The Warrior's Path (20 page)

“Maara felt unsafe with us,” the Lady said. “The reason doesn’t matter now, and I won’t speak of it again. When she stood before this council, I told her that if she proved trustworthy, she would have a place here. I have yet to honor that promise.”

I watched the faces of the elders. Namet was smiling, and I believed she was glad that Maara’s service to us would be recognized. Fodla looked thoughtful, but I didn’t think she disapproved of the idea. The others seemed more curious than anything, wondering what the Lady had in mind.

“Maara has skills we may find useful,” the Lady said. “She knows the country of the northern tribes and speaks a little of their language. I’ve spent some time with her, and she is interesting to talk to, although her manners are not what we are used to. Our warriors might learn from her, if they would take the trouble to get to know her a little.”

I felt Vintel’s impatience. She stood with her arms folded across her chest. She was never tolerant of long-winded speeches, especially if they appeared to have nothing to do with her.

The Lady turned to me and motioned for me to stand up. “You all know Tamras, the daughter of my shield friend. She has been with us for almost a year, and she has done well.”

I blushed at her unexpected praise.

“She too has done this house a service,” the Lady said.

“What service has she done?” said Vintel. “She’s just a child.”

“She guaranteed our safety,” the Lady told her. “She pledged her life for our safety, and that is no small thing.”

Vintel would have said more, if the Lady’s eyes hadn’t stopped her.

“Tamras has asked a gift for her service,” the Lady said, turning back to the women of the council. “I believe that what she asks will be good for her and for this house. Maara has asked for her as an apprentice, and Tamras has accepted. The gift she asks of me is my consent, and I have given it.”

Vintel’s mouth dropped open. She was more surprised than angry, but anger would soon follow.

Fet stood up. “Will you give us your reasons for believing this plan is best for everyone?”

“First, the two of them are strong together. Maara cared enough for her companion to bring us a warning of the danger that threatened us.”

“She gave us another reason,” said Fodla.

“She may have had many reasons,” the Lady told her. “She gave you the one you understood.”

Fodla nodded. She was satisfied with that explanation.

“And Tamras cared enough for her warrior to stand beside her when no one else in this household would even listen to her. Second, it is what they wish, and it strikes me as mean-spirited not to honor their wish, considering what we owe them. Third, I believe we would be well served if Maara were to stay with us. If she is bound to us through her apprentice, she may feel more at home here and less inclined to leave us.”

The Lady would have said more, but Fet raised her hand to stop her.

“That’s enough for me,” she said, and she sat down.

Vintel could not keep silent. “I took your warriors to the ravine, while this child and her warrior stayed at home.”

“Vintel,” said the Lady, “you are the first of all my warriors, and upon you the burden of leadership falls. You have no need to perform any special service to ask a gift of me. If there is anything you want, you need only ask.”

The thing Vintel wanted, of course, was me, and I was now spoken for.

“There is something I hope you will consider,” the Lady went on. “Eramet, whom you made a warrior, has left us her own apprentice. Eramet valued her highly, so highly that she didn’t mind that she had no ties of blood or friendship to bring with her. I want you to consider taking Sparrow as your apprentice.”

By now I think Vintel realized that it was time for her to make the best of things. “I might take her as a companion,” she said.

“If she consents, I won’t oppose it. Just remember that in the spring there will be other warriors coming to this household who may be glad to apprentice someone who already has some training and experience and who has also proved herself on the battlefield. You told me yourself that she has shown both courage and ability.”

I glanced at Sparrow out of the corner of my eye. She sat unmoving, her eyes on Vintel. I had an idea that, under the table, she had her fingers crossed for wishing.

“Give me some time to think it over,” Vintel said.

“Of course,” the Lady said. “Take all the time you need.”

Vintel turned and left the room without looking at me. After she left, the Lady motioned to me to sit down, and I went back to my place on the hearthstone.

The women of the council began to speak of other things. I didn’t hear them. All I could think about was that I was going to have everything I wanted. I would stay with Maara, and she would stay with me. I would be apprenticed, and someday I would be a warrior. Someone took my hand. When I looked down, I saw the twinkle in Gnith’s eyes.

After the council meeting, the Lady took me aside.

“It’s not too late to undo this if you change your mind,” she said.

“I won’t change my mind.”

“For one so young, you seem quite sure that you’re not doing something foolish.”

I didn’t know what being young had to do with it. It seemed to me that older people could do foolish things just as easily as young ones. I had certainly seen older people do some very foolish things.

“I thank you, Lady,” I said, “for giving me what I asked of you. I know you don’t believe my decision is a wise one. I hope that in time you’ll see the wisdom in it.”

“Yes,” she said. “I hope so too.” She touched my cheek with the backs of her fingers and gave me a reluctant smile. Then a troubled look came into her eyes. “I think we had best seal your apprenticeship as soon as possible, so that no one is tempted to try to undo what we have done this morning.” She meant Vintel. “Take this news to your warrior, and tell her I wish to speak with her.”

Maara was with the Lady for a long time. When she returned, she looked so solemn that I feared she was bringing me bad news.

“Did she talk you out of it?” I asked her.

“She didn’t try. She wanted to be certain that I understand my obligation to you.”

Now I thought I knew what had taken so long. The lists of obligations sometimes seemed endless. Many stories included a recitation of one list or another. They were important. They defined what was expected of the parties to an apprenticeship or an alliance or a marriage. Still, they were the bane of storytellers, because they would put their listeners to sleep.

I smiled. “I’m surprised you weren’t there all day.”

Maara smiled back at me. “I’ve heard the list of obligations before. They’re not so different here from what they were where I became a warrior.”

I almost said, “Where was that?” It was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t say it. It didn’t seem right to ask for more than I’d already been given that day. It seemed too greedy. Instead I said, “I promised to release you from your obligation to me, and I will, if you ever change your mind.”

Maara shook her head. “No one should undertake an obligation she doesn’t intend to honor. It may be that circumstances will prevent me from fulfilling my obligation to you, but that is possible in any apprenticeship.”

I thought of Sparrow’s apprenticeship to Eramet.

“Things may happen here that will make it impossible for me to stay,” she said, “so you’ve taken a risk by choosing me. The Lady is concerned about that. You’re important to her, and she wants the best for you.”

I started to roll my eyes, but I stopped myself, because I didn’t want to appear disrespectful of the Lady. Maara read my expression anyway and understood what I was thinking.

“Today,” she said, “the Lady gave you what you wanted against her own better judgment. She could have withheld her consent and forced the issue between you, and you would have had either to obey her or to sacrifice your opportunity. She knew you would not obey her, and while someone else might have tried to punish you for that, she is trying to make the best of it. Few would have set aside their own feelings as the Lady has.”

Maara was right. I resolved that the next time I had a chance to speak to the Lady, I would thank her with more sincerity than I’d felt when I thanked her earlier that day.

“Someone will come for us this evening,” Maara said. “Until then, I think we should stay out of harm’s way.”

“What will happen this evening?”

“Tonight your new life will begin. Tonight your old world will be shattered, so that you can leave it behind.”

“How will it happen?”

“I couldn’t tell you even if I knew. It’s something no one speaks of, and you must never speak of it to anyone except for those who will be there.”

“Who will be there?”

“I will,” she said, “and one of the elders.”

I remembered the time when I became a woman. The women of my family shattered the world of my childhood when I began to bleed. It was both a sad and a joyful thing. It was a simple ritual, but when it was over, I knew there was no going back.

“Will it be like the end of childhood?” I asked her.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know how these things are done among your people.”

“What was it like for you?”

She shook her head. “Everyone’s experience is different. You will stop being one thing and become another. That’s all I can tell you about it.”

Suddenly I realized that everything was going to change. I had been living with uncertainty for so long that I should have been more prepared, but I had been thinking that things would go back to being the way they used to be, to the way that had been comfortable and familiar. Now I knew that could never happen, any more than I could be the same person tomorrow that I was yesterday.

Maara and I kept to her room all day. We didn’t talk much. We were both still tired from the celebration of midwinter’s night, and we slept for several hours in the afternoon. The rest of the time I kept busy trying to make a shirt for myself, without much success.

Maerel’s clothing had been shared out among the companions. Although she had been bigger than I was, I found an old shirt of hers that fit me fairly well. Since it was almost worn out, I decided to use it as a pattern to make myself a new one.

Namet gave me a bit of linen cloth. I carefully picked apart the stitches of the old shirt and laid the pieces out on the new cloth, but there wasn’t quite enough of it.

“Maybe you could make the sleeves shorter,” said Maara, who had been amusing herself by watching my clumsy efforts.

“What good is a shirt without sleeves?”

“It might be nice in summer.”

“It will look silly.”

“Probably.” She smiled.

I picked up the pieces of the shirt and laid them out differently. Once again they failed to fit. I was about to try something else when Sparrow appeared in the doorway. When she saw what I was doing, she made an impatient noise and sat down next to me. She picked up the shirt pieces and tucked them around each other so cleverly that everything fit perfectly.

“How did you do that?” I asked her.

“I learned in Arnet’s house.”

“Thank you.”

She had started to get up, but she stopped and knelt in front of me.

“Thank you too,” she said. “For speaking for me.”

“I hope it’s for the best.” I had my doubts about Vintel.

Sparrow grinned at me. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t manage a smile.

“Listen,” she said. “If Vintel accepts me, my place here will be secure. If she doesn’t, and if no one else will take me, I’ll have to go back home. I will still be a free woman, but I’ll never be more than a servant in Arnet’s house. I have every reason to try to please Vintel.”

I understood, but I couldn’t help saying, “You deserve better.”

Sparrow smiled. “I’ve had better, but now Vintel will do.”

By the time I finished cutting out the pieces of the shirt, the light had begun to fade. I was just putting everything away when Namet appeared in the doorway.

“Come with me,” she said.

Namet took us outside, to the kitchen yard behind the house. It was full of the debris of housekeeping — piles of wood and peat to fuel the fires, storage sheds, a place to butcher animals. Two sheds stood close together, with only a narrow alleyway between them that appeared to dead-end against a fence of palings. When Namet slipped between the sheds, I noticed a wellworn path between them.

Maara and I followed her. When we reached the fence, we squeezed through a narrow opening behind one of the sheds and emerged into an empty space enclosed by palings. The area within the fence was the size of a circle made by a dozen people joining hands. I never knew that space was there. None of the windows of the house overlooked it, and it was impossible to see into it from ground level. If I had ever noticed the tops of the palings, I had probably mistaken them for part of the palisade.

Namet slipped off her shoes. She opened the front of her gown and let it fall to the ground. She wore nothing underneath. Maara followed Namet’s example. She pulled her boots off, slipped her shirt off over her head, and dropped it next to her. Then she undid her belt and stepped out of her trousers. She motioned to me to do the same. The hair on my body stood up in the cold air, and the frozen leaves of grass tickled my feet.

At the center of the circle was an opening in the earth. The top of a ladder protruded from it. Namet went down the ladder, and Maara and I followed her. We found ourselves in a small, round chamber that appeared to have been hollowed out of the hilltop. Above us a framework of hewn beams, covered with a lattice of poles and woven mats, supported the earthen roof. A score of people could have fit easily inside the chamber. The opening through which we’d entered it was several feet above our heads. Inside the air was warm, and although I was naked, I wasn’t cold.

At the center of the chamber was a hearth, where a fire was already burning. From the pile of ash around it, I guessed it had been burning for several days. The elders must have conducted their midwinter ritual here.