Chapter 3.
The Sun Dance.
Karus and Micos were once bothers, great Ice Hunters of the Outlands for in those before days the sky was without a sun and darkness ruled the world.
Together the brothers could kill any beast that walked the lands and even the great Earthshakers feared them. Karus was the older of the two and always cared for his younger brother and kept him from harm, but soon Karus grew so strong that he thought himself even greater than the Gods and no longer prayed to them. He forgot the laws of Isarie and lifting his weapon to the heavens he shouted that he no longer needed the wisdom of the Goddess and from that day forward he would not obey her.
Micos heard his brother’s vow and said that he should not have spoken so and that the Gods would punish him for his blasphemy. And growing angry Karus struck out at his brother and killed him, and seeing what he had done he began to weep and beg the Goddess to forgive him.
And because of his love for his brother the Goddess turned them into burning orbs and put them into the heavens so they might give light to their world and show others the way.
Old Nomad story.
The Almadra like all Nomads spent the deep winter in one of the many thermo-canyons and deep caves that dotted the lands West of the great Chasm. There they could spend the coldest months of Gorn’s elliptical orbit because it was a place where the inner core’s heat reached the surface. Steam vents and cracks in the earth spewed up warmth and made it the perfect place for waiting out the dark days and nights.
The Outlanders called it Yomar, a word in the ancient language that meant “nest”, and it was there that the Almadra made camp, food was plentiful because the huge herds of Rimar also migrated West. They would fill some of the canyons with their kind and then go into a deep hibernation, living off their fat reserves that they had built up over the warm summer. They were easy to kill in that trance like state but the Nomads thought that it was a cowardly way of hunting but they needed meat for themselves and the Whiptails so they had no other choice.
The Trofar on the other hand needed very little to eat for like the Rimar they entered a sleep cycle and with the thick fur that now covered them they could slumber without concern. Now that time was over and with the return of the Great Sun they would begin their journey once more.
Andra had spent the night in the arms of her lover and to her there could be no other contentment greater than that. The strong arms of Arn her mate held her close and together they shared the same dreams and felt the same love that they had once known. And it was with much reluctance that Moonbud rose from their warm bed and began to put on her cold armor for she dearly wish to remain in the comfort of their tent and enjoy the passions that they shared the night before.
“I don’t see why we have to wake before Sunbirth?” the chain mail that she drew around her chest felt like ice in her fingers, “Can’t this wait until it warms up?”
The King adjusted the two daggers that hung from his wide belt, “The ceremony of the coming of Karus must be performed as the first rays of sunlight enter the night sky, it is only then that the dance of the brothers must be done”.
Moonbud fastened her steel leg guards and took up the helmet lying next to the bed, “Oh all right, but I don’t see why the Gods can’t pick a better time for their rituals”.
The Off-World girl was still not convinced of the existence of the Gods but after arriving on Gorn she had seen many things that she could not explain in a rational world so she decided that the Gods might be real but she still questioned their wisdom. But there was one thing that she understood as the truth and that was the love she felt for her mate.
When at last Arn and Andra were dressed in their finest armor the two exited the Kings tent and as they did the cold air of the night sky touched the face of the girl.
I think I prefer the Gods of my Homeworld, she thought. Thinking back on the times that her mother had dragged her brother and her to some religious ceremony or other when they would rather be playing in the open fields behind their home made her wish that she could return to those warm carefree days of her youth. I miss you mother, I miss you brother. But then she remembered who she was and what her life was now, so she held her head high and conducted herself like a strong warrior of the Almadra.
Outside the tent the King was met by several warriors, and with them was the Captain of the Spikebacks a big man by the name Kuno, the loyal Captain had been the Leader of the tribe when Arn wandered the Outlands as a Death Rider. Capable and wise he would have made a strong King but his love of drink and the ladies of the tribe kept him from wearing the helmet of Monarchy. But he was still a trusted friend and one who would have gladly sacrificed his life for his friend.
“Everything has been made ready” he said, “the warriors have cleared the ground and the Elders will be protected”. “Very well” the King smiled, “send word to the Holy Mother that she and her Handmaidens can begin”. “As you wish my lord”.
Andra had to smile at hearing all this stiff talk for she knew that in private the two were close friends, but she also understood that this was a formal ritual and that certain amenities must be observed. Still it made her chuckle under her breath. They act as if the Gods listened to every conversation; she heard her mind say, you would think that all powerful beings would have better things to do?”
The strange young girl called Niana had spent the frigid night walking under the moonlit sky and feeling no discomfort at the biting cold. She wore only a thin robe of plain cloth and no jewelry of any kind; her long thin hair was showing more and more traces of green in its coloring and this along with her strange ways made the Nomads shun her. Her travels that night caused her sorrow, for she looked up at the night moons that moved across the heavens and in her heart she understood that they feared the future. How could rock feel you may ask? That is a question that human minds cannot understand but Niana was only part human the other measure only a God is meant to know.
Now as the night drew to its close she returned to the wagon of the old man as he was coming out of his tent to greet the day. “Good morning” the old Callaxion asked, “How did you…?” he was about to ask how she slept but he knew that the young girl did not sleep and so he rephrased his question, “I trust the night went well with you?”“Yes, very well” the girl said without emotion, and she started for their Karrack and her isolation.
Like all of his species Osh was very curious about her movements and why she wandered alone in the dark, “where you looking for something last night?”
This caused the young girl to stop and look at the old man; “No” she said calmly, “I only wished to be with my mother”.
This brought a smile to the thin lips of the Callaxion, “Your mother sleeps in the tent of the King, I can show you the way if you like?”
There was a short pause as the girl looked at the wrinkled face of her companion, “Andra is the woman who gave me birth, but she is not my mother, and where I go you cannot follow”.
Osh was used to precise answers and not riddles and he was about to ask for clarification when the girl turned and climbed into the back of the wagon. This was not the Karrack that Osh and Andra once shared, it was a brand-new carrier constructed for the Callaxion and the young girl.
Andra cared for her daughter and knew that the old wagon was becoming crowded with the artifacts and scrolls that the old man collected so she asked her mate the King if a new Karrack could be made? And knowing that Moonbud was a strong-willed women and would make it cold in their tent if he disagreed he ordered the Ironworkers and woodcarvers to construct a new wagon and obeying the will of their Leader they fashioned a much larger carriage with a section in the back for Niana and her needs. They also gave Osh a larger Trofar to pull it and even a smaller cart attached to the back for storage of Kasha wheat, Eul and all matter of things, it was then painted with bright colors and a Handmaiden of Isarie came to bless it.
Even a new wagon could not cool the inquisitive mind of the ol
d man so with no one to talk too he picked up a scroll of fresh parchment, writing tool and ink and set off to record the ritual that the Nomads called the Sun Dance.
The Holy Mother and her Handmaidens had spent the entire night in prayer and chanting, they laid offerings of food and drink before the stature of Isarie that stood inside the great tent and read passages from the Holy Book. Egmar led the women in prayer and although her strength was not that of her youth she still spoke every word with conviction and lifted her arms to the sky as high as any of the novices. She wore a heavy robe of green set with silver trim with a great golden sun symbol on the back; on her head she wore the traditional golden headdress of the twin suns. Her knees were bent but knowing that the floor was cold the Handmaidens had laid a large pillow on the ground so that their Holy Mother would not be unduly taxed in her devotion.
“Oh great Goddess, may we be worthy of your wisdom” she said loudly “and may we feel the warmth of your love”. Then the former Queen took a small handful of green crystals in her thin fingers and tossed them onto a small ritual fire burning before the golden statue.
“Togasttra emo entralac, give to us your strength” she called out.
And in response the Handmaidens repeated her words. “Togasttra emo entrelac. Give to us your strength”.
The faithful of the Goddess had performed this ritual a thousand times, and each time they offered the precious salt called Grana to the Gods. To them it was life itself, a gift from Isarie and kept them from entering the Afterlife before their time. They wore thin robes and their faces were decorated with gold markings and sacred symbols. Now with the offering accepted they rose up on their feet and one by one they left the meeting chamber leaving Egmar to herself.
The old woman stood there looking into the face of the Goddess and feeling her loving presence in her heart. “May I be worthy of your love,” she said softly.
I know your book, I follow its teachings, I believe.
She turned and walked away, inside her she carried the mercy of the Gods and the warmth of her love.
The location where the Almadra waited out the long winter had once been the boiling caldron of a huge volcano. The molten rock that once spewed out from deep in the earth had twisted themselves into hunks of stone that dotted the landscape and gave the place a haunted look. Along with the huge monoliths were bubbling pools of warm water and geysers of steam intermittently sending streams of scalding vapor into the sky, but with all its strange appearance it also supplied the Nomads with much needed gifts, between the inhospitable places were open fields of vegetation, trees that bore fruit and small lakes with a large species of fish whose flesh was sweet to the taste. Here was also found the seedpods that yielded the rare Ulon spice that was used in everyday cooking. It was also a good training place for the young of the tribe, they were now entering their middle growth, no longer small and helpless the winter months had seen them grow tall and strong. It was at this time that they began their training as warriors, Ironworkers or healers, and some were chosen as Handmaidens to the Goddess. They of course would not be fully developed until the next Burning Time when they slept in the Hollow Hills to be reborn, but it was here that they set their futures.
There was only one way in and one way out of Yomar, this narrow opening was guarded day and night for just outside the Hagars roamed the land, it was one such raiding party that tried to enter and had been driven off just the day before. Soon the place called the Nest would see the last of the Nomads for it was the time of the Sun Dance and the beginning of a new cycle for the Outlanders. Over the many centuries that the followers of Isarie had been coming there they had constructed a large temple made from the dark rock of the valley, it resembled a circle of tall columns much like the Eye of Isarie in the plains of Darmock but smaller in size. Each tower was topped by a large golden dish connected to a set of gears and pulleys that ran down the sides of the columns. Each column surrounded a large stone wheel set off the ground by a center hub, it was as thick as a man is tall and its edge was inlaid with bone, and along this edge were dozens of short handles sticking out. These were also of ivory and were worn in places as if hands had gripped them over the ages. The wheel itself was a dozen meters across and carved with intricate images of animals and creatures of fantastic design, and at its center was a raised platform that was covered in layers of gold. But it was not carved in any design and seemed to be nothing more than layers of metal as if something had been poured there. On the outer rim of the wheel were the signs of the different faces of the moons and astrological numbers that were of great importance to the Nomads.
It was at this place that the Almadra would pay tribute to the Gods, for as the night was about to end the Nomads gathered around the temple and began chanting. As they did the King and his mate slowly made their way, followed close behind by the warriors who held burning torches in their hands. Each warrior was also wearing their best armor; this was not the thick blood stained protection that covered their strong bodies when going into battle, this was their brightly polished ceremonial dress that they wore for religious occasions. But one thing that they refused to do was leave their weapons in the tents, each one held his war-ax or Tooth as it was known in his free hand, for danger was always present and a wise warrior would never be caught off guard. As they walked they also chanted and with each step they beat their weapons on the ground to add power to their cadence.
Behind the warriors marched the Thungodra, the protectors of the Holy Mother; they wore their dark armor as always and likewise held weapons and torches. The sang as the Nomads did but they were not like them for they had, man and woman alike taken a vow of celibacy and devoted their lives to training for battle and for filling their oath to keep their Holy Mother from harm.
Behind the devoted warriors walked the Handmaidens of Isarie, they wore robes of brightly colored cloth in a rainbow pattern and their faces still bore the golden markings from before. On their head they wore elaborate headdresses set with the feathers from Doffbird’s also dyed in beautiful colors, but in the darkness of night their true effect was lost. Each young girl held a small but well-made statue of a man in her hands, they were made of gold and if you looked at them closely they would have matched the features of Karus and Micos, the bothers of the suns.
The last to make her way to the temple was the Holy Mother, she sat on a golden litter held up by several of her Thungodra, she wore the same clothing as before except she held a staff in her hand topped by a large golden disk. Egmar held her head high for it was the first time that she would be presiding over this important ritual, the last time they were here Obec the treacherous former Holy Mother had sat in this chair. Obec betrayed her people Egmar mused, for that she should burn in the Pit of Marloon, then remembering her vow of kindness she rephrased her words, perhaps Isarie will grant her mercy----but I doubt it.
Far enough away to not be noticed but close enough to observe all that was taking place Osh stood on a large flat rock that was overhanging a small pool of boiling water. One slip and he would plunge to a horrible death, but the feel of warm air on his chilled bones was enough to make him take the risk. Besides he had already calculated the odds of such a thing happening and found them in his favor, so to him there was nothing to fear. Now he held his parchment and writing tool in his thin hands and smiled in anticipation of seeing something that no other scholar of the Outer Rim had ever witnessed. If only I could mind-link, he thought, it would save time and be far more accurate than writing. The old man was referring to the Callaxions ability to interface with the powerful Trolacian computers and feed his thoughts directly into their memory banks rather than the infinitely slower method of writing. But of course there were no such computers on Gorn so if he wanted to record what he saw he would have to do it the old fashion way.
In the moonlight he watch the Nomads gather around the temple and when all the tribe were in their places he saw Arn stand up on a large carved rock formation and speak to hi
s people.
“We have endured the long night and the cold hand of winter,” the King said in a loud clear voice, “and now the return of Karus is at hand, so as our ancestors did before us we will pay tribute to the Gods and their wisdom.” When he had finished speaking the Almadra turned to the Holy Mother who was now standing with her Handmaidens close to the great wheel.
“Isarie in her wisdom as given us the cycles of our lives and we as her children have followed her laws, we now show our love with the dance of the sun”. The Holy Mother lifted her staff and pointed to the snowcapped mountains in the distance, there could be seen the first faint traces of light. As they waited the light started to grow and the drums of the Outlanders began to beat, and with their pounding a song filled the air, it was the song of the Brothers.
“Brothers of light we shed the night.
Hunters of the day we feel your might.
Night has gone and the suns will shine.
Leaving all sadness in dreams behind.”
As they sang the Almadra began to beat their feet upon the cold ground and taking up the tempo the warriors lifted their weapons and struck the hard earth with them, all the while calling out to their Gods. Arn and Andra also sang for the Off-World girl had learned many of the traditional chants of the Outlanders and felt their power in her heart, and she lifted her voice as loud as anyone’s.
One by one the Handmaids walked up to the great wheel and stood upon it, each in turn placed the small golden stature that they carried on its center point, then whispering a prayer they removed their robes. When their colorful garment had fallen away you could see that each of them was naked save for their headdresses, but their slim bodies were covered in gold dust giving them the appearance of ritual statues. And like statues they stood unmoving in the cold night.
As the first light began to fill the valley dozens of warriors put down their torches and weapons and moved to the great wheel, they grasped the protruding handles tightly and with all their might they began to push. As they did a grinding sound began to emanate from the stone dais for it had been a long-time sense it had been turned. With the muscles on their arms and backs straining with effort, the ancient wheel began to move, and as it did the disks on the tops of the columns also began to move. They turned in unison until they were precisely aligned with the rays of the rising sun and the astrological markings on the wheel’s edge were where they should be. When at last the dais and dicks were in their proper places the warriors moved away from the temple.
The singing continued as more and more of Karus light filled the land, then it rose up the tall columns and at last touched the disks on their tops. When it did a great burst of light poured down upon the center of the wheel and reflected on the faces of those who watched. In a few moments, the light grew more intense and it was at this time that the Handmaidens of Isarie began their dance. They moved together, each lifting her arms and legs and catching the reflecting light from the beams that now burn hotly upon the center of the round stone; soon the golden statues began to melt for the intense heat that was now concentrated down from the towers. As Andra watched her heart began to beat in fear for the young Handmaidens.
One missed step she thought and they will burn.
And her fear was justified for the rays were as deadly as any Blaze-canon fire, but this didn’t stop the maidens from showing their devotions to the Gods and as the drums beat louder and the singing grew so did their movements. Soon they leaped high in the air and bounding between the deadly shafts of light like they were dancing on the open grasslands of the Plains of Darmock. And with every step the Off-World girl held her breath and fear burned in her heart but she stood beside the King and did not show her feeling on her face.
Soon the golden statues that had once stood so proudly were reduced to pools of molten metal, what had once been an offering to their Gods was now nothing more than another layering upon the ancient stone. And with one last pounding of the drums the ceremony was done.
“The brothers of the sky are once more together” the Holy Mother proclaimed, “and now comes the time that we leave this place and go where Isarie commands us to go and we will……”.
It was then that something strange happened for Egmar suddenly stopped as if she was made of stone, she did not speak or show any sign of life in her face. And it was not just the Holy Mother for those around her also stood frozen in time and seeing this Andra turned to her mate.
“What is happening?” she asked, but as she looked into the face of the man she loved she saw the same dead features. And seeing this she shook him by the arm, “Wake up!” she called out and was about to say it again when life returned to him and those that had been frozen. And once more the Holy Mother’s words could be heard.
“…follow her will”. Then as if nothing had happened the Almadra began to move away from the great wheel unaware of what had just transpired.
The King smiled at his mate, “Come the ritual is done” and he began to walk away, but seeing a strange look in the eyes of Moonbud he turned to her once more, “Why do you stay, there is nothing more that must be done”. For a moment, the girl did not know what to say, “Didn’t you see what just happened?” She asked. “I saw the dance of the brothers, nothing more” he said with a laugh, “All was done as it should be and the Gods are content”. And seeing that it would be useless to argue she went with her mate and said nothing more, but in her mind burned a question that she knew must be answered.
Osh had witnessed the ritual of the return of Gorn’s primary sun and the dance of the brothers and it was with great pride that he wrote down all that he had seen.
If only the master recorders on Callax knew of the things that I have seen, and he smiled broadly for he knew that they would have been very jealous of his good fortune.
As he finished marking his parchment he looked up to see the Almadra standing like cloth-dressed mannequins and it caused him to take a step backwards, but when he did his foot slipped on the wet rock and he tumbled off the outcropping and fell towards the pool of burning water. He should have died then and there but it seems that his luck was holding and he missed the boiling death by inches, never the less his right hand touched the scalding water and he cried out in pain.
Chapter 4.
The Tribe of Many.
There are some Outlanders who do not have tribes, they are called Waste Wanderers or Outcasts and travel the lands of Gorn alone and friendless, the other tribes do not speak of them and they are given a wide birth if seen. But those that are driven from their people sometimes gather together for survival and although the Gods do not protect them they endure all the same.
From the writings of Oshismarie Inastro Sistashion.
Nomads The Risen God Page 5
