JTPYO – King of the Waste [2] / contest (excerpt: these silly people)
Ten throws apiece later, the group stood almost the former distance from the targets, with quite a mob of people watching them and another two canopies set up, and a great deal of drinking, quarreling, and betting going on. Naxosos was quite pleased with himself, as out of ten casts he had only thrown short once and overthrown once. The Beretonners had grown more silent and determined to make a good showing, though they were still only really competing with one another. There was certainly less nudging and smirking.
Naxosos and Naemas were now only wearing breeches and boots. Naemas, of course, was tall and handsome, and did not feel self-conscious without a shirt on, and the watching girls would give little screams when he threw. Naxosos felt he in particular looked like a little speckled, brown, hairy monkey compared to the other men. (The girls also screamed when he threw, but he imagined they were likely just being polite.) Everyone seemed to understand that the king and his best friend were being helped by sorcery, but it just made them more excited, and the betting seemed also to become more frenetic thereby.
Naemas said his arm was getting sore and he wanted to sit out for a few casts; Korsis humorously offered to take his place and made the Beretonners, then the other spectators, roar with laughter at a number of theatrically pitiful, girlish throws. (Korsis was actually quite good at javelins – that is, regular human-sized javelins and targets that could be seen without squinting.)
Naxosos could not resist the urge to drink some wine and subsequently made a very short cast that went end-over-end then rolled away. This caused a fearful hush to fall on everyone present, as it seemed to them (he realized, as he retrieved the javelin himself from the searing rocks) he might grow angry.
"I'm fine, everyone," he said as he walked back and there was a collective murmur of relief. His bad cast had affected the odds-making, he observed, as all those making bets either displayed dismay or glee as they scrambled to re-order their chits.
"If the Steward made a throw that bad, he would have five courtiers executed even if they didn't so much as grin," Tolalo said. Sitting on a folding chair in the deep shade of a giant shell-shaped monolith, the two giggling young women attending him, the elderly monk, his teacher, seemed to be having the time of his life.
Squatting on the ground next to him, Naxosos laughed, "He's so far away, and yet we speak of him."
"You're right, I'm exaggerating: He'd likely only kill two or maybe three."
One of the girls held a wine jar out to Naxosos and he drank. She was giving him the eye, and giggled and pulled her neck-scarf in front of her face when he observed her doing so. Tolalo tutted her disapprovingly and the other girl giggled, too.
"What do they like about me?" he said to Tolalo, speaking Aringene so the girls would not understand them, "I must stink worse than the camel. My back is completely blistered now. My hair is sticking straight up, in spite of how much I'm sweating."
"You cut a very imposing figure, Naxo, and you were never puny. Being outdoors has helped you greatly. You no longer stoop and cavil like a scribe at a new posting. Living among the fishers gave you muscles like a slave's."
"Only among these silly people do I cut an imposing figure, I imagine. I'll probably look and behave a lot more scribe-like once we're back in the city."
"And of course," Tolalo said, taking a drink and squinting ruminatively at the horizon, "at least these silly people don't care what you smell like."
As he took another swig of wine, something touched his naked back. He realized with shock it was a naked tit, and turned around angrily to see one of the girls simpering at him as she covered herself back up.
"Naxo, don't be mad," Tolalo advised. "They're only being friendly. They're always doing that to me. I'll admit they're too forward; they look right at you and show you their ankle. It's disturbing when they do it in the bath."
"They do it when you're in the…"
"You intruded on their little haven," the elderly priest went on in his chuckling voice, "or did you forget?"
"No, Father," Naxosos replied hurriedly. "I haven't forgotten!"
A youth approached. "Naxosos King," he said.
"Speak."
"Will you cast again? If you do not, Terenorint is the winner."
Tolalo chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "I thought it would be him."
"Bet against me, did you, old man?" Naxosos said, rising.
Naemas had been sitting near Joliel under the canopy, and now there were other people, many, almost the entire tribe including priests, assembled to watch the javelin-throwing, and more canopies set up to accommodate them. Naemas rose, too, rubbing his arm and saying he would like to throw again. The babble of voices as people bet and argued was starting to grow loud.
Hearing a donkey bray, he looked to see a small train of animals approaching up the rise from the main camp. The Goddess's attendants were bringing party supplies, it looked like.
"Are you returning for more humiliation?" Willy joked as Naxosos took his javelin from the rack; Naxosos detected a measure of kindly regard in this taunt and rejoiced that his plan seemed to have worked.
"I am suggesting spears at the present distance," Speck said. "And winner take all."
"Spears, huh?" Naxosos made his face into a disappointed expression, although he had expected and wanted something of the sort.
Excerpt JTPYO – king of the waste [2] / contest 2026 03 04 (Wednesday)
