Authors: Morgan Llywelyn

Etruscans (8 page)

BOOK: Etruscans

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Yes
, said the voice of the Prophet,
that is what you must do. Reach inside, feel the child.

Pepan obeyed. Neither of the two women on the bed seemed aware of the invasion, but the infant floating in its small, warm universe responded to his touch by opening its eyes.

Beyond the shelter, the stone circle began to hum.

The unborn child heard. Its eyes opened wider, looking upon scarlet and crimson tides as its tiny hands clutched at the mist of Pepan's fingers.

Do not move now, Pepan,
commanded the Prophet.

The cloud within the circle began to glow with a lambent green flame, while sparkling white fire shivered across the stones.

In his dreams, Wulv stirred and mumbled but did not awake.

The cloud contracted violently then expanded to cover the hut. Tiny emerald fires flickered over the carefully arranged branches. The air smelled of storm. A rushing wind howled through the primeval forest, whipping the trees until they groaned in protest, sending the forest creatures scurrying for shelter.

Pepan felt a great weight descend upon him, as if he had been floating in the river for a long time and just come out on land again. The weight pressed down unbearably, threatening to crush him though he had no body. Desperately he fought to remain upright and stay stillâuntil the weight flowed through him and his
hia
caught fire.

This he could feel. He writhed like the storm-tossed trees in an agony beyond description. His spirit was burning hotter than the forge, hotter than the sun, consuming him.

The essence of a people was raging through him.

And from him, into the woman and her unborn child.

Chieftain and warrior, craftsman and Planner and Prophet and all the generations before them poured along the conduit Pepan provided, emptying their knowledge into Vesi's womb.

The baby convulsed. Vesi sprang up with a shriek, clutching at her belly. “It's being born!” she cried. “It's being born now!”

FOURTEEN

A
s with a Dying, there were certain rituals that must attend a Birthing. The newborn
hia
required protection as it entered the Earthworld from a very different plane. It would take awhile before he or she learned the rules governing this new type of existence. But the more immediate problem was the danger imposed by malign inhabitants of the Otherworld.

Siu,
as well as corrupted
hia
who had never made their way safely to the Netherworld, were very aware of a newborn's vulnerability. While a mother was still in labor they crowded close, hoping to subsume the baby's spirit and thus acquire a being of flesh and blood who would obey their dictates.

If Vesi had given birth at home, midwives and
purtani
would have been with her constantly, caring for flesh and spirit. Protective symbols would be painted on her belly and on the special birthing stool handed down from mother to daughter. Priests would chant and burn
incense whose sweet smoke dulled the pain. Silver bells would ring to ward off evil spirits, while elsewhere in the
spura
young goats were sacrificed to lure them to other prey.

Instead she was alone in a crude hut in the forest with only her mother and a primitive Teumetianâand the combined wisdom of a hundred generations of Rasne.

As Pepan watched, Repana worked over her daughter. Wulv had been awakened by the girl's shrieks but was forbidden to enter the hut. “You would just get in my way!” Repana shouted at him.

Hurt, the woodsman sat on the ground outside and sulked. From time to time he flexed his callused hands with their dirt-rimmed fingernails and stared at them, unable to comprehend their uselessness in the current situation.

Pepan understood the impotence Wulv felt. All he could do now was defend the little family against the Otherworld predators already swarming toward the site.

The atmosphere had grown thick with demonic shapes.
Siu
hissed and growled, writhing obscenely as they advanced. Instead of bodies, in the Otherworld they displayed grotesque manifestations of their favorite vices. Some appeared as gaping mouths with slimy tongues and endlessly working jaws. Others were little more than oversized genital organs, throbbing with lusts that could never be eased.

Hia
were different. Many had never been embodied but existed as pure, crackling energy.
Hia
who had been corrupted by
siu
gave off a distinct smell of decay. They tended to stay close to their corrupters, basking in the sulfurous glow of concentrated evil.

As this hideous assemblage gathered, Pepan braced himself. He still did not know enough about the Otherworld to know how to fight them but was trusting to instinct. And the ancestors. But they seemed to be drawing back, pulling away.

From within the hovering cloud came the voice of the
Prophet.
The child is not without resources of its own,
she said.
Watch â¦ and learn.

When labor began, the infant had ceased to emit its characteristic tonal signal. For a time it was silent, all its energies focused on the convulsive struggle to escape the womb. The birthing was swift, but no sooner had the child emerged from Vesi's body than it sent out a new signal, a layered, complex chord of ineffable sweetness that rose and fell with its lusty cries.

The sound rang like a chime through the Otherworld.

The rapacious horde halted abruptly. A fewâthe older, more experiencedâeven turned back. The others milled around in confusion, snarling and snapping at one another but advancing no farther.

Pepan asked,
What happened? I do not understand.

A small part of each of us is now in that child,
replied the voice of the Prophet,
making him more powerful than any single member of our race has ever been. Demons and those they influence are destructive rather than creative. A lack of creativity means a lack of imagination. Without imagination they cannot encompass a new ideaâand this child represents a new idea. He frightens them.

Abruptly, the sound the child was making changed, becoming a deep growl that provided a startling counterpoint to the original sweetness of tone. The effect was disturbing; one by one the gathered
hia
and
siu
turned and melted back into the Otherworld.

What's wrong?
Pepan asked the ancestors.

Demon-song
, his father replied.
You did not tell us the infant was
siu-
spawn.
Although there was no inflection in his voice, Pepan could sense his anger.
We have gifted the offspring of a demon. My son, do you know what you have done?

Will you take back your gifts because of it?
Pepan countered.

The cloud roiled again. At last the Prophet spoke.
All things happen as they should. What we have given, we
do not reclaim. But although we return to the Netherworld, you are commanded to stay close to this child The gifts that burn within him must have every possible good influence to counterbalance the evil. He will have further need of you â¦ and so will our people.

Pepan turned away to hide his delight.
If it is my destiny â¦ then so be it
.

The voice of the Prophet darkened.
The threads of destiny grow very knotted, Pepan.

Beware
.

FIFTEEN

A
s soon as she was able, Vesi reached for her baby. Wordlessly Repana put the infant into her arms. The two women stared down at the head nuzzling Vesi's breast. Aside from a downy cap of lustrous dark hair, the infant looked like any other newborn, red faced and wrinkled. Vesi gave a great sigh of relief. “I was afraid â¦”

“I know. So was I. But he is no monster,” Repana added to reassure her daughter in spite of the lurking doubts she herself still harbored. “You have given birth to a healthy boy who looks as normal as any other.” She didn't add that she had checked the babe for additional fingers or toes and its spine for a tail.

As if to prove her words, the infant opened his mouth and gave a lusty bellow. Both women laughed. “Little man,” Vesi murmured fondly. “My little man.”

“Men need names. What will you call him?”

“I do not know, Mother. There are no
purtani
to take
the auguries, so how am I to know what sort of name he needs?”

“You must give him a name of your own choosing then.”

Vesi blinked.”That is too great a responsibility. Names have so much power over those who bear them. What if “I choose wrong and do him

Unseen, Pepan bent over them. The girl feared the responsibility but he did not; he knew what name the child should have. With all his strength he tried to shout it loud enough so she could hear.
Hora Trim!

But his strength was not enough. Though the shout resonated throughout the Otherworld, Vesi barely heard a whisper. She turned her head quickly, eyes wide. “Was that the wind?” she asked her mother.

“I heard nothing. There was a storm earlier but it is over now.”

Hora Trim!

Vesi shivered. “There is a draught here.”

HORA TRIM!

Abruptly Vesi smiled, lips moving as she formed words. “Hora â¦ trim.” She looked up at her mother. “I will call my son Horatrim.”

Repana raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Meaning spirit of heroes?”

“Is that not a perfect name for a little boy?”

As she gazed down at the child, Repana was not so sure. His Rasne forebears were undoubtedly heroic, but the infant's sire was very different. Yet perhaps Horatrim was a good choice. “Such a noble name just might help counteract the influence of the
siu
,” she told Vesi.

At the mention of the
siu
the young woman stiffened; her eyes became distant and glazed. “No demon had anything to do with my son. Nothing, I tell you!” Her voice rose shrilly, startling the baby, who began to cry. Vesi's eyes were wide and wild. She was as brittle as
glass, threatening to shatter at the slightest blow. Her mother feared she might lose her mind.

“Of course, my child,” Repana hastily agreed. “I am simply weary and made a foolish slip of the tongue. I meant to say the name would protect your son against any demons he might encounter when he is older. It is a good name, a fine name. Rest now. You have done well.” She stroked Vesi's forehead and murmured soothingly until both mother and infant grew calmer.

But long after Vesi fell asleep, Repana was still trembling.

The physical attack must have been terrible indeed,
she thought
, but to relive it unbearable. I have to be careful with Vesi. We must find a safe place to raise the child where no one will mention its origins and bring the memories flooding back.
Repana realized they could not return to their
spura.
Even if Pepan had succeeded in getting the others to forgive them, there was always the danger someone would say something.

When Repana announced to Wulv that the baby was alive and well, he was eager to see the infant at once. But Repana discouraged him; she was uncomfortable with the idea of allowing the woodsman too near a new baby. “They're both sleeping,” she said. “There is something you can do, however. We will need moss for diapering, can you find some?”

Wulv looked almost insulted. “Some? How much do you want?”

“As much as you can carry,” Repana said with a hint of a smile.

Delighted to be of use, he set off at once and soon brought back not only moss but a freshly snared rabbit for Vesi's dinner. “Meat makes milk,” he assured Repana as he showed her his prize at the entrance to the hut.

“I suppose you have a great experience of nursing infants?” she remarked sarcastically.

He took no offense. “Hunters have to be observant. I
have seen what the women in my tribe do. I have watched the beasts of the field feed their young.”

Repana bit back an angry retort. “My daughter is Rasne, which of course means she has delicate sensibilities,” she said firmly. “Vesi prefers fish. White fish.”

“This deep in the forest she had better eat what she can get. We're not on the banks of the Tiber now. When you go home you canâ”

“We will not be going back to our
spura.
Even â¦ even if the Lord of the Rasne sends for us himself.”

Wulv stared at Repana. “But I thought â¦”

“Our lives there are over.”

“Then where will you go? You can't stay here forever. The forest is full of dangerous beasts who won't respect the sanctuary of the stones. And I can't protect you night and day; I have to sleep sometime.”

“Are you saying you would abandon us?”

“I am not. I gave my word to the Rasne lord. I may not have much, but I have my honor.”

Repana nodded. “We will rely upon it then. Pepan recognized your quality and I trust his judgment. But tell me, Wulvâyou have a home elsewhere, do you not? Someplace safer, where we could go?”

“I can't take you there.”

“Why not?”

“It's â¦ well, it isn't much of a place, nothing like I'm sure you're used to. There's a hut like this one only bigger and made to stand winter weather. It's part of a compound with a shed for storing hides and a smokehouse for fish, all on an island I built up in the middle of some swampy ground that floods a lot. In fact, my home is usually surrounded by a lake. People leave me alone there, which is the way I like it.”

Repana clapped her hands together. “It sounds perfect!”

Wulv was disconcerted. But before he could think of a way to discourage them, he heard a voice. Not a human
voice, it sounded more like the soughing of the wind through the leaves, yet it spoke in clearly distinct human syllables.

Take them
.

Wulv grabbed his knife and glanced wildly around. He saw only Repana, the hut, the circle of stones, and the forest beyond. Yet with a hunter's infallible instinct, he was aware of another presence. He touched the bear's claw amulet on his belt. This was indeed a cursed place.

Take them
, the voice repeated.
Whatever Repana wants, you must do. Your future lies with them.

Wulv had to fight back an almost overwhelming desire to throw himself on the ground and do worship. Surely one of the gods was speaking directly to him. In the memory of his tribe, such a thing had never happened to one of the Teumetes before. He was simultaneously terrified and elated.

“What is wrong with you?” asked Repana. “The color has left your face.”

You must take them with you,
insisted the implacable voice.

“I will. Oh, I will!”

Repana was perplexed. “You will what?”

“Take you to my home as soon as your daughter can travel. That's what you wanted, isn't it?”

She gave him a hard look. But just then Vesi called to her, and forgetting everything else, Repana ducked inside the hut.

Once more Wulv swept his eyes around the glade. There was nothing noteworthy, only the sentinel stones standing their eternal vigil. A bird's cry drew Wulv's attention upward. Although the sky was a delicate eggshell blue, a gathering of clouds portended rain. One in particular puzzled him. Its shape changed so swiftly. One moment it looked like soft billows of foam, the next it resembled rugged mountain peaks. As Wulv watched, the mountains became an army marching away into the distance.

From the Otherworld things looked different.

Wulv, the hut, even the circle of stones were to Pepan no more than misty and somewhat indistinct shapes. The cloud, however, was very solid.

Pepan,
intoned the voice of the Prophet,
we must go now.

What will happen to me if I stay here?

You are vulnerable in the Otherworld, Pepan. A
siu
could contaminate your
hia
, making you one like them. It would be a great pity to see such a noble spirit corrupted. Your ancestors would grieve; our happiness in the Netherworld would be marred.

But I cannot die?

No,
his father's familiar tones replied
, you cannot die. Only flesh can die, and you are done with that.

Then I will watch over the women and the infant all their lives. I am strong, stronger than any demon.

The hovering cloud darkened.
You are also overconfident,
proclaimed yet another voice in accents he could hardly understand
. I was like you once, a thousand years ago. But you will learn, Pepan. We all learn
.

With a mighty roar the cloud turned an inky purple and began to twist into a giant knot. The roar increased. The cloud convulsed, folding in upon itself. Abruptly came a sound like the boom of a monstrous drum and the knot unwound into a long, thin rope the color of spring violets, stretching all the way from the circle of stones to the horizon.

The sky shimmered with rainbows.

The air smelled of the distant sea.

A hush fell upon the Otherworld.

As Pepan watched, the violet rope grew thinner and thinner until only one filament remained. Then that too was gone and he was alone.

Alone in a way he had never been before.

Within the hut, the baby began to cry.

BOOK: Etruscans

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