The Dollmage

Chapter 13

Go now. My tale is ended.

Or rather, Annakey’s tale. Now you know how I could tell all the stories from her eyes. She is the Dollmage. She has been for some time. It is a wonder I have lived until now. Some few of you will miss me.

Do not weep so much. When I was young, I was a lace veil, pretty, but easy to see through. As I became a woman of mature years, I was a brown field, not beautiful but fruitful and fine. Now I am an old plough, toothless and tending to creak in the joints, but having done my share of the work. Leave me in the meadow and let the flowers grow up around me and I will be beautiful again. Besides, my husband is here to make me laugh and keep me company, and we will be with Renoa, whose spirit runs wild in the forest.

Do not be afraid of your gift, Annakey. Those who love you will only love you more for it, and you will free others to glory in their own goodness and beauty. You have already taught them that the most important promise is the one made to oneself. You have begun to teach them the ways to be happy.

You, Bontha Hogweigher, you will do well to follow her example as your new Dollmage. You smile at me to scorn me. What is there to glory about me? you say I walk like a goose and I sing like a horse. Worst of all, you say, I am bossy to all those who will let me boss them. What is good and loving and powerful in me?

I will tell you, Bontha, and we will see if any will deny. You, Bontha, make the best bread in the valley. You make the best buns and pies, too. Many a single man there is in the valley who has sat at night thinking it might be worth letting you boss him, if only he might eat your bread and pastry every day. But when the other women praise your bread, you shush them and mock their praise and refuse to accept your glory. Why? Because you are afraid.

Only pride is to be feared, only enmity with God and man.

You do not understand my stories? What does it matter? Annakey is the Dollmage now. Leave me. Follow Fedr Rainsayer to your new valley. It is beautiful, for I have seen it through the vision of Annakey’s hands.

Go, Annakey, and make your new valley a place where a promise is not something you break your heart upon, but a word that binds hearts. Make your valley a place where a promise is not an end, but a beginning. Make your valley a place where words are not an enemy to truth and reason, and where the promise is a mother that nurtures, a lover that calls, not a weapon that bruises.

Keep your memory dolls and remember me always as one who loved you, my people. Honor your new Dollmage. Remember I told you the truth so that the words and the real might be one again, giving you power. Remember me, and love me anyway.