“They are offering fine silk textile, tea leaves and a sack of rice, over there,” Goll interpreted.
“That is acceptable,” Greeter of Friends said.
“We could all use nice new clothes,” Rhuna remarked, imaging herself wearing the embroidered red silk.
“And this new white grain called rice will be a nice change from what we’ve been eating,” Aradin added.
Rhuna returned to the main house with Aradin, Goll and Greeter of Friends, eager to share the good report of their successful first trade with guests.
“Goll already knew what to say, and he could communicate with the Ling-Yu people fluently!” Rhuna gushed.
“Your knowledge shall be most valuable in this enterprise,” Protector of Remembrance remarked, smiling respectfully at the pale-skinned scribe.
“It is an exciting challenge for me,” Goll replied.
“And now we cook for six more people, eh?” Kiana called from the food preparation area. Damell and Tozar quickly stepped forward to help Kiana, and Stillness of the Lake walked into the adjoining storage room to retrieve extra food bowls and plates.
“These must first be washed,” the Atlan woman observed.
Rhuna quickly offered to wash the bowls and plates, and she took them to the washing area with light and easy steps. She noticed that Shandi had followed her and stood nearby as she used the pump to retrieve water from the underground well.
“Sula-tana, Sula-tana,” the young girl chanted.
Only a few days had passed after the first visitors departed when a long caravan appeared in front of the main windows of the inn.
“Quick, tell Goll that new guests are arriving!” Aradin called out.
“We Atlans shall remain in these buildings preparing food while those of you who do not appear Atlan meet and converse with the guests,” Protector of Remembrance quickly said. “We do not wish to arouse too much suspicion.”
In the excitement of settling into their large new home and learning to run an establishment, Rhuna had almost forgotten the terrible danger to Atlans in the proximity of the Black City.
“We shall accompany you and Goll,” Mohandu stated as he and Yarqi walked towards the main door. Together they followed Goll outside and down the paved path to the holding pen and lodging house.
“Welcome!” Goll called when he was ten paces away from the visitors. He repeated the welcome greeting in several other languages.
Two of the visitors came forward while the others tended to their camels.
“We speak the Atlan language,” said one of the men after they had conversed with Goll. “We heard much talk in the Black City about new innkeepers here,” the man added.
Rhuna looked at the men with brown skin and black beards, trying to determine their origin. They each wore a coloured cloth wrapped around their head, and their garments were sewn in a fashion Rhuna had never seen before.
“Here, look!” said one of the men when their goods had been unloaded from the camels. “What do you want in exchange for house and food?”
Rhuna and Aradin consulted with Mohandu, Yarqi and Goll as they determined which supplies were most important to their new business, and when the guests readily agreed to the trade, Rhuna felt elated once again.
They took the sack of food supplies and the bundle of textiles, and then returned to the main house.
“You have good drink?” asked one of the guests who had followed them. Rhuna spun around and saw that all seven men with coloured headwraps and black beards were walking behind them towards the main house.
“Do you mean intoxicating beverages?” Aradin asked with slight apprehension.
“Of course!” laughed several of the men in unison.
“We regret not yet, as we have only arrived here in recent days,” Mohandu said with a shaky wobble of his head.
“We bring our own,” said one of the men holding up an earthenware bottle with a large cork.
The men stopped at the paved terrace area where they sat down in the shade of one of the trees. “You have drinking cups?”
“Yes, yes,” Yarqi said, eager to please as she dashed inside the main room to find the drinking vessels.
“They speak the Atlan language, but with a strange accent,” Aradin reported to the Atlan representatives who had gathered in the back of the main building. “They brought intoxicating beverages.”
“Give them what they desire,” Protector of Remembrance instructed. “Tired and travel-weary men wish to be indulged.”
Rhuna and Aradin sat in the main room near the windows where they could observe their guests and tend to any requests. Behind them, Lozira and Stillness of the Lake had prepared some simple meals and snacks made from dates, nuts and seeds. The visitors cheered when Rhuna and Yarqi carried the food plates out to them, expressing their delight in both Atlan and native languages.
“You can entertain us?” asked one of the black-bearded men.
“With this,” said another man, pulling out a small, short-necked stringed instrument from the textile sack he had carried on his back.
Rhuna looked briefly at the unusual instrument and decided that it was similar to the vuda which she had learned to play when she was a young woman living in the City of Atlán.
“Yes, I can play some melodies for you,” Rhuna offered.
“Not you,” said one of the men gruffly. “Her. The young one with yellow hair!”
Rhuna was shocked that the men had glimpsed Lozira and spoke of her in a slightly threatening manner.
“You there, come here!” shouted another of the men, laughing from slight intoxication.
Rhuna turned around and beckoned Lozira to come out onto the terrace.
“Entertain us!” called the men.
Lozira looked uncertainly at Rhuna and Aradin, wide-eyed with apprehension.
“Play music,” said the man holding the instrument.
Rhuna took the instrument and handed it to Lozira.
“You can play some melodies, like the vuda,” she encouraged her daughter. “We will sit here with you,” she added.
Lozira obediently sat down on a cushion on the edge of the patio, and Rhuna sat with Aradin nearby, giving Lozira a smile of encouragement.
“I can only play simple tunes,” she told the visitors apologetically.
“Play, sing and entertain us!” they called, cheering her on with good-natured laughter.
After plucking the strings to identify the notes, Lozira began to strum a simple rhythm. Rhuna recognized the child-like tune and waited for Lozira to begin singing the popular Atlan ballad. She watched the brown-faced men react to her daughter’s voice with sheer pleasure and delight, grinning broadly as they listened to the entire song.
“What a sweet and enchanting sound!”
“More! Sing more!”
“Dance for us!”
Lozira blushed vividly and looked to Rhuna and Aradin for advice.
“Keep singing,” Rhuna said encouragingly.
Lozira chose a similar ballad with a distinctive rhythm, and as she began to strum the strings of her instrument, a percussion sound accompanied her. Everyone looked around in surprise to see Mohandu sitting in front of three empty cooking pots, tapping his fingers and palms on the base to create an unusual but pleasant drumming sound.
“Excellent, excellent!” called the men.
“We have many drums in our music,” said another as he lifted his drinking vessel to take a deep gulp of intoxicating beverage.
After Lozira and Mohandu had performed several songs, the men slapped the ground in front of them in applause, and then beckoned Lozira to them. Rhuna stood up and accompanied her daughter.
“What fine white skin, and golden hair she has!” exclaimed one of the men. Rhuna noticed that their eyes appeared bleary from travel and intoxicating drink, and she began to feel wary.
“Does she have a husbandly owner?” asked another.
“Yes, she does,” Rhuna said firmly, suddenly angry
that Goram was not present.
“Oh, a pity! A pity!” laughed several men together.
In that moment the men looked behind Lozira, slight surprise in their sluggish demeanour. Rhuna turned to see Panapu approach them, cautiously holding his large wooden club at his side.
“Is he the one?” laughed one of the visitors pointing at Panapu.
“No, her husband is in the house,” Rhuna answered.
“Then he is her guard,” nodded another man. “Do not worry, we will not steal her from you!” The men roared with laughter and reached for the bottle of intoxicating beverage. Rhuna was relieved to see that it was empty when they attempted to pour more into their cups.
“One more song!”
“Sing like a pretty bird!”
Lozira obeyed, and Mohandu sat down next to her with his musical cooking pots.
Rhuna slowly walked away from the terrace when it appeared that the visitors were becoming drowsy, and Panapu stood nearby to ward off any unruly behaviour.
“I’m going to see where Goram is,” she whispered to Aradin as she left.
Rhuna walked to the back of the main building, past the smaller single-level structure and across the garden towards the pyramid. She looked at the structure, noticing for the first time how its four faces were directly aligned with the four navigational directions. She assumed that knowledgeable Atlans had constructed the pyramid, and wondered once more about the previous innkeepers who had abandoned these lovely structures.
She walked around the side of the pyramid where she heard scuffing noises, and then stopped to watch Goram with dismay. He had removed most of his clothing so that he could shovel the sandy soil around the base of the pyramid. His movements where rhythmic and efficient as he dug a square hole. She watched the rippling muscles of his back and shoulders glisten from sweat in the bright sunshine.
“Your skin will burn in the hot sun,” Rhuna cautioned.
“Better than frostbite,” he grunted without interrupting the swing of his shovel.
“Lozira is entertaining guests with music and singing,” Rhuna said.
“Good.”
“The men were almost lecherous in their manner towards Lozira, and you were not there,” Rhuna said accusingly.
“You and the others were there,” Goram retorted in the same even tone and without interrupting his well-co-ordinated shovelling action. Rhuna sighed inwardly and then looked into the hole he was digging.
“What are you planning to do?” Rhuna asked after watching him in silence for a while. Goram suddenly stopped his rhythmic movements and stood erect, dropping the shovel at his feet.
“I shall require your assistance,” he told Rhuna “There is a hollow chamber inside this pyramid, and I wish to access the ground beneath it.”
“For the…time portal?” she whispered as she neared the hole he had dug.
“Yes. We must transform sand into stone blocks for the walls of this underground chamber,” he explained with only a hint of breathlessness. “Repairs to the capstone and outer surface are also necessary.”
Rhuna assured him that she would assist as required.
“Then there is another matter to discuss with you…”
“What is it?” Rhuna asked, expecting the subject to be Lozira.
“Later,” he said dismissively, and then picked up the shovel to resume his digging.
Rhuna turned around and walked back to the main building, and as she looked up, she saw Tozar looking out of an upper level window at them.
“All these weeds!” Kiana complained from the garden as Rhuna entered the main building. Rhuna smiled at her mother kneeling at the edge of the vegetable garden where she had pulled out many overgrown and unwieldy plants. She returned to the main room where Lozira sat with Mohandu and the Atlan representatives, laughing happily over their first attempt at musical entertainment.
“She is really very good,” Mohandu insisted. “Did you not enjoy it?” he asked Lozira.
Lozira admitted she was uncomfortable with the manner of the black-bearded men, but enjoyed singing for them and would gladly do it again.
“But only if you accompany me with your drumming,” Lozira teased Mohandu. “I did not know you could play so well.”
“Where I grew up, everyone played drums or a stringed instrument,” Mohandu replied modestly as he wobbled his head.
As the day progressed, Rhuna saw their guests reclining in the shade of the tree, some snoring loudly. She decided to assist in the food preparations for the meal to feed several hungry men, and then watched the beautiful colours created by the descending sun across the surrounding plains.
Lamps were alight all around the terrace where the guests enjoyed a hearty meal before loading the new innkeepers with lavish compliments. Rhuna and Aradin sat with Mohandu and Yarqi opposite their guests as they enjoyed sweets made from dates and figs.
“Such comfortable lodging, delicious food and pretty entertainment,” said one of them glancing across the patio at Lozira. “We wish to stay another day and night to relax before the long journey home.”
“Where is your home?” Aradin asked.
“The land called Farsa, many days’ journey from here; yes, many days,” he answered.
Rhuna became curious about the trade route and asked about their trade journey.
“It takes six or seven lunar cycles to complete one trade route,” answered one of the travelling merchants.
“Such a long journey!” Rhuna remarked, impressed by the men’s fortitude.
“We enjoy it,” replied another. “Always moving, meeting people, other caravans, seeing scenery and cities.”
“I like that, too,” Rhuna admitted. “But I would also like to have a real home where I can feel settled.” She looked at each brown face and black beard, noting how alike they appeared and that only the different colours of their headcloths distinguished them apart.
“Which way are you going now?” Aradin asked, attempting to make more polite conversation.
“To the Ling-Yu Empire,” answered the man with the white cloth wrapped around his head. “At least another three lunar cycles daily journeying from here. Then we stay only a few days, acquire the goods our merchant overseer directed, and then we make the return journey.”
“Such a long route!” Mohandu commented while nodding. “What are the rewards for your efforts?”
“Our overseers reward us adequately with the goods of our choice,” answered the man with yellow headwear, pointing to a gold chain and pendant on his chest, and then two large rings on his left hand.
“Ah, but I prefer the beautiful, wild and open landscapes all around us on these journeys,” said a man with a pale brown cloth on his head. “To sleep under the starry skies, or in a forest that smells of pine…”
“What do you do in bad weather?” Yarqi asked.
“Ah, we carry tents, too,” answered another man. “We need good, solid tents to protect us against the wind in these parts.”
“There are winds in this area?” Rhuna asked, thinking of the sand that had blown into the abandoned inn which required a lot of sweeping.
“Wretched winds that blow sand into eyes, ears and mouth!” said the man in the white headcloth. “That is when we cover our faces with our hijab,” he said, pulling a loose end of the cloth across his face like a veil.
The men continued to describe their love of the lands they traverse on their trade campaigns, and Rhuna began to feel the stir of envy and longing to see new and distant lands.
“Great mountains, like sharp, broken teeth,” said one as he gestured with his hands.
“The endless grasslands, like green waves of a giant green sea,” said another.
“Always interesting; good experiences!” gushed another.
“Except for certain strange events,” grumbled yet another.
“What strange events?” Mohandu asked.
The men hesitated for a moment until one began to speak. “We heard of strange
events from other travelling merchants from our land. They did not happen to us.”
“What happened?” Rhuna asked with intense curiosity, hoping their story might reveal something about the Black City and the Mages.
The men appeared to become uncomfortable as they related the story they heard.
“The caravan had come to rest for the night near an intersection with another route, and some other travellers arrived. They fell into conversation and then drink, and when they had become very intoxicated, they were set upon by robbers.
Suddenly, two jambiyas suddenly appeared from the air and flew right into the chests of the robbers! Yes, so it was told to us.”
“Jambiyas? Are they like daggers?” Rhuna asked.
The men nodded.
“We have heard such stories also,” Aradin told the men. “A knife in the air, as if by an invisible assailant.”
“Really? We thought it was a story told by intoxicated camel drivers!” Some of the black-bearded men looked at each other with slight fear in their eyes.
“Perhaps not,” Aradin said, then shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
“How could it be possible, I say,” said the man with the white headwear.
“Where did this strange event happen?” Rhuna wondered. “Near the Black City?”
“Hmm,” the men looked at each other questioningly.
“Yes, in fact it was,” said one of them. “The other travellers that arrived at the intersection were the Black-Hat people from Etzina.”
“Etzina?” Rhuna asked, and then remembered that this was the name used by the traders they met in the Land at the Top of the World.
“We’ve heard that strange things happen in the Black City,” Aradin commented.
“Ah yes, it is the strangest place we have ever seen,” said the man with the pale brown cloth around his head. The men nodded in unison and looked down at the table. A sudden silence fell upon them, and Rhuna was reminded of the same awkward tension she sensed with Ogul and his family in Axla.
“Such strange buildings, and strange people, too,” muttered one of the men.
“It is like a growing child – different every time we come!”
Rhuna- Black City Page 15
