Ganne


04 - An Old Woman's Folly In Marble.


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Guara descended the flight of broad, shallow steps into the Memorial
Gardens.  At her back, the Palace loomed dark against the dawn.  The sky
in the west was still dark.  A few lonely stars still twinkled against the
background of the Great Abyss in which the island galaxies floated.

Guara paused at the foot of the steps, allowing her mind to fall into the
depth-less black of the nearly empty sky.  She loved the winter, when the
world turned its back on the galaxy; and the sky emptied of the great,
misty stain of light they called the Goddess's Milk.  Guara loved to let
her mind fall endlessly into that infinite dark; but there was no time for
that now.  Besides, it was only early autumn; and the stain of the
Goddess's Milk could still be seen on clear evenings, low down in the
west.

Guara wondered if she would still be alive at Nine Week, Ten Day to joy in
the truly empty sky of Midwinter?  This venture she was about to set upon
was dangerous.  In the normal course of events, she would never have
considered it for an instant; but the promise of revenge long awaited, and
a bitter anger nursed into an incandescent flame, had given her no choice.

Dealing with that foul and treacherous creature at Starnford would be
dangerous for her personally; but the chance to right the hideous wrongs
he had compelled her to could not be passed up.  Nor could she let pass
this chance for revenge against that high born bitch, Genella Bah Dishone.

Guara felt a feather light touch on her arm.  She glanced around to see
the Viper at her side.  The girl's hand was stretched out, the long
slender fingers stroking the heavy dun fabric of Guara's riding cloak.
The hood of the girl's cloak was thrown back.  Her pale face was framed by
a riotous tumble of silky black hair.  The eyes, pale blue and vague, were
radiating a distant inquiry.

Guara took the offered hand with gentleness; She held a real and deep
affection for the thing.  It was not just it's iron loyalty and dedication
to her well being which endeared her to the creature.  Nor that it would
kill anyone she pointed out to it, with despatch, without question, and
without mercy, which kept her own back safe from attack.  These things
were absolute necessities to one as high and hated as Guara knew herself
to be.  The real truth was that she felt a deep affinity for the crippled
thing; because like herself, it was cursed with too much Ganne, and under
a sentence of death.

"It's alright, Angela," Guara soothed.  "I must make my visit before we
leave.  Come!"

The Ganne Witch Supreme, de facto Queen of the Ganne Lands, Protector of
the Ballan Tah and the Gynarchy, Matriarch of her People, stepped into the
Memorial Gardens, hand in hand with the monstrous thing she had nurtured
from the day of its birth, and for all the days thereafter of its hideous
little life.

They progressed at a stately pace along the gravel pathways winding among
the flower beds and lawns.  Every few feet, they passed a life-sized
statue of a woman standing at the side of the paths.  Guara did not need
to stoop to read the inscriptions on the granite plinths; she knew them
all by heart.

Guara had begun her bloody and violent climb to the High Seat in these
very gardens.  Her father and mother had tended this elaborate ensemble of
statuary and horticulture.  His father and mother had done so before him.
Her parents had not been particularly happy to find that their first born
daughter was Strong in the Ganne.  It did not please them; but the Will of
the Goddess be done.

Guara stopped before a particular statue.  The carven countenance, framed
by the stone tresses, had a quality about it that suggested a younger
version of Guara.  She reached up a hand to touch the serenity of the
young woman's features.  The marble was cold, hard and smooth.  The stone
showed little weathering.  It had been placed here less than ten years
ago.

With tender fingers, she stroked the cheek.  "Malincha," she sighed.  That
one word was so laden with grief and pain that the Viper looked up at her,
something dark and mysterious moving in the pale blue vacancy of the eyes.
A tiny sparkle of moisture materialised in the corners.

The Viper lifted a finger, touched the wetness, puzzled.  Angela held up
her damply shining finger tip for Guara's inspection.  The Matriarch
frowned down at it.  Then she put her own finger to the glistening cheeks
of the Viper.  A look of profound wonder softened the hard lines of
Guara's face.

"Tears?" she breathed wonderingly.  She stroked the wet cheek gently with
the tip of her finger.  "Tears?" she whispered again.  She laid hands on
the girls shoulders, peering into a face full of apprehension and
bewilderment.  "Angela...They are tears...You are crying, Angela...
Crying...  It's nothing to fear."

The girl touched fingers to her glistening cheeks, sniffed the moisture,
and looked a question up into the old woman's face.  Guara smiled
reassuringly at her.  She laid a hand along the fine lines of the cheek,
stroking gently.  The slight snake-like scaling pattern of the winter
skin, brought out by the dawn chill, rasped ever so faintly.

"It's alright, child," Guara soothed.  "It is not harmful.  You are
crying, that's all.  I'm a bit sad just now.  I'm an old woman, my Ganne
Shield is not as strong as it once was.  It will not harm you my pet.  It
is called sadness.  It cannot hurt you, not you, of all the people in the
world; it cannot touch you."

A faint, experimental smile quirked the mouth of the young woman.  The
expression faded almost before it was fully formed.  The unusual intensity
in the pale eyes faded as suddenly.  As was her nature, Angela lost
interest in this new thing.  She turned away, and glided to a flower bed.
With her usual abstracted air in place once more, she began to examine one
of the late blooming flowers.  Guara studied the Viper for a long moment,
wondering; then she turned back to the statue of Malincha.

"Guara's Abomination!"

That was how all those Strong in the Ganne thought of it.  A few - the
ones that would need careful watching - even said it to her face.  Of
course, they were correct.  This statue of her dead daughter was an
abomination.  Only those who had served the Ganne could be granted the
honour of an Image in the Memorial Gardens.  Malincha had not been Strong
in the Ganne.  Indeed, she had not even been a Ganne Sensitive.  The Image
was here only so long as guara was Matriarch.

A thin, humorless smile tugged at her old lips.  This Image of her
daughter would not outlive her by very long.  When those spiteful bitches
had done with kicking her corpse, even before she was cold, they would be
down here with hammers.

Guara shrugged.  Well, it was only an old woman's folly in marble.  She
had no regrets.  Angela, though, was another matter.  They would loose no
time in finding a safe method for disposing of her.  That Guara did
regret.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel path, respectfully stopping some distance
off.  "Madam?" Sehko inquired; "the raiding party is assembled."

"I'm just coming, Sehko." Guara said.  She took one last long look at the
carven features of her long dead daughter, and turned with resolution from
her ancient grief.

Sehko held out a small leather pouch to Guara as the older woman came
level.  "I have those items you requested."

Guara took the sack, drew the strings, fished inside and brought out a
small matte black oblong threaded on a thong.  She weighed it thoughtfully
a moment, peered into the little sack to assure herself of its contents,
then dropped it back and drew the strings closed.  She set off along the
path.

"Come along!" she urged.  "They'll be in a foul mood at having to turn out
so early.  There's no point in antagonising the bitches any more than
necessary by keeping them standing around in the cold."

The two Ganne left the gardens, trailed at a discrete distance by the
Viper.  Every now and then the girl would put a finger to her cheek.


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