This is from JTPYO - King of the Waste [3] the trap - it's at the end; "the trap" is divided into chapters because it's so long. This excerpt starts out with "the dragon's egg" and ends in the midst of "Cuetio." "The trap" - chapter 3 of "JPTYO - King of the Waste" ends with "the children's gifts" which is previously published, noting the tale of Arem, Uteyra, and their daughter Memitha.
At the end of "the dragon's egg" the cohort - minus Naxosos, Tolalo, and Nirith - are celebrating overcoming a very large mob of desert raiders who intended to capture Naxosos and ransom him. A lot of this is verbiage from the original text published in 2017.
"Cuetio" - told from the point of view of a youth who has tensely waited for an outcome with the rest of the Children of God, hiding in a wasteland refuge. Cuetio is designated to get with the other kids of the tribe to think of a reward fit for someone who risked his life - and paid a price - to preserve their lives.
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Anyway, yeah: Back to teh children. Tell the other parents before it's too late. Form a support group; you could call it "nax-alt" or something like that, i.e., a wholesome alternative for kids (and retarded adults) who have become a nuisance because they're constantly trying to act out scenes from my stories.
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22 October 2017 / 11 August 2021 / 28 April 2022 / 22 December 2022 / 19 June 2023 / 15 July 2023 / 23 May 2024 / 26 August 2025
JTPYO – King of the Waste [3] / the trap (excerpt: the Dragon's Egg – Cuetio – the Children's Gifts)
Copyright © 2022, 2023, 2024, 2025, 2026 by Kristi A. Wilson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Which is me.
* * *
"They're praying," Joliel said with a snort.
The Goddess-on-Earth had just caused three small whirlwinds, in a graceful little dance, to cover the traces, tracks, and burn marks of their corpse-concealment and all now were at leisure, drinking more wine; Stanilomaxinon and Terenorint played with and conversed over the dead Jaraturis' weapons off to one side. The light was waning; soon it would be dark.
"What's he praying for?" Korsis said. (He, too, was fiddling with a weapon, a long dagger taken from one of the corpses.) "I hope not for those assholes to re-assemble."
"He's not strong enough!" the sorcerer tittered. He was dressed again; his black habit swirled about him in the late afternoon breezes. Then, in the tone of an afterthought: "For that. As yet."
Naemas comically made the noise of a man blubbering, and everyone chuckled except for Naimejo, who demanded, addressing Korsis and Joliel, "Do the two of you ever cease from blasphemy?" (To this Joliel replied in a mutter, "Blasphemy? What is that?")
Naimejo leaned, sipping wine from his leather cup, against the camel as it rested upon the ground. (For its part, the beast seemed oblivious of anyone's presence: Of course, the animal was long used to being a human's pillow, stanchion, or shield, as well as steed and burden-bearer. It had hidden in the rocks and shade since their return from the South Water, and now lay contentedly chewing, letting them use it for a cushion, and as per its custom seeming to listen to what each person said but at the same time seeming not to care.)
Thais lounged beside Naimejo, also leaning upon the camel, also having some wine.
Thais rose now and went to put her hand on Naemas's arm. "What a fine soldier you are," she said. "What would you have from us at this time, Naemas? You have but to ask."
The two warriors stopped their sword-twirling and turned to stare. A lengthy silence ensued, during which updrafts on the cliffs freshened in the growing dark, creating odd moaning, hooting sounds.
"I want for us all to live long enough to see the kingdom," Naemas answered finally. "Not ascension to the corrupt seat, nor a toady to the Celans, uh…sorry, Korsis."
"Think nothing of it," was Korsis's reply.
"The new kingdom," Naemas finished. He was waving his arms about and some of his wine slopped onto the sand. In wordless request he held his flagon out to Naimejo; Naimejo replied "You don't get a refill until everyone else does, fool!"
Answering Naemas, Thais said, "To the extent we are able, Naemas. But you see that sometimes Naxosos seems to lack heart, and sometimes he seems careless of his life. He is fey and angry, and wild."
"Naxo?!" Korsis barked. "Wild…?!" and laughed.
Ignoring this, Thais went on: "For us to control him is undesirable and likely impossible. Even to try is a mistake."
Naemas started to speak, but then: "He'll get us all killed," Joliel stated flatly as the drafts spiraled around him, rippling his robe. "Unless he's brought under control."
"Don't worry, bro," Korsis muttered, speaking to Joliel. "I'll never tell him how scared of him you are," and Naemas said, "When Joliel says 'control' he always means his control," and to this Korsis added in a sage tone, "Naturally!"
"I'm scared to fall asleep or pass out around him, just like everybody else," Joliel replied, throwing the dregs of his wine on the ground.
"If Naxo didn't want to live, do you think he would be here now? Would we?" Naemas challenged.
"Even so," Korsis said. He also threw down his dregs and said, "We ought to pray now, too."
"Not for the health of the Jaraturi, please God," Thais said, her tone more hesitant than usual." Then, after a brief hesitation, she mused: "I am wondering if we will be able even to approach the foothills now – but neither can we retreat back into the waste!"
"You, at least," the sorcerer Joliel said quietly, "have no cause for worry."
"That we all live long enough to see the new kingdom," Korsis said. "That should be the prayer."
"Indeed, a new prayer," the Goddess-on-Earth said. "Naimejo, will you lead?"
"Yes," the priest replied, standing, brushing off his robe – his headdress he'd finally decided to leave off until the next time he performed an office, and his black locks and beard tossed and writhed about his head in the increasing wind. The camel also rose, shaking its rough hide.
The cliffs had meanwhile become noisy with sounds first like women wailing, then wolves.
Thais called out to her fighters, "You two, will you stop playing with the weapons, it is getting dark and they are probably poisoned, or did you not think?"
Weapons were dropped. "We are sorry, Goddess," Terenorint said.
"You are part of the new kingdom, come pray with us now whether you can say the words or not."
The fighters drew near and stood somewhat sheepishly, light-colored hair shining weirdly in the gloom, heads hanging like boys after a scolding.
"Can you think of some words for our prayers, Terenorint? Stani?" the Goddess-on-Earth teased them.
After a silence, the warrior Stanilomaxinon said in the tone of a quotation: "The King…the King goes out to fight and his enemies fall before him as though dead, and their weapons drop to the ground."
Now the silence was one of shock.
Finally Korsis spoke: "Ah…ah, Thais…?"
"Yes, Korsis?"
"Is this…ah, do you know what he's saying?"
"Yes," Thais answered, "I do. Stanilomaxinon is speaking one of our ancient verses – he knows Tramrini well enough now to translate it."
Naemas said, "An ancient verse? What's it about?"
Stanilomaxinon said: "It is called 'the Prophecy Regarding The King'," and Thais laughed merrily and said, "Yes: The Prophecy of the King. That is just one of the verses – how many verses are there in the Prophecy, Terenorint?" and the warrior answered readily: "There are one thousand, five hundred, and sixty-two verses, Goddess."
"Who are they talking about?" Korsis asked.
"It's a prophecy," Thais said. "Two thousand years ago they didn't know what his actual name was going to be; we have many names for him, of course – you know some of them, Korsis." She then made a slight tsk-ing sound as though at a pointless inquiry.
The sound of the air movement through the cliffs and crevasses rose to an eerie, mournful shriek, though on the floor of the pass it was relatively still. The temperature continued to drop.
"I have to think for a minute to come up with some words," Naimejo said in a grumpy tone.
"Take your time," the Goddess-on-Earth replied.
***
(Chapter Four – "the trap" is so long I broke it into chapters – this chapter is called "Cuetio")
(26 December 2025)
I awoke and it was perhaps two hours past midnight; the small lantern my sister kept only made this place seem more black and frightening, and as usual I dared not so much as move until I had got my bearings and remembered who and where I was.
We had all, earlier in the day when there was enough light to see by, observed the Goddess-on-Earth and her Second emerge from the priests' tent and go riding off on the camel. They had disappeared into the sand-fall; I guess there is a way – a way for a normal man or beast – out of Onyx Hold there at the sand-fall, although it is terrible.
That had been at about the fourth hour past noon.
It was harder to know what was going on after that, but after standing close to the King for part of the morning while we waited to enter this place, I recognized him entering and then leaving the priests' tent – especially with his mother there. She is easy to mark even when she is not throwing a fit.
And he had ridden away on a donkey, the King, outfitted like he was going to war and looking like he would very much rather walk than ride. Naemas Long-Legs and Korsis Zarodi had put weapons and supplies onto another donkey and led that one away, to go with our Naxosos King. Others, two priests on donkeys, likely the two almost always seen talking to him, had also gone. Each had ascended into the sand-fall at the Hold's southernmost aspect and disappeared.
I don't know how anyone else felt about it, but I was apprehensive. Aghib, Fiyani, and I prayed. And, when it came time for evening prayers, everyone was directed to pray for the King, the Goddess-on-Earth, and the warriors but we were not told anything beyond that.
The archmage (Father and some others call him Redoubt when they refer to him at all) went with them also, and the whole thing was about the Six being out overnight. We noticed it as odd when the magus didn't leave with the warriors when they left, but since the Viragan has joined our tribe, he, the archmage, has kept a constant watch over our Naxosos King – so that was likely why.
(I realized I had, in the back of my mind, noticed the absence of the sorcerer and been wondering where he had gone: Almost daily, if that one is not accompanying the Goddess on some exploit, he will amble about the camp with a cross-eyed look to his unnaturally-white face as though lost in thought, but everyone knows he is watching us, counting us, measuring us – especially the girls and women, but also I have observed him to stare at me, and when finally I give that one a warning look, he will smirk and pull at his beard, which is that of a stripling, and his mien is otherwise disgusting, pallid as a fish's belly – and amble on. Us kids are continually reminded not to bother the archmage – which seems unnecessary to me. His appearance matches his wicked and revolting nature.)
Hours passed. Fiyani and I were wakeful while Aghib slept. Okocas was nowhere to be seen. That is expected: My father has been with the Children of God all his life and he is an elder now with a lot of responsibilities. He is one of few who has seen the inside of this place before; my sister and Aunt Aghib knew of it, but until now have only seen it from a distance; I had never heard of Onyx Hold until a day or so ago.
The cattle began to stir and awakened me from a doze, I recall, at one time, but there were plenty of drivers on watch so I didn't have to help. They quieted down.
A little before midnight I fell asleep.
Then I woke and Fiyani was shaking me but I would've awakened within another few moments because there was a commotion.
Everyone had his tent rolled and ready to go – we had not been told the time of leaving, or even if we would leave, but all know without having to ask that an order would come, for by morning there would be water for the people only and not the animals, and we had been informed by the priests that to lose any members of the herd in this place was as unacceptable as losing a person. (Two bulls had died after we entered, but they had been staggering. The water they had received after entering the Hold had not saved them and we had not even been able to cook and eat the meat as any hint of smoke would give us away. Very disappointing, that.)
A shadow fell upon me and I looked up – still trying to awaken, for I had had little sleep since we had entered Onyx Hold – and saw it was my father, Okocas, and by his bearing and stern look he brought news. Aghib was up, and we saw her perform a little bow and greet my father and he said "Where is Cuetio?" probably because he could not see me well with the light-beams all dancing and I jumped up and said, "Here, Father!" and then Fiyani came leading our cow Gamti, who had been with the herd.
All around us other Children of God stirred into wakefulness as their heads of households came to them in a similar manner. Lanterns flared and torches were lit at the priests' tent and the air was already full of smoke. The people would soon be moving.
My father Okocas gave my shoulder a little shake as he always did and said "There's the boy!" and then he addressed all of us. Meanwhile, my sister gave the cow some water and began slinging the travois. Aghib went to help.
Father said: "We will get ready to travel. We are going to go to Kahechi Latho and we have only a couple of hours – and we'll waste about an hour getting out of here – before the sun interferes. The Goddess's warriors have drinking water that we won't have to filter – we will see them outside the Hold and everyone's water-skin will be filled." (At this my sister Fiyani gave a little exclamation of relief and Aghib said "Praise God!" and all around us others among the tribe could be heard doing the same.)
These individual fighters – with their habit of shaving their faces and wearing their light-colored hair at shoulder length, and their alien habits of eating and drinking, with the tallest of them nearly twice my height and the least of them head-and-shoulders taller than Father – have not been with the Children of God forever, though my acquaintance with them has been lifelong, and my sister's: But our people are blessed and have been noted by the priests to have increased in numbers and influence since these warriors have been part of the tribe.
Each of our Six is the equal of ten or more fighters of ordinary size, and beloved by all – except our enemies – for their good and pleasing natures. They will help the Children of God raise and strike tents as happily as they will arrange for one of their armed contests, or a night of drinking and playing stones, and all any desert marauder has to do is take one look at them and he will forget any idea of a raid! They're often idle, for they have not the least difficulty and take little time obtaining whatever is needed to sustain or secure a number of people, so they will often turn their natural inclinations to games and contests. There seems to be no task too great for the Goddess's warriors, nor any problem sufficiently trifling that it will fail to attract their offer of assistance.
Okocas went on: "We'll leave via a different route than where we entered. Make ready and move when you are told to move. They'll take the cattle out first. Then we'll exit one by one. I am told the climb out is not as steep as the way in, and it's nighttime, but the dune-side is deep in sand for almost a mile – if we're lucky, it'll be a fast mile. On the other hand, if it's too fast, we'll die!"
Now our goats Esseh and Shi came up – I had fed them both and watered them before I had lain down to sleep, knowing that on the morrow I would most likely not be allowed to give them any more water. The male, Esseh, nosed at Father's scrip as he always carries bits of food for them, but received only a pat on the head for his trouble. Little Shi stood back seeming to make assessment of the situation as she customarily does. They were not tethered, but hobbled each with a thong about the right rear leg: Its dragging serves as a reminder not to stray. They are very smart goats and we never have to worry about them.
"Now," Father said, "let us all observe silence. You may see the archmage – take no notice of him. Do not call out to anyone. Drink water when you can and when it's time to march, march! If we're stuck out on the sand after the sun rises, we'll die!" (Of course he does not have to tell us this, but Father is always very thorough and complete, not to mention emphatic, when issuing orders.) "Cuetio and I will stay with Gamti to help her with the travois – you women, help each other and make great haste! Do we all understand?"
"Of course," Aghib muttered; she tied ed the burden she would've carried onto the travois, for it would not be easy for her to stay with Fiyani carrying anything besides her scrip and water-skin.
Aghib is often grumpy, but that is – as Father has explained more than once – because, like the men, our women have more responsibilities as they grow older, not fewer.
"Wrap your head," Father counseled further in a softer tone. "Do it now so you won't have to be told." Then, with more force: "You women, wrap your heads!"
"Yes, Father!" My sister answered laughingly, as she always does. In contrast to Aunt Aghib, this one is almost never seen grousing or down, my sister Fiyani. She laughs too easily, perhaps, but never goes on and on with it.
The only thing wrong with her otherwise is that she is infatuated with Naemas Long-Legs and it is an annoyance to see her mooning about and know she is thinking of that one – but at least she doesn't engage in the shameful behavior some of the other women do.
(I confess that once I saw her crying and, without upbraiding her or asking what she was crying about, offered comforting words and patted her arm, and told her to remember always how lucky she is and how blessed, regardless of her other troubles – and she responded beautifully, telling me that I was the best brother in the world. She said our mother, who she can remember although I cannot, would be very proud of me. Yes, it quite turned my head to the point that Okocas then asked me why I was grinning.)
It took only a few minutes more to ready everything for travel; then we, the three of us and our animals, stood in darkness for about half an hour while a causeway was formed in much the same manner as that which had admitted us to Onyx Hold. Aghib and Fiyani prayed quietly, as did just about everyone who waited.
Creation of our exit portal had been announced to us by a profound shaking from above and below that caused large pieces to fall from the covering of sand over the great center hole: We'd had warning, but there were a few terrified shrieks nonetheless, and the cattle-drivers had some trouble settling the beasts: Then came a whirling wind against which we had all had to cover our faces, and then, before the sand had stopped flying and through the outcries of disturbed animals, our priests were heard giving terse commands.
The causeway was finished. Most of the tribe went ahead of us, up a rock ledge, from thence to traverse an upward-tending furrow through frighteningly deep sand, turning twice to make what would have been a steep ascent more gradual. The sensation underfoot was like to half-hardened cement and we had no problem going up, except that we knew it was fashioned entirely of sand that, were the sorcery upholding it to fail, would collapse upon and smother us, or collapse beneath us, or both at the same instant.
In all this, we didn't see the warriors or the archmage, though it had certainly been his work.
The bulls (eager to get out, so they went quickly) were driven out first; our priests and their tents and families and animals followed; the cows and calves then exited, then everybody else.
We were almost last in line, as expected, due to my father's solicitude over for members of the tribe who are perhaps older, perhaps not as fit, or who out of fear hesitate to go forward. (On the occasion, even members who have traveled with the assembly for ten or more years will fear; there are a few times in my memory when I witnessed Father scolding someone who would fail to join the march.)
It was still dark when we got out – the sorcerous causeway delivered us to a cleared area just below the dune's summit on its south face, a hundred feet higher than where we had entered.
We emerged onto a flat, square, sunken area of firm sand like a fajanzi court, doubtless created with sorcery. There were a dozen or so of the tribe present, and two of the Goddess's warriors and their horses, and a few beasts.
It was still hot here, but so much less so that I was faint with relief, and praised God. Indeed, there was a noticeable freshening of the air that was very unexpected.
Around us people filled waterskins: Two of the Six each held up a large skin from which the Children of God took water.
We expressed blessings at the sight of our giants, who smiled and responded "We are glad. We are glad." (One will never hear these men say "praise God" – they are unbelievers, though as I have said they are righteous and responsible, generally, in their actions.)
Two of six war-horses stood with their heads down at ease, swishing their tails and munching their feedbags, their tack spread out on the unnaturally firm surface, while the warriors poured. It was a heartening sight. Everything smelled of sweat and stress, but with no suggestion of injury or blood.
Without a doubt, the tale of their rescue would be interesting.
The cattle were well along the march by the time we emerged – visualization of our surroundings was impaired, at least for me, as the (neatly-squared) sides of the clearing were higher than my head.
No additional instructions had been given as far as I knew, but it seemed that observing silence was of somewhat less importance now. That was reassuring. Even then, no one undertook to explain anything.
The Goddess herself was not seen, nor was the Second, nor the archmage, nor the other warriors. Naxosos King was nowhere around – his friends were absent, and the two priests.
Our route curved down through sliding sand, southwest and then north, skirting the area of small dunes we had been required to navigate going up. It was a quick walk, but more exposed and footing was troublesome – once our waterskins had been filled, Father growled at Aghib and Fiyani, "You two! Go! Go!" and the two women had gone, stumbling and sliding, holding hands, along the faint way that traced the lee of a ridge then zigzagged down the dune-side. The goats went, too – Esseh and Shi are unerring at keeping to the trail and setting a pace.
The risk for a terrible tumble was by appearance much less than it had been the other day, going up – however, the sand here was unstable and deep.
Father remained until almost everyone else had gone. The two warriors were readying their horses when he asked the remaining stragglers if they would like to go ahead and then, satisfied that no one was being abandoned, he and I and Gamti, dragging the travois of all our possessions (bulging waterskins included), prepared to make our way down.
The distance, height, and steepness of our trail daunted – the cattle and priests, quite far below but visible against the lighter-color sand and the tribe still descending were already making their way into the waste without any sign of mishap. This was reassuring.
Our God is wondrous and mighty, bringing us safely out of unimaginable peril time and time again.
Immediately we saw the travois would bog in the sliding sand, and it was heavy enough that it might even cause the cow to lose her footing. Father and I would have to help Gamti: This was expected.
We began our trail, emerging from the sunken court onto the vaguely-delineated trail. So glad was I to be out of and away from Onyx Hold that my steps were probably hurried – Okocas then spoke and said "Wait, boy! Turn and look!" and so I did.
To the west, all along the peaks of the Alethim-eya, from far southwards to almost even with where we were, storm-clouds bumbled with their insides glinting and flashing, and I was able to feel the moisture in the wind.
"How can that be?" I wondered. I was not the only one exclaiming over it now. Certainly, it was one of the most astonishing sights I've ever seen.
"The priests," someone said and someone else said "The Goddess," and Father said, "Our King is also capable of feats beyond most men – it's the Prophecy fulfilled," and then someone said in a booming voice – it was one of the two warriors – "Our Naxosos King accomplished a great working this day and it will be great in the telling!"
It's likely I would have remained there staring for minutes, but Father again shook my shoulder and said, "Let us not get too far behind!" and so we each lifted a limb of the travois and without urging Gamti started down the trail, which was very clear to follow now, and we started down the side of the great dune, and I started praying.
By the time we reached the dune's foot, the flickering in the west had ceased and a smudge of light had begun to show in the east. "We have two hours to cover a little more than six miles," Father said. Again he checked behind us – the two warriors, on their horses, were in the van, so he had little to worry about as far as people straying or getting lost: Still he acted as though the safety of all the people was his sole responsibility.
Gamti went eagerly, all but swift-footedly: No one ever has to explain to her or her sisters in the herd what the sun's rising on a march might cost. I walked at her head, between her eyes and the oncoming light, to shade her (having to trot in a few places, as she keeps a very good pace). As the ground flattened out and became firmer it was not as necessary for Father and I to assist with the travois and so we made decent time, with Father keeping us going, all the while making sure never to lose sight of those behind us.
I didn't see my aunt or my sister at any point – that was reassuring. They were making good time, too.
Even before the sun was halfway up, its heat was a sword. "We really have to move, now," Father would say every so often, as though we were not already toiling to the extent of our capabilities.
As is his way, Okocas seemed to increase in strength and alertness as we traveled: On stretches where the going was easy enough that Gamti could pull the travois herself, he would range up and down the line, offering to help anyone who seemed to lag. (Sometimes I wonder if this doesn't irritate people who are trying to fall behind so they can sleep, chase game, or be intimate – but then all these are forbidden on the march, anyway.)
I know Kahechi Latho and the signs that we are drawing near. It is not unheard-of to travelers along the range, but generally passed by, as there is a larger and more reliable source of water, Waram H'thel, within another few miles. The latho, I have been told, used to be extensive with two wells and a number of structures along it. These had all been abandoned, now sunken beneath the sand, and the latho identifiable by a pool that rises and recedes at random intervals. At its greatest twenty cattle can drink to repletion, after which it takes hours for the water to come back to where it was before – most of the time it is a wallow that animals and humans can dig to find a trickle, and perhaps every other year there will be no water at all except that the Redoubt can bring forth. (He has done this that I have seen a couple of times and by report many dozens of times. Though it pains me to admit, his ability is profound.)
An hour and a half up, the sun blared at our backs across the Waste of Murmayi, so named on the map, as, turning west toward the mountains, we drew within shouting distance of the latho.
Fiyani and Aghib came out greeting us enthusiastically, and showed us to the spot where we were to pitch. (Aghib is sixty but still very game on the march and, no matter how tired she is, she'll always be there at the end to offer a hand in pitching, water, and cheering words.) There were already tents and awnings sprouting around the pool that was thankfully quite broad this day: In fact, there was more water in that place than I have ever seen or heard about. It was also muddy.
The muddiness made no difference at this time, however: To my eye and the eyes of a little more than a hundred beasts and about a hundred people, Kahechi Latho was as lovely as any tree-shaded, flower-decked upland pond.
The bulls, their hides solid with mud, were herded to one end, where a crumbly bank and its hedge of thorny, tough bushes provided some respite from the heat; the cows and calves stood grouped here and there, next to tents and under awnings.
Our cattle are all very good beasts; they were and still are wild upon this very land, living in large groups together and traveling many leagues a day in search of forage and water; the story of the herd animals deciding to throw in with the Children of God is of course well-known.
We unslung and unloaded the travois while Gamti hastened to drink and splash in the pool. I put up an awning to make a place of shade and catch whatever breeze might exist – and there was a bit more than expected here, because of the storm upon the range.
Our God is always merciful in ways that gladden one's heart.
And there were no insects! Without a doubt, some would be along soon, but for now it was quite pleasant.
No one had to tell us that neither the King nor the Goddess-on-Earth were returned, but there was no general distress – however it must be, they were certainly well, and the tale of their return would be interesting.
Two of the Six were at this latho upon our arrival, so now there were four warriors here with the people and two, to appearance, still out. (The two horses newly arrived, who had marched with us, stood in the pool bathing their feet, heads up and tails swishing, manes tossing, snuffling the air. A couple of temple acolytes poured water over these to wash the sweat from them. I then noticed that all six of the war-horses were present – they're always easy to spot, almost as tall as the camel, and greater in overall size – and wondered.)
No one made an explanation and for the most part everyone continued to observe silence. I was bristling with questions, you may be sure; Fiyani laughed when she saw me glancing around and said, "He's all right!"
I assumed she was speaking of Naemas Long-Legs and gave her a disapproving look, which made her laugh all the more.
Fiyani was not the only one who laughed: Every face I saw reflected relief and joy at being safe, in the open again, and away from Onyx Hold.
Okocas and I labored a short time setting up the tent; then, as the sun reached its third hour past rising, as per his custom Father made absolutely certain that no Child of God had been left upon the waste and went to confer with elders and priests while I laid out my mat and blankets and rested in the shade of our awning. Presently Esseh and Shi came to join me: caked with mud and sand, but they know not to walk upon stores or bedding (and I got used to their odor long ago). Relieved of her burdens and after a drink and wallow, Gamti went on a stroll around the camp to visit her friends, the other cows and their calves.
By this time I had not seen my sister or aunt for more than an hour, but this is typical for them: The first chance they get, every time, they will go to consult and compare observations with, and complain to all the other women.
Fires were still forbidden, but the Children of God always carry plenty of food that doesn't require cooking. I had a few bites of pemmican and some fresh water – obtained after some travail for us by our warriors – and was replete and grateful.
I have to say however that it felt very strange for the Goddess-on-Earth to be absent, and not to see the camel – yes, she and her Second will go away every so often, usually in company with the archmage, a warrior or two, and others of the tribe, but this is always planned, with a great deal of preparation and explanation, and many goodbyes, and the priests telling us each day of their absence how many days it would be until their return.
I wondered where the Goddess-on-Earth was, and why there was a blood-spoor upon the air, and why only four warriors were present instead of all the Six – and yet all six horses were here. I wondered what had become of our Naxosos King. "It will be great in the telling," the one fighter had said.
But since there was no bad news and we were not under any kind of threat, I began to doze. Even in the shade the heat was forceful, but the Children of God are at home in the world, and always ready for anything.
When I awoke, Okocas was sitting nearby; it was less than an hour before sunset. We were shaded, presently, by the bank that went all around the latho and was higher on its westernmost edge; Father had adjusted the awning to catch the breeze. Still noted was an absence of insects. From his demeanor, my father had already given and been given his news and was sitting at ease. Fiyani and Aghib were not present – I guessed they were at the women's tent and I would not see either again until the morning.
Father had washed and he was wearing fresh clothing. Even though our travail had only just ended, he seemed quite peaceful, even happy. That is Okocas. He will put the meanest person before himself and wait until everyone else has got a meal, a drink, a bath, and a nap before applying to his own needs – and then will seem that he just awakened from a restorative sleep and ready to begin a busy day.
Sitting up, I began an apology, but with an amused glance he waved his hand and replied "Save it, boy. I know you didn't sleep in the Hold except for a few minutes. You were shit-scared!" and then he laughed.
"I'm no longer shit-scared," I said and he laughed again and so did I, and then I said, "I'm only everyday-scared!" and he said "That's the case here, too!"
A wind blew now from the gloriously-lit western mountains to cross the lowland; then, tumbling over the bank of Kahechi Latho and riffling its water, spilled upon the area of tents with a hint of coolness. Heard were people exclaiming, "Praise God!"
Looking around, I said "Where are the goats?" and Father said, pointing, "They would feast upon those bushes over there."
Again I started to laugh and he added "I tried to stop them," and we both laughed.
"Are their hobbles on?" I asked and he said "Yes." Then I said, "If they get tangled they will learn a lesson." After a few more chuckles, we sat some minutes in silence.
"Well," I said then, "what happened? I mean, what happened to the Goddess and the King? Why were the Six detained? Where are the two who aren't present? Why are their horses here?"
He answered.
It took a time for him to say as much as he knew because of my many questions, but when he was at the end, I found I had more questions and he reminded me that we were still to observe silence as much as possible, so I knew I could only ask one more thing.
I thought a little – the sun now was halfway hidden in the range and our latho was in shade – and then said, "All right, what happened to the enemy horsemen that were here at this place, awaiting the tribe?"
I didn't want to mention I had smelled blood – anyway, Okocas would have noticed that already himself.
His answer was expected: "They were all killed." Then, after some thought: "I'm not sure about their horses, but I think they ran off, or were run off, after that because they're sure not around here. There's a line of tracks that was partially cleared away by the warriors when they cleaned up the bodies, apparently – they lead away, that way." He pointed in a westerly direction. "That's what I learned because several people asked about the horses. They're worth a lot if you can catch one." He thought another moment and said: "Jara horses will return to their hold if the handler dies. So."
"You mean," I said, "that two of the Six destroyed ten men?"
"No – it was the Six plus the, the magus." Here he glanced sidelong at me. He did not like mentioning the Redoubt, or giving him credit for anything. No one does.
"Why aren't they all here now?" I asked.
"I'm guessing," Father said, "but I figure everyone we don't see is with the King."
"Ah," I said. "Did he take an injury?"
"Sort of." Here Father waved his hands around in a gesture that meant he could only surmise as to an answer. "He did something heroic, we're told, and then he had to go lie down. Something along that line." Here he laughed, his tone suggesting he wondered how our Naxosos King, as beloved as he so surely is, could have accomplished something heroic.
We all had witnessed the spear-throwing contest, however, and all understood what it meant.
I caught myself before I spoke, and then I decided to speak anyway. "I like him, this Naxosos King," I said.
At this Father smiled. "Everyone likes him. Some like him too much."
To show that I understood the danger that had begun with the spear-throwing contest, I nodded, and Father went on: "The Steward of Arigne – you know of him?"
"Yes – of course, Father!"
Grinning, he said "From what has happened, it is suspected the Jaras seek to capture the King so they can be paid a large sum by the Steward, his name is Aritritas."
Again I nodded to show I understood.
As though on cue, someone in a nearby tent began to gripe loudly, "What about 'observe silence' is so unclear to them?!" (It was Hachen, who envies and dislikes Father: Okocas is already an elder just into his forties. Despite his age Hachen is left out of the conclave, as he cannot help but gossip and tell tales to impress women, my sister being one of those women. Father could have him ejected from the assembly if he liked, but he treats this other with more than tolerance – nay, he seems to like Hachen.)
"No worries, neighbor," Okocas replied. "And thanks for the reminder!" He nudged my foot with his foot and so I said, "Thank you, neighbor!"
Father went to lie down, where his bed had been arranged for him and tenting placed to maximize the breeze.
A lack of female voices was noticeable. All were gone to the women's enclave: This indicated a low level of threat that I found hard to believe, myself: The story Father and the elders had received involved more Jaraturi fighters than anyone, even the oldest and most well-traveled members of the tribe – could recall seeing in one place anywhere. About this item I was more than a little curious.
I caught no hint that the archmage was around and that was all right, though wondering where that one might be created a degree of apprehension.
I had missed afternoon prayers; eventually however it was time for evening prayers.
As the light died, the goats came to rest under the awning. It is always reassuring to see them taking their ease, as it's a sign there are no large predator animals, nor human enemies near.
A priest came around with a jar and spied me sitting, and asked if I wanted a cup of wine, and I said yes. I sat drinking in sips until the sun was well down and the camp had gone quiet. I was still tired and short on sleep, so after a time I dozed.
The next news came with the morning. The elders called an assembly and so the first I knew of anything was when Fiyani came to awaken me.
"You are covered in sand and dirt," she observed. "There is plenty of clean water that they brought; you don't have to wash in the latho."
"I need to change my clothes, too," I said. I looked around and saw the tribe assembling near the priests' complex, pitched a little south and east of the main encampment, where the ground was hard-baked and flat. Someone was already speaking. That is expected. They never wait for anyone.
"Yes, we're called to assemble," she said. "Do you want to wash first?"
"No," I said and she extended her hand and helped me rise, and we went to the assembly.
In the press of people, it was easy to see the four fighters standing behind the priests, who faced the assemblage. They blocked out the sun that was in its first hour of rising.
Father Ivask, a priest in his nineties, we all know him well, was giving the news in his cracked, quaking voice while everyone listened most attentively (they had to or they would miss most of it).
"Therefore," he was saying, "the Goddess-on-Earth wishes for us to make for Latho Zieamoh as soon as we possibly can." Waving at the mutter this provoked: "Zieamoh is a poor oasis. But there is less chance for an encounter or attack. Usually none of these desert raiders will attempt an assault on the Children of God. But, by report, the Jaraturi are strongly motivated by the reward or ransom they might obtain."
He turned about as though addressing us latecomers. "The Steward's lust to capture our Naxosos King is known for many a year now. It is the reason he is here on the desert with us; his father is a far-thinking, provident man and praise God for him, for the Gorardeno Nathaniel."
Some muttered "Praise God" and he went on: "Those of us Aringene may know that this was the case even before the King was born: Aritritas, cursed is his name, made an attempt to capture the Lady Ember – God and the angels bless her – before our King's birth, and he was frustrated in that attempt. The Gorardeno went through a great ordeal and expense to secure the lady and conceal her and our King when he was a child, in the City of Men Viragos. The king came to us almost nine months ago, as everyone will recall. He is twenty-eight years in age, soon to be twenty-nine!" (Ivask announced this as though to attain the age of twenty-eight was a special accomplishment – I suppose in our King's case, it is.)
"He fled the city of Viragos three years hence," Ivask informed us further, "and lived among the fishers until he came to us. The fisher people cured him of a terrible injury – now we only notice that his nose seems a bit crooked, but it could have killed him."
A man cried loudly "This is so!" – likely a priest, but I didn't recognize the voice.
Father Ivask continued: "The King cannot return to Viragos after the Temple there tried to arrest him. That is how he came to be injured. And part of the reason, there's a price on his head." After some hushed exclamations, he said, "Incidentally, as I'm sure some of you know, Naemas Tagros Long-Legs is our King's friend for ten years now, and one of our new priests who accompanied the King upon this mission is Naemas's brother Naimejo. The Tagros Naimejo's fame as an evangelist is known far and wide, just as Naemas's – is this not so, Children of God?"
There were outcries at this. Rather clandestinely, I glanced around trying to see the King's mother, but I didn't see her. most of the women had their heads covered, so it was hard to tell who was who.
She is older than Father by a year or two, but the Lady Ember seems a great deal younger – she is small and lithe, her eyes bright and her face full of freckles. It is not just her coloring, but her stance, sparkling voice, and fiery manner that make her seem the same age as my sister, who is not yet twenty.
And can she dance! The Lady Ember is new to the assembly, but has been so quick to learn our ways that often she stays near the head of the line until the sun begins to rise. This is not an exaggeration.
(We kids are not supposed to watch or take part in the dance so I try mostly to keep these ideas out of my mind, especially at lessons.)
Father Ivask went on: "We are all familiar with the legend of the soratrap and also we know there are many who believe Naxosos King to be that individual, who is the culmination of many legends. There is a general belief that the true king has returned; over the last forty years or so – two generations – countless rumors have propagated as to his birth, settlement of origin, and location. The official account is that this one died as a newborn, but almost no one believes it."
A murmur of agreement went up at this. After a moment, Father Ivask continued.
"That our King is so hunted and for so little cause is one factor suggesting he, our Lord the Gorardeno's Naxosos is the returned ruler of Arigne and the People of God. And what he accomplished at the South Water yesterday is evidence." Here the priest paused for a moment to allow the whispers to die away.
Now a woman cried out "God is good!" then started crying. Without a doubt, it was the King's mother. A few women gathered about another in a dark-blue headscarf as though to offer comfort.
Our God is is always and in every way good.
"However," Father Ivask continued, "it may also be that he is simply a sorcerer of great power, born to an influential family. A few such exist in our part of the world at present." Before the assembly could begin to complain, he said further, "Two of these, for example, are our holy priests the Tagros Naimejo, who as I said is Long-Legs' brother older by about ten years, and Maynaliel who is nicknamed Tolalo – you know him – they assisted the warriors' escape by calling a storm. We all saw this upon our exit from Onyx Hold. Members of the tribe may not know these two, but we priests surely recognize them as mighty in magic. Also, they are powerful evangelists. The fisher-folk know them well."
I reflected that this was probably why we were looking at water in the Kahechi Latho today.
Father Ivask said, "Know that our King is safe. He underwent an ordeal that demonstrated him to be accomplished in magic, as well as a man of sagacity and cunning. The Goddess states she had little to do except to make sure that the rescue party found the location and then escaped. They – Fathers Naimejo and Tolalo, the Goddess and her Second, Naxosos King, and our scouts Zarosis's son Korsis and Tagros Naemas Long-Legs – are all safe. The warriors Stanilomaxinon and Terenorint are hale.
"After they rid this latho of our enemies, the two of them returned to attend the King. Tagros Naemas ran all night transporting the King, who was unconscious, to safety: From that place, he then brought the four donkeys here to Kahechi Latho, and returned across the sand in the morning heat."
"They're at Onyx Spires, aren't they?" someone yelled and a number of others could be heard shushing him.
Father Ivask creaked – he was tiring, of course, but that would never stop him from delivering the message – "We won't talk about their current location." Then, after a brief pause: "The archmage is whole and killed some of our enemies." (At this, someone spat and a grumble arose, though it abated quickly.) Then, laughing, the ancient priest said, "Nay, we should thank that one, for he also worked his utmost to deliver the Children of God."
"We'd be sitting back in Onyx Hold watching the herd die!" a man called and this was followed by someone contending "And he would be the one to thank for that!" and then another fellow who sounded like one of the cattle-drovers said "We could have got out and the animals, but we'd be leaving a trail of bodies!" and another demanded "Who would have fought the Jaras for water at Kahechi Latho?!"
Father Ivask waited for this to die down and then said, "They – Father Tolalo and Father Naimejo, Naemas and Korsis, the archmage, the Goddess-on-Earth and her Second, and two of the Six, Terenorint and Stanilomaxinon, are at this moment with the King at the Onyx Spires, in a good hiding place. Let us all praise God now."
The tribe raised the paean and after a couple of seconds the animals joined in. It was a little shock to hear the surprised keening and squawks of wild birds that must have been gathered due to the pool's increase. (And still no noticeable insects!)
The water was a miracle, I reminded myself. I had been tired and frightened as the Children of God had exited Onyx Hold, but the storm I had witnessed over the Alethim-eya was clear in my mind.
When the noise had dwindled, Father Ivask said: "Our king did this thing himself, however, that he caused all the Jaraturi to fall down as though asleep and then he delivered the Six, and their horses, and the water they carried, out of danger and without harm – not even to our enemies. Praise God yet again, you Children of God."
The animals were ready this time and the paean went up in a mighty voice. Great is our undying God, who knows us and loves us, and protects us each one.
When it had all died down, someone asked: "Father, when will we see our Lord again?" and Ivask answered: "The work of magic he performed exhausted his vital capacity and he was stricken afterwards, and is ill – therefore, we will see him again, and the party, when he is well enough to travel."
Once more the ancient priest turned about, his clouded, heavy-lidded eyes searching the assembly, and surprisingly his gaze landed upon me. He smiled, and said "You kids, the priests will make to you a request: Each of you who is under fifteen years of age, select something from your favorite possessions and you will make a gift of this to the king when he arrives, for he has sacrificed something of his youth to deliver you from peril. I am certain he will eventually be healed but it will take time."
Ivask waited for the murmuring to die down – one comic called out rudely "Oh, so he's going to let someone heal him?" which drew a laugh. He then said, "You lads, you Temple boys, in fact it is forbidden to you to own anything beyond the necessary so it goes without saying you are exempt." Then: "I feel we will likely see them, the company, a few days from now and at Zieamoh. So you kids have, in theory, plenty of time to make a choice."
At this pronouncement a laugh arose. Still looking at me, he said, "It may be that some of your fellow kids are not present at the moment – Cuetio, I will ask you to notify one and all."
So amazed was I that he knew my name, that it took me a few seconds to stammer that I had heard him and would obey.
Father Ivask said further: "Regarding any gift that you may give – of course it should not be something cumbersome. The king is already weighted down with possessions. Cuetio, I will charge you also with gauging the suitability of each child's gift."
"I will do my utmost," I managed to say, "Father!" and the old priest smiled yet again and said, "I'm sure you will!"
There was more parley, mostly the elders all deciding as a group that we should leave for Zieamoh late, after everyone had an opportunity to nap, but my mind was racing now with the responsibility I had been given.
Before I was all the way to the tent, Fiyani caught me and said, "Don't return to your bed before you wash and change your clothes!"
"I'm not going back to bed. But I will wash, thank you."
"I put your things on the mat under the awning."
I walked away thinking of the kids in the camp and where they all might be at this time of day.
Four of this assembly's kids are little – I'm thinking – under the age of five: These are Unimi and Gyesha's kids and they have three other, older kids between them under age ten for a total of seven. The little ones are almost always with the two mothers. The three older ones might be anywhere.
As I walked, I wondered if any of the temple acolytes – there were four among them under age fifteen including the King's brother – might try to give the King something in spite of their rules. I know these boys and it's clear they're often plagued with jealousy and feel want and privation. Their training is severe.
And there were two other kids between ages five and ten, and then me, and then a boy older than me who was almost fifteen. And Lumdi – no, I remembered then: She had just turned fifteen.
My mind swarmed so with ideas (and what would I choose to give the King? and what would I do if Jechelo decided to be a bully when I spoke with him? will any of the acolytes try to give me a gift for the King even though they're forbidden?) that I walked past the tent and then had to turn back to get to my basin of water and clean clothing. (A copper basin, our mother's. It is actually quite fine – but of course, the king has basins and cups and belt buckles and knives and all manner of things and moreover made of gold…)
By the time I had washed and changed, and tried to comb my hair, I had decided upon a course of action. We would be moving to Latho Zieamoh this evening; that I saw as being in my favor.
My sister waited, apparently, until she saw me step outside the tent and hurried up. "Unimi and Gyesha were there; they still are. They have the four little ones with them and they heard." Here she spoke of the two mothers of seven children with their "four little ones," a girl still an infant and three boys under the age of five years.
"Father Ivask is still speaking?"
"No; it's one of the Six telling about the rescue."
For a moment I wondered whether I should return to our tent to fetch my good cloak, so as to make more of an impression on the other kids, but taking into consideration the morning heat, which was considerable, and also that Jechelo would notice thereby that I was trying to appear commanding, I decided against it.
"I'll speak to Unimi and Gyesha first," I said to Fiyani. As I walked away, she called out suddenly, "What are you going to give him, Cueth?"
