Lamarchos Read online

  “And?”

  “Will it please you to heal her, gikena Lahela?” She held out a hand, a deep green stone cupped in her palm. “The one of whom I speak bade me give you this.”

  Aleytys took the poaku from her. Turning it over and over she marvelled at the sheer sensuous pleasure she derived from running her fingers over the pseudo-soft silken surface of the heavy, tough green stone. It was carved in low relief into a severely spare nearly abstract representation of two horses’ heads, necks merging just above the shoulders, manes flying in a suggested breeze, a creation of line and hollow to enchant the eyes as thoroughly as the feel of the surface bewitched the fingertips. Aleytys continued to run her fingers over the stone as she gazed thoughtfully toward the stark towers of the Karkiskya quarter, wanting the stone until her heart ached with the pain of her desire, unwilling to let it out of her caressing fingers.

  Olelo came scampering down the steps and sat himself next to her legs, his whole weight resting on her, a small soft spot of warmth, his head tipped back so that brilliant eyes, so black they looked all pupil, fixed on her face with a hint of amused wariness.

  Reluctantly Aleytys gave the poaku back to the girl. “No need for this,” she said slowly. “The poaku is one with your kin. No need to sacrifice so much for one small moment of my time. I’ll come with you now.” She glanced over her shoulder but relaxed when she saw no sign of Maissa. “When I have done, then is the time for gifting.”

  Glancing repeatedly over her shoulder to see if Aleytys was actually following, Puki darted around her father’s caravan and stopped beside a somber black and green wagon parked with its front wheels chocked at the very edge of the stream. As soon as Aleytys reached her, Puki smiled nervously and knocked on the wall beside the heavy black curtains. “Makua Hekili, may we come? It is keikeia Pukipala and Lahela gikena.”

  “Be welcome.” The voice coming from behind the curtains was forceful despite the evident physical weakness.

  Puki pulled the curtains apart, holding them aside for Aleytys, then followed her inside. The woman lay on the leftside bunk, her head propped up on a pillow, her skeletal body stretched out under a light quilt that was appliqued with a fox pattern which echoed the hunting foxes on her face and arms. She smiled at them, dark eyes huge and lively in her drawn face. “And doubly welcome, gikena.” Her bony hands moved slightly on the quilt. With a grave formality she said, “It has been years since a gikena has come to us.”

  Aleytys smiled at her, responding intensely to the vital personality of the sick woman. “Si’a Hekili, you will permit me to touch your person?”

  Hekili chuckled. “Lahela gikena, my body may be feeble but not my mind. Do what you will with me.”

  Aleytys knelt beside her. “Relax as much as you can. This may hurt.” She laid her hands on the bulging knot swelling out from the center of the emaciated body. Breathing slowly she reached out for the black river of power that raced in vast and irresistible currents around the stars of her birth heaven swamping planets that bobbed like wood chips on the glassy surface. The waters roared through her hands cleansing the body that writhed and screamed under her fingers.

  Puki watched fascinated and repelled. The air around the gikena shook with the power in the strange woman. Hekili’s groans disturbed her until she closed her hands into fists, bearing down so that her fingernails cut moon arcs in her palms. The gikena’s face was strained, eyes, blue-shadowed patches on a face pulled in tension so, that muscles stood out like ropes. Puki heard startled exclamations outside and heavy footsteps coming fast toward the caravan. She ran her tongue over her lips, glanced at the two linked women, fidgeted from foot to foot, then thrust herself through the black curtains in time to face her father.

  “Puki?” His eyebrows arched up, giving his round face a startled clown’s look. “What’s going on in there?”

  “Gikena heals, father.”

  A long shuddering groan floated past Puki’s shoulder.

  “Healing? Move out of the way.”

  She thrust her hands at him, palm out, fingers trembling. “Makuakane Peleku, give the honored one time to complete the healing.”

  The groan came again, softer and weaker. Peleku shoved his daughter aside and slapped the curtains back. Inside, he clutched at Aleytys’ shoulder then grunted and wrenched his hands away as the power that twisted the air around her seared along his arms.

  Aleytys let the water image collapse. Weary almost to exhaustion, she rested her head a moment on the quilt, her hands sliding limply down to hang by her side. After a minute she blinked her eyes open and forced herself back on her feet. Ignoring the intruders she bent over Hekili, smiling into the huge weary eyes. Touching the older woman’s cheek with a gentle exploring finger, she murmured, “How are you?”

  “No more pain.” The words were a strengthless sigh but the lined face was filled with a new peace. “I think I’ll sleep.”

  Aleytys patted her cheek then turned to face Peleku. “Si’a Hekili will live.” She nodded her head at the place where the quilt lay over the center of the older woman’s body. “The growth is absorbed and won’t trouble her any more.”

  He stared down at Hekili, cousin and sister-in-law. Her face was waxy pale, her mouth hung slightly open as she drew in the deep steady breaths of profound sleep. With a quick neat movement that sat oddly on his bulky body, he caught hold of her wrist and laid his fingers on her pulse. The slow strong beat brought the sweat of relief popping out over his body. Then he let a hand float gently down over the wrinkled quilt. “It is gone.”

  Aleytys ran her hands nervously through her hair, her strength beginning to flow back. “Yes. Of course.” As he backed away, licking at trembling lips, her mouth twitched into a gently amused smile. “Hekili will need rest and nourishing food. This has been a great strain on her.”

  Breathing raggedly, Peleku rubbed his hands together, muttering, “Pardon, gikena, pardon my clumsy doubts.”

  She touched his arm, feeling him flinch involuntarily at her touch. He reddened with embarrassment. Aleytys turned her head. “Puki.”

  “Si’a gikena?”

  “Lend me your shoulder back to my camp.” She stretched and sighed. “I’m a bit tired.”

  Aleytys settled onto the pillows with a sigh of relief. Behind her in the caravan she heard Stavver stirring, the floor creaking under his shifting weight as he moved about. Kale sat half-obscured under the trees, pulling a harness through his hands looking for places that needed repair. He nodded when he saw her looking at him. Maissa sat on the bottom step, dark eyes glittering. Aleytys winced away from the emotional mix she projected, glanced around for Loahn.

  Puki came back. “Is there anything I can do for you, si’a gikena?”

  Aleytys smiled at her. “Yes, indeed. There is. Make me some tea, will you? I’d like that.”

  Eyes sparking with her eagerness to be of service, Puki trotted away toward her camp’s morning fire.

  “So. Lovely thing, compassion. And what do we get for this little bit of gratuitous good-heartedness?” Maissa swung onto her feet. “A cup of tea. A cup of lousy tea.”

  Aleytys shrugged. “How do you price friendship?” She smoothed her hands over her thighs, running her thumbs across the pleats in the batik cloth. “What’s a woman’s life worth? A cup of tea? Why not. If something’s beyond price, any price is right.”

  “Fine philosophy. Lady goody-good. Phah!”

  Aleytys stretched then chuckled, suddenly too content to bother with Maissa. She spread her hands out, the laughter diminishing to a bubble in her blood. “When you think of why we’re here, isn’t it silly to bother about a few coppers?” She flicked a hand at the growing numbers of Lamarchans circling at a respectful distance. “If you’re worried about collecting my fees, go line them up and guide them gently to the magic circle. Cross my palm with silver and gold. A dark stranger will come into your life. Beware the man with the cast in his eye. Be generous, fine lady, and all your dreams will come
true.” Laughter kept bubbling up. “Bring on the marks, Leyilli, sweet gentle Leyilli.”

  Maissa’s eyes flashed as her face paled, then she smiled and the laughter died in Aleytys. The small dark woman firmed her full lips, stepped past Aleytys and bowed to the east, north, south, west. “Farers in Karkys,” she called, her hoarse voice breaking occasionally. “Farers in Karkys,” she repeated. “Gikena heals. Gikena reads the signs of what will be. Touch her with silver. Touch her with gold. Who will come? Who will be first?”

  The rest of the morning passed swiftly as Aleytys healed small difficulties, a wart here, defective eyes there, read happiness and sorrow in a dozen different palms. At noon Puki came hesitantly over to her.

  Aleytys waved away the anxious-eyed woman standing before her. “Come back another time,” she said smiling. “No matter what you think of my skills, I do not live on air. The sun’s at zenith and my stomach cries out.” The woman’s face wrinkled into an unhappy frown, but she moved reluctantly away. Aleytys reached out for Puki, letting the girl help her up as her cramped legs protested. “You wanted something?”

  The girl ducked her head shyly. “My father said you’ve been so busy this morning you must be tired and no time to fix food and why should you have to tire yourself more, so will you join our fire for nooning?” She enclosed the whole camp with a graceful gesture of a friendly hand. “All of you.”

  A quick smile curling her lips, Aleytys glanced at Maissa. “Perhaps your father is more generous than he knows. I could eat a horse and a half. But we accept with gratitude.” She turned to the woman who stood like a cold shadow behind her. “Leyilli, take care of the leathers, will you?” She flicked a careless hand at the pile of coins. “That too. Then join us with the others, please?”

  Maissa nodded with carefully measured respect, eyes modestly lowered. “As you say, gikena Lahela,” she murmured.

  A while later Peleku handed his eating dish to Puki so she could ladle more of the spicy stew into it. To Aleytys he said, “There is more meat, si’a gikena. Don’t be shy about filling your bellies.”

  “None for me.” She raised her eyebrows in interrogation. “Nor for my people, thank you.”

  Peleku looked ponderously around the circle calmly contented as his eyes passed over the faces of his family. Then he smiled. “Si’a gikena, you’ve been introduced to my daughter, but you have yet to meet the reason we’re in Karkys this particular year.”

  The boy across the fire jumped up, grinning broadly. He was a skinny imp with lively dancing eyes, not too impressed by the mystique of the gikena. Not that interested in her either, a mere woman who was fathoms beneath any special attention by a soon-to-be-blooded male. “He gets his Karkiskya blade tomorrow and his blooding when we get back home.” Hakea grinned even wider so that his face was all mouth, nose a mere bump, eyes disappearing into black-fringed slits. At a nod from his father he ran off, loping around the end of the caravan like a spirited colt suddenly on the loose.

  “Si’a gikena.”

  “Si’a Peleku?”

  “If I might speak to you a moment?”

  Aleytys nodded. Frowning, annoyed, Maissa got to her feet and followed the others back to their camp. Peleku glared at his own people. Hastily the women collected the dishes and scuttled away.

  Peleku sat back, hands flat on his knees, fingers tapping slowly on the thick muscles. “I wish to speak to you about the boy Loahn.”

  “Ah.” Aleytys smiled. “An interesting young man.”

  “As you have seen, my daughter finds in herself a growing tendency to seek his company. His head was shaved recently.”

  “Yes. He was declared outcast. The Kauna of Wahi-Po named him pariah.”

  “Pariah.” He frowned heavily. “I will not tolerate such a connection. Pariah!”

  “Not by his fault. He was falsely accused. The Lakoe-heai have taken an interest in him. Why, I don’t know. They sent me to him. Before coming here I stopped by Wahi-Po. The error has been corrected, the Kauna pays reparation, and Loahn is restored to honor among his people.”

  “Ah.”

  “As to his background … mmm … his father was Arahn of Wahi-Po. At his death, with the slight hiatus of his time as outcast, Loahn became a man of wealth and substance, owning a horse run with, I understand, quite a good reputation for its stock.”

  Peleku nodded briskly. “I’ve bought horses from Arahn. A good holding.” Pursing his lips, he contemplated his knees. “Why was he declared outcast?”

  Aleytys drew up her knees and rested her chin on them, staring into the red heart of the fire. “A jealous woman is a bottomless well. There is no satisfying her.”

  Peleku ran the tip of his tongue over his upper teeth. “So?”

  “Arahn’s first wife died leaving one son. He married again.”

  “And his second wife had sons.” He grunted. “She couldn’t get rid of firstwife’s ghost either I suppose.”

  Aleytys smiled into the shrewd twinkling eyes. “Right. When Arahn died, she accused Loahn of raping her.”

  “And he didn’t.”

  “No. She drugged him. The Kauna listened to her. She had an aunt among them. Riyda confessed her lie when I brought the boy back to his people. The Kauna thus had to reinstate him in the community and pay him reparation.”

  “Ah.” Curiosity glinted in his eyes. “Why does he serve you instead of managing his holding?” His eyes moved over her as his face took on a grim look. “If you don’t mind my asking, does he serve your bed?”

  “No.” She was startled. “Why?”

  Peleku sighed. “I’m glad to hear that, si’a Lahela. Lakoe-heai know I’m fond of Puki, but beside you she’s like a day-lily on the day before. I wouldn’t want her playing second to any woman.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Serving me earns him esteem at home. He’s far from stupid, Peleku. Also …” She chuckled. “You know what a young man is. He’s getting the itch out of his soul wandering around with me.”

  “Mmmmph.” Peleku pushed up onto his feet. “Then he is free of my camp. If he wishes to speak to me, I will hear him.” He chuckled. “Ah, to be young again.…”

  Jumping up with a laugh, Aleytys tapped his arm with dancing fingers. “Si’a Peleku, you’ll be young when your ashes float from the pyre.”

  He shook his head, a rueful grimace pulling his heavy features together. “The flesh. Ah, the flesh, si’a Lahela. The day comes when the body pants along far behind the spirit.” He stood up. “Will you wait here a minute, please?” He swung into the caravan and seconds later came out again, a bag made of green-dyed suede dangling from his hand.

  “Hoakne Hekili ate today. She doesn’t hurt any more. There’s no real way we can pay for your gift, so I don’t try, but we of clan Fox will be honored if you accept this poaku.”

  “I am the one honored.” She took the bag. Nodding gravely she left without another word, respecting his dignity by giving him her most formal courtesy.

  The afternoon crept slowly past as the endless line of the curious came to her for a reading or healing. She promised more exciting futures, removed more warts and moles, straightened a crooked nose that had secretly tormented a girl, cured rickets in a badly fed baby, grew enamel over cavities, straightened crooked bones, did a hundred different minor magics that sent her clients off in a haze of joyful awe.

  After supper, Maissa stood up with a sudden jerking motion that focused all eyes on her. “We talk.” She frowned at Loahn. “Not you. The four of us will be there.” She nodded at her caravan. “You stand watch out here. Ears shut and eyes open.”

  Loahn’s nostrils twitched. He turned deliberately to Aleytys. “Is that your wish, gikena Lahela?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Aleytys snapped. “You know who gives orders here. Do it.”

  He bowed with exaggerated respect. “As you say, si’a gikena.”

  Aleytys threw up her hands.

  In the caravan Maissa stood at the front, eyes on the others. Ale
ytys sat on the bunk at the left, Kale on the right. Stavver leaned a hip on the bunk behind Aleytys, arms folded across his narrow chest. He carefully avoided touching Aleytys and she knew she was still unforgiven. She felt unhappy amusement as she looked around at the four separate islands of humanity. “We band of brothers,” she muttered.

  “What?” Maissa pounced on the murmur. “If you’ve something to say, let us hear it.”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.” She folded her hands, resting them on her thighs.

  “Stavver.” Maissa’s fingernails clicked like hail on the hard wood. “You got all you need? When do you hit?”

  He lounged against the back wall, thumbs now thrust behind the worn leather belt. Under his weight the back wall creaked and creaked again as he shifted several times. “The wards and locks are no problem. These Karkiskya depend too much on their orbiting sensor probes. I can walk through their security down here like a ghost. No problem there. But.”

  “But?”

  “I have to get inside, take a look around.” He shrugged and the wood creaked again. “I think I know where they keep the stones, Kale’s report was clear enough and fit with the readings, but putting an eye on them would be better.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?”

  Kale lifted his head. “No problem.” Stavver and Maissa both turned on him at once, surprise loosening the muscles of their faces so that mouths dropped slightly open, eyes rounded. Aleytys leaned back watching with secret appreciation while the man Maissa treated with contempt both as man and groundling took control of the talk.

  “A poaku will get you in.” He spread out his hands. “How do you think they do their trading. They damn well don’t come out here. Just walk up to the gate and wave a stone under their cowls and you’re escorted inside. All the way to the buying room. Right through the showroom where they keep their store of stones. And …” He transferred his grin to Aleytys. “You’ve got a stone right to hand.”