Quest of the Wizardess

by Guy Antibes

  The man’s eyebrows rose and he looked at Bellia more intently. “I wouldn’t have thought an outsider could have bested her. I am Juguto. You speak our language nearly as well as one of us. Few do. Let me buy you dinner. I will eat with you tonight and tell you of our people. You asked how best to cross the plains. Tomorrow we can go out and I can show you the best horses to buy.”

  ~

  The sun seemed brighter on the plains. Trees grew in the town due to a spring that started a river that eventually ran into the sea, far to the south. Ulu, Juguto and Bellia walked through the tent village at the end of the town. Tents were in various stages of construction. A frame of metal rods created a dome structure. Hides, like the ones that hung in the inn, were stretched to form walls. Coverings made out of a heavy felt hung over the entire structure. A metal hat stuck out from the top. Smoke rose from the metal contrivance.

  “Before the metal frames, tribal tents were much smaller, made from wood and bone. A plainsman makes tents for all of the tribes now. The tribes don’t make them anymore. These are good tents to use as tribes walk the Layer.”

  “What about the rain?”

  “All tents have an additional oilcloth covering. A tent can last lifetimes, if properly cared for. The oilcloth lasts only a few seasons. The whole tent will fit on a cart pulled by a single horse. It can house an entire family.”

  “Are the Middab related to the Kokotans of Testia? Yezza called them degenerates or something.” Bellia said.

  “Degenerate is too good a name. Long, long ago we were two separate people sharing the plains. There was a war. The legends call it a war of the gods. All of those with light colored hair left Eustia and they became what you call the Kokotans. Wizards convinced many of the Kokotans to flee with them to Testia, which had empty lands. They left. It is said they now drink human blood.”

  “I’ve seen their temples. Some of them do indeed.”

  Juguto spat on the ground. “A travesty. The blood of the dead, man and animal, should be left to sink into the Layer for the good of future generations.”

  Perhaps if the Kokotans came from the south, they might be the army of the gods. She shook her head, frustrated that she couldn’t puzzle out the nature of the Reberrants and the Kokotans with what little she knew.

  They came to the huge ring of horses. Bellia noticed that the plains horses stood a bit shorter but seemed sturdier than the horses Bellia rode in Testia. “What makes a good horse for the plains?

  “Look at their legs. They need to show strength and then you ride to feel their suppleness.”

  Bellia didn’t know much about horses. She thought you had to look for a strong back, good teeth and carriage. It seemed that selecting the right horse was all feel and she had no idea if a horse was any good.

  Jukuto picked four horses after looking at those available in the sales pen. “We will ride them. I will help you. The Wolf was my tribe, you know.”

  “Was?” Ulu said.

  “Your friend, the legendary Yezza, left the tribe. I did as well at the same time. I wished to be a scholar, but my father thought no honor accrued to such a profession. We fought and my father became incensed at my willfulness. He pulled a knife on me.” Jukuto raised the sleeve of his shirt. A scar ran from his wrist to his elbow. “Once I was cut, it became a blood battle.”

  Jukuto took a deep breath and looked away. “I regretted having to duel my own father, but honor demanded it. No one witnessed the fight. As it turns out, Yezza was involved. My father died and the tribe banished me. I’ve spent my life since running the inn for Middab guests, reading books, and forever yearning to ride the plains with my tribe once more.”

  They each rode all the horses. Ulu, not surprisingly liked the smallest of the four. Jukuto vetoed Bellia’s choice.

  “See this bump?” Jukuto said holding up the forelock. “This was broken and healed with the knot. As a pack horse, this one is fine, but carrying a rider all the way across the plains to the other side? No.” He shook his head and let go of the leg and grabbed the mane of another. “This horse is the best. It’s legs bones are larger, well suited to a big person such as yourself and his chest is full. That is the promise of much wind as it rides.”

  Bellia ended up buying the horse with the knotted leg, two of Jukuto’s selection and Ulu’s smaller horse.

  “Have you heard of the Blind God?” Bellia said as they stood on the porch of the inn.

  Jukuto colored. “I help him in a small way. I write my observations of the plainsmen in our own language and send reports to Testia four times a year when a servant of the Blind God spends a day with me. She tells me of the world, brings me books and I give her my writings.”

  “I worked as an Assessor in the Temple, sorting reports.” Bellia pulled out her Temple token. “I probably looked at one or two of your letters.” She showed him her temple token.

  Jukuto knelt in front of Bellia. “I am your servant. I follow both Winna and the Blind God.” Bellia struggled to get the man on his feet.

  “You’re not my servant. I’m on my way to visit one in Togolath. A man named Rullon.”

  “We are told to do all we can to help those with a token made out of precious metal.”

  Bellia thought a bit. “Do you have a family here?”

  “No. I will not marry. My wife is this inn and my children are its guests.” Jukuto looked down.

  “Why not come with us? Perhaps my wolf’s head can get us all through the plains. We can all see Rullon, for frankly, I seek him for advice. My path takes me through Togolath and beyond. Is there another who can write to the Temple?”

  Jukuto nodded his head. “A girl, not a plains girl, helps me in the inn. I have taught her how to listen and together we have written reports for the last three years.” Jukuto’s eyes began to shine. “I can go with you and teach you all about the plains as we go.” He laughed. “If you conquered Yezza, perhaps you can protect me if I am challenged.”

  Bellia saw his eyes light up. He seemed years younger with all of his excitement. “Either Ulu or I could defeat Yezza. With the three of us, there’s no telling what we can do.” Bellia grinned. “How soon can you leave?”

  “A few days only. I must transfer ownership to Lalya and her father. I have possessions that I will leave behind in her care. Let me go tell her.” Jukuto nodded to them and quickly left Bellia and Ulu standing in the lobby.

  ~

  Jukuto escorted them to a general store selling clothing. “Among the Middab, the wrong kind of clothing results in a loss of face. Ulu, you now wear the clothes of a warrior-hunter.”

  “And your clothes Jukuto. They are all black.”

  “The clothes of a scholar. We are spread around the tribes. My father had old-fashioned notions. That was nearly fifteen years ago. More scholars now travel with the tribes.”

  “Do Middab women wear these split leather skirts?” Bellia said fingering the supple leather garment.

  “It is the standard garb of women who ride.”

  “Then I will buy two. I will certainly be a woman who rides.”

  “The clothing of a chief is whatever he or she wishes to wear. Your wolf clan amulet bears respect and peril all at once. Should a swordsman challenge you to a duel, you must fight or your life is forfeit.”

  Bellia wondered if she should remove the chain. Ulu put his hand on Bellia’s arm and sang, “The gods put the chain around your neck for a reason. It is not your prerogative to remove it.”

  Jukuto looked at Ulu strangely. “Did you just talk in some singing language?”

  Bellia laughed. “That is the way of his people. They sing their words.”

  Jukuto’s face turned white. “He is not of Testia, but a guardian of the gods. You went to the Temple at Helevat!”

  “What do you know of Helevat?”

  “It is a nearly forgotten place where the gods once ruled the world. We Middab know. The legends may have been lost in many lands but not on the plains.” Jukuto nodded his hea
d. “We still talk of Helevat. It is a story for telling around a campfire on the plains. Let us go.” Jukuto gave an appraising look at Ulu.

  ~~~

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Venture into the Layer

  ~

  To Bellia’s senses, the plains felt like fields back in Testia, but they seemed to generate new life and vitality to the scholar. Jukuto led them along a track heading west.

  “There is life just below and just above the layer. Winna watches over us all and helps to keep the plains in balance.” Jukuto stopped and pointed at a little mound in the grass. “Warrior ants made that mound in their restless wanderings. A plains cat burrows in that mound now. Neither knowing the other’s use of it, but Winna knows. The cat brings its kill into the mound. When the cat leaves, the mound collapses over time leaving nutrients for the grass for many years. Winna brings the balance. The Middab may use a track to travel on, but next year, all will avoid it and let the path grow over.”

  “But the life and death cycle happens all over Gleanere, in Testia and in Eustia.”

  Jukuto nodded and smiled. “But we know of it and celebrate the balance. That is the difference.”

  Bellia tried to understand. Perhaps it was the attitude of the Middab that made the difference. Perhaps it is with any who savor. It is the beholder that defines the beauty.

  “What else do you know about Helevat?” Bellia asked.

  “Tonight when we camp. It will make a good fire-tale.”

  Bellia looked forward to the sunset. They traveled deeper into the plains. The lands were wetter than Bellia thought. Every league or so they crossed a trickling stream or followed one for a number of paces before it vanished with a twist or a turn back into the tall grass.

  “How do you know we don’t travel in circles?”

  “See the grass tips?”

  Bellia saw they all floated with the wind’s caress, but then she noticed regardless of the wind there was a little bend.

  “The tips point always towards the East, seeking out the first sign of the sun. Most of our trip will take place on the plains, but at the other end, there is the country of Banta and mountains to go around until we get to Togolath.”

  Bellia pulled out the map of Eustia and showed it to Jukuto. “We must be here. Then we go around these mountains? Not through?”

  “There are no good passes. Many men have tried to find a way through. One can go over, but it is days faster to go around over the flat farmland.”

  “Have you been to Togolath?”

  “Twice with my father selling the hides of plains cats. They are highly prized by some in the city.”

  “What’s Togolath like?” Bellia’s curiosity kept her mind stirring. She yearned for guidance from any quarter. Here under the Eustian stars, no one followed her. She could travel wherever she wished.

  “Perhaps a topic for an entire evening. Fire-tales are a great plains tradition. It teaches us all patience with our thoughts.”

  “I’m too impatient?”

  Jukuto nodded. “Perhaps. It is the same for all the Middab, the ritual of waiting for enlightenment. We look to Winna to give us the patience of the layer; patience to wait for the seasons in their own time. Patience to eat goat meat or mutton while we comb the plains for antelope, bison and plains cat.”

  “Bison?”

  “They were in their own pen beyond the tents--wooly with horns going straight out. We use them like farmers use cows for beef. That pen contains the only bison herd corralled in Sanreala—all others roam free.

  “We travel quickly and tonight we will be further into the plains. Be prepared to meet a tribe at any time.” Jukuto glanced at the wolf’s head hanging from Bellia’s shirt.

  The only life that Bellia could detect were a herd of antelope grazing far to the south. She sat back in her saddle and exercised patience as Jukuto suggested. She had done so during her time at the Blind God’s Temple, going through the many dispatches that came across his desk. It was likely that she learned to read the Middab language from the writings of Jukuto.

  Jukuto led them to a rise in the plains and stopped. “We will camp here for the night. The Middab on a journey always sleep on high ground. If it rains during the night, too often the land around the streams become ponds. It will not do for us to float away,” he said smiling.

  Ulu gathered depleted water skins and left for a nearby stream as Jukuto showed Bellia how to assemble a travel tent.

  “Was it Ulu who killed Yezza?” Jukuto said as he watched the head and shoulders of the little man moving through the tall grasses.

  “No. We did find the treasure we sought. Once we brought it out into the open, Yezza killed the last of her men and advanced on Menna, an old friend of mine. Yezza looked over at me, perhaps to see if I would join in the fight on her side, when Menna pierced her through before the fight really began.”

  “Is that where you lost your fingers?”

  Bellia looked at his mutilated hand. “Yes, it was.” Would every person identify Bellia by her lack of fingers?

  “Then how did you escape the guardians?”

  “With music. I was given a flute and music to play by a servant at the Temple. The Reberrants, that is their name rather than guardians, speak a musical language. They heard me play the flute. Because of that, they preserved my life and healed my wounds. The treasure means nothing to them. If the truth be known it means little enough to me.”

  “And the person who gave you the magic flute?” Jukuto looked at Bellia intently.

  “A nice man I met at the Temple,” Bellia said. She rose from her place by the fire and began to pace, fiddling with her hands.

  Jukuto narrowed his eyes in thought. “The gods lost their power during that war. They rule the world no more. Some have influence. But where there were Twelve Gods and Goddesses, we now have three worshipped in the land. The Blind God, Winna and Pollok.”

  “Pollok?” Bellia never had heard of another god.

  “Pollok, the God of the Sky. He finds a following in Eustia and among some of the Kokotans on Testia, but not among the Middab.”

  “What do you know of the Reberrants?” Bellia sat down again. Why hadn’t her father taught her any of this? What else didn’t she know? Probably quite a bit.

  “Oh, yes. They were made men by a god, whose name we don’t know, to fight the wizards. It was said that golden swords made them invincible. I don’t believe that. A golden sword would soon lose its edge.”

  Bellia thought of the golden gray metal of the flute and the metal pages.

  “The war ranged across the two continents until wizards bound the gods that gave them their power in the first place. This was after the destruction of Helevat. Only a few guardians survived to pledge their lives to guard the Temple, awaiting the gods’ return. The wizards did not trust the Kokotans living in Eustia and banished most of them to Testia as I’ve said before.”

  “So the rest of the gods are bound to this day?” How much of this was legend and how much fact was interwoven in Jukuto’s tale? Bellia looked into the darkness. She knew some of his words bore the truth.

  “No. One god ruled the wizards by their consent. The other gods were put into a prison outside of Gleanere.” Jukuto shrugged his shoulders. “The gods overcame the wizards. The rebellion of the wizards came at a great cost to their magic.”

  “What kind of cost?” Bellia said.

  “The gods finally put bindings on magic. They created the spell codes. Magic could only be performed slowly by hand gestures.” Jukuto looked at Bellia’s hand. “I hope you weren’t a wizard.”

  “Close enough,” Bellia said, feeling her stumps. “My family were magicians and I knew a few codes. They died and I became a blacksmith and then became a soldier. Our army was defeated so I fled to the Temple of the Blind God. My army friend, Menna, enlisted me to join her treasure hunters because I learned how to read the language on a parchment at the Temple and here I am.”

  “To finish ou
r history lesson, the gods fought, once the wizards were subdued, and were somehow banished from Gleanere except for Winna, the Blind God and Pollok.”

  “And that brings us to the present day. The details are missing from your story, but it answers many of my questions,” Bellia said.

  “I can see there is much you left out in your own story. But I’ve learned patience in my years. Should you wish to make a fire-tale out of that part of your life, I shall be honored to hear more.” Jukuto gave Bellia a twisting nod. Bellia sort of returned it.

  “Is that nod a Middab gesture?”

  “It signifies respect of the other’s privacy. In the tribes, much is left open for all to see, living together in tents and journeys. There are private thoughts that we only share with friends we trust. The gesture accepts the honor of your secrets.”

  Ulu was returning. “Ulu does indeed possess the fighting frenzy when using a metal weapon. Don’t get in his way should his eyes glow blue. But he is a good man, with a pregnant wife like many happy young men,” Bellia said.

  Jukuto gave another twisting nod to Bellia.

  ~

  A week later, with the sun at their backs in the light of an early morning, they caught up to a tribe moving slowly in the same direction.

  “On your guards. Don’t scowl. No matter what insults they throw at you, laugh. It truly is all in good fun until someone takes offense. Let us hope it does not come to that.” Jukuto gave a crooked smile, but Bellia could detect concern in his eyes.

  They rode single file through the goats and sheep. Cart after cart with tents and provisions passed behind them. By the time they reached where the warriors and hunters rode, an escort of twenty of the Middab surrounded them.

  A man wearing a coat of dark hair wheeled around and rode back to them. “I am Manatoka, Chief of the Cat Tribe. And what matter of man slices his way up the middle of my people?”

  Jukuto laughed and Bellia and Ulu followed. Bellia knew Ulu didn’t understand the Middab language.

  “We did not want to slink in the dust like dogs and hyenas waiting for a goat to die. So we rode through like men,” Jukuto said.