For an eightday, now, since the discussion had finally turned to the problem of building a new army, her preconsorts had been agitated over the issue of the army’s commander. A wrong decision here, they insisted, would be disastrous.
Guo must see to it that the right decision is made!
Silly males. The right decision will be made. As always. And I won’t have to do anything.
The Goddess will not fail us.
Her preconsorts, she knew, were much taken by Ushulubang and the teachings of the Way. Most males were, especially eumales. Had not Goloku taught that all gukuy are equal within the Coil? Did not Ushulubang flail his Pilgrims with that precept, every day? In the most outrageous manner possible? Imagine! Allowing that pervert Dhowifa to ride about in her mantle, and proclaiming him the best of the new apashoc.
Guo did not object, actually. She rather liked Dhowifa. The pervert had begun to spend much time with Guo’s preconsorts. He missed, Guo knew, the company of his own long-lost malebond. After an initial hesitation, her preconsorts had allowed Dhowifa to become a bondfriend. True, Dhowifa was an unnatural gukuy. But—after the Swamp, and everything else, it no longer seemed of much importance. And he was close to Ushulubang, and wise in the Way himself.
Guo did not object to the Way, either. She knew that the new religion was sweeping through the ranks of the Kiktu, pushing aside the old tribal beliefs. But she didn’t care. She was inclined to the opinion that beings should believe in whatever they wished. And, even if that had not been her own inclination, she would not have objected. For the Goddess herself had decreed that all must respect the beliefs of others, and their right to advocate that belief.
Guo herself, however, was not moved by the Way. She found its logical intricacies boring. Her husbands-to-be could chatter all they wanted about the subtleties of the Question; she would have none of it. Even if Guo had lost her respect for the clan leaders, she had lost none of her respect for the old beliefs of the Kiktu.
The truth was simple and straightforward. The Goddess Uk had created the world, and rained life upon the Meat. She had given all to the gukuy, and told them to enjoy the bounties of the world. But the gukuy had fallen into sin, and displeased Uk. So the Goddess had returned to the world, to set the gukuy back on the road of righteousness.
It was well known, of course, that no gukuy could gaze upon the sight of the Goddess and live. So the Goddess, in her mercy, had assumed a different form. She had returned in the guise of a demon. A Mother of Demons. With her children, and their glistening spears, to enforce her will.
Let foolish males and others believe in the tales of the demons. The demons were full of tall tales—especially the old fat one, the Mother’s mate. Tales of great coils in the sky, beyond the Mother-of-Pearl. Tales of a double coil within every living thing, which created it and shaped it as it grew. Tales and tales and tales.
All nonsense. Guo knew the truth. The Mother of Demons had come to the world to explain the secrets to the people. The greatest secrets of all—the secrets of the future. She said it was not so, of course. The Mother of Demons said she had no magic power over the future. Only the knowledge of the past, of a different world, which enabled her to see the forks in the road ahead. But Guo knew she was lying. The Goddess would blind the gukuy if she told them the secrets all at once, as they really were. So, in her mercy, the Goddess lied, and told only some of the secrets. And only part of those secrets.
It was enough. Once, Guo had meant to force the truth from the Mother of Demons. Remembering that time, she almost flushed red. She would have been destroyed. But the Goddess Uk had loved Guo, and spared her.
“Stop daydreaming!” hissed Woddulakotat.
Guo brought her mind back to the present. The Pilgrim Ghodha was speaking.