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  The Price of Wisdom

  Shannah Jay

  Across the length and breadth of the Twelve Claims, the armies of the Serpent are massing. Their cult of evil and suffering threatens to spread throughout the Confederation. Discord is everywhere - even on the satellite circling the planet Sunrise.

  In the High Alder the Kindred prepare to make their stand. Only Herra's wisdom can defeat the Serpent.

  But can the Kindred afford the bitter cost?

  The Price of Wisdom was shortlisted for Best Australian Fantasy Novel, 1996

  Published by Shannah Jay

  Copyright 2010 Shannah Jay

  Cover Copyright 2010 David Jacobs

  Shannah Jay 2010 Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it , or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to annajacobs.com and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work.

  CHAPTER 1 POINT AND COUNTERPOINT

  Herra sat on the driving seat of the great wagon, listening with those other senses - senses so finely tuned by her years in the Sisterhood that she could sense the evil trailing her and her companions very clearly. But Sen-Sether, Lord Claimant of Setheron and leader of the Serpent cult, wouldn’t catch them today. He wouldn’t even try to catch them today, not until he’d found a way to overcome them. In their recent confrontation he had failed to do that.

  In a sense Herra had failed, too, for she hadn’t been able to defeat Sen-Sether, only to hold him off. But she’d at least won a little time by the encounter. The deleff who drew the wagons were now leading them along little-known tracks through the forests and wildwoods, away from Sen-Sether’s main forces. She’d half-expected the deleff to take them through one of the portals, which could transport both wagons and travellers across the Twelve Claims in as short a time as it took to walk a few paces. But the deleff had made no attempt to do this so far.

  There must be a reason. There was always a reason when the deleff did something, though it might be obscure to humans. Herra still couldn’t understand how these creatures had been regarded by her people only as draught animals for so many centuries. But perhaps the deleff had encouraged that. There was still a lot about them that no one could understand.

  Davred, sitting by her side, murmured, ‘Sen-Sether is still following us, isn’t he? Why does he not attack?’

  ‘He’ll choose his moment for that most carefully. At present he’s trying to find a weakness to exploit.’

  Davred sighed. ‘Will nothing stop that man?’

  ‘Nothing - save death or defeat, which would amount to the same thing, for he wouldn’t choose to live for even one hour beyond defeat.’

  Sen-Sether was as obsessed by his hatred of the Kindred as Herra herself was obsessed by the quest begun by the Sisterhood twenty thousand years before, a quest to gain Wisdom and Peace for their whole world. They now accepted men into their ranks and called themselves the Kindred of the God, but they were still following the same quest.

  A chorus of forest noises formed a counterpoint to Herra’s thoughts as the wagon continued to jolt along the track, ponderous and out of place amid the graceful fronds and flowers of this dappled green world. The rhythm of the deleff’s feet and the swish of foliage against the square canvas canopy formed a steady accompaniment to the rumbling of wheels, the creaking of wood and the low voices of the other people riding in the wagon. The wildwoods had become forest now, which meant they were approaching a human settlement. You could always tell, because the plants changed. Some of them, like the trellis vine, wouldn’t grow where humans passed regularly.

  Three people sat in the rear of the wagon - Alaran, who was one of Davred’s twin sons - Soo, who like Davred had come down from the satellite to join the fight against evil - and Ivo, youngest son of the trading family who’d rescued Soo when her transcap, a small flying vehicle, crashed.

  Herra and Davred were sitting on the driving bench, their usual spot, though why it was called a driving bench, Herra didn’t know, for deleff only pulled traders’ wagons if they chose to, and even then, they found their own way across the Twelve Claims without guidance from the occupants of the wagons, always seeming to know without telling where to go and when to stop.

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  She looked sideways at Davred and smiled. He was like a son to her, this solemn-faced Manifestation of their Brother the God. There was a sadness in his eyes just now, a sadness she couldn’t lighten, because their Quest had separated him from his wife Katia. For those two, Herra knew, that was like losing part of yourself. She’d never seen a couple bond so tightly or so quickly, for all the differences between them.

  In the back of the wagon, Soo was telling Alaran about life in the Galactic Confederation. To Herra it sounded dreadful: worlds without greenery where great machines ripped ore from below the ground and where people moved from one temporary settlement to another; societies which didn’t believe in love, only in reason and logic; societies which tried to make people into machines, disregarding their inborn Gifts; and societies where people lived for nothing but pleasure, any kind of pleasure.

  And yet, in spite of the elaborate technology of the Confederation, whose people considered themselves ‘advanced’ beings, violence was spreading across some of its worlds, too. It was everywhere, it seemed, like a creeping disease.

  Soo’s tales were fascinating to a young man who’d never left the planet and who very likely never would. Ivo Bel-Giff sprawled beside them, half dozing, half listening, adding the occasional comment or question of his own, shrewd comments, too. A large kindly young man, Ivo, who had been chosen recently to join the Kindred of the God. Herra smiled as her eyes rested on him. Already she was growing fond of him.

  The peace of the day was broken suddenly by yells ahead of them on the track. Davred jerked upright and Ivo swung down from the wagon, his eyes searching the greenery, his hand on his dagger hilt.

  Herra didn’t move, just frowned as she looked around. The deleff were still plodding along.

  Usually they were the first to scent danger, but this time they’d shown no unease. And she hadn’t sensed Those of the Serpent getting closer, either.

  When they turned a corner in the track, they found themselves in a huge clearing. The deleff pulled the wagon to one side and then walked out of the harness, ignoring the humans as they plodded across to munch on some shiverleaf bushes, their favourite food while travelling.

  Herra was already smiling. This was no ambush, only a group of youths, two of whom were yelling at one another and were on the brink of a fight. The others were so engrossed in the argument that they hadn’t done more than turn to check that the newcomers didn’t represent danger. The sight of a wagon drawn by deleff would have assured them of that instantly. Everyone in the Twelve Claims knew the deleff harmed no one, wouldn’t draw wagons for Those of the Serpent and wouldn’t willingly stay when there was danger and violence.

  Clearly this was an important argument. Even as Herra watched, the sturdier youth gave the slender one a shove that sent him sprawling.

  The deleff tossed their heads and grunted their disapproval, but continued to eat. Herra and her companions strolled across to the nearest group as the argument continued, the two protagonists yelling at one another, so blind with fury that they didn’t notice the newcomers.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Ivo asked the nearest lad.

  ‘Jiran won’t acknowledge Purvlin as leader
. He’s a fool, Jiran is.’

  ‘Why should that matter?’

  The lad rolled his eyes, as if Ivo were an idiot. ‘Because if we don’t stick together, we won’t survive. There has to be a leader! Purvlin’s right about that.’

  ‘Where are your families?’ One didn’t say parents when so many people had been killed.

  The lad’s face clouded, but he didn’t look at Ivo. He was watching to see whether the two would fight. ‘Working in the mines.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be with them?’

  ‘No, I shouldn’t! You don’t think our families are working there because they want to, do you?

  They’ve been imprisoned - those who weren’t killed, that is.’ He sniffed, his lips wobbling for a moment. ‘Before, miners used to work together and share the profits. Now they’re just used as slaves and it’s dangerous in the mines, because Those of the Serpent take no care for safety.’ His glance clearly showed he thought Ivo ignorant for not knowing that.

  ‘How did you avoid the mines, then?’

  ‘We ran away, my brother and I.’ He indicated an even younger lad jigging up and down and watching the yelling that had erupted into a pushing and shoving match again. ‘We found this place and Purvlin said we should organise ourselves properly, learn to fight, or else Those of the Serpent might catch us. Hit him, Purvlin! Make him listen!’

  Ivo watched the fighting for a moment, if you could call it fighting when one lad was trying only to defend himself and both were doing more shouting than thumping, then he decided this was doing no one any good and stepped forward. ‘Enough!’ When the two boys didn’t stop, he separated them, which he was large enough to do, holding them apart as they panted and exchanged further insults. ‘Be quiet!’ He shook them to emphasise his words.

  The watching lads muttered in annoyance.

  Herra watched with interest. She was still learning about Ivo and his Gifts. He was the first trader to join the Kindred and clearly he didn’t like uneven contests.

  ‘Mind your own business, trader!’ Purvlin was glaring at Ivo now, as well as at Jiran. ‘Let me go, will you!’

  Ivo kept tight hold of the lad’s arm. ‘It’s anyone’s business to interfere when they see an injustice.

  You’re far bigger than he is and if you go on fighting, you’ll hurt him.’

  ‘He needs to be hurt. We can’t afford to have someone here who won’t learn to fight properly.

  He’s like a girl, he is! Too soft to do anything.’

  ‘Fighting isn’t the only way to fight against the Serpent,’ Jiran said, wiping blood from his nose and wincing.

  ‘It is if you’re in our band. I’m the leader and you’ve got to do as I say.’

  ‘Well I won’t, not if you beat me to death I won’t.’ Jiran was swaying on his feet, but his lips were set firm in his thin face and one cheek was sporting a bruise.

  Herra judged it time to intervene and came forward, sweeping her eyes around the circle and somehow drawing their attention, as she always could, whatever the group. ‘How old are you lads?’

  ‘Fourteen.’

  ‘Thirteen.’

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  ‘Fifteen.’

  ‘Have you had a Festival of Choosing?’ she asked, following some hidden prompting.

  One or two of the spectators cackled with laughter. ‘There aren’t any of those now, lady.’

  ‘And a good thing, too,’ said Purvlin. ‘The Sisters didn’t know how to fight. That’s why Those of the Serpent took over. That’s why we have to learn to fight now.’

  Herra smiled. ‘Why didn’t you follow Those of the Serpent, then? You could get enough violence with them, if that’s what you seek.’

  ‘I don’t seek violence.’ Purvlin’s body slackened and Ivo let go of his arm. ‘I could never join Those of the Serpent. I don’t like the way they treat people. My mother’s a good woman. Why should she be whipped? Why should anyone be whipped?’ He paused for a moment, then added in a rough voice, ‘And they took my sister away. We never saw Vesha again. I won’t go into those shrines. I hate the smell of that incense. I don’t like having my brain go cloudy.’

  The other boys were nodding agreement with these statements, even Jiran.

  ‘You’re obviously boys of good sense,’ said Herra. ‘But I think you need a Festival of Choosing, to show who should be Elders. If you’ve been chosen as Elder, then others will have to acknowledge your inborn right to lead them and there’ll be no need for fighting.’

  Purvlin scowled. ‘What if I don’t get chosen?’

  ‘Do you believe in your ability to lead, or not?’ she countered.

  Jiran took a step forward, staring at her. ‘Are you a Sister that you know such things?’

  There was silence in the clearing. It was very dangerous to admit to being a Sister, almost as dangerous to be in the company of one. Herra smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, I am. Not all Sisters can choose people, but that’s one of my inborn Gifts.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Let’s have our own Festival of Choosing, here in the forest.’

  The boys exchanged uneasy glances.

  ‘We’ve got enough food on the wagon for a feast,’ offered Ivo.

  The boys all brightened. They looked hungry, Herra thought. Poor children! It must be hard living like this, and not all of them were old enough to hunt and forage, for there were several quite young lads in the clearing.

  ‘What about the festival wine?’ one of the taller boys asked. ‘You can’t have a Choosing without festival wine.’

  Ivo turned to Herra. ‘I’m afraid we’ve only got ordinary wine on the wagon, Elder Sister.’

  ‘I can turn it into something nearly like our traditional festival wine. Herbs which have the same effect as those we used to make the wine in the temples aren’t hard to find in the wildwoods.’

  The lads had gaped openly to hear him address Herra thus, but Jiran’s face lit up. ‘Are you really an Elder Sister?’

  Herra nodded.

  ‘Then it’d be a great honour to be chosen by you.’

  ‘Ha!’ said Purvlin. ‘ You won’t be chosen. Boys are only named as Elders. And who’d name a scrawny coward like you, anyway?’

  Davred came closer to Herra to murmur in her ear, ‘Is this wise?’

  She nodded. ‘Not only wise, but necessary.’ She could sense the rightness of her act, though she didn’t know where her Brother the God was leading her now. ‘We choose boys as well as girls to join us now,’ she told the group. ‘And we call ourselves a Kindred, not a Sisterhood.’

  ‘Boys can become novices?’ Jiran’s eyes were gleaming with excitement, his whole body as tense as a stringed instrument asking to be played.

  Herra laid one hand on his arm. ‘Indeed they can. Boys have Gifts which can help our quest, just as the girls do. But like the girls, they need training to use their inborn Gifts.’

  ‘If you find anyone suitable to join the Kindred here, what’ll you do with them?’ one of the smaller boys asked.

  ‘Take them with us, of course.’

  Davred was still worrying. ‘Into danger?’ he whispered.

  ‘Into whatever the God brings to us all.’ She turned back to the boys. ‘Are there any girls around here? They should join in the Choosing, too.’

  Purvlin nodded. He seemed to have forgotten the rage which had consumed him earlier. ‘They’ve got their own camp farther up the hill. In some caves. They won’t let us live with them, but they let us shelter in the outer cave when it rains. Shall I show you where they are?’

  ‘Yes. Take us to them. They, too, will need their Choosing.’

  ‘They don’t like us coming near them without reason. They threw rocks at us last time.’

  Herra smiled. ‘I don’t think they’ll throw rocks at me.’

  ***

  The girls were led by a young woman called Daranna. She was a plump competent person and had the younger girls well trained. When she realised who Herra was, however, the strong fa
cade slipped a little and tears came into her soft blue eyes.

  ‘Oh, how I’ve prayed to our Brother to send someone to help us!’ She fought for self-control.

  ‘It’s been so hard to know what to do for the best. We’ve been afraid Those of the Serpent would find us. It can only be a matter of time before they do.’

  ‘And what provision have you made for that?’

  Daranna stared at Herra. ‘Can you tell what people are thinking?’

  Herra chuckled, selecting exactly the right tone of voice to soothe poor Daranna, who’d been carrying too heavy a burden. ‘No. But I can guess what they’re likely to do, and someone as capable as yourself - ’

  ‘Do you really think me capable?’

  Herra gave her a quick hug. ‘Very capable, child.’ And so like Cheral, who had been Herra’s closest friend in Temple Tenebrak, as well as Novice Mistress there. ‘So tell me - what provision have you made to escape?’

  Daranna looked around to make sure no one could overhear then said in a low voice, ‘There’s an escape tunnel through the caves. We didn’t build it, but after we found it, we cleared out the parts

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  that were blocked. And there’s a place where we’re trying to work out how to cause the roof to fall behind us, so that we can block the passage again if we have to flee. But only a few of us know about it. And we haven’t told the boys. Boys can be so silly sometimes, and they shout things out when they get angry.’

  ‘Would you show me the tunnel?’

  ‘Yes, of course, Elder Sister. Now?’

  ‘I think so. We’ll tell people we need to talk and are going into the inner cave. I’ll set wards across the entrance to make sure no one follows us.’

  Daranna turned and led the way to the rear.

  ***

  By nightfall, Herra had all the candidates for the Choosing, those of fourteen and over, separated from the younger children. The offrants couldn’t wear the usual embroidered robes and tunics, which in normal times were kept by families especially for this coming-of-age ceremony. They were handed down from one generation to another until someone was chosen and since that person was taken away immediately by the Sisters to train in a temple, a new robe was then made with great joy and pride.