The Totem-Maker (part twenty-seven)

The Totem-Maker

Chapter Three

I Am the Cause

(part twenty-seven)

“I have thought,” I said, “that I cannot wash my hands of Lom. He befriended me. Could our gods have devised this, that he do a good and kind thing…a very great thing, my lord, for I am very much without friends… Then, that jealousy poison the heart of Mumas, that Lom, and not I, pay the price? Does his death answer some implacable story, plotted to the end of time, by the all-knowing, mighty Ami?”

He was silent, and so I said, to finish, “I don’t think it. I believe Ami would have us rise, be angry perhaps, not bear responsibility…but seize it.”

“Now you touch me nearly,” he murmured. “Mumas, you see…why will you not have guessed?” He studied the lantern’s flame, and began in a different way. “I could have filled that place, sat idle in my house, bargained with the bargainers. Cime and I, and our knights, would ride roughshod over one or two new-sprouted fields. The scofflaws’ money would come unstuck. A bit of fun. But Cime believed he would follow tradition. Why not if in old days a Mumas would receive the honor, and if Mumas has two causes of complaint—that he is denied his right, and that the Houses steal from the Cerbani… Why not give Mumas a thing to prove, instead of a thing to grudge? He might do well, and the Emperor be pleased. He might do poorly. Then he must shut his mouth and be gone.”

“Well,” I said, “is that not wisdom?”

“What do you see?” He asked me this, after getting to his feet.

When for minutes he had not furthered his point, I tried, “What is it like for me to see…? How do I know there is anything divine in…”

“A dream? Is that how it is? A trance that comes over you?”

“No… No. Mine is a paltry gift, likely no gift at all. A sense no better, I suppose, than to say…”

I looked at Sente’s silhouette, framed by the window. I had always possessed one shirt, one tunic, one warmer robe, one pair of shoes. I did not make the sort of choice that had come to my mind. But I saw his silver cuff, cabochoned with the amber stone that in his house I’d admired. “I will wear this adornment today. This I feel certain of. I don’t dream or swoon, no.”

Also I said, telling myself, I lose nothing by it: “I know the gossip, my lord. But my certainty is that you will thrive. Caleyna Treiva…”

“We have given each other up.”

He kicked at the stone wall, willing himself this pain, stifling a broken noise.

“That’s all.” He turned, stooping for the lantern. But sat again. “No… I’m a fool. I came to confess to you. Please don’t pity and forgive me. But hear me. You recall that you and Lom were on the steps, and that Mumas came into the hall. Of course my servant had not told him they were there. Cime… The parents of Darsale, my new father and mother. Mumas had been to some ministers of the Prince…he was not given audience… To say my plan was to cheat and mock him.”

“I can’t even deny it…it was.” On his feet suddenly, he yanked the shutter, alarming me as the flame leapt. “Here! This adornment!” He flung the cuff to the yard below. “Let it be found by anyone. May Ami bless. No, you see, as easily as that, the Prince tossed my cares aside.” A sad, ironic smile. “I would put Caleyna in danger, but it was my choice, to obey or disobey. I would be Darsale’s husband, and Darsale would inherit my estates.”

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I Am the Cause

The Totem-Maker (part twenty-eight)

(2018, Stephanie Foster)