Tobar blew on his stew. “Have you seen the camp?”
“Not much of it. I just sat down.”
“Then eat and I will show you around.” His eyes twinkled. “Or do I have to feign an illness to get you to follow me?”
“I don’t think you’ll have to feign anything.”
Tobar laughed. “You see there are four tents?
Sara nodded.
“Two are for sleeping, another for the animals, the last for stores.” He leaned closer to Sara. “By the taste of this stew, they are low on many things. A good cook being one of them.”
Sara smiled and looked around. The tents faced a wide-open plain. Four rock wells stood a short distance away. Each well was encircled by three troughs, and paths intersected the troughs so that the wells appeared to be surrounded by semicircles radiating outward, like the ripples from a pebble dropped in a pond. In the distance shimmers of silver danced on the bleached soil.
“I’ve instructed Peitro to set up your tent near the stores,” Tobar said between bites. “You’ll be but far enough from the men’s tent to afford you some privacy but close enough should you need anything. It’s rare any come close to camp, but there is a large cat who shares the southern Faisach with us.”
“Thank you.” She scowled at Tobar. Did he think she was defenseless? In need of his protection? Didn’t he remember who killed the cat that threatened his son? She took another bite of stew. Tobar was right, it wasn’t the best she’d ever eaten, but it would fill her stomach.
“Ready?”
Sara placed her empty bowl on the ground, then, after a brief hesitation, took his extended hand. He led her toward the nearest well, pride evident in his eyes. As they started up the hard-packed earth between troughs, the smell of alkali grew stronger. A thick gray sludge lingered in the bottom of the rock trenches, white crystals crowding the sides and walls. Tobar reached and broke off a small piece, holding it in his palm.
“I spoke of how my ancestors dug wells in our territory and how the southern waters were bitter and not good for drinking?”
Sara nodded. “Yes.”
“It wasn’t long before they realized that when the sun drank the water from these wells, it left behind this.” He handed Sara the piece of crystal. “You see, the other tribes scorned this dry arid land and the sun who rules it, but not the Heleini and because of this, the sun and its land have gifted us with much wealth.” He stretched out his arm. “There are only four wells, but there could be many. We are not greedy and take no more of the land than we need. Twice a year we harvest. But this place is sacred and always guarded.”
“How does the harvest work?”
Tobar ran a hand along the waist-high well and up to one of the columns that flanked it. A wooden log nestled in niches in either column and stretched between them, holding a thick rope. One end of the rope dropped into the darkness of the well, the other looped around a large leather halter. Tobar grabbed the halter. “This we attach to a pair of buila.” He nodded toward the squat heavily muscled animals grazing on whatever grass they could find in their enclosure. “One man leads them along this path to raise a basket full of water. He pointed toward a channel leading to the first trough. Men empty the water into this trough.” Tobar leaned over and pulled up a thick wooden piece wedged at the beginning of a canal joining one circle from the next. “Each section is connected by these canals. To fill them, this dam is removed and the water runs into the next series of troughs. When they are all full, we wait.”
“How long does it take?”
“It takes several days to fill up just the outer circle. But to make salt? Several moon cycles. Once the troughs are full, the sun drinks the water, and then they must be filled again, and then again. That is why we have four. We start at one, and then fill the rest, when we are done with the last. The first must be filled again.”
Sara nodded. “I see.”
“Let me show you something.” Tobar’s eyes danced like his son’s. He reached out to take her hand.
Sara let him lead her up the rocky incline behind the tents, his hand warm around hers. When they reached the top, he squeezed it and then moved to the edge overlooking the camp. “Please, come.”
Sara stepped closer. Below them, the desert stretched to nestle at the foot of the mountains. She followed Tobar’s gaze. The wells lay a short distance apart from each other. Sara focused on the one Tobar had shown her. The concentric rings surrounding the well exactly matched the pattern woven into the horse’s blankets. The Heleini crest. She looked at Tobar. He held an amulet of flattened silver in his hand with the Heleini symbol in a deep blue, the center a dark blue stone. “My father wore this, and his father before him and so on. One day, I will give it to Danladi and he will give it to his firstborn son and the Heleini will go on.”
Chapter Fifteen
Giggles brought Sara from her slumber. She groaned; she wasn’t ready to be awake yet, let alone surrounded by giggling girls. They’d returned from the salt pans late the night before; the camp had been quiet save for the guards who met them at the entrance. Tobar walked her to a newly erected tent in the second tier, explaining that he’d left instructions to have the tent built for her before he left. She’d opened her mouth to thank him but he’d placed one finger on her lips and bent to kiss her cheek. “Until the Fire.” She could still hear his voice as it tickled her ear and feel the rasp of his cheek as it brushed hers.
She opened one eye, more in an attempt to escape her thoughts then in a desire to wake up. Two young Heleini women stood by her d’jalla. “We are to prepare you for the celebration.” The smaller of the two spoke, her dark eyes bright. “I am Crina and this is Alin.”
Sara sat up and groaned. Her muscles ached from the unaccustomed time on horseback. “Chavi sent you?”
The girls glanced at each other. “She thought... I mean.”
“It was very kind.” Sara stood. Definitely not ready for giggling girls, but she didn’t want to insult Chavi. She also didn’t want to examine how much of that desire was due to guilt. “Fine...I’m ready. I’m yours to prepare.”
“First you must eat.” Alin poured dark tea into a mug and broke off several pieces of bread. “You have slept until the sun is high in the sky.”
“We didn’t get back until it was almost morning.” Sara rubbed her eyes, trying to erase the image of Tobar’s face, his dark eyes full of passion and longing, then reached for the tea. She held the mug in both hands, breathing in the aromatic fragrance. Once the tea and bread were gone, Sara released herself to their care. They removed her tunic and leggings to daub oil over her body, scraping it off with a curved wooden paddle before rubbing sweet-smelling pomade into her skin. The girls waved off her protests when they began brushing her hair. When she was apparently satisfied, Alin wove beads into thin braids on either side of her face while Crina offered her delicate pastries and candied fruit.
Sara shifted uncomfortably. All this for her? She’d feel much more comfortable in her own clothes, but maybe this kind of treatment was customary. Chavi had spoken of the Fire as a sacred event.
Alin disappeared, returning with a shiny blue fabric in her arms. “Now we will dress you.” The trousers hung loose around her ankles and were fringed with tiny beads that jingled when she moved. Crina pulled an embroidered white shirt over Sara’s head, tucking it into the trousers and securing it with a wide belt encrusted in small beads and tiny pieces of crystal. A jacket fit over the shirt and wrapped above the belt. They gave her a head covering and giggled when she wrapped it around her face like Chavi.
“You are not married. How do you
expect to find a man if you cover your face?” Crina asked. The girls fitted a silver amulet on her arm and delicate beaded earrings, lined her eyes with a dark substance and pinched her cheeks. Smiling, they pronounced her ready.
“Oh, you are beautiful.”
Sara turned to see Chavi at the entrance to the tent, her eyes guarded.
“Thank you. I’m told this was your doing.” She felt a flash of guilt she knew was irrational. She’d been lusting after this woman’s husband.
“Yes. I imagine traveling with only one man in attendance leaves little time or need for pampering. I thought you’d like it.”
“I did. Thank you.”
“Now you must be going.”
“Now? It’s not quite dark. I haven’t checked on Danladi.”
“He is fine, playing with his younger brothers, and it will be dark before you know.”
Sara let Chavi usher her into the twilight. The camp was empty save for tent flaps whispering in the breeze. “Now where is Zeynel?” Sara muttered. She wove through the tents, following the sound of laughter. A distance from camp, a great bonfire dwarfed the emerging stars. Figures moved, darting in and out of vision, hidden by the fire.
A large pavilion stood against the desert sky, sheltering low tables, stacks of pillows on either side. Women wove around, platters brimming with food in their hands. Heat from the sun-warmed earth cradled her sandaled feet as she walked toward the fire.
Tobar stepped away from the crowd and walked out to meet her, reaching for her hands, his gaze roaming her face and settling on her eyes. “Welcome, Healer. You have always been beautiful, now you look Heleini.” He led her to the pavilion and a group of elders. One of them turned as she approached.
“Sara.”
Sara blinked. Zeynel wore the loose leggings and short tunic of the Heleini and he looked as though he belonged, as though he were Heleini by birth. She had a feeling Zeynel could adapt to any culture and make it his own. She realized that he’d have to—his people were gone. That is something we have in common. My people all died too. She blinked her eyes to clear the sudden moisture. He reached for her hand. “You look nice.”
“Thank you. So do you. I missed you.”
Tobar stepped forward. “Come, it’s time to eat.” He led them to the low table and sat them on his right. Heleini young and old sat around similar tables or wove between them, chatting and laughing. The encampment held more people than Sara would have suspected.
A group of musicians began to play a soft melody on stringed instruments. Women carried baskets of goat cheese and flat breads among the tables. Earthenware containers of a rich dark wine followed. When the food was served, the music changed tempo. Many-veiled girls ran before the table from a close by tent, bangles dangling from their arms and legs. Their bodies moved in complicated rhythms to the music. Sara watched, amazed, and clapped with the audience. When the song stopped, the dancers ran back toward the tent. Men carrying large platters of meat wove through the tables, filling the night with the aroma of roast meat and spices. Eager eyes waited for the platters to reach them as music wafted anew through the air.
“Did you enjoy the salt pans?” Zeynel leaned nearer to be heard over the music.
“Yes. They were fascinating.”
Zeynel nodded. “Durriken showed me the diagrams—an interesting and clever operation. Designed by Sabo-Wen himself, and unchanged for many seasons.”
“If I’d known there were diagrams, I’d have spared myself the journey.” She grimaced. Alin’s massage had gone a long way to ease her discomfort, but her muscles were still sore from the long ride.
Zeynel smiled. “Nonsense, you’re young. Leave diagrams and drawings for the old. The young need experience.”
Her friend’s eyes overflowed with merriment.
“If I didn’t know better—”
“But you do.”
Sara took a bite of the delicious meat to spare her the need to respond. Her mentor couldn’t be encouraging her to act on her attraction to Tobar. Could he? “If Sabo-Wen designed the salt pans, was he a Heleini too?”
“No.” Zeynel sipped his drink. “He traveled between the tribes, helping when he was needed. Back then the tribes didn’t have names. That happened later.”
“You have been studying.”
Zeynel inclined his head.
Acrobats appeared next, performing feats of dexterity before disappearing with the men carrying away empty platters. Spiced aromas preceded a group of women with steaming pots. They poured the sweetened liquid into small cups and then stood a short distance away, awaiting the signal for refills.
Bowls, overflowing with fruit, followed. Juices caught the light of the many lamps hanging from the pavilions’ eaves as the women dipped and rose, offering delicacies around.
Sara looked up to find Tobar’s gaze on her. He raised the honeyed luna fruit to her, smiling. Although delicious, she thought the fruit Tobar had fed her in the grove was somehow more flavorful. Remembering her promise, she set aside several for Danladi.
A hush descended as a stringed instrument sounded over the plains. Then a single female voice began to sing, her voice as haunting as the melody.
“Alone
The eagle seeks her heaven
Releasing her soul among the clouds
Alone
The flower drops her seed
Bows her head to the soil and dies
Alone
I send my name with the wind
Whisper sorrow in your deafened ear
Alone
I stand among my tribe
And I die
Alone.”
Slowly, conversation filtered into the silence left by the song’s end. Groups of people rose from the table and drifted to the large fire to toss small offerings into the flames.
“They are beginning anew.” Sara heard Tobar’s voice in her ear. She didn’t turn, aware of the warmth of his body so near but not quite touching her.
“The things they throw into the fire represent some part of their lives they want to change, to forget or amend. For some, it’s a broken heart, and perhaps they offer a gift given by the lost love to let him or her go. Others may throw in a shared possession to end a quarrel. The offering is personal to each, given to the fire so the remains drift to Tei. In this way, they move on.”
Sara nodded.
“A long time ago, all the tribes would met and here, before the fire, we’d amend any grievances and reaffirm our bonds. Then, it was called Al Lycal, the rebirth. Now, only the Heleini dance and remember.”
“What happened?”
“Many things.” Tobar took a deep breath. “Is there something you’d like to offer to the fire? A grief you’ve borne too long? Something you’d like to forget?”
“No.” She looked into Tobar’s eyes. She’d already offered up everything she knew, not to fire but to the ocean. She had only the stone. And if she gave that up? I could have a normal life. She gazed around the tables, took in the many smiling faces and then turned back to Tobar. “I have nothing I can give to the fire.”
* * *
Tobar, deep in conversation, glanced Sara’s way as she rose to walk away from the revelry, seeking the solitude of the Faisach. The velvet night wrapped her in an embrace as she gazed into the now familiar heavens. When had life gotten so complicated?
“Do you know of Rawni?”
She turned to find Zeynel behind her.
“Rawni?”
“You were staring at the sky. It is the season when she shines the brightest.”
“Tell me about her.”
“It’s a Heleini legend. Rawni lived long ago, when the tribes were one and dwelled in harmony. She was to be married and her love sought a wedding gift that couldn’t be equale
d. He traveled to a distant land and didn’t return. Rawni waited in vain, climbing the hills, searching for her love. She left her tribe to seek the mountains, where she might see him return over the Faisach. Her strength failed but before she died, the One took pity and placed her in the heavens, where she watches still for her lover’s return.”
Sara stared at the constellation. It wasn’t hard to imagine the heartbreak of a young woman, her lover lost.
Zeynel stretched out his arm and pointed to another bright constellation, diamonds reflected in his blue eyes. “That group of stars is Taliki, the warrior. The brightest star is his death wound. Taliki fought for his tribe against invaders, defeating them single-handed, only to be betrayed by his own brother, who killed him in an embrace of fealty. The One placed him in the heavens to honor the fallen hero.”
“You’ve learned much here already.”
“So have you. No matter how long you live, there is always more to learn. That is one of the beauties of life.”
“The One. You and Maelys have spoken of the One. My grandfather told me stories in which the One played a part. Tobar told me he is the god from which all others sprang, but they worship his son, Tei. Are they referring to the same thing?”
Zeynel sighed. “Different people call the force ruling the universe by different names.”
“You mean like Teann?”
“Teann is but a manifestation of what they call the One.”
“And...how do you call it?”
Silence fell between them. “I don’t.”
Sara waited.
“It is larger than any one name could convey.”
“And the other gods? The Mother? Tei?”
“Manifestations. Interpretations. Superstitions.”
Sara smiled. “I hardly know how to swear anymore.”
“Then don’t.” Zeynel grasped Sara’s hand and led her back toward the flickering flames. “It is time.”
Journey of Awakening Page 18
