“What's going on tonight? Where are all the women?” asked Bolythak.
“There was some noise from the women’s lodge a while ago. Voices raised, someone screaming I think,” said Drinagish. “Maybe they had a fight in there.”
Or maybe they were telling jokes they would not tell in front of men, thought Menish, but he knew better than that.
“We could get one of the small boys to go and see. Olcish is still allowed in the women’s lodge. Hey, Olcish! Over here!”
Olcish came at Bolythak’s command.
“Do you know what's going on in the women’s lodge? Why are they still there? It's dinner time.”
“I don’t know,” said Olcish. “I think it's something to do with the Vorthenki. They ordered all of us out.” He gestured to a group of forlorn looking little boys. Keashil was with them, trying to cheer them with a lively tune. But Menish could see her heart was not in it. She was grieving that Althak had gone.
“Poor little beggars,” said Bolythak. “They look upset. They never did that to me when I was their age.”
“If they haven't come to dinner,” said Menish, “they may not come out to get them for bed. We'd better move them to the men’s lodge. It'll be too cold for them out here in the early hours of the morning.
“Olcish, did they order your mother out as well?” The boy nodded.
“So much for hospitality,” said Drinagish.
Menish called to Yarol.
“There seems to be some disturbance in the women’s lodge. Keashil has been turned out. She can't sleep in the hall. Find her a chamber of her own, Hrangil’s will do.”
“Hrangil’s things are still in his chamber, Sire. I haven't yet been able to clear it.” Hrangil had many books such as the Mish-Tal, containing the secrets of the Sons of Gilish. He would not have wanted them tampered with.
“Leave them there, Yarol. Keashil already knows Hrangil’s secrets. But if she didn't she'd not learn them from his books. As for his other property, she'll respect it.”
So Menish went to his cold bed, remembering that Adhara had had to do the same while he was away. Or perhaps she slept in the women’s lodge? He had not thought of that before. He went to sleep wondering what those women were planning.
It was not until the noon meal next day that he saw Adhara again. There were no women to be seen in the place all morning, except for Keashil, and no sign of activity from the women’s lodge. People kept asking him what was happening, but he had no definite answers so he feigned ignorance, pointing out that he was not permitted in the women’s lodge to find out. Finally, at noon, they emerged from the lodge looking weary. Menish thought he saw traces of paint on Adhara’s face when she greeted him, but he did not mention it.
The women were hungry and, since no one had been expecting them, the kitchen staff, under Yarol’s supervision, hurriedly prepared more mein. It took time, however, and most of the women were irritable and vented their tempers on Yarol for keeping them waiting.
Menish and Adhara took their meal in their rooms. Adhara was plainly agitated, and just as irritable as the others. She looked as though she had been arguing all night and all morning. Menish waited patiently for her to tell him what had happened.
“This is muck!” she pushed the bowl of mein away and reached for the cup of ambroth.
“It's the same as always. You didn't complain yesterday.”
“They didn't burn it yesterday. It took them long enough to make it, then they burnt it!”
“Are you going to tell me what happened or just complain about the food?”
She glared at him for a moment, then her gaze softened.
“Yes, of course. I'll tell you what I can. We held a council of women, like the clan leaders council, but different. Many of the important women are here to listen to your news of Gashan so it was easy to organise it. For once I was able to address it.”
“What do you mean: ‘for once’?”
She hesitated.
“Only women who have given birth may speak in our councils.”
Her answer opened another window into this world of women for Menish. Women who had given birth wore their hair in braids, rather than loose as she did. He had always thought it an empty tradition, but suddenly it was a mark of status, a badge of importance. And Adhara could not speak in their councils? She who was regent while he was away? He had always assumed that she held a position of authority in Anthor, yet in this world of women she did not. Neither did he, of course. He was not even allowed to attend their councils.
“I see, go on.”
“I said we should hold the rite of Protection. It's an old rite, before the Relanese came it was used as a protection from them. Now it's used to protect herds from raiders. There were objections, of course.”
“Objections?”
“The rite of Protection can only be performed by the owner of the herds. It can't be done for her by anyone else. When it was done to defend Anthor it had to be done by the King.”
“And when the King is a man?”
“No one knows for sure. But we think in the old days it was done by a man or a woman. The Relanese changed that, but that's what I have been arguing all night. It may be still be done by a man… it may be done by you.”
There was something she was not telling him. But she was tired and he did not want to press her.
“And did you convince them?”
“In principle, yes. They agree that you ought to be allowed to do it. There is still a question whether you will succeed.”
“Is it some difficult task?”
“The rite isn't difficult. But whether Kiveli will listen is the question.”
“Don't you still revere Krith, the sky god?”
“Of course. But Kiveli has the power.”
He wondered if he could have reasonably expected any other answer from a religion of women.
It was several days before he heard any more about this rite of Protection. During this time Adhara avoided him, sleeping in the women’s lodge. She would not tell him anything about it, or even when it would take place. The other women also avoided him. Some of them seemed almost hostile and few would speak to him.
One morning Adhara met him emerging from their rooms.
“The rite will take place tonight.”
“What must I do?”
“Eat nothing this evening, bathe and put on clean clothing, and no weapons. I'll meet you at dusk.”
He did not see her again until dusk. Bolythak, who had the management of one of his herds, had wanted him to come and see how well it was doing. He wanted to build up Bolythak's confidence so he went with him, but it meant that he was away from Meyathal at noon and could only eat some wheat cakes in the fields. By dusk his stomach was churning with hunger, especially with the smell of the evening meal in his nostrils. He wondered if they would know if he ate something, but Adhara had trusted him to follow her instructions. He could not break that trust.
Adhara led him to the stables where they found horses and rode out from the palace. It was bitterly cold, but the sky was clear. A fingernail moon shed some light on their path. Menish had no idea where they were going. They stopped at the riverbank.
“Here we must cover your eyes.” Without waiting for his objections Adhara tied a cloth around his head, blocking out his vision. She inspected it carefully (he supposed that was what she was doing) before leading his horse off with her own. “There was debate about tying your hands to prevent you moving the covering. I told them that we could trust you.” After that Menish could hardly disobey even if he were inclined to.
But he did manage to guess where they were going. Some light from the waning moon gave him a sense of direction and he knew every horse path around Meyathal intimately. Although she twisted their path, circling and doubling back to confuse him Menish knew when they arrived at the place called Gomol-thal, the place of death. Menish could picture it in the night sky, rows of high earth mounds, beneath each one a king of Anthor lay. One day, perhaps, his own mound would lie here under the moon. But no, he would lie like his father did in the Mountains of Ristalshuz.