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40

Who shall judge the priests? They are not monitored by our God of the Sky for He passes overhead in silence. The priests rule by the grace of the underclans.

The nas-Veda Who Sits on Bees, Judge of Judges

So THE CRONE MOTHER had detected the rebellion Humility felt. The hag’s speech had been a lash of fury. Humility’s thoughts raged. Why must I care why those who die are condemned? I’m young! I don’t have to stay in a hive and think!

Being young had its disadvantages. Youth was subject to the absolute will of the crones. And the crone mother saw fit to drill her on the Four Justices and the Lattice of Evidence and all the rest of it barring even time out for love. She was being readied for something. They always gave you the vessel before they filled it. The vessel was bisqued and then baked to stoneware hardness by the fire of their breathing. Methane-snorting witches!

Humility knew she would be nothing without the Endless Training. There would be no palaces, no mastery of grace, no adoring men, no power, and no pleasure of the hunt and kill. The Training was the price. One even learned to love its rigor. But why the sudden hurry? It was keeping her away from Hoemei!

The hive was gray; the floor of her cell was cold; her woven mat pricked her flesh with broken fibers: all minor tortures compared with the pain she was really suffering. She lay awake imagining the se-Tufi With Saucy Nipples giggling while riding Hoemei’s rod during her stand-in at being the Honey persona. Why do I care? Humility only knew that she desperately wanted to be in the Palace with Hoemei after being away from him only a week.

Would Saucy know to bring a nightslip petal for him to smell? Why am I jealous of my own sister? In all her intricately memorized knowledge of the se-Tufi, there was no taint of jealousy. Did a se-Tufi, who felt jealous, fear her shame so much that she kept the emotion a secret from all her sisters?

Once Humility had, on orders, smothered a Lineless Liethe for jealousy. The girl had slapped her lover’s wife. It had been somber to feast upon such loveliness. Weeks later there was nothing left of the beautiful body but the warm buskins worn by the crone mother. Jealousy was a foul emotion, lethal to the cause of the Liethe. The penalty was always death.

Dawn of the high day brought an early rising and a summons by the se-Tufi hag. They shared a bun and honey.

“Don’t you ever relax?” asked Humility, trying to be offhand.

“When I travel.” A faraway look came into ancient eyes. “But I’m too old for the road. I shall die here in Kaiel-hontokae for my Feast. Keep a fingerbone for yourself. I have a special place for me in your belly. I envy you; you still have much journeying in front of you.”

Humility was quick to perceive that the reference to the road was not idle gossip. Her heart caught. “Are you telling me that I’ll be travelling for you?”

The hag grinned. “I have been training you to be my ambassador to Soebo at the Crone’s Court. In Soebo you will see how marvelously the Lattice of Evidence sifts for crime. You will know that I have taught you well.”

“But I don’t want to go to Soebo!” Humility cried.

“Ah! You’ve changed.” The old woman first chuckled, then sighed. “You must go. Serious scandal is afoot. The Liethe watch all Gatherings. We participate in our own way. You will know what to do when you get there. Your youth is over. You are ready to decide for yourself who must die. Do not be impulsive. Remember always that you are acting for me and that I shall judge you. You leave tonight.”

“Shall I not see Hoemei again?”

“No.”

Only the White Mind seared away her tears. She bowed to duty. She bowed her head to the floor. She swore allegiance to mother and hive and clan.

And cheated. Saucy Nipples was her friend and sister. They arranged a brief switching tryst so that she might say goodbye to Hoemei who would never even know that she had left. She was crazy with excitement. She bathed twice and broke flower petals upon her skin. She read the love poems of the Sexing Chant to prepare her mind.

Hoemei was tired but she did not mind. She hugged him and enjoyed the caress, not clinging too long, for to him Honey had only been away for sun-heights. He was tired so she fed him; he was tired so she undressed him and laid him upon his back while she massaged the plowings of his body; let him lie comfortably while she mounted him to feed him the pleasure of her hips. “You’re the love of my life,” she said, squeezing him with her lower self.

He only laughed because Liethe always spoke thusly to priests.

“Hoemei!” came a whisper at his door, a woman’s voice, hurried, frightened, excited.

He held his Honey to keep her from moving. “Yes? Who is it?”

“Me of course! Kathein! You’re all alone — with Joesai and Noe up north, and Gaet and Teenae on the coast. I was feeling sorry for you all day, so I’ve come to see you.”

“God,” said Hoemei, rattled.

For the Queen of Life-before-Death, the moment was pain. She had never before hated a woman, and what could be more painful than that? Slowly she lowered herself from her riding position until her breasts mingled with Hoemei’s hairy chest. She gave him one last kiss, a quick one while she stuffed the feel of his body into her memory. “She’s an old love of yours, isn’t she? Let her come. While I hide, she will be fascinated by you, and while you hold her with her back toward me, I will leave.” Humility dismounted, collected her things rapidly, and took herself behind the tapestry.

“Kathein. I’m not dressed,” he delayed.

“That’s the way I want you!”

“I’ll be right there.”

He got up and patted the tapestry, and of all the things he could have done, that pleased his Liethe the most.

“What’s happening?” said Hoemei as Kathein slipped through the door.

“Silly, you’ve dressed yourself!” she admonished him.

“I’m in a state of shock. What are you doing here? Aesoe will have us for rugs!”

Behind the oz’Numae hangings, a disheveled Humility snorted in her mind. He hasn’t learned how to handle Aesoe yet! When will he ever learn!

“I’m tired of making love to Aesoe,” she said sulkily. “He likes to sleep with his head on my breasts — and he snores!”

A sudden knowing smile erupted in hiding. Humility wondered why she was smiling while she was in such pain, and why she tolerated the agony when she could as easily go into White Mind and order any response she desired from her body. It was love. They told her it might happen someday. They told her it happened at least once to every Liethe and that if she were lucky she would be old before it did.

She felt a petulant exasperation. They want me to know why I kill! And I get stuck with being in love! She did not like growing up.

“How’s the new clan going?” Hoemei asked.

“You’re so the intellectual! How’s my clan going,” Kathein mocked. “You know how it is going! I’m surrounded by children who have to learn everything from me. I’m astonished by their speed! But I want people who have lived. I miss you all. I hate Aesoe for sending Joesai out to his death! God Above, what an astronomer he’d make!” She was crying and Hoemei took her in his arms.

Humility stuck her head out and motioned for him to pull Kathein to the cushions. He did so, holding her tightly, locking her into an embrace that generated passion from Kathein. Slowly, Humility tiptoed away, clothes in her arms. She wagged her tongue insolently, pausing just long enough to frighten him, waiting at leg’s length from Kathein’s shoeless toes, a nostalgic look on her face. If she were Hoemei’s wife, she could join him on the pillows now.

Morality! she thought sullenly and was gone, silently crying, wetting her cheeks, anguished that her last meeting with Hoemei had crumbled into such a disaster. It was the first time in her life that she remembered tears she had not faked.