TRACED THE ZIGZAG SCARS

1563 4D

A few days later, as the understreet lamps dimmed to announce evening, Andrew gathered his friends, his son and his brothers and took the lift to the depths of Babiar. He put his hand on the liftcar door; it pulsed a faint vibration. Grendel.

Andrew leaned against the door for a moment, missing the big man and his crooked teeth. Ezzar and Engel stood next to him, with Rion and Jeddin and Cortevail packed in behind them, and Raul and Norwell jammed big in the corners.

“Did you really want to do this so soon?” Ezzar asked.

“Yes,” said Andrew.

The walk through the dim, bare, blue-lit understreet in Babiar took as long as the staged descent into the sea-pressure of the deepest City. The arched chamber entrance opened on the right; Andrew raised a chemtorch, and it painted a green veil of soft light on the walls and floor. Empty. A few bits of rubble lay here and there. He and Ezzar went in.

Ezzar stepped forward and knelt. “No. I though something gleamed, but it was just a bit of stone.”

“He’s gone,” Andrew said. He looked at the bare rough walls and the scattered stone fragments on the dusty floor. “I don’t even see tracks or traces. Maybe this is the wrong room. Maybe Onnhasshakh took him.” Ezzar stood up.

Faorhnin told us. This is the room. And none of us took his body. Turiosten had said nothing to Andrew during the long trip to this spot at the top of Babiar. Now she spoke gently in Andrew‘s mind. Do you want the sadness to go away?

Andrew murmured, “No. I want it to stay for now.” He turned to Ezzar. “Do you want to stay with me while I talk to Martin?”

Ezzar took his arm. “Aren’t you doing the Farewell?”

Andrew took a deep breath. He’d only wanted to bring out Martin‘s body. “I’d like to, but—“

“Would you like Jeddin and Rion to help you and your men stand the blood?”

This was unexpected. Andrew‘s heart lifted a little. “Do you think they would? I mean, nobody besides Hejji ever stood the blood for a Hejji.”

“Things are different now. They’re your cross-brothers. You know that.”

Andrew smiled at her. “It takes getting used to. Would you ask them for me?”

Ezzar reached in her boot and handed him her black-bladed knife. She went outside, and returned after a minute with Jeddin and Rion and Engel, and Andrew‘s brothers. Both Raul and Norwell looked upset.

“Rion wishes to defer to Ezzar and Cortevail in this,” Jeddin said. “They said to ask you if this is acceptable.”

Raul burst out, “It’s bad enough they’re not Hejji, but andros and women–“

“Did you fight beside them?” Andrew asked his brother.

“No, but–“

“Things are different now. The colls make peace. We are only affirming that.”

“Women?”

Rion broke in, with formal words. “Ezzar‘s blood has rained for you. Should it not guide us?”

Raul recoiled at the blood-phrase from one of the standing ceremonies. “It is hard. I am sorry I spoke.”

Andrew looked at each of them; his son had a tiny smile curling the corner of his mouth. Raul was right. This was not the way it was supposed to be, women in the ceremony of brothers; this broke tradition, the Hejji would… He looked down and smiled. The world had indeed changed, and he had changed with it.

“Let Ezzar stand in Rion‘s place,” he said, “but let Rion stand as the fifth brother.” Andrew rolled up his left sleeve. “Cortevail, join the circle; you are a sign of this change.”

“Martin‘s body is gone?” Norwell asked.

“Yes. Do you all know the Farewell form when the body’s vanished?” Andrew tucked the handle of the chemtorch in a wall crevice.

Ezzar, Raul and Norwell nodded; the others all shook their heads. As if synchronized, Andrew took his son’s arm, Rion took Jeddin‘s and Cortevail‘s, and each whispered brief instructions.

“Over here,” Andrew said, pointing. Reaching in his pouch, he fitted Martin‘s name ring on his own right little finger. He moved to where he had placed Martin‘s head, so long ago in a world since transformed; Jeddin and Ezzar stood where Martin‘s arms had rested. Andrew gestured Engel to stand facing him, where Martin‘s feet had been. Rion stood between Jeddin and Andrew, Cortevail between Ezzar and Andrew; Raul and Norwell flanked Engel.

Andrew raised the shining knife in his right hand, then brought it down slowly, pricking a vein in his left forearm. Blood welled out and flowed easily down over his outstretched palm to his fingertips. He wiggled his fingers, flicking the drops, black in the green chemtorch light, over the spot where he had laid Martin‘s body. He held his breath. Martin would be glad.

“I give you farewell, Martin, brother,” Andrew said. “Murder took your spirit from me, your body has vanished.”

“Find your way with new eyes,” the others said.

“Let my blood tell you the way,” Andrew said, handing the knife to Rion.

“Let the smell of my blood trace the way for you,” said Rion. He shed several spatters, passed the knife to Jeddin.

“Let my blood point you the way.” Jeddin pierced his own forearm as Andrew had done; black drops flew, mingling their spots with the others.

“Let the taste of my blood give you sustenance,” added Cortevail. She winced slightly at the cut.

“Let the colors of my blood fill your sight with hope.” Ezzar followed in her turn, smiling gently.

“Let my blood hold your hand and lead you on the way.” Raul. He looked up at Andrew, his face wrung with grief, and handed the blade to Norwell.

“Let my blood spell wisdom for you,” said Norwell, his head bowed. His tears glistened on the way to the floor.

“Let my blood carry you on the long stream,” Engel said, his voice hesitant, concluding the series. As with his father, the blood running down his forearm traced the zigzag scars Arlen‘s knives had left.

“We are brothers and sister for you,” Andrew said, taking the knife once more. “When our times come, be brother for us and help us on this way. Martin Denvirel Wranmar Luce Hejj Anassi, our brother in Hejji and Survivor and Arcus and Novander Wye Colls, farewell.”

The six men and the two women bent down, mixed the spatters of their blood in the dust, and touched their caked fingers to their lips.

What? Turiosten‘s voice leaped up in surprise. A man like you came to us in innerspace. He laughed, and then he folded into light.

The tension ebbed from Andrew. At last. But now he would have to travel to the mountains, and tell Varnell that her man was dead.

He fingered Leil‘s ring, reflecting. When they were in the mountains, he would sift the thick ashes from the ruins of their home, and he and Engel would make the ceremonies for Leil and the children. He put his arms around his son; for a few heartbeats they held each other.

They all turned and left the chamber, the blood stiffening black on their arms and clothing. Andrew cleaned the knife’s slick blade with a soft cloth, and returned it to Ezzar. “Thank you, my lady,” he said softly. “When you’re ready to stand for Grendel, I’ll stand with you.”

“And I,” said Jeddin. “And when you stand for Leil, Andrew, we will come.”

Ezzar‘s eyes filled with tears; she nodded twice, and slowly sheathed her knife. Andrew swallowed, hard.

The party moved back up the empty understreet. Their echoing boots wracked the silence in Andrew‘s heart.