Into the West

"Did you hear?"

"About Mari Goi? Twins is what I heard. Boys."

"No, you daft old thing. The king's announced a contest!"

"And what's that to do with us? What with him up in Borea and all, eating every kind of fish while we're lucky to get a fin of trout to go with last year's pickled cabbage."

"That's as may, but he's hankering to get back here to Alba. He's offered up a prize to whoever slays the monster. It's all anyone's talking about."

"What prize? I heard he left all his gold behind, and now it's under that mountain of rubble that used to be walls. There's fools digging there every night in hope of finding a coin or two. Mari's old man says he found a whole chest, though he claims it was only silks inside."

"Get a pretty price for silk."

"So I hear, but I bet he found more as well. What prize is it? No one round here is fool enough to test that old monster. Best we can hope is it gets homesick and returns to the depths."

"You're right, no doubt. But the king's desperate enough to offer up his kingdom. 'He who slays the monster,' he says, 'shall gain my daughter's hand in marriage, and shall reign as King of Alba after my death.'"

"I can't see Princess Kait being thrilled by that."

"No, but I imagine she'd rather share the throne of Alba than be stuck in Borea staring at rocks all her life."

"True. True. Mind, I pity any hero who does slay the beast, for he'll win himself a sour-faced bride, and I'm not sure which is worst."

*

Dala and I stood atop the cliff looking south towards the ruined city of Alba. It was early spring and the gusting wind was cool, but the sky was clear and the late afternoon sun was warm.

A short distance away stood an old, grey-bearded man in a long purple cloak stitched with stars and symbols. "I call upon the Six to bless this staff," he cried out, brandishing the stick he held. "I ask Uxur to give me the fire of the Sun, and Ulaxr the ice of the Moon. I ask Derushil to give my weapon the strength of the Forge, and Oehr to open the gateway to Tordunh. I ask Veshla to fill my heart with courage, and Minarwe to give strength to my flesh."

Dala sniggered. "I can just imagine him praying to Minarwe every night," she whispered to me. "O Minarwe, give strength to my flesh! Make my cock hard that I might slake my lust on the temple maids again."

Her voice must have carried with the wind, or perhaps his hearing was younger than his years, for he turned a most terrible scowl upon Dala.

"Get on with it, old man," she said loudly. "If every fool who called upon the gods got his wishes, there would be chaos across the land."

The small crowd that had gathered to watch tittered with laughter but no one else was as bold as Dala. The wizard's cheeks flushed with anger, and for a moment it seemed he might attack Dala physically, but his gaze flickered towards my chest and his eyes widened in startled recognition.

My amulet, I realised. A fool he might be, but the old man knew an amulet of Minarwe when he saw it. There was a moment's calculation in his eyes, and I wondered if he would dare to ask the goddess directly for aid - but then he looked away, and focussed his attention once again on the sea.

Out in the distance, as if on cue, a single coiling tentacle peeked above the waves. It looked a slender and delicate thing from so far away, but it was just one of many, and even that one was in truth thicker than a ship's mast and perfectly capable of tearing a ship apart, leaving behind only a chaos of timbers and drowning sailors.

"

Tum-ba dar penifturtu ogla abreq pir mela!

" the wizard cried, holding his stick aloft. Lighting cracked through the blue sky above us, and moments later the boom of thunder deafened us, with an aftermath of murmuring echoes.

"Impressive!" Dala shouted. "But can you aim it? Can those old eyes even see the monster from here?"

The gathered crowd, who had shrunk away in fear at the terrifying evidence of the wizard's power, crept closer again, finding courage in Dala's cheerful provocation.

The Rathwiri wizard was just one of many visitors to Alba's shore who had come to test the monster. A few days before, a prince of Saruz had turned up in a ship with dozens of huge bows for firing harpoons, and he had barely escaped with his life; his ship and crew had not fared so well. Before that, a Borean fisherman had rowed out with a barge piled with oil barrels, waited bravely until a great tentacle coiled about the vessel, and then set the oil alight; the sea had burned even until dusk, but Ketos was still there the next day, and the fisherman had never been seen again.

"

Tum-ba dar penifturtu ogla abreq pir mela!

" the wizard cried again, and this time lightning struck down at the sea, though nowhere near where that tentacle had been earlier.

Dala cheered as the thunder boomed again. "Are you sure you don't want to take a boat out there? Get a bit closer?"

Again the wizard cried out, and again, but no more lightning came, and the old man slumped to his knees exhausted. "Never mind, old man," Dala said. "At least you won't have to marry the princess."

The crowd burst into laughter, but the king's representative, a fat man with a gold chain about his neck who had come to witness the wizard's attempt to slay the monster, cast a horrified look at Dala.

Their entertainment over, the crowd broke apart, people chattering and laughing as they made their way back to the city. Soon there were only ourselves and the old man left looking out over the water, and it wasn't long before he toddled off too.

Not for the first time, I found myself drawn to Dala's contradictory nature. Her blonde hair and fair face, combined with an open approach to sex and a dirty sense of humour, made her well liked with the men she spoke to, but her naturally flirtatious manner never touched her heart. Dala had no interest in romance, and was either oblivious or scornful of men's longing for a deeper connection with her.

To me, she was a friend, an ally, and occasionally a lover. To her, I was someone she'd promised eternal loyalty to, someone to protect her, someone to play with when bored. Her mind was ever restless, absorbed with mysteries of witchcraft that no one else could see or understand.

A year and a half had passed since the great tentacled sea beast laid waste to the ancient port, and I doubted the mighty fortress walls would ever be rebuilt with the same grandeur. "Did we do the right thing?" I asked. There were days like this when, confronted with the consequences of that unthinking act, I felt guilty over my role in awakening Ketos.

Dala snorted her disdain for this. "Port Alba did it to themselves. They broke the treaty with the centaurs, nearly killed Princess Furien, and they treated Prince Galras with humiliating cruelty."

"To punish the city's rulers is one thing," I argued, "but innocent lives were lost, and many have lived in great hardship."

The people of Port Alba had scattered widely up and down the coast, although many had returned to rebuild their homes in the city. The fortress itself was rubble, and had been picked clean by looters, and boats avoided the harbour for fear of the monster.

The king and his court, meanwhile, had retreated north and set themselves up in Port Borea, where the fishermen were doing well and new ships were being built. There was a rumour in the south that some survivors of the old Alban navy had turned to piracy.

"Port Alba chose to declare war on the centaurs," Dala said, "because they thought the centaurs were weak. The people I grew up with all believed it. We would look across the river and see only empty plains of fertile ground, and it angered us to be told it was not ours to claim. And if sometimes we crossed the river to gather fruits and herbs, and maybe plant trees and sow grain, the king's representatives cared not."

It was all still strange to me. I had grown up in the Farm, surrounded by a wall that kept out mythical monsters. No one would even have thought to plant crops beyond that protective boundary. But outside of the Maze, the boundaries between places were marked on maps, and often only on maps.

"Besides," Dala continued, "it was Minarwe who gave us the means to summon Ketos. It was her will that Port Alba be punished. Do you really want to argue right and wrong with a goddess? With

your

goddess?"

I touched my fingertips to the amulet that marked me as Minarwe's priestess. It was not a role I had asked for or wanted, but it was mine all the same. With Minarwe there was always a price to be paid. The king of the centaurs asked her for help, and she gave generously, but in saving the prince she had doomed the king. Male centaurs are excessively proud of their stallion cocks.

"What's done is done," I said, and turned to look out over the sea.

"Even if it's there, you can't see it from here," Dala said.

"I know." I knew, but believing was harder. Since leaving the Farm and escaping the Maze, I had had my heart set on seeing the fabled cities where wizards lived and men went to the stars. "But it is there."

*

I was a priestess of Minarwe. It wasn't something I had chosen to be, but the amulet marked me as such, and there was no hiding or removing the amulet. The goddess herself had claimed me; she had used my hands and spoken through my mouth. To fight against divine inevitability was futile.

People knew I was a priestess, and to be a priestess of Minarwe was a confusing thing. The old man in the mountains who had given me to the goddess, and who had given me his swift-walking boots and his one-arrowed bow, had taken payment for these treasures with my flesh.

In the teachings of Minarwe, there was value in pleasure given, and I had given pleasure against my own nature. The idea of more men giving gifts and demanding pleasure in return terrified me. In the temple of Minarwe, that was certainly the way of things, the temple maids offering delights in exchange for coin, but I was no temple maid.

When Dala and I returned to Alba, a mere handful of days after the catastrophe we were in part responsible for, I visited the temple of Minarwe and I spoke with the temple's priestess. Senziri was an elderly lady who had lived and served in Alba since before I was born. Age did not lessen her attractiveness, or her seductive instincts. When she touched her fingers to my amulet, I yearned to feel her fingers caress elsewhere. Her long, dark hair was scented with some exotic perfume, and her darkened green eyes were wide and warmly curious.

"I remember the woman who wore this before you," she said. "Alesh, her name was, and proud of her role as the voice of Minarwe. She had a thousand tales of the world, and the many men who had adored her, but in time she settled down."

"Alesh," I echoed. As angry as I sometimes got, remembering how the old man had taken advantage of me, I did believe he had loved his wife. Alesh, Priestess of Minarwe, wife and mother. "I don't want to sell my body for coin," I said to Senziri. "Especially not to men."

The priestess smiled. "Then don't. Pleasure must be given willingly if it is to mean anything. If you choose to exchange favours for gold or silver, then be clear it's a choice. Any man or woman who trades with Minarwe, however, should beware. Selfish desires are seldom rewarded by the goddess."

The old man had been rewarded, but then he had been at the end of his life, and perhaps I did not know everything. Senziri's words reassured me, but much was left unanswered.

Minarwe's temple had survived the monster's attack on Alba unscathed. Perhaps because it had been Minarwe's spell that had summoned Ketos from the deep. Many townspeople had sheltered within the temple during and after, praying to the goddess for protection from that terrifying reminder that their world was home also to magical creatures and capricious divinities.

It was easy sometimes to think of Minarwe's temple as little more than a brothel, but that was a shallow understanding. The temple was a place of safety and healing, a place where pleasure could be given but not taken, a place ruled by a goddess rarely seen but very real. It was easy to look at Senziri and imagine she was the goddess herself, elegant and beautiful, a simmering sexuality in every movement. "Can I kiss you?" I asked.

"I've demanded gold for less," she said with a playful smile, "but if that's all you ask for, I'll take the kiss itself as payment."

We kissed, the smell of her hair intoxicating, the soft warmth of her lips a longed-for sweetness. Dala was not one for kissing, but Senziri's kiss was worth more than gold. The touch of her was like falling in love, her lips divine.

"Mmm," she said, breaking away with a gentle laugh. "Such youth! Such passion! How I envy you."

*

My heart was set on Atlantis, but no ships sailed that far west. To most, Atlantis was nothing but a story, the mythical origin of humanity, lost forever beneath the waves. Since the monster came to Alba, few ships sailed at all, which was a bitter irony.

Dala and I had chosen to live amongst the Albans - or near to them, anyway. I was not used to being around so many people, and there was always a danger my green, mutated legs might be glimpsed. The Maze had made a monster of me, just as the amulet had made a priestess of me, and people feared the monstrous just as they revered the divine. My legs I could, at least, conceal within my walking boots and beneath a long skirt.

So we lived between the city and the forest, where I could hunt well and walk unseen, and where Dala could practise her witchcraft. Dala was often in the bed of a young blacksmith who lived nearby, and who with her help produced some very sharp tools and weapons; and she supplied the healers in Alba with powerful medicines. And I grew skilled in finding the herbs and other ingredients Dala needed for her witchcraft, and that I needed for my cooking.

I visited the temple of Minarwe often, partly out of a sense of duty, partly as an excuse to spend time with Senziri. Sometimes I spoke to her of my quest. "Atlantis is a tale told to children," she would say. "An island where men strived to be gods, but were punished for their arrogance and the island sank beneath the waves."

But I had seen Atlantis on the great map in Alba's throne room before its destruction, and was determined to seek the truth of it.

When the king and his court came to Alba for the summer, they set up residence at an inland mansion that overlooked the city and the harbour beyond. "Well out of reach in case the monster starts throwing boulders again," I said when Dala told me.

Dala chuckled. "That, and he doesn't want to hear cityfolk whispering about what a useless idiot he is. His fleeing to Borea did more damage than the monster."

The announcement of a contest to kill the monster certainly created excitement. Once Ketos was gone, Alba would again be the major northern port, and the city would quickly recover its old wealth. The prospect of gaining the throne by marrying Princess Kait attracted both romantic fools and ambitious foreign princes.

Elderly Rathwiri wizards too. "That lightning was impressive," I said to Dala. "Could you do that?"

Dala shrugged. "That stick of his is special. I've heard it said the Rathwiri capture lightning in copper tubes to use against enemies, but it's only useful for frightening people. Maybe if he'd got lucky, he might have scared away the monster, but there was no chance of him killing it."

I lay back on the grass. "If we killed the monster, do you think the king would give us a ship instead of his daughter?"

"We can't kill it," Dala pointed out, "and I wouldn't even if I could."

"No, but if we could make everyone believe we killed it... We summoned Ketos here, can't we summon it elsewhere, and then rain lightning bolts into the sea here once it's gone?"

"Hmm. Maybe. But not lightning. We would need to put on a show. A spectacle that would delight even the gods. Something to make people really believe that not only do we have the power to kill beasts of legend, but that we have the power to demand the king bows to our demands after."

The expression on Dala's face was both thoughtful and excited. "Can you do it?" I asked.

"I have an idea how it could be done," she said, "but it would take practice and preparation, and even then I don't know if I could do it alone."

"I'll help every way I can."

"I know, but I'm not a goddess. Some spells need three witches to balance them. Summoning a monster is a lot easier than persuading it to go home, especially once it has fed on destruction."

"Three witches," I mused. "That sounds like a lot of trouble."

Dala chuckled. "Or a lot of fun."

*

"Did you hear?"

"About Bela Goi? Twins is what I heard, just like her sister. Girls though."

"No, you daft old thing. Princess Kait's gone missing."

"Missing? As in run away? Can't hardly blame her, what with His Majesty dangling her like bait all summer."

"She'd have made a pretty bride if she ever stopped scowling. I never saw a girl more miserable to be courting. If I had her silks and her choice of men, I'd have been cursing the gods for not letting me have them all!"

"Hah! You'd have had them all, no matter what the gods said. How you manage to look after two husbands and still have the energy to waste on that lover of yours, I don't know."

"They each have their talents, and I know how to keep them from looking elsewhere."

"No doubt. But Princess Kait isn't you. She's kept locked up by the king and told who to marry and has spent the past year in Port Borea, a place no free-spirited young woman could endure for any length of time. No wonder she upped and ran the first chance she got."

"I bet she's got some young man with her. I do hope so. The scandal will be delicious. Or maybe she's run straight into Minarwe's arms..."

"That'll be the first place they look, just for the fear of it. She wouldn't be the first princess to throw herself at the goddess's feet."

*

Princess Kait threw herself at the goddess's feet - or, rather, at my feet. Clad in a plain grey cloak, she hammered on my door, pushed into the little cabin Dala and I shared without waiting, and pulled her hood back to reveal a young face and a cascade of fiery red curls. "Help me," she pleaded.

Dala and I exchanged a look. We knew who she was, of course, but had never suspected she would find her way to our home. It was late, the last light of day seeping from the sky. Certainly too dark to send her away or do anything except invite her to stay and talk with us.

"Take a seat," I said, closing and locking the door. We really didn't need anyone else charging in and discovering the princess with us. Dala put the kettle to warm over the fire. "Help you how, Princess?"

She burst into tears. "I hate it here. I'm not allowed to do anything I want, and all anyone talks about is the monster or who I might end up marrying or how we don't have any money. I don't care about the monster or marriage or money. Father talks about the throne and responsibility, and says it's my duty to have children, but I think it's stupid. It's his fault the monster came, after all. He was horribly cruel to that centaur prince, and then left him behind to die when the monster attacked."

Her sobbing became an actual wail of grief, and I wondered how different the past year could have been if Kait had been Queen of Alba when the centaurs came.

"Prince Galras survived and escaped," I said. "Perhaps one day you will see him again."

"Alive?" Her voice trembled, and there was a desperate hope in her eyes.

"Alive," Dala confirmed. She poured cups of her herbal tea for each of us, and I cradled mine for the warmth.

"Why did you come to us?" I asked. I had a pretty good idea, however.