The Arms of the Watcher

by r. a. Ben Miller

  Chapter 8; Jin

  As the day wore on the women fanned out farther and farther from the camp. One the youngest ones, on her first hunt was named Jin. She was the youngest of Kal's daughters. She had little luck and was hot and tired. In the shade of a scrub bush she turned to gaze at the Watcher. From childhood she had been taught not to look at the Watcher with her eyes, but with her soul.

  In the shimmering heat she squinted at the far off rock. A hazy image of a face came to her out of focus. Under these conditions, the face of the Watcher was plain to see. Rocky irregularities became wrinkles on the forehead and well-placed bushes became eyebrows. Twin caves were spaced midway down the face. She knew these to be the home of the Watchman and his mate. From this distance, they looked just like deep set eyes. The last part of the image was a smooth flow of stone running down between the caves that made a nose. No mouth was seen, but the People knew when he spoke. Huge cracks would form in the sand for miles around, and the ground would rumble and shake for hours.

  On either side of the nose, two small streams trickled down to a pool in the base of the rock. Because of certain angles of stone, the water of the streams and most of the pool stayed in the shadow of the Watcher’s head all day. This kept the water as cold as it could be. This coolness made a great contrast to the steaming hot pools that bubbled up from deep beneath the caverns. Both pools were especially valued as the People tried to survive the burning desert that surrounded Tear Wadi.

  Jin looked around at the rock formation of more flowing stone. It went out either side from the head, out and around to form almost a circle nearly a half mile across. Because from afar off the stone looked like shoulders, the People called these out croppings of stone the arms of the Watcher. Jin knew that these shoulders provided additional shade and wind protection for the tents and the animals of the People. They always camped within this protection to stay near the sweet water that created Tear Wadi.

  She remembered the fire side tales told of how many years ago, her ancestors had carefully brought date palms, rice, and other desert plants to the pool. These had grown into a verdant tiny paradise on either side of the shoulder’s shade. Over the years, the people had dug the pool out wider and flatter to grow the rice that the Watchman and his family needed to live on while the People were away at their other trades.

  The wind whipped a dust devil across her line of sight to break her concentration. With a shake, she returned to her work, shuffling among the other women, staring and searching among the tan rocks in the burning sand for the hidden treasures that would make their year in the Great City good or bad.

  Then she saw him. First, she saw his red hair contrasted against the gray stone of the Watcher’s face. For some reason, Lar took this moment to join with the Watcher to look out to judge the look of the People. He closed his eyes and the eyes of the Watchman took over. In an instant, he could clearly see the girl who was looking at him. The shape and the color of hair was familiar and his heart pained him so much that he almost broke the connection.

  The shape of the face was too familiar to him. He was moved by her lythe body. He watched her as she moved. Something stirred within him that he thought had been many years dead. Lar decided to wath this young woman. He told himself that perhaps he might discover the source of the Watcher’s interest in her. Of immediate interest to Lar, she was also looking at him just then.

  He saw her jump. "Back to work you lazy girl... Do you think these tears will gather themselves?" A switch struck her backside. Although most of the blow was absorbed by her clothes, Jin spun around to look at the woman attached to the switch. Lar recognized her assailant as Kal’s current mate, Mav.

  She attempted to ignore the woman. “Jin..? Do not attempt to ignore me. “

  “Jin…” Lar said to himself, “Han had a baby sister named Jin. Could this lovely woman be that child from his past?”

  He returned his interest to Jin and Mav, Jin’s father's new woman. Lar knew from stories the animas between them. Gossipers ahd told him that Jin would not call Mav her father's mate. Some whisperers said that Mav was barely older than Jin. Many people said she was a witch. She was always looking for an excuse to punish Jin.

  Just then, Lar saw a small boy ran up and pull on the older woman’s skirts. It was Tun, Mav's new boy child. Her attention immediately turned to the needs of her beloved son. Testing the patience of her husband’s daughter was forgotten.

  Jin shook her head and walked away. Lar was reminded of Tun’s first moments. As the Watch Man, Lar had peeked into the women’s tent on the day of Tun’s borning. He had the manly good sense to skip the hours of screaming and crying. Lar watched as Mav sat propped up by many clean pillows, her hair a mantle of sweat. She beamed proudly as Kal was ushered into the sacred place. With a clean knife, he cute the cord tied in ribbons sticking out from the baby’s abdomen. He held the shivering boy child high over his head. The women in the tent applauded.

  Kal stroked the baby’s head. He leaned in to whisper to the mother, “What shall I give Thee on this borning day.”

  She batted her long eye lashes at him, “I wish to be your only woman. Zet must go.”

  He pulled back, shocked, “W.. what..?”

  She pulled him back close by the front of his robes, looking at Kal with feverish intent. She got her mouth right next to his ear so that the women in the borning tent would not hear her plea, “I took Thee into my bed. I gave Thee the prized boy child that you desired for your heir.”

  “Yes… Yes you did.”

  “Now…I wish only this tiny thing.”

  The rest of the story had cometo Lar from the gossipers. The stories were told how Kal had left Mav’s tent in consternation. He requested an immediate consultation with the Saddushan, the Keepers of the Rote. Tyl, the Head Saddush, met with him by the pool in the shade of a date palm. The Saddush was popping newly dried dates into his mouth between words. He sat and chewed as the old man poured out his story. “Okay…go over to your tent. I will think on this.

  Jin was serving her father a cool drink when a boy came, “Tear Master…the Saddush wishes to speak at you.”

  Kal had hurried to the pool to sit before the judge. The judge was washing his face and hands with a cool cloth. Kal sat patiently until the Saddush was ready to speak. Finally, the larger man turned his attention to Kal, “I have decided.”

  “And…”

  “Don’t be impatient…I say…” With a pause for dramatic effect and sweeping gesture of his right arm, “Yes… she is within her right to ask this thing.”

  “Really..?”

  “Yes… When a woman delivers a boy child of a man…” He popped a date into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

  “You mean my new son, Tun..?”

  “Yes…Okay… of course…Tun.”

  Kal nodded, “Hmmmm.”

  “And that man’s other woman has born no males…” The Saddush paused to eat another date.

  “Yes…yes???”

  “By the Rote, you are allowed and perhaps, even obliged to take the boy’s mother into your tent as your first woman.”

  That settled it. Lar was told that Kal had taken Mav as his main woman and sent Jin's mother, Zet, to the widow's tent. To his love addled brain, the Rote told him that this problem was Zet’s own fault. By only birthing daughters, Zet had failed both him and the tribe. She had really caused this herself, he told himself. She had failed to give me my male heir. She had forced me to divorce her in this way and to take another mate for myself. Who would carry my line forward. He had convinced himself that his actions were vindicate.

  Lar turned his attention back to Jin. He watched her slowly pick her way toward a group of widows. While everyone else was at the funeral, they had used the cool hours of early morning to set up a tent to rest in during the heat that would come later. It was thread bare and homely, but its shade would be a healthy place for the oldest women to rest in from time to time. It was pitched at the farthest o
utside edge of the arms, near a small pool of water. The life of a widow among the People was a hard life, but, by making use of their experience and wits, they could continue to survive.

  Jin looked at Mav. Lar knew that by contrast, the life of the Tear Master’s wife was as easy as a widow’s life was hard. Since Mav knew she would receive a portion of any stone that any one found, she only made a show of hunting. Jin was glad that today had turned up sunny and hot. Mav’s innate laziness fed her lack of interest in abusing Jin. Lar was amused as the younger woman hurried away from the whiny voice as if she had heard nothing. Tun took off in another direction. Chasing Tun, Mav seemed to forget all about annoying the younger girl any farther.

  Lar watched as Jin identified her mother. Lar saw that Zer was in a small group of widows searching among the picked over areas where they were allowed to look. Lar imagined that Jin must miss her mother very much. But, with the help of the Law, her father's act was final. Nothing could bring Zet back into the camp but a remarriage and this was unlikely. Mav was young and liked her life in the Tear Master’s tent.

  Zet had another path back into camp life, but with out a son, there was no chance. Old people without tears or animals went to live in the tents of their oldest son. Usually, if the man or woman was difficult to live with, that son would pay some tears or animals to buy a mate to care for them. She kicked a rock, “If I’d only been a son, she could have lived with me.” Then, she looked, the rock turned out to be a rather large tear. This potentially rich stone would have been enough to end her search. She almost held the tear up and was all prepared to give the yululuing call that signaled a major find.

  But, in a stroke of genius, Lar noticed that she remained silent. Now, he was truly interested in what might happen next. Lar knew that, by remaining silent, Jin could steer the result of this find. He was guessing that by the stern set of her jaw and the daggers she was shooting out of her eyes as she watched her step mother chase er little brother. He guessed that Mav would not even know about this jewel.

  All of the small tears that she had found all day were now forgotten. This huge rock went into her pocket as a gift for her mother. Acting nonchalant, she slowly made her way toward the area she had last seen her mother. Occasionally she would catch a glimpse of the widows hobbling far out away from the Watcher where tears were few and dangers greater from desert gas bubbles.

  She knew this tear would change her mother’s life. Usually, the tiny tears that the widows found did not pay for trinkets, but to buy their food for the year ahead. If it was a bad year of searching, the widows’ life grew proportionately harder.

  Jin passed near her mother and dropped all of the littler stones in her mother’s path, “Here, mother…these will ease your day.”

  Her mother bent and picked up the stones, “Bless you baby girl. I love Thee.”

  “And I love Thee…”

  “Mother take a slow turn and meet me inside the resting tent.”

  “Why, dear one?”

  “Please!?!” Jin replied, ignoring the question. She kept walking. Lar watched her make a slow circle of the picking field and entered the resting tent. Lar watched her mother pick up the small tears and follow quickly. Jin was glad to see that the tent was empty. He saw her sit in the shaded.semi darkness. Captured by her beauty, he watched her as she unwrapped her burqa from her head and shoulders to wait for her mother.

  He watched her turn the stone in her small hands as she waited. Her searching was done for today. This stone was a year’s work. She knew how much her mother would need this gift. She held her stone up to the Watcher, “Thank you Watcher…for these Thy blessings.”

  Her mother came in unwrapping the layers of gauze of her head coverings, “What could be…so… impor… tant? Aiya, daughter, you are holding a sultan’ s ransom! “

  “No, mother…It is your ransom. It is a bride price for you to return to the camp.”

  “I cannot take this. You found it.”

  “If I take this to my father, Mav will use her witch craft to take it and keep it for herself. If that happens, neither of us will have a bride price.”

  Tears of pride flowed down the old woman’s face. Just then, they heard the blast from a ram’s horn. Everyone around them stopped also for midday repast. Soon, the tent would be full. “You must go, child.” She knew that Jin was required to have all the food and drink ready when Mav brought her royal self in to eat at her husband’s side.

  They hugged fiercely and she left, headed out to her father’s tent. Zet waited until her daughter had gone, then poured fresh blood into a huge bowl. She placed all of the tears in the bowl. She covered it with a bit of shawl and placed it in the corner of the tent where it would go unnoticed. She spread a blanket on the center of the floor and spread bowls of fruit and breads that had been prepared earlier for this meal. When the others were sleeping, she prepared her daughter’s finds. She had a plan.

  When Jin had completed her father’s meal, she left. She knew how painful it was to watch them eat together as a happy family. It would sicken her if she had to watch that woman feed her son and her father as if they were both children fed from her magic hands. She heard Mav calling for her, but she had years of practice ignoring that woman. She slipped between tents and escaped like a ghost.

  She found a quiet corner of shade under a bush. She ate alone in the safety of her hide out. While in there, the horn blew for the afternoon nap. She shrugged, “The Watcher blesses,” she tittered into her hands. Kiv had decided that over whelming heat meant that the hunting was too dangerous and the women were done for today. She found that she was surprisingly tired from her labors in the sun. She slept for several hours. Waking, she stretched.

  Climbing to her feet, she headed for a quiet wash in one of the hot pools on the women’s side of the camp. Tall, clever cloth and stick walls made an area of privacy that the women needed. Just before she slipped inside, she saw through the bushes between them, the Watchman heading across the camp toward the widow’s tent. All thoughts of bathing her feet were forgotten. She took a parallel path to follow him. She could see that hidden in his robes was a large volume of foodstuffs. She smiled at his generosity. She continued following at a safe distance behind him. She ducked from one tent corner to another.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She loved his soft curls, his strong hands clutching the bounty that he carried to both her and his mother who lived together among the widows. He left the camp and she had to stop at the last tent. She sat in the shadow and ate a crust of bread from her pockets, waiting for his return.