Renegades Magic by Robin Hobb
Once in the lodge, he perceived that in his absence no one had gone to bed. Instead, a hot sweet drink was simmering by the hearth beside a platter of fried dough drizzled with honey. No one asked if he was hungry or thirsty. It was their assumption. The moment he sat down by the fire, someone whisked his shoes off his feet and replaced them with dry, warm socks. A blanket, warmed by the fire, was draped around his shoulders. He realized then he was shuddering with cold and gripped it gratefully around himself. Olikea poured the warm drink into a mug and put it carefully into his hands. Her words were not as caring as her actions.
“The night before we begin to travel, I have a hundred tasks to organize and you walk off into the darkness and lose yourself. If you cannot be helpful, at least do not be a hindrance!” Her eyes were still red and swollen from her earlier weeping. Her voice was hoarse with it, but none of her pain showed in her tone. It was purely the waspishness of a woman irritated beyond her limits. No one but Olikea would have dared speak to him like that. The other feeders had grown accustomed to how bold she was with him. And he almost welcomed her anger following her weeks of lassitude.
“I’m cold,” he said, as if somehow that excused him. “And hungry. Just bring me food. ”
I do not think he intended to sound so harsh. Perhaps if he had known how close she was to breaking, he would have chosen his words differently. But spoken, there was no calling the words back. Olikea seemed to swell with her anger like an affronted cat, and then her own words burst from her in a torrent.
“You are cold? You are hungry? And what of my son, whose delight it was to serve you? Do you think he is warm right now, and comfortable and well fed? But unlike you, who make the choice to wander off into the night and chill yourself, Likari dances because he must. ”
She paused for breath. Soldier’s Boy was silent. He continued to stare straight ahead, the warm blanket around his shoulders, the hot mug in his hands. I sensed something building in him, but Olikea perhaps thought that he ignored her.
“You have forgotten him!” she suddenly shrieked. “You said you would get him back. You said you would do something, that you would destroy all of Gettys so that Kinrove would give my son back to his kin-clan. He served you as well as a boy of his years could! He spoke of you with pride—no! He spoke of you with love! And you were the one who said that the dance must start again to protect the ancestor trees. You knew it was our turn for the dancers to be wrenched from our homes and families. But you didn’t care. Because we are not really your kin-clan, are we? We are just the people who feed you and clothe you and see to all your needs. You do not care what we suffer! You do not lie awake at night and think of Likari’s poor little feet, dancing, dancing, always dancing! You do not wonder if he is cold but so enspelled that he does not know how his skin chaps and his lips split and bleed. You do not wonder if he is thin, if he coughs when he rests. You do not wonder how he is treated during his brief rest periods. ” She sank down onto her haunches and rocked herself back and forth as she continued to fling accusations at him, her hands over her eyes.
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“Now you will eat and drink and everyone will tend you and you will sleep well tonight, while the rest of us work to make ready for tomorrow’s departure. But what of Likari? Do you know what he must do? He must dance, dance, dance, all the way back to the western side of the mountains. Nor does he sleep warm and comfortable tonight to prepare for the journey. The dancers of Kinrove dance, on and on and on. Dancing themselves to death. Just as my mother did. ”
Still, Soldier’s Boy made no response. He did not move toward her or even look at her directly. Instead, he stared past her, as if looking at someone else. From the corner of his eye, I saw her look at him. Something seemed to go out of her. Anger had perhaps sustained her. But anger is a passion that is hard to maintain when the object of one’s anger is immune to it. She spoke in a low voice, bitterly. “Go on, drink. Eat. Then sleep. All will be done for you, who do nothing for us. Tomorrow we must rise and begin the journey. ”
He seemed for the moment to obey her. He lifted the mug to his mouth and drained it dry. Then, heedless of its fate, he let it fall to the floor. He ignored the food that was offered to him as one of his other feeders hastily picked up the fallen cup. Instead, he stood, letting the blanket fall to the floor. Without a word, he turned away from them all. He walked to the bed, lay down on it, and pulled the covers up over himself. He closed his eyes and was still. I was probably the only one who knew that although he retreated deeply into himself, he did not sleep.
There was a stillness to Soldier’s Boy that spoke of something dead or dying. I could not bear to consider it too deeply. Just as isolated as he was, I listened instead to the quiet bustle within the lodge. Olikea had spoken truly. Searching for him had interrupted the work of the feeders, and now they toiled into the night, making all ready for the morning’s journey. Everything that would not be taken with them was carefully cleaned and packed for the summer’s storage. Cedar shavings were tucked in among winter blankets and furs before they were packed away in cedar chests. Pots were scrubbed and hung on hooks, dishes were put away, and all food was carefully packed up for the journey. Tomorrow they would break their fasts with a simple meal before beginning the long walk back to their summer grounds. There would be no quick-walking tomorrow. Magic such as that was used only in necessity. Tomorrow all the People would begin their journeys that would converge on their hidden passage through the mountains and back to the west side of the mountains.
Within an hour, the last of the chores were done. The other feeders retired, some to their own lodges, doubtless to finish their own preparations there, and three to pallets at the end of the lodge. Olikea came, by habit I think, to Soldier’s Boy’s bed. She sat down on the edge of it and bent down to loosen her shoes. Then she stood up and dragged her woolen shift off over her head. She moved silently and wearily. When she lifted the edge of the blankets and got into the bed, she took exaggerated care that no part of her body should so much as brush against his. She faced away from me, and from her breathing, I knew she was no closer to sleep than Soldier’s Boy was. I hoped with the strength of a prayer that one of them would have the sense to touch the other. I believed that was all it would take to break down the barrier rising between them. They did not have to be in love or even to be lovers tonight. I believed that if one so much as reached out to the other, they could have found each other and recognized the other’s misery and loneliness. There would have been some comfort, I think, in that. Instead, Olikea stared unsleeping into the darkened lodge, and Soldier’s Boy, just as restive, remained perfectly still, staring into the darkness inside his own eyelids. And I, I was the trapped witness to how pain could make two people incapable of giving each other even the smallest measure of comfort. As much as I disliked Soldier’s Boy and distrusted Olikea, that night I pitied both of them. Life had not dealt fairly with any of us.
No one rose early. Everyone had worked too late the night before. But eventually the others began to stir. Olikea rose before Soldier’s Boy moved and began the final packing up while other feeders came and went, preparing food and drink for Soldier’s Boy’s breakfast and laying out his clothing for the day. I was aware of all this from behind his closed eyelids. The feeders chatted of inconsequential things, reminded one another to close the trunks tightly, and sent someone to be sure that there would be both firewood and kindling waiting by the door when they returned in the autumn. They nudged one another along, apparently eager to leave soon in the hopes of catching up with the rest of the kin-clan so that they might travel through the pass as a group. Someone said that Kinrove and his feeders, clan, and dancers had already departed ten days ago. Someone else grumbled that Kinrove and his dancers would have emptied the fish traps and eaten the best of whatever grew along the route.
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And Olikea came to wake Soldier’s Boy. “It is time t
She spoke in an absolutely neutral voice. If I had not witnessed their quarrel the night before, I would have believed that all was amicable, even affectionate, between them. The unsleeping Soldier’s Boy opened his eyes and slowly sat up in bed. As he took the cup of steaming tea from Olikea, I saw several of the feeders exchange relieved glances. The storm was over. All would be well again. He drank from the cup and then held it, idly watching the steam rise.
“We must be on our way soon,” Olikea reminded him.
“So you must,” he agreed. He looked over at Sempayli. “You should leave now. I wish you to take my horse and not wait for us. See that he gets grazing along the way, and when you reach our place on the other side of the mountains, find him a sunny area with good grass for him to eat. The winter has been hard on him. ”
“You wish me to leave right away?” The man looked puzzled.
“I do. ”
“Very well. ” Obviously, there was no quibbling with a Great Man. He rose and walked out of the lodge, pausing only to hoist his personal pack to his shoulder.
When he was out of sight, Olikea gave a small sigh. “Well. I had thought the horse could carry some of our things. But we shall manage. It is time for you to get out of your bed, so we can finish storing the bedding and be on our way. We are already late leaving. ”
He pursed his lips, the Speck signal for denial. “No. I won’t be going with you. ”
One of his feeders sighed aloud. Olikea looked at him for a moment in disbelief. Then, as if humoring a child, she said, “We will talk about it as we walk. But we must have your blankets to pack or store. ”
“I mean it,” he said mildly. There was no anger in his voice, only a terrible tiredness and resignation. “I am not going with the People. It is as you said last night. I am useless to you, only a burden. I can think of no way to save Likari. All night long I have pondered it, and still there is no answer. Kinrove maintains his magical barrier around his encampment; I cannot pass it without his consent. He wields more magic than I do; I cannot turn magic against him. I cannot even get close enough to him to try to kill him. I cannot duplicate what Dasie did; Kinrove will never be caught in such a way again. My quest to end the need for the dance failed; no, worse than failed, it made even the dance ineffective. I have failed all of you. I have failed the magic. I have failed Lisana. You would be wisest to go quickly now, leaving me here, and make haste to catch up with our kin-clan. Tell Jodoli that I commend you to his care. Follow him across the mountains to the summer grounds. ”
Olikea narrowed her eyes at him. “You sent Sempayli away first so he wouldn’t argue with you, didn’t you?” Soldier’s Boy gave her a small smile. Olikea responded with an exasperated sigh. She spoke bitterly. “Enough of this sulkiness. We cannot leave you and we should be on our way. ”
But even as she spoke, one of the feeders glanced at the others, and then quietly slipped out of the door. After a moment, a second one followed her. Soldier’s Boy glanced after them and then back at Olikea. “I’m not going. You should leave. ”
She had been holding her laden pack. Now she flung it down angrily. “And what are you going to do if I leave you here? You know I can’t do that!”
“You can and you should. Leave now. ” He spoke to the sole remaining feeder. The man seemed relieved to receive such a direct command. He nodded gravely and departed. Soldier’s Boy swung his gaze to Olikea. “You, too. Go. ”
She stood silent for a time. Her arms hung limply at her sides. Her eyes wandered over his still face, seeking entry to his thoughts. Finally she just asked him in a quiet, dull voice, “Why? Why are you doing this now? Why are you doing this to me? If I leave without you, they will say I have abandoned my Great One and shamed my kin-clan. ”
He spoke simply. “Tell them I am not a Great One. Tell them that the intruder half of me always held me back from what I should have been. All I have tried to do has ended in half failure. I stopped the Spindle of the Plainspeople, but I could not cast it down. I slowed the intrusion into the forest, but the intruder half of me told the Gernians how to get around Kinrove’s magic. Yes. That is true!” he replied to Olikea’s shocked expression. “When I lived among the intruders, I was the one who said to them, ‘Drug your senses in order to dull them and resist the fear. ’ It is my fault that they were able to begin cutting our ancestor trees again. Every other Great One I have spoken to assures me that I am supposed to be the one who can turn the intruders back. But even when I have done what the magic told me to do, it had no effect. I can only assume that something my Gernian half did canceled my magic. Even my raid on their settlement was only half a success, and my failure to drive them out has spurred them to greater hatred of us than ever. Do you see what I am telling you, Olikea? I am not a Great One who can help the People. I am flawed, like an intruder’s gun that explodes in your hands. When I seek to help the People, I do as much harm as good. It is because of my divided nature. Yet I love the People. So, to serve them, I must cast myself out from them. You must go to your summer lands. I do not know what will befall the People there, not this year or in the years to come. But I do know that my presence can only make it worse. And so I remove myself. ”
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“And what of Likari?” she burst out when he paused for breath. “What of your promise to save him? I believed you! Not once, but several times you said you would find a way to save him. What about that promise?”
He looked down and spoke reluctantly but clearly. “I must break it. Not because I want to, but because I do not know how to keep it. ”
For a long moment she was silent. Then an expression of disgust formed on her face. “Oh, yes,” she said bitterly. “Now I believe you. It is not the way of the People to break promises, but for the intruders, it is their constant custom. ” She pursed her lips and then expelled air loudly in an exaggerated expression of denial. “You are definitely not a Great One to say such a thing. You are right. You are not even of the People, and yes, I will leave you now. I will go to my kin-clan and tell them what you have said. They will think me foolish and faithless. But I will not care what they think. Because now I must go and do for myself what I so foolishly hoped and waited for you to do for me. Oh, I am a faithless and heartless mother! The very first day he was summoned, I should have run after him, rather than having faith in your magic. I myself will go to Kinrove. I do not know how I will get Likari back, but I will. I will not stop trying until Likari is free again. That is the promise I make to myself. ”
She stooped and picked up the pack she had dropped. As she walked toward the door, she was slinging it over her shoulders. By the time she reached the door she had it on and she walked away from the lodge without another backward glance. He was alone. He heard faint voices lifted in a query and a brief response from Olikea. The conversation went on, but it dwindled in the distance as they walked away from him, out of sight of Lisana’s old lodge, and out of earshot as well. He sat on the bed, his blankets muddled around him. On the hearth fire, the forgotten kettle with his breakfast in it muttered to itself beneath its tight lid. He heard a squirrel chatter outside, and then the warning cry of a jay asserting his territorial right. The birds would already be investigating the quiet lodges to see what had been left behind. It was a good indicator that no one else remained in the village.
Slowly he got out of bed. He walked to the hearth and took the simmering kettle off it. He looked inside. An overcooked stew of vegetables, squirrel meat, and a few greens was in the bottom. He found a long-handled cooking spoon and ate directly from the pot, blowing on each bite to keep from scalding himself. It was good. Despite all else, the food was very good and he let himself enjoy it, knowing that it was the last meal that someone else would prepare for him.
Belly full, he went back to his bed
He finished the squirrel stew and made tea. He drank one cup of it, then refilled his mug and carried it outside. Neither Soldier’s Boy nor I was surprised when we heard a heavy bird settle into the branches overhead. He sipped his tea and looked around at the deserted village. After a time, the big croaker bird dropped down to the ground and regarded us with shining eyes. He waddled over to inspect a discarded rag, turned and tossed it to be sure nothing edible was there, and then preened his wing pinions. When he was finished, he turned his gaze back to me. “Well?” Orandula asked. “Did you forget to migrate?”
“Leave me alone,” Soldier’s Boy warned him.
“Everyone already did that,” the bird-god pointed out. “I can’t see that it solved anything for you. ”
“What do you care?” Soldier’s Boy asked harshly.
“I care that debts to me be paid. You owe me. A life or a death. Remember?”
“You took Likari already,” Soldier’s Boy accused him.
“I took Likari? Not I. Besides, if I had taken him, then I would have ‘taken’ him. Not at all the same as you giving him to me to pay your debt. No, you still owe me. ”
“That isn’t my debt,” he said fiercely.
The croaker bird turned his head and regarded him strangely for a moment. Then he cawed out a harsh laugh. “Perhaps not. But as you are both encased in the same flesh, I do not see how that matters to me. And I wish to be paid. ”
“Then kill him and take his life as payment. Or his death, however you want to speak of it. It’s all the same to me. If he were gone, perhaps I could think clearly. ” Soldier’s Boy drank the last of his tea. “Perhaps if you killed him, I could truly be one of the People, even if I could not save them from the intruders. ”
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“Kill him and spare you?” The bird cocked his head the other way. “An intriguing idea. But not very practical. ”