Instead of answering, the big woman took her by the shoulder, saying, “So, Lutha Tallstaff, what’s happened thus far? Have you solved our problem?”
Before Lutha could answer, Leely appeared suddenly at the door of the wain, totally naked, his skin darkly and oddly blotched with chill. I went quickly to him, leaving Lutha to deal with the demands of Poracious Luv. I could hear them from inside the wagon.
“Your son?” asked the big woman in a kindlier voice. “No doubt he likes the feel of air on his skin. I did, when I was smaller. Now I have rather too much skin for the air. I understand your son is an amazing artist.”
“Where did you hear that?” Lutha asked, surprised.
“I heard of it in Simidi-ala,” Poracious said. “I was told he did some excellent portraits there. There is one on the wall of a women’s convenience. They have framed it and put Perspex across it. They say he is beloved of Weaving Woman.”
I glanced outside, to see Lutha much discomfited, digging her toe in the dirt.
“I know all about him,” Poracious confided. “You needn’t be diffident or defensive with me. We are both women. We understand our feelings, whether these men and Fastigats do or not.”
“Leelson doesn’t think Leely’s human,” Lutha blurted.
“My, my,” Poracious said. “He is exclusionary, is he not?”
Exclusionary was an improper word in the Alliance, so Lutha had said, more than once. The Alliance likes to think of itself as an egalitarian organization.
Lutha said, “That’s not quite accurate where Leelson is concerned. His prejudice is limited to his own children. His family has certain well-defined expectations for its posterity, that’s all.”
“Oh, my, don’t we all know that,” Poracious murmured. “I’ve met his mama.” She winked at Lutha. “Don’t take me for a fool, lovely girl. We fat old things have not laid aside our brains with our silhouettes. We put on flesh for as many reasons as others make love, have you ever thought about that? Out of lust, out of habit, out of greed, out of ambition. Out of time, too little or too much of it, or too little else doing in it.” She sighed. “The flesh does not represent the spirit, for which observation one can thank the Great Gauphin. Though one wonders, sometimes, what the purpose is of either spirit or flesh.”
She gave Lutha a kindly pat, ignoring her confusion, then beckoned to the ex-king, who had been standing diffidently to one side, looking rather lonely.
He came over, hesitantly, asking, “Has your group been threatened at all?”
It seemed an odd question. Lutha said, “Threatened by the Kachis, certainly. Not particularly by anyone else until we came near the omphalos.”
“Have you learned anything?” asked Poracious.
Lutha said, “We found a voice recording that Bernesohn Famber left in Cochim-Mahn. It was old, fragmentary, not at all clear. It mentioned three things—the abandoned gods of the Dinadhi; the omphalos, which is why we came here; and finally a few enigmatic words about the rejoinder of his posterity.”
“Abandoned gods?” the ex-king asked with an intent and eager look. “Tell me?”
“The Dinadhi claim they came here from somewhere else, or perhaps were sent here from somewhere else, after being commanded to leave certain of their gods behind. In return, they were to receive”—she paused, glancing through the open door of the wain at me—“ immortality?”
“You don’t sound sure,” said the king, still in that intent voice.
“I’m not. The whole matter’s complicated.” She led them away from the wagon slightly, and when I heard the king ask, “What’s a Kachis?” I knew she was telling them about our beliefs.
They talked quietly, then Poracious’s voice rose:
“These Kachis must have a lengthy life span if one of them has been around since Bernesohn’s time!”
Even Lutha forgot to keep her voice down.
“I have no idea whether there’s been one or a succession of different ones. Saluez believed the Kachis cannot die, but we saw dead ones during our trip, which has sorely tried her faith.”
Tried, but not defeated, I said to myself as I fastened Leely’s shirt.
“Does this relate in some way to the Ularian problem?” the ex-king asked.
I came out of the wagon, bringing the now clothed Leely to stand beside his mother as the king went on:
“I see no connection. These Kachis may be nasty, but the Ularians are … quite inexpressibly vile!”
I looked at him across my veil, asking, “Have you seen the Ularians?”
“I’ve seen them. And tasted them. I’ve heard the sound of the waves on the world where they are now, heard the scream of seabirds and the weeping of the girl who’s there watching them.” He shook his head, making a face. “They’re … horrible beyond belief.”
“What do they look like?” I asked.
The ex-king gestured. “Big. Big as one of your hives. Shaped, oh, like any old thing at all. A massive middle, rather shapeless, with a lot of appendages or tentacles hanging beneath like a fringe. They float. Or they sit like mountains. Or they build themselves into rancid walls of flesh that can surround an encampment! On one side, their skin is bare, and they are able to show pictures on their skins.”
I felt my eyes widen. It was an unbelievable description. Leely slipped loose and started purposefully toward the fence surrounding us. Lutha caught him just as he was climbing through.
“Dananana,” he cried, struggling to get away from her. “Dananana.”
She pulled him into her arms and asked me to get his harness from the wagon. He hated it, but sometimes it was the only solution. I fetched it and we buckled it behind him, fastening the tether