Chapter Twelve
“Sister, can you not feel the difference? The air about us is no longer of the same quality.”
“Yes, sister, I do. I have been aware of the change for some time now.”
“As have I. What shall we do?”
“I do not know sister, for certain. But, let us convene the entirety and we can ponder this together.”
“I will ring the bell, sister.”
“Yes, it is time. I will prepare the chamber.”
The dark skinned woman gathered her grey shawl about her shoulders with the intricately embroidered sigil of Parth on the lapel, the only decoration distinguishing what would otherwise be a quite ordinary cloak, and left the small room. She walked down the dark and constricted corridor, needing no illumination to guide her along the way, and opened a high and narrow wooden door at the end of the passage. Purposefully, she ascended the steep, stone steps, lifting her heavy skirts as she walked so that she would not trip. The stairway wound upward sharply. The cold, cobbled walls were damp with summer’s perspiration and she listened to her own footsteps as they echoed off of them.
As she neared the top, she noticed the light of the moon streaking through the slits in the thick rock and reflecting off of the polished walls of the tower room. It played upon the stone and danced across the buffed surfaces in a crescendo of pale colors. No door hindered her entrance. Emmeline stepped lightly over the final tread and headed directly for the heavy silken cord that hung from the silver bell above it. She pulled upon it once and a delicate sound immediately flooded her ears. She closed her pale grey eyes, raised her chin slightly and listened to the beauty of the chimes.
“The perfection of the bell remains steadfast, regardless of the reason for its sounding,” she noted ironically. “Some things remain always apart from conflict,” she sighed.
Emmeline pulled upon the cord once more and then left the chamber, while the sound pressed upon her back portentously as she descended the serpentine stairway.
Each of the other eleven maids of Parth lifted their heads from what they were doing upon hearing the chiming of the tower bell. Courtney, raven haired and thin as a rail, dropped her pen and ink and stood up. She closed her dark, oval eyes and allowed the sound to resonate within her before leaving her chamber and heading for the meeting room. Tamara, short and squat, forever cleaning and forever talking, ceased her chatter for a moment and laid her broom against the cold wall. Sevilla remained perfectly still, timid and frightened as was her nature, and deep creases appeared upon her brow when the sound commenced.
Rella flicked her auburn hair off of her cheek and sat upon the cool soil. She lay her pretty face back upon her long neck and followed the vibrations of the summons across the moonlit field, until they dissipated in the far woods. She farmed the night truffles, and she reluctantly placed what little she retrieved in her pouch, certain now that her endeavors were done for the evening.
The remaining sisters, Bethany, Dahlia, Rose, Angeline, Jocasta and Violet had been in the kitchen and adjacent dining room when the bells tolled. They immediately stopped their conversation and congregated close together in the larger eating area. None needed to speak in order to understand the importance of the moment. Each sister had been restless of late, awakened at night by the heaviness of the air, disturbed in her dreams by unwanted images and affronted by smells and sights that she was unaccustomed to. There was an unspoken comprehension of the changes all around them and a silent agreement as well to make no verbal mention of them. Nevertheless, they all anticipated that this moment would come.
Each maid gathered what they chose to and made her way to the great hall in the very center of the structure. The room was built at the very heart of the Tower of Parth, and its amber colored stone walls rose steeply on all five sides. There were no windows disturbing the graceful sweep of stone as it ascended to the roof far above their heads. The room was illuminated by candles recessed into the smooth stone all around the perimeter and by the light of the moon that spilled itself carelessly onto the gleaming marble floor, cascading down through the pale and opaque quartz skylights that comprised the ceiling aloft. A simple table and chairs of wood made up the only furniture in the entire space around which the women gathered, some of whom were already seated, while some were still standing. As Emmeline walked to what might be considered to be the head of the oval table, she heard Tamara chattering away to whomsoever would listen. A warm smile briefly curved her graceful lips upward.
Gretchen too smiled as the group gathered. She was already seated when Emmeline took the chair next to hers, and she laid her strong hand atop the other woman’s momentarily as a sign of reassurance and solidarity.
“Hush now sisters,” Gretchen said in a steady and controlled voice.
The group of maidens immediately focused their attention on the cropped haired Gretchen. That is, all but Tamara who continued to talk, seemingly unaware of the fact that she was the only one making any noise at all.
Emmeline grinned and addressed the talkative sister, “Dear Tamara, you will have ample time later to discuss this momentous evening.”
Tamara raised her head to the other with a start and blushed a deep crimson. She placed her hand over her red-lipped mouth and covered that one with her other, as if she required the two to stifle her words. The ladies in the room chuckled in response, except for the stern faced Angeline who simply shook her head from side to side, and frowned all the while.
Gretchen cleared her throat and leaned forward a bit, resting her open hands on the wood.
“It should be no surprise to any of you that we are here this evening. There is not a one of us who has not felt the changes. I am sure you are all as concerned and confused as I am. We have all known our purpose here. It has ostensibly been no secret amongst ourselves as to what we do. The world at large may think we are here for another reason all together. But for countless tiels, the maids of Parth have simply been guardians, and those outside these walls needed never know what we were guardians of. We, and those before us and those before them were never required to do more than reside here and maintain the tower and its lands. Of course, our training and our studies kept us apart from the rest of the world. But you were each and all chosen for this and you were also given the opportunity to reject the commission.”
The maids all listened intently to what Gretchen was saying, and not even Tamara spoke a single word.
“Our ultimate purpose, to safeguard the map, is known only to us and those few who charge us with this task year after year and tiel after tiel. But, now I fear things have changed. The world is not what it was before. The void encroaches upon us all, and I am sure you feel its approach as I do each and every day.”
“Our sister speaks truly. I fear that the time draws nigh when our guardianship may be tested,” Emmeline interjected, her pale grey eyes almost opaque against her ebony skin. “The maids have been fortunate all these years. The threat of power has been enough to keep the wolves at bay. But alas, they have become more vociferous of late, and they are driven by a force that is ravenous and relentless in its need,” she continued.
“But sister. We are completely untested. If we are the target of an attack, how will we possibly defend ourselves. It may be that the threat of our power being utilized has sufficed until now, but if we are called upon to exercise it against a real menace, what shall we do?” Rose questioned the group.
“Untested and ineffectual are two entirely different things, Rose. I for one am certain that I could defend myself quite well if the need arises.”
“I too,” Violet reiterated. “We are here to protect and defend that which was placed within this hall a hundred tiels ago. What else have we had to do but prepare for that eventuality? The prospect had never been far from my thoughts, particularly of late.”
“What type of foe would dare attack us here?” Bethany asked perplexed. “Have I been this blind these past years that I did not see so great a change in the world around me?” the scholarly looking old woman asked.
“Perhaps merely blinded by your devotion, sister. You have rarely raised your head from the Tomes for all these years. Your fingers are red and stained from your many hours of work. I would not expect you to be cognizant of all that the others may see and feel outside of these walls,” Gretchen responded tenderly.
“I do not think that the question should be ‘if we are challenged, but rather ‘when’,” Angeline said, half sitting, half standing, with her strong arms propping her up on top of the broad table. “May the First protect us all, but I can feel the enemy approaching. I wake up in the night and I think I can even hear it,” she concluded.
“Angeline is right, sisters. I have had no incertitude with regard to the issue. What form the assault will take, I surely do not know. But I know it will come,” Dahlia said, and she looked from one sister to the next as she spoke. “The question is, as guardians of the map, how best can we discharge our duty knowing that we are threatened?”
“We know not how much time we may have to prepare. We don’t know who the enemy is or what form an attack will take. The air is rampant with the stench of evil. The sky itself darkens, even though the summer sun shines.”
“We have one purpose to fulfill sisters, and only one. We are the custodians of the scroll. We must protect it from whatever may threaten that trust,” Emmeline responded. “It will serve no one well if we lose our lives in service, if we also lose possession of the map. It is unlikely that our enemy would approach us here in the tower if it did not already know or suspect that we harbored it here. I think that we can be perfectly sure that when the attack begins, whatever form it may take, the enemy will have only one thing on its mind, and that will be to retrieve the scroll from the tower.”
“Need we refrain from speaking his name even at this late hour? We all know who organizes the attack. Colton dar Agonthea is a formidable foe. If he himself deigns to engage us, we cannot win. But it is unlikely that he would venture this far north himself at this time. After all, Oleander and Liam are alive and well, the First willing, and even the evil one would not dare invade a land where a Chosen and his Lalas prevail, at least not yet. That is not to say that he would not sacrifice others of his own ilk on such a mission,” Violet scoffed.
“You have brought up two very important points, sister,” Emmeline interjected. “First, we should never think for a moment that there is any being other than Colton who leads the opposing forces. Second, you mention dear Oleander. I think it prudent that one of us visit Oleander and his Chosen. If they so desire they may be able to enlighten us. If nothing else, we can at the least express our concerns and hear their comments.”
“I agree. But who shall go?” Gretchen asked.
All the maids raised their hands at once, each anxious to commune with a Lalas and his bondmate.
“Well, everyone cannot go certainly,” Rose said. “I think Violet should be the one. She has the confidence of a lioness and the wits of a fox.”
“A wonderful choice. I agree,” Jocasta chimed.
“You have my vote, sister,” Sevilla said, and all the others nodded in agreement.
“What say you, Violet?” Bethany asked.
The maid stood slowly before the others. She bowed her head slightly and closed her dark eyes tightly, allowing her jet black hair to fall over her shoulders and obscure her face momentarily. When she again raised her head, her eyes were wide open and sparkling.
“It would be an honor, sisters. I go gladly to Oleander. My only hesitation is in leaving here and depleting our strength by one twelfth,” she said.
“I do not think an attack is as imminent as that,” Rose said, more as a question than a statement.
“No, Rose. I believe we do have enough time for Violet to go and to return before anything happens here,” Gretchen replied.
“You will be careful though, won’t you sister?” Tamara said, practically bursting forth with the words. She had been quiet much longer than she was accustomed to. “If in fact our purpose has changed, we must know. It would do us no good at all to be barking up the wrong tree, after all…”
Bethany who had been silent and contemplative as was her nature all this time, laid her head heavily upon the table and stretched her arms out before her. All the others gasped, thinking she was ill and having a seizure of sorts. Dahlia stood up immediately and rushed to her side. She was about to place her hand upon the older maid’s head when Bethany sat up straight once more.
“What did you say, Tamara?” she asked, and she stared straight at the sister across the table from her, with her eyes focused and intense.
“I said that it would do us no good to be barking…”
“No. Before that,” she practically snapped at her.
“Well, I think I said that maybe our purpose has changed,” she replied, surprised at how anxious Bethany was.
“Yes. You did. What made you say that?”
All the other sisters were watching this encounter raptly, not knowing what it was that could have caused the normally complacent Bethany to react so violently to anything, let alone a seemingly innocuous comment from the garrulous Tamara.
“I do not really know, Bethany. It did not require too much thought. It just occurred to me that if we are being called upon to defend ourselves for the first time, and that if circumstances have changed so drastically in the world around us, then maybe we need to consider that our purpose, the safeguarding of the map, may be changing in some way too,” she concluded thoughtfully.
Bethany rose from the table, and her chair crashed to the floor behind her in her haste. She swiftly walked to the wall behind Emmeline and placed her hands upon the cold, polished stone.
Pushing against it forcefully, a panel opened and her hands disappeared into a newly revealed chamber. She reached inside and retrieved a large, leather bound manuscript. With the book weighing her down, hunched over and belabored, she walked back to her place at the table and dropped it heavily down on the wood with a loud crash. She quickly raised her chair from the floor which in their surprise, the other sisters had allowed to remain where it fell. Pulling it in to the table once more, she sat heavily in her seat and started to rifle through the pages. When she found the passage she sought, she began to recite for all to hear. A hush descended upon the hallowed hall and not a sound could be heard other than Bethany’s steady voice.
“I will read to you all only the relevant part for now,” she said as she removed a silver tipped pointer from her gown and placed it upon the text.
“A child is born, yet disappears,
a tree is born, and who will hear its lonely cry?
A fire bursts upon the sky,
The maids arise with open eyes,
And change the purpose of their lives,
and who will know the reason why?
And who will know the reason why?”
She closed the heavy cover with a sharp thud, sending small clouds of dust into the air and then she raised her eyes to the group before her.
“This poem comes from a passage in the Tomes that I have been struggling with for years. I have conversed with many others about this, for all of us who study the Tomes believe that this passage is a very portentous one,” she said, breathlessly. “As you heard quite clearly, we are referenced in this section. And what Tamara just said struck a chord immediately. Perhaps our purpose is in fact changing,” she said to the group.
“Your hours of toil have paid off, it seems,” Gretchen commented, shoulders hunched.
“What about the rest of the passage though? Does it shed any more light upon the matter?” Rose questioned.
Bethany responded immediately. “The parts which come before and those that come after are certainly important, but they do not have anything to do with us. In fact, this is one of the very few passages that I have yet to discover that even mentions the maids.”
“Nevertheless Bethany, does the context not illuminate our reference at all?” Angeline asked.
“I do not think that any of this is relevant,” she responded somewhat curtly. “You see, sisters, I believe that it suffices for us to realize that the time is upon us right now, today, this very moment. It could not be more clear to me. What we have been charged to do, to protect the map by securing it in the safest place that we know of, has to now be questioned. And how, my sisters, do we begin to do that?”
“Are you asking us for our ideas, sister?” Dahlia inquired, shy and hushed.
“Or are you going to give us the answer yourself?” Rella concluded the other’s thoughts.
“I am not certain. But I believe that within the next few days, the answer will become apparent to us one way or another. The fabric weaves of its own will sisters, and the loom has caught us in its teeth for the moment.”
“Do you propose that we do nothing but wait for a sign, sister?” Jocasta asked.
“I propose exactly that. But I do believe that it is for Tamara to journey to Oleander and make what inquiries she may of the Lalas. It cannot be coincidence that she spoke the words that revealed the portent of the passage to begin with. The sign will come, whether dear Tamara returns with it in the form of an admonition from Oleander or whether it arrives on the wings of the wind itself,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster.
Emmeline cleared her throat, garnering the attention of the group.
“Are we in agreement then, sisters? Does anyone have an objection?” she asked.
No one disagreed with Bethany’s suggestion except for Tamara herself.
“Must I really go to the Lalas?” she asked in her high-pitched voice. “What will I ask it? What if it refuses to talk to me? Perhaps you should go after all, Violet. You are far more courageous than I am.” Her face was as red as a beet.
“I am certain that you will serve us well, Tamara,” Gretchen responded in a soothing voice, calming the nervous sister. “It is an honor you have earned,” she continued.
“Yes, yes. I know. I realize that. But must I go alone? To whom shall I talk on my journey?” she inquired.
The others all laughed at their sister’s words, lightening the mood momentarily. But of course, Tamara was in reality partially serious. She accepted the role bestowed upon her nonetheless.
“You should get a good night’s sleep sister, if you are going to walk all the way to Nevian tomorrow,” Rella said.
“As should we all, sister. We have had none too many of late,” Emmeline commented.
“This meeting is then adjourned, unless anyone has more to contribute,” Gretchen said as she rose from her chair.
Bethany spoke once again before anyone had a chance to depart from the great hall.
“Sisters. The Tomes were written many tiels ago. They have never predicted the future, but they have eternally shed light upon it. It has always been the responsibility of the interpreters to garner what useful information they offer, though,” she said somberly. She looked from one maid to another as if examining each circumspectly, hoping to discover something in their face or eyes. When she had circled the table with her gaze, she continued to speak. “We have a great responsibility here. We must determine just what we are to do with the map. It may well be that Oleander has no answer for us and that we must realize our purpose entirely on our own. I suggest that in Tamara’s absence, each and every one of us contemplate deeply. Perhaps the design will unveil itself before she even returns.”
“Let us all retire then and heed Bethany’s words. Times such as these require deep meditation. The First willing, in our hour of need one of us may provide sustenance,” Emmeline said in a hushed voice. “With the dawn, Tamara must depart and I assume that we will all be present to bid her farewell,” she concluded, and all the others agreed wholeheartedly.
As the sisters left the hall, Gretchen placed her hand upon Tamara’s forearm, signaling her to remain behind momentarily. When the others had gone, she spoke softly to the loquacious sister.
“I know that you have your doubts regarding your ability to discharge your duty here, sister. It is not unusual to be modest under the circumstances. Had I felt in my heart that our choice was mistaken, I would have said so immediately. You are the one, dear Tamara, who is best suited to converse with the great tree. You are thoroughly skilled in the art of communication and you have never hesitated to speak your mind. Your spontaneity is a gift. Perhaps it will help to shepherd you unwittingly in this, your most important endeavor,” she said.
“I had not thought of it that way, sister. But perhaps you are correct. Of course, I will do what I must,” she replied, with a new sense of confidence welling up within her.
“That is all we ask of you, sister. May the First guide you and keep you.”
“Thank you, sister,” she said, and then she walked from the great hall toward her chamber.