The Tower of Il Serrohe (16 page)

BOOK: The Tower of Il Serrohe
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“‘
You think
I
could understand…’ Teresa said, skepticism growing.

“‘
Possibly. Or someone in your world, if you could take, what do you call it, records of instincts we have and figure out what they mean and what they’re for.’

“‘
The writings. Yes, we must write these things down. But do we have time with the Soreyes wanting to overrun the Valle?’


Pia squeezed Teresa’s arm. Teresa looked into the large amber eyes and understood.

“‘
Yes, Pia, you’re right. We must make the time in spite of what happens. But so much to do!’


Pita stood and helped Teresa up. ‘We must get started immediately. We will go back to Piralltah Steeples and tell you all we know of the clans’ stories, songs, and chants. The talkings that will take place here can go on without us. Mostly it will be the dry business of setting up defenses and sentries to watch for Soreye movements into the Valle. Come on!’


They ate a quick breakfast of cooked grains soaked in fresh milk
from the Taurimin
, hibiscus tea, and dried apples. After making their apologies to the leaders of Piralltah, the Nohmin, and the rest of the clans, they left for Piralltah Steeples.


Many winters later, in her final days, Teresa shared her thoughts at that time with Pia and Pita who passed on what she said to the storytellers of the Nohmin.


Teresa observed that some knowledge of all the beings of the Valle had been retained in the rituals of the old women of Piralltah because as healers, they had to utilize everything known among the clans to affect cures. Where gaps occurred, they could go back to the
Barbamin who functioned as a commune. Thus, they retained the ability to weave together all the special magical rituals of the clans though they had no inclination to decide how to wield those powers
.


Perhaps even the bats would forget their isolation for a time to share their instinctual knowledge.


But what of the Soreyes? Surely, they were tapping old ways and doing new things with them so that even those of the Valle knew something was afoot. There was something more than cunning and sinister about how they did things and how they thought.


To Teresa, they were most like people in her own world: evil people or, at least, those who operated solely to benefit themselves. Yet there seemed no way to learn what was going on in the rituals on the cliffs.


All those thoughts came later with thinking and time. As they traveled that morning, Teresa felt better as they settled into a brisk walk up through the sand hills and along the arroyo to the Steeples. Something about the encounter with the bat made her feel uneasy, though. Somehow, the key in their search of what she called the ‘memories,’ the effort to discover greater powers to use on behalf of the Valle Abajo would not all be found in the stories, chants, and songs of the Piralltah Steeples. What was it about the bats? She wondered.


As they rested while sitting on the banks of the arroyo, Teresa looked back down to the vast bosques of the river. In the tangle of massive cottonwoods and bushy willows, there was a dark area.


She had been told it was a maze of swamps and twisting channels that had carved out thousands of islands hidden under a canopy of ancient cottonwoods: The Place of the Bats sat on a river island called Lookgosee.


Teresa instinctively felt the key to fill in the gaps of ancient knowledge would only be found there. Why did she feel that so deeply, while not understanding it or being able to express it in words?”

 

 

thirty two

 

 


Pula, a Pirallt girl on the verge of becoming a young woman, happily served as an informant going between Piralltah Steeples and Il Mote every other day so the three sisters could know how the conference was progressing, what the latest was on Soreye movements, and so forth. Pula was convinced she was a full-fledged apprentice to Pita and Pia, but nothing had been done officially. Yet.


Pita laughed as Pula left on yet another jaunt to Il Mote. ‘If our leaders were to choose anyone else for our next apprentice when the Spring Rituals begin, I believe that girl would put a vomiting poultice in their tea… or
our tea!


Pia joined in with a broad smile. Teresa wasn’t particularly amused. ‘She is quite helpful, but does she have to tag along constantly? Her chattering with the old ones we are interviewing can be distracting.’

“‘
True, but you must admit the old ones don’t mind her as much as we do. Perhaps she has actually helped by her youthful disregard of “The Sacred.” For her, it is all natural because everything is new to her.’

“‘
Well, maybe.’ Teresa glanced at Pia who was stringing peas and saw by her quiet smile that she agreed with Pita.

“‘
Anyway, let’s go over these different versions of the stories of the Sky Demons or lizards
and see if we can summarize their similarities to the point they may tell us something of the Soreyes.’


Pita sat next to Pia and began to help with the peas. ‘But are we jumping at a thought—’

“‘
Jumping to a
conclusion
,’ Teresa corrected.

“‘
A conclusion. Anyway, are the Sky Demons and the Soreyes one and the same?’

“‘
They could be. The stories talk about lizards that fell out of a dark thunderhead during a summer rainstorm and lived on a mesa until they learned the ways of people and began to walk on their back legs, hide their tails under a robe, and speak the common tongue of people.’

“‘
You use that word “people” loosely. In your world, everyone is what you call human or “people,” but here, even though you think the Nohmin and the Pirallts resemble people, we are different. Smaller, more agile…’


Pia gave the other a look.

“‘
Of course, my sister, who could forget the bats that are so different—’


Teresa exploded with excitement. ‘Yes, but not so unusual to me. We have bats in my world, only they are barely the size of my hand. Even the Soreyes resemble humans but they are taller, more slender, and have that silver sheen to their skin. So the bats and the Soreyes are somewhat like those of my world.’

“‘
Poor humans,’ Pita said without much compassion. ‘Even here their kind doesn’t have much magic. The Soreye rituals are very reverent, but they couldn’t heal a cut finger or glass a thimble of sand if their lives depended on it. Their religion gives them spiritual comfort, but little else.’

‘“
Why am I so different?’ Teresa wondered aloud. ‘I should be as powerless as they are here in the Valle.’


Pia and Pita exchanged glances. ‘Well, you aren’t a Soreye, though you resemble them in many ways, but we feel you’re more like us, the Pirallts; and other than passing through the Portal and being a quick study, you haven’t demonstrated many powers.’

“‘
I know I’m still young in the rituals in spite of my years, but still…’

“‘
Of course. But to return to the Soreyes,’ Pita insisted. ‘they have great strength and skill in battle in spite of their small numbers. But when it came to totally overrunning the Valle, they held back because they fear our numbers, and the wide area inhabited by the people of the Valle. That’s why the new rumors are disturbing. If they achieve new magical powers they can use in war, we are finished!’


Teresa jumped to her feet and began to pace, gesturing wildly. ‘Which is why we must get more on the Sky Demon stories. This must be the old ways of telling more or less how the Soreyes came to live on the cliffs and became more than just tall and ugly.’


Using Teresa’s notes, which Pita and Pia still could not fathom since Teresa had little time to teach reading and writing in addition to everything else, they tried to develop a master story of the Sky Demons. Perhaps the story of the Soreyes could provide a key to their mysterious religion.


The next morning, Teresa was reviewing her notes as Pita and Pia prepared breakfast.

“‘
This is interesting. It seems the reputation Soreyes have for planning ahead has a few connections with the Sky Demon stories.’

“‘
In what way?’ Pita asked.

“‘
This comes from a tale told by the old woman right here in Piralltah,’ Teresa replied. “Though small in number, the demons could keep their neighbors wary of attacking them because the lizards, or ‘sky’ demons always knew how their enemies would react to any action. Battles were hard on the enemies of the lizards because they would fly headlong into the fight without plans relying on instinct for defense, when the lizards would carefully isolate little groups of the others and overpower them.’”

“‘
Sounds like the tactics of a
Loopohmin
family,’ Pita noted.


Teresa mulled that over thinking about hunting stories her father told her when she was a child.

“‘
The lizards of legend were equally clever and so are the Soreyes,’ Pita went on. ‘Yes, I think you’re right, these stories are about the Soreyes.’


Teresa nodded slowly. ‘It would make an interesting study, if we had time. Right now, we need to understand their religion. The only thing I can find in the tales is that their priests could prophesy, but there are no stories about
what
they could predict or warn of the future.’

“‘
Wait, Teresa, what is this “prophesy”?’

“‘
Yes, I can see where many of the Valle might not understand. It’s like your visions except instead of giving you insight into people, events, the past, or people in other places and times—it is about the future. The prophets of my Catholic religion lived in ancient Israel and were God’s messengers on Earth. God would inspire them to speak to present events and people’s behaviors and what results it would bring in the future.’

“‘
Fortune-telling!’ Pita shouted. ‘Of course, there are travelers resembling the Soreyes but not as nasty who come to festivals and fairs and tell a person’s fortune. Although, most of the time, it is good guesswork or telling a person what they want to hear…’

“‘
It’s something like that. But true prophesy shows how present actions of a whole people will bring about good or bad results. It is done to teach morality. I suspect the Soreyes have little use for personal fortune telling and as for their morality, I don’t know enough to judge that. Except it seems most of you think they’re bad and immoral because of the way they’ve treated you. Among my own kind, those who take slaves are also considered immoral. As far as the Soreyes are concerned, I suppose all of you are unworthy and a pain in the neck.’

“‘
So what kind of prophesy would the Soreyes use?’ Pita asked.

“‘
Perhaps knowing when they can take aggressive action and when they should hold back and not upset the apple cart in the Valle.’

“‘
Very practical, but how can a religion help them there?’

“‘
I have no idea, Pita. Let’s look at some other kinds of memories and stories after we eat.’


Enjoying a second cup of tea, the sisters started to pour over the other stories. Pia withdrew for awhile and went outside to walk along a ridge that overlooked the Valle Abajo.


It looked so calm and peaceful in the blue and silver mists of morning. Only the dark green of the swamps seemed to dampen the mood. Pia gazed west to see the Il Serrohe cliffs and tried to spot the Soreye village.


No buildings were evident but there was something at a point where the cliffs jutted out toward the Valle like a peninsula reaching out to pierce the Valle into two oceans to the north and south. On this peninsula was a circular wall about the height of a man. Perhaps it was a storage building or a place of worship being built by the Soreyes.


Pia’s gaze wandered back down to the small sand hills and sandy plains that sloped down to the bosque. Her eyes caught sight of the old, dead cottonwood marking the location of the Portal.


She almost reacted audibly. Rushing back to the house, she burst in on her sisters and interrupted their conversation.


Looking intently at Pita, she conveyed what suddenly occurred to her.


Teresa caught most of it also. ‘Yes, the stories of the Great Tree! In some it is the First Tree of the Great Bosque of the Valle which only now a remnant exists…’


Pita picked up on the excitement. ‘And in others, there is the Last Tree of the original forest that covered the Earth. In our own Pirallt traditions and those of the Ursimin have a story of a tree that had a spirit who could think and had feelings. It served as a voice and conscience for all the plants and animals of the Great Forest when people, particularly the
Kastmin,
started to cut and clear the forest.’

“‘
And, in every case, it was always beside a stream, river, lake, or pond,’ Teresa continued.

“‘
Our cottonwood is along an arroyo that used to be a stream running out of the west before the Soreyes moved in from the west desert. They probably diverted the stream and so now the streambed serves as an arroyo during thunderstorms. That’s why it and a whole forest of trees died much to the chagrin of the Kastmin who try not to destroy the lands in spite of the way they change things with their ponds and use of wood for building.’

“‘
But if the tree did have some kind of spirit, some connection with the ancient world before the peoples of the Valle lived here, maybe that explains the Portal…’ Teresa thought a moment. ‘Well, it doesn’t really
explain
the Portal, but maybe the Portal and this tree have some kind of connection.’

“‘
Could it be the Portal, which is the pathway connecting my valley to yours, was the tree’s way of trying to bring others to the Valle? But only those with the ‘right spirit’ such as yourself.’

“‘
And you two,’ Teresa added. ‘Those who could have special powers. In spite of the tree being dead, the Portal still exists though no longer under the control of a thinking being: the Great Tree.’

Nersite stopped a moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand this Portal business, but it’s a kind of pathway between our valleys. Niddle-ai couldn’t explain it to me, either.


Whatever,” Don said, trying to sound bored. “Go on with the story.”                

Nersite was relieved and continued.


The three sisters thought about this in silence for several minutes: Teresa scan
ning her notes for more connections, Pita searching her memory, and Pia gathering the dishes and seeing the Valle in her mind as she had seen it a few minutes earlier.


Finally, Pita broke the silence. ‘We are fascinated, but what’s the real connection between our problem, the Soreyes, and the Great Tree? None really. The Great Tree stories have nothing to do with Soreyes except maybe we suspect they destroyed the tree in our valley, but probably not intentionally.’


Teresa looked at her sisters and saw, as usual, they were of one mind on the matter. ‘Perhaps, but why did we
try
to make a connection? There is something subconscious working here and we can resolve it only by knowing more about the Soreyes.’


Pita looked at Teresa skeptically. ‘Do you really think we can go up on those cliffs and get them to sit down and tell us stories and memories? Initiate us into their religion?’

“‘
Well, no, but if someone could… no, I guess you just couldn’t disguise yourself as a Soreye and join right in. Like where are there other Soreyes anywhere near the Valle?’ Teresa asked.

“‘
Maybe to the far west. Also, in the Far North are those who are similar to them, but have not visited the Valle in years. No one’s been there and we haven’t heard tales of other Soreyes…’ Pita and Pia suddenly took a hard look at Teresa, and then faced each other as a deep communication passed between them. ‘Of course, we are so blind!’

“’
What?’ Teresa asked, picking up nothing that went between the sisters.


Pita and Pia just smiled and looked at her with assurance. ‘Leave it to us,’ Pita said. ‘We live here and we know a thing or two.’”

 

 

thirty three

 

 


Later that day, coming down the bleak trail that snaked its way between the distant blue mounds to the northwest and the upper reaches of the west mesa of Valle Abajo, a man, in his twenties, leading what looked like two laden pack mules seemed to barely move in the late afternoon heat. Two watchmen on the north edge of the Soreyes’ mesa had been eyeing him since noon when he emerged from over the ridge of the west mesa.

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