Kingdoms of the Night (The Far Kingdoms) (39 page)

Janela shrugged. “Although Amalric is her favorite she has other husbands to please her,” she said. “Besides, she hopes this journey will satisfy him so he can get such silliness out of his head.”

“A wise woman, your grandmother,” Taisha said. “I, for one would be tempted to take a stick to him. But I’m not noted for my calm temperament.”

Then she motioned to me. “You first, my sweet.”

Blushing furiously and wondering what Janela had whispered, I mounted the ladder. Someone gave my rear an appreciative pinch but despite roars of laughter from the other women in the canoe, I managed to climb with some dignity intact.

Once at the top we were told to wait while Taisha saw that Shofyan was cared for, then sought an audience with the Queen.

I took the opportunity to question to Janela as to what had been said.

Janela chortled. “I was only protecting you from lustful advances,” she said. “These women seem a randy lot.”

I blushed again remembering the pinch. “So I gather,” I said dryly.

“I don’t know what sort of traditions they practice,” she continued, “but it’s easy to guess that here things are reversed and men are considered the weaker sex, so hot tempered they are not permitted to stay in the village.”

I made note of the many children running about. “But not completely banned,” I said. “Else where did the children come from.”

Janela grinned. “Oh, they’ll let them visit irregularly, I suppose,” she said. “Fertility festivals or such. And unless you want to be the object of an impromptu celebration I’d suggest you go along with what I told Taisha.

“Which was?” I gritted out.

“That you believed you had been blessed with a visit by our goddess and had taken a vow of celibacy at her behest,” Janela said. “Furthermore, that your patient wife, my grandmother, allowed you to join in this voyage with me, hoping that you’d return cured of your male foolishness.’

I was shocked. “They must think I’m crazy!” I hissed.

Janela nodded. “Most probably.”

I started to object, then noticed several of the warrior women leering at me, whispering amongst themselves and making suggestive gestures.

I sighed. Odd how... nasty... one felt when put to the same stresses as women undergo in Orissa. “Then mad I shall be,” I said.

A tall woman strode out of the yawning doorway of the thatched palace.

“Queen Badryia bids you welcome,” she said to Janela. “You and your companion are to be honored with an audience.”

Janela bowed her thanks, as did I.

“Come,” the woman said, beckoning.

The interior was dim, lit by ropes of some sort of shell that glowed like firebeads, as well as by the central fire pit where a large earth pot bubbled and filled the air with rich smells. The circular chamber seemed empty of furniture — but over the heads of the curious women crowding around us I could see stools and grass mattresses dangling from rafters that snaked off into the gloom, as well as weapons and fishing implements. Against the walls were cane trunks I supposed held the belongings of those who lived here with the Queen. Despite the gloom it seemed a happy place with women speculating freely about our presence and children running all around, shrieking in glee.

About fifty feet beyond the fire netting draped down in a wide arch. Glowing shells dangled from that netting, making a glistening bower for the woman who waited.

Queen Badryia lifted her regal head as we approached. She was sprawled on an immense, fur-covered couch. Even lying down she was one of the most imposing monarchs I have ever met. She was tall — tall as Rali’s giantess friend, Polillo — which was easily seven feet. She was dark like the other women perhaps in her late 50’s, with a shield-shaped face like Shofyan and Taisha. She had the kind of beauty that defies age, with high cheekbones and a noble brow.

As we came close and she sat up, her blue and green robe fell away, exposing large, supple breasts as firm as a maid’s. Her hair was piled high into a crown and fixed in it were all sorts of dazzling gems and rare metals, as well as a few of the glowing shells. She had fan-shaped earrings that dangled nearly to her shoulders and seemed to be made of colorful feathers and bits of jewels. A dozen bracelets graced each arm and thick ropes of what seemed like pearls decorated her neck.

We bowed low and I heard her jewelry clatter as the Queen leaned forward to get a better look at the ones who had been so bold as to intrude upon her watery kingdom.

We said nothing. In such circumstances, royalty always speaks first.

I heard whispers and chanced a look to see Taisha perched next to her mother and whispering in her ear. I thought I heard Janela’s name passed on. When Taisha was done the Queen nodded.

Then she said: “I understand I owe you thanks for keeping my grand-daughter from fattening up a serpent.”

I started to answer but remembered my role as lowly male advisor.

“You are most gracious, Your Majesty,” Janela said. “But we don’t deserve thanks for doing what is any mortal’s duty when she sees a child in danger.”

And I thought: Good woman!

The Queen laughed, rich and deep. Then her tones turned colder as she said: “It is fortunate for you, Lady Greycloak, that little Shofyan was naughty today. Else you might not be treated so gently by
this
Queen!”

Janela answered: “Fortunate indeed, Your Majesty. The goddess smiled on us all this day. On the child for encountering friends when she most needed them. And on us for discovering the same.”

I thought: Well said!

Queen Badryia must have thought the same for she rewarded us with another rich chuckle.

“Your mother taught you well, little sister,” the Queen said. “Now, tell me, and answer me honestly if you value my continued good nature.”

“I’ll do my best, Your Majesty,” Janela said.

The Queen leaned closer, jewelry rattling . “Are you a witch?”

“Yes,” Janela said. “I have been blessed with such powers.”

Badryia nodded in satisfaction. “I thought so.”

She turned to Taisha. “Didn’t I say, earlier... before Shofyan turned up missing... that I sensed sorcery about?”

“You did indeed, Your Majesty,” her daughter said.

The Queen turned back. “I have a little talent of my own,” she said. “Enough to keep a few nasty things about at that end of the lake.” She was obviously referring to the slug-things and the demon. Badryia sniffed. “Sorry if they inconvenienced you, my dear,” she said. “But we lake dwellers try to discourage surprise visits as best we can.”

“And fearful things they were,” Janela said. The Queen smiled hugely, pleased at the flattery. “It was only by chance that I sensed the Demon Of The Lake you have posted there.” Janela shuddered, whether for real or as part of the flattery I wasn’t certain. “What gave her away was her hunger. It was so great it set my own belly to growling, even though I was in fear of my life... and the lives of my companions. Then, once I suspected her presence I tried to turn that hunger on our attackers instead of us.”

I listened as closely as the others, for I had wondered as well how Janela had pulled off her life-saving trick.

Another deep laugh from the Queen. “Poor Salamsi,” she said, obviously meaning the demon. “It was well past her regular feeding but I’ve been so busy I hadn’t time to tend to it.”

“I hope she wasn’t injured,” Janela said.

The Queen shrugged. “By those little nasties? Not hardly. Rest assured, only her dignity was harmed for being fooled. But if I were you I’d not pass by her watery lair again if you return that way.”

We accepted her advice in silence, for the Queen’s expression had turned thoughtful. While she considered she called for stools so we could make ourselves comfortable and food and drink so we could break our fast. We nibbled on delicacies such as fresh shellfish with a dollop of hot spice on each and sipped a light wine that had the tangy taste of a morning breeze and made one feel alert and at ease with the company.

Finally the Queen broke off her thinking and addressed her concerns. “You haven’t said what you are doing here,” the Queen pointed out.

“We are on a holy mission,” Janela said. “We live in a land far to the west. And we have suffered many evils of late.”

The Queen made a gesture with her hand. “You mean, plagues and demons and such?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Janela said. “Plagues and demons and such. Things became so critical that at last our witches gathered in a great council. And that council prayed to our goddess, who graced us with her presence in a vision.”

Janela hesitated a moment, no doubt inventing a few more palatable twists in her highly-altered account of the doings in Orissa. But the Queen had been swept up by the drama of her tale and she motioned to her most impatiently.

“Yes, yes,” Badryia said. “The vision. Do go on.”

“Well,” Janela said, “the goddess appeared and she told the witches that the answer to our troubles was in an a distant land — far to the east. A kingdom where the Old Ones still reign.”

“You mean, Tyrenia,” the Queen said.

“Tyrenia?” I blurted, forgetting myself. “Would that perchance be the realm we call ‘The Kingdoms of the Night?’”

Shocked silence greeted my indiscretion. The queen studied me for a long moment. Then she turned to Taisha. “You are right,” she said. “He
is
a pretty thing. Although I like my meat a little younger.”

Then she said to me: “I understand you’ve taken a vow of celibacy, my sweet.”

I nodded, bobbing my head like a fool so I could fit easily back into my role as a pampered, slightly mad plaything of a rich and powerful woman.

“Yes I have, Your Majesty,” I said. “My wife nearly took a switch to me after I made the vow. But when I told her the goddess bade it — and said I had to go find the place of the Old Ones along with Janela — she only slapped me a little, then commanded Janela to take me with her so I could get over my silliness.” Then I suddenly made myself haughty. “Silliness, indeed,” I said in a deeply injured tone. “Our great goddess came to me and said that I — Amalric Antero of Orissa — must seek that realm in my purest state and that I was to let no man or demon or woman stand in my way.”

The Queen laughed, slapping her thigh. “He has spirit!” she said to Janela. “I like a little spirit to spice up my bed. Pity’s he’s mad.”

Janela’s finger made a circular motion about her temple. “My grandmother said the same the thing, Your Majesty.”

“You should adopt our practice,” the Queen said. “We send our males away as soon as they show the first signs of leaving childhood behind. They must dwell on the islands, making their way as best they can until we allow them to visit us on the lake during certain times when it is known that we are fertile. It’s a difficult life for them, to be sure. But they do well enough, even if we do lose a few now and then. We keep them sweet with little gifts and we have a few other festivals, which to tell the truth I make up on the spot. There’s nothing like a little tumble with no thought of child-bearing duties in mind to keep a glow in a woman’s cheeks.”

Janela glanced at me, made a thin smile and said: “I quite
like
that system, Your Majesty. You can be assured I’ll suggest it to my grandmother when we return to Orissa.”

Badryia nodded in great satisfaction. “Tell my sister in Orissa that it’s really the only sensible way to keep them in their place, poor things. It’s a pity, really, that the goddess made them that way. I am a woman wise in the ways of the world as well as the heavens and I still don’t understand how men can turn from such lovable little things as children to such great boors as men, causing us women no end of grief, if you let them, and still behaving as if they were children, who have unformed minds, after all, so they can be forgiven.

“But like all men they swagger about as if what they had between their legs was anything more than what the goddess gave them to pleasure us. Getting in quarrels with one another and wanting to solve it with a fight instead of talk. And they can be such sour creatures, don’t you think? Taking offense at the slightest thing and supposing that the goddess herself plots against them. And pout! Why they pout more than any babe!”

The Queen laughed at some memory. Then she said, “My grandmother had a man once who took offense at some nonsensical thing he believed she’d overlooked on purpose. This on their bridal journey, mind you, when she was doing her best to please him. And do you know he didn’t speak to her for an entire day? He only rattled about the canoe in a great dark mood, punishing her with his silence. He even boasted about his treatment of her to his friends when they returned.”

“What did she do to set him straight, Your Majesty?” Janela asked, shooting me another amused look.

“Why she cut out his tongue,” the Queen said. “Then he had good reason to keep his silence.”

“I wish you could return with me, yourself, Your Majesty,” Janela said, quite fervently. “Every woman in the west would praise your name to the skies.”

The Queen nodded — this was a royal truth that needed no further comment.

“Then you should listen to me closely on another matter, little sister,” she said. “This journey of yours... to Tyrenia? I believe it to be the same place you seek, although I am not familiar with the name you use... what was it?”