Fire & Water
Ashe: Book Two
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TBCChapter Six
The capacity of Ashe’s nightmare was as wide as the horizon. She was standing in a dark valley, looking upwards, tears drying on her face. She looked again into the layered face with its slitted eyes and felt sick. The sun was long-since gone. The sky was dull with night. There were no stars visible, only the moon, a few days away from full. The moon looked grey and honeycombed. The moon looked as gaunt and hollow as a rotting tooth.
Ashe could not decide within herself what title she should give to the entity that faced her. To name it might possibly reduce – if only slightly – the threat it so clearly represented. It was not human by any stretch of the imagination, and yet nor was it wholly alien. On a simple and unaffected level it seemed to Ashe that if all that was wrong or wicked in the world had crawled to this one site, merged, and become… a monster. And maybe this monster ate goodness and light, or maybe it just ate up hope. Ashe could feel her own strength faltering as she walked toward the thing.
The entity turned its gaze upon Ashe. Its eyes showed no more emotion than they had when she had first looked into them. The ruby glow remained, but the eyes were empty of thought or clarity or generosity. There was nothing kind there, just an endless appetite that did not understand the concept of hunger, nor that it might eat for ever and remain unsatisfied. Ashe put up a hand to her face and understood that she was crying for a reason: her grief was for the endless nullity of the thing before her, and for all that it would destroy.
The creature shifted and whole forests went down. Ashe saw them go but did not hear the sound they made. The dust and earth that was shocked up into the air did not touch her. The creature put down a limb – it might as well be called a hand – and another valley had been made. The second limb and a mountain simply ceased to be. The creature put down a hand to scoop up water and left behind it a desert.
The tears that Ashe cried, unknowingly and without pause, made their way into the vast crater that the creature had trodden down and then a salt lake shivered beneath the negative light of a dead star.
She woke. Ashe woke and waking was the finest thing she had ever known. The cold air that blew snowflakes across the ground was something to be embraced; the sudden crumbling sensation of pins and needles – Fallon had just raised her head – was like sunlight after rain. Fallon put out a hand to Ashe’s face and said, surprised, stupid: “You’re crying.”
Yes, she was, and there was as little use for these tears as there had been in her dream. Ashe stumbled to her feet, sore and stiff and uncoordinated, but very very happy. The mountain might still fall and that thing create a new world in its chosen form, but it had not happened yet. Ashe did not think it had happened yet. Oh, Gods, she thought, fervently and passionately: let there still be time to prevent it from happening. She stood there in the snow, her mind full of decisions and her heart crammed with a sudden love for the world that she had not known she possessed. Then she stepped forward, slid on the ice, and ended up face-up in the snow. Very slowly and patiently she dug herself back out. She still had a little dignity left. But Fallon had seen the whole thing and clapped a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing.
Ashe shook herself clear of the snow and gave Fallon a resigned and mild smile. “Go ahead,” she said. “Laugh. But make the most of it. I don’t plan on giving any encores.”
She straightened up and her feet touched again the layer of ice beneath the snow and there was again that split-second sensation of flying before she was falling, going down twice as hard, only just managing not to bite her tongue. This time she stayed where she was, and simply moved her arms and legs to leave an impression of a winged creature in the snow. Fallon eventually stopped laughing. Ashe said, “That’s it. I’m going to spend the rest of my life down here.”
*******
I could almost fancy her. Gods, I must have lost it. I suppose it’s the usual thing; you see someone every day, you talk to them, or moan to them, and then maybe you arm-wrestle for an hour or so and then one day you glance up, sweating a little, and loosening up a bit, and you see them differently. I keep saying to myself, mantra-style, this is the woman who tried to kill Ashe; this is the woman who’d want Betany dead… But she never fought hand-to-hand with Betany, only Ashe. And she believed in what she was fighting for, just like me. Did I say that she and Ashe were a kind of parallel? Well, Ashe I nearly always want to beat up – even if just a little – but Alexis I want to… I want to do other things to Alexis.
There’s a voice in my head that keeps on talking and I can’t shut it up. It says Sam, over and over again. And I think yes: I loved Sam, and I wanted Sam, and I never got to have her. Maybe it’s just that neat and simple: maybe I’m just turning what I felt for Sam toward Alexis. No. I loved Sam. I never expected to love anybody, but I really fell for Sam. Alexis? Alexis is more the kind of person I deserve. Alexis is more like me. I don’t honestly know if that’s something to be proud of or ashamed. But I want her. I really do. And there’s no way in the world I’m ever going to let slip that bit information.
Some people might say that I grew up in Betany’s shadow, but it never felt to me like that. There was always a kind of equality between us. We grew up side by side and complete in our own ways. I was a karg and she was not. I don’t know if she envied me, or envies me, because she’s never let on. Sometimes I look at her and I think; no matter how strong she may be, or how smart, or how self-contained, she can never be other than she is. She will never turn karg. I don’t know exactly when I first changed; it might have been around my fourteenth or fifteenth year, it might have been earlier. I was out with some friends in the fields: a mock fight turned into a real fight, and there was a moment of sensation like flying, and then the Gowdie part of me had gone, and the karg stood there and howled to the sky. When I got back that night I burst in on Betany and our mother dining together in the big hall, and I was so excited that I didn’t think too clearly. I leapt onto the table and sent everything flying. I was still karg. I remember the sensation of wagging my tail.
The wrestling with Alexis is helping. She is strong enough to withstand me, unless I get mad, and lose it, and then even Alexis ends up bruised. I still can’t get over her being here, and I sure didn’t think I’d end up wanting to share time with her. I wonder if she has any idea of what’s been going through my head, day after day. I wonder how she’d feel about it… her, and me, or the karg. I wonder how it would feel.
Maybe I should just throw in the towel and get them to chain me up again.
*******
Teinne read Betany’s missive and sat down to think about it. From her viewpoint she could see across the valley and beyond the next set of hills. The sun was beginning to sink down behind those hills, and the sky was as lovely as it ever got. She re-read the words and put the scroll down, stood up and began to pace. That was always her way: pacing back and forth in the long corridor that was open one side to the elements, but which was roofed over. She walked there every day, even when snow blew in along the balcony.
So Betany thought that something was rotten in the heart of the land or somewhere else. Well, she might just have a point. Teinne was sorry that the message hadn’t been brought over by Betany’s new partner: she would have taken a shine to the funny dark girl with all the scars in any case. The fact that said funny dark kid had taken time out to bury Teinne’s sister was just another reason for liking her. Ashe had taken up residence with Betany, and that was reason enough at least to consider what Betany was now suggesting. Besides, Teinne had had so many bad dreams in the preceding weeks that she was ready to concede that something was out of kilter in the world.
She sat down and leaned back against the castle’s inner wall, stretching her feet out. She was so tall that this action could trip up most passers-by. But Brede was a lot more agile than most of the population of Rath Bel, and she skipped over her leader’s boots and sat down beside her. She glanced at the scroll and then at Teinne herself. “Good news? Bad news? News of any sort?”
Teinne handed over the scroll. “Read for yourself.” A minute passed. Dusk settled over the valley. An early owl cut a path just above the hedgerows that divided up the fields. Brede re-rolled the scroll and held it in one hand, tapping an end lightly on her knee. Teinne looked at her. “Alright. What do you think?”
Brede said, “She’s right. Something is beginning to go wrong. When we had the last scroll, when Calypso was ranting and raving, it never struck me as seeming very important.”
“Important enough that I took an army into battle.”
“But you never had to fight, did you? You met Ashe and that meant that the armies of Rath Bel could never go against her or whoever she was fighting with. At the time I had the oddest sense that everything was nothing more than a rehearsal. That battle wasn’t the real issue.”
“Try telling that to everyone who lost someone as a result of that unreal issue of a battle.”
“You know what I mean. And more: as battles go it was almost blood-free. The only people who really got hammered were the Mercians, especially Calypso and her sidekick.”
“One would never guess that you and Alexis grew up together, to hear the way you talk about her now.”
“We grew up together through nothing more than a trick of geography. If my family hadn’t been hounded out of our country I never would have met Alexis. As it is, I don’t consider that I was exactly… privileged to do so. Knowing Alexis hasn’t been what I would consider one of my best experiences.”
“At least you didn’t fuck her. Now that would have made our retreat embarrassing.”
Brede looked at her captain and thought: is she ever going to forgive me for Alexis? What we had, we had mostly as kids, puppy-love stuff that was tried out and used up long before we went our separate ways. It was nice enough while it lasted and I suppose I wouldn’t have missed it. I don’t know: maybe I was better off for getting my feelings hurt when I was young enough to learn how to hide how I felt. It wasn’t really that much: I don’t even remember how her mouth felt against mine. I don’t recollect how her skin smelled, or if her hair was soft or coarse. It was all too long ago. And, “at least you didn’t fuck her”, hey? Thank the Gods she’s still ignorant on that score. She raised her eyes to the view, saw the owl for herself, and commented on it.
“Are you glad you didn’t come with me when we went into battle? You would have seen Alexis then. D’you think she’d have recognised you?”
Brede kept her gaze fixed on the owl. Just a white and grey patch moving through the air, then fixing onto the head of a rail like a little ghost. She waited out the beats until the owl had taken off again, dived on some small and unsuspecting rodent, and then carried it away to be dismembered and eaten in private. Then she waited a little longer still, in the hope that Teinne might have changed the subject or at least gotten bored of the previous one. But when she next looked up she saw an old and ruthlessly fixed expression on Teinne’s face.
“She wouldn’t have known me,” she said, slowly. “I probably wouldn’t have recognised her, either. It was a long time ago.”
“But she was your first lover.” Brede fixed her eyes on a distant point of the horizon and let her mind empty of all thoughts. She breathed in a distillation of evening cool and impending supper. “Don’t you remember her at all?”
Sometimes lying is easier, thought Brede, lying. “No. If she hadn’t ended up with Calypso I’m sure our paths would never have crossed. All that stuff… It’s all a blur.” This from the woman who could probably tell one beech leaf from another as they blew past in the early autumn wind. “Do you remember your first?” The words were out before she’d had the chance to consult her brain.
“You should know that.” Teinne’s tone had grown cooler still. She got to her feet, rolling the scroll between her palms. “Coming down to supper?” Brede nodded, gratefully. “I’ll get a reply off to Betany first thing in the morning. If I draft it tonight before bed, will you proof it?”
“Teinne, you don’t need a proof… Of course I will.” Teinne’s skills were most evident during battles or sex: writing had never been a big part of her life. Brede’s skills covered a more varied range. Teinne walked on ahead. Brede watched her go, and wondered if she was ever going to be forgiven Alexis.
*******
Betany was having trouble accepting the news from Mercia. Her soldiers still held the capital – of course – and there were other troops ready should reinforcement be required; but the news that not only was Calypso dead but that her sister had risen up – cobra-like – from her dead ashes was just too much to take on board. The poor sod of a messenger who’d brought the latest advisement – last time it was the news of Calypso’s death – was beginning to think that she’d made a seriously bad career choice.
At least this new… cobra was being well-behaved so far. Her message to Betany was an embarrassing blend of compliment, well-versed platitude and veiled warning. Surely Betany would not object to the funeral rites being carried out in due course, as befitted Calypso’s status? It might be true that Mercia had recently been defeated, but that time and rule was over and done with. Was there not now the opportunity for a new and forward-thinking alliance between Mercia and Caer Arianrhod? “Over my dead body,” said Betany, softly, as she read. This new leader – even if she did rule in name only – was trouble. Perhaps this then was the personification of Betany’s free-floating anxiety: Calypso’s sister. Berrach. Betany didn’t even like the name.
*******
That night, settling down to sleep and hoping that no-one would try to use any part of her body as a pillow, Ashe found herself missing Betany so acutely that her heart did ache. Perhaps that sense of loss was responsible for the dreams that drank up her night.
She’d tried to pin down Fallon on the subject of the temple. Ashe desperately wanted not to know about the temple as much as she guessed she needed to hear about it. After supper Hero had – unexpectedly - passed around a flask of some kind of homebrew, a little of which went a very long way, and they were all a little merry. Even Ashe felt intoxicated, and Fallon, who was just a skinny kid, seemed drunk. Ashe was never going to get anyone inebriated in order to take physical advantage of them, but taking cerebral advantage was something else entirely.
Ashe was a little sickened by her own behaviour. There was Betany on the other side of the world – or so it felt – while she lay back, under her own warm cloak again, with Fallon’s head again cushioned by Ashe’s arm.
Ashe had not invited Fallon to use her as a pillow – again – but she hadn’t attempted to shrug her off, either. As Fallon chattered on, Ashe waited for a space into which to insinuate her questions. She didn’t have to work too hard to play dumb: Fallon had about her a fair degree of youthful arrogance, and she was happy to patronise Ashe. Fallon reminded Ashe very much of Laure, except that the then princess – now queen – would never have fallen asleep in such close proximity to Ashe, let alone have chattered so easily to her. .
Ashe went about her questioning indirectly. “Have you known Coll long?”
Fallon sighed. “Oh, I’ve known Coll for ever. For… ever.” What the fuck was in Hero’s flask? Even Ashe’s head was not wholly clear. Fallon made an expansive gesture that nearly hit her listener in the eye. “We grew up together. Our families are both old blood. We can trace our ancestors back to the founding of Plethe.” Ashe scowled: she’d experienced too much evidence of social rankings in her life ever to like or tolerate them. “She’s always been a bit of a rebel. I’m puzzled, really,” said Fallon, turning round and leaning on an elbow, her face and body too close to Ashe’s for the latter’s comfort. “I mean… She’d never shown any interest in the Word, that I knew of, and she always told me everything.
“Whereas you had… always been intended as a potential apprentice?”
“Oh, yes.” Fallon made another dangerous gesture. Ashe captured the wandering hand and held it firmly between her own. “I always knew that I’d be an apprentice in the Word of the Red Temple…” She stumbled a little over the words and Ashe grudgingly pushed the conversation further.
“Fallon, what exactly is this famous temple and its equally famous word?”
Fallon giggled. “You don’t know? Oh, Ashe! I thought everyone knew.” Ashe set her teeth. “It’s the most famous site for learning. The chance of spending time there is something everyone hopes for, but which very few get to do. There are all sorts of tests and examinations to go through first.”
“Did Coll do them?” Ashe was curious. “I mean… You said that it was a last-minute thing, her joining with the party.”
Fallon frowned. Her speech was slurred by sleep or alcohol. “Exactly that! I went to her family’s house to say goodbye to her and what do I find but Coll sorting out clothes for the trip.”
Ashe said, “What about the exams you all had to do?” She was puzzled.
Fallon watched a shooting star cross the sky. She said, sleepily, “I ’spect she did. Everybody has to…” She closed her eyes and was instantly asleep, her head a dead weight on Ashe’s arm. Ashe was used to physical discomfort, and she didn’t really mind Fallon’s closeness, even if the kid did remind Ashe of the princess. Fallon’s tone when educating Ashe, that blend of arrogance and patronage, was oddly familiar.
Ashe didn’t like the sound of the Red Temple. When she’d seen it from a distance it had been no problem. But since that vision – or whatever it had been – she’d begun to think of it as a threat. But how could that be, if Hero was happily leading a group of young, smart and well-connected kids there? Ashe just didn’t know.
“You think I don’t have the right to be going to the Red Temple.” The voice was gruff and unquestionably Coll’s. She had crossed the snow silently and now she sat down beside Ashe, cross-legged, on her sleeping pack.
“No,” said Ashe, honestly enough. “I’m sure you’re ideal for it. I’m just curious about the place. I don’t even know what the Word is, for one thing.” She watched Coll. So far there had not been even another suggestion of Coll’s possessor showing up, but Ashe was wary. “It’s just that you’re of an old and high-ranked family and yet Hero’s easy enough about knocking you down. She doesn’t act like that with anyone else.”
“Although my family has the right to let me attend upon the Word of the Red Temple, they didn’t ever express much interest in it.”
Ashe was sick of the title. “Coll, please let’s just call it the temple, alright? I’m sure it’s very fine and very… red, but as titles go, it’s beginning to sicken me.”
“Alright.” But Coll sounded uncertain. “Ashe, we’re brought up to use the full title the whole time. But with you… With your not being one of us, I mean… I suppose it’s alright.” She said out loud, “The Temple.”
Ashe grinned. She said, “How long has it been there? How long has Plethe been sending it apprentices?”
“Since the city was sited. The tales have it that it was established long ago by a wise-woman of immense power.” Ashe scowled. “For years she remained there alone, communing with the stars and the spirits. Passing pilgrims would visit her to ask for guidance and knowledge. Eventually she decided to take on an apprentice, then a group. Each group’d be educated for a year and then pass from the Temple in possession of a higher level of understanding.”
“And it lasted.”
“Yes. But the strain of so much teaching took its toll and eventually the wise-woman decided that she would only accept apprentices every four years.”
“That’s still a lot of work,” said Ashe. “For how long has this been going on?”
“Three hundred and fourteen years. Approximately.”
“Then the wise-woman,… the teacher who began it all… She’s either been replaced, or she’s about three hundred and fifty. I’ve never heard of anyone living that long.”
Coll was looking at Ashe much as Fallon had done so earlier; that displeasing blend of patronage and disdain . “Well, obviously. It is her teachings that live on. Every few years the most talented of the apprentices is asked to stop behind and learn from the current teacher. Then they will take on her role when she dies, and the pattern is repeated.”
Ashe closed her eyes then. She was tired and sick of asking questions. She was also homesick and a little heartsick, and neither made for easy sleep. Odd then, perhaps, that she should have drifted off so easily after talking with Coll. Fallon hadn’t stirred an inch throughout the conversation. Coll spread out her bedroll and settled down on her side, her back presented to Ashe. Beneath their lids, Ashe’s eyes moved rapidly as she dropped directly into her dream.
*******
Despite the unbelievable irritation of having my every move considered and approved – or not – by the morons Betany has allowed to watch over Mercia, I made Calypso’s funeral quite a spectacle. In retrospect I can see that the need to make constant fucking reference to the (present) representatives of Rath Bel prevented me from going entirely mad and rounding off the funeral rites with a display of fireworks. Even Betany’s rules have their uses, thus. But I did want fireworks.
After the rites had been concluded I took my grave expression and my graver still demeanour and returned to my new chambers. I swear I could hear the approving whispers of those Mercian ministers who witnessed my behaviour. I find it is necessary to spend a good part of each day regarding my own reflection in a mirror in order to control it. For such a long time I did not know how visible were my emotions were. Now I have evidence of what I look like when I feel and think the things that I do, and I am learning how to form a mask to stand between what I feel and how I look. I like mirrors: they may well prove the boundaries to my new world.
When I was alone again and the door to my room had been secured, I gave myself a break from the fastidious and meditative shape I wear for the other world, and danced like a dervish until I dropped to the ground, exhausted.
But the night was gone quickly. I slept on the floor where I’d landed, and when dawn came, it found me up and at my desk, designing armies and coffins. I’ll need both: at least, my followers will need both. An army, first. Besides, do I really need coffins when there are forests standing to be my funeral pyres?
*******
Betany had asked Alexis to attend upon her in Betany’s own chambers. She wasn’t sure that the setting was entirely appropriate, but she had some respect for Alexis’s feelings. When Alexis was shown in – the guard remained outside in a state of highly-agitated attention – Betany was pouring wine for them both. Alexis took the gesture for the politeness for which it was intended. She accepted the cup and sat down in the chair to which her hostess had gestured. She didn’t even make any jokes about poisoned cups.
“Did you know that Calypso had a sister?” Alexis’s mouth dropped open. “Alright, I guess that answers that.”
“A sister? What in the name… A sister? Fuck!”
“Is it possible that Calypso herself didn’t know?”
“Well…” Alexis took a mouthful of wine and had to swallow twice to get it down. “I suppose it might be possible… I just don’t… How did you find out? I take it that Mercia too knows it.”
“It knows. The reports I’m receiving suggest that even while the news has come as a major shock to the people there, the elders of the city seem less ignorant. Seeing as someone – or several someones – must have been aware of her existence all these years, that doesn’t seem so strange.”
“When did all this come out?”
“She wrote to me. She wanted to carry out some pretty serious funeral rites for her sister. I gave my consent: how could I not? We’re not occupying Mercia, we’re only keeping an eye on it for a while. If I thought that this woman was reliable and not likely to lead Mercia into a war against us I’d probably agree to my own troops leaving.”
“But you don’t think that, do you?” Alexis was coming round to the new idea. She was a little surprised at how distasteful she found it. “That she’s reliable, I mean.”
Betany sighed. “I don’t know. For some reason I can’t quantify, I find even her name hard to speak out loud. You can imagine how warmly I approach the idea of her taking up a position of power.”
“What is she called, Betany?”
“Berrach.”
“Berrach.” Alexis smiled diffidently. “Tell me, Betany, are you likely to trust anything that I say?”
“I’m naturally inclined to distrust your every word, but I don’t think that Ashe would have expected you to betray us so easily. Added to that, you asked to come here, rather than to stay in Mercia, and I think you were truly afraid of what might happen to you there. Bearing all that in mind, is there anything specific that you want me to take on trust?”
“A word. Berrach is an old word,” said Alexis. “It’s from the earliest Mercian records. Indeed, I doubt if even our elders remember its meaning.”
“Which is?”
“Ultimate destruction.”
“Oh, fuck.”
*******
Ashe was thinking much the same thing but in a less appropriate setting. Something had happened that disturbed her quite a bit. Waking from uneven dreams she found Fallon awake beside her. And this time Fallon hadn’t come over to talk about Coll. Indeed, the first words Ashe heard on sliding from her dreaming state was, “Is this… Is this alright?” And a hand reached to touch her. Ashe managed a kind of polite jolt that took her into an upright position. She might have coped better with that had Fallon not decided to interpret the move as encouragement. Another moment and Fallon was more or less in her arms. Ashe managed to push the girl gently away and said, “I have… someone, Fallon.”
“So? Coll and I have been lovers – off and on – for ages and she doesn’t mind. She’d be happy to join us.”
Ashe tried to extricate herself from her bedroll, without getting any closer to Fallon. She said, “That’s nice, but you’re not taking on board what I said. I already have a lover.”
“We’re talking sex, Ashe, not love.” This from Coll, who had woken on her other side. “Fallon and me, we often share. It might be fun. Come on: don’t be a prude.”
Ashe woke up. Her heart was pounding and someone had clearly set off some fireworks behind her eyes. To her side Fallon still lay peacefully sleeping. Ashe glanced in a wary fashion to where Coll was stretched out. She too was fast asleep. Ashe stretched out, shut her eyes and decided that if they didn’t reach the Red Temple the next day, she was giving up and going home. And if they did reach it, well, she’d stay one night – out of ordinary politeness – and then she’d go home.
Maybe her libido and her imagination would do her a huge favour and travel separately.