The Hienama
A Story of the Sulh
A Wraeththu Mythos Novel
Storm Constantine
Stafford, England
The Hienama: A Story of the Sulh
© Storm Constantine 2008
Smashwords edition 2009
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people, or events, is purely coincidental.
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1
The whole experience was different for me, because I came to Wraeththu pretty late. In comparison. Most of the hara around me had been incepted in their teens, whereas I was in my early twenties when it happened. I always felt kind of out of place because of that. Not that hara weren’t good to me. It wasn’t that. I just had memories they didn’t have.
I’d been incepted into the Sulh, a travelling band, and the har who came to me after althaia told me that magic was strong in me, and that I should go to the town of Jesith to find instruction. A hienama there was renowned among the Sulh. His name was Ysobi.
Jesith was a village rather than a town, stuck on a bleak cliff on the northwest coast of the Alba Sulh phylarchy of Lyonis. Its former human inhabitants had been wiped out by a plague that had struck there ten years ago, or so. Most of Alba Sulh had been ravaged by plagues and the humans who’d survived them had either fled to the eastern continent or had settled uncomfortably into a kind of barbaric feudalism; small groups fending off the depredations of rogue Wraeththu groups. The Sulh, and other smaller tribes of civilised ways, tried to mediate and soothe any conflict, but since neither the humans nor the rogue hara had any particular interest in forging peace, this was difficult to police.
I had heard stories of how hara had come into Jesith by night, when fog had lain thick over the hills, making everything seem haunted and silent. There had still been lights burning in some of the windows, but as the hara stole between the buildings, like phantoms of mist themselves, and had looked between the open curtains, they’d found only abandonment or death. They’d cleared the corpses away and taken over the place for themselves. They renamed it, of course.
I turned up one afternoon in the late summer, having travelled there on foot from a larger settlement in the north. I’d been har for a few years by then, having taken a while to accept what my early friend had told me. At first, I’d been interested only in my new condition, my physical self. All that I’d been before seemed like a nightmare, a fever dream. I could remember what I’d been like, but only in the way you can remember stories you read in a newspaper. I’d discovered I was intelligent, full of curiosity and – most surprisingly – somewhat sensitive. What I’d been before I preferred not to think about. I’d been dragged to inception roaring and fighting, and now I couldn’t get enough of looking at myself, thinking: I am this, I really am. After three years or so, the novelty had still not worn off.
I walked round Jesith a couple of times, to get my bearings, then went to the largest inn for a different kind of information. It was called Willow Pool Garden, because, yes, it had a garden, a pool and willows at the back. The place was nearly empty, but there were two young hara in there, pale-skinned and dark-haired as I was. They spotted me as a stranger straight away and came directly to the table where I’d chosen to sip my ale. The beer was heavy and thick, very sweet; I found out later honey was involved in its production.
‘What have you come here for?’ one of them asked, ‘nohar hardly ever comes here.’ He said this in the way the young have always spoken of their hometowns; disparagingly, and aghast that strangers would find their way there. That amused me. Some things never change.
‘I’ve come to ask a hienama here, Ysobi, for training,’ I answered.
The two hara exchanged a glance, rolled their eyes, and laughed. ‘Ah,’ they said in unison.
I raised my eyebrows in enquiry.
‘That’s the only reason anyhar would ever come here,’ one of them explained, helpfully. ‘I suppose Yzzi is a legend.’
‘I heard he’s good,’ I said.
‘Somehar must think you are, then.’ The har shook his head, and held out his hand, which seemed an oddly archaic gesture. ‘Sorry, I’m Minnow.’ He jerked his head towards his companion. ‘He’s Vole. We were twins, well, still are…’
Two little creatures; quick Minnow and shy Vole. They were to become friends of mine. I took Minnow’s hand and shook it. ‘Hi, I’m Jassenah.’
‘We can show you to the Nayati in a little while,’ Minnow said. ‘Yzzi is in charge of it. There are a couple of other hienamas, who deal with any inceptions and basic caste training, but Yzzi is the specialist. He has a lot of students come to him from other phyles. He’s picky. He has to be. But I’m sure he’ll take you on.’
‘I don’t know how I’ll be able to pay him, supposing there is a charge.’
‘Most students find work here while they’re training, or their own phyle makes some kind of donation to Jesith, but if Yzzi thinks you’re worth it, he’ll do it for free. It’s his vocation.’
I was intrigued.
There was an old church in the town, but it had fallen mostly into ruins. The hara there had built their own Nayati, in wood. It consisted of a main hall, with tiers of seats down two sides, which were supported on thick pillars, so that there was standing room underneath. The floor was inlaid with symbols. At the far end were ritual rooms for inceptions and other rites, and there was an extension on the right side, which was Ysobi’s small college. Nohar actually lived there with him. Students were given accommodation in the town and any other hienamas attached to the Nayati also lived elsewhere. There were still a lot of empty dwellings in Jesith. At that time, any newcomer could take their pick.
Minnow led me down the Nayati to an arched wooden door, silent Vole lingering behind us. The afternoon had faded. I could smell the aroma of cooking meat as the inhabitants of Jesith prepared their evening meals. Minnow knocked on the door and without waiting for a response, opened it. I followed him into the room beyond.
The first thing I saw was the domed cage, in which two brightly coloured birds flickered round like jewels. The floor was mostly covered in cushions, and where there were no cushions there were papers, books, arcane equipment and other paraphernalia associated with the dedicated magus. Ysobi himself, or the har I took to be him, sat on one of the cushions, examining what looked like an essay. He was frowning a little and didn’t look up immediately.
‘Yzzi,’ Minnow said. ‘This har has been sent to you.’
The hienama looked up then. I don’t know what I had expected really, but he wasn’t quite up to whatever nebulous expectations I’d had. Perhaps alre
ady I assumed that Wraeththu legends were all great beauties, who could entrance with a single glance. Ysobi wasn’t ugly, of course, but I remember thinking he was too gaunt. His hair was very long, but rather lank, as if he hadn’t washed it for a while. He was dressed in a dark robe with a hood, and his face was bony. High cheekbones, grey hollows beneath them. Deep-set eyes, a long thin nose and rather full lips, which looked strange in juxtaposition with the rest of his features. I thought he was odd-looking, and that he could do with a good feed and a long bath. He smiled as I stared at him, and I felt myself flush; it was as if he’d read my thoughts, which of course he probably had. Part of why I was there was to learn how to control and best use my abilities.
‘How can I help you?’ he asked me, in a voice that was in fact quite beautiful.
‘The hara who incepted me advised me to come here,’ I said, suddenly feeling I was about to look stupid for imagining I was something more than I was. ‘They recommended you.’
‘And what is there about you to recommend?’ he asked reasonably.
I wanted to shrug and mutter something non-committal, but sensed this would not be the best course. ‘They thought I needed training different to the one they could give me. I’m untried. I don’t know if they’re right. But I came here, all the same.’
Ysobi nodded once and carefully put down the papers he’d been reading. ‘Minnow, you can go now. Come back in two hours, then find our guest somewhere to stay.’
‘You’ll take me on?’ I asked, quite surprised it had been that easy.
‘I didn’t say that, but presumably you don’t plan on moving on again tonight, in any case.’
‘I’m sorry… yes, I mean no. Sorry.’
Ysobi smiled mildly. ‘It’s quite all right.’
Minnow patted my arm. ‘We’ll come back later, then,’ he said. ‘Show you around, find you a bed.’
‘Thank you.’
After Minnow had gone, Ysobi gestured with one hand. ‘Put down your bag. Please, sit down.’
I did so. ‘I should have sent a message to you,’ I said. ‘I feel a bit bad now, just turning up.’
‘I’m under no obligation and difficult to embarrass,’ Ysobi said.
I felt mortified, but then he laughed.
‘Relax. We’ll talk. It’s not a case of you being good enough for me; it’s whether I think I can help you. Would you like tea? It’s flavoured with cinnamon. Some hara don’t like it.’
‘That’d be fine.’
He took a cloth off the pot that stood on the low table before him and poured some of the amber fluid into two delicate cups that had no handles. I had never tasted tea like that before. I really liked it. Just the scent of cinnamon nowadays takes me back to that day.
‘How long have you been har?’ Ysobi asked.
‘About three years.’
‘And what level are you at in your training?’
I shrugged. ‘Well, I had basic instruction after inception. I suppose I’m just Ara. The hara who incepted me were basically farmers, not mystics.’
‘But Sulh, though?’
‘Yes, Sulh.’ Most hara who weren’t, in this country, were regarded as vagabonds, looters and pirates.
‘How old were you at inception?’
‘Twenty-two.’
Ysobi nodded slowly. ‘Hmm.’
‘Is that bad?’
‘No, not especially. Training perhaps comes easier to the young, because they have fewer preconceptions.’
‘That goes for everything to do with being har,’ I said, before I’d had time to consider the words.
‘That, of course, is why most hara are incepted young. What’s your story?’
I had to turn my gaze away from his eyes. ‘I was born in a northern city. I ran wild. I’m not proud of what I was. I prefer to forget it.’
‘I would like to know how you came to be incepted.’
‘We were…’ I rubbed my face. ‘I was part of a gang whose sole aim in life was to terrorise Wraeththu. We were an irritant, tolerated for only so long. When the hara struck back, they did so swiftly and expediently. We didn’t stand a chance. Those who weren’t killed were incepted. I was one of the survivors.’
‘How long did you live that life, before you became har?’
‘About four years. Too long.’
‘You were no street kid, I can see that.’
‘I left my home. It was more than rebellion. The world was ending.’
Ysobi nodded again. I wanted to ask him how he had come to be incepted too. He was talking to me as if he’d never been human.
‘The main thing I’ve learned since inception,’ I said, ‘is that I have a mind. I have opinions. I never did before. But I used to take a lot of drugs…’ I raised my hands. ‘You don’t need me to tell you.’
‘You have adjusted well, in my opinion,’ Ysobi said. ‘More tea?’
I held out my cup. ‘I’m not unhappy. I’m not fucked up. That’s not why I’m here.’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘To learn. I want to learn. I’ve been reading a lot.’
Ysobi laughed, but not unkindly. ‘You are quite the butterfly, aren’t you, or should I say swan?’
I wondered if he was being sarcastic. ‘I could have been dead. I’m not. I’ve been given another chance. If that’s being a butterfly or a swan, then yes.’
Ysobi stared at me unblinkingly. ‘They incepted you because they could tell you could take it. Not many your age could. It drives men mad. It either makes them more violent, in denial, or they become drooling idiots. The adjustments they have to make are vast.’
‘It’s not a fate worse than death.’
‘Some think it is.’
‘Well, I’m not one of them.’
Ysobi gave me a shrewd look then, which I resented, because I thought he believed I was deluding myself. I thought he believed I was in denial. What could I say? I’d been prejudged.
He let the silence hang there between us for a while, sipping his tea, his gaze blank. I was thinking I should get out of there, wondering how to do it without looking a worse idiot. Eventually, I said, ‘Tiahaar, if you’d prefer me to leave, I will.’
‘What?’ He looked surprised at the sound of my voice, as if he’d forgotten I was there.
‘I said…’
‘I heard what you said. Excuse me, I was thinking.’
I sat there for some moments, wondering how much pleasure he got from playing the guru. It had been a mistake to come here.
‘We can start now,’ he said, glancing up at me. ‘If that’s OK with you?’
I blinked at him. ‘Well…’
‘What is your name?’
‘Jass… Jassenah.’
‘Jassenah har Sulh.’
I nodded.
‘I’d like to run through some basic tests, just to see where you’re at. Nothing too strenuous.’
‘And after that, you’ll decide whether to take me on?’
He smiled. ‘I’ve already decided that.’
Minnow and Vole found me a cottage near the centre of town. It was close to the narrow harbour, which was situated in a short estuary with high cliffs to either side. A fast-moving river rushed only a few yards from my front door, but behind the cottage was a field with sheep in it. More fields, dotted with copses of ancient trees, led to dark forests. The cottage was pretty run down, but the plumbing worked and it was hooked to the main town generator. It had two rooms downstairs and a kitchen with a wood-burning stove in it. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a rather unsavoury bathroom. In the larger of the rooms, there was a bed, which was a bit mouldy, but Minnow said he knew somehar who had a spare mattress. ‘Well, he makes them, actually, but he’ll usually give one for free to a newcomer. Don’t suppose you’ve got much to barter with.’
‘Not much,’ I agreed.
‘We’ll have to find you some work too,’ Minnow said, ‘supposing you want to eat, and so on.’
‘What’s on offer?’
‘Well, Jesith’s main produce is wine, of just about every variety. Other towns say we can make it from dead rats, but that’s not strictly true.’ He grinned. ‘We save the odd rat for the best vintage! No, I’m joking. Anyway, I work at the vineyard. I’ll take you tomorrow. Sinnar’s a decent har. He runs it. He’s also our phylarch.’
‘OK, sounds fine to me.’
‘You can eat with us tonight, if you want.’
‘Thanks.’
That first evening, Vole cooked for Minnow and me. They lived in another cottage quite near to mine, and I was impressed at what they’d done with it. I didn’t know how long I’d remain in Jesith, but basking in the delights of physical comfort, I resolved to do my cottage up a little and make it cosier.
After dinner, the twins took me out to show me what happened in Jesith after dark. There were several bars, which most hara visited at least once each evening. Food was available, and a variety of liquors from Sinnar’s yard, including ale. I got to meet some of the local celebrities. It was interesting.
It was then I first met Zehn, in a bar called The Leaping Cat. It was despite at first sight. I’d seen his type a hundred times before: the golden har who everyhar desires, and who knows it. He was beautiful, of course, with hair the colour of ripe wheat. It hung over his face and he kept pushing it back, aware of how lovely it was. He had some hapless soul with him, a red-haired beauty, who was no doubt attached for the duration of the evening and not far beyond. Zehn spent a few minutes trying to flirt with me, much to the distress of his companion, but I wouldn’t bite.
‘You’re new,’ he drawled, expecting me to be entranced.
I uttered a kind of grunt in response. I’d been bitten once or twice, in places very tender, by hara of his kind. I’d learned to see beyond the surface; usually, beneath was rot. His strategy would be to seduce every new face in town, then discard them. Pathetic, really.
‘He’s training with Ysobi,’ Minnow supplied.
Zehn laughed. ‘Good luck.’
I didn’t think I needed luck. The preliminary exercises had gone well with Ysobi that afternoon. I thought he’d been pleased with me. Clearly, a har of Zehn’s type would never consider taking any kind of training. It was beneath me to respond.