The Awakeners: Northshore & Southshore

  ‘She wanted to free the slaves. She wanted to stop the workers. She was a saint,’ he muttered.

  ‘There are those who say so now. There are those who will say so,’ Lila whispered. ‘What is a saint? Delia was a saint.’

  ‘You’re saying she never could have loved me!’ he cried, angry at this in the dream, though he knew it was true.

  ‘I’m saying you never should have loved her,’ Lila said, her voice somehow changed into something remote and terrible. ‘For she was like the blight, a terrible thing that kills …’

  ‘And preserves,’ whispered Thrasne in his dream.

  ‘And preserves,’ whispered Lila as the dream whirled about him, giving way to the sounds of the River, the soft, eternal sluff of water.

  He woke then, the dream at first clear, then fading from his mind. Medoor Babji lay heavily beside him, her cheek flushed and warm where it had rested against his own. He rose without waking her and went out of the owner-house onto the deck. In the dawn light the Island of the Dead loomed to the south, mist and tree behind mist and tree and yet again, mist and tree to the limit of sight, with the blessed ones – for so he now called them in his mind – the blessed ones moving slowly in the mists, like swimmers. There on the water the strangeys danced, calling to one another in their terrible voices, and among them their young sported themselves, standing winged upon the waves.

  One of these came very close to the ship and looked up at Thrasne with eyes that seemed somehow familiar.

  ‘Thrasne,’ it said to him in a bubbling voice. ‘Kesseret is here, Thrasne. And Tharius Don. They have been given the time we created for them. They live. You live, too, Thrasne. And come to us.’ It sank beneath the flowing surface, its eyes still fixed on Thrasne’s face.

  There was a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Come,’ said Medoor Babji, her dry and watchful eyes on the waves where the strangeys danced. ‘Let us go on to Southshore, Thrasne. This is not the place for us.’

  He heard the rattle of the anchor tackle, the call of the sailors as the sails were raised. On the shore of the island, one of the blessed raised its hand to wave. Tharius Don? Too soon for Tharius Don. Someone else. Bending across the rail, Thrasne let a few tears come and fall and wash away the last of whatever thing there had been tight inside himself.

  And then he stood to take Medoor Babji’s hand and nod acceptance. ‘To Southshore.’

  31

  As they sailed on into the south, Thrasne rigged a chair over the bow and laboriously chiseled away two of the three words that had been carved into the prow of the ship. The Gift of Potipur became simply the Gift. The winged figure that had leaned into the wavelets of the River for decades was replaced with another carving, one that Medoor Babji called, only to herself, ‘Suspirra in ecstasy,’ taking comfort in the fact that Thrasne had carved it, for it was not a face or figure any living man would lust for. It was Pamra’s face, but a face beatified, glorious, and inhuman, the face of a departing spirit. Before her in her wooden hands she held the gift, a strangely shaped being that might have had either wings or flippers and was carved as though eternally poised to drop into the waters below. Tharius Don, before his death, had told Thrasne about Lila as he had seen her, Lila transformed, the child of the strangeys.

  On a calm and starry night when there were no moons, the child was born. When it had been cleaned and wrapped and laid in a blanket, Thrasne stood by the basket and the baby grasped his hand, curling infant fingers around one of his own in a gesture as old as time and demanding as life itself. ‘Mine,’ said Thrasne wonderingly. ‘This is mine.’

  ‘Ours,’ said Medoor Babji firmly. ‘He belongs to us, and to the Noor.’

  ‘And to the Gift,’ said Thrasne stubbornly. ‘And to Southshore.’

  ‘That, too. I pray we find good fortune there, for our ancestors alone know what is happening behind us.’ She reached for Thrasne’s other hand. The birth had been more than she had expected; more in the way of pain, of effort, and of fulfillment when it was done. It was time to say. Time for words. ‘And what of the baby’s mother, Thrasne? Do you claim her, too, or only the child?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said, suddenly surprised that it should need saying. ‘Oh, yes! She, too, is mine if she will be.’

  ‘And Suspirra?’

  He shrugged, rather more elaborately than the question warranted at this stage, but he needed to be sure that both of them understood what he meant. ‘At the prow of the Gift, Doorie. Where dreams are put. That was a different thing from this.’

  She was content, and Queen Fibji, hearing this exchange from outside the door, sighed a great sigh of relief.

  They had come to the baby’s tribal day, that day on which he was to be given a name, when the hail came from the steering deck. They thought it might be only another island and sent someone scurrying up the mast to spy out the cloudy land. He came back down to say there was no end to the land he could see, not south nor east nor west, but ahead of them were white beaches and a great, towering smoke. They gave up any thought of ceremony then, preferring to crowd the rails for the earliest glimpse of the new land.

  By the time dusk came they had anchored in a shallow bay rimmed with pale dunes. On the beach were three boats that Thrasne recognized, and scattered across the dunes were the tents of many earlier arrivals. High above them to the west was a towering scaffold bearing a clay firefox, and in this a great beacon burned, smoke rolling above it as from a chimney.

  Some of those aboard the Gift splashed into the water and swam ashore while others plied to and fro on hastily rigged rafts. The Cheevle bore Queen Fibji, Medoor Babji, Thrasne, and the child, with Strenge plying the rudder as they ran the little boat up on the sand. The Noor crowded around, not too closely, making obeisance, pointing at the child, who regarded them with wide, wondering looks from his not altogether Noorish eyes.

  ‘Let me see this land,’ the Queen called, waving them aside as she staggered toward the tops of the dunes to peer inland, seeing there a vast prairie of grass and scattered copses in the light of the moons.

  Thrasne came up behind her, one arm around Babji’s shoulders, the baby in the other. From behind them, far down the beach, came a hail, and they turned to see another ship against the darkening sky, and beyond that one still another.

  ‘The Noor are gathering. On Southshore,’ said the Queen. ‘We have made landfall. All my hopes, Doorie. All my hopes. I feel – oh, I feel I might die now, knowing the best thing I could have done is done.’

  ‘Do not talk of dying,’ said Thrasne, shaking her by one shoulder, much to her astonishment, for the Noor did not presume to touch their Queen. ‘There is much planting to do if all this mob is to be fed, and who will see to that if not you?’ He sounded, she thought, really angry at her. ‘And this one is a month old today and still has no name. Who will name him if you go dying?’

  ‘Ah, babe, babe.’ She laughed, half crying as she turned to take the child. ‘Your father speaks the truth. You have no name.’ She held the baby high so he might peer away, as she did, toward the wide plains before her and the nearest line of hills. She wondered what mysteries would lie behind them, for it was sure that something wonderful awaited, just beyond the horizon. Then she turned to look into Medoor Babji’s eyes, full of trust and pain, wonder and joy intermixed, then to Thrasne’s craggy face, which held the same mixture of feelings. So they stood for some time, regarding each other without speaking.

  ‘I name this child Temin M’noor,’ she said at last, passing him into Thrasne’s keeping as she moved away from them down the hill. ‘Temin M’noor,’ she called again, her voice like that of a shore bird, hunting.

  ‘What does it mean?’ Thrasne asked, thinking he had heard the words somewhere before.

  Medoor Babji was smiling at him, holding out her arms for the child, her eyes swimming with tears.

  ‘Temin, which is to say a key, and M’noor, that which is spoken …’

  He did not understand, and sh
e explained it to him. ‘We have given him to one another between our worlds, Thrasne.

  ‘His name is Password.’

  If you've enjoyed this book and would like to read more great SF, you'll find literally thousands of classic Science Fiction & Fantasy titles through the SF Gateway.

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  Also by Sheri S. Tepper

  Land of The True Game

  1. King's Blood Four (1983)

  2. Necromancer Nine (1983)

  3. Wizard's Eleven (1984)

  Marianne

  1. Marianne, the Magus and the Manticore (1985)

  2. Marianne, the Madame and the Momentary Gods (1988)

  3. Marianne, the Matchbox and the Malachite Mouse (1989)

  Mavin Manyshaped

  1. The Song of Mavin Manyshaped (1985)

  2. The Flight of Mavin Manyshaped (1985)

  3. The Search of Mavin Manyshaped (1985)

  Jinian

  1. Jinian Footseer (1985)

  2. Dervish Daughter (1986)

  3. Jinian Star-Eye (1986)

  Ettison

  1. Blood Heritage (1986)

  2. The Bones (1987)

  Awakeners

  1. Northshore (1987)

  2. Southshore (1987)

  Other Novels

  The Revenants (1984)

  After Long Silence (1987)

  The Gate to Women's Country (1988)

  The Enigma Score (1989)

  Grass (1989)

  Beauty (1991)

  Sideshow (1992)

  A Plague of Angels (1993)

  Shadow's End (1994)

  Gibbon's Decline and Fall (1996)

  The Family Tree (1997)

  Six Moon Dance (1998)

  Singer from the Sea (1999)

  Raising the Stones (1990)

  The Fresco (2000)

  The Visitor (2002)

  The Companions (2003)

  The Margarets (2007)

  GLOSSARY

  Significant Individual People

  Arbsen: One of the Treeci of Isle Point, Saleff’s sister, Taneff’s mother.

  Binna: One of the Treeci on Strinder’s Isle.

  Blint: Owner of the Riverboat the Gift of Potipur.

  Bormas Tyle: Chancery official, Deputy Enforcer to Tharius Don, conspirator with Shavian Bossit.

  Burg: A human resident of Isle Point.

  Chiles Medman: Governor General of the Jarb Mendicants. A frequent visitor at Chancery.

  Delia: Nanny to Pamra Don, called Saint Delia by the townsfolk of Baris.

  Drowned Woman, the: The drowned wife of Fulder Don, taken from the River in a blighted state and kept by Thrasne. Her given name was Imajh.

  Eenzie the Clown: Member of a group of Melancholics to which Medoor Babji belongs.

  Esspill: A flier, blown by storm to an island far in the River.

  Ezasper Jorn: Ambassador to the Thraish; member of the Council of Seven in the Chancery, Conspirator with Koma Nepor.

  Fibji: Queen of the Noor.

  Fulder Don: A man of the artist caste in the town of Baris. Father of Pamra Don.

  Gendra Mitiar: Dame Marshal of the Towers, member of the Council of Seven in the Chancery. Conspirator with Ezasper Jorn.

  Glamdrul Feynt: Master of the files in the Bureau of Towers, Chancery. Conspirator with Shavian Bossit.

  Haranjus Pandel: Superior of the Tower in Thou-ne.

  Ilze: Senior Awakener in the Tower of Baris, mentor to Pamra Don. Becomes a Laugher.

  Jhilt: Noor slave of Gendra Mitiar.

  Jondrigar: General Jondrigar, member of the Council of Seven in the Chancery; leader of the armies of the Protector.

  Joy: Surviving resident of Strinder’s Isle.

  Kesseret: ‘Kessie’, ‘the lady Kesseret’, Superior of the Tower in Baris.

  Koma Nepor: Director of Research, member of the Council of Seven in the Chancery.

  Lees Obol: Protector of Man, member of the Council of Seven in the Chancery.

  Lila: The slow-baby. Born from the drowned woman.

  Martien: Musician, close friend and follower of Tharius Don.

  Medoor Babji: Daughter of Queen Fibji; chosen heir of the throne of the Noor.

  Murga: Wife of owner Blint. Called Blint-wife.

  Neff: A young male Treeci living on Strinder’s Isle.

  Obers-rom: Thrasne’s trusted assistant, first owner’s man after Thrasne takes over the Gift of Potipur.

  Pamra Don: Awakener in the Tower of Baris, who leaves the Tower to begin the great crusade.

  Peasimy Flot: Resident of Thou-ne, childlike adult son of the widow Flot. Follower of Pamra Don. Also called Peasimy Prime.

  Prender: Half sister to Pamra Don.

  Raffen: A Riverman in the town of Zephyr. Second husband to Murga, Blint-wife.

  Saleef: A Treeci talker, resident of Isle Point, brother of Arbsen and son of Sterf.

  Shavian Bossit: Maintainer of the Household; member of the Council of Seven in the Chancery.

  Shishus: A semimythical typical flier of the past, used as an eidolon for young Talkers.

  Sliffisunda: A Talker of the Sixth (highest) Degree among the Thraish.

  Slooshasill: A Thraish Talker of the Fourth Degree, blown by storm to an island in the River.

  Sterf: A Treeci resident of Isle Point, mother of Saleff and Arbsen.

  Stodder: Resident of Strinder’s Isle.

  Strenge: Favorite consort of Queen Fibji.

  Suspirra: The idealized woman of Thrasne’s dreams. A carved image of that woman.

  Taj Noteen: Leader of a group of Melancholics to which Medoor Babji belongs.

  Taneff: Young male Treeci, resident of Isle Point, son of Arbsen.

  Tharius Don: Propagator of the Faith; member of the Council of Seven in the Chancery. Ancestor of Pamra Don. Leader of the cause.

  Thoulia: Semimythical ‘Sorter’, the Talker who first discovered the efficacy of the Tears of Viranel.

  Thrasne: Third assistant owner’s man aboard the River-boat the Gift of Potipur. An orphan, adopted by the owner, Blint. Later owner of the Gift.

  Threnot: Servant to Kesseret.

  Werf: One of the Treeci on Strinder’s Isle.

  Groups, Places, and Things

  Abricor: Male, second god in the Thraish trinity. Also the second-largest moon.

  Awakeners, the: Religious order living in the Towers who oversee disposal of the dead.

  Baris: Township. Homeplace of Pamra Don, Tharius Don, and the lady Kesseret.

  Blight, the: A fungus living in the World River that seems to turn living flesh to wood.

  Boatmen: Those who make their living on the boats that travel westward on the World River. Merchants. Not to be confused with Rivermen, q.v.

  Chancery, the: The administrative center of Northshore, including the offices, buildings, and bureaucracy, located at Highstone Lees, behind the Teeth of the North.

  Direction of Life, the: Movement to the west, as the sun, tides, and moons move. Movement to the east is considered antilife and forbidden.

  Flame-bird: A species of Northshore bird that sets its nest afire in order to hatch its eggs.

  Fliers, the: Ordinary – nontalker – members of the Thraish.

  Gift of Potipur:Riverboat belonging first to Blint, then to Thrasne.

  Glizzee; Glizzee spice: euphoric substance of pleasant flavor, provided by strangeys, sold in the markets as a food additive.

  Highstone Lees: The name given to the Protector’s palace, as well as the Chancery offices and residence grounds in the lands behind the Teeth.

  Holy Sorters: Those human or superhuman creatures who sort the dead into categories of worthy or unworthy.

  Isle of the Dead: Any one of many islands to which the Strangeys bring blighted humans.

  Isle Po
int: An island of mixed Treeci, human population in mid River.

  Jakes Island: An island of mixed Treeci, human population in mid River.

  Jarb Houses: Places of residence set up by the order of Mendicants for the treatment and housing of madmen.

  Jarb Mendicants: Madmen enabled to see the truth by smoking Jarb root; visionaries; oracles.

  Jarb Root: A food root often eaten by the Noor whose toasted peel contains an anti-illusory drug.

  Jondarites: The military personnel under the command of General Jondrigar.

  Laughers: Pursuivants and inquisitors sent from the Chancery to find heretics in Northshore.

  Light Bringer, the: The name given to Pamra Don by the crusaders, particularly by Peasimy Flot. Also, ‘Mother of Light’.

  Melancholics: Wandering pseudoreligious bands of the Noor who collect coin for the Queen of the Noor in the cities of Northshore.

  Noor, the: The black people of the northern moors, from whom the Melancholics come.

  Northshore: That area of land immediately to the north of the World River which is occupied with separated townships.

  Pamet: A fiber crop in which armlong pods open to reveal sheaves of white strands used in making cloth.

  Potipur: Chief god in the Thraish trinity. Also the largest moon.

  Priests of Potipur: Awakeners assigned to Temple duty, distinguished by blue-painted faces and mirror-decked garb.

  Progression: The circumnavigation of the planet done once every eighteen years by the Protector of Man. Ship of the Progression: the gilded and highly ornamented ship on which this journey is made.

  Puncon: A spicy fruit, most often used in jam and confections. The bloom of the puncon tree.

  Rivermen: A heretical group who put their dead in the River.

  Servants of Abricor: Another name for the fliers who frequent the bone pits. The Thraish.

  Shorefish: Derogatory term used by the Noor to describe the non-Noor inhabitants of Northshore. Term also used by the Talkers to describe all humans. The implication is of a thing which can be easily caught or eaten.

  Song-Fish: A shallow-water fish that grows to great size and which sings in the evenings and early mornings, the pitch and tempo dependent upon the size of the fish (smaller fish having higher, more frequent tonal eruptions).