done.”
“Casting yourself as a great sorceress,” said Hara. “You have caused a great disruption.”
It was Latch whose eyes were hardest and most steady with hatred. “What a fool you look,” she said, her smile arching with disgust at the earrings and the lace and, of course, at Stefile.
“Is there no pity?” Cara asked. “Then you are smaller than the worms. Even the worms have pity.” She drew her sword. “Get out of my house,” she said, calm, heavy.
“Abomination!” whispered Latch, smiling. “Abomination,” they all whispered together. “Abomination,” and made signs against her, to keep away the evil things that followed her path.
“Or would you rather sit in my father’s lap!” Cara suddenly roared, and grabbed hold of the nearest, old Danlupu, and pulled her backwards by both of her frail arms towards the house. Danlupu shrieked in terror at actually being seized, and bobbed, bird-like and helpless in Cara’s grasp, and began to weep. “Where is your Kasawa magic now? Where are your mighty spells?” Cara raged, and shook her, and the old woman began to beg.
“Cara, stop, please, she is old!” Stefile begged.
“In! In, and sit among the worms!” Cara held the old woman above the ground and her legs pumped in the air.
“Cara, please!” shouted Stefile.
Cara threw the old woman to the stone floor of the yard, and sat on her, and pressed a sword onto her throat. “What are you to the Galu?” she demanded.
“I don’t know what you mean!” the old woman wailed.
“Their full name means the Secret Rose, they become the Secret Rose, and Wensenara, your name means the same thing. What are you to the Galu?”
“I know nothing about the Galu!” the woman wept, wretched.
“When we came to offer help!” Hara’s voice shook with indignation.
“Brave warrior to strike at an old women!” hissed Latch.
“Hah!” cried Cara, and slapped her stingingly with the flat of her sword, and Latch shrieked and clutched her side, convinced she had been cut. Her sister gathered her in her arms and pulled her away.
“Out! Out! Out!” Cara raved and hauled the old woman to her feet and flung her after her friends, who were running now, down the steps, sobbing with fear.
Silence. The sound of wind up the valley and the distant sound of weeping. Very suddenly, Cara sat down on the stone.
“Cara?” whispered Stefile. “Cara, Cara, Dear One. We can only leave. Come on.” She tried to pull, but Cara was unmovable, and staring.
The wind in the reeds by the river made sounds like a sleeping child. All along the valley were lights in windows, as dim as fireflies, except around Cara’s house and the houses of her people, which were dark. There was no moon, only stars, but they were bright enough to show the river, winding as it always had, and to cast a line of silver along the top of the opposite cliffs, as large and familiar as the memories of her father. From somewhere, far away, someone began to sing in a high, unsteady voice.
Tears spilled suddenly out of Cara’s eyes. She had to gasp to get her breath back, and she stood up abruptly and strode to the corner of the yard, to the stables that still smelled of animals, and pressed her face into the corner, caressing the stone with her forehead, and she wept, helplessly.
“Oh, Cara,” said Stefile, and tried to comfort her, taking her arm, but the arm was as beyond comforting as the stone. “Cara, don’t weep. Weeping never does any good. It is bad to weep.”
Cara simply turned to her, eyes bulging and wet, and screamed. What else was there to do but weep? She tore the earrings from her ears, and the lace from her shoulders.
“Oh Cara,” whispered Stefile, and softly held her. “Peace.” Cara writhed in her arms, to fight off easy comfort, then succumbed to the pain and implacable reality, and rested against Stefile. They stood together a long time, in silence, as darkness progressed.
Finally Cara was able to speak.
“Casting yourself as a great sorceress,” said Hara. “You have caused a great disruption.”
It was Latch whose eyes were hardest and most steady with hatred. “What a fool you look,” she said, her smile arching with disgust at the earrings and the lace and, of course, at Stefile.
“Is there no pity?” Cara asked. “Then you are smaller than the worms. Even the worms have pity.” She drew her sword. “Get out of my house,” she said, calm, heavy.
“Abomination!” whispered Latch, smiling. “Abomination,” they all whispered together. “Abomination,” and made signs against her, to keep away the evil things that followed her path.
“Or would you rather sit in my father’s lap!” Cara suddenly roared, and grabbed hold of the nearest, old Danlupu, and pulled her backwards by both of her frail arms towards the house. Danlupu shrieked in terror at actually being seized, and bobbed, bird-like and helpless in Cara’s grasp, and began to weep. “Where is your Kasawa magic now? Where are your mighty spells?” Cara raged, and shook her, and the old woman began to beg.
“Cara, stop, please, she is old!” Stefile begged.
“In! In, and sit among the worms!” Cara held the old woman above the ground and her legs pumped in the air.
“Cara, please!” shouted Stefile.
Cara threw the old woman to the stone floor of the yard, and sat on her, and pressed a sword onto her throat. “What are you to the Galu?” she demanded.
“I don’t know what you mean!” the old woman wailed.
“Their full name means the Secret Rose, they become the Secret Rose, and Wensenara, your name means the same thing. What are you to the Galu?”
“I know nothing about the Galu!” the woman wept, wretched.
“When we came to offer help!” Hara’s voice shook with indignation.
“Brave warrior to strike at an old women!” hissed Latch.
“Hah!” cried Cara, and slapped her stingingly with the flat of her sword, and Latch shrieked and clutched her side, convinced she had been cut. Her sister gathered her in her arms and pulled her away.
“Out! Out! Out!” Cara raved and hauled the old woman to her feet and flung her after her friends, who were running now, down the steps, sobbing with fear.
Silence. The sound of wind up the valley and the distant sound of weeping. Very suddenly, Cara sat down on the stone.
“Cara?” whispered Stefile. “Cara, Cara, Dear One. We can only leave. Come on.” She tried to pull, but Cara was unmovable, and staring.
The wind in the reeds by the river made sounds like a sleeping child. All along the valley were lights in windows, as dim as fireflies, except around Cara’s house and the houses of her people, which were dark. There was no moon, only stars, but they were bright enough to show the river, winding as it always had, and to cast a line of silver along the top of the opposite cliffs, as large and familiar as the memories of her father. From somewhere, far away, someone began to sing in a high, unsteady voice.
Tears spilled suddenly out of Cara’s eyes. She had to gasp to get her breath back, and she stood up abruptly and strode to the corner of the yard, to the stables that still smelled of animals, and pressed her face into the corner, caressing the stone with her forehead, and she wept, helplessly.
“Oh, Cara,” said Stefile, and tried to comfort her, taking her arm, but the arm was as beyond comforting as the stone. “Cara, don’t weep. Weeping never does any good. It is bad to weep.”
Cara simply turned to her, eyes bulging and wet, and screamed. What else was there to do but weep? She tore the earrings from her ears, and the lace from her shoulders.
“Oh Cara,” whispered Stefile, and softly held her. “Peace.” Cara writhed in her arms, to fight off easy comfort, then succumbed to the pain and implacable reality, and rested against Stefile. They stood together a long time, in silence, as darkness progressed.
Finally Cara was able to speak.
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