The Rite of Spring: The Princess

The Rite of Spring: Fragment 12

The Princess
in which Aonan sleeps within four stone walls, and eats breakfast

I confess I found my night in the hostel uncomfortable. Prior to that, I had never slept in a permanent building, and the awareness of the solid walls all around me was disconcerting. I felt, in fact, rather trapped. I was also disconcerted by the silence of the room. Among my people, it is customary for the unwed women to sleep together in one part of the tent. Furthermore, the nature of tents being what it is, the sounds made by sleepers in other parts, and indeed by others without the tent, are always readily audible. But the thick walls of the room to which I had been shown did not readily permit the ingress of sound.

The hostel, like most of the buildings which I had so far seen, was a block-like construction of mud brick. It was on two floors, and the room I occupied was upon the upper of these. The room, indeed, was hardly larger than gave space for a good sized palette, and floorspace to stand while dressing, although the ceiling was a good height. At the end of it there was a narrow embrasure in the wall, giving a view out over the stable yard and surrounding orchards.

It was in consequence of the unfamiliarity of the surroundings that I rose early the following morning. No-one was stirring, and, as I was unfamiliar with the customs of the place, I thought it better to remain within my room. I sat in the window, and looked out upon the surrounding countryside. As the the Eye of Rhiconic the All Seeing came slowly over the jagged edge of the Rim, I was able to perform the rite of calling up, quietly, by myself, and this pleased me.

The view also pleased me. It was quite unfamiliar. Around the hostel were orchards - plantings of fruit trees in regular array, neatly arranged and bright with flower, giving a sweet scent to the air. These orchards stretched for a considerable distance, so that although I knew that there were fields beyond, all I could see was the distant swell of the heath, and the still more distant snow-peaks of the Rim. Most pleasing of all was the song of the birds. There are many kinds of small birds which occupy the orchards of the Place which were quite unfamiliar to me. Out on the steppe, of course, we have birds that sing - who has not praised the sweet song of the lark? - but here there were very many, all singing most melodiously in the early light.

At last, after I had been sitting quietly in my embrasure for some time, I began to see the ostlers passing about the yard, tending the horses and camels, and to hear the sounds of movement within the building. A smell of new bread mingled with the perfume of the orchards. I arose from my seat in the embrasure, and paused to adjust my clothing. I found that I had, without thinking, donned my veil, and this I removed, knowing it would cause comment. I then made my way down to the public room, to find that food was prepared.

Few of the foods I saw then - or later - within the Place were wholly unfamiliar to me; but the presentation, and the normal diet of the people, was quite strange. Flesh there was, but it was expensive and not frequently eaten. Cheese and butter were widely available. The leaves and roots of many cultivated vegetables were also eaten. Preserved fruit, always a great luxury to us on the steppe, was freely available at little cost. Even the breads everyone ate at breakfast had fruit baked into them. The breads were, indeed, more plentiful, more varied, and far finer than I was used to. Few people drank water, and indeed the water was often ill-savoured. Wine was widely drunk; so, I believe, were fruit-juices in season, although I did not see this. Most frequently, people drank hot infusions of various herbs, chosen I believe to mask the foul taste of the water.

A selection of such foods as I have described was laid out; I purchased fruit bread, honey, and new cheese, and a little thin wine, and found myself a place to eat. There were a number of boards provided, each raised a span off the mats, and large enough that a dozen persons might sit around. I found this arrangement pleasant and convenient for eating in company. One or two parties were already settled around such boards, but I chose to sit at one which was then unoccupied. I began to eat my bread.

As I did so, I could hear the conversations going on at other boards. At one there sat a group of people who appeared to be merchants. They were talking about the journeys they were making. It appeared that one party, coming in from the steppe, had met with friends who were travelling out. The incomers were describing the state of affairs on the plains. One said

"You'll have heard Aonach is dead."

Of course my attention was attracted at once. His companion at once replied, laughing

"the keepers of the dead had better double the guards on their horse herd, then... Who got the old thief?"

I must say that it was with difficulty that I preserved my silence.

"Oh, some corrymicnic called Fhardvreck, I hear."

"And good luck to him!"

"Think on, though. there are consequences"

- the first speaker sounded more serious -

"I think the Rhiconaiach may be finished. There's no heir, just a lassie, and the corrymicnic are hunting her down now. We met a bunch of them as we were coming into the pass, and they were dragging a pair of ricnic lassies with them and looking pleased with themselves."

"I still say luck to him. I'm (expletive) tired of those ricnic thieves. I've lost too much good cargo - aye, and too many good friends too - over these past years."

"All I say to you is wait till you've got the corrymicnic going through your bags. If the Rhiconaiach are broken, the rest of the ricnic could fall apart, and then it would be the corries controlling the north road. We'd all be sorry then. Still, you might keep your eye out for a ricnic girl alone. There'd be a fair bit of change someone would give to know where she is..."

You will appreciate that this conversation had held my attention. I could not doubt that at least two of my devoted maidens had fallen into the hands of our deadliest enemies; I tried to avoid contemplation of their fate. I did not need the reminder of the seriousness of the military position, or the vital importance of my mission. But I listened, in case there were further news from the steppe I had not yet heard. So absorbed was I, indeed, that I did not notice that three others had settled at my board until one cleared her throat noisily at my elbow.

I turned to find a woman of middle years, running a little to flesh, dressed in loose and rumpled greyish clothes. She had a pleasant, sympathetic face, and untidy greying hair. Beyond her sat two men, dressed alike in rather severe black garments. It was the woman who spoke to me.

"It is a fine morning for travelling", she said. I concurred, politely, but not in such away as would engender converse, for I was eager to continue to listen to the merchants' talk. However, she was not discouraged.

"Where is it that you are travelling to?"

The question seemed polite, but I felt that the woman and her companions were too attentive for such a seemingly casual enquiry. I said, cautiously,

"I have some family business to transact". I did not wish to speak too much, for I was well aware that my unfamiliarity with the tongue and its usages might lead me into pitfalls. The woman pressed her question.

I did not know how to respond. I felt a trap closing around me. Partly it was the building, with its strong walls and narrow windows; I could not get out without going past the woman. Partly it was the merchants, and their talk. Although I say it myself, I have the looks of my people - indeed, I know that my maidens considered me striking - and I feared to draw their attention. Mostly it was an air of implacable attentiveness that the woman had about her. The silence drew out. I hoped that the woman would grow bored, and turn to her food or her companions. She did not. Instead, very gently, she repeated her question.

I said

"I have tidings to bear to a friend who dwells in the City", I said. The woman coughed, quietly into her hand. She said

"which city would that be?"

By then, I was sure this was a trap; there is, after all, only one city in the Place. I gathered myself to rise, saying "your pardon, I must leave now if I am to be ready for the boat."

She rose with me, putting a hand on my arm. She said

"Hold! I am an auditor of the Ear. I asked which city you were going to?"

I knew that something must be wrong. Somewhere, I had made a slip. I knew that Linnain had never called the city anything but just 'the City'; however, the man in the village from whom I had asked directions had said 'the City at Her Gates'; and indeed, when the bargemen had named it he had seemed to stress the 'Her'. Perhaps it was considered impolite to the God to say just 'the City'; I knew that Linnain's speech was often quite blasphemous, so that he was perhaps not a good teacher. Somewhat in a panic, I said

"I am going to the City at Her Gates. The matter is urgent, and I must go. Please let me pass."

The woman did not reply to me, but turned to her companions and said "it is as we were told. I will have to report on this, but do you hold her until we have clearer instructions."

One of the black-garbed men seized my arm. I could see the merchants looking at us, and did not struggle for fear of further drawing their attention. The black-garbed men lead me out of the building onto the quay, and thence by way of a lane to another building not unlike the hostel. Indeed, the room into which I was thrust was not unlike my room there, except that it faced south, and that the embrasure was closed by heavy bars, and that the door was locked.

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