CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
In the days that followed, the two women learnt what had happened in the south. The army laying siege to Castle Vaunting had been destroyed by madness. Leaving madness guarding the castle, the garrison had marched away to the east. There were rumours to say that they had conquered more Collosnon troops at the High Castle in Trest by another application of madness. After that, their movements were not known. They had disappeared.
'But where could they have gone?' said Yen Olass.
'Who knows?' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'As it is, the land around Lorford now lies waste. There will be nobody there to trade with the Galish convoys when they start to arrive next year.’
'If they start to arrive,' said Yen Olass, knowing full well that no Galish convoys had reached Lake Armansis all through the summer and autumn.
'They will,' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg. 'Rumours of war will have frightened them, but this trade route is too valuable to be abandoned forever.’
'What about the Collosnon?' said Resbit. 'Won't they come back?’
'The soldiers, those who survived, all withdrew to Skua on the coast of Trest. We think most have gone back to Tameran, leaving only a garrison at Skua.’
'But Skua's only a fishing village,' said Resbit, remembering the talk of people who had been there. 'What can they want with that?’
'It's important so they can go home and say they conquered part of Argan,' said Yen Olass. 'That's much better than going home defeated.’
Having outlined the situation, the Melski got down to business. They wanted to build a trading post here by Lake Armansis. When the Galish convoys came through, the Melski wanted Yen Olass and Resbit to help them as translators, and, more importantly, as ears and eyes.
'As interpolators,' said Yen Olass, using an Eparget word which nobody else understood.
'What are interpolators?' said Hor-hor-hurulg-murg.
'People who help with big things and little, as needed,' said Yen Olass, practising her diplomacy.
Yen Olass had no objection to being a Melski spy. What she did not know was that the trading post was just one part of a far-ranging plan. The Melski, believing that their troubles had only started, were determined to establish a small human colony at Lake Armansis to provide them with a permanent pool of agents, spies, assassins and diplomats. Even if Yen Olass had known this, she would still have accepted it.
When Resbit and Yen Olass had first set up house by the shores of Lake Armansis, their freedom had been exhilarating. Nevertheless, even during the most idyllic moments of summer, they had always been aware how vulnerable they were to sickness or injury – or any strangers who managed to infiltrate the forest without being stopped by the Melski.
Now, with winter approaching, their need to belong to a community was becoming more and more obvious. One child already meant a lot of work. Two children would prove a heavy burden, even if they were granted unlimited supplies; as it was, sooner or later – toward the end of winter or the beginning of spring – their stores of food would run out, and they would have to forage to eat.
A way of life which had seemed delightful in the good weather, when they had plenty of looted food stashed away, now seemed increasingly impractical and, indeed, dangerous. They were glad to see the Melski establishing themselves in the area. If they had to be members of a community, the company of Melski was preferable to that of humans, for Melski males would never dream of interfering in the private arrangements of two human females, whereas to any man the two women would represent at least a temptation, if not an outright challenge. Winter came.
The Melski lived in mud-daubed huts while they worked on permanent buildings for the trading post. Yen Olass and Resbit had felled the logs for House Two in the spring, when the wood is full of sap and moisture; the Melski explained that this would encourage rot and warping. The Melski felled their own logs in the cold weather, when the trees were scarcely alive, and the wood was dry with its food value at a minimum.
'A dead tree is a dead tree,' said Yen Olass, convinced that it made no difference; House Two was certainly showing no signs of falling apart.
While the work of tree-felling was still going on, Yen Olass gave birth to her child. Her labour was very different from Resbit's. Early on, her waters burst with an audible gush which startled her, since she had never heard that such a thing was possible. She thought this might signal a swift labour, but her child was not born for a day and a night.
Long before the end of her labour, she was screaming with pain, exhaustion and utter frustration. Then the head of her child began to emerge, and, as she panted, it slithered out in a spectacular sprint to the open air.
Yen Olass felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It was out! Her labour was over!
Her child started bawling.
'A girl,' said Resbit.
'Let me see her,' said Yen Olass.
Finding herself, after all that pain and all those long hours of exhaustion, animated by an intense curiosity. The child was heavy and wet and slippery. She looked very much like Yen Olass, except that her eyes were a startling gold.
'Bring me a burning stick,' said Yen Olass. 'A what?’
'A burning stick!' commandend Yen Olass. Resbit hesitated, then obeyed.
'You're not goint to hurt her, are you?' said Resbit.
'No,' said Yen Olass, without much conviction.
If the child was blind, she was going to strangle it. She watched the child's eyes as she waved a burning brand in front of its face. The eyes did not follow the movement of the flame. Yen Olass handed the stick back to Resbit, who tossed it into the fire. The child screamed senselessly.
'What are you going to call her?' said Resbit.
'It's going to be buried without a name,' said Yen Olass, her throat choking up.
'What are you talking about?’
'It's blind!’
'Yen Olass, they don't see properly when they're born. Now you just lie back. You should feed her. Look, she's got a chin just like the emperor!’
Yen Olass looked, but could see no resemblance at all. This was not Khmar's child. This was some kind of demon spawn conjured into her body by the wishing machine which had hurt her.
'It's just as well she doesn't have the emperor's eyebrows,' said Resbit, prattling on. 'You wouldn't want to wish that on a girl! Now I've got to feed my little hero. Put the child to your breast, Yen Olass. What's her name? What're you going to call her?’
'I'll think about it,' said Yen Olass.
For the first few days, Yen Olass was intensely suspicious of her child, expecting it to turn into a frog or an old woman or something equally hideous.
But the female infant proved to be vigorously human. She was a lusty, aggressive child, bawling for food and attention, savaging the breast when she was given suck,
and, though at first she spent much of her time asleep, still managing to disrupt the nights with her demands. And she was so messy! Pissing and shitting and dribbling and snorting snot and burping up milk.
On the tenth day, Yen Olass decided her child had shown enough humanity to deserve a human name.
Tm going to call her Monogail,' said Yen Olass.
T still like Valadeen better,' said Resbit.
'No, she's going to be Monogail, because she's a true child of my homeland.’
And Yen Olass hugged her child, her very own skinned rabbit which she herself had brought into the world.
Slowly, she began to learn to take pleasure in her child. As she grew to be at ease with her infant, breastfeeding itself became pleasurable, bringing her, at times, secret swollen pleasures reminiscent of the sexual gratification of the flesh; wondering, with a little bit of guilt, if she was abnormal, she kept silent about this, being
