The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [42]
After the last knell faded into silence, the Master rose from the floor and pushed back the heavy folds of the hood to reveal a man in the middle years of his life. The scalloped ridges of his forehead were plainly patterned, devoid of beauty yet not quite ugly; his skin was the pale shade of violet that marked him as a native of the southern hemisphere of the planet.
One by one, the members of the Gathering followed his example. When all of the Guardians had bared their heads, Kierad@an spoke in a deep, melodious voice that could reach every straining ear and fill it with honey. The only sound from the listening host was their soft breathing.
“Here is the story, as my grandfather told it to me …”
When I was a young man, newly initiated into our order, an offworlder came to my village to live. She was a tall woman with delicate, sweeping features and hair the color of ash; her dark eyes burned with the desire to learn the language and ways of our people. I had never seen her like before, and she said that she was the first of her race to set foot upon DiWahn; however, my elders among the Faithful knew her already.
At that time, I was still too young to have learned more than a half dozen Dreams, but Ikajad@an assured me that T’Sara was part of the Gem’s lore and that she was destined to become one facet of the Dreaming.
For weeks I listened as the Guardians debated their part in the Gem’s plan and how to fulfill it. Some among them said it would be sacrilege to even contemplate action, that such direct interference would actually disrupt the course of the Dreaming; others denounced this passivity, believing instead that the unDiWahn had been chosen to set T’Sara on the proper path.
In the end, the way was simple.
Ikajad@an invited her to attend the Tellings. There was no precedent for allowing one unsworn to the Faith to hear the Dreams, and T’Sara quickly sensed that she had been greatly honored. So night after night she joined me as we took our place in the circle of Guardians; and each night someone recited one of the Dreams recorded by our Iconian ancestors, although never one in which she had a part.
She listened patiently at first, then with a growing hunger that carried her through the entire winter.
On the first day of spring, Ikajad@an recounted the death of Iconia, and thus reached the end of the ancient lore. By this time, T’Sara yearned to discover what had become of Kanda Jiak’s Gem and to fully understand its powers.
Her restlessness drove her away from our world, but she was not lost to us. Always I knew where to find her, and those Dreams were the ones I never tired of hearing.
Kierad@an paused for breath, then said, “That is the end of my grandfather’s Telling, but the story does not end there.
“For many years, T’Sara sent word of her search to several of the unDiWahn who had tutored her. Then, one by one these Guardians grew old and died, until there was no one left among the Faithful who was known to her, and her letters stopped.
“My father took part in the Gathering that chose one of its number to leave DiWahn and seek her out.
Jaradad@an spent the rest of his life on this mission, wandering from one planet to another in T’Sara’s wake, always careful to keep out of her sight. His son was born offworld and continues the work of his father.”
Raising his hands high into the air, Kierad@an proclaimed, “Reyjad@an has this to say to us T’Sara’s seeking has ended; the Gem has been uncovered; and it is again time for the Faithful to take a part in the Dreaming.”
His words unleashed a storm of emotion from the Guardians. Shouts of joy mixed with the sobs of those moved to tears by the arrival of a day foretold in myth. Young and old, men and women, strangers and friends, all embraced each other as kin.
Kierad@an