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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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10 October 2024 / 20 April 2025
JTPYO – King of the Waste [3] / the trap (excerpt from "the dragon's egg")
Copyright © 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024, 2025 by Kristi A. Wilson (the first time "the trap" was published in this blog was 2017)
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.
"Salutation to you Sons of the Morning – Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law."
(Naxosos has via sorcery and luck managed to save six trapped warriors who were bringing water for the Children of God trapped in a curious formation called "Onyx Hold.". He is being carried to safety by his friends Naemas and Korsis. There is a flashback sequence. Things get confused after that.)
***
In the ordeal that followed, Naxosos recalled Naemas stopping a couple of times to groan, "I'm dropping him!" and Korsis would put his shoulder under Naxosos to hold him up as they climbed. If he hadn't been so full of pain and fear it would have been humiliating, but in fact Naxosos was relieved to feel the burning aches and soreness from the ride becoming noticeable again: Sensation was returning. A little.
Their journey up the plateau seemed to take hours, but was probably only a matter of some twenty jarring, jolting minutes more until they arrived at the summit. He remained aware, but incapable of purposeful motion. The wind now gusted steadily.
A distant melange of sounds from the valley below suggested disarray and confusion rather than pursuit with bursts of arguments and flurries of angry demands.
The fighters and their ponies got away and none of the water was lost.
Thais's camel paced at the top of the trail; Naxosos caught its odor, heard it snuffling, saw its silhouette blocking out the dim sky; sighting them, it uttered one of its peculiar sounds.
"We made it, praise God!" Korsis moaned and Naemas gasped out: "Somebody, help!…Help me carry him…the rest of the way! He's…he's throttling…me!"
A quick footstep, and then Tolalo's voice: "Is he injured?" and Naemas croaked, "He's alive," and Korsis then said, "We're not too sure about Naemas, though."
They were at the top. He heard Naimejo say, in a low voice reflecting terrible strain, "Praise all the gods." Naxosos would have chuckled if he hadn't been in so much distress.
A cold and claw-like hand that could only have been the sorcerer's took one of his arms and Korsis took his other arm; Naemas, appreciably tottering, took his legs; Naimejo then hurried up and took one leg. As they bumped on for a few dozen more feet, Naxosos wanted to tell them how painful it was to be carried in suspension this way, but he had a hard time getting his mouth to move – he could only emit a squeaking groan which prompted Naemas to rasp "We're almost there – hang on!"
"There's no pursuit," the sorcerer crowed. "No one has even tried to get a look inside the crevice yet!"
"Has he been injured?" Tolalo repeated.
"No injuries," Joliel said. "He's just tapped." (At the edge of hearing, Tolalo said, low-voiced: "And what about you, Joliel? Are you well?" to which, quite astoundingly, the sorcerer made a sober, light-voiced, short reply, "I'm tolerable.")
"Put me down," Naxosos finally mumbled. "I can walk."
"Stop moving, you bastard, you'll make us drop you!" Joliel snarled. Then, in a less-irritated tone, to someone, to Tolalo: "Old man, did you see what he did from up here? Every single one of those scum went fast asleep with their bolts still in the air. They fell right down! Dropped their spears! Haha! The fighters rode out past them and they didn't wake!"
"Everyone knows the…story," Naxosos murmured absently. No one else reacted to Joliel's blustering.
"Even now they are only just talking about whether the warriors are waiting for them in the crevice!" the sorcerer went on.
He was lowered onto a bed of cloaks. A restless, clicking-clacking sound he recognized, finally, as the freshening wind disturbing the surrounding bushes' leathery leaves. He could smell the camel but he didn't hear or see it – it seemed, having satisfied itself that he lived, to have left the scene.
"Where are the women?" he fretted. To this there was no response. Then: "Will someone please take this helmet off me? Please?" Someone, Korsis, began to fiddle at the strap: "I got you, boss; hold still."
He heard Tolalo inquiring of someone, of Naimejo, "Should it be soon, old fellow, what do you think?"
"They're not going to chase us!" Joliel interrupted. "I snuffed the wizard and his servant! No one even came to check on them after I did it, it was so fast! I'm sure they thought the alarm he started had to do with the warriors in the box; Red and Willy were pretty close to them, in fact – they used their shields to walk over the arrows! Ah, the Jaras filled the crack so, mostly with wooden darts, spears and so forth, it looked like a little forest; they wasted a good couple of tons of firewood. I cleared it! Extra effort was required, as there was poison on some of the arrows."
It took less than five minutes, Naxosos thought. And then he helped me walk out.
Naemas rasped "Don't be stupid!" and Korsis said almost at the same time "They are too going to chase us!"
"I have already started it," Naimejo said in a low voice, answering Tolalo. "Maybe the women can turn them, but it doesn't matter now. Help me or don't."
"This might take more time than we have," Tolalo fussed. As though in cynical rejoinder, a sudden gust carried a metallic tang. Rain would come.
"You…so, you killed them too?" Naxosos inquired of Joliel and the other replied quickly, "Yes, that's what I said." Naxosos remembered the smell of blood when they had been at the canyon's mouth.
Naimejo laughed, saying to Tolalo: "The rain comes, the lightning, with or without you."
Tolalo then dropped his argument and both priests could be heard to chant in a whisper.
"How did you get through?" Naxosos inquired, struggling to sit up, finally sitting up. "Joliel?" The air was unmistakably moist and in the distance was a mumble of thunder.
The sorcerer now stood beside him, grinning avidly down with his strange white face. "You should rest," he said.
Naxosos persisted: "How did you…how did you clear it…and it was full of darts?"
"Hm. Yes. Did you see how I made a way through the sand so that the people could get into Onyx Hold, Naxo? I did the same thing for the sticks the Jaraturi wasted." His smile growing wider: "Then I blocked it up again! Those sticks will be stuck there for a good long time, and when they try to enter – when finally they dare – they will know that Ta'ashni was with them." The sorcerer giggled. He then added: "If the place floods, the crevice may become blocked to all but the Children of God, or a determined team of engineers, maybe."
Korsis now drew near and held the cup that had earlier contained wine below his nose. "Here's some water, Naxo. Drink in sips."
"Are you sure he's not injured? We lost track of him," Tolalo said, stopping his chant for a moment.
They thought I was dead.
"Yes, Naxo," Naemas, trembling with exhaustion, said and braced his head so he could drink. "My brother was all but convinced." And he laughed, then said in a whisper: "Don't believe them if they tell you they're trying to cover our escape! They called the lightning to avenge you!"
"I'm not dead," Naxosos creaked as they eased him back onto the layer of cloaks, covering him with another cloak. He yawned, then was unable to stop yawning. "They can call the lightning all they want…it doesn't matter…why. Maybe…maybe we'll…drown…" Repeating: "What happened to the women? Where is…where is Thais?" All sounds were growing faint; it was reassuring that Joliel had said there was no pursuit as yet, for he was fast becoming useless baggage.
"It's possible we won't see her until we rejoin the tribe." That was Joliel.
"How did they make…that noise?" he wondered between yawns. Then: "Are we…certain no one has followed us?" and Korsis said, "Even if they did, they're probably not keen to engage us right now," and Naemas added, "Some of them probably think they're in the Land of the Dead and they're not sure what to do next!"
Quite suddenly, the priests halted their chant. "Listen!" he heard Tolalo say.
(Someone was securing him into the cloaks; he would be carried some more. I'm being swaddled! There was nothing to do about it: He could scarcely feel his arms, let alone move them.)
Joliel said: "Let's get going!"
"Listen!" Naimejo commanded.
Further conversation was hushed as angry shouts were heard reverberating around the vale below: No longer were these men who had just awakened, fumbling to make sense of things: It was an alarm. It took them long enough! and just as he thought that, he heard Korsis mutter, "Ah, there we are!" and Naemas added hoarsely "They see the rain coming, they'll probably forget about chasing anybody or trying to find anybody."
Tolalo was then heard to say, "Yes, you can see it, the weather, in the southwest, there."
There was further conversation but it all went into a tinny jumble. Naxosos tried to listen; however, he was now lying down: his pains were again receding and he was growing somewhat warmer, so there was little else to do but pass out.
As consciousness abandoned him, a drop of cold water struck his forehead.
Before he could command the resolve to brush it off, sleep caught him in its inexorable talons and bore him aloft.
***
As each member of the company lowered his face-covering, there were gasps and exclamations of shock.
The group found itself in a different location and time of day: They were no longer among the Letifet trees: They had somehow got into an area of tree removal, a couple of acres of cleared land covered with stumps, piled branches, and logs of all sizes. Seen was a little hut for the woodcutters, but no one was there: Quite a lonely sight.
Harkhim was not the exploring or adventuresome type; he tended not to wander and knew little of the outside grounds of the monastery. He now stopped his babbling prayers and cried out in fear: "Masters! Are we still at Sha-halom?"
"Yes, lad," Tolalo answered in a firm tone. "We're inside the walls. Although…the wall is barely a wall here. There might be animal trespassers." At this last, his tone was uncertain.
"Or a brigand or two," Naimejo muttered.
Wind soughed over ground raw and trodden to mud. Wurtagh Hill towered south of them, its long, saddle-like bulk silhouetted against a sullen yellow sky. (Several of the students knew it only from maps.)
Viewable orchard land sloped downhill, northwards.
Garenth, the tallest of the boys, now cried in a startled gasp, "Oh, there!"
Everyone had to stand on tiptoes to see what Garenth could see, for twilight was upon them – it had been a couple of hours past midday when they had encountered the Vostelim.
In a cluster of cypresses at the bottom of a long, gradual, wooded slope, was the monastery. It was, to the chagrin of all, perhaps three miles distant, viewable (and that scantily), by its lamp-lit tower and the torches currently being placed along its walls.
"It's going to take us hours to get back!" Naimejo wailed faintly, sounding most unlike himself.
"I'm sorry, everyone." This was Naxosos.
Tolalo said, "Let us all have a bite to eat, and perhaps a bit of wine might not be a bad idea – Naimejo, have you the wineskin?"
"Yes," the other dazedly replied.
"Let us eat and drink, and say our prayers, and then return in all haste."
"Forgive me, my brothers: Please forgive me!" Naxosos entreated; at this, Naimejo was heard to growl bad-temperedly, "Naxo, shut up!"
Each of the students and the two teachers ate whatever he had brought for this stroll through the orchards of Sha-halom, and also everyone had a few swallows of wine, which lifted the mood considerably.
Donehmit, whose snack for the trail was cake made with honey and almonds, took a couple of extra minutes to eat his treat – as he finished, licking his fingers one by one while the other boys watched in mild envy, he said: "There is a cart-track from this place to the side gate of the burial-ground – from there they drag wood to the kitchen courtyard. So if we are careful, we will not get lost." Saying this, he belched.
"This is true," Tolalo agreed. "Even if it gets dark, we'll be able to find our way."
Jaephi said in a tone meant to be joking, though it only revealed his uneasiness: "Perhaps the avehtreh will show up and transport us, just as the Vostelim did."
Elighemit said, "I don't want to see that avehtrehtl thing again." A couple of the other students murmured agreement. "Or those other things. What are they called?"
"What other things?!" Garenth inquired. Then, in a rather panicked tone: "I'm having a hard time putting my thoughts in order!"
To this, Tolalo answered quickly: "We'll talk about it when we arrive back to the abbey. Let's just try to get back in one piece."
"We encountered the Voste forest-folk and they tried to bewitch us," Harkhim said, his tone uncharacteristically stern and competent.
"They didn't just try," Naxosos muttered worriedly.
Tolalo said: "If everyone has eaten, we should pray." This task the group began with dispatch. Almost at the instant, the bell for vespers was heard, distantly, clanging at the abbey.
Prayers were quickly finished. Hoeshranel then spoke up and said, "We should run." Then, with a glance at Tolalo: "Ah, and then when we get there we can send a cart back to carry you, Father!"
"You boys," Tolalo said, taking a swallow of wine, "should run or walk as you will. Father Naimejo and I have a few things we should probably discuss before we are back among our brethren." Holding up a cautionary hand: "Stay together. Don't get so far ahead of us that we won't be able to hear your screams if a bear attacks!"
"Hoeshi," Naxosos said to the other student, "do you have your blade?" (No pupil was supposed to carry any sort of weapon, though the rules on this were not strictly enforced as large predator animals and occasionally human miscreants sometimes were encountered within the walls.)
The other, in his incongruously high-pitched voice, replied "Yes."
"You'll watch for any sign of trouble," Naxosos said. "Let's run, then. It's all downhill." In a joshing tone: "Donehmit, are you finished eating and drinking for now?"
"The voste said we would get back in time for vespers," the portly youth remarked.
"It didn't mention what day of the week it would be," Naimejo responded acidly, having regained a measure of equanimity. "Go on ahead, fellows – you may run into some laborers on the trail. If you have weapons, do not show them! Do not answer questions until all of us meet up again – we will tell you what to say!"
"Until we get our story straight," Tolalo said in a kindly tone, "just tell anyone who asks that you wandered far and lost your way – which is not a lie."
"I am very, very sorry for this, Master," Naxosos began, speaking to Tolalo, but at this point Naimejo wheeled upon him and growled "That's ENOUGH!" He composed himself a bit then and said to Naxosos: "If you get to the abbey before we do, stay where I can find you! If it takes more than five minutes for me to have you in front of the desk, you will be caned! Is it understood?"
After a moment of cowed silence, Naxosos shakily replied, "Of, of course, N-…ah, Father."
"Let us go," Hoeshranel expressed confidently. "We can run until it's completely dark and make a mile at least."
"Harkhim can conjure a light, can't you, Hark?" Naxosos inquired of the other student and Harkhim began to repeat, as he typically did, "Yes, yes, mm-hm, mm-hm, yes it will be done, mm-hm, yes…" and Naxosos added, "Not yet, but when we need it," and Harkhim answered, "Yes. He can, I can do it."
"It gets pretty dark where the trees go over the trail," Donhemit said, and Naxosos responded in an admonitory tone, "He can do it."
Then, with a burst of tipsy chattering and cries of "Go with God, Fathers!" the students took to their heels and headed down the faint track toward the primary complex.
Naimejo and Tolalo began to walk, following them. They left the woodcutters' cot and after a stadia were among trees, Sar-Ehovis that at first were saplings no more than head-high but then within another hundred yards towered on each side, arching over the trail. Their massed branches and leaves blocked out much of the light, and it was gloomy. The air smelled faintly of smoke.
Both priests knew the monastery and its grounds well, however, and they were undaunted.
"There's some wine left, isn't there?" Tolalo finally said.
"Yes – here you go."
The two began speaking in Tramrini just in case someone overheard them; almost all the students and teachers spoke Arigni and although many languages were taught at Sha-halom, the language of the fisher-folk was spoken by only a handful.
"Actually, I brought my cup." They stopped for a moment so that Naimejo could fill the leather cup, then continued, passing the cup back and forth. The track through the orchard was faint but neither had trouble following it, and broad enough that they could walk side-by-side.
"So, what do you think, old man?" Naimejo finally said. "Was that what we've been waiting for?" At this, Tolalo chuckled shortly. Naimejo said further, "For I am not certain."
"Your uncertainty means it is; that is, it was not. Not what we were waiting for. It won't fly," the old priest said, sipping carefully as he walked. "These tree-folk are not prophets. The sylph is not a prophet. They will say whatever they will, thoughtlessly, like children. Knowing that we often misunderstand their sayings gives them enjoyment." With a little laugh: "The avehtrehtl apologized to Naxosos." Here both chuckled. "Supposedly!" And they chuckled some more. "But was it sorry?" Then: "Are the Vostelim perhaps holding the avehtreh captive somewhere? And it's using us to bargain its way out?"
"Yes," Naimejo said after he laughed, his tone a bit sad. "You're right." Then: "We will have to investigate, of course, to make sure of this, of the avehtreh – or as sure as we can."
As at a sudden thought, Naimejo then blurted: "But what will others say? They may take it as evidence despite our outcries. You know that the clerics of our order are less rigorous in their logic than they were a hundred years ago. How I hate to say it, but it is so. They may call someone this or that just to get the Temple to put a target on his back."
"Sh!"
"One way or another, questions will be asked."
"Ha! Telling the boy to lie about it, however, will bring unwanted results. Or any of them; they're all good boys. Do you not see this?"
"Yes. Surely it will. They can't stay silent about it forever, of course."
After a hesitation, Tolalo said, "We must see how much of it they remember. There's a good possibility that their memories will have faded by the time they see other people."
"That's what I was thinking."
"What to do, then?"
"We will have some time to think it over this evening, I suppose."
After a thoughtful interval, Tolalo said, "Which of us do they have more affection for? You must know."
Laughing: "You, of course."
"We might debate that, but let's assume it for now."
"Very well."
The trail remained wide and more or less viewable here, so progress was steady if not rapid. Naimejo said as he handed the now-empty cup to the other, "You feel like running? I'm worried about those boys. Whoever they encounter first."
"Oh, they'll be fine." Tolalo shook the leather cup and replaced it into his scrip, and began to jog along the trail. Naimejo fell in behind him.
"Did you notice that Donhemit gave away the location of one of his caches?"
"The Vostelim gave it away, but I already knew about it," Tolalo said. "But listen."
"I'm listening."
They ran with footfalls deliberately heavy, so that anyone near the trail might hear.
"Let us tell them that we should hide the details of our encounter – not lie about it, but say simply that we encountered the voste-folk and they played one of their famous tricks on us and that we wandered and were lost for a time, and that's all. If asked for details, we know, we all know, just to fashion some outlandish thing out of thin cloth and keep repeating it."
With a snort: "You are right."
"And if we are days late getting back from our lesson, that will make it all the more believable, won't it?"
At this Naimejo laughed. They ran on.
Presently Tolalo continued: "The vosteling's prediction I feel we should not mention and we should tell them not to mention it, if any were to bring it up."
"They will be questioned."
"And they will give the usual vague, dissembling answers. They will be careful; they've all seen students get caned for this and that – even Naxosos."
"And what if they're threatened to out with the real story or suffer a caning? Personally, I can see the disciplinary team getting zealous in wanting information."
"I don't think that will happen. We may end up finding out that others among our brethren have encountered the voste and not said anything about it. More information may be gained than is covered up or lost."
"So you think it'll be easy to get these boys to keep something like that quiet?"
"They will if I beg them not to say anything because I erred in not protecting them against the voste enchantment." Here some roots crossed the trail and so they began to walk once again, but quickly. "We could say that I would be penalized in some terrible way for failing to protect the class. And, haha, you know, Naimejo, none of those boys will truly forget what he saw today, the splendor of it, until the day he dies – even if he can't remember all the details. Do you not have memories like that of your training?"
Naimejo grunted in affirmation.
Tolalo went on: "They'll feel bad thinking that I'll get in trouble over something that wonderful, and that they might lose me as a teacher – and they won't say anything."
With a dour chuckle: "That might be a lie, old man."
"Not really – it's possible that I might be chastened or even demoted if the Hierarch finds out exactly what happened. And –"
Naimejo interrupted with, "He wouldn't dare. He would lose us both to the fishers."
Tolalo went on: "And I don't know if you recall, but I was also enchanted."
"And you said something and that woke me up to the point that I could counter it."
"Yes!" Tolalo exclaimed. "So, you see? It's not a lie at all. All I could do is say 'let's get out of here,' or whatever it was that I said." Sighing: "In all truthfulness, I'm starting to forget some of it."
"If you hadn't sounded the alarm, we'd probably still be there." After some paces, Naimejo said further, "Invoking Kolicharbus is supposed to keep them from working mischief against one, although like you, I have never seen them nor expected to. I only happened to remember that."
"I don't think they wanted to hurt us as much as they wanted to see if they could capture Naxo. They might have let us go, or…hmm…"
"That is also my thinking."
"I always wanted to see voste as a boy. Mother would tell me that they used to live in these lands but left when the Celans started to arrive, because they cut down trees wherever they go," Tolalo said.
The canopy opened ahead and so the trail, tending gently downward with some runner-marks and cart-tracks on it, was easier to see. They started to trot again.
Tolalo recited in a faint, ruminating tone: "This one, Naxosos, will govern over the entire world, and never kill a single human."
"He has already killed someone," Naimejo remarked. "That woman he is seeing: Her husband will have her killed. I know him well, my father and he are acquaintances. He will not put her away. He will kill her. He might even kill Naxosos."
"Will you be the one to tell them that? Surely she knows better. So does he – like his mother and most of her family, he is very hard to persuade into virtuous behavior. I will warn him, however. He may not heed my words, but he may be more cautious." Tolalo then hawked and spat.
"If you are getting winded, we should walk."
"No, it is good to run. I haven't seen this part of the grounds in some time."
After some hesitation, Tolalo inquired, "Have you seen Naemas in the last year or so?"
"He's with the Children of God."
After a few more minutes of jogging it became too dark to run, and there were moreover ungathered Sar-Ehovi nuts lying on the path that might cause a crippling fall, and so they slowed their pace to a quick walk. Once, when the roof of leaves and branches opened above them, Tolalo glanced at the sky and said, "There are the stars. Can you tell if this is still the same day we left, Naimejo? I confess to some doubt and my eyes aren't what they used to be."
"I'm fairly certain it's the same day. Do you remember that when we left this morning, the reference scroll in the main alcove said moonrise would occur two-and-three-quarters hours after sunrise and moonset about an hour to midnight. Clearly this is the hour of sunset, and where is our moon?" He stopped walking and Tolalo also stopped, and turned to look upwards. "It should be right about…there."
Naimejo pointed to a cloud-shrouded crescent in the western sky: "And there it is. Right phase, right angle."
They started walking again.
"Yes – I hope you're correct and that we're not a year late getting back from our perambulation. It seems to have rained, when none was predicted."
"If we're a day late, we need to get our stories straight. Even more so if it's a year."
"Indeed." Tolalo then returned to the previous subject, saying, "But, anyway, old fellow, what do you think?"
"You mean your…alibi, or whatever it is?"
"Ah, yes; My plan. My excuse. Or, as you call it, alibi."
"It might work, but we'll have to get the details worked out before we see Naxo again. If he gets to the dormitory before we get there, you know he'll have his nose in a manuscript in spite of what I told him. Someone will see him and figure things out."
"Indeed," Tolalo said. "And in any case we'll need to return, as you said, to that part of the orchard and make an investigation before many more days pass."
"Yes," Naimejo agreed. "A good excuse for that will be needed, and a distraction for the students." They walked on.
A short time later, Tolalo said, "We should, somehow…" He then stopped speaking.
Naimejo prompted: "Somehow what?" and Tolalo then said, "We should try – gently, of course – to keep him from becoming greater in sorcery."
At this, Naimejo seemed to hesitate, until Tolalo added, "For now. Not permanently. Just for now."
"Yes," Naimejo responded instantly. Then: "Ah, should we send him home, do you think? He's only been here for two weeks, his mother wants for him to –"
"No," Tolalo said. "I want for him to be where I can easily find him."
Naimejo ruminated upon this for a short time, then said, "I hope no one has overheard us who understands Tramrini."
"Let us avoid discussion for the time being."
"Even so."
With these ideas in mind, the two picked up their pace while the night came on and plangia birds began to make their soft, mournful-sounding calls.
***
The first thing Naxosos heard upon awakening was Nirith laughing and not her customary muted giggle, but a raucous squawk as though someone – someone known and appreciated – had pinched her bottom.
Sound had a brittle, echoing, cave-like quality to it.
Not a cave; feel the wind!
Heat radiated from every side, however, and the surface beneath him was warm; moreover, he was swathed in coverings. Only his head was sticking out. He felt it, though, the heat, as in a dream where you touch fire and it doesn't burn: He was cold to the point of shivering.
How long have I been asleep?!
With effort he managed to open his stuck-shut eyes and immediately closed them. Laboredly, he managed to work one arm out of his blankets to throw across his face; it blocked out further light but did nothing to ameliorate the dancing black spots and brilliant spangles that lasted for many seconds.
Blessedly it wasn't shining directly on him: Sunlight coming in from overhead seared, nonetheless, causing pain.
The sand- and ash-mantled surface upon which he lay nested was firm in this what seemed to be partial enclosure, rock above and below; he perceived nonetheless that he was, the company was, far from the ground. Maybe it was the way the wind was blowing through that suggested a height.
Then, arriving like a startling dream that jolts one into wakefulness: Joliel killed those men! He scalped them. He PITCHED them. Their bones broke like so much crockery when they hit the ground!
In a sudden, wild panic he sat up.
The world lurched, then his gut, and everything started to spin. Keep eyes open.
He couldn't, though, and closed them again. His face went numb and then everything else went numb. Oh, no!
In another second he would slump back into his bed, and be unable to rise again.
Despite the heat he was wracked with chills and shaken with tremors, especially in his sides and gut; his hands and feet were distant. His groin ached as though he'd been kicked. His stomach griped and his airway was dust-clogged. The light forced him to keep his eyes closed.
"Help," he finally managed to say in a choked whimper. Trying once more after an effort to clear his throat: "Help…help…"
"Ah," he heard Tolalo say, "he's really awake now. Let's offer him water."
Someone knelt quickly and Thais was beside him and he smelled her, new leaves and grass. (Also she was remarkably damp with sweat.) "Are you with us, dearest King?" she said.
With both arms out now, he clutched at her waist and her arms went around him. How good it was to know she was unharmed. Thank you, Father. Thank you! Oh, thank you!
"I was so worried!" he wailed into the bodice of her dress. Her arms tightened. She kissed the top of his head and laid her cheek next to his.
Close to tears she cried out: "We're safe! The people got their water; none of the fighters was hurt, nor the horses, nor the poor donkeys. We lost no more cattle; the tribe left the Hold and went to Kahechi Latho and they will soon venture to another camp if they have not already, and you! You, you're…" A sob stopped her speech; after a moment she said: "You're all right, praise God!" (It did sound as though she had expected to find him otherwise. Praise God, indeed…)
A muted shout went up: "Praise God!"
"You are bold and brave, Naxosos!" she whispered fiercely into his ear. (He wanted to ask her where Joliel was, but at the last instant decided not to.)
Tolalo said then: "We are more than glad." His voice was a bit further away. "We shouldn't get too riotous about it, however."
"I'm sure they've heard us." This was Korsis. "They'll get closer anyway." Then, knowledgeably: "The mission is to see what happened to their bowmen. If they get scared and run off, and try to make up a story, their magician, or someone, will know."
"Their magician is dead!" This was Naimejo, who sounded drunk. (Where is Joliel? Naxosos wondered.)
Tolalo said, "If there's too much noise, they'll arrive during the dark hours!"
The echoes of their voices were sharp, not sustained – it wasn't a cave, but they were enclosed in rock and the enclosure was not complete, as the wind gusted through; Naxosos's impression was that of ribs sustaining a friable shell, no longer of a piece.
As shaky as he was, he felt a strong, perhaps urgent, compulsion to stand. His voice was like a feeble old man's when he cried out, "Praise God and…ooof!…serve him…all! I want to get, I want to – let me get up!" Weakly thrashing, he tried to free his legs. "Now, Thais, don't stop me!"
"Praise God and serve him! We won't! But have some water, Lord," Thais said. "You haven't had a thing to eat or drink in more than a day." At her prompting, he stilled.
A gourd touched his lips. Though warmish, its water was a benison. "Don't gulp!" Thais advised. "Sip. Sip!"
The Goddess-on-Earth then said, "He must take a good look around before he moves about; this, where we are now, it is a much different thing."
The scream of light that had foiled his first attempt to view his surroundings now made him shield his eyes again. No one said much of anything during this interval; there was the sound of a jar being passed.
When finally he lowered his arm, a careful glance around made him wonder greatly. "I know where we are," he stated, his voice coming out in a harsh whisper. "Let me stand up."
"I wouldn't dare to stop you," she answered, though the tone in which this was uttered made him think of further embraces, rather than trying to stand. (Nothing to be done about that now!)
The Goddess-on-Earth steadied him as he battled to raise himself. "Where is…Naemas?" he croaked.
From a short distance away: "I'm here!"
"Naemas was sleeping until an hour ago," Nirith explained, with a little hiccup. She was also just a few paces distant and smelled less like scented oil today, and more like wine and perspiration. (Naemas, meanwhile, said in reply to her, "I think I'm still sleeping, in fact," and both laughed.)
The more he thought about what he was trying to do (Stand up, stand up…), the less he wobbled. Sensation was creeping back. Breathing was still hard.
Struggling onto all fours, then slowly, shakily with his feet beneath him, Thais's hand on his elbow, Naxosos managed to see a little of where he was, although how he and his company had gotten there was a blinding mystery.
Here was the group that had set out from Onyx Hold: He saw, blurrily, Naemas and Korsis, Thais and Nirith, Naimejo and Tolalo. Two of the warriors of Thais were present as well – he smelled more than saw them, they were at the opposite end of the enclosure in deep shade, and the scintillating light-curtain blocked the view.
The sorcerer Joliel was perceptible by his odor. (Why can't I see him? A goat-pen is roomier than this place, yet he's nowhere in sight.)
Everyone was sweaty. Each man was without his shirt; Naxosos discovered now with slight astonishment that he, too, was shirtless.
Tolalo and Naimejo stood, their backs to him and the rest of the cohort, in seeming discussion at the sill of a large, window-like opening of this recess; through this came some light and gusts that did little to quell the heat.
I will not sway nor will I collapse.
"You're all right!" Thais whispered. "Slowly! Slowly!"
Tolalo was now by a few degrees more gaunt and weathered after being on the desert over these many months. (It didn't, strange to note, make him appear older, however – Naxosos's first memory of him was of a cheerful old man with a long gray beard; in that he was unnoticeably changed.)
Sweat rolled down Naimejo's muscled brown back; his long, curly black mane dripped; his damp muslin breeches showed to good effect the formidable cleft of his buttocks. Naxosos looked away. (Thankfully, the light-beam – through a crack, he was now able to observe, extending from just below the rock rib at the dome's meridian down the west wall almost to the enclosure's floor – blocked most of the view.)
(Joliel threw them. THREW them.) Furtively he glanced about, but saw no sign of the other.
It was odd to see the priests facing away now: in apparent conversation, as though his awakening after many hours of unconsciousness was of little note. (He then remembered how Tolalo had been there the instant he had begun to wake, advising that he be given water.)
This in turn reminded him of a couple of times – at least a couple – during his childhood that he had roused from a haze of illness and heard the voice of his old friend: Ah, he's awake. Here he is, that rascal! Trying to get a few more winks while we sit here worrying! I see you, Naxosos! It's no use to pretend!
Two of Thais's warriors, Stanilomaxinon and Terenorint – Speck and New Guy he called them – sat in shade at the far end of the recess; the giant men also wore only their boots, belts, and linen breeches without their usual hide over-garments. This also was surprising to see. (And, as always, their hairlessness was disturbing.) He wondered when and how they had got here, where the others were, and where their horses were.
Naemas (Nirith lounging upon his knees) wore no shirt and was sweaty, but this was his customary state.
Korsis sat on his heels nearby, just out of range of the light-curtain, at some task that occupied his attention. The dancer's black, curly locks were bound up, too, and his pale limbs and back shone.
Naxosos's perception that they were upon a height seemed accurate: From the light and the air, and the sounds and dust, the cohort was to all appearances bivouacked within the recess where Jaraturi archers (Joliel killed them) had lurked and, from three hundred yards up and two hundred yards out, meant to shoot them: An egg-shaped hollow, ribbed in rock, at the top of one of the Spires, shaped and molded by wind-blown sand.
The tangle of coverings at his feet was in the deepest, most sheltered part of the "egg," where tool hatchmarks and smoke stains on the walls and ceiling suggested human use over time.
The fissure in the ceiling, running from the top of the arch to three-quarters of the way down the west-facing wall, lit the small space ably, at least in this hour.
That opening is how he got in. Then, looking at the east-facing portal where Naimejo and Tolalo stood: They were thrown with such force, from the ground it appeared they were flying. (At that moment, each of these glanced over his shoulder at him – but then they quickly resumed their conversation.)
The recurring image of the sailing bodies with their robes violently flapping was salt to the wound of his consciousness newly awakened. (Why was I brought here?)
The one man hadn't been entirely dead, Naxosos recalled, and had shrieked upon being flung from the aperture.
This niche was barely big enough for this company all to sit; nonetheless seats and bedding, water and food, were arranged. Its riven ceiling, he saw, arched enough at its apex for the warriors to stand upright.
Presently, both the great men were trying to stay out of everyone's way and possibly out of the sight of any earthbound observer, crouched half-naked upon camp-stools, their necks and shoulders bent, in the darkest part of the recess, where they shared a wine-jar, leering at the women. (How did they get here and when? What happened to the animals? How did all this stuff get here? Who brought wine?)
Naemas, he determined, was the main source of wine-reek; he occupied a pillowed hassock just this side of the light-shaft, where there was something like a fireplace on the ribbed floor; Nirith sprawled across his lap with her arms about his neck. They were dramatically silhouetted against the blue-white cataract that streamed through the crack in the ceiling. Their expressions and attitudes were those of great jollity and it was almost, he considered, like one of those bawdy pantomimes one would sometimes see at a Kheorani night-market.
Naxosos found he was glad that they were not fighting.
Speck, New Guy, and Nirith shared the jar; Naemas drank from a costly-appearing silver goblet.
(Where is Joliel?)
At their feet, Korsis sipped from a silver-chased horn; now that Naxosos could see him better, he seemed involved in close study of a set of arrows and a quiver.
He noticed at this time that he had on a pair of rather nice, shin-length breeches of some weighty blue material; he wore also his belt and boots, though his boots were almost completely unlaced and dragging at his heels. He wondered dimly why there wasn't sand all over him, and glanced back to see that sleeping, he had been enwrapped by so many cloaks and blankets, his bed had almost the appearance of a cocoon.
Why don't I see Joliel? I smell him, but I don't –
Naemas captured his attention by waving. "I can't get up!" he proclaimed drunkenly. "My legs are…" here he belched "broken! Because Nirith…has sat on them!"
The two warriors snickered as if at a choice riposte: Now that he could see them, Naxosos observed they showed signs of hours of drinking, too, and moreover that both seemed to be appreciating, and that keenly, the spectacle of the nearly-nude, sweat-drenched women, one of whom currently lolled upon Naemas's lap, the other helping him (Naxosos sovereign of the Children of God), with a light hold upon his elbow, to stay on his feet.
Naxosos made an effort to speak up now and said, his voice emerging in a croak almost unrecognizable to him: "This is where the Jaraturi archers were." (Saying this as he thought about it, and looked at the place where it had happened, made him feel a bit sick.) "Isn't it?"
"Correct," Tolalo replied, turning. "It's actually an easy walk up the side of this thing, if you can believe it!" in response to which Korsis quietly intoned, "You didn't have to carry Naxo, did you?"
Tolalo and Naimejo were at the east-facing vantage of the recess, an opening in the rock with an edge all around scoured thin by wind-driven sand – and perhaps some intervention by men with hammers.
The sill appeared shell-thin and blade-sharp; he hesitated to get near it. There was enough space for several people standing close together to get a view of whatever lay outside, likely the eastern Pass and the flat, hard-baked Reach – from where he was, Naxosos could see only the Spires' inner curve extending into the north and east.
(One cried out. He threw them with force. They sailed through the air.)
"So," Tolalo said, "come here, Naxo, and take a look!"
"Let go of me, my dear," he said to the Goddess-on-Earth and she did so, but followed him step for step.
(The worn edge of the aperture was, upon closer viewing, thinned to translucency in a couple of spots and, by appearance, sharp. I'm going to dream about this later, he considered with a premonition of horror.)
On dead-feeling feet Naxosos, tottering, managed the short distance between himself and the two priests, and looked down as commanded, though he closed his eyes at first.
Then he opened his eyes.
Most of his life had been lived upon the brink of one of Viragos's most famous cliffs, where looking down from a height was a daily experience, but since the Hierarch's visit he would never again see the ground from a distance of more than a dozen feet without at least a few moments of heart-racing terror.
The floor of Onyx Pass was, as he had imagined, hundreds of yards below and now he became very aware that there was little more than a flimsy shell groaning under a load of people, gear, and sand beneath him.
Finally I'm sweating! was his distracted thought before crying out: "Oh, shit!" Naxosos had to close his eyes; his stomach knotted and he reeled back and would have fallen had Thais not caught him. "I have you!" she repeated.
"Watch out!" Korsis griped, as Naxosos had almost staggered into the pile of arrows he was sorting. "Some of these have poison on 'em!"
"Nice to see you, too, Korsis," Naxosos muttered, managing once more to open his eyes.
"You're all right," Thais whispered.
"I'm glad to see you, Naxo. Praise God," Korsis replied, without looking up. "We were so worried!" Naemas laughed and in a tone of emotionless comicality Korsis then said, "Yes."
"From this little spot here," Tolalo said, "the Jaraturi archers planned to kill us. Except for you. They would likely have left you alive."
Where is he? Where the deuce is he? Naxosos wondered, thinking about Joliel. He didn't want to risk turning his head too much because he continued to be dizzy. "Yes," he replied abstractedly, "Joliel explained that to me while we were en route. It seems like rather long shooting." Maybe they'll tell me where he is now…
"It is not at all long," the warrior Speck commented; the other warrior chuckled. (He noted that after a moment, Thais chuckled, too.)
"Not for you, I suppose!" Naxosos jested.
The giant then said in a low voice, "We are glad to see our King, that he is well," and the other fighter murmured "We are glad."
He was about to speak again, when: "So, you fear to see what your playing at war has cost you thus far?" This was Naimejo: arch, disdainful, angry (and drunk). He pointed out the aperture to the floor of the Pass.
At first Naxosos didn't understand, supposing it to be a further attempt to gain mirth from his reaction, but the other's face reflected little humor.
I've missed something.
"If you would unhand me, Thais, I'm sorry," he said to the Goddess-on-Earth, who, when she released his elbow, said to Nirith, "He's icy!" and Nirith replied with "Mm-hm – I can feel it from here!" (At this Naemas pretended offense, and jibed, "Who are you feeling now and why?" which drew rude laughter from Korsis and the warriors, and the Second squealed as though at the funniest joke she had ever heard.)
Obediently, then, Naxosos returned to the vantage with Thais a pace or so behind.
After a couple of slow breaths, felt able to look, so pulling his gaze away from the toes of his boots, he did. I will not fall.
They were hard to spot at first given the distance and increasing shadows, and that the wind had covered them with dust, but at last Naxosos recognized the contorted frames of the Jaraturi archers Joliel had killed, some sixty yards to the east and north of the tower's foot.
With such force that they sailed. All that way they flew through the air.
And they had been thrown not only with great force, but precision – the two dead men lay almost one upon the other, separated by less than a foot of sand.
It would be a trick, he thought, for even an experienced scout to tell exactly how they had met their ends – they were far from the base of the Spire, too far to have fallen. (Playing at war.) Had they fallen from the sky? Had a giant picked them up and slammed them with force against the hard-packed ground?
The dead he had seen, of course – mostly those who had died during epidemics, and a couple of executions. He had seen people die at Dargana Sud. His lover Vine had been murdered, though he had not seen her corpse or known what had happened to her until much later – just before he had gone into the desert, he now recalled, was when he had been told.
Gazing upon the bodies – one's garment flapped suddenly in a gust, which gave him an uncomfortable start – Naxosos replied to Naimejo's taunt, "You criticize me, Mujo? For what? You answered a call to service and came on this trip the same as I. None of it was my idea; I only did my best and, as it turned out, my best was more than enough!"
(At this the other's lip curled and nostrils flared, but he made no answer. Of course, he would be thinking that their escape was due mostly to his and Tolalo's weather trick.)
Naxosos went on: "I would not have killed those men, but that is neither here nor there. If the archmage had asked me what to do, I would have told him to stop their weapons."
On the heels of this pronouncement, Naemas said with a sigh, "They would have followed us for miles through the lowland and Joliel would have had to kill them at some point anyway, so with all respect, Naxo: Shut up!" (Thais then murmured, "He's right, darling.")
"Those two sand fleas would have killed us all, everyone except you," Korsis muttered from his place on the floor. "They would have taken you to the South Water and used you to try to influence that situation, and things would've only gotten more interesting after that!" and Naimejo said almost at the same time "And what would you have done, then?" and "Here we are rifling through their belongings," Tolalo commented acerbically, eliciting a contemptuous snort from Naimejo.
"There's a lot of people's stuff here," Naemas added to that.
"You're wearing a dead man's clothing," Naimejo said.
With a final, poorly-concealed shudder, Naxosos backed away from the aperture and wheeled on Naimejo, trying to make himself taller (to no avail, though it did feel good not to have the helmet on his head anymore) and said, "I distinctly remember, before I passed out, you were calling the lightning. So you could kill men!" It took him only one or two seconds to steady himself after this.
"Not true!" Naimejo growled.
Tolalo spoke up quickly: "It aided our escape, that is all. In fact, I doubt any Jaraturi were killed!"
"I doubt that is entirely the case," Naxosos goaded. Wherever could Joliel be? Why can't I see him? Why doesn't he speak? (Interestingly, the more he wondered, he found, the less he wanted to ask aloud.)
Korsis stood now, carefully brushing the knees and seat of his breeches (switching hands with his drinking-horn in order to achieve this). "It was a hell of a time, Naxo," he said, in a somber, authoritative (drunk) tone Naxosos had heard him employ only once or twice in all the months of their acquaintance, "getting out of that spot. The priests made the difference But it was something, getting out. I think if we hadn't known the storm was by magic, we would've been overwhelmed."
"You could have died," Naemas said and Nirith affirmed "Yes."
Naimejo said: "Would it have been all right with you, knowing that you were going to lose your life so that a collection of vile beggars, desert raiders – marauding scum! – could sell your head, then?" (From the sound of his voice, Naimejo was getting bored and wished he had never brought the subject up.)
Tolalo said, "There is little use in arguing over the matter. It's done."
"A spear-throwing contest is not playing at war, Naimejo," Naxosos grumbled. ("Vile beggars," says the priest! At this he had to struggle not to laugh.) "And besides, you know the Steward has been after me since before I was even born! That's why –"
"You will, Naxo and Naimejo, stop bickering this instant!" Tolalo snapped. "Even under ideal circumstances, there will always be something that, in retrospect, one could have done more efficiently."
A startling thought presented itself: If the archers had simply killed Nirith and Thais (although truth be told, that wouldn't have been simple at all), capturing him would have been so much easier. Why didn't they try at least to shoot at the women to delay or confuse them?
Thereupon came another, even more surprising thought: That is what I would have done! Then: Would I? Would I have done it…?
He tried to think of what Thais and Nirith had looked like to the desert men, from this perch high in the air, then realized that the archers would not have been where they were if they had not known the players and prizes involved.
It would depend upon why I was there in the first place. Then: They let the women go on so that we would believe there was no threat!
As had been reported: The desert men had behaved most atypically. And it had been all about him.
Naemas said, "For most of the way here you were tied to Derecho, except for going down the Ukkimara, it was me and Korsis carrying you because the donkeys were slipping and sliding." With a dramatic wave of his hand: "And there was flooding. Let's not mention the flood!" (At this, Nirith muttered as she sipped from the jar, "Let's not," and then Thais, who continued to stand close enough to Naxosos that she could catch him if he started to fall, said in a very low voice "And therefore we will mention it only three times!" and the two giggled briefly.)
"By the time the first drops were falling on us," Korsis grunted, "it had been raining on the heights for a good ten minutes, and the storm moving toward us. The priests would have wasted a lot of time trying to stop it."
"True," Thais said.
"And the flooding was already a done deal," Naemas said and again Nirith agreed with him: "Yes! The vale was rushing with streams before the rain had been falling for even a couple of minutes – the Jaras were quite upset by it! Their horses were frantic!"
"That was before we had got to the bottom of the plateau," Korsis added.
"The donkeys didn't fall, but I did!!" Tolalo chortled then and Naimejo grumbled, "Several times!" and then: "It was a shit show."
"The river bed didn't flood," Tolalo added, "the rain soaked in. But there was quicksand all along its western banks." Now the old priest seated himself on a low bench next to the warrior Terenorint, gesturing to the other that he should hand over the jar. "It was not surprising to hear that there's water in the oasis now."
(Those bowmen didn't bring all this stuff here, only some of it is theirs… Naxosos recognized gear brought from the tribe's encampment, but there were also boxes and jars and piles of things including weapons and shields. It didn't have the look or feel of a Children's Cache, however. He would have to ask about it later.)
"It must've been a deluge through the South Water, though!" Naemas said, continuing his rambling speech. Squinting wryly at Naxosos, he said, "You did right: The warriors would've had considerable trouble getting out any other way."
(Here Naxosos discovered with unease that he'd gazed overlong at Nirith being affectionate toward Naemas as she perched upon his knee; she stroked his cheek, whispered to him, plucked at his beard and so on: Noticing this, the other grinned pointedly. Naxosos looked away.)
(end of excerpt)
(20 April 2025)
