To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [39]
It’s because her own mama was taken her from her at her birth.” She let go of her wayward son and clasped her hands together, the image of piety. “Poor woman, she wasn’t in her right mind. That’s the only explanation any of us could find for the way she talked, denying the gods, clamoring for someone to take her to see the Na’amOberyin, spouting nonsense. Begging your pardon, but I’d wager that even in the lowlands you wouldn’t allow such license.” “Never.” Counsellor Troi lowered her eyes.
“Oh! Did such a blasphemer come from our lowlands?” Ambassador Lelys looked devastated by the possibility. “We are shamed.” She grabbed Data’s hands away from the few pitiful objects atop the wooden chest and exclaimed, “We must do something to atone for it!” “There, there, dear, don’t take it to heart.” V’kal’s mother forced her way into the already crowded hut and put her arms around Lelys. “There’s no saying where that poor woman came from. Stakis, that was her name. One day she was simply here, in Kare’al, dressed all peculiar and talking so very strange, ordering us to take her to the Na’amOberyin. Their holy place is only a day’s journey from here, you know,” she preened.
“Ordered you?” Lelys made a sound of disapproval. “The very idea! I cannot speak for all the lowlands, but in our village we do not conduct ourselves like that.” “Well, I never said you did.” V’kal’s mother sniffed and pointedly released Lelys from her embrace. “All we knew was that no self-respecting mountain woman would act so, so we just assumed she was from downslope, where the earth still shakes, sometimes.
They say that when that happens, there’s great cracks open up and evil vapors come out that leave people touched in the head. Anyway, no one would help her—we’d hardly go near her if we could avoid it—so she took off, swearing she’d find her own way there.
Maybe she would’ve, too, if she hadn’t taken a misstep on the road and broken her foot.
“It was N’mar found her, him as became Ma’adrys’s father. He brought her back here, to his own house, and looked after her when no one else would, and listened to her ravings kindly. He was a gentle spirit, and he healed her of most of her madness. When they were wed, she went through all the rites just as quiet and biddable as if she’d been one of our own. A shame he died without ever seeing his daughter born. That was a hard winter; there was a lot of sickness in the village, and not enough healthy hands to bury the dead, let alone tend the ailing.
N’mar said he would go over the mountain to ask the Na’amOberyin for aid, but his luck ran dry. He was caught in a snowslide, poor fellow. I remember how my good man heard the rumble and went out to see and found N’mar with both his legs broke under him but still with the living.” She paused for breath and sighed.
“Mother, that’s all ancient history,” came V’kal’s thin protest from outside. “Our visitors don’t care about—” “HushY” his mother snapped. She looked Troi steadily in the eye and said, “Would you have me tell this through to the end or not? No offense taken if you say no, I swear it by the Lady of the Balance.” Counsellor Troi opened her mouth to answer. Of course she would say yes. The information this woman was giving both confirmed and supplemented what they already knew, clear evidence that Ma’adrys had not lied to them about her origins. Yet before she could reply, she sensed a strange presence at the borders of her mind, a faint but distinct force that seemed to demand that she say: “We would love to hear what you have to say more than anything.” Now where did that come from? Troi mused.
“There,