The Revenants

renewed over every doorway. The guard tower at the eastern edge of the valley, from which the trail to the Wizard’s Tower could be seen, was strengthened and a new privy dug nearby.
There were long hours of council. Was it true, as had been said, that die Keepers would also examine the animals? A man said that in the time of his grandfather it had been done. A dog in the village was thought to be part wolf. The Speaker ordered it killed. What of the crops and the gardens? The widow Klig had a flower in her garden which was larger than others were able to grow it. The Speaker ordered it uprooted and burned.
The drum was sounded for gathering, and all assembled were told to search their houses. There must be no garment in which the wool of sheep was mixed with the hair of goats. He quoted from the Great Article, ‘That which is to be eaten may be mixed, for it would mix in the body. That which is Separated by nature may be mixed, for nature will keep it Separated. That which nature does not Separate, man must Separate or he is no better than a weed which sheds its pollen or an animal which regards not its purity.’ Goats and sheep were said to be able to cross, though no one had ever seen it happen.
‘It means,’ said the Speaker, ‘that you can have wool and linen mixed, or you can have a stew, because your body will make everything in the stew into body or dung, anyhow. Animals and vegetables can’t cross, so you can mix them. You’ve got to get rid of any mixtures of things that can cross! Remember what the Keepers did to the man with the mule!’ This was an old and bawdy story, and there was general laughter. The Speaker was satisfied. The Keepers would find the village pure – except for Jaera.
She could, of course, simply be killed and burned. The old men said, however, that it would be better to have something for the Keepers to root out, something properly abhorred and outcast. This would be taken as additional proof of purity and would further satisfy the Keepers. If they were satisfied, they would even take some of the younger men and women away with them to study the great way of Separation and become acolytes, Keepers, or even members of the fabled Lords Protector. This would be a great honour for the village.
The month of flowers was almost past, and the Speaker turned his attention to Jaera once again. She was being watched. The nights were warm once more, but they could not watch during the time of the moon. That way would lie madness. He sent once more for the keen-eyed old woman.
‘Now that the coming of the Keepers is nigh, she must be watched even during moontime. I cannot ask it of any who may still bear or father children, for horror would come of it. You, old one, have had soft years in my care. Now comes the time of repayment.’
The old woman cried, but the Speaker would not bend. Her fear of the moonlight and its madness and death was great, but her fear of being put out of his house was greater. She let herself be taken to a place in the forest from which Jaera’s hut could be seen, and she made herself stay there as the moon rose, bathing the world in madness. She saw nothing. Her fear was so great that she could have seen nothing, but the nights of moontime passed and she was unchanged. She began to preen herself a little, until the Speaker told her that she was so old the moon could find no juices in her to set steaming. So passed the month of flowers and the month of sowing, and midsummer month was come once again.
It was in the first moonlight of midsummer month that Jaera came out of her hut and went to the river to bathe, and it was in that uncertain light that the old woman followed her. Even in that dim light what the old woman saw was unmistakable. She fled through the trees like a thing moon-maddened indeed to throw herself down on the Speaker’s doorstep to wait moonset.
‘She is big, big with child, Speaker. She is within days of her time. What will you do?’
The Speaker’s face was ashen, and he placed his hand across her mouth. The Keepers might arrive at any time. They could not find the outcast pregnant or with a babe as this would be clear evidence that someone in the village had – no, it was unthinkable. Someone else? Who? There had been no strangers. Perhaps during the moontime? That as it, the moontime. If she bathed during moon-time, might she not also have climbed the Eastern Moun-tain? But then, why return? Would the Keepers believe it? They would not believe that she would go out in moon-time. They would not believe the old woman, for her own presence there would damn her as madwoman and liar. They would not believe him. No, they would believe that it was someone in the village.…
The old woman was counting on her fingers. ‘That time, Speaker. That time of the strange music. It was then –’
The Speaker shook his head impatiently. The Keepers would not believe that, either, though the whole village had heard it. He did not want that time talked of. No. Jaera must be taken and burned before she gave birth to some monster. Now, and silently, before the village wakened. He went to wake his sons. There would be fire before sunrise. The hut would be gone.
But Jaera was not in the hut. She had heard the startled gasp of the old woman, seen the bent figure stumble through the trees, followed to see it crumple on the Speaker’s doorstep. Even as she followed, she felt the first pains.