The Sight of Blood: Rhen's Story

-6- Memory of Shame

“I want to tell you about your father.”

Her mother was crying and did not bother to hide it. They had stayed up all night, Rhen wrapped in her mother’s arms as she sang and spoke to her. She had spoken about the forest, about the birds that flew overhead, and about all the flowers that grew in the gardens. She had spoken about the other nessari and how much she loved and admired them, remarking at how much stronger they were than she. She had spoken about everything in Rhen’s life that was good and warm and calm, but never once in Rhen’s life had her mother spoken about her father.

“He was a soldier. Soldiers come here sometimes, as a pilgrimage. The goddess of the Forest watches over many people, you see, and there are many cities and villages that fall under her leaves.”

Rhen was silent. No one had ever told her about anything that happened outside the temple.

Her mother stroked her hair as she spoke. Her voice was calm, but tears continued to stream down her cheeks. “No one has explained the rules about pilgrims to you, have they Sweetling? We were not permitted to speak to the soldiers, nor they to us. Very few of us are allowed to be seen by outsiders, so most were confined to their rooms. I served the wine on the first night of their arrival and sang the evening hymns. The man who would be your father smiled at me, so kindly. It had been a long time, too long, since anyone had looked at me in such a way.”

She was smiling now, her eyes full of light and warmth. “We never spoke. I never knew his language, nor he mine. We understood each other, though, he and I. I think we both shared a life of loneliness and rules set upon us by others that we could not escape. We both understood and cared for one another, and we loved each other in our own way, though we spent but a few hours together. You’re too young to understand, but out of that love and understanding, you were born.”

Rhen took a loose thread from her mother’s dress and twisted it between her fingers. “Where is he now?”

Her mother pulled her in closer and kissed her forehead. “I wish I knew, Sweetling. Perhaps one day you will find him.”

* * *

The walls and pillars were white. The ceremony room of the inner temple had been built specially so that light seeped in at any time of day and was enhanced by the whiteness of the walls to illuminate the room, for no fires were allowed here. There were no carvings, no decorations. The only adornment was the green marble that tiled the floor, but today the room was so full that only the green steps that led to a small rise at the far end of the room could be seen. A simple stone block waited on the rise, and beside it was the envoy from Terdan, who stood, poised as ever, with his hands clasped at the small of his back. He wore the ceremonial robes of the temple priests, and had arranged them so that every crease and fold was deliberately placed. He wore no jewels or other items to signify his status, but his hair was pulled away from his face so that the slender upward curve of his ears could be clearly distinguished.

Everyone who lived at the Forest Temple was in that room today. Rhen was surprised to see just how large of a group they were – as she grew older she often thought that the temple was in fact very small when she looked over the treetops of the surrounding forest. The nessari all stood in silence, facing the rise. Some were crying with as much silence as they could manage. The temple guards lined the outer walls and in front of them stood the rows of Deliri priests, all of them robed and hooded so that their faces could not be seen.

Rhen stood among her aunts, feeling lost and alone. Her mother had been gone from their single-room hut that morning without a word, and no one would speak to her except to tell her to go into the temple when it was time. She remained silent like everyone around her, biting her lip against the surge of questions that had filled her mind since yesterday.