Chapter 11.
The Mouth of the Winds.
Gargus-Ral was a giant of old times, he was as tall as a mountain and as strong as the sea, he spent his days feasting on herds of Rimar and washing it down with a lake of clear water, when at last he slept he would open his great mouth and suck in the winds from the sea and blow them out to the lands beyond the rocks.
Old Nomad story.
The light of the twin suns found the Almadra preparing for the journey to the Western Sea. They had risen early, attached the Trofars to their wagons and the offerings of great trees for the Ackuna, as they labored they also noticed that the night sky was filled with falling lights. This in itself was not unusual, for all Nomads understood that their world was a dumping place for unwanted materials and people. The Outlands were littered with broken space craft, and other metallic objects that had fallen there in ages long past, these mixed with the ancient war machines or as the Nomads called them “The Toys of Isarie”.
The King and his mate had spent the night in each other’s arms as they always did, Arn was a strong man and at times his lovemaking was rough but Andra did not complain and being a sturdy woman herself she found their nights together quite satisfying. As they stood outside their tent checking their saddles and making sure that nothing could pull loose Moonbud looked up at the waning night sky.
“Look!” she said pointing to the small lights crossing the darkness, “Sky-fall”.
Andra knew that the lights were most likely not meteorites but Dropships, the very kind of space craft that had transported her and Osh to Gorn as outcasts, but why they would appear now worried her for the city of the Talsonar was destroyed by Atos before the cold time and that was the main landing site for those type of crafts. Glancing up the King was not impressed, “The stars are always bringing us gifts” he said as he adjusted the saddle on his Whiptail, “We have a hard day ahead of us so hold your eyes on the task ahead”.
A hard day the girl thought, when is there a day without danger? Then she picked up her Tooth and mounted her Whiptail, “A hard day you say? Well then what are you waiting for?” she dug her spurs into the sides of her reptilian mount and rode off fast leaving the King to catch up.
She is a prize for any man let alone a King, Arn’s mind said, and he knew it was true for what other woman would have risked her life so many times standing at his side? But as he was about to mount his saddle a voice called out in his head, she is your enemy! Hearing this the King turned to see who had spoken, “Who speaks to me!?” his voice was filled with anger for those words were an insult to his mate and the woman he loved, but looking around he saw only his warriors preparing for the trip ahead and nothing more so shaking his head he lifted himself into his saddle and gripped the reins tightly and looking up at the stars once more he smiled, the stars brought her to me and for that I thank you. Urging his Whiptail forward he rode as fast as he could to reach the woman he loved.
Many others noticed the lights but none of this seemed to matter to the Outlanders for they trusted in the will of the Goddess and focused on the task before them, and that was formidable for ahead of them lay the Mouth of the Winds. Knowing this the Nomads lashed everything tightly to their Karracks with heavy strands of Rimar hide, and items that would have hung from the sides of the wagons were placed inside and there they would be secured so that nothing would move freely. The great wagon of the Holy Mother was treated the same, banners and flags were rolled up and put away, the large sunshade on the highest level was removed along with offerings to the Goddess for those were meant for Isarie and not for the mouth of Gargus-Ral.
But what neither Osh nor Andra knew was that as they slept the Nomads were once again seized by the immobility that had overtaken them before, those on guard stood like statues and those that sat by their campfires did the same, it was a lucky thing that no one was injured badly but there were a few burns for those who had been standing to close to their Wahsa’s when the strange event took place.
Osh had slept soundly and was now too busy arguing with Alune to look up at the stars let alone the tiny lights streaking across the darkness. “What did you do with my favorite drinking cup” the old man grumbled, “I distinctly remember placing it right here” and he pointed to the small table that stood next to a carved stool that the Callaxion liked to sit on when he was writing on his scrolls. But the Touchtender shook her head and moved to where her companion stood and lifting a scroll of Rimar skin she picked up the small silver cup that lay hidden, “If it was a Rockworm it would have bitten you” she said with a smile, “now we have a rough ride ahead so you should….” Her words trailed off for she noticed a small woman drawing near, as the figure came closer she realized that it was the girl named Niana, the strange creature that rode in the back of their Karrack and never came out in the daylight. Being a Touchtender Alune had taken an oath to tend for all in need but even her caring heart was put to the test whenever she was near the bizarre young girl.
She is not one of the Chosen Alune thought, she is something that should not be, and as the girl stood near them the old woman could not help but feel a cold shiver up her spine.
On the other hand, Osh had grown use to the girl, to him she was a creature of great interest and being a Callaxion he wished to learn all he could about her but their conversations brought him little information. Now the old man waited for the girl to climb into their wagon but she did not, instead she just stood there with a look of longing on her pale face.
“Soon there is a thing to be done” Niana said softly, “A thing of pain and suffering, but when all is done a better world will be born.” The young girl lowered her head and stared at the ground, “My mother is calling me” then without another word she climbed into the Karrack and disappeared from site.
Osh and Alune stood there for a moment or two neither one knowing what to say or do then at last the Touchtender spoke, “We must go now” and she put the last of their items into their wagon, climbed into the driver seat and waited until her companion did the same, when all was ready she snapped the reins and off they went to join in the long column moving towards the sea.
All that morning the Almadra journeyed the path before them, they had traveled this road a hundred times before and would do so a hundred times more if the Gods willed it, to them it was their life, endless travel, across the Sirolian Plains, through the Pass of Moke to the Eye of Isarie, then to the land of Omargash, ever onward, it was their way and it would continue for all time, it was as it should be, the path and the will of the Goddess.
“Strange?’ Osh said as he took in the landscape surrounding him, “This road was not made by nature, it was made by humans, you can tell from the layering of the rock and the un-natural contouring of the hillsides”. Any learned man of the Outer Rim would have agreed with the Callaxion, the path was wide and cut through the mountain range with a precision that could not have come naturally, but they would have also said that the knowledge of the old man was elementary for all about were the remains of drilling machines and rock cutters and even a first level student would have come to the same conclusion, the road rose upwards with a long fall into a chasm on one side and jagged cliffs rising upwards on the other, it was wide enough for the Holy Wagon to travel and more, however one miss step and a Nomad would find a quick death at the bottom of a long fall. All of this did not matter to the Touchtender for she stood strong by her beliefs and knew that it was all the work of the Goddess.
As Osh made notes on his writing pad he continued to talk, “It must have taken many cycles to complete the task, countless work days and perhaps many deaths, it reminds me of the great constructions on Totarus seven, they have a city that was cut from a mountain and has stood for ten thousand of their cycles, a truly great work of labor.” Osh was about to go into details when a strong gust of wind hit his face and blew the Rimar skin scroll out of his hands. “Valcoush!” he cried as he grabbed for his writings but it was hopeless and he watched as the
strong wind carried his inscribed thoughts away, saving what he could Osh put away his writing utensils and smelled the air, “We must be near the water, there is a smell of salt in the air”. “That is the breath of Gargus-Ral” Alune said, “Soon he will empty his lungs and the wind will blow hard”.
Osh was about to say that the wind is a result of the lowering and rising of barometric air pressure but he decided that he did not have the energy for a prolonged argument and let it go.
As the day progressed the gusts continued to rise so by late afternoon the air was like an invisible wall slowing down the column of riders and the wagons that followed behind, both Arn and Andra lowered their face shields and when they talked they had to shout so that their voices could be heard over the howling wind. “We must make camp for the night!” Andra called out, “the winds are too strong for us to continue”. But the King shook his head, “No, the winds will only grow stronger with nightfall; we must pass through the mouth before we can stop”.
In the Holy Wagon the High Priestess Egmar and her devoted Handmaidens sat in a circle round a statue of the Goddess and chanted an ardent payer to Isarie.
“The mouth of the winds blows from the sea.
The winds of the world are now set free.
Protect us from the giant of the rocks.
Protect us from the breath that mocks.
Keep us safe in your strong hand.
Keep us safe as we cross the land.”
There were others in the tribe that prayed for they had come this way before and knew of the dangers. Kalgar-Rune lead his warriors and made sure that the Karrack of the Holy Mother would be safe. I will keep my vow the Thungodra warrior thought, I will keep the Holy Mother safe”.
And behind the moving temple Kuno the stalwart Captain of the Spikeback warriors called out in mocking laughter to the howling winds. “Blow your worst old man of the mountain, we will pass and none will stop us!” and to make sure his voice could be heard he reached down and took a long draft of sour Po from a Rimar skin container that hung from his heavy saddle, “Blow your worst!” he shouted once more.
Osh pulled the hood of his winter robe securely around his wrinkled face and gripped the wooden hand rail of the wagon tightly; beside him Alune kept a taut rein on their Trofar and made sure that they did not stray from their place in the long column of Karracks.
“How long before the winds stops?” the old man called out loudly.
“When we pass through the mouth of Gargus-Ral” the Handmaiden replied.
At the head of the Nomad column Arn and Andra found it difficult to control their Whiptails for the reptilian beasts would rather have stopped and turned away from the blowing air.
“Steady!” Andra called out as she fought to hold onto her saddle as her Whiptail rose up high on his strong hind legs and tried to shake her from its back, but she was a tested rider and dug her spurs into the flanks of the bucking creature and soon the huge beast settled down once more.
Then as she raised her face shield and rubbed the dust from her eyes she saw a huge face looming up before her, it was cut from solid rock and bore a resemblance to an old man that lived near their farm back on her Homeworld, but this façade was tremendous in size, rising up from the path and high up the rock cliff, its mouth was open and through it their route lay, and from the gaping grin a rush of air flowed that blew with the force stronger than a wind storm on the Sirolian plains.
Andra did not have to ask what had to be done for she knew that they would have to go into that blast of air no matter what the cost. Turning to her mate she saw him lift his hand and those following behind him stopped and waited. No words were spoken but each member of the tribe knew what needed to be done and with hand signals from their King they proceeded forward. The column opened up to let pass the Holy Wagon transporting the Speaker of the Gods, and leading the way was Kalgar-Rune. “Forward!” the leader of the Thungodra shouted, and obeying his words the holy warriors surrounded the huge wagon and watched as the Trofars pulled hard at the front, the great moving shine creaked and groaned as it moved up the path and into the roaring winds, and inside Egmar and her Handmaidens continued to pray hard least they be found wanting and at the mercy of Horcon the sand dragon headed God of destiny, and so they held hands and lifted their voices to the Goddess.
“Forgive our sins, forgive our weakness.
Grant us mercy in your eyes and in your heart.
Let us live another day to serve you and your people.
Forgive us oh Goddess, forgive us, forgive.”
The huge wagon moved onward with the Malock behind, the Rimar that would be used at the Mating ritual that was to come later in the cycle and of course the Karracks of Grana, the precious green salt that was needed by the Nomads and used in all their sacred ceremonies, And Isarie must have heard their pleas for they entered the great mouth unharmed.
Next came the Elders and the wagons of the Frail Legs, and although Osh was neither his Karrack moved with the rest and at the reins of the carriage was Alune. “Move!” she called out striking the hard skin of their Trofar with the reins, “Move you foul smelling Romarcar!”
Osh had to smile some at hearing such words from the Touchtender for calling anything a Romarcar was language that was not spoken around the campfires, its precise meaning is hard to describe but it has to do with being so stubborn that you would rather suffer than submit to a bodily function having to do with waste removal, but the Trofar must have understood for it moved forward without further complaint. The Callaxion was hard pressed as the fierce winds buffeted his wrinkled face and although he would not have admitted it he was very glad that Alune was by his side.
After the wagons of the Elders and the Frail-Legs came all the others, the Ironworkers, potters, weavers, wood carvers, all the many craftspeople that any tribe of the Outlands must have. And when they had entered the rock carved tunnel the Trofars pulling the great trees came next and bringing up the rear were the Spikbacks with their Long-range weapons and Disrupters. The weight of the massive tree trunks were many times that of the Holy Wagon and dozens of strong Trofars pulled at the thick chains moving them ever forward but the path rose up and that added to their burden so they roared and grunted and those guiding them shouted commands and struck them with dense whips, of course the hide of a Rimar was very thick so the whips did no damage but the loud “crack” made the Thundra beasts jump.
Arn and Andra along with a goodly number of warriors stayed behind to make sure the offerings of wood passed safely through the mouth, the King watched as three of the massive trunks entered the tunnel but when it came to the last a loud “CRACK!” was heard. “LOOK OUT!” Andra cried as she witnessed one of the pulling chains snap, the remaining chain and the Trofars and riders attached to them began to slowly move back down the hillside.
The King did not hesitate and racing his Whiptail to the sliding tree he leaped from his saddle and landed square on the place where the iron links connected with the wooden trunk, his hand still gripped his heavy ax and with a powerful swing he struck the binding link cutting deep into the iron.
Andra knew in an instant what he was trying to do for the huge log was beginning to pick up speed as it dragged the Trofars and Outlanders backwards and into the abyss that was waiting, the Salcarie girl moved her Whiptail to where her mate continued to strike at the thick chain and seeing what she was about to do Arn called out in a loud voice.
“Away!” and waved his free hand indicating that he wanted her to turn and go.
But being who she was and knowing that two are stronger than one she ignored his orders and jumping hard she landed beside him, and immediately began hacking at the iron link with all her might. Kuno saw what was happening and signaled his Spikebacks to move around the shifting trunk, there was nothing else he could do, the tree was picking up speed and there would be no time for him to come to the aid of his friend. Again, and again Arn and Andra struck at the iron link and each time their axe’s bi
t deep for Itarian steel is far harder than deep iron but it still would take time to cut through and time was something they did not have for with each passing second the titanic tree trunk moved closer to the cliff edge.
“Leave me!” the King called out to his mate knowing that there was little use in both of them dying. “Never!” Andra replied and looking at her mate she smiled, “Together….Always!”
Isarie must have been listening for with one last blow the link parted and the huge log began to race towards the cliff edge, dust and rock filled the air along with the howling wind as the Twin Dragons jumped high into the air and landed on the ground just in time to see the wooden pillar tumble into the yawning canyon, wood cracked and splintered as it smashed against hard rock outcroppings and the sound of nesting Arrowtails could be heard as they were awakened from their slumbering, after what seemed to be forever the great tree landed at the bottom bursting into a million fragments. But there would be little rejoicing for the huge trunk pivoted on its axes and as it did it struck the Spikbacks carrying the Distrupters and they and their riders plummeted headlong into the arms of the Angel of Death.
The King stood for a time knowing that his warriors had given their lives for the tribe and bowing his head he whispered a prayer, “Grant them a place by your side in the Golden Hall and may they serve you as well as they did me”, then he turned to his mate, “You disobeyed my command” he said dryly. Andra just looked at him then smiled, “Are you going to kill me now or later?” she asked. “Let me sleep on it” the King replied.
It was sometime later that the Almadra emerged from the tunnel through the mountain and onto a wide plateau, it had been a long travel in the darkness but they sang songs to bolster their courage and their way was lit by warriors carrying Eul torches. The King and his mate were the first to see the light and in the waning golden rays Andra looked out and in the distance she saw a great expanse of lush green land and beyond that a shimmering horizon of blue green water.
“Beautiful” she said softly.
Nomads The Risen God Page 15
