Scythe of Silas
Chapter 1: The Debt
In the dark Riva could hear Ma crying, “What did you do?”
Pa’s voice quivered. “I pulled her back. She’s alive.”
Riva could barely breathe, they hugged her so hard. Ma said, “Oh, girl. Oh, girl.
Are you sure she’s alive, Jon? Are you sure?”
“She died. I pulled her back.”
She died? Riva clutched at them as she started crying, too. Ma's kisses were hot
all over her face. Ma murmured something in between kisses.
“Are you all right, girl?” Pa asked, louder this time.
Her voice was squeaky when she answered through the sobs. “I’m all right.” She
opened her eyes and saw them. The big tree and the sky above them looked the
same as before, except maybe brighter.
Pa asked, “What happened, Riva?”
She started to talk, but her breath caught in her throat. She coughed with a sob
then managed to say, “I fell out of the tree. I’m sorry. I won’t climb it any more.
I won’t.”
“You knew better, Riva!” Ma said, still scared.
“Do you remember anything after you fell?” Pa asked.
Riva said, “I had a dream. There was a man in a white room.”
Ma said, “It was just a bad dream. We’re here now, girl. You’re all right. Oh, I
should have been watching you.”
“What did the man look like?” Pa asked.
Riva was shaking. “I’m cold.”
Ma said, “Let’s wrap her up. She’s cold. Take her inside, Jon.”
It was good to relax, feeling Pa’s strong arms bearing her up into the house, finally
putting her in her own bed. Ma covered her with the bear fur blanket and said, “I'll
get you some fresh water,” gave her a powerful hug, then hurried outside to the
well.
Pa sat by her side and held both her hands in his. “You saw a man?”
“He was big, Pa. Bigger than you. He was a priest like you with a sword and the
armor.”
“Did you . . . did you see anything else?”
“Just the man in the big white room. The door—it was iron.”
“And that’s all?”
“He knew my name. He said I was his.” She let go of Pa’s hands and grabbed
him, hugging him close, starting to cry again. “I’m yours. I’m not his.”
Pa whispered in her ear. “You’re mine, girl. Mine and Ma’s. But we’re all His.”
“All his?”
“Jared’s. We all go to the Spirit World someday, through that iron door.”
“I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here. Please.”
They stayed that way until Ma brought the water.
Riva must have gone to sleep after that. When she woke up she lay still, listening
to Ma and Pa talking quietly. She snuck a peek and saw they were at the table.
She moved her hand slowly up to her neck and felt the soft leather necklace, then
trailed her hand along it until she found her doll. She had been lying on it. She
slowly brought her doll to her cheek and nuzzled against her, barely whispering,
“It's all right, little sister. It’s all right.”
Pa was saying, “I don’t know how, Claire. I shouldn’t have been able to.”
“Jared gave her back to you because you’re his priest, Jon. That’s all.”
“No. He didn’t give her. I took her. Riva told me that He said she belonged to
Him. I shouldn’t have done it, Claire.”
“Well it’s too late now. She’s back where she should be.”
Nobody said anything for a while. Finally Pa said, “We have to give her back.”
***
Riva crawled on hands and knees, looking for a little hole in the ground, even too
small for her finger. She was near the big tree when she saw Pa leave the tanning
shed and go into the house to eat. She crept around the yard until she found a hole
near the house. She looked over her thin stalk of hangweed, and then spit on the
end. She put the wet end into the dirt and rolled it around until the stalk had a nice
mud coating. She slid the muddy end of the stalk into the little hole and rolled the
other end in her fingers. When she pulled the stalk out she saw the small white
worm clinging to the muddy end. She lowered the worm to the ground. When he
began to creep away, she jousted with him with the stalk.
She knew Ma would call her inside to eat soon. She could hear Ma and Pa talking
inside as he washed up from his morning’s work. Ma said, “I know what we have
to do.”
“About the elk skins? I’m sending them to Pargamont. He’s paying well for them
now.”
Ma was so quiet Riva could barely hear her. “About Riva.”
Riva caught her breath and peeked up into the window at them, careful that they
could not see her.
“I dreamed that she was a priest, Jon. She wore the mail and sword. I’ve
dreamed it for a week.”
Pa propped his elbow in the table and put his face in his hand. “Every night since
she fell?”
“Every night. It won’t stop.”
“What do you think it means, Claire?”
“She should be taught as a priest, same as you. She should be educated.”
Pa smiled, but then Riva saw that it was not a real smile. “Just like you want to be
educated?”
Ma took the bread off the fire and then sat opposite Pa. “Just like I want to be.
Her husband should not be better than she is.”
Pa didn’t try to argue this time about how learning was not important for tanners
and wives. He just stayed quiet.
“Is this a true sign, Jon? You know it is.”
“You want it to be.”
Ma said, “When you said that we’d have to give her back, I didn’t know what that
meant. I was afraid . . .” Riva didn’t hear the last part, Ma had said it so weakly.
“The God is not so cruel to ask that. I was almost certain of that. But if she
became a priestess—that would be hard.”
“It’s hard to pay debts. She would be one week buried if you hadn’t done it.” Her
voice quavered. She reached over for his hand and drew it to her, squeezing it to
her lips. “Jared’s priests will take her, won’t they?”
Pa sounded like he would cry. “They have had priestesses before. Not many,
though.”
“It will settle the debt, won’t it?”
She just barely heard Pa say, “Maybe. I’ll think on it.”
But Ma didn’t give him time to think on it. She said, “She’s ten years old, Jon.
We may not have her with us for long anyway. She could be married in four
years.”
“I want her to marry. She would live in the village. We could play with our
grandchildren. If she becomes a priestess, though . . . . life in the Order of Jared
is not a good life for a child. She would have friends in the order. She wants
friends. But there is no love, like you have for Riva.”
“It’s what’s best for her.”
Pa’s chin had been resting on his palm; now he hid his face in his hand. “Best for
her? In the Order she would have a priest’s life—the God’s life—the way of the
Guardian—she would learn to kill.”
“Jon, you have told me yourself that Riva should not have a life with us now—that
she has a debt to pay to Jared.”
Pa groaned, “I know, Claire. I know.”
“And a woman needs to learn to protect herself against men.”
Pa said quietly, “It won’t be that way for her.”
“You don’t know that. It is that way.”
He sighed heavily. “I won’t argue. I really can’t argue at all. I’ve had the same
dreams that you did. I was hoping they weren’t true.”
“You did?” Ma looked like someone had hit her.
Riva slumped down by the window. She looked at the white worm crawling
around like he was blind. She used her muddy stalk to herd him back into his
hole. She crossed her legs and took hold of her sister with both hands, holding her
out in front of her on the necklace. Pa had made her sister and the necklace, too.
That way Riva could always keep her close by, even when she was working with
Ma or Pa or playing.
Riva was pretty sure Ma and Pa were saying that she would have to go away—that
they would make her a priest like Pa was. She thought about how Pa looked in his
armor and with his sword. It was like he was a different person—like a hero from
one of the stories he told her. Ma and Pa had those dreams about her wearing that
armor. But she could not picture herself in it.
***
“Can I hold the sword?” Riva asked.
Pa was standing at the door, just about to go into the village to buy supplies. He
looked down at her for a long time before saying, “Yes. But you must be careful.”
He reached up to the peg beside the door and took the belted scabbard that held his
sword. He drew the sword and inspected it. He nodded. “Hold it here.”
He knelt and showed Riva where to put her hand, but she figured that out before he
showed her. He warned her. “It’s heavy.”
She said, “I know.”
When he took his hand away from the hilt, the sword’s tip immediately dropped
straight to the floor with a thunk. He smiled. “I warned you.”
She said, “It is heavy. Why does it have to be so heavy?”
He said, “The sword is for killing. It must be powerful. And part of that power
means it is heavy. But, as swords go, this one is light. It is made from the
Goddess’s metal—Eleir’s metal, by her priests—they are all smiths. Jared’s
strength makes it even lighter to me. It is no heavier to a priest who has the
Jared's strength than his own hand is.”
Riva put both her hands on the hilt and managed to lift the tip from the floor. Riva
said, “Ma wants me to be a priest, but you don’t.”
He said again, “Careful.”
He looked her over. “So you heard our discussions. What do you want, Riva?
Have you thought about it?”
She looked up to him, with the sword wavering in her grip. “I want to live with
you. I don’t want to leave.”
Pa nodded. He put his hand on hers to take the sword. Then he looked at her
straight on. He seemed confused for a few heartbeats, as if he were wondering
what he should do next. Then he relaxed and smiled. His eyes were soft. His
voice was quiet. He said, “I love you, Riva Tanner.” But he didn’t sound like Pa.
His voice sounded like the man in the white room. Like Jared’s voice.
“Pa?” He didn’t say anything. She protested, “Don’t do that.”
Pa’s eyes flickered with confusion again. He shook his head and stood, sheathing
the sword and replacing it on the peg. “Your mother and I will do what’s best for
you, my girl. Right now, I have to go into town and you have work to do with
Ma.”
***
Pa was going to be back from town any time now. Riva wished he would hurry,
because the soup that she and Ma had made smelled so good. Ma washed her
hands in the bucket and dried them on her dress. Ma said, “I have a minute. Sit
and I’ll braid your hair.”
Riva pulled her stool up near the table and sat. She was looking out the window.
She would see Pa when he got home. Ma pulled a chair up behind her, sat down,
then bent toward her, and kissed her cheek.
Riva felt Ma’s fingers combing though her hair, smoothing out the tangles. Riva
said, “Pa let me hold his sword this morning. It’s heavy.”
Ma said, “Did you like it? Would you like to learn to use the sword the way your
Pa learned?”
Riva knew Ma would not like it, but she said quietly, “I would miss you.”
Ma separated Riva’s hair into three sections and started to braid. Ma’s tone was
serious. “I will miss you, my girl. But we would be missing each other soon
enough. You are ten now and could marry at fourteen. You should marry a man
who will admire you. You should be educated. You could even marry a Lord if
you were educated. And, since you could use a sword, your husband would never
harm you.”
When Riva turned her head, Ma’s fingers lost their grip on the partial braid. Ma
laughed lightly. “Hold still, girl.”
Riva looked out the window again and asked skeptically, “Ma, why would a man
hurt his wife?”
Ma continued to braid, but did not answer until she was finished. As she tied the
braid off with a string, Ma said, “They do, sometimes.”
Riva whispered, “Has Pa ever hurt you?”
Ma leaned forward, kissed her cheek and said, “Never. He never will. He is a
good man. He is a priest of Jared. They don’t do that. But other men do.” Ma
coughed and cleared her throat.
Riva asked, “Which men?”
Ma ignored her and said, “It’s your turn to braid my hair.”
***
Riva asked, “Pa, what did you do when you were a priest?”
Pa had been working in the tanning shed behind their house all morning. His hairy
arms worked the paddle, stirring the stinking mixture in the barrel. Sweat ran
down his face and dripped off the iron key that hung around his neck. Pa cut his
eyes up to Riva without missing a stroke with the paddle. She thought he was
going to tell her to get back to her job of cleaning the mess that he had left at the
work table, but he said, “I’m still Jared’s Priest, Riva. That never goes away.”
Riva took a step closer to the open doorway where she could breathe more easily.
She said, “But before—when you were a priest every day—before us—what did
you do?”
“I was under the Vow for the ten years. I started when I was twenty, like most. I
took the Vow to guard a baron’s son. That boy that I guarded is the baron now.”
Riva asked, “The Baron of Innevar?”
Pa shook his head. “No, not our Baron. It was another baron, in a smaller barony,
far from Innevar, but still in the kingdom.”
He still had not told her to get back to her chores. Riva liked hearing this. Pa
always talked about the “now,” and never about the “then.” She pictured her
father under the Vow, every day wearing the armor and sword that he now only
wore a few times a year. “Did anybody try to hurt the baron’s son? Did you
protect him?”
Pa either laughed or grunted, then answered, “No. Nobody did.”
Riva stuck out her foot and looked down at her dirty toes peeking out from under
the equally dirty hem of her shift. “Why not?”
“Well, Krysander isn’t worth fighting over. It’s mostly rocks, with just a little
good valley land around the river. It’s easy to defend. No soldier in an army big
enough to conquer it would be able to get a decent share of the spoils. The Baron
of Krysander always says he’s neutral, but really he’s just not big enough to help
anybody or hinder anybody.”
She crinkled her toes back and forth. She leaned against the cluttered work table
and asked, “You didn’t get to fight? Isn’t that what Priests of Jared do? They
fight.”
He stopped what he was doing and was quiet until she looked up at him. “Jared
wants Guardians. He does not want killers. That’s for the dark gods. Honorable
service under the Vow is what we do for ten years. Some continue under the Vow
until they die. But ten years is what Jared asks.”
She felt uncomfortable with Pa looking at her, having paused from his work, but
she kept on. “If the Baron was safe, why did Jared send you?”
Pa shrugged, “The Grangers are the oldest noble line—because of their country
being . . . the way it is. And they have always been loyal to Jared. The barons are
loyal anyway. The people are like people everywhere. Farmers and trappers and
miners want gods that can help them with their work. So Jared’s Order sent a
priest to Krysander because Jared and the Grangers are old friends, even if they do
not speak every day. Old friends mean a lot to Jared.”
She nodded slowly, taking it all in. He grinned then. “No more questions? What is
this? You need to clean up that mess, girl. You never tried to get out of work
before and you don’t need to start now.”
He was still smiling, so she knew he was not angry, even though his tone was
grumpy. She stood there for another moment, trying to figure out how to ask
better questions, but she gave up and started organizing his jars and cleaning up the
spills.
***
It was turning cold now and some of the trees were losing their leaves. Riva and
Pa sat on the bank of the stream, still fishing, though they had caught more than
enough. Pa said, “Riva, we need to go home. Your mother needs time to cook
these before dark.”
Riva said quietly, “I don’t want to go.”
Pa said, “We have to. You need a good meal and plenty of sleep before
tomorrow. The guardian will be here to get you early.”
Riva could not stop her tears; but, with some effort, she did not sob. She
whispered, “We won’t get to do this again, Pa.”
Pa leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She could see tears coming to his
eyes, too. “Yes we will, girl. But you’ll be a woman then. We can take your kids
to this stream when they’re old enough. And you’ll probably catch even more fish
than you did today.”
On the walk home, Pa said, “I don’t want you to go. But we owe it to the God.”
Riva looked up at him. He was looking straight ahead as they walked.
“We owe it? How?”
He said, “Do you remember falling out of the tree?”
She nodded and said, “Yeah. I dream about it sometimes. Sometimes the dreams
are different from each other.”
Pa laughed and said, “It’s been six months and your mother remembers it different
than me. What do you think the true memory is, girl?”
Riva looked down at the ground as they walked. “I fell. Ma was in the house.
She must have seen me because she started screaming. You were in the tanning
shed. You ran out, but you were looking at the house and not at me. I don’t think
you saw me.”
Pa said, “I didn’t see you. Not until your mother ran toward you.”
Riva said, “I was scared that you were going to punish me because I wasn’t
supposed to climb trees. I climbed into that big gold egg—that thing on the
ground—it was as big as I was. I . . . guess I dreamed that part. Then I was in .
. . I didn’t know what it was . . . I guess it was a palace. A white room that
seemed as big as the whole world. But I was on a blue, something, part of the
floor was blue.
“I tried to get out, but the egg was gone. There was just an iron door in the white
wall behind me. Then a man was there. He was sitting in front of me. This part
of the dream is always the same. He says, ‘Riva, don’t be afraid. You’re mine
now.’ And that really scared me. I tried to scream but I couldn’t. My breath was
trapped inside me. I was trying to push the iron door open and then hands reached
through it and grabbed me. But it was you. You grabbed my hands and I was in
the yard again. And you and ma were screaming and hugging me. I think you
gave me water to drink and then I went to sleep.”
Pa was silent as they walked toward the house.
Riva said, “Was that what happened?”
Pa said, “That was what you told me. Or it was close. I didn’t see the room or
the man. But I saw the gold egg that you talked about. That was the door to the
Spirit World. That man was Jared.”
Riva said, “Was I really dead?”
Pa said, “You were. I could see the egg because Jared’s priests have a special way
of seeing things. You went into the egg—your spirit went in, your body was still
on the ground—but I reached in after you. I should not have been able to. Jared
does not give his priests the power to reach into the Spirit World and bring spirits
back. But I did.”
Riva said, “I’m glad you did.”
“I’m glad I did, too. But when people go through the door, they should stay. So
you have a debt to pay to Jared, and I do too.”
Riva picked up a pebble with her toes and tossed it in front of them. She was
afraid that Pa would be upset, but she figured she had better say it. “I don’t like
him. I don’t like Jared.”
Pa did not say anything for a while. Finally he said, “When I started my training I
didn’t love Jared either. I didn’t know Him.”
Riva said, “But you hadn’t seen him. He hadn’t . . . said anything to you.”
Pa said quietly, “No. But I love Him now. I understand now. You will too. There
are some things that you have to do before you can understand them.”
Riva said glumly, “I’m going to do it.” She didn’t bother to wipe the tears that
dripped off her chin.
Pa put his hand on her shoulder and hugged her to him as they walked.
At home they talked, they ate, they cried, they slept, and the next morning Riva left
for the Temple of Jared.
End of Chapter 1
Scythe of Silas (c) John Arkwright, 2007
Chapter 1: The Debt
In the dark Riva could hear Ma crying, “What did you do?”
Pa’s voice quivered. “I pulled her back. She’s alive.”
Riva could barely breathe, they hugged her so hard. Ma said, “Oh, girl. Oh, girl.
Are you sure she’s alive, Jon? Are you sure?”
“She died. I pulled her back.”
She died? Riva clutched at them as she started crying, too. Ma's kisses were hot
all over her face. Ma murmured something in between kisses.
“Are you all right, girl?” Pa asked, louder this time.
Her voice was squeaky when she answered through the sobs. “I’m all right.” She
opened her eyes and saw them. The big tree and the sky above them looked the
same as before, except maybe brighter.
Pa asked, “What happened, Riva?”
She started to talk, but her breath caught in her throat. She coughed with a sob
then managed to say, “I fell out of the tree. I’m sorry. I won’t climb it any more.
I won’t.”
“You knew better, Riva!” Ma said, still scared.
“Do you remember anything after you fell?” Pa asked.
Riva said, “I had a dream. There was a man in a white room.”
Ma said, “It was just a bad dream. We’re here now, girl. You’re all right. Oh, I
should have been watching you.”
“What did the man look like?” Pa asked.
Riva was shaking. “I’m cold.”
Ma said, “Let’s wrap her up. She’s cold. Take her inside, Jon.”
It was good to relax, feeling Pa’s strong arms bearing her up into the house, finally
putting her in her own bed. Ma covered her with the bear fur blanket and said, “I'll
get you some fresh water,” gave her a powerful hug, then hurried outside to the
well.
Pa sat by her side and held both her hands in his. “You saw a man?”
“He was big, Pa. Bigger than you. He was a priest like you with a sword and the
armor.”
“Did you . . . did you see anything else?”
“Just the man in the big white room. The door—it was iron.”
“And that’s all?”
“He knew my name. He said I was his.” She let go of Pa’s hands and grabbed
him, hugging him close, starting to cry again. “I’m yours. I’m not his.”
Pa whispered in her ear. “You’re mine, girl. Mine and Ma’s. But we’re all His.”
“All his?”
“Jared’s. We all go to the Spirit World someday, through that iron door.”
“I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here. Please.”
They stayed that way until Ma brought the water.
Riva must have gone to sleep after that. When she woke up she lay still, listening
to Ma and Pa talking quietly. She snuck a peek and saw they were at the table.
She moved her hand slowly up to her neck and felt the soft leather necklace, then
trailed her hand along it until she found her doll. She had been lying on it. She
slowly brought her doll to her cheek and nuzzled against her, barely whispering,
“It's all right, little sister. It’s all right.”
Pa was saying, “I don’t know how, Claire. I shouldn’t have been able to.”
“Jared gave her back to you because you’re his priest, Jon. That’s all.”
“No. He didn’t give her. I took her. Riva told me that He said she belonged to
Him. I shouldn’t have done it, Claire.”
“Well it’s too late now. She’s back where she should be.”
Nobody said anything for a while. Finally Pa said, “We have to give her back.”
***
Riva crawled on hands and knees, looking for a little hole in the ground, even too
small for her finger. She was near the big tree when she saw Pa leave the tanning
shed and go into the house to eat. She crept around the yard until she found a hole
near the house. She looked over her thin stalk of hangweed, and then spit on the
end. She put the wet end into the dirt and rolled it around until the stalk had a nice
mud coating. She slid the muddy end of the stalk into the little hole and rolled the
other end in her fingers. When she pulled the stalk out she saw the small white
worm clinging to the muddy end. She lowered the worm to the ground. When he
began to creep away, she jousted with him with the stalk.
She knew Ma would call her inside to eat soon. She could hear Ma and Pa talking
inside as he washed up from his morning’s work. Ma said, “I know what we have
to do.”
“About the elk skins? I’m sending them to Pargamont. He’s paying well for them
now.”
Ma was so quiet Riva could barely hear her. “About Riva.”
Riva caught her breath and peeked up into the window at them, careful that they
could not see her.
“I dreamed that she was a priest, Jon. She wore the mail and sword. I’ve
dreamed it for a week.”
Pa propped his elbow in the table and put his face in his hand. “Every night since
she fell?”
“Every night. It won’t stop.”
“What do you think it means, Claire?”
“She should be taught as a priest, same as you. She should be educated.”
Pa smiled, but then Riva saw that it was not a real smile. “Just like you want to be
educated?”
Ma took the bread off the fire and then sat opposite Pa. “Just like I want to be.
Her husband should not be better than she is.”
Pa didn’t try to argue this time about how learning was not important for tanners
and wives. He just stayed quiet.
“Is this a true sign, Jon? You know it is.”
“You want it to be.”
Ma said, “When you said that we’d have to give her back, I didn’t know what that
meant. I was afraid . . .” Riva didn’t hear the last part, Ma had said it so weakly.
“The God is not so cruel to ask that. I was almost certain of that. But if she
became a priestess—that would be hard.”
“It’s hard to pay debts. She would be one week buried if you hadn’t done it.” Her
voice quavered. She reached over for his hand and drew it to her, squeezing it to
her lips. “Jared’s priests will take her, won’t they?”
Pa sounded like he would cry. “They have had priestesses before. Not many,
though.”
“It will settle the debt, won’t it?”
She just barely heard Pa say, “Maybe. I’ll think on it.”
But Ma didn’t give him time to think on it. She said, “She’s ten years old, Jon.
We may not have her with us for long anyway. She could be married in four
years.”
“I want her to marry. She would live in the village. We could play with our
grandchildren. If she becomes a priestess, though . . . . life in the Order of Jared
is not a good life for a child. She would have friends in the order. She wants
friends. But there is no love, like you have for Riva.”
“It’s what’s best for her.”
Pa’s chin had been resting on his palm; now he hid his face in his hand. “Best for
her? In the Order she would have a priest’s life—the God’s life—the way of the
Guardian—she would learn to kill.”
“Jon, you have told me yourself that Riva should not have a life with us now—that
she has a debt to pay to Jared.”
Pa groaned, “I know, Claire. I know.”
“And a woman needs to learn to protect herself against men.”
Pa said quietly, “It won’t be that way for her.”
“You don’t know that. It is that way.”
He sighed heavily. “I won’t argue. I really can’t argue at all. I’ve had the same
dreams that you did. I was hoping they weren’t true.”
“You did?” Ma looked like someone had hit her.
Riva slumped down by the window. She looked at the white worm crawling
around like he was blind. She used her muddy stalk to herd him back into his
hole. She crossed her legs and took hold of her sister with both hands, holding her
out in front of her on the necklace. Pa had made her sister and the necklace, too.
That way Riva could always keep her close by, even when she was working with
Ma or Pa or playing.
Riva was pretty sure Ma and Pa were saying that she would have to go away—that
they would make her a priest like Pa was. She thought about how Pa looked in his
armor and with his sword. It was like he was a different person—like a hero from
one of the stories he told her. Ma and Pa had those dreams about her wearing that
armor. But she could not picture herself in it.
***
“Can I hold the sword?” Riva asked.
Pa was standing at the door, just about to go into the village to buy supplies. He
looked down at her for a long time before saying, “Yes. But you must be careful.”
He reached up to the peg beside the door and took the belted scabbard that held his
sword. He drew the sword and inspected it. He nodded. “Hold it here.”
He knelt and showed Riva where to put her hand, but she figured that out before he
showed her. He warned her. “It’s heavy.”
She said, “I know.”
When he took his hand away from the hilt, the sword’s tip immediately dropped
straight to the floor with a thunk. He smiled. “I warned you.”
She said, “It is heavy. Why does it have to be so heavy?”
He said, “The sword is for killing. It must be powerful. And part of that power
means it is heavy. But, as swords go, this one is light. It is made from the
Goddess’s metal—Eleir’s metal, by her priests—they are all smiths. Jared’s
strength makes it even lighter to me. It is no heavier to a priest who has the
Jared's strength than his own hand is.”
Riva put both her hands on the hilt and managed to lift the tip from the floor. Riva
said, “Ma wants me to be a priest, but you don’t.”
He said again, “Careful.”
He looked her over. “So you heard our discussions. What do you want, Riva?
Have you thought about it?”
She looked up to him, with the sword wavering in her grip. “I want to live with
you. I don’t want to leave.”
Pa nodded. He put his hand on hers to take the sword. Then he looked at her
straight on. He seemed confused for a few heartbeats, as if he were wondering
what he should do next. Then he relaxed and smiled. His eyes were soft. His
voice was quiet. He said, “I love you, Riva Tanner.” But he didn’t sound like Pa.
His voice sounded like the man in the white room. Like Jared’s voice.
“Pa?” He didn’t say anything. She protested, “Don’t do that.”
Pa’s eyes flickered with confusion again. He shook his head and stood, sheathing
the sword and replacing it on the peg. “Your mother and I will do what’s best for
you, my girl. Right now, I have to go into town and you have work to do with
Ma.”
***
Pa was going to be back from town any time now. Riva wished he would hurry,
because the soup that she and Ma had made smelled so good. Ma washed her
hands in the bucket and dried them on her dress. Ma said, “I have a minute. Sit
and I’ll braid your hair.”
Riva pulled her stool up near the table and sat. She was looking out the window.
She would see Pa when he got home. Ma pulled a chair up behind her, sat down,
then bent toward her, and kissed her cheek.
Riva felt Ma’s fingers combing though her hair, smoothing out the tangles. Riva
said, “Pa let me hold his sword this morning. It’s heavy.”
Ma said, “Did you like it? Would you like to learn to use the sword the way your
Pa learned?”
Riva knew Ma would not like it, but she said quietly, “I would miss you.”
Ma separated Riva’s hair into three sections and started to braid. Ma’s tone was
serious. “I will miss you, my girl. But we would be missing each other soon
enough. You are ten now and could marry at fourteen. You should marry a man
who will admire you. You should be educated. You could even marry a Lord if
you were educated. And, since you could use a sword, your husband would never
harm you.”
When Riva turned her head, Ma’s fingers lost their grip on the partial braid. Ma
laughed lightly. “Hold still, girl.”
Riva looked out the window again and asked skeptically, “Ma, why would a man
hurt his wife?”
Ma continued to braid, but did not answer until she was finished. As she tied the
braid off with a string, Ma said, “They do, sometimes.”
Riva whispered, “Has Pa ever hurt you?”
Ma leaned forward, kissed her cheek and said, “Never. He never will. He is a
good man. He is a priest of Jared. They don’t do that. But other men do.” Ma
coughed and cleared her throat.
Riva asked, “Which men?”
Ma ignored her and said, “It’s your turn to braid my hair.”
***
Riva asked, “Pa, what did you do when you were a priest?”
Pa had been working in the tanning shed behind their house all morning. His hairy
arms worked the paddle, stirring the stinking mixture in the barrel. Sweat ran
down his face and dripped off the iron key that hung around his neck. Pa cut his
eyes up to Riva without missing a stroke with the paddle. She thought he was
going to tell her to get back to her job of cleaning the mess that he had left at the
work table, but he said, “I’m still Jared’s Priest, Riva. That never goes away.”
Riva took a step closer to the open doorway where she could breathe more easily.
She said, “But before—when you were a priest every day—before us—what did
you do?”
“I was under the Vow for the ten years. I started when I was twenty, like most. I
took the Vow to guard a baron’s son. That boy that I guarded is the baron now.”
Riva asked, “The Baron of Innevar?”
Pa shook his head. “No, not our Baron. It was another baron, in a smaller barony,
far from Innevar, but still in the kingdom.”
He still had not told her to get back to her chores. Riva liked hearing this. Pa
always talked about the “now,” and never about the “then.” She pictured her
father under the Vow, every day wearing the armor and sword that he now only
wore a few times a year. “Did anybody try to hurt the baron’s son? Did you
protect him?”
Pa either laughed or grunted, then answered, “No. Nobody did.”
Riva stuck out her foot and looked down at her dirty toes peeking out from under
the equally dirty hem of her shift. “Why not?”
“Well, Krysander isn’t worth fighting over. It’s mostly rocks, with just a little
good valley land around the river. It’s easy to defend. No soldier in an army big
enough to conquer it would be able to get a decent share of the spoils. The Baron
of Krysander always says he’s neutral, but really he’s just not big enough to help
anybody or hinder anybody.”
She crinkled her toes back and forth. She leaned against the cluttered work table
and asked, “You didn’t get to fight? Isn’t that what Priests of Jared do? They
fight.”
He stopped what he was doing and was quiet until she looked up at him. “Jared
wants Guardians. He does not want killers. That’s for the dark gods. Honorable
service under the Vow is what we do for ten years. Some continue under the Vow
until they die. But ten years is what Jared asks.”
She felt uncomfortable with Pa looking at her, having paused from his work, but
she kept on. “If the Baron was safe, why did Jared send you?”
Pa shrugged, “The Grangers are the oldest noble line—because of their country
being . . . the way it is. And they have always been loyal to Jared. The barons are
loyal anyway. The people are like people everywhere. Farmers and trappers and
miners want gods that can help them with their work. So Jared’s Order sent a
priest to Krysander because Jared and the Grangers are old friends, even if they do
not speak every day. Old friends mean a lot to Jared.”
She nodded slowly, taking it all in. He grinned then. “No more questions? What is
this? You need to clean up that mess, girl. You never tried to get out of work
before and you don’t need to start now.”
He was still smiling, so she knew he was not angry, even though his tone was
grumpy. She stood there for another moment, trying to figure out how to ask
better questions, but she gave up and started organizing his jars and cleaning up the
spills.
***
It was turning cold now and some of the trees were losing their leaves. Riva and
Pa sat on the bank of the stream, still fishing, though they had caught more than
enough. Pa said, “Riva, we need to go home. Your mother needs time to cook
these before dark.”
Riva said quietly, “I don’t want to go.”
Pa said, “We have to. You need a good meal and plenty of sleep before
tomorrow. The guardian will be here to get you early.”
Riva could not stop her tears; but, with some effort, she did not sob. She
whispered, “We won’t get to do this again, Pa.”
Pa leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She could see tears coming to his
eyes, too. “Yes we will, girl. But you’ll be a woman then. We can take your kids
to this stream when they’re old enough. And you’ll probably catch even more fish
than you did today.”
On the walk home, Pa said, “I don’t want you to go. But we owe it to the God.”
Riva looked up at him. He was looking straight ahead as they walked.
“We owe it? How?”
He said, “Do you remember falling out of the tree?”
She nodded and said, “Yeah. I dream about it sometimes. Sometimes the dreams
are different from each other.”
Pa laughed and said, “It’s been six months and your mother remembers it different
than me. What do you think the true memory is, girl?”
Riva looked down at the ground as they walked. “I fell. Ma was in the house.
She must have seen me because she started screaming. You were in the tanning
shed. You ran out, but you were looking at the house and not at me. I don’t think
you saw me.”
Pa said, “I didn’t see you. Not until your mother ran toward you.”
Riva said, “I was scared that you were going to punish me because I wasn’t
supposed to climb trees. I climbed into that big gold egg—that thing on the
ground—it was as big as I was. I . . . guess I dreamed that part. Then I was in .
. . I didn’t know what it was . . . I guess it was a palace. A white room that
seemed as big as the whole world. But I was on a blue, something, part of the
floor was blue.
“I tried to get out, but the egg was gone. There was just an iron door in the white
wall behind me. Then a man was there. He was sitting in front of me. This part
of the dream is always the same. He says, ‘Riva, don’t be afraid. You’re mine
now.’ And that really scared me. I tried to scream but I couldn’t. My breath was
trapped inside me. I was trying to push the iron door open and then hands reached
through it and grabbed me. But it was you. You grabbed my hands and I was in
the yard again. And you and ma were screaming and hugging me. I think you
gave me water to drink and then I went to sleep.”
Pa was silent as they walked toward the house.
Riva said, “Was that what happened?”
Pa said, “That was what you told me. Or it was close. I didn’t see the room or
the man. But I saw the gold egg that you talked about. That was the door to the
Spirit World. That man was Jared.”
Riva said, “Was I really dead?”
Pa said, “You were. I could see the egg because Jared’s priests have a special way
of seeing things. You went into the egg—your spirit went in, your body was still
on the ground—but I reached in after you. I should not have been able to. Jared
does not give his priests the power to reach into the Spirit World and bring spirits
back. But I did.”
Riva said, “I’m glad you did.”
“I’m glad I did, too. But when people go through the door, they should stay. So
you have a debt to pay to Jared, and I do too.”
Riva picked up a pebble with her toes and tossed it in front of them. She was
afraid that Pa would be upset, but she figured she had better say it. “I don’t like
him. I don’t like Jared.”
Pa did not say anything for a while. Finally he said, “When I started my training I
didn’t love Jared either. I didn’t know Him.”
Riva said, “But you hadn’t seen him. He hadn’t . . . said anything to you.”
Pa said quietly, “No. But I love Him now. I understand now. You will too. There
are some things that you have to do before you can understand them.”
Riva said glumly, “I’m going to do it.” She didn’t bother to wipe the tears that
dripped off her chin.
Pa put his hand on her shoulder and hugged her to him as they walked.
At home they talked, they ate, they cried, they slept, and the next morning Riva left
for the Temple of Jared.
End of Chapter 1
Scythe of Silas (c) John Arkwright, 2007
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