Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [165]
‘At least he is consistently revolting,’ Oyre said disdainfully. She and Vry took Laintal Ay into a corner and began whispering to him. It was essential that Shay Tal should not leave on the morrow; he must help persuade her to wait for the following day.
‘That’s absurd. If she wants to go, she must go. We’ve been over all this. First you will not leave, now you don’t want her to leave. There’s a world out beyond the barricades you know nothing about.’
She coolly picked a sliver of straw from his hoxneys. ‘Yes, the world of conquest. I know – I hear enough of it from Father. The point is, there will be an eclipse tomorrow.’
‘That’s general knowledge. It’s a year since the last one.’
‘Tomorrow will be rather different, Laintal Ay,’ Vry said, warningly. ‘We simply wish Shay Tal to postpone her departure. If she leaves here on the day of the eclipse, people will associate the two events. Whereas we know there is no connection.’
Laintal Ay frowned. ‘What of it?’
The two women looked uneasily at each other.
‘We think that if she leaves tomorrow, ill things may follow.’
‘Ha! So you do believe there is a connection … The workings of the female mind! If the connection exists, then there’s no way we can evade it, is there?’
Oyre clutched her face in exaggerated disgust. ‘The male mind … Any excuse not to do anything, eh?’
‘You witches will meddle with what is no concern of ours.’
In disgust, they left him standing in the corner and pressed back into the crowd round Shay Tal.
The old women still chattered away, speaking of the miracle at Fish Lake, speaking obliquely, looking obliquely, to see if their reminiscences registered on the preoccupied Shay Tal. But Shay Tal gave no sign that she heard or saw them.
‘You look proper fed up with life,’ Rol Sakil commented. ‘Maybe when you reach this Sibornal, you’ll marry and settle down happily – if men are made there as they’re made here.’
‘Perhaps they’re made better there,’ another old woman responded, amid laughter. Various suggestions as to improvements were bandied about.
Shay Tal continued to pack, without smiling.
Her belongings were few. When she had finally assembled them in two skin bags, she turned to the crowd in her room and requested them to leave, as she desired to rest before her journey. She thanked them all for coming, blessed them, and said she would never forget them. She kissed Vry on the forehead. Then she summoned Oyre and Laintal Ay to her side.
She clutched one of Laintal Ay’s hands in her two thin ones, looking with unusual tenderness into his eyes. She spoke only when all but Oyre had left her room.
‘Be wary in all you do, for you are not self-seeking enough, you do not take enough care for yourself. You understand, Laintal Ay? I’m glad you have not struggled for the power that you may feel is your birthright, for it would only bring you sorrow.’
She turned to Oyre, her face lined with seriousness.
‘You are dear to me, for I know how dear you are to Laintal Ay. My council to you as we part is this: become his woman with all speed. Don’t put conditions on your heart, as I did, as your father once did – that leads to inevitable wretchedness, as I understand too late. I was too proud when young.’
Oyre said, ‘You are not wretched. You are still proud.’
‘One may be both wretched and proud. Heed what I say, I who understand your difficulties. Laintal Ay is the nearest thing I shall ever have to a son. He loves you. Love him – not just emotionally, also physically. Bodies are for roasting, not smoking.’
She looked down at her own dried flesh, and nodded them farewell.
Batalix was setting, true night descending.
Traders came to Oldorando in increasing numbers, and from all points of the compass. The important salt trade was conducted from the north and south, whence it arrived often by goat train. There was now a regular track from Oldorando westwards across the veldt, trodden by traders from Kace, who brought gaudy