The UnFolding Collection Two

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The UnFolding Collection Two Page 60

by S. K. Randolph


  I clear my throat and begin. “Narrtep, please wait outside.” When I know he has left but remains near, I turn my head to the two men. “Speak your piece that the council may judge your need.”

  Gilamn growls and pounds the table. “You are not fit to lead or to judge us, Breaker of Desert Law.”

  “Calm yourself, Gilamn.” ReNacc’s voice sounds gruff. He pauses before continuing. “The foreigner interfered in a fight between my grandson and Narrtep. The behavior is unacceptable. He also takes up the time of the Oracle. She breaks Atrilaasu law by teaching him the ancient ways. He does not belong here. We want him banned from Eissua, and WoNadahem Mardree replaced as Headwoman and Oracle.”

  Elo squeezes my shoulder, a sign that she will speak in my stead since this matter involves me. “Gilamn, please explain the reason for your fight with Narrtep and how the High DiMensioner interfered.”

  Tesi, my snake, slithers to my shoulder and provides a hissed description of Gilamn’s rage as he stands.

  “Narrtep refused to allow me to see the Oracle. When he did not move aside, I tried to step around him. Suddenly the High DiMensioner arrived, and I could not move. I did nothing to deserve such an insult. He had no right to interfere—no right to place me in a trance.”

  SuNev, another member of the council, speaks up. “Why did Narrtep refuse to let you into WoNa’s cave.”

  Gilamn huffs an indignant response. “He gave no reason.”

  ReNacc begins to speak. Elo cautions him. “Your silence is appreciated.” I feel her attention return to Gilamn. “Were you hurt by the High DiMensioner?”

  “He…”

  “Take care, Gilamn. We will also question Narrtep and if necessary, we will speak with Wolloh Espyro as well.”

  Gilamn is like a raging drango. He slams his chair to the ground and stamps toward the exit.

  “If you leave, your petition is forfeit.” Elo’s voice is stern.

  Gilamn does not stop. His footsteps vibrate in the sand long after he is gone.

  I hear ReNacc stand. “May I speak?” he asks.

  “We must hear from Narrtep first.” Elo sits down, her hand on my arm.

  Narrtep is summoned to tell his story. “When Gilamn demanded a meeting with WoNa, she was in a session with the High DiMensioner. I asked Gilamn to come back later. He tried to shove me aside. I stood my ground. He threw a punch, which I intercepted. Wolloh appeared at the cave entrance. Again, Gilamn demanded to see WoNa. The High DiMensioner explained that he would be leaving by mid-time and that WoNa would then be available. Gilamn’s anger blinded him to whom he was addressing. He tried to shove him aside. Wolloh simply raised a hand. Gilamn stopped mid-stride a lost look on his face. The High DiMensioner told me that he had placed him in a trance from which he would awaken when he reached his tent. He asked me to escort him home. ReNacc was there when we arrived. Gilamn woke from the trance and began to scream at his grandfather. I returned to the cave.”

  SuNev cleared her throat. “I would like to hear from ReNacc.”

  A seat moved and shuffled steps brought him to the table. “I must apologize for my grandson. It is clear that he has lied. He obsesses about WoNa’s involvement with the High DiMensioner. When I try to explain that their shared teaching only benefits the Atrilaasu, his anger burns with even more heat. I do not know what to do.” He paused. “WoNadahem Mardree, I withdraw my petition to have you removed from your place of honor. I hope you can forgive the ignorance of an old man.”

  “I can forgive a man who loves his grandson, ReNacc. Gilamn is lucky to have you.”

  Elo stands beside me. “Now, we as a council we must decide what is best for the people where Gilamn is concerned. This is not his first offense, ReNacc. Narrtep will fetch you when a consensus has been reached.”

  The heaviness in ReNacc’s step as he leaves tells of his resignation and his sadness. Narrtep follows, leaving the council to do its work.

  SuNev is the first to speak. “Gilamn’s behavior sets a bad example for the younger Dansboys. I fear it will only become worse.”

  It is clear from the discussion that follows that the council is duty bound to punish behavior unbefitting an Atrilaasu. Not only has Gilamn lied on several occasions, he has also stolen from others and beaten two young men to the point of injury. The punishment is decided. A vote is taken. It is unanimous. Narrtep is sent to bring Gilamn and ReNacc to the council tent.

  The scuffling of feet announces their arrival. “The council can’t tell me what to do.” Gilamn’s belligerent statement is underscored with fear.

  Elo tells me that two men have ushered him inside and hold him in check. ReNacc stands beside them. She quietly describes his shame and sorrow before she stands.

  “Gilamn, son of Toagamn and grandson of ReNacc, for behavior unbefitting an Atrilaasu, you are hereby banned from the tribe for one complete sun cycle, after which you may petition for reinstatement. During your banishment, you must find ways to do good work and to master your temper. You may collect what you need. Please be gone from Eissua before the sun sets behind the outcropping at the end of this turning. You are excused.

  Silence fills the tent with his departure. It is a sad time for all of us. No Dansman wishes to see another banned.

  Narrtep guides me back to my cave. We pause at the entrance and listen to the waterfall’s rhythmic descent. Footsteps pound toward us. My friend tenses. “Gilamn comes this way, WoNa. Go inside.”

  I shake my head. “Let him have his say, Narrtep. He cannot hurt me with you by my side.”

  The steps stop. Panted breathing tells me of all the anger this young man holds.

  “Don’t think you have seen the last of me, WoNadahem Mardree. I will train as a DiMensioner. And when I am strong and powerful, I will be back. Not even Wolloh Espyro will be able to protect you then.”

  He storms away, then stops. He throws words like poison darts. “Because of you, I am no longer Atrilaasu. I hate you, WoNadahem Mardree. I will see you die.”

  The coolness of dusk brushed WoNa’s cheek. A small fire crackled in the fire pit. She glanced up from her journal. Quiet breathing told her that Narrtep still sat across from her. “Oh, my dear friend, I did not mean to ignore you for so long. The sun has set. Gilamn has left the oasis. Go. Have some supper with your family. I will be fine.”

  Narrtep crossed the cave. “I will check on you after we eat.” Retreating footsteps left the cave quiet.

  Tesi whistled a strident note.

  “The turning has been long, dear one. I will eat, and then we shall rest.”

  Moving about the cave with the ease of one long used to its function, she fixed a simple meal. Sadness for the Gilamn made her walk to the cave entrance and step out under the first of DerTah’s three moons. Although she could not see the saffron orb, she sensed its presence. By its light, she sent a message into the night. “Gilamn, I wish you the challenges that will help you become the man you have the potential of being.”

  Narrtep joined her. “Let’s hope he chooses good companions.”

  She sighed. “Thank you for your friendship, Narrtep. I don’t know how I would manage without you.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Sleep well, WoNadahem Mardree. I will see you beneath the morning’s sun.”

  She returned to her cave and lay awake for some time, reviewing the events of the turning until she dropped into a deep slumber. Dreams wove a web of terror around her. Heaviness weighted her body. A rough hand covered her mouth. A strong arm trapped her, pressing against her chest until she felt her breath leaking away.

  “You think you are too good for the likes of me.”

  Fighting against the currents of terror that shot through her, she swam to waking. Strong legs squeezed her hips. A hand fumbled at the neck of her sleeping gown. Liquored-breath filled her nostrils. Slobber dripped on her face. He licked it away and kissed her roughly. A tongue forced its way into her mouth. She fought to turn her face away. Sharp teeth bit her lip. Anger erased her fear.
Her mind filled with one word “Wolloh.” A hand slapped her. “Some Oracle you are.” Another slap burned her cheek. Her mind screamed. “Wolloh. Help!”

  A soft whoosh and the weight lifted from her. The attacker howled in surprise as he flew through the air. The crack of his head hitting the wall vibrated in the small space. The thump of his body on the ground brought a sob of relief.

  Tesi hissed, its tongue flicking her cheek. More sobs engulfed her.

  Gentle arms gathered her up and held her close. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” Wolloh’s voice filled her, calmed her, and gladdened her aching heart. He let her cry until no more tears rolled down her cheeks and her body ceased its shaking.

  “Gilamn? I hear no movement…no breath.” she whispered.

  “I fear I may have killed him, WoNa.”

  A rush of footsteps paused at her entryway. “WoNa, are you alright? May I come in?”

  Wolloh answered. “Narrtep, come quickly.”

  “Wolloh! How?” WoNa felt Narrtep's astonishment and then his fear. He knelt in front of her. His gasp of dismay made her reach for him. “Who?” His hands trembled as they squeezed hers.

  Wolloh indicated Gilamn’s motionless form. “Please check him, Narrtep.”

  A rustle of cloth and then silence. “He cracked his head open. His heart lays quiet in his chest.”

  “Please fetch Elo,” Wolloh said. “WoNa needs a woman’s help.”

  “Of course. I’ll hurry.”

  The High DiMensioner held her closer. “I heard your call and came—something you can always count on as long as we both exist.”

  Her fingers caressed his withered check. “Wolloh, do you wish to go? The people may not understand.”

  “I would rather face them now. Without my explanation of this tragedy, the council might ban me from Eissua forever. I want them to know the depth of my feelings for you and them.”

  “But…”

  “WoNa, when they see your face and hear our stories, they will understand.”

  The sound of Elo entering the cave ended their conversation. Distress filled the elder’s voice. “WoNa, are you hurt?”

  “I-I don’t think so.”

  Wolloh released her into the wise woman’s care. “I’ll be outside.”

  He step drag softened and disappeared. Emptiness drowned her heart. A tear formed in the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek.

  Elo touched her hand. “Gilamn didn’t…”

  WoNa shook her head. “Wolloh arrived before—” A shudder trembled through her. “He teleported here when I called. He didn’t mean to kill Gilamn, only to protect me.” Another tear traveled the side of her nose. “Will the council ban him?”

  Elo put an arm around her. “How could they, my dear? In a way, Wolloh has made the job of the council easier. By Atrilaasu law, Gilamn’s attack on you meant he would have faced death by the hand of your male protector. At least Narrtep need not carry that burden.”

  Silence settled over the two women. Elo broke it. “You realize, dear WoNa, the High DiMensioner loves you?”

  “Oh, Elo.” Tears careened down her cheeks. “He c-c-can’t love me. Those who do die or disappear.”

  “My dearest WoNa, life has taught you some harsh lessons, but don’t turn away from love because you are afraid of losing it. Embrace it, hold it close, and revel in it. You have felt its loss. Now it is time for you to feel instead its presence.” She kissed her bruised cheek. “You must rest. I will assemble the council and inform ReNacc. I am glad Gilamn’s parents have already passed, or their hearts would break.”

  Her footsteps died away. Wolloh limped to her side. “I can wait outside or remain with you. What is your wish?”

  WoNa reached for his hand. Fear of losing him rode her like a wild desert rohes. She reined it in and gave him a watery smile. “Please stay with me, High DiMensioner od DerTah.”

  Wolloh remained at Eissua until she had regained her strength and her sense of well-being. When business at Shu Chenaro called, he left with the promise that he would return soon. WoNa sat alone for the first time in many turnings. She ran her fingers around the edges of her personal journal. It seemed a long time since she had shared her thoughts. Her heart ached for Wolloh’s presence as she picked up the osprey quill and dipped it into the ink pot. Calmness settled over her.

  I am in love. How can I even write these words? My fear, so long ingrained, fades in the presence of a man who has claimed me as his own. He does not fear that my presence in his life will bring misfortune to either of us. Instead, he is steadfast in his belief that our love can only enrich our existence. Today he has returned to his home. But…he has made it clear that I am the love of his life. He understands that I have responsibilities that keep me at Eissua. I understand he is needed at Shu Chenaro. Time apart will not dampen our feelings for each other.

  I ask myself why this man—the High DiMensioner od DerTah? My heart smiles. I love his intelligence, the depth of his talent, his resolve to be all that he can be. Most of all I love the man: his goodness, his gentleness, the sorrow he holds close to his heart. I love that he loves me. And so, as much as I want to run, I want to stay—to hold him in my arms, to hear his voice every turning of my life, and to let him know through my love that he is all that I could ever want. He asks if I am offended by his disfigurement. I smile and kiss his withered cheek. “What care I for how you look,” I reply. “Do you care that I cannot see?” He holds me close. His wounded lips kiss mine with such gentle passion that all I can do is respond. We are well matched. I thank the desert spirits for bringing him into my life.

  The soft swish of wings and the step drag of his limp alerted her that he had finished his business at Shu Chenaro. She closed the journal and laid the osprey quill beside it. Life’s lessons would continue. Turning toward the cave entrance, she smiled.

  “Hello, my dear.” Wolloh’s finger brushed her cheek.

  end of

  Lessons

  UnFolding 10

  Wanted

  UnFolding 11

  Companion Short

  (novelette)

  Fantasy Fiction

  The UnFolding

  by

  S.K. Randolph

  Copyright © 2015-2018 by S.K. Randolph

  CheeTrann Creations LLC

  11UF-V-29+i

  Wanted

  I n the city of Idronatti on the planet of Thera, a frantic manhunt was in full swing. PPP patrollers shed the ritualistic behavior required by the Peoples Plan Protectors, dressed in riot gear, and marched briskly along both sides of the city’s streets.

  The target of their hunt hunkered lower. Booted feet marched within inches of his hiding place. The clank of weapons against body armor rattled in his ears. The anticipation of men after prey washed over him. Tugging his uniform hat lower, Davin Farlow ceased to breathe―thought only of becoming the shadow that served as his cover. When the sound of pounding feet began to fade, he exhaled and watched uniformed backs round a distant corner.

  Da’am my temper . He eased to standing. I wouldn’t be in this mess if I’d stayed away from Idronatti.

  He glanced up and down the empty avenue. A quick sprint brought him once again into the shade between buildings. Hugging the wall, he made his way to the next street. A group of uniformed citizens moved his direction, their faces blank and their pace the prescribed rhythm dictated by the PPP. He stepped into their midst and matched his stride to their pedantic march. His goal, the Onom Lira Station, came into view. He stifled his desire to hurry and casually merged onto the crowded platform.

  At an early age, he had discovered his ability to blend in. Unaware of how he did it or even sometimes when, he learned to trust his instincts. He didn’t think about it now; he just leaned against the wall near the PPP Security Office, knowing no one would notice him. A glance in the window gave him a glimpse of his picture on the V-Screen and the word WANTED printed in large block letters above it. He curbed the agitation growling in his gut
and stepped back into the crowd.

  With his thoughts focused on not being noticed, he made his way to the end of the train. From the shadows of a storage facility, he watched workmen load the last three cars. When the final box was in place, a whistle announced time to board. Workmen and passengers merged in a controlled flurry of bodies in motion. He slipped through the crowd into the end car and found a dark corner. With luck he would be in the Central Mountains by early the following sun turning.

  The doors closed. A quiet hum vibrated through the train. He twisted and turned until he found a comfortable position and then let his mind traipse through the events of the past few sun cycles.

  Stupidity had landed him in Tower Five of the Five Towers, Idronatti’s detention and incarceration center. Two PPP patrollers had stopped him on the street, and one of them had shoved him around. Anger overrode the need for caution. He’d punched the patroller in the face. Physical violence, especially involving a PPP official, meant Tower Five. For him, a runaway citizen who had slipped through Idronatti’s tight web of security at the age of twelve, a life sentence would be mandatory. This wasn’t the first time his temper had gotten him in trouble.

  Clad only in undershorts and prison shoes, he stood in the middle of the small cell with his mouth downturned in a scowl that pulled the scar on his right cheek taut. At twenty-five, he was slender but well built…not too tall, but not short either. He had been showered and shaved and scrubbed until his skin burned. The memory of his shoulder length hair in a pile on the floor brought a spark of rage to hazel eyes rimmed with dark lashes. Yet, he knew neither the scar nor the hair cut robbed his face of its handsome elegance.

  He wrinkled his nose. The cell smelled and looked as sterile as a healing center—sterile to the point of obsession like everything else in the city of Idronatti. The light gray walls and ceiling contained no windows, no decorations of any kind. The slate gray floor, polished to a glossy shine, reflected the light from one overhead fixture. A cot with bedding in a neat stack at the foot, stood on one side of the narrow room, and a pristine, metal commode occupied the corner opposite the door.

 

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