Chapter Seventeen: Questions and...Questions

Stripes of golden light and blue-tinted shadow lay over the Summermeet. The day took time out to think before preparing itself for night. Even the wind rested; lazy streams of smoke rose high from small fires where women prepared the last meal of the day.

Radovin followed Ottavar into Balekara's tent, twisting his neck to see everything. He almost forgot to remove his moccasins at the door. Sacred symbols covered the tent hides inside and out. Sacks and bunches of dried herbs hung from the poles along with drums and ominous masks. Baskets of various sizes and types filled some of the space around the sides. A complex spectrum of familiar herbal scents comforted him amid the flood of new experiences.

Cooking stones lay drying atop the stones of the central hearth; a steaming watertight tea basket sat beside them. Several lamps around the sides of the tent softened the growing shadows.

To Radovin's left, Balekara sat on a soft hide draped over something raised well above the ground, hands folded in her lap. She replied to Hacaben's greeting with a wave toward the hearth. Three other shamans sat across the hearth from the entrance, already enjoying some tea. They acknowledged the incoming trio with casual nods. Hacaben made a quick, sketchy introduction of Radovin, who matched more remembered names with faces.

"Sit down," Balekara said. "Have some tea while we wait for the others. Radovin, come sit by me, ah?" She smiled and beckoned. With a nervous glance at Ottavar, Radovin approached the large woman. "Sit here," she said, pointing to a hide folded fur-side in that lay near her right foot.

Radovin inclined his head. "Yes, maduana." He sat half facing her, legs crossed, elbows tight against his sides, hands folded. Jesumi would surely call him a tent-peg if she saw him; an oddly reassuring thought.

The younger of Balekara's two apprentices--sisters, Ottavar had said, and they looked it--brought him a cup of tea. He reached for it uncertainly.

"Take the tea, ah?" She smiled; not mocking or condescending, but it made Radovin uncomfortable all the same.

He took the cup. "Thank you," he forced himself to say. Her fingers had brushed against his, sending an odd jolt up his arm.

"I'm Vilanaya." She hunkered down by him. Much too close. Radovin felt the warmth radiating from her body. Owoo. He nodded, postponing speech in a dry swallow.

Balekara came to his rescue. "Vila, will you get things ready, please?"

"Yes'm." Vilanaya whisked away, leaving a maddening fragrance in Radovin's nose. He fled to his teacup and sipped the aromatic brew with intense concentration.

He observed Balekara with oblique glances. She observed him. He had a feeling that she--all of them--saw too much of him. After all the time he had kept his thoughts and feelings hidden from that one, he felt too exposed. He had let Ottavar open him like a mussel-shell. Now he needed to learn how to guard himself all over again, to find out how much he could trust anyone outside the circle of his adopted kin. To find out how much he could trust himself.

"Do you like the tea?"

"Yes, maduana. It's very good, thank you."

"Can you tell me what's in it?"

That was a safe subject. Radovin half closed his eyes and took another analytic sip before tallying the ingredients. "Rose hips, strawberry leaf, summergold, bank-mint, a little creeping heart-leaf root..." he was stretching for that one, but he did think he tasted it, "...and there's something...I don't know. Something I've never had before." He hung his head and shrugged.

"Man-root. And I don't wonder you've never tasted it. It's rare, traded from far away. It has great power to protect and strengthen. You do know your herbs well. Have another cup--and fetch me one too, please."

"Yes'm, thank you." Radovin sprang up and hurried around to the other side of the hearth. Vilanaya was safely away, poking around in some baskets. There were several cups by the tea basket. He chose one made of fine-grained wood; plain, but perfectly formed. Stained black inside, it had the mellow, silky patina of frequent handling. There was not much tea left, so he filled that cup first. The stirred-up bits went in his own cup.

Balekara took the cup with a warm smile. "Thank you, Radovin."

He sat down again, gazing at his tea. The leaf fragments swirled in ever-changing patterns and the steam took on suggestive forms. He was about to drink some when Balekara's soft but incisive voice cut through his thoughts once more.

"What do you see in there?"

"Ah--a bird. An eagle? I don't know, it's gone now."

"Mm. Drink it up, then. It's good for you." She sipped from the cup that her hand cradled with comfortable familiarity. "I am told that you studied five years with Ivergan," she said after another sip. Radovin nodded. "One can learn a great deal in that much time. How many Songs of Healing do you know?"

"Twice ten and one, maduana."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's a goodly few. And the Songs of Renewal? Do you know all eight?"

"Oh...I thought--there were only seven?"

Balekara's eyes laughed, twinkling and crinkling in the firelight. "Quite so. Can you tell me how to prepare for the third day of the Long Night ceremony?"

Radovin concentrated hard, turning his eyes up again under half-closed lids. "When the fire has burned down to ash and embers it must be fed with juniper and the drum bathed in the smoke. Then--"

"Good, good, I think you know a thing or two. Ottavar, Have you had a chance to quiz him?"

Ottavar answered quickly, "No, hardly at all, really." He sounded apologetic.

"There hasn't been much time," Hacaben said.

"I've seen a little of what he can do," Ottavar said. He paused, looking at his hands with a pensive frown.

Balekara waited. The hiss of hot stone meeting water filled the moment's silence. Radovin glanced at the hearth. Vilanaya had finished her other task, and was readying a fresh pot of tea. She smiled at him, and he looked away.

"Maduana," Ottavar began hesitantly, "what is being said about yesterday...."

"Is the usual patuka. I know you are no sorcerer, and I don't believe this young man is either. Nor can either of you command the powers of the sky, I would think." She smiled at Ottavar's headshake. "What bothers me is that Ivergan kept an apprentice hidden from us for so long."

"It bothers me that he could," Cademura of the Red Deer band observed.

"Yes. Well, he had us all rather snow-blind, ah?" Balekara made a wry grimace. "Radovin, were you given any sign when you might be initiated? He must have known that you are ready."

"No, maduana, I was always told that I was not good enough. He did say something about my being 'of some use' soon." Ready? Was she putting him on? Her tone was very sincere. Ottavar had said much the same. Initiation--the thought sent a thrill up his backbone.

"What ceremonies have you taken part in?"

"Didn't, really...just getting things ready, brewing tea an' all. I gathered herbs," he offered, looking up again hopefully. "For healing, mostly. I was allowed to do that, as long as I didn't call on spirits." Radovin frowned, recalling the amulet that he had always worn, now lying in the grass somewhere far to the northeast of here. If he wasn't truly cursed with ill luck, that had been a useless prop. Unless it had some other purpose. It had reinforced his belief, at any rate.

"What about solitary rites? Have you gone into the Spirit World at all? Do you know the ways of shadow-tracking, and how to call to the spirits of animals?"

"Yes'm. I can do that." He glanced toward Ottavar, wondering how much he should say. His new master looked thoughtful, but definitely not disapproving.

"Did Ivergan ever say anything about gaining power by taking it from another?"

Radovin jerked his head back, startled. "No." He sucked at his lip a moment. Interesting question. He heard Ottavar make a choking sound and looked that way. Ottavar gulped down the rest of his tea. Well...dry throat, maybe. Hacaben was giving both of them funny looks. He returned his attention to Balekara.

"Do you know of such things?" Balekara's gaze remained fixed on Radovin.

"Only from stories." What was she hunting on that trail? He heard voices outside then, several people calling out greetings and laughing.

Balekara looked up. "It sounds like the rest of the Circle are here. You are excused for the night, Vilanaya. Just close the flap after everyone's in, thank you."

The fledgling shaman rose and hastened toward the doorway to welcome the newcomers. Radovin tore his wandering eyes away from her hindquarters. Vahé , how one's thoughts could be sidetracked. He didn't think that was what Ottavar meant by getting to know the other apprentices. The shamans entered, one by one, and temptation departed, closing the flap behind her. Radovin stood, at Balekara's request, to be introduced.

Among them was Halezi, of the Bison band, older than any of the others by all accounts, but dark-haired and slender as a spear. She cocked her head and studied Radovin deeply with those flint-sharp eyes that had only touched the surface earlier. "Your mother was Solera, ah?"

"Yes, maduana."

"We are related, then. Your mother's father was my cousin. How the seasons do turn." She shook her head with an amused air.

"I dare say if we count back far enough we are all related," Balekara put in. "But we're not here to discuss our ancestors--at least not most of them. Sit down, please, my friends. Radovin, will you serve the tea, please?"

"Yes, maduana." He was happy to oblige. Useful, ordinary tasks kept one's mind off other things--being scrutinized by the entire White Circle, for one. Despite his earlier boast, he did find it intimidating. All of the most powerful shamans in the world in one tent! The air felt alive; if he breathed too deeply he might fly up through the smokehole.

When he had distributed filled teacups, fetched an armload of sticks for the fire, and resumed his seat, Balekara reopened the discussion.

"You all know why we are met tonight," she began. "I have already questioned Radovin, and I am satisfied that he is of good intent and well schooled. You may see for yourselves later on if he is as truthful as he claims to be. As for the accusations against Ottavar, in my opinion they are hardly worth considering. Kayotar was no sorcerer, we all know that, and Ottavar follows in his footsteps.

"However, I do have a few questions about yesterday's events. Some of the tales I've heard were certainly exaggerated. I was inside yesterday, I didn't see most of what happened. I know that you did, Damagi. Tell us now so that we all hear the same words."

The Lion band shaman, a strong-looking woman of middle age, nodded. "It was very strange. I wasn't close, but I had a good view. The blood dripping from Ivergan's hands--that was almost enough to drive out all other thought. Very effective. I seemed to see a shadow, just before that, as if someone else stood between them. Ivergan saw something too, and more clearly--it frightened him as much as the blood. He was backing away. Then I could see nothing for the flash of light, and the thunder shook my wits. Ottavar, when you made the Seeing--" she stopped in mid-sentence as Ottavar shook his head and held up his hands.

"I did nothing," he protested. "I didn't even see any of it, only heard a little, later on, of what others saw. And what Rado told me. We haven't had time to talk. He made the Seeing, but there was some other Power at work that neither of us can put a name to. Did any of you see what else Ivergan saw?"

"You didn't even see any of it?" Damagi asked incredulously. "It was all your doing?" She stared at Radovin.

"Yes--no, maduana, I only made the Seeing. I don't know any more." Radovin spread his empty hands. "I never meant to do anything, I was given the drum and--I wasn't all in this world any more, I think...." They were all staring at him now. His mouth went dry, and he looked from one set of staring eyes to another with a panicky feeling creeping up his neck. "I mean, before that, I--I--"

Ottavar interrupted Radovin's stumbling apology. "It's all right, Rado," he said. "Please, may I try to explain?"

"I wish someone would," Odazhan grumbled. "The boy's not making any sense."

"Keep your beard out of the fire, Odo," Hacaben said. "Our young friend Radovin has been through some bad times lately. You haven't heard the half of it."

Radovin was trembling slightly. What he had felt just before that lightning strike stirred his neck-hairs, and the audacity of his unplanned flight still bothered him. He folded his arms close against his body to forestall shivers. Balekara gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. He nearly jumped a finger-width off the cushion. She left her hand resting lightly on his shoulder for a few moments, and he felt calmer. He looked up; she smiled.

The shamans listened attentively while Ottavar related what he knew of the events of the previous day. Then he gave a short account of Radovin's forced servitude; the extended vow that Ivergan had demanded from the young orphan, and the breaking of that oath that had left Radovin believing he was as good as dead.

"He made him swear before he would take him?" Odazhan frowned at Ottavar.

"That is what he told me."

Odazhan turned to Radovin. "This is true?"

"Yes, o-denu."

"You were alone, when you asked him to take you?"

"Yes. I was alone. But...I didn't ask him, he asked me."

"He asked you." Odazhan pursed his lips and frowned.

Radovin felt Balekara's hand on his shoulder. This time he didn't jump. Her smiling eyes still looked well past his skin. He gave a little shrug. The fire was burning low again, so he picked up the poker, a cut-down reindeer antler. He fingered the smooth surface and turned it around a few times while contemplating the embers.

"Radovin, was there no one to stand with you when you gave the oath?" Halezi asked.

"No, maduana. I had no one." He jabbed the fire with the poker, pushing unburnt ends in, and fed it another few sticks with his other hand.

"But that is terrible, there should have been someone to counsel and support you. You were too young to stand alone. And that perverted oath--what was he thinking?"

"Exactly what I have been wondering," Ottavar said.

"Had anyone known...." Balekara shook her head.

"But no one bothered to look beneath the surface," Hacaben said. "We're all to blame. We all know how Ivergan was with the apprentices. He could talk a good line about maintaining tradition, keeping our customs pure, teaching discipline. Nothing wrong with that, ah? But his way of teaching--Vahé! A few have studied with him for a while just to round out their training, but I don't know of one that would have stayed a day longer than they had to."

"That's true enough," Halezi said. "Tayrolin almost gave up his calling after spending a winter with the Bull band. I wouldn't let him off, though." She nodded her head once, with smug satisfaction. Hacaben chuckled.

Cademura spoke in disgust. "Pah! He had to be sweet-talked into taking on a boy at all, and he refused to train a girl. Maybe a good thing."

Everyone had something to say now. Radovin listened with mixed feelings to the shredding of his tormentor's reputation. He watched the flames dance and leap until Balekara seized a small gap in the stream of talk.

"I think we have heard enough about Ivergan's bad habits. We respected the man well enough--while he was alive--for his great knowledge. That, at least, no one can deny.

"What we need now is to confirm Radovin's testimony. It's getting late, and we might want to sleep a little before tomorrow." There were a few wry snorts.

"Radovin, you have used zhamouta before to ease your entry into the Spirit World?" She leaned forward to look into his face.

"Yes'm."

"Are you afraid to do it, here, with us? No one will force you to. Fear is a dangerous thing to carry with you into the Spirit World. But if you are willing, the truth may be revealed more easily because of your connection with the matter. At the same time, it may be a test of your ability and your integrity."

"No, I'll do it."

"You're sure?" Her eyes put the question directly to his.

"Yes, maduana." He nodded firmly.

Balekara nodded, satisfied. "Very well. Ottavar, you will accompany him, of course."

Ottavar looked relieved, and Radovin's mood lightened. He silently thanked the Good Ones; Ottavar was the main landmark in the rapidly changing landscape of his life. Balekara had indeed seen into his spirit.

"Who will go with them?" She swept her gaze over the assembly. "I would, but I am taking medicine that does not like zhamouta."

Hacaben raised his voice and a hand. "I'll come along this time, Kara."

"You'll prepare the zhamouta, Hacaben?"

"Of course. Who else would I trust to do it?" The seemingly conceited remark brought laughter.

Three others volunteered for the journey: Brenjezac of the Fox band, who had given the most skeptical looks so far; Odazhan, the Grouse band's sober head shaman; and Damagi. Halezi, Cademura, and Morazhen would watch and drum.

Balekara was content with the arrangements. "Good. Now, Radovin, you stay by me. Ottavar, will you tend the fire, please? I wish to have a few more words with your young friend. Thank you."

Ottavar got up and squatted by the hearth to poke at the fire. It brought him close enough to overhear. Perhaps that was part of her intention, to let him in on any talk she had with his apprentice. Radovin liked that.

Balekara bent toward Radovin. "Let me see your hands, ah?"

"Yes'm." He held up his hands.

She took Radovin's left hand and held it palm up. "This is the line of the heart. It tells me that you are a very healthy young man, and that you have very strong feelings. This is so, ah? Now this line is the river of thought. See how it forks here...." Her fingertip traced the marks as she spoke.

While they waited for Hacaben to prepare the herb and mushroom concoction that would facilitate passage into the Spirit World, Radovin learned what hands could say about a person. He was beginning to like Balekara very much.