Nomads The Risen God

by Gary Mark Lee

Anais and Kela had survived the great cold of winter, they managed to find a small cave in the Hollow Hills and there they stayed till the captive ice began to melt and the great sun Karus made his return.

  And with the coming of the suns they ventured out and once more began their journey, the traveling was slow at first for the ground was still packed with ice and snow and there were strange atmospheric events such as wind storms and small shakings of the ground but with each passing day they found patches of green and enough Rimar to fill their bellies. Now it would have been impossible for a blind man and a Handmaiden of Isarie to bring down a full grown Thundra beast but they had the help of the two Drogs that the Norgonie had given them before they left the forest of Caltarine. The two fierce creatures were well-trained and would obey the wishes of their masters, but it was not all conditioning on the part of Kela for she always possessed a liking for animals and it did not matter that the two ferocious hunting Drogs could have killed her without effort. Never the less she showered them with affection and even sang songs to them as if they were harmless Burrow-Babies and not powerful hunters of Sagar cats. So when they chanced upon a lone Rimar the two Drogs would fall upon it and using their strong teeth and claws they would bring it down and supply enough meat for many days. She even went so far as to give them names so now Jumo and Dalgar would pace back and forth beside the wagon and now and then let out with a loud howl giving a strong warning to travelers not to cross their path.

  In the days and nights since they left their cave the two Outcast Nomads found others of their kind, wanderers of the land without tribes or families to care for them, and because there was strength in many they let them travel with them. And soon their numbers grew for Anais had learned a bitter lesson when he was a cruel King of the Almadra and now that he followed the teaching of a Star-Gazer he looked for better in those he met and help them find their way. And although Kela was no longer a Handmaiden of Isarie she still followed her writings and opened her heart to those that had closed theirs.

  They now all traveled together, warriors and wayfarers, hunters and craftsmen, the old and the young, it did not matter if they had been members of different tribes, Ozendra, Maringar, Bal-Borie or Armrod. They all worked together for survival, and with the Blind Prince leading them they slowly made their path across the land.

  They made their way across the Sirolian Plains and managed to stay out of the way of the giant Earthshakers and fearsome wild Whiptails, then through the mazelike Pass of Moke and into the vast openness of Darmock, they continued onward heading for the Eye of Isarie. The Eye is a Holy Place to the Outlanders for it was the meeting place that held the sacred Talk Stone, the huge columns of rock that surrounded the alter had been damaged in the great Landquack but never the less it was still a place that the Outlanders held in great esteem and a place to pray to the Gods for strength and wisdom.

  “I do not think the snow will fall tonight,” Kela said as she looked up at the open sky, “The wind is blowing from the south and I see a Sundropper circling”. It was true that seeing a Sundropper was a good omen for weather for the flying reptiles used warm air currents to stay aloft and they never flew when there was a chance of ice. But as the Handmaiden held the reins of their wagon in her hands the man who had stolen her heart was not so sure. “One Sundropper does not seal a fate,” Anais said as he sat beside her, “They do not lay all their eggs in the same nest”.

  Hearing such words of understanding spoken by her mate made the young girl laugh for she knew that it was a passage from the thirty-nine Books of Wisdom that the forest dwellers had given to them before they left the great Fortress.

  “I see that you were listening as I read” Kela said for she had indeed used the long winter to read to her companion. “I am surprised that you have remembered”. “Yes, I remember” the blind man replied, I remember all that you said to me and all that you gave me. And his mind returned to those dark nights when they did not know if they would ever see the sunlight again or smell the sweet grass of the open plain, all that I am I owe to her.

  To look at her you would have not said that the young Handmaiden had changed much, she still bore the terrible facial scar that had kept her from performing many of the sacred rituals of the tribe when she was a servant of the Goddess. And she no longer wore the traditional garments that all Handmaidens adorned themselves with but looking at her you could still see the brightness in her eyes and know that she had not turned away from Isarie and continued to pray to her for forgiveness. And each night she would bend her knees and lifted her arms and uttered a prayer to the man she killed.

  “Valen,” she would say, “I am sorry that I took your life, can you find it in your heart to forgive me.” It did not matter if she had followed a vow that she made to her father to avenge his death she still felt great pain in her heart, but with the passing of time she hope that it would lessen and that she could at last find peace.

  And now as the days grew warmer so did their love and from that warmth a new world would grow.

  Unknown to Anais and Kela there was another tribe near the Holy Place but they were not Nomads and did not pray to the same Gods.

  Sandjars led by Endo and his mate slowly moved south across the ground the Nomads called Darmock, they were not a large tribe but they knew the land and how to survive, they were once slaves, forced to mine the earth for the burning rock called Eul by their masters the Norgonie, the forest dwellers of Caltarine, but they were freed and with Endo as their Coraw or leader they managed to endure through the bitter cold of the dim time and now lived the life of freedom.

  The wagon of Endo and Rawna led the way as they moved southward, they and traveled through the Poisoned Lands but did not see any sign of dreaded Shadowmen, why they did not emerge from their underground homes the Sandjar did not know, perhaps they were not awake yet or maybe they simply saw no need to attack a small band of Scavengers who were just crossing their land? But whatever reason Endo was thankful for the peace for this gave him time to teach his people what they needed to know about the Outlands and the dangers waiting there. It took some time but he finally felt that his people were now strong enough to face foes or attacks by creatures that would gladly feed on them, so with pride and courage he lead the way and beside him sat his one love.

  Rawna had also grown, she was no longer the frightened little slave that knew only cruelty and the darkness of the mines, she could speak clearly now and had a quick mind, she also learned the fundamentals of reading and writing but found them tiresome and therefore did not devote much time to learning more, she would rather tend to the needs of her mate and feel his warmth lying beside her.

  “Would you like a nice bowl of soup for your evening meal?” she asked her mate, she hoped that he would say yes for she prided herself on her cooking and had already gathered all the needed ingredients for the thick concoction.

  Endo turned to look into the bright loving eyes of his mate, Hagar soup again? He thought, we had soup last night and the night before, but he knew that it was her favorite food and even though she did not use enough Ulon spice to enhance the flavor he smiled at her. “Soup would be wonderful” he said. And hearing this Rawna put her arm around his and began to hum in contentment.

  Endo took one hand from the reins of his Trofar and placed it on the belly of his mate, there he felt the roundness that had been growing for some time and knew that his offspring was also content.

  “Have you been eating enough rough worms?” he asked, “They will help with the growing pains and give our child strong teeth”. But Rawna only smiled at him, “Of course I have, do you think I do not know how to care for a little one?’ “I did not mean to question your ability; I simply wanted to make sure we had enough crawlers left?

  Hearing this the young Sandjar female reached behind her into the wagon and drew out a painted jar and opened the lid, she reached inside and pulled out a large handful of green worms that wiggled in her thin fingers. “Look for yourself” she s
aid and put her hand in front of her mates face, “I have dug up enough and more” then she put the handful of worms into her mouth and chewed them slowly, when she had finished her meal she whipped her face and began to hum once more.

  It is often said that Sandjars are vile creatures without a soul and that they care little for others or their children, but those that said such things are looking through a mist of superiority that clouds the mind.

  All that day the Tribe of Many traveled without incident, they saw a small herd of Ax-Breakers but their meat was tuff and their hard shell backs made them very difficult to kill, they did however come across a group of young Rimar and the warriors quickly brought them down and their tender meat was given to the tribe.

  Now as evening began to fall the Blind Prince spoke to his mate, “Over that next rise we will find shelter and a good place to camp”. Kela had long ago accepted the fact that Anais could know things when others could not, perhaps his senses had been enhanced by his lack of site so that he could smell the scent of Balbar trees or fresh water? Or maybe his mind could now reach out beyond others to know what could not be known, or perhaps it was luck? But whatever the reason the Handmaiden knew that he spoke the truth.

  “Very well” she said and signaled to the others following their wagon that they would be stopping for the night then she turned back to her mate, “tonight I will prepare fresh Rimar with a bowl of Hagar soup and Kasha bread with Meadowcane biscuits”, and saying this she waited for her mate to smile and praise her for she knew that it was his favorite meal and he had not eaten it in a long time. But as she waited she did not see a smile on his face and he seemed to be thinking deep thoughts. “Is there something wrong?” she finally asked. Then after a time the Prince turned his head towards her, “no, there is nothing wrong, I was just…..”. But he did not speak again and when their wagon rose up and over the small ridge ahead of them there on the other side was the perfect place to settle the wagons and set up their tents so Kela decided to let the matter go but in the back of her head a small voice kept calling out to her, there is something he is not telling me.

  The Nomads of the Outlands had lived the same way for countless generations, wandering the land and following their traditions, not because they had too but because they wanted too. They saw no need to change for they had everything they needed, food, water, and the Gods to look over them and over the many cycles of their lives they were content.

  The wagons or Karracks as they were sometimes called were marvels of engineering, strong and sturdy they were handed down from one generation to another. They had massive wheels, they were very wide so as to not become bogged down in snow or sand, they carried everything the Outlanders needed and if they became too filled they had smaller carts added to their back ends to take the surplus. Likewise, their tents were exceptional in design, they could be round or triangle in shape, and because they were made of tough Rimar hide they could withstand a strong wind or rain. They had an opening in the top to let out smoke when Washa’s were taken inside for warmth and the sides could be lifted to allow a cool breeze in the heat of summer. So when the time came for setting up camp it took the Nomads only a short time to have everything in its place and the fires burning brightly.

  Sentries were posted for even in the open lands an enemy could be close at hand. There were always Sandjars or wild beasts and even the sky could bring down death in the form of a Dropship or some other unwanted spacecraft from a distant world. So warriors kept a lookout and they set their weapons close at hand.

  Anais sniffed the air inside his tent and smiled, “Make sure you do not put in too much Ulon spice in the soup” he said. This brought an immediate response from Kela who had been stirring the cooking pot sitting on their Washa, “I will have you know I put the perfect amount of seasoning for this time of the cycle”. That was true for in winter you added a bit more of the pungent seasoning to add warmth to a meal were as in summer you put in less.

  The Blind Prince also knew that it was true but he delighted in teasing his mate about her cooking, so when she handed him his eating bowl filled with soup and another plate heaped with succulent Rimar meat he took a spoonful into his mouth, let the warm broth run into his belly then apologized. “I can see that I was once again mistaken in questioning your cooking skills” and he filled his mouth with another spoonful of the excellent concoction.

  Kela’s face showed a large smile as she listened to the kind words of her mate, she knew that his former words were only made in jest but like all women she liked to hear that she was not taken for granted and that her efforts were greatly appreciated.

  And so they ate their evening meal all the while talking about the day’s events and what tomorrow might bring, and when the food was gone they sat near the warm cooking stove and she read to him from one of the thirty nine Books of Wisdom until they were tired. And then they lay in each other’s arms and let themselves be taken by love to a place that only lovers know.

  Kela had been correct in her prediction about it not snowing for when the twin suns rose in the morning sky there was no new ice on the ground. The Nomads had many words to describe snow and ice for it took many forms, there is snow when it is hard or soft, snow that is freshly fallen or had been on the ground for a long time. They had a word for snow of different colors or tints, words for ice when it is cracked or sharp or piled in heaps, ice that is moving or still, ice that is thick or thin. All and all they had over two dozen words that could describe what they were looking at, but listing them would tire the mind and will not be spoken of now.

  After the Nomads had eaten their morning meal Kela stood outside her tent and tossed chunks of raw Rimar to Jumo and Dalgar, and as they devoured the succulent meat she smiled.

  “Do not eat so fast or you will regret it later”, she said as Dalgar the male and larger of the two Drogs tore at the offering with his massive teeth. “Leave some for your mate”, and to make sure that Jumo the female would not go hungry she tossed a large cut of meat to her. When she did a fight broke out between the two and howls filled the air, and seeing that her guardians were hurting each other the Handmaiden picked up a small rock from the ground and threw it at them, “STOP IT!” she called out and to make her point she threw yet another stone.

  Hearing such a commotion Anais quickly came out of their dwelling, “I told you before do not treat them like Lap-Petters, they were bred for killing”.

  But before he could warn his mate another time the howling stopped and all was quiet once more, and thinking that his words found their mark he smiled and nodded his head.

  “You see, I told you that they should be treated like the dangerous creatures they are”.

  “Yes, you are right” Kela said quietly, “you are a very wise man”.

  But what he could not see was his mate standing beside the two beasts stroking them on their massive heads and they in turn licking the fingers of her delicate hands.

  By mid-day the Tribe of Many had traveled a great distance, the day was warmer and soon the bits of snow and ice had vanished and the air smelled of growing things. They continued onward and made sure to avoid any sign of Earthshakers or trails left by scavengers. Sandjar’s would probably not attack a group as large as the Outcasts but it was always wise to be careful so the Nomads sent out riders to search for danger and scan the terrain for another suitable place to make their camp.

  As Kela held the reins of their wagon she looked down at Dalgar who was moving with labored strides and growling as if he smelled a Sagar cat.

  “I told you not to eat so fast,” she said shaking her head, “but do not worry, I will brew you a soothing potion made of Safic-berries and Rockworm”. Anais who was sitting beside her shook his head and was about to say something concerning her treatment of their Drogs but he stopped himself, she cares for all living things he thought, and it is not your place to question the gifts of Isarie.

  Hearing his mind say such things he remembered all the past events
of his life, his troubled childhood and the torments of his youth, the jealousy that cost him the use of his eyes and the deaths of so many. But then he also remembered the softening of his heart and the kindness that had saved him from himself, and now here he was, alive and sitting beside the one he loved.

  It has been a strange journey. And he was about to tell Kela how much she meant to him when his mind touched on something cold, “Something is coming” he said.

  No sooner had he said this then one of the Outriders raced up to him on his Whiptail.

  “Sandjar” the warrior said, and immediately Anais spoke back to him.

  “Tell the warriors to guard the wagons and form a defense”.

  Nomads warriors spend most of their time in training and knew how to defend their tribe, they would gladly lay down their lives for their people and it did not matter if they had grown up under another leader or flag so as the news of Sandjar near they spread out to encircle the wagons and made sure that the women and children were safe.

  The Tribe waited silently but the warriors tensed their muscles in anticipation of a fight, they knew that Sandjars could be vicious in battle but they also knew that the Scavengers rarely attacked Nomads and preferred to run from trouble.

  Anais reached out with his mind, it is strange, I feel Sandjars but I do not feel danger?

  Beside him Kela waited, Dalgar growled and snapped this massive jaws together hoping that they would soon tasted flesh as all thoughts of pain vanished from his belly.

  Slowly the Handmaiden raised her hand as a signal to the warriors to ready themselves for the charge, then she saw a Karrack rise up over the hill.

  If they are foe we will defend ourselves, being a follower of Isarie she had respect for all things living but it was written in the Holy Book.

  Hold out one hand in friendship.

  But in the other grip your weapon.

  And Kela knew they were wise words indeed as she waited to give the signal, then she saw whose hands were holding the Trofars reins and slowly lowered her hand.

  “Endo” she said turning to her mate, “It is Endo and his tribe” then she raised her hand to the oncoming wagon and called out in a loud voice. “FRIENDS!” and to a follower of the Goddess there are no better words.