The Arms of the Watcher

by r. a. Ben Miller

  Chapter 13 Two Crazy Years

  They set off on their journey back. Leaves were already turning and first fall would be soon. For several weeks they hurried. When they reached the wagons, they turned them around and rode as fast as the draft animals could go to get to the well. They arrived just as the people were beginning to gather. Kal had arrived only the same morning.

  As story of the result of the blood quest became known, Kal’s camp decided to throw a huge party to honor the passage into manhood of the young warriors. Piles of meat and platters of rice were enjoyed by the camp. Later, Lar went off by himself to answer the call of nature.

  When he was coming back out of the darkness, a small female form hurtled herself at him. They rolled into the soft leaves of a small hidden clearing, “You brute… you absolute pig!”

  He laughed as he pinned her arms so that she would stop pounding him. “Why… Han… It is so nice to see you.” She had grown into a womanly beauty while he had been gone.

  She punched him in his rock hard stomach, almost knocking the wind out of him. “You should be shot!”

  He gathered himself, holding her arms to keep himself safe, “I didn’t think you were ever going to speak to me again.”

  “I’m not speaking to you. If you let me go, I will continue beating the crap out of you.” She said struggling to free her arms.

  “I see…”

  “Let me go, you bastard… I’ll make sure that you never see anything again…”

  This filled him with laughter. He raised his head and howled his derision into the night sky. He held her easily with one hand. She was amazed at how much stronger he had become in the past two years. He knew it was due to the hardships endured in his last hunt. Taking advantage of his laughter, she twisted her hips and threw him off her.

  In a quick move, she leaped atop him. He lay still and silent. “Okay,” he said, “I surrender…Thee are much more dangerous than that stupid blood cat. I cannot fight thee.”

  She dropped her head to his chest and cried. He held her until her sobbing slowed. Muffled into his chest, she said, “Why did you leave me…not a word…three moons… then two moons ago, they brought those men back and I was so frightened for you. “ She cried some more.

  “There, there, Han… I was in little danger.”

  “Oh, right, you lying pig…” She wiped her eyes on his shirt sleeve, “I saw those men who came back from the first fight… One will never walk right again and two of them nearly dead… and the men from the second fight… They were awful…”

  “True…but they were careless…”

  “Liar…”

  “Silly female.”

  She crossed her arms and turned her back, “Tin is a wonderful hunts man…” She tossed her curls, “I had even considered mating with him…When you did not return…”

  He grabbed her and turned her to look at him straight in the face, “Stop…that’s enough… stop teasing…”

  “Teasing?”

  “Enough…this is a game I will not play…”

  “Game?”

  “Game, wench…Look, I had a lot of time to think on the Quest. I can’t live without you. You must choose me.”

  “No more blood hunts?”

  “No more flirting with other men?”

  She put her hand out, “Deal.”

  “Deal.” He left her there in the dark. He went immediately to see the Shiree. He had traded the old hag taloned gloves of the Blood Cat to pledge his troth for him to Kal. The banns said that he could neither see nor speak to Han until the wedding was set. As soon as he arrived at his home, his mother gave him the blood red tear for her Bride Price.

  At the end of the first night’s gathering, Lar had made the three circles and the pledge. Upon receipt of the tear, Kal had given her freely. As a wedding present, Lar gave Han the jacket made from the Blood Cat skin. When they were alone, Han told Lar that she would have gone with him for small desert flower. Kal gave them a small tent and his parents gave them some cook pots. They began their life together the very day.

  For several years, they had enjoyed each other by day and by night. She had never turned from his love nor failed to return it. She must have known her future would include years of solitude in this old rock. She said nothing as they laughed and played their way through the sylvan years of their early life. Lar still went on hunts, but wild boar was the meanest animals he would face.

  She was always thinking of him first and of herself second. Whether he was sitting by the side of Kal at the trading time or running through the Dark Woods with Kiv or his father on long hunts, she had never wavered. He had but to look her way and she would smile in a way that had filled him with light and set his love blazing.

  Then, it happened. She waited until he returned from a long hunt with Kiv. She met him with the saddest eyes he had ever seen. He ran to her, “What is it, love?”

  She had said nothing, handing him a scroll. It read that his father, the old Watch man, had died. They were in the middle of the Away Time. Hunting and trading, these weeks had been the happiest days in the Peoples' year. Now, for Lar and Han, it would end. His father’s death meant that he became the Watchman and she must go with him to that solitary life.

  He sat down hard and had simply looked at Han. Without hesitation, she nodded. A funeral party was formed. Kiv’s father gave them a cart and several animals. Kiv, Dal, and two others packed their tents. They headed deep into the Dark Woods in preparation for the return to the sacred mountain for this funeral. Piles of wood were needed for the necessary fire.

  He went to see Kiv, “How can I do this to her?”

  “What are you babbling about?”

  “There has never been a question about my destiny or my path.”

  “Right.”

  “The Watchman is my family's trust and my clear path. I have trained for it since birth.”

  “Truth,.. known by all…”

  “Now, how can I ask her to join me inside of that sacred mountain, to see her friends and family only a couple of weeks every year. To live alone?”

  He blood brother laughed. He took the smaller man by both arms and shook him like a doll, “You are as nutty as a Gathering Feast cake…I dare you to try and keep her from your life… She would end that life for you and we would be looking for another Watch man.”

  He hugged his best friend, “Thankee, brother…Thee are going to be a great chief some day.”

  “Not too soon, I hope…let us be about your father’s journey to the great beyond.”

  “Aiya…” They caught up with the others and joined their women. Kiv had married the day after Lar. The next day, they gathered the piles of scented sticks and piled them on the pack animals. That evening he and Han had slept, arm in arm, in the cool woods.

  He turned to her in the glow of the stars, “I will love Thee forever.” She smiled and snuggled in closer.

  The next morning, they headed through the foggy low lands out past the Last Well. There, they watered their animals, filled their bags, and headed into the Great Desert, following the old, well worn trails. From all across the lands, the People gathered to the arms of the Watcher to send the old Watchman on the star lit trail to Paradise. Bel Al’s father came from the far side of the desert.

  High above, on the windswept plateau above the Watcher’s head, Lar and his friends and family brought Lar’s father’s corpse. Scented wood and fragrant oils were piled and poured all around the Watchman's body. Beautiful flowers were brought by the lines of people, their sons and their daughters and their sons and their daughters. The line passed slowly all day until the pile of wood and flowers was taller than the tallest men. The lines wound around their departing Watch Man and back down to kneel in the sand at the bottom.

  Lar stepped forward to bless and light the fire. As the flames caught among the flowers and dried wood, the song was sung about the life of his father. It drifted up from the People below. Tears of joy and sadness streamed down the
faces of the People as the old man went his way.

  Lar was not the eldest son, but, he had been the chosen child. The mantle of vision fell to him because he was the one, of all of the watch man’s sons, who could see what the Watcher saw. Even as a small boy, he would sit in the chair deep in the bowels of the mountain, with his eyes closed, and tell his father what the Watcher saw.

  Han knew nothing of that. Still she knew what he needed. She left him sitting by the cooling fire that evening. As he sat there, she began to move their belongings up into the caves where they would live. Later that evening, she had led him down the ancient steps to begin his new life.

  Han had loved their life deep in the cool caves of the Watcher. They had spent that first year quite happily. She loved the cool evenings when they would reread the old stories or copying new ones into the books. Then, one morning she had laid her hand gently on his shoulder as he wrote at the old stone desk deep in the right eye. "Lar, I am with child."

  What a nascent year that had been! She had grown larger and some how managed to look smaller. She became too unwieldy to go up and down the steps. When the People had left for the away time, his mother had not gone with the widows. Lov and Han shared a tent nestled in the constant shade of the Watcher’s head. When it was cold, they moved the tent to the edge of the hot pool. Han’s mother and sisters had also stayed behind in their own tent. Sadly, it was also this time when Mav, serving in Han’s mother’s place, had set her sights on a rich life in Kal’s tents.

  He worked and watched as he was called to do. In the evenings, meals were by the pool and stories were read or told. Han was brave, but, her life was not well. On the same day that Kal lead the People home for gathering time, the pains started. Han was moved to the borning bed and the Lar was sent away to wait. The women were grim and quiet.

  Then the cries had started. Lar had gone to the top of the Watcher's head to escape the noise. Some time deep in the night he had slept. Kal had found him there. "Wake, my son.... they are both dead. We have much to do."

  In stunned silence he had followed the hunched shoulders in front of him as they made their way down the wet rocks in the predawn gloom. Wood was gathered from near and far, and many hands built the fire. Han was much loved. The singing broke his heart. Han would be missed by all.