Originally published in Marion Zimmer Bradley's Fantasy Magazine., Issue 27. Copyright 1995, Mary Mannon Reeves. Material may not be used without the author's written permission
AMBEYA
by
Mary Mannon Reeves
B
ut Commander, you don't understand. She's not just a witch, she's an ambeya..."
"Ambeya, damballah, hag, whatever. A witch is a witch, captain. same power, same greed. She'll do it."
Simyara smiled.
The door flap lifted and the foreigners entered. Simyara bent her head to the ground in obeiscence, the smile tucked away for safe keeping. She studied the commander from beneath her lashes, a huge pale blur in the shadows of her hut. Was this the man who had conquered her country? who was working his way south through the Dark Lands like a reaper working his way through the fields?
Simyara was not impressed. There was cruelty in the narrow eyes, wierd eyes the color of a summer sky. narrow lips twisted downward, narrow mind grasped outward, but only saw what it chose to see. Still, she was ambeya...
"What can this humble magician do for our land's Commander?" she spoke softly in her own tongue. No need to let them know she spoke theirs as well.
The captain translated, his pale eyes nervously tracking between the two. The commander grunted.
"Magician? I don't want a damned magician. Trickery! Illusion! I want a witch, and one with power!"
"The commander wants an elephant," the captain translated. "For his entrance into the city, The one we brought from the Spice Lands has died, but the commander has heard of elephants here as well."
Ah, an elephant. Again, she his her smile. So the Commander had recognized the awe in the faces of his victims as he rode the great gray beast in his victory parades. he had taken his place in the pantheon, and a god's power was a very strong and complete one. Without the elephant he was a manand just as susceptible to a spear as the next man, But a god is a god....
"I am not a Caller, young man. I am the ambeya."
"The captain took a deep breath and shifted to face his leader again. he repeated her words.
"Bah! I told you! A witch is a witch. Give her the gold."
Simyara smiled. it was a fool who conquered a country and refused to learn of its ways. She eyed the glittering pile and nodded slowly, the smile growing wider.
The captain almost whimpered his unease. "I still don't think this is wise, sir. How can you trust a witch from a land you've just overrun? What's to keep her from summoning a monster instead, or one of those horned beasts with the vile tempers, or even a dragon?"
The commander barked a laugh and shared a conspiratorial wink with Simyara. "No such things as dragons, boy, just elephants. Besides, I do know one thing about theses Ambeya witches. My drum boy told me."
He grabbed Simyara's arm before she could sense his intentions, and twisted it. he held it firmly, but gently, and traced the length of her initiation scar with the tip of his finger.
"By the name of Anasi, by the gods you have chosen," he chanted crudely in her language, "you are bound to the truth, your life to mine."
She gasped as web of the geas settled across her mind, cold and unforgiving.
"A witch is a witch," he chuckled, "and an ambeya is priestess to the spider god. But power is power and you have the power to get me an elephant, don't you old woman?"
She nodded slowly. "You will have your elephant, my lord," she spoke in his tongue, "by nightfall."
Tiny eyes glowed in the corner of the hut. As soon as the men had left, the spider spun down and crawled across their gold.
"You will help me?" Simyara asked.
"You will die. You are bound to him now."
She shrugged. "I am old, Death is death, and it's coming for me soon enough."
"Death is death," the spider echoed, "and a witch is a witch."
And a spider is a spider...."
They laughed together until the light began to fade.
The commander stood in the paddock, arms akimbo, heavy brows drawn into a scowl. the witch stood across from him, a smile distorting her wrinkled face. The body of the old elephant, just beyond the fence, was being removed gradually by scavengers, aniimal and human alike. it had been a gentle beast, unsuited for war, but what an impression it had made when the battles were over! He had the little savages terrified!
If his blithering aide could be believed, the elephants down here were even larger, with massive ears and tusks....
The commander closed his eyes, relishing the worship that would ride with him in the howdah. He opened them, and saw the ambeya's power begin to flow down her arms and pool on the palm-strewn ground. If black could glow, this did, a nimbus of not-light burning in the dusk, opening a hole in the paddock's center. the commander stepped forward eagerly.
And was met by a bull elephant. Twelve feet at the shoulder. Tusked. Angry. What this creature was to his old elephant was what a tiger was to a housecat.
"Did you ever wonder, commander," the ambeya said softly, " why my people were so impressed when you rode up on Tambor's little cousin from the Spice lands?"
The massive bull wrapped his trunk around the screaming man and lifted him high.
"Of course you didn't. After all, an elephant is an elephant."
She said no more as the body was thrown aside. Her soul was torn away with his and spent spiralling into the fading nimbus, The elephant trumpeted and walked throught the paddock fence, breaking the palisades like so much annoying brush, and left.
The darkness swelled around the town as the natives descended and removed what was left of the commanders forces.
In the paddock, spiders formed their own darkness as they flowed from the palms and the bamboo to shroud the witch's body in silk.
"A witch is a witch" said the one with the glowing eyes, "but this is our Ambeya."
