Until the Celebration (21 page)

“At first when I joined the Nekom, I was only a secret member. I was told to go on working at the lapan-house where I had been so that I might feed and shelter the members when there was need of it. And so I did.

“But one night, at the lapan-house, Axon Befal spoke of something that frightened me and almost made me wish I was not a Nekom. He spoke of how he had tried to attack Raamo ...

Dergg’s voice broke, and for a while he struggled to regain his composure. When he went on, there were tears on his cheeks and his voice trembled. “But Raamo got away; and I was glad, because I saw him once, and when I saw him, I knew that he was good. But later that night Axon Befal sent me away because he was going to speak to some of the Nekom about a great new plan. And when he had told them, there was an argument with much shouting, because some of the Nekom did not like the plan. I heard Axon Befal shout that if they would not help him, he would do the plan alone.

“Then I did not see Axon Befal for some days; and when I saw him again, he came to the lapan-house all alone. He spoke to me with great kindness and listened to me talk, and then he asked me to come with him to the forest and be a real Nekom, not just a secret one. So I went with Axon Befal into the forest.

“But when we got to Axon Befal’s city, I was surprised because it was not a large city, and many of the nid-places seemed to be empty. It was after that that Axon Befal told me what had happened—how his great plan had been to steal the holy children and take them away into the forest so that the Council would be forced to listen to him and do what he said. But some of the Nekom did not like the plan. That was why there had been shouting, and Axon Befal had said that he would do it alone.

“But he did not do it. Axon told me many times that he did not do it. Because when he was almost ready, he heard that someone else had already stolen the children.

“But on that very day—the day that the children were taken—Axon had gone out alone into the forest to look for a place to hide the children. So all that day no one had seen him, and when the Nekom heard that the children were gone, some of them would not believe that it had not been Axon who took them. So some of them were angry, and they went away from Axon’s city and took most of the wands-of-Befal away with them. And the city was almost empty.

“On that night, the night that I came to the city, Axon talked to me for many many hours. We drank many tankards of pan-mead together. And he told me over and over again about his great plans, and about how evil and treacherous it had been of the Nekom to go away and take his wands-of-Befal. I was honored that the Great Leader would speak so long to me alone and share his thoughts with me. And I swore to him, before the morning came, that I would not desert him and that I would follow his orders no matter what he might ask.

“So by the next day Axon Befal had made a new plan; he would send a message to the people of Orbora saying that he had taken the holy children, even though he had not. Because they were gone and the people of Orbora would not know that he had not taken them. Before they found out that he had not, he would be in the temple, and all the power and glory would be his, and mine also, because I had been brave and loyal. So I carried the message for him to the newsinger, and we waited to hear that the Council had sworn to serve him and had obeyed his orders.

“But nothing happened except that the rest of the Nekom went away from the forest city, and we were left alone. Then searchers began to come into the forest, and we had to leave the city. So I went back to work in the lapan-house, and I hid Axon Befal in the back of the pantry behind some bales of lapan fur. He stayed behind the bales during the day, but at night when the light was dim, he disguised his face with a false beard and came out into the hall of food-taking to talk with the people who had come to eat lapan.

“Last night Axon Befal heard that the Joined Council was going all the way to Erda and the cavern of the Bottomless Lake. And he made a new plan. His plan was that I should follow the procession, and that I should—”

Once more the boy was overcome by sobs. Tears ran down his cheeks, and his blunt, unformed features twisted into a grotesque mask of grief, but he did not turn away or hide his face.

When he was able to go on he said, “His plan was that I should creep up behind Raamo—and that I should strike him with a sharpened tool—so that he would die. Axon Befal said that if I did it carefully so I was not seen, the Kindar Councilors would blame the Erdlings, and the Council would destroy itself. Then there would be much fear and confusion, so that people would turn to Axon Befal as a great strong leader who would help them and take away their fear.

“I did not want to do it, and I asked if it could be some other besides Raamo. But Axon said no, because no one else was important enough, and besides, if Raamo lived, he would turn the people against us. So he made me swear a great oath. He said it was an ancient oath of great power, and if I broke it, I would die. I swore the oath, and I went out to wait for the procession.

“When I saw him, I could not strike him. But I was afraid not to because of the oath. So I followed, not knowing what I would do, or not do. Then in the cavern when I saw what happened, I knew. I knew that Axon Befal had told me to do an evil, evil thing, and I knew that I was evil for thinking that I would do it.”

The boy had begun to sob again, and his voice came in choked painful gasps. “If I die of the oath, I will be glad. I only wish that I had thrown myself into the chasm— with Raamo—instead of only the evil tool.”

T
HE ENORMOUS AMPHITHEATER WAS
full to overflowing. The rising ranks of benches were packed with people, and in the semi-circle before the central stage, a dense sea of humanity covered the forest floor.

It was the day that was to have seen the Celebration of the Rejoyning. A full year had passed since the holy children had taken the tool-of-violence from D’ol Regle by means of the power of uniforce, and the Geets-kel had renounced D’ol Regle and embraced the cause of the Rejoyners. But there was to be no celebration.

The people had come together to mourn the loss of the holy children. And to mourn also for Raamo, who only six days before had taken the tool-of-violence into the dark waters of the Bottomless Lake.

For six days the people of Green-sky had been in mourning. The Erdlings, long familiar with suffering and loss, had learned a new and purer grief, and the Kindar had found tears, which had been denied them for generations. For six days they had shared the age-old torments of loss—the tragedy of what might have been, the torture of if only, and the sad mystery of why. And on the morning of the day that was to have held the Celebration, they came quietly to the amphitheater to share in a ceremony of mourning.

Above the crowd, high on the central stage, D’ol Falla waited and watched the gathering of the great multitude. She had been asked to speak to the people, and her speaking would be the beginning of the ceremony. But she did not know what she would say. There was no Kindar ritual for grief or sorrow, and she did not know the Erdling ceremonies.

There were many sad things that could be spoken of. She could speak of Hearba and Valdo, the parents of Raamo and of Pomma, who were now childless and ill of grieving. She could speak of her own sorrow and of her fear that all hope had been lost with Raamo. But when the time came for the ceremony to begin, and Hiro led her forward to the front of the great platform, she still had not decided what it was that she would say.

At the platform’s edge she stopped and looked out over the great multitude and up at the small hanging stages where newsingers waited to relay her words so that they would reach the farthest fringes of the crowd. And words came into her mind as if through a far distant pensing.

“Let us rejoice,” she said.

She saw and felt the shocked astonishment beginning all around her and spreading outward as the newsingers repeated her words again and again like receding echoes.

“There has been much to mourn for,” she went on, “and we have mourned. I, too, have sorrowed—and blindly—so it was only now, only this moment, that I saw what lies before our eyes. Look! Look around you. You have come together, a vast multitude, without fear and suspicion, and you have comforted each other with touching and with the sharing of tears. Truly, we are rejoyned, and we have done it alone—with only the power that lies among us.”

She paused, and the people looked at each other, some in bewilderment and some in dawning recognition.

D’ol Falla would have spoken further, but at that moment the crowd’s attention was distracted by a gliding figure who, swooping down steeply from far above, was circling directly over the amphitheater, as if looking for an opening in which to land. Heads were shaken and there were mutterings of disapproval. It was inexcusable that a latecomer should choose to arrive at such a ceremony in so distracting a manner.

Then the gliding figure banked sharply and dropped suddenly to a landing on the hanging platform of a newsinger, sending the platform into such wild gyrations that the newsinger was almost pitched off into the crowd below. Indignant gasps and even angry shouts came from all over the amphitheater. But then it became obvious that the newcomer, a Kindar woman, was speaking to the newsinger in a highly agitated manner. It was suddenly apparent that the intruder’s rude arrival was due not to thoughtlessness, but to the urgency of the message she had come to bring.

Finally, the newsinger turned and, lifting his hands high above his head in a gesture of rejoicing, he shouted, “The children are found. The holy children are safe and well. The children have returned.”

The other newsingers took up the cry and spread it to the farthest edges of the crowd, and for several minutes here was a great joyous confusion. All over the amphitheater there were shouts and cries, tears and laughter, and on the great stage all the members of the Joined Council crowded around Teera’s parents, Kanna and Herd, to share in their happiness.

When the confusion had, at last, died away, it was seen that the woman messenger had been summoned to the stage and was being questioned by the Chief Mediator.

And then, in turn, Hiro spoke to the multitude and told them what he had learned.

“This woman is Ciela D’ote,” he said. “Serving woman to the D’ok family in the Vine Palace. She stayed today in the palace to care for the parents of Raamo and Pomma, who were still too ill from grief to attend the ceremony. Around the tenth hour, after all the others who dwelt in the palace had departed, a group of children appeared at he gates, and with them were the lost ones, Pomma D’ok and Teera Eld. And so Ciela was sent here to tell us that Valdo and Hearba are coming to the amphitheater by way of branchpath and stairway and will bring the children with them.”

Amid cheers and cries of Joy, Kanna and Herd came down from the high stage and set out to meet their daughter. But the Chief Mediator asked that all others remain in their places; and so they waited quietly except for a high-pitched hum of whispered anticipation. Many questions remained to be answered, but when Hiro questioned Ciela further, he found that she knew little more than she had already revealed.

At last there was a stirring far to the rear of the crowd, heads began turning, and then a group of figures appeared at the far end of the center aisle: four larger figures and around them a dozen smaller ones. As they came nearer, the people could see that it was true—the holy children of the Rejoyning had been returned to them. Before the eager eyes of the multitude, they walked down the long aisle: the fragilely beautiful Kindar child, and the dark and vivid daughter of Erdlings, living symbols of the Rejoyning and of the people’s faith in Spirit-power.

They mounted the great stage, and the parents of the holy children led them forward, not only Pomma and Teera, but the others also, to the edge of the high platform, where they might be seen by all the people. They stood close together, their faces solemn, and some of the younger ones hung their heads in fright. Several of the children were clearly of Erdling parentage. They ranged in age from a girl of eleven or twelve, to two little boys who were no more than four years of age. There were no shouts or cheers now; but all over the amphitheater, the people rose, both Erdling and Kindar, and extended their arms in the gesture of welcome.

For only a minute the children stood before the multitude, and then they were led through an entry arch to the waiting and robing rooms behind the great stage. When they were gone, Herd Eld spoke briefly to the Joined Council and then came forward with Hiro D’anhk to the place of speakers.

“It has been decided that Herd Eld will speak to us of what he has learned of the disappearance of the children and how they came to be restored to us.”

So it was the father of Teera who told the story just as he had heard it from the children—of how in the days following the Rejoyning, Teera and Pomma’s lives were greatly changed, and when they had a little time in which to play their old games, they found they had forgotten much that they had taught each other. They had been saddened to find that they were no longer able to pense or image; but when they realized that they might never again be able to summon the power of uniforce, they began to be tormented by fear and guilt.

Without a true understanding of why it was so, they knew that the adulation of the people, and also in some mysterious way, the future of the Rejoyning depended on their ability to merge their Spirit-force in such a way that things of apparent solid and heavy natures would be moved and changed. They believed that sooner or later they would have to go before the people and demonstrate that ability—and they knew, now, that they would fail. So they began to feel deceitful and guilty, and after a time, the Vine Palace, which had seemed so great and glorious when they had first been taken there to live, began to seem more and more like a prison where they awaited the inevitable disclosure of their guilty secret. And then one day they heard that the time would soon come when they would be asked to go before the people, and it was soon afterwards that they asked Teera’s clan-sibling, Charn, to help them run away.