by L. M. Roth
His words only drew blank faces from the man and woman. But one of the young men suddenly became alert and caught Marcus’ attention.
“You are from Valerium?” he asked with a slight frown creasing his forehead.
“Yes!” Marcus responded, both relieved and excited that someone at last could understand him. “How did you know that?”
The young man looked at him but did not smile.
“I was an unwilling guest in Valerium and learned some of the language, also the Common Tongue. Your name is well-known there, so I knew you to be of that land.”
“An unwilling guest?” Marcus repeated, as his own brow puckered in puzzlement.
“Yes. About five years ago. I took a boat to sail away from the islands to see what I could see. A ship of your people captured me. I was sold as a slave in the market. I was sent to Valerium, where my master was hard and cruel. He taught me the Common Tongue because he would not speak a barbarian tongue. I served for about two years. Then one night I made escape to come back home.
“I did not like Valerium,” the young man finished with a flash of his eyes.
Marcus liked the look of the young man and decided to be frank with him.
“I do not always like Valerium myself, although it is my home. And I served as a slave myself for a time, so I do understand your dislike.
“Let us, however, be friends,” and he bowed in greeting to the young man.
The young man hesitated as he searched Marcus’ eyes to determine his sincerity; then gently inclined his head.
“I am Bimo,” he said as a smile lightened his face and brightened his eyes.
He turned away from Marcus and spoke to the older man and woman. They gestured to the other young men, who at once lowered their spears and filed out of the hut.
Bimo turned once again to the Alexandrians, whom Marcus quickly introduced. When he had finished Bimo brought forth the man and woman.
“This is Intami,” he called the woman, who watched them with hard unrelenting eyes.
“And this is Yudo,” Bimo said, as he introduced the man, who was clearly their chief.
Yudo and Intami reeled off another string of words which Bimo interpreted for them.
“You are now a guest in Cahyala, land of the Flame Throwers.”
Chapter XVIII
Mountain of Fire
They had been on the island for two days. Bimo graciously invited them to stay in his house. He had no family, he said, his father and mother having died of a fever the winter before. He had no siblings and was alone in the world.
So they stayed in the house of Bimo, his little hut hardly seemed large enough to accommodate them. But by giving Kyrene and Elena the sleeping quarters and allotting the living quarters and a back veranda to the men, they managed. Dag and Cort took the living quarters along with Bimo, for the Northerners found they could not withstand the mosquitoes that occasionally shared the veranda.
Marcus and Felix, however, found that the sound of the wave slapping against the pier, the sight of a tropical moon illuminating the hot, velvety darkness, and the scent of exotic flowers borne aloft on the ocean breezes, more than compensated them for having to tolerate the occasional mosquito.
They began to relax and enjoy this interlude on the island.
As they became better acquainted with Bimo, Marcus began to respect the young man whom he had first lumped along with the rest of the islanders as a savage; a primitive people without education or interaction with the rest of the world, and ignorant of its languages, peoples, or customs.
But Bimo, Marcus discovered, was not quite so heathen. In the days of his captivity he had traveled with his Valerian master and had seen much of the world. He had learned the Valerian tongue, and learned also some of the Valerian customs, history, and manners.
He had also seen the Isles of Solone, where he felt a kinship with their culture. For its history was made known to him and its beauty, more cultivated than the wild beauty of his own island home, captivated and enthralled him. Were it not for his parents and their worry of what had happened to him, Bimo said, he might have made his home in Solone and found perfect contentment there.
Yet he had returned to the island for the sake of his parents, but he found himself unhappy when he was ensconced once more back on the island. He had made the sad discovery that though he had changed, life among his people remained the same.
The customs engendered in him while growing up struck him as rude and primitive now. For how, he asked Marcus and Felix, could he revert to eating with his hands after being taught how to use utensils? How could he run around with a mere cloth to cover himself after seeing the august robes of rich cloth of the Emperor of Valerium, and the dazzling armor of his Imperial soldiers?
Most difficult of all, Bimo explained, as they strolled along the beach with him on a day of radiant sunlight and soothing surf, was to accept the simplistic beliefs with which he had grown up. After traveling through the Valeriun Empire and staying in Solone, and seeing how many different gods these people worshiped, it was almost impossible to blindly believe as his people did.
No, Bimo sighed, he had changed and he wondered if he could ever feel the island was home again.
Marcus remembered his own homecoming after his captivity, and how dramatically his life had changed, and he felt an empathy with Bimo. For truly, it must be the most unsettling feeling in the word, to discover that home was home no longer.
Felix, however, seized on Bimo’s words regarding the beliefs of the islanders.
“Bimo, my good friend,” he began, “you mentioned the beliefs of your people, yet did not say what they are. What do they believe, if I may ask?”
Bimo did not hesitate, but obliged Felix at once.
“They believe,” he stated simply, “that fire created all life, and can take all life, and is therefore to be worshiped.”
He stopped; Marcus and Felix waited for him to continue, then realized he was finished speaking.
“You mean like a fire deity,” Felix commented, “rather like other peoples who worship a sun god. Is that it?”
“No,” Bimo shook his head. “They do not believe in a god. They believe that fire gives all life, and that it can take life. So it is to be worshiped and feared.”
“But, Bimo,” Marcus inquired, running his hand through his hair in his frustration, “why do they believe that, yet don’t believe in an actual god?”
Bimo smiled at the bewilderment of his friends.
“You must understand how simple my people are,” he explained. “They eat fish and fruit because all around them is fish and fruit. They make boats from hollowed logs because they do not know of any other way to make a boat. They build huts from thatch because straw is all they have to build with.
“They have no curiosity about the world around them. No, not even upon my return did they question where I had been or what I had seen, or what peoples I had met with. They only accept what they see, smell, hear, or feel.”
Felix interrupted, unable to comprehend a people so lacking in the desire for knowledge.
“But why do they believe that fire gives and takes life? Where did that concept evolve from?”
Bimo did not answer directly, but turned his head in the direction of the far side of the island.
“Do you recall seeing a mountain of conical shape when you first sailed into these waters?”
Marcus and Felix nodded.
“That mountain,” Bimo continued, “is sacred to my people. They call it the Mountain of Fire, and worship it.”
“Why is that?” Felix inquired. “I have heard of sun god worship, but not a mountain.”
Bimo smiled patiently and continued. Marcus himself tried not to fret at Felix’s perpetual interruptions. If he would just let Bimo speak he would have finished by now!
“That mountain sometimes spits out tongues of fire, red and glowing. And they flow over all the land, burning what it touches. Yet it also gives life after it
destroys it. Have you noted all the small islands around the large one?
“My people say that many years ago they were all one island. Then one day Diono, that is what they call the mountain, belched fire high into the sky, higher than it ever had before. And it thundered and shook for many hours. It shook so hard that it blew the island apart, and the sea rushed in, and we now have many islands around the large one.
“They say that it is because Diono is a king and has the larger share. But after the islands split and the fire stopped flowing, it could be seen that everywhere the fire touched new shoots of grass sprang up. And it was a richer green than the grass that was there before.
“So that is why my people believe that fire gives and takes life. And that is why, on the night of the full moon, they climb to the top of Diono, and they throw into his mouth the flowers of flame that grow on the islands. It is an offering to Diono, to ask that he will give life and not take it.
“But I cannot believe as they do anymore. I simply cannot, and what I shall do about that, I do not know.”
And Bimo cradled his head in his hands, the very picture of despair.
Chapter XIX
To Never Walk Alone
Marcus felt his heart ache as he watched Bimo. He knew, oh how he knew, the despair that Bimo felt. To be uprooted from the only home he ever knew, forced into captivity in a strange land among a people wholly alien to one’s culture and beliefs, then to return home only to find that it was lost forever. Was there anything in the world more tragic than the shattering of a dream held so dear in one’s heart that it became one’s reason for being, only to see it smashed with nothing left to cling to?
Marcus remembered anew the day he returned to find his home closed to him, seized by the Empress Aurora, along with his parents whom she had imprisoned. And the day when he learned the unbelievable truth, most stunning surprise of all, that it was his closest friend who betrayed him, and made the seizure of his parents possible. And all for the love of a woman who did not want him.
Marcus glanced at Felix, and wondered if his heart had suffered the kind of blow his own had at the rejection of Tullia. His own heart still stung at her spurning of his love. Did Felix still suffer as well?
Marcus felt his lips harden as he mused. And it would be a fitting punishment for his perfidy! Then he reproached himself; Alexandros had forgiven even the enemies who had put Him to death. Could he not truly forgive the friend who had betrayed him because of jealousy only?
Surely that should inspire compassion, since jealousy was merely a desire to possess what another owned. Did it not have its roots in admiration, after all, though the roots be somewhat twisted? Was that not easier to forgive than pure hatred, as Alexandros had experienced?
As though he felt the intensity of Marcus’ gaze, Felix glanced at him. He lifted a questioning eyebrow at him, but Marcus merely smiled at him and said nothing.
He turned his attention back to Bimo. He felt a curious tug at his spirit, and realized that the Spirit was prompting him to speak to Bimo.
“I have felt that very despair that you suffer now, Bimo,” he began in a tone of voice muffled by unshed tears. “I endured captivity for many months and made my way home only to find it lost to me, with the father and mother I loved so dearly imprisoned by the Empress on a false pretext. And it was given to me to accomplish a task in order to free them. And in that task I failed completely.”
Here Marcus hung his own head and dropped it in his hands, recalling the devastation he felt upon the discovery that the Pearl the Empress lusted for did not exist. Then he admonished himself. He had been given another chance after all, and this time his quest was half fulfilled. He must not allow his faith to falter.
“But in the failure of that task,” he continued, after raising his head and straightening his back, “I found a new hope. I met One who will always be by my side, and not abandon me to loneliness. He will never leave me or forsake me, and that is the hope I cling to.”
Bimo inclined his head toward Marcus, an unasked question dangling from his slightly parted lips.
Marcus continued.
“Yes,” he nodded his head, “what I say may seem strange to your ears, as indeed it was to my own when I first heard of it. Yet it is true and therefore I must tell you also.”
He hesitated a moment, waiting for the words to come. He heard the murmur of the sea softly lapping the shore, and a lush, fruity scent was borne on the morning breeze. The calls of birds speaking a language only they knew came to his ears. Life on these islands was so simple: would Bimo comprehend what he was about to tell him?
It was the bird calls that finally inspired him to speak.
“Look, Bimo,” Marcus drew his attention to the colorful birds who flitted in the morning air in groups of two or more. “See the birds, how they frolic in pairs and groups? Not one of them flies alone, but each has its mate or companions. So it is with me. I do not walk in this world alone, although I am parted from those I hold dearest to my heart.
“Man was not intended to be solitary, Bimo. We were created to love and be loved. We were meant to know the joy of companionship.
“We were made in the likeness of Dominio, the One true God, that we could enjoy His love forever. But His own creation rejected Him and set themselves up as gods, to choose evil over that which was good. And so our divine connection was broken.
“Yet His heart yearned for the love of His children. How He longed to walk with them as they once did. But they had erected a wall between them, a wall of their own making, that they might serve themselves.
“And they turned on one another out of fear and jealousy, killing from hatred, enslaving for gain. This broke Dominio’s heart, for He wanted them to be one family, and to love one another.
“At last, Dominio could bear it no longer. He sent His own Son, Alexandros, to tear down that wall for any who chose to reconcile with Dominio. Alexandros bore our punishment for rebellion against our Father.
“This pleased Dominio, who accepted the sacrifice of His Son on our behalf. He considered the debt against us to be paid in full; and all who accept His gift of mercy may count themselves as His sons and daughters, to live with Him in Heaven one day, and in this world to never walk alone.”
Marcus paused and breathed deeply. He stopped in his stroll and looked Bimo fully in the face.
“Can you accept this, Bimo? Do you grasp what I say?”
Bimo looked at Marcus with wonder-filled eyes. He slowly smiled and nodded his head, then gently closed his eyes.
“Yes,” he breathed. “For I heard something of this nature while in Solone. I went to the marketplace on an errand for my master and a man addressed a small crowd gathered about him. He also spoke as you do, of Alexandros and the love of Dominio.
“But at the time, my heart was bitter at my captivity, and I could not believe. Nor would I allow myself to listen to the message that was spoken. For if there was a loving God, why did He permit me to be taken captive as I was? But now I know that you also have suffered as I have, and have known the loneliness of slavery, and the loss of family. Yet you believe, and as you say, it is our own wall that separates us.
“I want that wall to come down,” Bimo said simply.
Marcus rejoiced to hear it, and Felix laughed in sheer joy. They each embraced Bimo, and then prayed with him.
Bimo himself prayed with the simplicity and innocent trust of a child.
“Father, I want to know you,” he prayed. “I am sorry for any wrong I have done, and ask that You fill me with Your Spirit and your power, that I may serve You and live for You alone.”
The words were no sooner uttered than Bimo suddenly began to tremble. He grabbed the arm of Marcus for support, and then collapsed onto the sandy beach in a fit of laughter. He rocked back and forth and fell forward on his face, to the astonishment of Marcus and Felix. Marcus looked uneasily from side to side, hoping no one witnessed the display.
Gradually the laughter slow
ed and ceased altogether. Bimo wiped his eyes and reached up for Marcus’ hand. Marcus tugged and pulled Bimo to his feet. Bimo gasped for breath and placed his hands on his knees to steady himself.
“Oh, that felt good!” he exclaimed. “My heart has not felt this light for many years! Not since before my captivity have I laughed so. My bitterness is gone, and I feel as free as the wind in the trees, as light as the clouds in the sky!”
He started to laugh again, but to the relief of his friends, did not again storm off into gales of merriment. For the Valerians, trained from their youth to hold emotions in check, such a display of hilarity was rather unsettling.
“I am sorry,” Bimo rued. “It was beyond my ability to control. And yet, I must not laugh and so forget how angry my people will be. For they do not abide any who break rank with their beliefs.
“I will reap trouble for this day, I do not doubt. For all are punished who turn from the Mountain of Fire, and offend those who wear the Sacred Stones.”
Chapter XX
The Sacred Stones
“Sacred Stones?” queried Marcus with a furrowed brow. “What is this you speak of, Bimo?”
“Have you not noticed the stones worn around the necks of Yudo and Intami?” Bimo asked in return.
“Do you mean those orange stones that look like liquid flame?” Marcus inquired. “Yes, I have, and have wondered why they alone wear them.”
“Those stones,” Bimo continued, “were given to the leaders of my people long ago. How long I cannot tell you, but it is said that they were a gift to Harto and his wife Sinti. For it was they, who back in the earliest time to be remembered, discovered the secret of the Mountain of Fire. They saw that it gave life, but it could also take life. They took the flaming flowers to its peak and threw them in the crater, an offering for protection and favor.
“Yet they feared the mountain and what it could do in its wrath. There was one who had boldly ventured up the side of the mountain but took no offering, and the mountain took him in its place. He peered into its sacred mouth where the fire is never quenched. He ventured too near and lost his footing on the slippery rock, and fell into its flaming mouth.
