Sephtis

11. Bones of truth.

The pelt is ashes by the time Morag returns, Horiki and Taaroko with her. She gives the priest a stool to sit on, for he is a respected visitor. Horiki pulls back the furs that cover the king so he can examine his foot. Droug wakes, and curses at him savagely, calling him every foul name under the moon and sun.

Horiki has set Droug's broken foot with clay, binding it solidly with sticks and thick leather strips, and placed heated stones around it to set the clay. Now he replaces the stones with ones newly heated from the hearth. Then he prepares more drugged ale, giving it to Droug. Horiki is one of the best healers on the mountain, highly ranked among all the death fairy clans. So when all is done that can be done I breathe easy, for if anyone can help the king, it is he. Horiki stands to leave and gives Taaroko a look full of meaning.

The priest, a tall, thin man in a long black robe stands up. Sacred charms from all of our gods hang from his hemp belt, and he wears a great jeweled cross about his neck. Tonight he carries a staff decorated with bones from those of the mortals down the mountain. The priest is not old, but he has an imposing look about him, and his wisdom is celebrated, more so then Horiki's skill of healing. Taaroko has taught us that the earth is a garden the gods gave to us. Our life's work is to tend that garden, to grow crops and fruit, and to look after the animals. In this way, we shall please the gods. Taaroko also foretells the future, and knows the secret doors to the under-land, where all our ancestors roam. By his rituals he can discern which days the gods favor the village in battle and which days they will not. Droug makes no important choice without his blessing and on the night of every full moon, accompanied by the priest, he sacrifices one of his precious goats to appease the gods. He holds Taaroko's word as the final law. Along with the village I honor the priest, but there is another power he has, an unearthly skill, that is not often shown to us. When he stands before me now, dark and tall against the firelight of the hearth, I am afraid.

"Stand Sephtis." He says, his voice is soft and gentle.

I do as I am told, but I avoid his eyes, instead I look at the cross about his neck, for it is the sign of the god I hold dear.

"Hold forth your arms child." He says, and I obey. He sees the scratches there, and he shakes his head slowly. Then he brandishes the staff over me, making the bleached bones rattle, and invokes the gods to protect us all. He then drops the staff to the floor between us, and it rolls against my feet. I do not like the unearthly coldness of the bones against my skin, and step back. The staff rolls against my feet again. I do not move, for fear.

"These are the bones of truth," Taaroko says. "If you speak falsely and try to deceive me, the bones will rattle out their protest and you will be found out. Search your heart carefully before you answer me. What are your beliefs child?"

"I-I believe...I believe that the greatest thing is mercy, and that force is not always right. I believe in the Lion and the Lamb, that we are beloved of him, and that every life-force is holy."

The priest nods solemnly, a frown creasing his high forehead. "And this village, Sephtis. Think carefully and answer honestly, what, think you, of this village and its people?"

"There are some here I love, the king, and the ashes of his past wife and I honor those pledged to us through treaty. I respect them all, because they sheltered me when instead they could have cast me out, or had me slain."

"But you never stopped thinking about wronging them did you, at getting back at those who you believed harmed you by putting you in your rightful place. Did you Sephtis? That is why you turned to the wolves, turned to the very creatures that our stories and songs warn of. Tell me the truth, do you not hate these people for treating you like the slave your curse foretold you to be?"

"No! That is not true at all!" In my distressed and frenzied signing, my whole body moves, and the bones jostle and chatter at my feet. I try to calm myself, to keep so very still. "I do not hate anyone." I sign, "Not a single one in this village, It is they who despise me."

"They despise you? They despise you, those who gave you shelter and food and clothing, and let you live defended and kept by them? You have a twisted heart cursed-one. The people of this village are noble and good. Their warriors are brave and strong, and in favor with the gods."

"I do not believe that a warrior is strong because he kills a child, or that he is brave because he torments a woman. The wolves are more just then that."

"So, at last we come to it." Says Taaroko. "The poison in you. Love for the savage, hate for the good."

"I told you, great priest. I have hate for none."

"Maybe so. But even your love is dangerous. You said you loved our king, but it is because of you that he was, last daylight, horrendously wounded. What kind of love is this, Sephtis? A love that wounds, that tears and destroys? I say it is a deadly love you have. A love fatally close to the wickedness of the wolves."

"Wolves are not wicked." I sign, though the rest of me is still, my heart is trembling.

Taaroko narrows his eyes as he listens intently, the bones are quiet. "There is only your word against the great truths in our stories and songs." He says. "Since time began, the wolves have been known for their cunning and trickery, and their evil ways. They have poisoned you, and you cannot see their wickedness. How many times have you gone to the wolves slave-girl?"

"Once."