Tales from the Goddess War Ch. 05: Matriarch

Bemere waited a few moments for her eyes to adjust from the dark of the burrow's passages to the sudden blaze of light. The Think here was no longer a background murmur. Individual voices could be made out, though the words themselves were stripped of meaning, blurred by resonance, and they swirled around her, almost a physical presence. When her eyes had adjusted, Bemere saw a most extraordinary space.

They stood at one end of a long, spiraling hall filled with a golden glow coming from the stone itself. The parabola of the walls soared overhead with ridges and folds in the stone that made it look more like the artifact of something living rather than a construction of stone. Along the walls were gathered the various races that made up the world of the Understone. There were small Hulzgrafn gnomes, mingling with the huge Plafakhi, the Greater Spiderkin, and the Aphostic elves. The sound of the multitude of voices was caught by the fantastic whorls, vaults and passages surrounding them. The resulting sound was not especially loud, but it filled the space completely and Bemere could imagine it testing their ears, wanting to fill the space in her mind as well.

"This is the source of the burrow's Think," Kaylie said quietly, lips nearly touching Bemere's ear to be heard.

"This be a large part, but not be the whole Think," Inzya said, watching as the other Law Wives carefully brought Twyla's litter through the door. "All voices make up the Think, large and small. Being hard to hear them now, but if listening hard enough...."

"Bemere, we have come to the Matriarch's Chamber," Gwyenth said. "This hall curves in on itself and in the center waits Khivu Ataphalis, along with her advisors and your accuser. It's very unusual for her to hold court here, a matriarch normally waits until she holds the allegiance of the entire burrow. That takes seasons, even years."

"And be naught normal about that one," Inzya grumbled. "Wish to Darkness that yellow hair's colors were already found. Be too late now."

"Bemere, we will walk along the center, with confidence," Gwyenth said in her ear. "No one will lay a finger on you here. But remember, Law is not something you would expect in the world above. It's more fluid, ritual mixed with debate and a sort of theatre as well."

"Hah!" Inzya said. "Not being anything like. Law is alive, being different to Think. Law is." She shifted into her native tongue for several sentences before her voice trailed off and she shrugged.

"To describe Think is work of many lifetimes. For now, we will go and help Law, make Think not be spreading the war-trouble."

Gwyenth and Kaylie in the lead, the little group walked into the hall proper. Bemere was next, walking beside the Hulzgrafn Law Wives that carried Twyla's sleeping form. As they were noticed, there was a ripple of silence followed by the hissing whispers of quiet exclamations and excitement. The reverberating echoes filled the chamber and tugged at Bemere's ears as the Think tried to fill her mind again. Looking over her shoulder, Bemere saw that the crowd had closed behind them, a mass of eager eyes, but none of them approached their circuitous path deeper into the spiral.

After a walk that felt much longer than was possible, they entered the presence of Khivu Ataphalis. She sat on a dais slightly taller than they were, surrounded by courtiers from every race in the Understone. Between them and the steps of the dais were a rank of hulking Spiderkin, bristling with various weapons.

When they were close, Raist emerged from the crowd of courtiers and came down the steps. He stepped through the guards, raising his arms in triumph.

"They are caught!" he crowed. "Yes! Caught and now held fast by Wives of Law, aided by our most noble Witnesses! This moon worshipping whore and her filthy mage now face the justice of our burrow. Brothers and sisters..."

"Be silent," Gwyenth said loudly. Her voice was calm for all its volume and pushed back the hissing whisper of the Think. "You intrude on the precedents of diplomats and envoys."

"Precedent? Precedent?" the Dark Elf shrieked. "Spying and murder, and intrigue have no precedent! Have the kingdoms of the noble Golden and rebellious Silver joined together in this outrage? Or has that debased slut entangled you in her murderous plots? Offered you her body, like any common..."

"Do you lack the means to control your tongue?" Gwyenth asked. "Allow me to assist you by nailing it to yonder wall with my blade. Or would you prefer that I remove it completely?"

There was a swelling of voices around them, angry protests, bloodthirsty excitement, a few hints of laughter. The Think surged back around them as the crowd of Understone folk crowded closer.

Khivu rose to her feet with a sudden shout that shocked everything into a moment of silence.

"It comes to me plain, we stand in Khivu's chamber!" she shouted, front arms slapping her chest. "If you are lawless vermin, then Think has finally driven away Law! Let the dance begin now and I shall gather such necklaces of your ears. We shall bring Law back to my burrow."

Whatever was going on, Bemere saw moment of complete shock on Kaylie's face. Gwyenth control betrayed no certain emotion but she was decidedly paler than normal. The sudden menace made Khivu's already whip-like voice into a scourge. The crowd around them was immediately quiet, broken only by scattered whispers.

Wherever she is, my mother is nearly ill with a mysterious paroxysm of laughter Bemere thought.

"Serah Gwyenth, does your oath as our Witness bind you still?" Khivu asked, voice abruptly pleasant once more.

Gwyenth bowed low. "It does, matriarch."

"How is it then that you bring a threat of violence to my chamber, in my very presence?"

Gwyenth stepped forward. "Matriarch, the true threat comes from your own burrow. An envoy, duly marked, is ambushed and taken by force, brought back to your burrow in chains. If the Ancient Treaties are so imperiled, I ask you to allow us to join your battle against this deadly barbarism."

"No, no, no!" Raist screeched, interrupting whatever the matriarch had been about to say. "Not an envoy, a secret weapon! It is sent here to destroy and kill, draped like an honored visitor. Raist alone saw through this! It was Raist who..."

"Your offer of assistance is most gracious, serah," Khivu said, talking over the elf. "And, as ever, this burrow accepts the friendship and cooperation of our neighbor races. So, allow me to satisfy your precedence with the promise of the inquiry I will conduct in due course. Your diplomatic precedence satisfied, we shall look into the plot that Master Raist has discovered among us."

"Matriarch, that is not an acceptable means to..."

Khivu's voice was like a whip "As you said, Witness; my burrow. You and Mistress Kaylie will join me as Witnesses to this matter as well."

Gwyenth glanced at Bemere for a moment. She could see the surprise and uncertainty in the High Elf's eyes but simply nodded once. The pair of Cloud Ghosts joined the group on the dais and the gnomish litter bearers, along with Inzya, withdrew.

"Serah Bemere, if you have sworn me a false oath, your diplomatic status will not protect you," Khivu warned.

"As it should be," Bemere agreed.

"Then you may proceed, Master Raist," Khivu said, still staring at Bemere.

"Firstly, whore, you will surrender your arms," Raist snarled.

He smiled as a small laugh ran through the crowd. He bowed slightly toward them and the laughter grew, quickly redoubling until it the mocking laughter was nearly a hand around Bemere's throat. Her fists clenched against another wave of nausea rising up.

Fuck diplomacy, I don't know the rules here.

After she had swallowed against her rebellious stomach, she managed a scornful look at Raist. "Firstly, houseboy, I am an Emissary of the Selenic Court, and am reckoned as a Serah by your betters. But I invite you to come and take my arms from me. Or is your sole talent the expertise of forgotten and meaningless grudges?"

Raist's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he sputtered, full of fury. However, he stayed in his place. The Think swirled around them, jeering and mocking laughter mixed with the outraged yells. Raist looked up, ignoring the building tumult. He seemed to be smiling slightly and Bemere felt a pang of unease. She laughed at him all the same.

"Shall I take your silence as my answer then? Matriarch, I am here to answer an absurd accusation. Was I summoned to listen to screeches and insults instead?"

"These accusations that include your companion, serah," she replied. "But your Human appears rather...well used."

Bemere didn't see the humor in her words, but Khivu's laughter joined the jeering merriment that filled the chamber.

"Khivu Ataphalis, what you see is the workings of your burrow. Whatever further insult this court assigns her, it offers your own shame and dishonor."

Bemere could see the sudden anger on Khivu's face. An angry mutter grew and surrounded her, but Bemere ignored everything, eyes locked on the matriarch.

"You are forfeit!" Raist screeched through the ugly sound. "Guilty, guilty, guilty!"

On the dais, Gwyenth said something to Khivu. She nodded and held up her arm. The laughter and cheers died away.

"The whore cannot answer, Matriarch," Raist laughed as he danced from foot to foot. "She has forfeited her defense! The slut proclaims her own guilt!"

"I am reminded that not every visitor here knows our Law," Khivu replied. "Therefore, she is not responsible for our covenants with Law. She is responsible for whatever crimes we may find here. Serah Bemere, you offer an accusation of your own, but your companion was taken during the rout of the Human invaders. Criminals have no honor."

Bemere thought. "Khivu Ataphalis, she was not taken with the rest of the invaders. I ordered her to retire as your judgment fell upon the Human army. She was fully clothed in the same colors and patterns that I wear right now. Instead of allowing her to pass, she was ambushed, beaten and drugged, chained, and taken. She was brought here and hidden from sight to keep this craven act a secret. While it is true that I do not know the intricacies and rituals of your Law, does it condone ambush of the innocent, and acts of war?"

"Matriarch, the tongues of the whore elves are incapable of speaking truth," Raist declared, eyes bright. "Let us now sentence this filth to eternal darkness!"

"Master Raist, you will allow her the space to speak. Serah, is your companion wounded then?"

"Yes, matriarch, although not grievously. She was dosed with the same breeding potion as the other prisoners. As we returned to your summons, we were repeatedly bombarded by yet more ambushes that used your own Herald as a weapon. Inzya Law Wife deemed it better that she be sent into sleep rather than risk her mind."

"Raist, is this true?" Khivu asked.

"My matriarch, the Moon Whores are known as despicable liars," the dark elf replied. "Where is this Inzya? Unless this filth presents proof, she spouts only falsehood."

There was an ugly undercurrent of whispers among the audience, the echoes building and filling the space.

"Enough," Khivu said after a few moments. "Mistress Anniak, she was affected by your concoctions. Can you undo the effects? And I would compel truth."

Anniak stepped out from the courtesans and bowed low. "I can wake her, but the physical effects of the breeding philter can only be slowed for a short while. I will administer a philter for truth-talking at the same time."

"Give it to them both!" Raist demanded and the titters and grumbled agreement filled the space again.

"Wake the Human," Khivu commanded. "Before we compel truth from the Selenic fae, we will hear what this one has to say for herself."

The beautiful Aphostic elf bowed low and came down the stairs toward them. Bemere stepped between her and Twyla's litter, putting a hand on her short-blade. Anniak stopped and from around them came a stir as the warriors tensed.

"Stand aside, serah," Khivu said. "She will not be harmed."

Bemere did not look away from Anniak and after a moment, the Aphostic elf stepped around her.

"Knife-in-the-Dark is not among us," she murmured in passing.

Confused, Bemere watched the Aphostic elf as she produced a vial and removed the stopper. It was waved under Twyla's nose. The mage coughed and after another breath of Anniak's potion Twyla sneezed and her eyes slowly opened.

"Why do people keep putting things up my nose?" she grumbled.

"Apologies," Anniak said, holding a vial to Twyla's lips. "Drink this, it will help a bit,"

After she had swallowed it, Twyla slowly sat up and looked around.

"What is your name?" Anniak asked Twyla.

"I am Twyla ap Tur. What's your name?"

The Dark elf laughed. "Pardon my rudeness. You may call me Mistress Anniak. Do you know where you are?"

Twyla frowned. "Bemere is here, we must be in the Understone."

Anniak motioned to Bemere and they both helped the woman to her feet.

"That's correct, Twyla ap Tur," Anniak said. "Matriarch, I would expect there to be far more confusion, but my knowledge of the philter's effects on Humans is incomplete. Her memory seems to be intact."

"I'm feeling better," Twyla whispered as Anniak returned to the dais. "Where are we now?"

"Twyla ap Tur, I present you to Khivu Ataphalis," Bemere said, half-turning her to face the dais. "She is the matriarch of this burrow."

Raist threw up his hands and paced around grimacing and making faces but Twyla didn't notice. She smiled uncertainly at Khivu and managed a wobbly curtesy before Bemere had to steady her.

"It is my very great honor...uhm, Bemere, do I call her majesty or highness or..."

"Khivu is enough, little one," the matriarch said, not unkindly. "Tell me of your home. Are you indeed a mage from the Pale College?"

"I'm no mage, but I was raised by the College. I am reckoned maestra daos because I never had the ability to call stone even though I understand the words. You see, I study the stone calling words, well, not really all of them though. I've been tracing the ancestral root of a certain class of words, it's called a dendriditic plotting, and there's this really interesting history of a subclass of a branch that..."

"Maestra!" Khivu interrupted, before Twyla's avalanche of words could completely take over. "You were given a philter to compel you to speak truth. Too much tends to make one overtalkative."

The matriarch tapped her lips for emphasis and Twyla nodded, hand going up to her own mouth.

"Don't fret, little one, it is not your fault. Now, if you could tell me how you journeyed here with your friend? Just the bare facts."

"Well, I was in Brynjarl Sands because their library is so incredibly old and has the oldest books in Tulamere. When I was done, it was time for me to go back to the Tower and Princess Madeline asked me to travel with Bemere to Grand Locks. But then Bemere met her cavalry friends and let me come along too. But then she was so angry that her friends were letting the militia come up here. It was a good trip, I met new friends, you see I've never been away from the Tower, so everything is new, and..."

Bemere nudged her and Twyla put the hand back over her mouth and then glared at her. Bemere gave her a tiny shrug in return.

"Mistress Anniak, if you'd note this for the philter's future dosages," Khivu said and Anniak bowed her head in response. "Twyla ap Tur, please continue."

"I was going back, like Bemere told me to. Then they were waving for me to stop and then someone knocked me off my horse! They were so mean! When I got up, one of them punched my stomach. I think I broke his nose before they knocked me down again. I hope so."

"You broke a Plafkhaki's nose?" Khivu asked and a titter ran through the audience.

Twyla giggled as well. "A giant? Oh, no. They were my size and looked like they were related to Bemere. That's why I was so surprised."

"Tell me about the battle yesterday. Why were you fleeing?"

"Bemere told me to," Twyla said. "She said that Spiderkin were coming and they'd smell me. I let our horses run until they calmed down and tried to get back to my friends. I was nearly to the river when I was attacked."

"Her wits are addled!" Raist screeched "This filth was taken with the other prisoners in the canyon. Where we found this!"

The Aphostic elf brandished Twyla's medallion and an ugly sound began to swirl around them, cursing, promises of pain, promises of death.

"Hey, that's mine! Your Maj...Khivu, that was torn off me in the attack. Look, you can see the mark right here on my neck. My maestro awarded it to me himself, and I want it back."

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Guilty!" Raist screamed, throwing his hands over his head as bloodthirsty cheers filled the chamber. Khivu did not move or speak, just stared across the chamber. The cheering slowly died away. The matriarch spoke in a low voice to a courtier and a moment later, someone handed her a long black knife, wickedly curved.

"You are my children and I will never threaten you," Khivu said into the silence. "Rather, I promise. That includes you, Law Reader. I dislike your constant interruptions. Now, Twyla ap Tur, do you remember being given a philter, some kind of potion when you were captured?"

"Yes, I started feeling confused. So, I entered a kyickmur before it could get worse."

There was an explosion of laughter and jeering, but genuine amusement as well.

Raist yelled over the top of it; "Lies and lies on top of falsehood! Do these misbegotten intruders even understand truth? Is the entire filthy race living in fantasies of their own choosing? They are as deluded as they are guilty! Shall we go up and teach them the way of the world?"

"You're the one lying!" Twyla's yell was impressive and pushed back the laughter. "I withdrew into the kyickmur named Anamnesis! That is the aspect of the ethereal perfume and gathered spirits, from the season of Waking Sun to the arrival of Red Moon!"

The Aphostic fae had stopped laughing and their counterparts fell quiet as they noticed. Twyla looked around the large room nervously.

"I thought it might help," she said into the silence.

"Didn't your college teach you that it's impossible for all of you simple minded Humans to even comprehend the valour?" Khivu sounded very amused now. "That exalted state is for the fae alone and closely guarded by their Divines."

"Well, no one told me that," Twyla said. "Anyway, whoever thinks that never met Bemere. She's the best teacher I've ever had."

On the dais, one of the Aphostic courtesans whispered to Khivu. After a moment, the matriarch motioned her forward.

"Here is an initiate of the valour, Twyla ap Tur," Khivu said. "Please grant her the polite candor you have shown me."

Twyla bowed slightly to the female elf facing her.

"Human, what are the ruling aspects of Anamnesis?" the elf asked, not returning the bow.

"The Light of Unity from Righteous Thought to Sacred Purpose," Twyla said immediately. "Guided by blessed remembrance of the path before. I guess that's why I thought of that one."

The elf of the dais narrowed her eyes. "And when you began your instruction you started with Anamnesis?"

"No, that wouldn't be possible," Twyla said, confused.

A triumphant look on his face, Raist started to say something but his mouth snapped shut as Khivu pointed the knife at him. Twyla didn't notice and kept talking.