TRUMP VICTORY

I got what I wanted. Have a nice day, y'all! #America  

Excerpt from JTPYO - King of the Waste [3] / the trap (the snipers)

Hello, party people. The next part I'm going to do here is from the end of "the trap" - "the children's gifts." 

Some of this is old, like from 2017 or so. When rewriting "the trap" I tried to preserve some of the original language. Just to piss you off. 

(READ!!!!!) Link to disclaimer:

Just another day in You-Know-Where (Scarlett_156's blog): My disclaimer (scarlett156.blogspot.com)

––––

THIS IS ALL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL

Copyright © 2024 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.

Brief synopsis: 

   Naxosos and his cohort of eight other people – including his friends Korsis Zarodi, Tagros Naemas, the two priests Naimejo and Tolalo, and the sorcerer Joliel, and with Thais, the Goddess-on-Earth and her Second Nirith far ahead of the rest of the company – have, acting on information gathered in the dream-world and basic intuition, set out to try to free the six warriors attached to the Children of God where they have become trapped in a box canyon as they obtain water for the tribe. Naxosos employs sorcery to enact this rescue and in the process a great many memories are enkindled.

   The group is presently at a narrows, where it has been suspected correctly that an ambush was laid.

Even at a mile out, the Spires were menacingly tall, sheer, and precipitous to the extent that they appeared man-created.

The area was quiet to view except for meandering dust devils. In fact, the gusting winds provided substantial relief from the heat. Breaking his silence, Joliel informed Naxosos that another reason desert folk avoided the Reach involved storms that arose without warning, and the lack of any sort of shelter to protect a traveler from same.

"Are they taking me somewhere to hide me?" Naxosos asked, voicing his own particular dread. Then, shifting uncomfortably in the beast's saddle: "Hey, I would like to walk; this creature is getting tired." (In truth, the donkey seemed bothered by little; his own behind, however, was getting tired and he yearned to walk.)

"Stay on," the sorcerer replied firmly, giving him a wry look as though in suppressed amusement at his discomfort, "you'll need your strength at the end." Now that one walked so close Naxosos could have touched him. (The donkey, to its credit, did not bolt or shy away, though it kept setting its ears back.)

"I don't much like the way that sounds." Up ahead, Korsis and Naemas had uncovered their faces in order to converse, but now were re-covering to shield their eyes from the sun.

"I wasn't in favor of your coming along, just so you'll know. They actually figured out where the warriors were late last night, after lights-out in the camp; I set out at midnight and verified that they are where your priests said they are. And that there are many Jaras, hm, yes." With a keen look: "So put that particular part of your anxiousness to rest." Smiling toothily: "Personally, I think you and Naemas and Korsis should have stayed behind. Me and the women, and your priests, could do what is needed. But oh well."

"Naemas is right. This is very uncharacteristic behavior for you, friend."

"Wait until you see where I screwed the lights out of your girl, excuse me, girls – oh, wait: your girls and your catamite, although not all at the same time – and then you'll see why I'm being so nice. The rest of your life will be a nightmare of jealousy! Naemas knows! Do you not perceive how upset he is?" Then: "This part is going to be bad, the sun will be right in our faces."

"So, I'm not going to be warehoused somewhere?" (He has to be lying…)

The sorcerer gave him another fey look. "Is that truly your most prominent concern, my liege?" he said, then: "Not unless we lose. Then, yeah, they'll probably want for you to hide. There are lots of places we could hide in forever! Most of them are exceedingly pleasant!" The sorcerer's tone suggested an almost childlike relish for the idea.

"So, we could…lose."

With a snort: "You could."

Ahead, spindly-legged shadows trailed Naimejo and Tolalo on their donkeys.

As wispy plumes of high-flying dust yellowed the upper air, the sun's setting turned the western sky a blazing silver-gold-copper and everyone went looking at the ground.

***

They trudged until the sun was but a radiant sliver over the western mountains, at which point they were only a couple of stadia out from the Pass and able to see down into the foothills and lowland, with the two arms of Onyx Spires drawing in on them like the beak of a gigantic raptor. The heat lessened, though Naxosos had been given to understand that this place never froze like other parts of the waste at night.

Gloom coagulated about them as they stopped for a few minutes to rest, eat and drink, and say vespers.

So tedious had the march become before this point that Naxosos had quite lost track of his fear, but now (watching the sky darken by slow degrees as he stumbled slowly about, sipping and nibbling, trying not to limp, groan aloud, or otherwise show that he was in distress from the ride and his burned shoulders) terror started to seep back in.

Naemas and Korsis were sweaty and dust-covered, but neither would hear of changing places with Naxosos, or taking a portion of his water. (Tolalo overheard Naxosos making these offers, and the subsequent refusals, and angrily shushed the three of them.)

Naimejo brought out a flask and everyone but the sorcerer had a drink; this was a great surprise to Naxosos, who had never seen anyone drinking when Joliel was about that the other would not importune for, sometimes rudely demand, and occasionally outright purloin, at least a couple of swallows.

Observing, he noted the same casting-about behavior as before, as though the other might be on watch for a threat.

Onyx Pass was an eerie place even from afar. Up close, the Spires, gigantic fanged jaws on each side with gusts whistling through, their shadows growing long, running together like spilled ink, did ably suggest a lurking menace.

Their repast was a short one and soon they were making ready to march again. Despite the advancing twilight, visibility was adequate due to the light-colored ground. The sorcerer broke his silence to advise them to hurry, or lose the light entirely: "It's a lot darker down in the lowland."

Before they moved out, Tolalo gave each of the donkeys some water, then performed an incantation over them so they would not tire, and to heal the sunburned areas on their faces and ears.

The three animals stood expectantly and eagerly, hides twitching, as the old priest held his hands over their foreheads and muttered a chant. The reaction of each was a startled snort and head toss, and to prance a short distance – one kicked its heels and brayed.

Upon finishing, Tolalo inquired of Korsis and Naemas: "How about you, either of you two?"

Naemas chirruped "Sure!" and Korsis replied with a chuckle "No fucking way!" almost on the instant. (Jealously, Naxosos wished he could ask for relief from his sore haunches, but didn't dare.)

Tolalo laughed and held his hands out, and performed a similar incantation over Naemas, who shuddered comically, rubbing his arms, and exclaimed "Brrrrrr! Cold, cold, COLD!" After this, Naxosos observed that for a short interval his friend seemed to emanate a faint but perceptible chill, and his increase in alertness and poise was as noticeable as the donkeys'. (Korsis, who had refused healing as he typically did, had also regained strength and endurance, but via more conventional means: A drink of water, a bite to eat, and a minute of prayer.)

Everyone except Joliel was shrouded in grit, Naemas and Korsis more, and Tolalo and Naimejo less so, and equally swathed in pale sand to the knees. Each carried a good amount of water; however, none did more than wash his hands before eating.

("Look, Naxo stands there expecting for us to wash him off," Korsis Zarodi had joked, to which Naxosos's terse reply was, "No, it's just that I'm in too much pain to move right now." "I'll heal you," Tolalo had offered; Naxosos refused.)

The sorcerer, looking as he always did, had stood nearly the whole time playing with his scrawny beard, his unblinking stare toward the west and the lowland, and the mountains beyond.

Wincing in pain, Naxosos was the first to remount. He was eager to be off and felt the donkey also wanted to be moving again.

The track left by the Goddess-on-Earth and her Second on the camel was being erased by breezes as he watched. The brooding Spires and the increasing dark combined and recombined in his head to form a whirl of disagreeable scenarios.

Joliel said, in seeming reply to Naxosos's unexpressed ideas, "Don't worry about the women! You've seen what they can do. Each of them separately can do that; what they can do together is always more than enough." Yet the sorcerer continued to gaze up into the Spires, especially those to the north.

He seems to wish to reassure me, was Naxosos's worried thought.

"That's what I said, too!" Naemas said, taking the pack donkey's bridle and starting westwards. Then, in the tone of quotation: "Each ill that befalls the Goddess-on-Earth creates a new garden for God's Children!"

Ignoring Naemas, the sorcerer gazed at Naxosos and uttered tonelessly, "That's why I argued against your coming along, Naxo: She expects for me to protect you. You are not really needed. In fact, you are a liability." Then, with sudden cheer: "But whatever! I have to go ahead now and make sure you fools don't get lost. You'll see me a little later."

To Naxosos's surprise – and the donkey's relief, or so it seemed – the sorcerer began to drift away, sidling off in the direction of the Spires to their right, his attention seeming drawn to something high off the ground.

"I won't get lost, dick," Korsis muttered in answer to Joliel. "Believe me," and Naemas stated as he walked off, "Funny you should mention it: I was just thinking of now nice it would be if we never saw you again!"

Naimejo and Tolalo on their donkeys, meanwhile, receded into dark and distance as they advanced into the Pass – they didn't talk, but cast worried glances at the towers of stone rising on each side.

Korsis began to follow Naemas and the pack-donkey, but Joliel then called out breezily, "Korsis, walk along with Naxo, will you?" The dancer growled a short response and Joliel, who was now some yards off, the wind stirring his black garment as he gazed into the north – he continued as though nothing else had been said, "Don't go too fast: If someone breaks a leg, it will cause a great interruption. As I have repeatedly informed you: Healing is not my area of expertise. I only know a couple of ways to fix broken people; neither is what you would consider convenient or friendly."

Without another sound or word the sorcerer then disappeared as Naxosos looked on, and not even a puff of dust to show the direction he'd gone.

"Just shut up, Joliel," Korsis griped as they started to walk once more; the donkey set its heels at first as the dancer tried to lead it, but Korsis then advised, comically, "I wasn't talking about you!" and so it followed him; after a few seconds he let go of its halter and not only did it follow, but seemed to hasten to keep up.

"I don't think he heard you," Naxosos remarked to Korsis, again wondering how Joliel managed to move about so swiftly. Priests he'd known who could walk unseen, or cover ground more rapidly than other men, but heretofore had supposed these skills to be the result of many years of pious and diligent study, even if one was born to the Art – and the sorcerer did not strike him as one given to study and practice.

He would have to ask about it at a more opportune time.

A couple of stars glimmered in the darkening east when, some minutes later, they arrived at the great defile (Onyx Pass, Naxosos reminded himself) of the opposed ranges (Onyx Spires).

The pass was at its narrowest about sixty yards wide, overlooking a lowland – a long-dried river valley – threaded with washouts and gullys. The sky contained some light over the mountains, enough to see by.

Stark vertical jags of naked, gray-streaked, black stone towered on each side. The stone was the same as that of Onyx Hold by appearance, which Naxosos considered strange.

He found himself glancing with trepidation at the Spires, especially those to their north, in which direction the sorcerer had vanished: A menace seemed to hang in the air, but faint, like a residue from a tragedy long in the past.

That he smelled no blood was reassuring, but something had alerted Joliel – that much was clear.

Thais and Nirith, he reasoned, had come through here and it seemed nothing had stopped or delayed them, They were not that far ahead that an attacker could have dealt with them and got rid of all traces so quickly, were they?

He realized he had been listening intently for some minutes as Korsis paced just ahead with the donkey trotting complacently in his footsteps (the creature seemed quite content to keep to the trail now that it had been cured of its fatigue and discomfort, and the heat was dying).

He could hear nothing but wind and the sounds of animal hooves crunching on the crisp-baked ground, and his own companions' trudging. It seemed unlikely that an attack would occur, and yet a foreboding remained.

Even in the intensifying dusk, he was able to observe sand- and wind-hollowed nooks and arches in the Spires and wondered if someone observed their progress.

Ever-chatting Korsis maintained an atypical silence, glancing back and forth constantly, as he kept pace with Naxosos on the donkey.

Their group was at this point straggling, the two priests far in the lead, nearly invisible against the increasing dusk; Naemas leading the pack animal ranged behind them; Naxosos on his donkey and Korsis on foot were many yards to the rear.

Joliel was nowhere to be seen. Naxosos could not even smell him.

"We should close it up, here," Korsis rasped as he trotted at Naxosos's right heel. (All the while, the dark continued to descend and the steel-lavender sky cooled to luminous, deep blue. With each stride, more of the lowland could be viewed.)

Pulling down his face-covering, Korsis cleared his nose and then spat, and said: "Lotta places we can lose the trail where we're going. Snakes and so forth, too. The old boys will wait, but we need to hustle."

"Are we about to be attacked?" Naxosos inquired – it seemed so improbable, but on the other hand his nerves jangled and the back of his neck felt like someone had poured freezing water down it.

"Not sure," Korsis answered in a preoccupied tone; then he called out: "Hey! Naemas!"

Naemas stopped; the pack-donkey stopped with him. The animal also kept glancing with apparent unease toward the northern Spires.

"We need to close it up!" Korsis repeated.

Naxosos set his heels to his donkey and it began to pace a bit faster. He said then to the dancer Korsis Zarodi: "How will you keep up?"

"Like this!" Korsis said. In a startling burst of motion, the dancer broke into a run, and before Naxosos could prompt his mount into faster movement, Korsis had reached Naemas some thirty yards distant and stopped: Each of his strides raised a ghostly, slow-to-settle dust-plume.

The three of them with the two donkeys stood at the narrows of Onyx Pass; Naimejo and Tolalo were another couple of dozen yards ahead, where the ground began to incline toward the lowland. Upon each hand obsidian towers jutted into the darkening sky. Especially upon the right, northern arm, the spiky projections soared nearly a thousand feet. Some of them appeared hand-hewn, with arches and balconies, and creases that looked like stairs.

Naemas and Korsis stood talking. The pack animal rested with its head down, tail swishing and ears flipping but it glanced about as before, like it sensed a predator in ambush nearby. The breezes moaned and muttered.

Naxosos on his donkey was within a few feet of them when a shrill, despairing scream broke the air from somewhere high above and to their right.

So violently did Naxosos flinch that he nearly toppled from his saddle, and caused the donkey to stagger. Seeing this, Korsis ran to him and took the animal's bridle.

Naxosos exclaimed, "Is that Joliel?! What –"

Korsis began to answer but then, as the three of them looked on in varying degrees of bewilderment, first one figure swathed in dark, flapping material, then a second, plunged from a shadowy niche in the spires upon their right, to shatter upon the floor of Onyx Pass.

Especially in the case of the second figure, each of these individuals seemed to have leaped with tremendous force and not simply fallen: Each was observed to sail, robes flapping, for some distance before plummeting downward.

Initially the events were unclear in the growing dark, but the bodies in their voluminous garments breaking against the hard ground, each with a dreadful crash and splash of pale dust, made it easy enough to piece the scene together.

"What…" Naxosos repeated. Neither figure had looked like Joliel, but horrific imaginings sank barbs into his mind and his skin tingled to the point that he couldn't tell if his heart was beating or not.

"Shush!" Naemas said. "Wait!" Korsis also seemed to be holding his breath. The two donkeys snuffled anxiously and twitched as though beset by a host of flies.

The priests had stopped also. It was hard to see their expressions or hear their speech, but each seemed to frown up into the northern Spires as though alarmed, but unsure about what to do.

A minute passed during which there was a great deal of tension, but nothing happened. There was no sound or sign of approach, no voices, no hoofbeats, no clanging of weapons.

A relatively forceful wind then boomed up from the lower Pass, resulting in a sharp spray of dust against which everyone had to cover his face for a few moments.

Joliel appeared from the murkiness to the north. Even with night falling, he was easy to see with his black raiment flapping against the light-colored earth. Now he walked at a normal pace; indeed, there was a swagger in his stance.

He killed them.

How this might have happened, Naxosos could not possibly imagine, but he knew it nonetheless: One minute Joliel had been right there, the two of them conversing, and the next he had politely taken his leave, then disappearing; after an impossibly short time two men had screamed and died. Now, a handful of minutes later, here he was approaching at a walk, seemingly out of nowhere.

On the ground, the gloom increased, although enough light remained in the sky to provide an adequate view. Tolalo and Naimejo were seen to drive their mounts toward the sorcerer. The three met and talked. Joliel's deferential attitude as he conversed with the priests, hands buried in his sleeves and nodding every few beats, Naxosos would have found amusing if he hadn't been so scared.

Naxosos urged the donkey forward, Naemas and Korsis at either side. "Why didn't those – whatever they are – strike at Thais and Nirith?" He wondered. "The women did come through here; I can smell them."

Laughing weakly, Korsis said, "Of course that's the first thing he says!"

"If they were here and hiding at the time, and saw them," Naemas explained, "They left the women alone." Then, in a troubled murmur: "For whatever reason…"

"Yeah," Korsis agreed. "I get no sense of anyone having been attacked." Pointing: "Look how Derecho's footprints go! Straight line, always. No other prints. No smell of blood. No –" Here Korsis's flood of speech halted and he seemed to stand for a moment in thought. Then: "The Jaras were waiting for you, Naxo." After a short pause: "They know you're with us."

(Naxosos observed that Tolalo and Naimejo had both dismounted and paced about as they conversed with the sorcerer; neither, he noticed, approached the corpses, though they glanced frequently in that direction.)

(published 16 October 2024 Wednesday)

THIS IS ALL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL

Copyright © 2024 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.

For permission contact the publisher kristiwilson156 @ gmail

Excerpt from JTPYO (see previous post) previously published - edited

My disclaimer is in the post below. I keep harping away at this because people don't realize that THEY DON'T HAVE TO READ IT and in fact I STRONGLY ENCOURAGE PEOPLE WHO ARE EASILY OFFENDED NOT TO READ IT. 

And in fact, as my disclaimer says: No one should read it! 

Have a wonderful day. xoxo 

this is not a test 

updated The Goose Girl (I haven't posted for a while; here's why) 2024 10 04

NOTE: 2024 10 05 (Saturday) I'm going to make a separate post for the excerpt from "a devil's work" because I think Blogger changed some of the stuff about uploading PDFs. 

2024 10 04: Sorry; I haven't posted for a while because I have been working on the last part of "JTPYO - King of the Waste [3] / the trap" and in particular the last part of "the trap," which excerpt I've entitled "the children's gifts." I've already published a portion of "the children's gifts" and hope to get it all fixed up in the next week or so. I don't think it'll take very long. 

Here's "the Goose Girl" from Naxosos's Lessons. In a few hours I'll come back and post underneath it the excerpt from "JTPYO - King of the Land of the Dead [3] / a devil's work" called "it isn't him!" which I've published in several versions here in the past. 

LINK TO DISCLAIMER:

Just another day in You-Know-Where (Scarlett_156's blog): My disclaimer (scarlett156.blogspot.com)

This is copyrighted material. For permission, contact the author kristiwilson156 @ gmail (4 October 2024)

From JTPYO – Naxosos's Lessons (the vineyard laborers)

The Goose-Girl

There was a girl named Rose and her parents lived by the sea on Benetetria in Pavrain. The town in which they lived was poor, though some of the houses were sturdy and fine; also, it was very isolated. The bay and waters beyond it had been fished-out for years, but the area was of interest to the military and so people continued to live and trade there.

This girl Rose kept a flock of geese, which had been something she'd been taught to do by her uncle, her mother's brother, who was now gone. Her uncle had informed her that she should never let any harm come to the geese and that she should only harvest their eggs at her family's need, and that if any of the geese were to be killed, it would only be at her father's order. Rose understood these things and obeyed. She was a great caretaker of her flock of geese and over the years it took for her to attain twelve years of age, there were many fat goslings who were sold to market or to the local militiamen or townspeople to profit her family, and eggs to feed her family when the winter winds buffeted the shores and food was scarce, with a fat goose, or several of them, to eat at solstice-time.

Now this little village town did not know God, nor of him. Some of the militiamen knew of him from their travels, but they were never in the mood to tell anyone about him. There were references to him upon some very old markers in the town cemetery, but the graves were almost never visited and when they were, no one paid attention to the markers.

Naruthi happened to be passing through the town at one point, as he had some shady business to attend to with the garrisoned men. He noticed the place was rather dull and lifeless, but people, most of them dispirited and uncommunicative, continued to live there – of course, Naruthi knew that even if all the townspeople died or moved away, the garrison and its soldiers would still be resident, so there was the explanation.

However, Naruthi happened to notice upon his perambulation through the town the goose-girl Rose. Because of his facility for perception, he noticed also that the goose-girl Rose was innocently dedicated to her flock of geese – and that she and her family were perhaps not thriving, but at least maintaining, in a place otherwise barren of any sign of success.

So, because that is what Naruthi does, he determined that he would upset Rose's world and cause disruption in the town, and then proceed to his shady dealings with the soldiers in the garrison.

Rose was driving her geese down to the shore to graze, then, as she did on most calm mornings, when she saw a handsome man giving her the eye. She was used to this, as she was a comely young girl but not a wealthy one, so she simply gazed back, and held up the flail she used to direct her geese as a subtle threat.

Naruthi said: "Nay, young lady, I wish only to take a moment of your time to tell you about God."

This stirred something in Rose's memory, though she knew not what. She answered, "Stranger, if you wish for only a moment of my time, you may have it, as long as you stay where you are and make no sudden moves."

Naruthi then informed Rose of the existence of God and taught her to say "praise God." Once he was sure she had accepted his message, he traveled on to the garrison and Rose never saw him again. She thought of Naruthi a great deal after that, but of God even more often, and was greatly disturbed thereby.

Upon successive days, it seemed that a great clamor had begun upon the island Benetetria, or at least upon its shores, for Rose heard the local residents talking about it. Then one day, when Rose released her flock of geese from their enclosure upon her parents' manor, she noticed people she didn't recognize in the streets, and that moreover the streets were full of carts and people carrying their belongings; she had a difficult time driving her flock down to the shore.

When Rose and her geese did get to their grazing-ground, she climbed a promontory and looked toward the town, and though she didn't see much, she heard an uproar. She wondered if this had something to do with the God that the handsome man had told her about – it did seem likely.

Being mindful of her uncle's advice, Rose decided not to take her geese back to her parents' manor until she knew that everything was all right in the town – this was not too much of a problem for her, as there were many grazing-places for her birds, and she was more than able to care for herself away from home and hearth – following her uncle's advice had made her very self-sufficient.

For a few days Rose and her flock stayed by the waterside, even though it was rainy and cold. There were plenty of charaberries left on the bushes on the saltwater flats, so the geese were quite content. Rose made a little fire that kept the hollow where she slept warm enough, and though she was sometimes hungry and uncomfortable, she did well. When the noise from the town started to abate, she said to herself, she would return. She worried about her mother and father, but there seemed to be little to do about it, so she continued to follow her uncle's advice. She cared for the geese and kept them from harm.

But things got worse. The noise from the town increased and now there was smoke from houses burning. Rose took her geese further out onto the salt flat; they were not as content here, but they followed her because she was their caretaker. The geese clustered around Rose when she slept and kept her warm; she dared not build even the smallest fire for fear of being noticed. She wondered if this trouble was because of the God she had been told of; also she wondered if the man who had told her about this God was the agent of all the ill she was experiencing.

One night there were sounds of conflict and flashes out on the water, and Rose became terrified. Now she collected her geese – they were also frightened – and retreated to a cove on a low jetty that she knew of, surrounded on every side except for the sea by salt marsh and, as far as Rose knew, only she was able to reach it. It was a very unhappy place and the geese also didn't like it, though one could live there for days as there was an abundance of sand crabs. Rose knew how to collect dew and rain for drinking water and so would be able to survive there for a time.

When morning came, Rose saw men in longboats out on the water. They could see her and her geese, but they could not reach them because of the shallows and the marsh. The men even shot arrows, but these were not able to reach Rose or her geese – and they couldn't retrieve their arrows – and finally they became frustrated and rowed away, shouting threats and curses. Rose was afraid and cried, and spent a very miserable day and night wondering if the men would find a way over the marsh and capture her.

Another handful of days passed. Things started to quiet down after a couple of days, and by the fourth day everything seemed almost back to normal – the sounds of conflict went away and the air cleared, and one morning Rose, now very worn and tired and hungry, woke to the sounds of birdsong, and realized that she had not heard this sound for many days, but now it had returned.

During her time of hiding, Rose had come to the conclusion that Naruthi, the handsome gentleman who had told her about God, had been the agent of all the upheaval but in a strange way that didn't have anything to do with her.

She began to feel that Naruthi had told her about God to protect her, for she doubted greatly, given the fires that had burned for days, that there was much of the village left.

She listened to the birds singing and felt the clean air on her face and, even though no one had ever taught her how to address God, she felt gladness and gave thanks to God in the same manner she would have thanked someone giving her a present for her birthday. This made her long to see her parents and her home, so she resolved to leave the salt marsh and return to her village.

Rose told the geese that she would give them a chance to take their freedom, as she was going to go and try to find out whether her parents had survived, which would involve risk, and her uncle had told her never to let any harm come to the geese. She then removed the bands from their wings so that they could take flight. She petted them and said goodbye to them, and left them stretching their wings – it seemed they were thanking God, too – at the cove, and made her way out of the marsh.

Once Rose had a view of the town, she hid for some time in a covert, watching. She saw men under guard being led through the streets with ropes around their necks and their hands tied; they were led by the local militiamen, and one or two of these prisoners wore the same uniform as the men who had shot arrows at her.

Rose still hesitated, as she had heard that even one's own soldiers may behave very badly after they have been in a fight.

Then a strange thing happened, for Rose heard a sound overhead and looked up to see her geese flying over her; upon seeing where she was, they circled, then landed in the covert and gathered around her. Rose sensed that the geese wanted to stay with her and were anxious to see their pens and food again, though if she drove them into the town it was doubtful that any of them would live much longer than it took for hungry survivors of the conflict to spot them.

But she couldn't persuade the geese to leave her and they all clustered around her until she decided that she would go to her parents' house to see how they had fared. Then all of her geese began waddling on their usual route toward Rose's house, and she followed them, wondering if she would see Naruthi again.

Rose and her flock managed to get back to the manor and, wonder of wonders, she found her mother and father there, whole and alive. Their house had taken fire but rain had put the fire out quickly, and they had been able to hide at a neighbor's farm for the worst part of the conflict. When they had come back, they had found that the local militia had vanquished the attackers and that further, the attackers had been driven from Benetetria. The manor house was somewhat damaged, but they had already hired workers to make repairs. Upon learning these things, Rose urged her parents to express their gratitude toward God, which they did, though they had never heard of him in their lives.

Everyone in the village, as it turned out, had been anxious about Rose, but her father had said to those who asked about her that he knew that she would always follow her uncle's advice, and that she was a very self-sufficient girl, and that they could and should expect her back. They were all surprised, however, that she had returned with her flock of geese intact and in a company all around her, having lost none, and that none of them had a band on its wing anymore. This was regarded as a marvel. Rose encouraged them to express gratitude toward God and, even though some of them considered it ridiculous and offensive, most of them did just on the off chance that there might be something to it.

The townspeople were hungry and so Rose and her mother and father made very good trades with them; after this, a number of townspeople started their own flocks from those animals they had purchased from Rose and not eaten straightaway. Rose ended up with only six geese left to begin a new flock, but her family now had enough money to make repairs upon their property, and Rose's father also made sure he added a substantial amount to his daughter's dowry. (After that, the young fellows in the district began to be very polite toward Rose, and to tip their hats when they chanced to see her driving her geese to the shore.)

Some years later Naruthi happened to be passing through the area on no particular business and noted that Rose was now a very successful lady married to an important man, living on an estate that was luxurious and productive, in spite of how isolated the village was. Intrigued, he wandered through the town, listening and watching and taking note of whatever he saw or heard.

The next thing Naruthi observed, then, was that the locals, though they were not ostentatiously rich or even comfortable-appearing, did not appear poor or downtrodden, either. People bustled about their business and when they would encounter one another, each would not just pass a greeting, but comment on something about the day or the other's attire, or about how peaceful everything was, or make some other observation that was friendly and positive-sounding, and then say – almost as though they were quoting a verse from an obscure text in a language unknown to them – "Praise God!" after which both parties would give a little laugh and look toward the sky, and then go on about their business.

"Drat that girl!" Naruthi exclaimed when he realized what was going on, and then traveled on down the road without taking a room, even though the next village was quite a distance.

If you have two ears, then hear.

**************

This is copyrighted material. For permission, contact the author kristiwilson156 @ gmail (4 October 2024)

Something weird 2024 04 23 (about another series that I started and worked on and then put aside LONG ago)

One thing the interweb has helped us understand is that it (the interweb) has helped many (many, many....) id10ts, freaks, and stupids turn their fantasies into reality. 

Interweb 1990: Hey! Turn your fantasies into reality right here!

Me: Um, no. I don't need any help with my fantasies. 

IW 2001: You got fantasies! Let us help you act them out!

Me: I'll pass. *goes back to working on original fiction while connected to the internet because of my stupid effing job*

Note: One piece I was working on during that time was a bizarre fantasy about a female sorceress in the year 2030. In that particular piece the sorceress time-travels (using a machine on loan from a visitor from the Earth's VERY distant future) into about the year 2130 where the world is found to be controlled by demon-possessed individuals exploiting human subjects and slaves. 

Sick street people (which includes just about everyone NOT demon-possessed) can find relief from their cares by living in a "voluntary" organ "donation" facility. (Until their last organ is harvested, of course! Then they become something else.) There are a few outlying groups of relatively free humans, but they are seen to be severely restricted also, and living in impoverished conditions.

The sorceress emerges from her time of 2030 into this future continuum onto the roof of a skyscraper in what was known in the past as New York City. She is accompanied by a large, almost indestructible and hideous monster (who in spite of its toughness is nevertheless challenged by their quest and nearly destroyed a couple of times). To get to ground, they have to battle vampires and ghouls that are endmic to Mahattan Island in this future continuum.

Her emergence attracts not only the notice of the Undead, but totalitarian fascist police patrolling the tottering city and they surround the building. (I can't remember if this was the Empire State Building but I think it was in the original.) 

The sorceress - her name is Nemali Villareal - wants to get down and away from the building without having to talk to the cops or attacked by freaks, so she instructs her monster friend to carry her down, as he's able to shimmy up and down concrete, steel, and other things without much of a problem. Due to his claws. 

They pick a route and start down and the vampires, as expected, begin attacking them as they are in a vulnerable position. There are now military forces on the pavement below and they are ranging large-caliber weapons against the building, which is a very old, leaning, untenanted-by-anything-but-pigeons-and-vampires, skyscraper. 

"They're going to shoot at us!" Nemali says to the monster - his name is long and complicated, but she calls him Kosh - and then there are missiles fired and the top part of the building is seen to begin to collapse. (Sub-note: The humor is intentional. I don't care if you like it. If you are becoming offended, I strongly urge you to keep reading to the end.) 

As giant pieces of concrete and steel begin to fall toward them, Nemali tells Kosh to jump and beat these to the ground, and then to sprint away, hoping thereby to avoid death. The monster, being very tough, cooperates and with her clinging to his shoulders they plummet toward the ground, racing with the debris (and the vampires who continue to pursue them).

Feeling a bit desparate, the sorceress calls out to her pet demon and they enter a side-world where time is suspended; they work out a bargain whereupon she and the monster will land unharmed ahead of the debris-fall and they will have time to get away. Don't ask what she has to trade in the process, although it's likely not as bad a deal as you think.

This ends up being the case and Nemali Villareal and Kosh end up escaping into the lower city - half-destroyed decades before by tsunamis and earthquakes, with the area known as Long Island having been elevated so that it's not really an island anymore. 

Meanwhile the out-of-control police/military take the opportunity to "clean out" a few more empty, leaning skyscrapers, without much regard for the consequences; as they move away there continues to be a great disturbance from uptown. 

So, there's nothing really remarkable about this - keep in mind it was written then put aside, never published, more than 20 years ago! - except for one thing; I went back years later and noticed this, when I had not before. 

The remarkable item was that I last worked on, and put a date on this part of this series (no title, but about a character "Magician Zero"), 11 August 2001 - I finished working on it on that date, which is my usual style. 

I don't claim to know what's going on here. I do tend to have predictive dreams and so on so that may have been involved. 

Have a nice day, y'all! 

("Treezy" 10 April 2024)

My disclaimer

DISCLAIMER

All of this is copyrighted material and that means you're going to ask me if you can reprint or use any of it. To date, no one has – and no one has my permission to use it, therefore.

WARNING: Please don't read if you're offended by:

• Naughty language, blasphemy, sacrilege, etc.

• Insensitive and uninhibited references to disabilities and/or differences

• Recreational drug use and alcohol abuse

• Paganism and unconventional beliefs/practices

• Homosexuality

• References to the supernatural

• People praying and saying "praise God" and so on

• References to slavery and slavery-related subjects

• Expressions of misogyny, "homophobia," and so forth

Also, do not read any of this stuff – any of "JTPYO" – to children or allow them to read it. It's not for kids. Come on, you know that! If you've let your children read this at any point in the past, you're already having problems. (Actually, no one should read it, but that's another topic for another day.)

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.

If you have made use of any of my writing – especially including past chapters, etc., from "JTPYO" that have been published in this blog – you should let me know ASAP by contacting me by email: rscribes@gmail.com. I'm not necessarily indemnifying you, but we should talk.

I deleted all my posts because most of them are really old

None of the posts from earlier in this blog have survived. This is the only one left.