Thought Mode:
Honey, Humility learned, was sweet and scatterbrained and submissive sexually. She was conjured from the faery substance of an Aesoe fantasy woman who was totally loyal to him but was so desirable to other men that she might serve as a delicious reward, when he wished it, for those who were loyal to him. She was the easiest of the roles to play, allowing forgetfulness and demanding little more than radiant charm and careful attention to the needs of the men important to Aesoe.
If hurt, Honey expressed resentment by a slight slowness, followed by a sudden gush of affectionate forgiveness. She forgave everything. She was never jealous. She was quick to serve, anticipative, restless, shifting and changing in the way she dressed or sang or put her fine meals together.
Honey was an adventurous lover, reflecting Aesoe’s uncommon curiosity. When Aesoe wished to show her off to his intimates, she became exhibitionistic, willing, but when he meditated she was unobtrusive. She spent her time alone practicing her dance and music and singing. Very occasionally she wrote her own songs and might shyly perform them for Aesoe if he wanted to hear them enough to be sufficiently persuasive. She was that way because he enjoyed persuading people. Honey could not tolerate a finger playing in her bellybutton. She was that way because he enjoyed having simple teases. Yes, an easy role.
“And what is Cairnem like?” Humility asked during a break for tea and rolls.
“Cooler. Aesoe thinks of her as the greatest artist so we conspire always to focus on Cairnem’s performance. When Aesoe wants to sleep with her, he pretends disinterest. She enjoys sex only as the aggressor — when she is taking a man away from something that is important to him. She is rigid and only makes love in the overposition. She cries and loses control at orgasm. She is the planner of Aesoe’s household, the one who gets things done.”
“Where did she come from?”
“We created her out of his fantasy need to be with a competent woman.”
“And Sieen?”
“Sieen is the most difficult role. She requires intellectual continuity. You will not be allowed to be Sieen for many weeks. The crone mother will brief you on her and run you through your basic drills. Sieen is Aesoe’s confidant. He tries out policy on her, explores ideas with her before he takes them to the Council. She is almost dull in public and merely competent while serving other men. Only with Aesoe does her mind erupt and her face catch fire and her body warm to the sensual.” Cocked Ear brightened, remembering being Sieen. “She’s no role. It’s like sailplane soaring — with the ground expanding and no updraft. God! when you are Sieen, you’re alive. Then you know you’re Liethe! That’s where we learn about Kaiel policy before it is made and where we make Kaiel policy!”
“With a little help from the old crone,” Humility added cynically.
“You will be a master of Kaiel policy before you are ready to be Sieen.”
“Who decides who gets the roles? What if two of us wish to be Sieen the same night?”
“Whim. If there is a dispute we throw dice. But not while Aesoe is looking!”
After dinner six of the girls were singing or playing to relax — but the crone mother did not let Humility relax. When the ancient one was through instructing the orn-Gazi Who Cries for Berries, that pleasant girl appeared and, trying out the ways of seduction she had just learned, gently informed Humility that the respected hag wished to see her.
The old woman sat in her luxurious room on a huge round pillow that she used as a bed. Two beeswax candles burned on her silver inlaid desk. Behind her was a rich tapestry celebrating the pleasure of laughter. Beside her was a small pantry of pale wood. Stoicism was for the young. In the midst of this splendor, Humility was not sure whether she should remain standing or take a cushion.
The crone mother was the oldest se-Tufi she had ever met, surely near death, but it would not be her mind that would fail her, it would be her heart. The se-Tufi had been the longest lived of the Liethe lines until recently and they lived twenty percent longer than the average Getan who died of old age. Someday the se-Tufi would be replaced by a sister line that had their ability and a better blood pump. The Code allowed no less. No line could hope for immortality.
It was macabre to be confronting herself at the end of her life, as if her travels across the Pile of Bones and the Itraiel Plain had taken her on a journey in time to meet herself as she would become. No words passed between them. Finally the crone mother rose, and Humility ached to help her stand on those legs, but one did not help a crone mother unless asked. The woman took her by the arm, on the band of signature, and carefully brought her to cushions near the candles. Her gesture said that discipline deserved pleasure. She poured liqueur into two tiny goblets, carefully, for her hand trembled. Then sighing, she sat down again, offering the second delicate sipper with a smile that carved her face into finer lines than any artist could have wrought.
Humility was tired. She wanted her mat and her cell, she craved the hardness of the floor and sleep, but the unspoken moments gave her time to work the White Mind. The day vanished. Her body relaxed. In the whiteness appeared her urgently central concern and she spoke first.
“The Kaiel and Liethe are traditional enemies.”
The old woman smiled mysteriously. “You are anxious to go to work?”
“What is my assignment to be?”
“My child, your first assignment is patience. Think no farther than the five pleasure points of Aesoe’s penis.”
Humility was somewhat offended. “I am no novice to stand while Geta turns.”
“So I have heard. Your reputation is that you act with consummate skill. But do you know why you do what you do? Be sure in your own mind that it is right. Only you will bear the consequences. Whatever the Liethe do in secret, in public they side with the law of the land they live in.”
“I need only to be competent. I take orders from those wiser than myself.”
The old woman sighed. “Tell me, why are the Kaiel and the Liethe enemies?”
The Queen of Life-before-Death had nothing to say. The enmity was an understood.
“You see, you are Action Without Thought. Aesoe does not even know we are traditional enemies. He thinks of us as mere women for hire and a bargain at the price. He is more fond of us than some men are of their wives. Vengeance is only in the Liethe soul.”
“The Kaiel are mass murderers.”
The se-Tufi crone sipped her drink, and trembling, set it down, emotion shaking her frail body. “Yes? That is something which touches you?” She spoke her question searchingly, as if she did not understand what Humility was talking about.
“The Judgment Feast of the Arant,” said Humility warily.
“That was ages ago. I believe I am correct when I state that there was no Kaiel clan at the time.”
“The rubble under our feet is Arant! This whole city is built on the bones of the slaughtered Arant! Dig down! You’ll find their cellars. You’ll find the treasures they hid before they were wiped from the face of Geta! The Kaiel clan was founded so that the Arant would never rise again! The Kaiel were given Arant territory and Arant coin and they took it, thus they have the blood of the Arant in their bellies!”
“I see,” said the old woman as if she were blind. “Why does that concern the Liethe? We seek only two things: beauty and the power that beauty brings.”
“Have we not avoided Kaiel-hontokae like the poison? It is part of our tradition! It has always been important. Why did you bring a Liethe hive here? I assumed it was to attack.” Of course it was to attack — the hag was leading her on.
“You speak of the Arant rubble beneath our feet. Do you know the old Arant name for this city?”