by J. H. Hayes
Izyl spoke next, "What do you propose then, Dikshar? Do you have another captive we've not been made aware of?" Her tone was abrasive and disrespectful. She intentionally addressed him by his given name instead of the title he'd earned. The status of the lead Ta'araki of even the lowest camp was always higher than the Second of another. Azerban could see she immediately understood the implications of Dikshar's comments, was heartened she appeared offended by the notion.
"We have no captives," Fahim stated flatly. "Umar, I believe you had a suggestion to make."
Azerban sighed. Everything was clear now. She was forcing her snake Umar to do the dirty work. He wasn't surprised and noticed Umar seemed exceedingly agitated. He'd never thought of Fahim as cowardly, but at the moment it was the only word he could think of to describe her.
Umar began slowly, "I agree with my mentor, Dikshar. The Ta'ar require an offering of great value. It must be something that fiercely pains us to part with. Something to demonstrate our unbending fidelity, our eternal gratitude, our commitment. A sacrifice of the conventional variety may not be enough. If we are to expect the Ta'ar to return to us, we must show our dedication, our unconditional..."
Umar was beginning to ramble. Azerban thought he sounded a lot like Fahim. It was clear she had coached him - or perhaps was regurgitating the arguments she'd used to persuade him. Either way, he was stalling. Despite his willingness to carry out Fahim's plan, Azerban could see Umar wasn't totally convinced. Maybe he was having second thoughts. If even Umar was doubtful, then maybe it was not yet too late.
Fahim, detecting the other members tuning him out, interrupted, "Umar, you have stated your argument clearly and with conviction. I’m sure we’re all appreciative. Do you have a suggestion you feel appropriate?"
Umar nodded, briefly glancing at Azerban before continuing. Azerban could see beads of sweat building on his brow. "I do, Ta'araki, if you please," he said. "I believe one who is a hunter and a virgin daughter will be the only offering to properly demonstrate our sincerity. A daughter of our own will best demonstrate our deep commitment. One who is highly regarded in her own right. One who has gained her own status through her own acts."
"I propose... Azaria, daughter of... of Boar Camp."
Before he'd even finished, Izyl and Eufrat were gasping in shock. Gishim looked around confused. Hadir was beside himself. The rest of the members either stared stoically at Azerban, waiting for his response, or kept their eyes as far from him as possible.
Azerban staggered backward.
He wasn't even sure he'd actually heard Umar correctly. But the man's words echoed in his head. I propose... Azaria, daughter of... of Boar Camp.
He’d expected an unreasonable proposal, but had been sure Fahim had one of their male hunters in mind. Perhaps a young, childless man who hadn't yet tied. Or perhaps an older one, near his end. He'd even entertained the notion of Fahim suggesting himself. He'd had a great chuckle when it occurred to him. A perfect way for her to be rid of him.
But a virgin daughter? The idea hadn't even touched his mind. Who could even conceive of such an egregious, ghastly suggestion? And Azaria? His Azaria? His beautiful, innocent daughter? It was an appalling proposal. Inconceivable, corrupt, criminal.
The air had left his lungs. He was unable to respond. However, as his brain processed the information, his rage grew. An uncontrollable fury coursed through his veins.
But it was Izyl who spoke first. "Azaria? Azerban's daughter? That is outrageous!! What is this folly? A crude joke? Some sick game? How dare you make such an abhorrent suggestion, Umar? I will not stand for it!" She appeared ready to sink her claws into his face. Umar cowered. He clearly hadn't expected the attack to come from the young Fox Camp Ta'araki.
Fahim came to his rescue. "This is not an abhorrent suggestion! Or some crude game. I find it quite appropriate. And I will not allow one of us to stand here and berate another," she said, staring Izyl down. Izyl glared back with a ferocity few had seen before.
Umar straightened a little, but was still eyeing Izyl warily.
Fahim continued, "If we expect the Ta'ar to keep Their covenant with us, we must abide by our side of the agreement, no matter how unsettling. This offering will-"
"Unsettling??" Azerban roared, finally having gathered himself. He strode forward and shouted directly into her face, forcing her to fall backward. "I will not let you murder my daughter! I will kill every one of you here before I see her on the altar. And I will start with you first!" He pointed his outstretched arm directly at Fahim's chest. Fahim cringed on the mulchy, dirt floor, terrified. She scampered backward away from him, then looked from one member to the next, pleading silently for help. The other members gasped at Azerban's outburst. Even Izyl and Eufrat looked somewhat taken aback. No matter the circumstances, to threaten any member of the Ta'araki Order was an outrage, punishable by excommunication. To threaten all of them was unthinkable. Azerban's entire family could be sentenced with total exile and he could be put to death for such an infraction. No one had ever committed such a crime. It was unprecedented.
However, Azerban was a large, robust man. Each of the Ta'araki in that grove feared for their lives. Dikshar though was able to gather enough courage to approach the mighty Boar Camp Ta'araki. He knew Azerban well, had helped train him and didn't believe he would ever harm him. He put his hand on Azerban's bicep and pulled. He only intended to turn his attention away from Fahim, to give her breathing room so that she might regain her composure.
But Azerban turned on him with a fury.
He grasped the old man by the neck, lifting him from the ground, and threw him several paces, as if he were but a toy doll.
Dikshar collapsed in a heap.
Azerban pursued him, intent on snapping his neck. He stood over him, looking down, ready to do it.
He saw the terror in Dikshar's eyes, however. The forest spun. Realizing what he'd done, he understood the consequences of his actions. With great restraint he held himself and instead weighed his options. He looked over his shoulder to Fahim, who recoiled further, scared the man who was once her acolyte was about to turn back to her. She regretted her decision to not bring guards. But this congregation was too sensitive. Only the Ta'araki could hear what would be said.
Takur, intimidated by the dazzling display of physical prowess, knew Azerban was completely out of his mind with rage. He called out to Umar, who'd been inching backward, "Go get help!" Needing little encouragement, the Swan Camp Second turned to flee.
"Wait, Umar!" Azerban said. It was a command, but had a softness to it.
Umar turned and looked back at him, ready to bolt through the forest at the slightest provocation.
Azerban held his palms forward, in the common gesture of peace. "I'm... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." He turned to Dikshar. "I'm sorry, old friend. Are you hurt?" He held out a hand to help him up, which Dikshar surprisingly accepted. He then turned and addressed the rest. "I've just committed an unspeakable crime. I am shamed. I apologize to all of you, but especially to you Dikshar, and to you Ta'araki. I can only say in my defense that I was not thinking clearly and I hope, given the circumstances, you’ll be able to forgive my transgressions."
The rest of the Ta'araki stared at him, none of them responding, unsure if the large Boar Camp man's sudden calm was sincere or some ruse to ensnare them.
Although he'd brought himself under control, Azerban was terrified he would lose his daughter. He had to think quickly. He needed a delay. While the surrounding Ta'araki eyed him warily, he used the opportunity to continue, "I see the value of your words, Umar. We must make a sacrifice worthy of the Ta'ar. When you first came to me Ta'araki, and made your intentions clear, I assumed you were suggesting one of our great hunters. After all, they are our most important resource. Without them, we cannot hope to survive. But now I see, this is not enough."
He paused and slowly turned. The others were staring, still unsure what he was coming to, but more confident his first out
burst wouldn't be repeated. As he searched Izyl's expression, an idea occurred to him. It was disgraceful, but there was a chance it would work. It was Azaria's only chance. "Something precious must also be given," he continued. "There is one who fulfills both requirements, a great hunter and a virgin daughter."
"No!!" Izyl yelled out. "Azerban, you can't-"
Azerban was well aware of the special relationship between the Fox Camp Second and the orphan girl. He knew Izyl would never forgive him. He raised his voice above hers. "I suggest we sacrifice, Yumineh, daughter of Patyu, of Fox Camp."
A rush of clamorous whispers dispersed through the group, the Ta'araki turning to one another to gauge their colleagues' reactions to the unexpected proposal.
Izyl objected almost instantaneously, "No!! This is insane! How can we even consider this barbarism? I could accept sacrificing an older hunter, if he were willing. But what we are considering is inhuman. How can we do this? To force a young woman who hasn't yet experienced the great gifts of life, of tying, of pleasures, of motherhood? This is a desecration of everything we believe. It’s an affront to the Mother. And especially-"
Fahim, who had lifted herself from the forest floor, interrupted. "The Mother does not hold sway here anymore, Izyl. We are not dedicated to Her. We are children of the Ta'ar. You should know this. If you do not, you shouldn’t be here." Fahim glared at her, her eyes blazing.
Izyl gazed back just as fiercely, refusing to be intimidated. She spoke again, her voice steadied now, "We cannot do this to Yumineh. She has suffered too much already. She lost her family at an early age to tragedy - her parents, her siblings. But she endured - was strong enough to survive. She has only an aunt now. Yet she has struggled on, despite every disadvantage. Family friends turned on her, calling her cursed. She lost all status. And just as she has finally triumphed - proven her value to her people - we threaten to snatch it all away? It is not fair. It is not worthy of this Council. I will not stand for it. Yumineh is a beacon of hope, a ray of light. An inspiration to all of us. I won’t be a part of extinguishing her. If this Council does this, I will renounce my Oath."
Azerban could see his dire proposal was being considered, but that Izyl's words were causing the others to reconsider. Shame filled his heart. He knew she was making the correct argument. He should’ve been the one making it, instead of cowardly offering up another to save his own. Had he been in his right mind, he might have realized he never needed to make the suggestion in the first place. With Fox Camp's likely support and Hadir's, he held a majority of the Council. He could have blocked the sacrifice from moving forward. But his terror at the prospect of losing his beloved daughter clouded his reasoning. He wasn't able to critically think through his position, and instinctively reacted only in fear.
He was the first to answer. "It is Yumineh's past losses that make her suitable for this ritual. She has no family to mourn-"
"She has an aunt, Azerban!" Izyl spat at him.
"An old lady, a sun diminishing," Azerban argued. "Yumineh will not-"
"She has me! I love her! I watched out for her when no one else would. I made sure she survived!"
"You are not family, Izyl," Dikshar broke in. "We don’t doubt your love for her, but there is a difference." He was relieved to have Azerban's wrath averted. The young Ta'araki he could handle.
Azerban now looked at the old Swan Camp Ta'araki with utter compassion. Dikshar backs me. If Umar follows, I’ll have four. I need one other, perhaps I can persuade Gishim. Surely she will have some empathy with my position. Desperate, he attempted an emotional plea, "I am already losing Zephia. You cannot take Azaria from me. I beg you." He tried to meet Gishim's eyes, but she was looking to Izyl for guidance. She appeared confused.
"Very well," Fahim spoke before Izyl could object again. "We will count. All who favor Azerban, let your position be known!"
Azerban immediately held out his fist. Hadir stepped up next to him and shook his fist in front of him.
All eyes swept to Dikshar and Umar.
Umar looked up to his First. Dikshar's eyes met Azerban's. His chin rose and then he nodded. He held his fist out.
Umar quickly followed his lead.
Azerban's eyes next fell on Takur, who had largely been silent throughout the entire meeting. "Takur, this will kill Zephia. Please-"
"Azerban!" Fahim raged. "There is no speaking once the count has begun. You’ve already made your case."
Azerban opened his mouth to object, but Fahim cut him off. "Enough!" she wailed. "You do not understand anything. You say this will kill your mate. But Zephia is the reason we’ve been brought to this. Evil spirits have overpowered her. It is a sign of the Ta'ar's dissatisfaction with us. Food is becoming scarcer. Rivals push further into these lands. The mates of our leaders fall victim. How can you be so obtuse to our plight? We all recognize the difficulty of this decision. Someone is sure to suffer, no matter what we decide. But the greater good is at stake. We must make our decisions based on the needs of our people, as we always have, even if a few bear the brunt. The Ta'ar must return to us. The Natu will not survive without Them. This is why you’re all here."
Her eyes turned to Izyl. "Membership in this Council is not something that can be casually cast aside."
Then she turned her gaze back to Azerban. "We have all sworn an oath. And there are harsh penalties for breaking it. I do not believe Azerban's suggestion is the correct one. But I carry an added burden that none of you bear. I must also consider the effects our proclamations will have on this Council." She slowly raised her wrinkled hand and clenched her bony fingers into a tight fist. "I am with Azerban. The matter is decided."
Azerban's head fell, the breath he'd been holding expelled from his lungs. Azaria would live. But at what cost? He looked over to Izyl, who was glaring at him with a hatred he'd never imagined she was capable of. Abruptly, she looked away, staring forward. She seemed to be in the process of making a decision. Finally, she spoke, "Are there any other discussions awaiting this Council?"
Fahim answered, "Takur and I will work out the details. You are all dismissed and ordered to silence concerning this matter... but Izyl, I would talk with you."
Izyl ignored the request and stormed into the forest.
Fahim let her go. The meeting went better than she had hoped. She knew Azerban would never agree and expected the Council to side with him. As an alternate she’d planned on suggesting another young girl. But Azerban had suggested the orphan instead. She admitted she hadn’t foresaw that possibility. But now that he had, she realized it was perfect. Izyl would hate him for it. And she could draw on that tear in the future. In addition, another precedent had been set. One she could also take advantage of.
Azerban watched Izyl storm away. He didn't blame her. What he'd done was unforgivable. But what other choice did he have? He met Fahim's eye and nodded to her before leaving. Then he too pushed into the forest, stumbling as he met the dark night. His head was spinning. Ominous thoughts swirled through his mind, coming and going too quickly to fully process. One question kept reappearing. How could I? It was always met with the same response. What other choice did I have? He blundered forward, not paying attention to where he was going, not caring. Soon he was above the river, on the cliffs looking down as he trudged on. He was faintly aware he was climbing upward, but didn't really know where he was or where he was going. Not long thereafter he found himself atop High Cliff, looking over Boar Camp. Deep down, he recognized it as the spot where Azaria had turned the tide in the Long Run against Yumineh. He wondered why she'd done it. Was it so important that she win? Was he at fault for instilling that obsession with victory within her? He realized then that it was her audacious act that had caught Fahim's attention. Was it that plunge that had caused her to choose Azaria for the sacrifice? She thinks Azaria was chosen by the Ta'ar. Was that the reason?
Azerban stared down into the cool waters. He could hear the river below. Since Azaria's leap, he'd often entertained the idea of maki
ng it himself. Just to see what it would be like, flying through the air like an eagle. He peered down and could make out the shadows of craggy rocks below his feet. You'd have to get a running jump to make it past those rocks, he thought.
Then a desire to make the leap overwhelmed him. Not for the same reason as before, to know what it would be like. But because it would be so easy to squelch the overpowering guilt for what he'd done. Then he thought of Quzo, and Azaria, and the urge for an easy escape dissolved. He turned and walked away from the edge.
As he retreated, an invisible force seized him.
He turned again, took a couple running steps and jumped.
As Azerban fell, wondering what other horror he'd just achieved, he came to an understanding.
If the Ta'ar blame me for taking Yumineh's life, then let Them take me instead.
And if they don't, I'll find a way to go on.
---
On the morning before the Autumnal Equinox, Izyl had a plan. With it, she knew she risked expulsion from the Ta'araki Order and perhaps even exile, but she had to do what she knew to be right. Every beat of her heart told her she was right. She had no doubts - it was the others who were wrong. Horrifyingly wrong, but she couldn't worry about that anymore. She hadn't slept that night at all, knowing she had to do something. She had to warn Yumineh before the Ta'araki acted. She sat inside her tent, holding the leather flaps slightly ajar so she could watch when the proud girl left her aunt’s tent. She suspected Fahim had someone watching at least one of them. She couldn't help that. It was a risk, but she had little choice.
When Yumineh finally emerged, she followed her to the river, to the private spot where she knew Yumineh preferred to bathe. Then she pulled off her tunic and swam out to meet her. It was as secluded a spot as she could hope to safely confront her in.
"Yumineh," she called.
Yumineh turned. "Izyl! How are-" she started.
