Chapter 27: Three Familiar Faces

Danka and Isauria spent several days traveling northwest through the forest along paths that were barely visible to anyone not accustomed to navigating the backcountry. Danka walked in front of the mule while Isauria held her new crossbow and watched for potential trouble. Danka enjoyed those days of walking, of exploring the forest while not having to carry anything, of feeling the cool breezes blowing against her exposed body. She was able to clear her mind and enjoy the moment, knowing that troubles and responsibilities would catch up with her soon enough. But for now, to just casually walk through the forest, with her belongings on the mule and her former servant watching over her with her crossbow, that was enough for Danka to momentarily feel at peace with the Realm of the Living.

The travelers were silent when they were moving, but chatted about many things when they were resting. Danka continued with Isauria’s education, teaching her about rock formations and explaining how flowing streams had shaped the land they were passing through. They exchanged stories about their lives in Malenkta-Gordnackta and their troubled relationships with the family of Alexandrekt Bulashckt. Danka later talked about the towns and villages in the western valley she had seen when she was a member of the Followers of the Ancients.

When Danka described Sebernekt Ris and the university, Isauria seemed especially interested. The more Danka told her companion about her experiences there, the more the girl wanted to see the city herself. Every detail fascinated her, the waterfall, the cliffs full of Royal Guards and cannons, the hills, the strange foreign country to the north, and especially the details of student life. Danka found Isauria’s interest in the university surprising, because she was not an intellectual. She seemed much more suited for running around with a sword or a crossbow than sitting at a desk with a quill in her hand. But, maybe there was a hidden side of Isauria, because the teenager kept asking questions and returning to the topic of Danka’s university time.

“I’d like to do that, I mean, what you did when you came back from the Kingdom. You wrote all about the war in Aksheriri Ris. Because of that, people won’t forget. They’ll always know who was there, and what happened. You told everyone’s story with your report. I think that’s really wonderful. Because, there wasn’t anyone to tell the story of my village. The Lord of the Blue Moon’s men came in, they killed most of us, and then they left. Now no one remembers and no one cares. You saw it for yourself when you went through, didn’t you?”

“It was abandoned. You’re right about that.”

There was a long pause. Then Isauria asked: “When you were there, at the university, did you see any foreigners?”

“Oh yes. Many foreigners. Including people from the Kingdom of the Moon.”

“Do you think the university would accept someone like me?”

“I have no idea, Isauria. No idea at all if they’d take you. I think they would if you had a recommendation from a Priest or a town elder, and if you could show up with writing samples, maybe give them an idea of what kinds of research you’d be able to do and what topics interest you.”

Danka thought about the thick packets of parchment in her bucket, all those heavy papers that made it unpleasant to carry. They had a lot of information that perhaps would be useful to future generations, so there was no way Danka could part with all that work. All that writing and research ... she didn’t have time to develop it, but she’d gladly turn it over to someone who could appreciate it, who’d work with it and could put it into a publishable format and share it with others...

She caught her breath. Isauria. Why not give the papers to Isauria and enroll her in the university? She could spend the next four years of her life working with all that material and adding it to the university’s historical archives. Yes, that was a solution to two problems. Isauria wouldn’t have to come up with any research topics: she had everything she needed in those packages. Being from the Kingdom of the Moon, she could look at the wars of 1754 and 1758 from a unique perspective. She didn’t want to make any promises to the teenager about the university, but there wasn’t any reason they couldn’t at least go there and look at the town.

“Then we have a place to go. I need to return to the capitol anyway. Sebernekt Ris is just to the north and I can give you the chance to see it.”

Their path led well to the north of the three villages and the now-empty garrison. Danka had hoped to find a trail that would lead back in the direction of Horkustk Ris province, but it turned out there was no such path. Instead, a mountain loomed ahead and the trail veered to the right, which meant Danka and Isauria were heading almost straight north. Danka recognized the mountain, because it also was visible from Starivktaki Moskt, the town where Danka had spent her first year away from home living in the Old Believers’ seminary. Danka looked towards their destination with anxiety: she did not want to return to Starivktaki Moskt and risk running into the High Priest or anyone else associated with the Temple.

As the women descended the foothills, sure enough, there it was, Starivktaki Moskt. Fortunately there was a fork in the trail that veered to the right and would emerge into open farmland to the north of the old provincial town, which meant that Danka and Isauria could bypass it. Isauria was clearly disappointed about not having the chance to see Starivktaki Moskt, because from a distance it looked like a really nice place. Danka responded:

“I’m a fugitive in that city. I’m sure they’d welcome me back, but only so they could put five arrows into my chest.”

They emerged near the Rika Chorna river and took a ferry across. They passed the road going northeast towards the Vice Duchy of Rika Chorna, went over a low hill, and emerged onto the main road going north to Severckt nad Goradki. Danka felt a lot of personal pain as she entered the familiar stretch of countryside, thinking about her trip with Bagaturckt seven years before and how she was so naively in love with him.

The women traveled along the main road until sunset, making a very strange sight. Danka was still naked and wearing her penance collar, as she walked accompanied by a very young-looking maiden with black hair, wearing a trader’s outfit, and sitting with a crossbow on top of an over-loaded mule. Isauria’s wide eyes took in all the sights, because now she was in the western valley, the very heart of the Grand Duchy of Upper Danubia.

Danka thought about the best route to take towards Sebernekt Ris. There were two options: go directly northwest between the towns of Nagoronkti-Serifkti and Daguruckt-Tok (avoiding going into both places if at all possible), or go first to Severckt nad Goradki and try to use the old forest trail built by the Followers of the Ancients. Severckt nad Goradki had an advantage and a disadvantage: her former lover Kaloyankt. There was no question he would help Isauria, but did Danka really want to see him again? What would she tell him about her life since she last saw him? How would she feel, looking at his elegant wife, knowing he’d probably leave her in a heartbeat if she gave him any indication she loved him? She could face enemies with a crossbow, but was she strong enough to face a man she mistreated? No. She was not strong enough to do that, not even for Isauria. She couldn’t return to Severckt nad Goradki. She’d have to take the diagonal route across the farming country of the western valley.

It was getting dark, so the travelers had to stop for the night. Setting up a campfire and sleeping in the forest was no longer an option. They’d have to find a Church and Danka would have to use her status as a Public Penitent to request safe lodging. Fortunately there was a small town called Gordnackt Suyastenckt just a short distance to the west of the main road. They entered the town, approached the Church, and Danka looked for a Priest or Priestess. Following protocol, she knelt and stretched her hands on the ground in front of her while the attendant summoned the ordained Clergy members. It was very strange for Isauria to see her former mentor in that position, kneeling with her hands on the ground, her legs spread, and her back arched to expose herself in absolute humility. Well, it was what she had to do. Danka and Isauria needed a place to sleep and a decent meal, which meant following Church protocol. Danka whispered to Isauria that she needed to kneel as well, but to remain upright and not to put her hands on the ground or spread her knees.

The Priestess came out and told the penitent to kneel upright. When Danka looked into the face of the Clergywoman, she felt her heart stop, because she was looking into the face of her former mentor from the Seminary, the student who first taught her how to read and exposed her mind to the world of education. As a Priestess, the woman had aged, but very clearly she was Danka’s old mentor, with the same haughty expression and strict demeanor she had eight years before.

“You look very young, Penitent. Obviously the passage of time has been kinder to you than it’s been to me.”

“Thank you, Priestess.”

The Priestess ordered Isauria to stand up, take the mule to a nearby stable and unsaddle him, the to report to the Church bath house so she could clean up for the evening meal and prayers. That left Danka alone with the Priestess. Danka’s knees quivered, because had she known her old mentor was the Priestess of Gordnackt Suyastenckt, there was no way she would have wanted to stop there. The Priestess took her visitor into the study that she shared with her husband and shut the door. Danka, not knowing what else to do, assumed the kneeling position.

“Stand up, Penitent. Stand up and face me.”

When Danka stood up, the Priestess continued:

“I prayed that I’d have this moment. I prayed for seven years I’d have you standing in front of me. The Creator answered my prayer by delivering you into my hands, so you can answer my question.”

“What question is that, Priestess?”

“As though you wouldn’t know? What do you think my question would be? I want to know how you defeated the High Priest’s son. How did you manage to kill him?”

“I didn’t kill him, Priestess. The Destroyer killed him. I was with him, however, and I did see what happened.”

Danka spent the next hour describing in detail how Bagaturckt took her into “the Graveyard of Virtue”, how the house servant comforted her afterwards and gave her advice, the ill-fated trip into the forest to hunt for “the Joy of the Ancients”, and finally how Bagaturckt ended up hanging on a branch. She also explained how it was Babackt Yaga who drove a stake in the back of the corpse and put out the sign. She concluded with: “I wish I had more to do with his death, because I hated him as much as you did, and for the same reason. But no, I was just a bystander. A mere witness.”

“That is the strangest story I’ve ever heard. People in Starivktaki Moskt have made up plenty of weird stories about you and what happened to Bagaturckt, but no one ever came up with anything as bizarre as that.” The Priestess smiled, the first time Danka had ever seen her smile. “Well, I can say hearing all that was worth the seven-year wait.”

“So, I was right to stay away from Starivktaki Moskt?”

“Oh, very much so. You’re quite the villain at the Seminary. I have the vicious seducer and cruel murderer of poor dear pious Bagaturckt, the son of the High Priest, standing right in front of me. You’re still wanted. The new High Priest keeps a couple of old fugitive posters inside the Temple, just in case anyone happens to see you. If I wanted to turn you in, I’d probably receive a promotion and most certainly a blessing from the entire Temple.” The Priestess smiled again. “Not that my turning you in is likely to happen.”

The Priestess interrupted the conversation so they could join the rest of the Church staff and penitents for dinner at a dining hall owned by the town’s most wealthy landlord. Danka and Isauria saw the Priestess’s husband sitting at the head of the table. He seemed shocked to see her, but his wife silenced him by quickly drawing her fist across her chest to warn him not to say anything until she had a chance to explain to him what was going on with their fugitive guest. At dinner Danka could see why the Priestess had aged: she had three children. Also seated at the table were three penitents and an apprentice.

Danka cleaned up in the bath house and made sure Isauria was settled in bed before seeking out the Priestess. Just a few hours before, she would have done anything possible to avoid seeing anyone from her past, but it seemed the woman could be trusted and had nothing against her. Danka was comforted at the thought of seeing and talking to someone familiar.

The Priestess took her back to the study and closed the door. For a while the Clergywoman did most of the talking, updating Danka on events in Starivktaki Moskt and the surrounding region and also giving some details about her own life and family. The conversation lasted well into the night, as the Priestess updated Danka on events throughout the western valley. Danka found out some details about Severckt nad Goradki and how her former lover Kaloyankt had used his family’s influence to consolidate control over the town for the Grand Duke and the Old Believers’ faction of the Church. The Old Believers also took over the parish in Nagoronkti-Serifkti following the very public display of madness and evil by the leading priest of the True Believers. Danka explained her part in the incident, but added that she never found out what happened to the priest after she and her companions fled the town. Now she knew how much her Lilith ploy really did change the course of Nagoronkti-Serifkti’s history.

They chatted all night. Sunrise already had passed when Danka and the her former mentor finished talking. It was obvious she and Isauria would not be departing that day, because it was raining heavily and traveling would be unpleasant. More importantly, the visitor and her former mentor wanted to continue exchanging experiences and information. Danka rested while Isauria took care of the mule and cleaned up and organized their equipment. That night the Church apprentice asked the teenager to entertain him and the penitents by describing her travels through the mountains and Horkustk Ris province.

While Isauria was occupied with the Church staff, Danka resumed the conversation with the Clergywoman. Now it was her turn to talk. She needed to describe her life, to confess, to make sense out of all the weird things that had happened to her over the past eight years. The Priestess listened to the torrent of information, trying to comprehend how all those strange and unpleasant experiences could have happened to a single person. And yet, she believed everything Danka told her. Even if there was something she didn’t believe, Danka had all those notes and writings in her bucket to prove she was telling the truth. Had the Priestess questioned anything, chances were her doubts could have been resolved by reading her papers.

So, over a two-day period Danka unburdened all of the secrets she had kept to herself for eight years, from her sentence on the pillory for petty theft to her departure from the Defenders’ winter encampment with Isauria. The only detail she did not share was the fact her Public Penance collar was not a real one issued by the Church. At the beginning of her travels she had promised Farmer Tuko Orsktackt she’d never divulge that secret and she would stay loyal to that promise. When the Priestess asked about her collar, she presented the certificate with the alias Vesna Roguskt given to her by the Defenders’ Priest. The Priestess decided not to pursue that issue. The certificate was issued by an ordained Priest, even if he was a renegade militia cleric, and it did look authentic. Given Danka’s situation, it was better that she was traveling under an alias anyway.

The most difficult episode for Danka was describing her two years with the Grand Duke and the ongoing humiliation of being a pleasure slave and having dozens of the ruler’s household staff seeing her every day with her hair loosened. When the Priestess responded that Danka shouldn’t be ashamed of something she had no control over, the visitor countered:

“But it was my fault. More than anything else I ever did, my internment in His Majesty’s castle was my fault. My mind was full of hubris, I had evil thoughts of using the Church to pursue my own fantasies, and the Ancients punished me for that hubris.”

Danka held back tears as she described the circumstances under which she left the university and the thoughts going on in her head the moment the Grand Duke and his entourage spotted her in the Plaza of the Ancients. The Priestess responded:

“So let’s consider what happened. It was your knowledge of the Followers’ explosives that helped His Majesty win two, not one, but two battles in Horkustk Ris. It was because of you he withdrew the Royal Guards from Sumy Ris, just in time to avoid a disastrous defeat. You comforted your companions and because of you many of them became better women. In those two years you accomplished more than all of His Majesty’s ministers together. Because of you, the Duchy is safe and strong. The Creator blessed the Duchy and protected it during those difficult years, through you. It was your Path in Life to provide wisdom to His Majesty so he could carry out his Path in Life as a competent ruler. So, it was not your fault you ended up in the Royal Household. It was your Path in Life. And when your usefulness to the Duchy as a concubine ended, the Creator allowed you to leave and serve the Duchy elsewhere. Yes, you committed the sin of hubris, but that sin was necessary for you to fulfill your purpose.”

Danka knelt forward and placed her hands on the ground. She had confessed to the person who would have been the one most likely to judge her harshly, but there was no such harsh judgment. Instead, the Priestess encouraged her to look at herself in a more forgiving manner, and to understand that her suffering and humiliation were part of the Creator’s larger plan to protect the Danubian people in a time of extreme danger.

The Priestess stood up and told Danka to kneel upright and hold onto her hands. She gripped them very tightly and her arms trembled as she prayed. When she finished, she ordered Danka to stand up.

“I saw your future. The Path in Life the Creator has placed in front of you will include another act of redemption, a very significant act of redemption, not just for you, but for many others. But that lies in the future. This summer you’ll still have to travel. If you’re going to the capitol, you’ll need to continue your journey.”

Danka had one outstanding issue to ask about before leaving; if it would be possible to write a recommendation for Isauria to enter the university in Sebernekt Ris.

“I will, but any such document would be for next year, not this year. I can’t write a letter of recommendation unless I know her and can say that, in the eyes of the Creator, she’d make a good scholar. You’ve done an admirable job teaching her certain skills, but you couldn’t do everything and the girl’s knowledge needs refinement. Also, she’s 14. She shouldn’t enroll until she’s at least 15. I don’t want to write a lie on her letter about her age.”

“But, what can I do? I don’t think she should stay with me.”

“No. She shouldn’t. You’ve been an excellent mentor for her, but I know your Paths in Life must separate. I also know you would be doing her a great disservice simply taking her to Sebernekt Ris and thinking that she could withstand being separated from you, precisely at the time she’s starting new studies with a bunch of people she doesn’t know. She would be lost, quit within a month, go looking for you, and probably risk being captured by brigands and re-enslaved. She needs a period of transition, to prepare mentally and spiritually before she goes to Sebernekt Ris.”

“Do you think you could provide her with that transition?”

“I could. I’d spend the winter helping her prepare the notes you’re planning to give her, so when she goes to the university those reports would already be prepared for publishing. She’d know the material, so that it would be hers as much as yours. I can do that for you, for both of you. Then, next summer she’ll go to Sebernekt Ris, and I will be proud to send her off with my recommendation and my blessing.”

Danka separated the papers that she’d leave behind, the packages that would provide Isauria with the work she’d need to attend the university and enter Danubian society as an educated adult. She also took Isauria’s slavery and emancipation certificates to hand over to the Priestess. She wanted to make sure the Danubian Church had, in its possession, proof Isauria was not a slave and hadn’t been for a couple of years. Danka re-packed her bucket with her medicines, recipes, her two collaring certificates, her supply of salt, the brush and thread to keep her teeth clean, and the silver coin given to her by Tuko Orsktackt. There were other coins, but she’d leave those behind so Isauria could buy herself a nice dress before going to the university.

Isauria was not happy when she found out about Danka’s plans to leave her behind. It took a full day for both Danka and the Priestess to reason with her, explaining that if she wanted to attend the university, she had to spend the next year getting ready and only the Priestess could help her prepare. Also, now that Isauria was about to become a ward of the Church, she would be much less likely to ever be re-enslaved, in spite of her dark hair and foreign appearance. The Priestess explained the need for Isauria to spend several months converting Danka’s writings into real reports and that only through correctly-written works could either Danka or Isauria complete their obligations to “bear witness” to all the events they had witnessed over the past several years. When Isauria’s determination to leave with Danka finally started to weaken, Danka took her to the Church garden.

“There is something else you need to know about me. I carry with me the Destroyer’s curse. Everyone I’ve ever loved, even remotely, has had their soul separated from their body, and I had to bear witness to that separation. There is only one person I loved who ever escaped, and that is because she was lucky enough to be separated from me before my curse caught up with her. You have no idea how much it meant to me that she survived, that one person I loved, when all the others died. It was always my fear that you’d fall victim to my curse as well. Had that happened, I would have hated myself even more than I do now. Isauria, you have the chance to get away from me before it’s too late. It would mean a lot to me to see that happen, to leave you behind and know that you will prosper and lead a Path in Life that serves the Creator, that you won’t fall victim to whatever the Destroyer has planned for my future. If you love me as much as you say you do, if you care for me as much as I care for you, you won’t put me through having to witness your soul separate from your body.”

Danka put her head in her hands. Leaving Isauria turned out to be harder than she realized. The girl was both a daughter and a younger sister to her, but like all children, the time was coming when she’d have to pursue her own Path in Life. The Priestess would train and mentor her, just as she had mentored Danka eight years before, and then she’d be ready to travel to Sebernekt Ris and hopefully be more successful as a student than Danka had been. Isauria was crying, but finally she agreed to stay behind and accept the life offered to her by the Priestess. She changed her merchant’s outfit for a Church apprentice robe and knelt before her new mentor, accepting that her Path in Life had changed and that she was now officially under the jurisdiction of the local Old Believers’ parish.

Besides transcribing Danka’s notes and turning them into reports, Isauria was left with another task. Danka wrote two letters to the sisters-in-law she never met: informing them about her marriage to Ilmatarkt, the final months of his life, and the circumstances under which his soul separated from his body. Danka couldn’t go into Starivktaki Moskt to deliver them in person, but Isauria, escorted by the Priestess, would deliver them the following week.

As soon as she was convinced Isauria would not change her mind and try to follow her, Danka lost no time getting out of Gordnackt Suyastenckt. She donated the mule to the Church and went out on foot as a penitent, wearing nothing but the same collar and same boots she had set out wearing when her journey began in 1750. She could have bought new boots, but instead chose to wear the ones her father had given her nearly a decade before. They had been repaired so many times that almost none of the leather was original They looked hideous with all the patches, and yet Danka had kept them, not understanding herself why.

For the moment she wanted to rid herself of all the trappings from the previous eight years. She would carry no weapons, no clothing, and no money. She would start over, place her faith in the Creator, rely on the charity of the parishes along her way, and return to the capitol as a penitent. She still had her recipes, medicines, and supply of blue powder, but anything that couldn’t fit in her bucket would not accompany her on the trip.

She walked naked along country roads in the heat of July, trying to avoid passing through towns where people would be likely to recognize her from her service with the Followers of the Ancients. Whenever possible she slept in isolated chapels or the houses of clergy members. She stayed a single night and moved on as soon as she had breakfast the following day. Along the way she stopped to take snacks from farms, but was careful to adhere to the protocol of taking only one piece of food from any place she stopped. Still, she traveled well-fed, eating breakfast and dinner with whoever hosted her for the night and munching on fruit and raw vegetables throughout the day as she walked.

In spite of choosing a route to minimize the chances of running into someone who’d remember her from her days with the Followers of the Ancients, she did pass through plenty of villages she had visited with Ermin, Kaloyankt, or other companions from the Cult. She even saw people she had vaccinated but, because she was not wearing her Followers’ dress, no one recognized her. To the locals she was just a wandering penitent, worth looking at because she was attractive, but otherwise not noteworthy.

As Danka traveled westward, she was able to clear her mind of a lot of the memories that had burdened her up to that point. During the trip she used her new identity Vesna Roguskt and tried to remember not to refer to herself as Danka. She had no past and was nothing more than a uncovered traveler moving with the protection of the Church. She was not Follower Danka, nor Jadranka the student, nor Silvitya the concubine, nor Defender Danka the wife of Doctor Ilmatarkt. She had no responsibilities apart from trying to find out what happened to her former squad leader Oana. Perhaps Oana didn’t even survive the evacuation from Aksheriri Ris and if that were true, then she didn’t have any other concerns or responsibilities. But, if she didn’t have any responsibilities, then her life really had no purpose. She pushed that thought aside. Better to enjoy the moment while it lasted, because she was sure that responsibility and duty would crowd into her life soon enough.

After spending July walking at a leisurely pace across the entire western valley, Danka finally arrived in the capitol on August 2. The area outside the walls had changed dramatically over the past four years. Instead of military encampments and rows of squalid refugee tents, the zone immediately outside the walls was covered with new, nicely-built houses and shops, which had been built from the huge piles of lumber, stone, and bricks that were stockpiled in anticipation of expanding the city wall. The buildings were much roomier than the cramped wooden structures of the old capital because there was plenty of space for the builders to spread out. Many of the newer structures had gardens or courtyards, and all of them had tile roofs because thatch was prohibited as a fire hazard. Danka realized that the capitol’s inhabitants must have learned their lesson about fire, because the new houses were built from much less wood and flammable materials than the older structures that burned in 1755. Most of the old wall and its watchtowers were still standing, but they were barely visible behind all those new buildings.

Danka made her way towards an opening in the wall. An entire section between two watchtowers on the eastern side was missing, leaving a gap that was four blocks wide. She freely walked through and was greeted by a truly bizarre sight. The entire city was a huge construction zone, with the ground covered by the foundations of stately ministry buildings that were part of the Grand Duke’s plans for a renovated capitol. The narrow winding streets of the old city were gone, replaced by straight boulevards. From her location Danka could see all the way to the opposite side of the old walled area, because in most places only the new buildings’ foundations were in place. To the southwest she could see the hill containing the Grand Duke’s castle and the military buildings at its base. To the northwest the Great Temple and a couple of ancient stone buildings loomed in the distance. A few older stone buildings, most notably the Christian cathedral and another Roman Christian church, remained standing. Straight ahead there was an old fortress-like garrison standing next to the cathedral that had survived the fire, which would become the future headquarters of a national police force.