suffered great losses, of our houses, our lands, our businesses and, above any of these, the loss of those we love. The elders too are not immune from this, as you well know. Hatred will not heal our country or our minds. When I consider it, the very fact the elders have returned to Gathandria for an accounting of their crimes is a mark of courage none of us expected to witness. I cannot myself tell whether I would have had the courage to return so quickly though I hope my mind would have guided me. I hope I would have left my pride behind.
“So we must work together to heal our city and the neighbouring countries who look to us for their safety. Today, I have no city-wide speech to give you for all the people to hear. I thought I did but I think I have sense enough to change my mind; that approach does not fit the season. But to you few Gathandrians whose passion and spirit have brought you to this place of confrontation, I say these words: you have showed how much your life and your land mean to you by fighting. And our elders have showed us how much those same things mean to them by returning. We are not so very different from each other. So speak together. Accuse them if you wish, though not with physical and mental violence, and listen. Then take the words and thoughts you have heard and travel through our ruined streets and squares with them. Talk about them to those you meet and let what good we learn today spread through Gathandria as swiftly and surely as the wind. Then when you have had and heard your fill of reasons and words, let us decide together how we will make this city of ours, and the countries which surround us, beautiful and harmonious again. Remember the peace which fills the name of our city and let us walk in such peace together. For all our sakes.”
A silence followed Annyeke’s words. She found herself breathing heavily and clenching her fists. She hadn’t meant to say so much but the flow of it had taken her over and she had accepted it. Someone touched her shoulder and when she turned she saw it was the Chair Maker. He nodded at her, all hint of the strange darkness gone. Perhaps, she thought, it was a gifting he used only when the need was there. Still, she couldn’t help but be glad such a gift was not hers. It would surely be beyond her ability to control. After another heartbeat, the Chair Maker walked the short distance across to where the ragtaggle group of men were standing.
One of the Gathandrians took a step forward. He was frowning. Annyeke knew at once that here was the ringleader of the feud, and longed to read his mind but such an act now would be worse than intrusive. She had no wish to restart the squabble. The Chair Maker came to a halt in front of the Gathandrian. He spread his arms there in the falling snow.
“Please,” he said. “The First Elder is right. Forgive us for what we have done and failed to do. We will serve Gathandria’s people in any way we are able to, perform any task they command us to, under the First Elder’s jurisdiction. But, for forgiveness to happen and the way ahead to be clear, we must carve out a bridge of words both of us can walk across. Let us begin together and let us begin now. For the sake of the gods and stars themselves, and for the sake of Gathandria’s name.”
With that, the Chair Maker turned his arms so his palms faced his would-be opponent. He made no attempt to touch the man, and Annyeke was glad to see it; with touch, the mind of another could be more easily revealed, even where the willingness was absent.
For a long moment, the whole world seemed still. Then the lead Gathandrian nodded and gestured for the Chair Maker to walk with him. They set off across the parkland, the elder listening intently as his companion talked.
Slowly one by one the other city folk who had followed them to the park melded into groups with the rest of the elders. The uncertainty of grey and the acceptance of soft green flowed over their heads,
“So we must work together to heal our city and the neighbouring countries who look to us for their safety. Today, I have no city-wide speech to give you for all the people to hear. I thought I did but I think I have sense enough to change my mind; that approach does not fit the season. But to you few Gathandrians whose passion and spirit have brought you to this place of confrontation, I say these words: you have showed how much your life and your land mean to you by fighting. And our elders have showed us how much those same things mean to them by returning. We are not so very different from each other. So speak together. Accuse them if you wish, though not with physical and mental violence, and listen. Then take the words and thoughts you have heard and travel through our ruined streets and squares with them. Talk about them to those you meet and let what good we learn today spread through Gathandria as swiftly and surely as the wind. Then when you have had and heard your fill of reasons and words, let us decide together how we will make this city of ours, and the countries which surround us, beautiful and harmonious again. Remember the peace which fills the name of our city and let us walk in such peace together. For all our sakes.”
A silence followed Annyeke’s words. She found herself breathing heavily and clenching her fists. She hadn’t meant to say so much but the flow of it had taken her over and she had accepted it. Someone touched her shoulder and when she turned she saw it was the Chair Maker. He nodded at her, all hint of the strange darkness gone. Perhaps, she thought, it was a gifting he used only when the need was there. Still, she couldn’t help but be glad such a gift was not hers. It would surely be beyond her ability to control. After another heartbeat, the Chair Maker walked the short distance across to where the ragtaggle group of men were standing.
One of the Gathandrians took a step forward. He was frowning. Annyeke knew at once that here was the ringleader of the feud, and longed to read his mind but such an act now would be worse than intrusive. She had no wish to restart the squabble. The Chair Maker came to a halt in front of the Gathandrian. He spread his arms there in the falling snow.
“Please,” he said. “The First Elder is right. Forgive us for what we have done and failed to do. We will serve Gathandria’s people in any way we are able to, perform any task they command us to, under the First Elder’s jurisdiction. But, for forgiveness to happen and the way ahead to be clear, we must carve out a bridge of words both of us can walk across. Let us begin together and let us begin now. For the sake of the gods and stars themselves, and for the sake of Gathandria’s name.”
With that, the Chair Maker turned his arms so his palms faced his would-be opponent. He made no attempt to touch the man, and Annyeke was glad to see it; with touch, the mind of another could be more easily revealed, even where the willingness was absent.
For a long moment, the whole world seemed still. Then the lead Gathandrian nodded and gestured for the Chair Maker to walk with him. They set off across the parkland, the elder listening intently as his companion talked.
Slowly one by one the other city folk who had followed them to the park melded into groups with the rest of the elders. The uncertainty of grey and the acceptance of soft green flowed over their heads,
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