A motley company crouched around the tiny, smokeless fires: hita in odd bits of clothing -- an open shirt, or undershorts, or a single sock pulled over a snout, and naked or semi-naked men and boys in camouflage war paint -- pieces of hita mane, chicken feathers and trinkets woven into their tangled hair. On the trip south, they lost thirty of the ninety who had rested under the overhang. A few wandered away to find their own fortune. A handful died in a skirmish with a now extinct army patrol. Some perished from the dangers of the trail: the bite of a toad or lord beetle, the stumble against poisonous bark, the quick crush and pull of a boa tree root, the deadly suck of a bog as fog muffled their cries. Most of the thirty had died from the malnourished weakness that would have killed them anyway, not that the reality made Luke feel any better. Now the bush hardened survivors waited a few kilometers from their destination, a rebel military base squatting on the side of a silent, round hill hidden by a jungle canopy of ferns, trees and magic. In the forest ahead lay the secret traps, mapped out by the wraith, and watching guards who had missed the silent steps, the shifting shadows of a hita scout and two boys.
"They're taking a long time," muttered Luke through a scraggly gray beard oddly knotted with beads. Dante scanned for the hita, Brown Mane.
"Damn," he muttered and jumped to his feet, shouting. "They're bringing someone with them. Move." Men and hita leapt to their feet to surround him, guns bristling. "Black cover me."
The wraith floated the cloak around his naked, painted body.
Toby and Bill bounced out of jungle, babbling together, "They sent Bishop Francis ‘cause they think you'll trust him. They know we're here, Holy Dan. Felt your magic. They all want to meet you. They have planes and wizards and your Mama's here and your brother and it was all a mistake. And we met Trevor Xian and he sat us and Brown Mane down with these little sticky cakes and this sweet magic drink that fizzed," Bill and Toby made a face, "And asked all about us and you and everyone ..." They stopped, puffing to catch their breath, and stared at the aimed guns. Brown Mane and Father, now Bishop, Francis strode up and halted behind them.
"Why didn't you tell me?" imaged Dante to Friend, with a wave of anger. He hadn't agreed with the sending of boys to scout out the rebel camp but everyone else said no one would notice two extra kids running around. Obviously, they had.
"Humans kind to the juveniles and Brown Mane," pointed out Friend. The hita had never really absorbed the fact that humans could hurt their young, despite the evidence.
Brown Mane showed humans watching the two boys and itself coming out of the jungle as if they expected them.
Francis walked up to Dante and knelt, head bowed. Dante stared down at him, feeling nothing.
"Your Highness," said the priest.
"Holy Dan doesn't like people to kneel," stated Toby then whispered confidentially, "but he's still The Bodhisattva.
"Holiness," said Francis and rose with a smile.
"Hello, Father," said Dante. "I never thanked you for the cloak."
"Oh, my son," said Francis, raising his hands in a futile gesture. "You were supposed to be spirited away to a safe house but Yevgeny got to you first. Sweet and his sons chased after the van. But they only found the fire then a swarm of soldiers," Francis glanced at the hita, "You had to meet your destiny. Constable Rashmanon met his with a broken skull, his body in a watery ditch." Dante didn't answer, remembering Francis kissing Yevgeny's ring. Francis continued, "I've been sent to invite you to this evening's feast of Gaia. It's Adonis night, what could be more auspicious? A wonderful celebration. With you joining us, it's the defeat of Yevgeny. Trevor's anxious to meet you."
"My men want to join The Shining Path," said Dante without expression. "I got the wraith to guide them here, my job's done. All I ask is that the Shining Path doesn't hurt hita. Which I doubt, knowing John Sweet and those like him."
On his left, Jerome whispered, "At least attend the Feast of Gaia. It's Adonis night. I can't tell you how long it's been since I've seen a woman. Smelt one, touched one. Don't get me started. Some of the younger men have never seen one. They think they look like the picture of the naked fire woman on the front of the explosives box. We won't go if you don't go. Don't disappoint them."
Sullen anger pinched Dante's face. He shook his head. "You're all free. You don't need me to go."
"A sacred grove of Gaia is neutral ground," said Jerome.
Dante wrapped the cloak closer around him and stared off into the forest. The closer they had come to the rebels, the greater the men's excitement and the deeper his gloom. He had enjoyed the trip, despite the dangers, and now it ended. He admired Jerome and Luke and they seemed to like him. The men had formed a strong loyal band that included him, seeming to revere him and his knowledge of the wilds and the hita. Once away from pursuit, they had stopped to rest for a few days, and Jerome decided that the boys should learn to play soccer. Jack, a slave stitcher in a garment factory until a decrease in business had meant his sale to a jobber then the mine, had sown a ball from scraps of leather. Men and boys, they had divided up into teams and, to Dante's amazement, insisted he play, most of them as clumsy as he until they got the hang of it.
As a boy, Dante had fanatically watched the professional games on the computer. Nanny bought him a ball to kick around in the garden, but friends and the games they played remained out of the question. It had led to him running and standing on the gate of the cottage, watching in tongue-tied fascination on the rare occasions when a car or buggy with children passed down the lonely road. As Wordless, he couldn't have joined in the games at the summer picnic, even if the other slaves had asked. He sat close to William and watched, his longing hidden deep inside, ignored but protected from taunts by the respect given the old transpo.
The hita had joined in Jerome's games of soccer, adding to the revelry. Dante supposed he could teach the game to the other hita. He sighed. It wouldn't be the same.
"You're our priest," said Luke.
"You'll have a real priest now. Lots of them. And a Bishop too," said Dante. He turned to Francis. "Call it sacrilege, I don't care. What have the ordained and anointed ever done for them? They were carrying the dead with them. To keep them from the scavengers and the souls from wandering. Slaves are dumped, don't get a funeral, just a few silent prayers from the other slaves, maybe, to ask Adonis or Seth to look for them at the gates of the underworld. I was your cantor, so I sang the dead across the river and through the gates. Then they wanted a feast of Gaia." He shrugged then said to the men, "You all go. I wish you well. After all we've been though, I hope they won't betray you back into slavery."
"Oh, no," said Toby. "There's no slaves there. Master Xian's a transpo, he hates slavery."
Dante smiled sadly at him. "I wish I had your faith, lad."
"The hita raids divert people from the cause. Yevgeny looks good when his troops save a village from the hita. Guns won't help the hita in the end," said Francis. "Talk to Trevor about them. If you and the hita won't join forces with us, at least neutrality and they're left alone."
Luke whispered in Dante's ear, "You freed us. You can deny it all you like, but we won't see The Bodhisattva enslaved again. Not one man or hita here will let them take you."
Friend, now understanding human language, nudged Dante's mind, reminding him of the divisions among the hita as to the effectiveness of guns. Dante glanced at the men watching him with expectation and trust. Never mind what might happen to him, he couldn't stand that they might end up slaves again. And the rebel magic sniffer. He scratched his stump. A powerful one, since he'd been careful not to use magic for a week. No more hiding places.
"All right," he said.
Francis gave a half bow. "In a few hours then, when the sun's half way down the sky." He knit his brows and stepped forward with a tentative smile. "Dan. We never forgot you. We're on your side."
Dante gave no answer.
The company stayed painted and wild, guns bristling, reflecting their leader's distrust as they followed behind Jerome and Luke in a rough formation. At their head walked Dante, black pants his only concession to the occasion, rifle slung across his shoulder. He had washed the camouflage off his back. Let them read it and know the evil of his family, including the wonderful Baba Yaga.
The Black floated to one side of him, Friend walked on the other. Just behind paced Toby and Blueberry holding aloft a large patchwork banner flying a coat of arms similar to the one he had carved into the stock of his barrel; his father's shield and crown with the two bars sinister and the Ankh of Gaia, now flanked by an armed hita on one side and a wraith on the other. The roses of Yaga twisted up the sides in branches created by the correction rod that lay across the bottom of the shield. The last were added by Jack before he shyly presented it to Holy Dan. Jerome had suggested that the banner would boost morale. The men agreed, guessing that The Bodhisattva's overwhelmed silence meant acceptance.
Dante hid his fear under a solemn, imperious bearing as the company marched straight out of the jungle and along a short runway, rebel guards and soldiers running beside and behind them. A whistle swelled up, starting with the boys, spreading to the men, then onto the hita.
I am just a little soul,
Yet Gaia thinks of me
And holds me close within her care
When all are cruel to me...
A smile flickered across Dante's face as he drew strength from them. Ahead, in front of a sacred grove stood a crowd of nuns, soldiers, and nobles; a man with a moon face, Trevor Xian, at their head.
"Feel this, sniffer," thought Dante, narrowing his eyes and swelling his magic.
A young, slight, noblewoman with braided red hair, gave a small cry and clutched her arms, unable to meet his eyes. This was the magic sniffer? Dante dampened his power with a twinge of guilt. Beside her, a tall regal mother superior appraised him from under firm dark brows. On Xian's other side stood two military leaders, Father Francis, then Baba looking strained, and a thinner image of Yevgeny, his half-brother Dedalus.
The company halted. Dante crossed his arms and scanned the crowd for correction rods, knowing Luke, Jerome, and Friend also searched. They found guns and rifles but no rods. Dante glanced at the skeptical, mocking faced nobles and military behind the royalty and thought about creating a little thunder and wind, a small earthquake, a display of threat. That would cure their snobby contempt. He decided against it. Who cared what a bunch of tin wizards thought.
The rebel leader smiled, bowed and extended a ringed hand. Dante stared down at it, searching for the poison needle. Trevor pulled back his hand, removed the rings and shoved them into a pocket. With a knowing grin, he stretched out his hand once again.
"Welcome, Your Royal Highness Prince Dante of the House of Yaga, Weaver of Words," he said. "Or do you prefer to be addressed as Your Holiness?"
Dante glanced at Baba who examined the horizon. House of Yaga, not likely. "I'm Dan Weaver."
"Welcome, Dan Weaver," Trevor smiled at the men. "And his comrades."
"Hey Dan. Hey Dan!" A tall, thin young man pushed his way through the crowd, past surprised soldiers and nobles. Guns clicked ready to shoot and the man stopped, bewildered. Dante broke into a grin, "Jamie!"
The busboy flung himself at him. Dante waved a hand for the men to stand down and grabbed him in a bear hug.
"That Yevgeny hurt you and took you away," Jamie began to sob, "I thought you was dead."
"I'm O.K.," said Dante, swallowing hard. "It's O.K. Hey, you're all grown up."
Jamie sniffed then swelled with pride."I'm a member of the Shining Path. Can I be one of your men, too?"
"Sure," said Dante. Mike and Kate, a nervous John Sweet behind, pushed their way through the crowd. "You're all here?"
"With what we knew, we had to close up and flee," said Mike. "Or turn to stone."
"Sue?" asked Dante.
"She was in your washroom. Heard everything. Really shook her. Took your money and the gold rose and left for New Albany. Where she still is, far as I know."
"War paint and bangles. A bunch of savages. What a sight you are," laughed Kate. "All of you."
"This is Luke, Jerome, Toby, Bill, Jack, Nat..." said Dante. He introduced each man and boy individually. "And this," he stared at John Sweet and placed an arm around the hita, "is Friend."
The hita looked Sweet over with its blank alien stare and imaged to Dante, "The murderer?"
"Yes, this is the famous hita murderer," said Dante aloud.
"We'd like to put the era of hita killing behind us," broke in Trevor Xian.
Dante had forgotten the rebel leader in the crush of reunion. All his suspicions came rushing back but he loosened his arm from around Friend and extended his hand. "I hope so." Xian took it in both of his and pumped it.
"Now I should introduce a few people," said the leader. "Though I'm afraid I'm not as good at names as you are." Kate grasped Jamie's arm and eased him back to her.
"Thank Gaia or we'll be standing here forever," muttered a bored voice from among the nobles. Dante pretended he hadn't heard but it confirmed his earlier feelings. A momentary scowl crossed Trevor's face as he turned to the soldier on his left.
"This is Robert Angelo, my second-in-command, transpo like us," introduced Trevor. "David Evans, General, transpo." The two men nodded at Dante then shook his hand. "Bishop Francis, you know."
"Her Royal Highness, Yvonne, you've met," continued Xian, "and also His Royal Highness, Dedalus, I understand."
Dante stood without expression, his arms at his sides. His half-brother gave him a nod, Baba looked stricken.
"Please, please, he was only showing me the net. He stole it from Yevgeny," she whispered. "We must talk after the feast." Dante said nothing and Trevor quickly moved him onto the Reverend Mother.
"This is Her Majesty, Queen Constance," said Trevor with a bow. Dante and she shook. "And this is Her Royal Highness, Beatrice, our magic sniffer." The princess tentatively extended a limp hand.
"I didn't mean to scare you," whispered Dante as he took it. She didn't look reassured. "Here. An apology" He moved his stump to his hair and invisible fingers untied a colorful braid of ribbon, hita hair, beads and a feather. The trinket dangled in the air as he presented it to her. Beatrice glanced at the Queen. Constance's knitted black brows stood out in a face drained of color. Nobles and rebels stared.
"Go on, take it," ordered the Queen.
With a nervous grimace, Beatrice let the ornament float into her palm.
"No mumbo jumbo. Damn impressive," said Trevor.
"It's not a trick. It's a necessity," stated Dante with a glare at the Queen.
"I'm not responsible for my husband," she said mildly.
"Come, let's feast at Gaia's table," said Xian with a clap that dispelled the tense moment.
" Blessed are they who peacefully gather in my name,"pronounced Francis.
Dante walked with Trevor towards the grove, Luke and Jerome close behind, then the hita and the people following.
"I'm told you murdered Rotten," said Xian. Dante said nothing. "That's not an accusation, it's thanks. He trained me," Xian almost spit the word, " special."
"And was on my ship," said David Evans. "Good riddance to bad rubbish. I hope he suffered."
"I've no regrets before Gaia," said Dante.
"Your back's bad," said Robert Angelo with a touch of admiration. "You must have been hard to break."
Dante remained silent, if they managed to take him, any answer would turn against him in retraining.
"If you remember the briefing, he couldn't speak or even gesture," said Trevor.
"Oh, right. Great Seth, I can't imagine," said Robert. "I went mad as it was."
"So that's your excuse," said David. "That why the nuns call you Roddy? I thought it was something else."
Robert smirked.
" I knew how to scream," thought Dante. His face hardened. Transpos talking openly like this. Making jokes about the rod. They weren't going to trap him with memories.
At the entrance to the grove, Trevor said, "Normally, the nuns don't allow weapons. But these are perilous times."
"Thank you," said Dante. He imaged to Friend, "Keep close." The hita moved up beside him, noting that some of the clan had hidden in the tangles around the grove.
They entered a large glade canopied with broad leaved jungle branches and twisting vines to create a natural cathedral. Insects and lizards, invisible in the trees, sang a chorus to the robed and crowned statue standing alone on a high stump in the center of the Celtic knot of light dappled split log tables and benches. The Gaia of Botany cathedral had found herself exiled to the south. Dante thought she looked as out of place and uncomfortable in heavy robes in the middle of her nature as he felt in his hita trinkets and war paint, surrounded by robed and uniformed nobles and soldiers. He sent her a sympathetic greeting and seemed to feel commiseration wafting back. God on his side, he prayed, not for protection, that he had to work out for himself, but for comfort and strength.
"Look, women. Lots and lots," he heard Nat whisper to Jack.
"It's Adonis night. If some of the nuns need an Adonis maybe we'll get lucky," said Jack.
A soldier nearby said, "They lost some in the siege of the cathedral." He chuckled. "Look at that one there, she's eyeing you."
"Oh," said Nat in a small, uncertain voice.
The sound of Jack clapping him on the back, "A few drinks and you'll get your courage up." They laughed.
Dante stared at the nuns giggling together as they set the tables. Covered with scars, a stump for a hand, frightening magic, a freak and a savage; what woman would want him? The young nuns sent glances his way as Trevor Xian escorted him to a seat in the center of the circle. Their snickers and whispers increased; like Reba at the farm, they laughed at him, each one more beautiful than the one beside her. He looked away, tongue-tied. To get courage by drinking as he always had before, might as well kow tow right now and get the capture over with. He stiffened his face as the old grief rose. Martha. So comfortable. He never had to say a word.
Trevor sat him down with Princess Beatrice to his left, the Queen beside her, Jerome to his right. Friend took the floor behind them, The Black collapsed into a heap of cloth beside the hita. Luke sat with Francis across from him, engrossed in conversation with the Bishop, two young male priests hanging onto every word. Dante felt a stab of jealousy. He had sat and listened while Luke and Jerome talked about politics and philosophy around the fire and Francis had talked religion with him in the past. Didn't take long for the nobles to ignore him. He wished he could become a priest, he had enjoyed conducting the services for the men. He glanced away. No point thinking about the impossible, he needed to remain focused on leaving free and in one piece.
The other men sat behind and around him, interspersed with welcoming nuns, soldiers and nobles. Trevor Xian's two leaders sat down across from Dante, backs to Gaia. Baba and Dedalus had made their way to seats on the far side of the grove, his biological mother pretending that she didn't stare at him when he looked elsewhere.
"Eat dust," thought Dante. "I won't be controlled."
Trevor Xian wandered from table to table, chatting with the men, each one looking pleased and honored to be singled out. Dante had seen that look on their faces over him. He wouldn't be missed when he slipped away at the end of the meal, before one of those young priests or cantors and a nun or two began to sing the love story of Adonis and Gaia. Away, away, into Her wilderness to pour out his heart to the one woman who would never die, never reject him.
One of the nuns set carafes of wine at each table. She smiled when she reached his spot and placed a bottle of Special Lemon in front of him. He stared at it, half admiring the skill it had taken to make the drink look as if no one had tampered with it.
"I like your banner," said the Queen. He started at being addressed. "The crest is so unusual, yet familiar." She picked up the Special Lemon and examined the Mage's seal of approval with a smirk. "The shield looks just like the appointment certificate on this bottle." Her lady-in-waiting covered her mouth to hide a titter. "The real coat of arms is quite different."
Dante clenched his jaw, stared at Gaia and silently prayed, "Just let me get through your meal free, in one piece, without murdering anyone. I don't want to dishonor you."
Jerome shifted beside him, then said conversationally to the rebel generals, "Getting here was quite a trip. We ran into one of the Undermage's patrols. Dan lost his temper," Jerome glanced at the Queen, "Killed one of the soldiers with a couple of words. We finished off the rest."
"They don't need to know that," murmured Dante.
"She's a bitch," muttered Jerome.
"Let it be."
"I must get the women organized for the dance," said Constance. Two red patches had appeared in the middle of her cheeks. She and the lady-in-waiting rose and moved to the open circle around the statue. As if on a signal, the nuns and most of the women joined them. Trevor reappeared and plopped down across from Dante.
"I think it's a lovely banner," whispered Beatrice. Intent on controlling himself, Dante almost missed the words.
"I don't think the Prince heard you," said Trevor. He smiled. "I mean Dan."
"I think it's a lovely banner. I do stitch work. It's lovely," she repeated.
"Thank you. Jack worked hard on it. The men are proud of it," said Dante. She nodded, staring at her hands twisting the beads of the trinket in her lap. He felt sorry for her, forced to sit beside him. "You going to dance?'
"Oh, no. I mess up."
The women around the statue joined hands and began, Oh Gaia, Queen of Heaven. Trevor half turned to watch. Friend imaged hita dancing then a happy Dante and the men waltzing with the women. Dante ignored it, he didn't want to try and explain again why he wouldn't be having sex with a woman or a bunch of women. The hita poked him. He sent pictures of hita praising El. Not sex, the women were praying. Friend felt confused for a moment, then imaged that the women in their dresses looked like flowers. It asked him to tell Beatrice that she looked like a fire rose with her red hair and purple velvet dress. Dante shook his head.
"You're talking to that hita, aren't you?" said Trevor turning back in his seat. His face showed intense curiosity.
"Yes," said Dante.
"What's it saying?"
"It says the women look like flowers," said Dante in a monotone.
"That they do," grinned Trevor.
Friend waved a snout at Beatrice. Dante sighed. "And that Princess Beatrice looks like a fire rose." The princess blushed.
The dance ended and the women returned to their places. Bishop Francis walked up to Gaia and bobbed a kneel then turned, raised his hands and intoned,
"Oh Gaia, Mother.
Whose breasts pour forth milk and honey.
And from whose body comes the Grain of Life.
Thank you for this bounty,
Thank you for this meal of peace
Where all are one as we
break your bread
and drink your wine.
Francis took a round loaf and broke it then passed the pieces to his priests who broke it again and passed it to a table. Francis took another loaf and broke it, the ritual repeated until all had a piece on their plate. At each table, a random person took a carafe of wine and poured a little into the mug in front of each of the people near them. Trevor poured for Dante, his generals, the Queen, Beatrice and Jerome.
"Gaia blesses you," said Francis.
"And you," said the gathering.
Each person dipped their piece of bread in the dash of wine and ate it. Dante wished he could send as well as fetch but no amount of trying had caused things to disappear. He lifted the bread to his mouth, then palmed it, a deceit Luke had shown him, the healer amazed that Dante had never learned this elementary trick. The bread fell to Dante's feet and he buried it in the dirt with his toe, while asking Gaia's forgiveness.
A cantor stood and began a psalm while apprentices, novices and acolytes served the first course; biscuits and a stew that smelt of Kate and the pub. The hymn ended and everyone began to talk.
"A proper dollop of wine?" asked Trevor, hovering the bottle over Dante's mug.
"I don't drink," said Dante. The smell was overpowering.
"Oh."
Robert Angelo said to his leader, "Jerome here says His Highness can kill with a word."
Xian raised his eyebrows. "Is that why you don't drink?"
"Yes."
Dante crumbled a biscuit into his stew and stirred it round. He couldn't think of any way to palm the dish. The spoon swished back and forth. His head ached. He dropped the spoon and massaged his forehead. Why keep up the pretense when they all sat waiting for his collapse?
"Is there some thing wrong with my stew?" Kate's shadow fell across him. "You haven't touched a biscuit, except to mess it about in the bowl. And the Special Lemon's not even opened. They'll think I lied about what you like, Dan Weaver."
"I'm not hungry," said Dante.
"You used to snap down my biscuits. How about some honey cake then? Or one of my big cookies, don't tell me you didn't like them."
Dante heard the silence. Everyone watching them. "Please, Kate. Don't get onto me. I like your cooking." He rose from his seat, suddenly desperate to leave. "I should go now. Thank you for inviting me." His men stood. "No, no, you all stay. Enjoy yourselves."
"You go, we go," said Jerome. "You know what I said. We won't let them take you."
"Damn," said Trevor with a slap to his head. "Gaia love me for an idiot. I see the magic and forget the rest. Here." He grabbed Dante's bowl, stirred it, ate from various parts, stirred it and ate again then put it back in front of his visitor. "It's not drugged. And neither is the Special Lemon." Xian untwisted the top, drank a few slugs and held it out. Dante stared at it.
Across the grove, Dedalus jumped up and raced over. He pulled the net from his robe and slapped it down in front of Dante.
"This is what I came to do when I visited Yvonne," he said. "Give you this abomination and say there'll never be another. My notes are gone, destroyed. And only I can put the magic in it. Yevgeny wants an army of golems. I built the web to protect you, not to harm you. Go on. Take it."
Baba came up beside Dedalus. "You were hidden on the transpo ship to save your life. Please believe me that things went wrong."
Dante stood silent, he wanted desperately to believe them. Friend tapped him on the shoulder, telling the humans they talked. Dante knew what it wanted. He picked up the bottle of Special Lemon and examined the coat of arms.
"Before I go. The hita have a question. They wonder, because they don't understand about ownership and forcing people to do things," he said. "They wonder why," he gave a deep sigh as the words, I am lower than the worms that eat the dead, wafted through his mind. He imaged to Friend that he couldn't ask but the hita urged him on with another push of its snout. "They wonder why it's not like with them. They can't lie, have to be straight with me and each other. They discuss things with me and they ask me and I can help them or not, but usually I help them. That's how it is between hita, too. They're not perfect, they argue and get sad and upset and mad. They'll kill any creature not a hita. But they don't reject each other." He put down the drink and picked up the net. "So they want to know," Dante looked from Trevor, to Dedalus, to his mother, "Why, when our religion calls for respect and kindness to all creatures, not just each other... why can't humans love one another?"