buttocks will be there for all to see. I am here to find your weaknesses.

"Becoming a man may not be all you think. You see it as your chance to ride with the warriors, take women to bed, win honor intorovet. But being a man is to play the Bu. If you shame yourself, your next life you may be born a goat. If you fail to provide for your family, you may be born to a mother with sour milk. God is watching, and judging. So, too, you must be able to judge yourself. This is the primary lesson of thepulstrall: Know yourself. Do not expect to leave here with the illusions you arrived with. Soon you will crave them back."

Wilan paused, his attitude becoming almost wistful. "You cannot be a boy again. This is perhaps the hardest lesson. There are no second chances."

By the end of his speech, Wilan had arrived at a pile of equipment. In the center stood a stack of small tents, scarcely more than windbreaks, with accompanying guy ropes and stakes, one for each boy. Near them were goat-hide flasks, uniform in size, filled with water. A few other accessories, such as small butchering knives, flint and steel, and coils of thin rope, had already been picked up by the three assistant Ah-no-ken, who proceeded to distribute them to the group. There were no real weapons, nor any food.

"God placed us on Tanagaran with only our hands and our wits," Wilan continued. "It is good to remember that, should all our material gains be lost, we still will have God's gifts." He nudged the tents. "Unlike our ancestors, you will have a few tokens of civilization. For this is the gift of your fathers, and should you be struck with poverty, at least you will have your heritage. Take these, in honor of him who begat you."

After each boy had been given his gear, he went to the stacks and took the tent off the top and whichever flask was nearest. No choices were allowed. Wilan waited until they had formed their line again.

"The first thing you must learn is that, to be a man, there are times to put family and commerce and amusement aside. A time when there is only you and the world. No one can help you, even if they stand at your side. Go." Wilan pointed to every direction. In every direction was open desert. "There is your fate. Go out to meet it. For the next three days, you will roam the land. Keep solitude. If you encounter one another by chance, take opposite paths. Survive, and return before dusk on the final day. You will have no company. You must see for yourselves that there is no one as lonely as a man."

The four adults abruptly turned and headed back toward the oasis. No opportunity for questions or protests was offered. The boys looked at one another but were afraid to speak. Finally Elenya kissed her brother, balanced her tent pack more comfortably on her shoulders, and set out for the west. Alemar shrugged and started eastward.