Waterborn

She appeared again, stepping from the mouth of the stream, stepping Riverward.

'I told you,' he heard her say, her voice just audible. 'I warned you, my love! But you can escape him, as I cannot…' Then she was gone again, eaten by the River.

Always, he thought. Every moment. He had known that she was in pain. Only now was he beginning to understand it. He had promised to rid her of this pain as if she were a young girl with a cruel father or a nagging aunt. How she must have hated him for promising that, for mocking her agony with his youthful stupidity.

Far behind now, she appeared again, still watching him, replaying her ancient fate.

Live, Perkar, he thought she called, but her voice was very faint.

II

Dread and the Living

Hezhi stretched back on the bench, let sunlight drench her, seep through her skin and down into her bones. A breeze sighed through the ancient cottonwood in the center of the courtyard, stirred the white yarrow, and enfolded her in its fragrance. Her face felt transparent, the fine little bones beneath her dark skin like brittle glass. Here, in the courtyard, she could close her eyes and yet the light shone through; there was no darkness to be found even if one sought it. Her eyes were weary from avoiding darkness, and closing them was an extravagant luxury.

'Too much sun can burn you, Princess,' Tsem's great voice informed her gently.

'I'll stay here awhile longer, I think,' she told him.

'Princess, what of Ghan? You don't want to anger him, do you?'

'I don't care,' she said. 'I don't care if he is angry. I want to be out here.' Away from the darkness, away from the image of D'en that darkness always awoke.

'Princess, you haven't been to the library in days. This isn't like you.'

'It doesn't matter, Tsem,' she said. 'It doesn't matter anymore, don't you see? I found him. I found D'en. D'enata.' Her voice trembled on his name; she had never said it aloud as a ghost name, ever. But she said it now and knew it for the truth, though his body—or what it had become—was yet living.

'You and Qey, you were right all along. It was better that I didn't know.'

'You would have learned eventually,' Tsem pointed out.

'Eventually, when it's all over, when I either join them or join my father. And I wouldn't have had to see him, then. You don't know, Tsem.'

'I know I don't, Princess.'

'I would have been happier, Tsem, if I had never tried to find out.'

'Really?' Tsem said. 'What's the point of that sort of speculation? I might have been happier if I'd been born free, among my mother's people. But I might not have. I'll never know.'

'It's not the same thing,' she snapped.

'You am right,' Tsem pronounced thickly. 'Tsem not understand what Princess feel.'

She fought to be angry at that. Tsem only used his stupid voice with her when he was questioning her perceptiveness. She couldn't find her anger, though. She found sadness instead, and fear, fear of what she would do without her huge friend.

'You're always good to me, Tsem. I'm sorry. Maybe our situations are similar, in that way.'

Tsem stroked her head. 'No,' he said. 'I think you're right about that. I only meant that wondering what might have been is not as productive as planning what might be.'

'Where does a slave learn this kind of wisdom, Tsem?'

Tsem coughed out a short, humorless laugh. 'It is the kind of wisdom slaves have, Princess, if they have any at all.'

She pushed thoughtfully at her dress. 'I wish I knew when the priests will test me again.'

'What good would that do?'

She lifted one hand in an I-don't-know sort of gesture. 'In the meantime…' she began.

'Yes, Princess?'

'In the meantime I want you to deliver a message for me.'

Tsem raised his eyebrows. 'A message?'

'Yes. Please inform Wezh Yehd Nu that I would like to meet him in the Onyx Courtyard this evening, if it is to his liking.'

'Princess?'

Hezhi sighed. 'I have to go on as if I will have a life,' she told him. 'Else I will go mad.'

Tsem nodded solemnly. 'If you will be safe here, I will go inform him at once.'

'I think I will sit here a bit longer, but then I will go to the library. You can meet me there this afternoon to escort me to meet Wezh.'

'Very good, Princess.'

'And thanks, Tsem,' she said earnestly.

'You are quite welcome, Princess.' He heaved to his feet and lumbered off. She watched him go, let the sun saturate her a bit more. Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she pulled forth the little statuette, the horse-woman, turned it over and over in her hand. Did the strange, pale man in her dreams ride a horse? She decided that he probably did. Lately, she had come to welcome the dreams of forest and the strange man—they kept away the nightmares about D'en and L'ekezh. Ironically, those dreams of faraway had become less frequent, less forceful. The forest was almost faded entirely, though the man, when she dreamed of him, was more vivid than ever. Reluctantly she rose and set her feet in the direction of the library.

 

 

'I'm not complaining, mind you,' Qey insisted. 'It's just that I thought you didn't like this Wezh fellow.'

'Well,' Hezhi explained, biting into a plum, 'it doesn't really matter whether I like him or not, does it? There are worse men to be courted by, and to hear Tsem tell it, they are queuing up to do so.'

'Well, they should be. You are very beautiful, Hezhi.'

'Pfah. I could be a sack of grain, for all they care. As long as I was a sack of grain whose father was Emperor.'

'That may be true,' Qey admitted, 'but there are many noble daughters. In you, the young men can see a lovely woman, and in a few years a stunning one. If one must marry, it is better to marry someone pleasant looking.'

'They don't see that in me,' she protested.

Qey shook her head. 'You'll see. You'll have your mother's face and figure, I can already tell that. Even if you inherit from your father's side—his sisters are all quite pretty.'

'Not so pretty as his brother,' Hezhi muttered.

Qey turned an astonished face away from the stove. 'What did you say?'

'Nothing,' she quickly amended. 'Nothing, just a joke.'

'Your father's brother is dead, Hezhi. It isn't something to joke about.'

'I know.' She wiped the plum juice from her mouth with the back of her hand.

'Anyway,' Qey remarked, changing the subject, 'how was your meeting with Wezh Yehd Nu?'

'He tried to be pleasant, and succeeded well enough, I suppose.' She smiled. 'I think he was very surprised to hear from me. He told me he had given up.'

'Did he bring a present, then?'

'Oh, yes. I think his mother picked it out.' She reached into her bag to show Qey her present, feeling a brief, inexplicable sadness when her hand brushed the statuette. She drew out Wezh's gift and set it on the table.

'Oh, that's a nice perfume,' Qey said, examining the crystal bottle.

'So I hear. I'll wear it next time I meet him.'

'You'll be meeting him again?' Qey asked, a bit surprised.

'Yes. He's taking me to a drama tomorrow.'

'Which one?'

Hezhi cleared her throat. 'The Eel and the Lion it's called. A romance, I think.' She