River God: The Horse Lords
Page 8
On the third day the trail came to an end at a crossroads faced by a tall grey stone menhir. Next to it were three spears driven into the earth, a human skull impaled on each. Sava dismounted to study the symbols carved on the menhir’s stone face. One arrow pointed left, to the pictograph of a skull. The other arrow pointed right to the image of a horse.
“What does it mean?” He asked the guide.
“It’s the Tauri idea of a joke - `Turn left, lose your head. Turn right, lose your horse.”
“So I thought,” Sava replied. “Which way is Taurica – left or right?”
“Taurica lies all around you, left and right. I suggest you go right. A Tauri border patrol will soon find you. They will take you to King Yagya’s camp, if they don’t fill your hides full of arrows first.”
“Any other words of wisdom?”
“Don’t tell the Tauri that a Callipidei brought you here, or they will sacrifice you to their goddess. The Tauri hate Greeks because the Greeks sacked Troy. We are mixed, Greek-Skythian, but the Tauri consider us Greeks.”
“Good to know.” Sava lifted an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
“I am sorry my friend.” The guide swung his horse around. “It is best I leave quickly.”
And with that he galloped away, disappearing over a hill. The two nomads looked around, taking it all in. Taurica was a wide peninsula jutting out into the sea. The land appeared hilly and rock strewn. High cliffs towered over the rolling blue Euxine sea.
A chilly breeze blew grey clouds skidding across the horizon. Hoarse cawing slit the air. Sava glanced up to see a raven flying low overhead. The dark shadow it cast was long. A bad omen.
But he shook it off. He could not afford fear.
Predators sense fear. So do people. He was sure the Tauri were highly attuned to it.
Mata Drakaina, smile on us. Aid my mission.
“Well Zlatna my friend,” he stroked the stallion’s living gold neck, “Let us be off.” He gazed warmly at his friend. “Ready Brata?”
The grimace on the Black Cloak’s gaunt face made his pain evident, but his eyes lit up at the challenge in Sava’s voice.
“Arkatash brate.” The Black Cloak rasped. The devotion in his dark regard speaking louder than words, I am with you Brother. Back to Back.
“Let us cast our fate to the winds of life. We ride - to Taurica!”
And so Sava and Brata passed over into Taurica, their horses moving at a steady rocking canter. The Black Cloak’s jaw was clenched and he swayed in the saddle. It was taking all his willpower just to stay on his horse. But there was no help for it.
“Halt!”
Bristling with arms, a mounted guard materialized from behind nearby boulders to confront them. The Tauri wore loose black pants tucked into red boots and a red sash around the waists of their colorful embroidered tunics. Their conical bronze helmets edged in red fox fur sported flowing horse tails at the top.
“Who are you? What is your business in Taurica?” Their leader demanded, brown eyes glittering suspiciously.
“I am Sava, son of Voivode Skopasis of Sauromatatia. I bear an important message for King Yagya.”
“Do you bring a sign from your lord?”
“Aye.”
Sava pulled back the sleeve of his tunic and bared his right forearm. Wrapped around it from wrist almost to elbow was a thick golden serpent bracelet with ruby red eyes, sign of Velesh, Black Serpent of the Underworld. Like other Skythian tribes the Tauri worshipped Velesh.
“Come then.“
The Tauri officer motioned to his men. Four of the guards moved in front of Sava and Brata, the rest lined up behind, boxing them in. They set off at a brisk canter. The terrain changed from hilly and rocky to lush grazing lands. They passed great herds of cattle, sheep and horses guarded by shaggy dogs bigger than rams.
At the outskirts of the nomad camp they were greeted and escorted by a crowd of laughing, running children. The Tauri guards rode through camp and pulled up at the largest kibitka. 13 black-sighted human skulls mounted on tall pikes grinned down from around the wagon. One of the guards leapt off his horse and went inside. He came back out quickly.
“The king is with his horses. This way.”
They rode past the kibitkas to a green meadow. There under a shady spreading oak they found King Yagya grooming a tall, elegant gray mare. The king had a long black mustache and a short beard. His head was shaved all around except for a long black topknot accentuating his high cheekbones and dark eyes.
The Tauri king’s chest and shoulders were bare. Loose black trousers were cinched by a belt of interlocking gold rings. A long dagger hung from his belt along with a small gold vessel - the Flask of Herakles, traditionally worn by Skythian kings.
Yagya’s ears were pierced by thick gold hoops. On his left hand was a thick gold ring in the form of a serpent with ruby eyes, identifying him as a devotee of Velesh.
After a grunt and a passing glance at his visitors, the king stepped back to admire his horse. The mare was silver gray with large black dapples and a luxurious black mane and tail. A fine mare indeed. After perusing the horse, Sava’s eye was caught by a tall slender young woman standing close by.
Her raven’s wing blue-black hair was arranged in a high, thick pony tail. Skin the color of pale gold glimmered in the lengthening rays of sunlight. Fitted buckskin leggings and boots enhanced her trim waist and long legs. A snug, low cut black vest embroidered with red flowers over a long sleeved red blouse embraced small curvaceous breasts.
But it was her liquid sloe brown eyes that spoke to Sava. He saw a scintillating vitality, a passion for life in those golden brown pools. Also a hint of loneliness. She is vulnerable. He felt it immediately. But her calm direct gaze met his and did not waver.
“Beautiful is she not?” The Tauri king asked without taking his eyes off the dapple grey mare.
Without taking his eyes of the raven-haired woman, Sava agreed. “Aye sire. One of the most beautiful I have ever seen.”
King Yagya turned to face them. It was then he caught sight of Zlatna. “Nice horse. Is he fast?”
Sava nodded.
King Yagya walked around Zlatna, whistling softly. “What are his gaits like?”
“Smooth.”
“Has he raced?”
Zlatna is one of the fastest horses in Sauromatia. But I have sons by him which I think will be faster.”
Yagya waved toward the grey mare. “This mare is one of the fastest in Taurica. If I were to breed my mare to your stallion, how would he improve upon her?“
“May I speak freely without giving offense?”
“Don’t worry, we are speaking as dedicated horsemen here.”
My stallion would increase your mare’s height, length of leg and bone, so her offspring will have a longer stride and carry more weight. Your mare’s croup is high, short and flat. As you see, my stallion has a long, sloping, rounded croup. This enables him to get his hindquarters farther under his body. It gives him a longer stride in the gallop and the ability to leap higher over obstacles.”
“Makes sense. I don’t know about his head though. That big aquiline nose – our Tauri horses have more beautiful faces.”
“True sire, but you do not ride a beautiful face. Zlatna’s `ram nose’ is characteristic of the Nisean breed from which he is descended. We find the ram nose horses to be bolder, more aggressive in hunting and in battle. And while one does not ride a pretty head, you do ride the mind. When I look upon my stallion’s aquiline profile, it speaks to me of his brave, bold character. Zlatna’s speed and courage has saved my life more than once.”
The Tauri king nodded thoughtfully, then turned and went back to grooming his mare. He used a boar bristle brush, the wooden handle carved into a lifelike boar. The mare dropped her head, enjoying the attention.
Neither Sava nor anyone else became impatient or felt slighted. It was pleasurable to admire such a noble animal. The horse being the true nobility of Skythia.
&nb
sp; After a time the Tauri officer approached and spoke in the king’s ear.
“So Sava, son of Skopasis, what is this urgent message you bear from Sauromatia?” Yagya asked as he continued grooming the mare.
“Sire, King Darius is coming with an army to invade Skythia. We have come to invite the Tauri to a council of war in Royal Skythia at Tanais. My king, Raymaxos sends you this as a gesture of his good will.”
Bowing his head, Sava held out the gold serpent bracelet with both hands. King Yagya perused the heavy gold bracelet without touching it, then flicked his wrist. A guard stepped forward and accepted the bracelet for him. Sava sensed the king was pleased.
“Tonight we will feast. You will present your case before my nobles. For now, you and your friend” – Yagya’s perceptive eyes flashed over the gaunt, slightly trembling Black Cloak, “Rest and refresh yourselves. Your companion looks as if he can barely stand.”
“Aye that is true sire. I found him near to death in Melanchaenia. He was stabbed in the throat. It is a great wonder that he survived.”
Yagya nodded and instructed the guard: “Take these men to my wagon. Tell my women to care for the Black Cloak. He appears near collapse.”
Sorsha’s glimmering brown eyes studied the tall, lithe stranger as he spoke with King Yagya. A slight smile played around his sculpted lips, his expression calm yet aware.
Then the Sauromatian emissary glanced over and saw her. Swirling sea green eyes emanated a radiant presence, a generosity of spirit. She felt an instant trust in this stranger. He is a lover of Life. Not like those warriors who delight in seeing blood drip from their swords.
All this Sorsha absorbed in the space of a few moments’ speaking glance. The way the stranger stared at her was heady, bracing. Her attraction instantaneous. Intoxicating.
Indeed he does bear a special message. For me.
Taking a deep breath she warned herself – I must guard my heart, for it can make you love a goat. But her heart and mind were adamant about Sava. He is Worthy.
An intense attraction bloomed In Sorsha’s vulnerable heart. A need so intense it was painful. She wanted to get close to Him. To press against that broad chest. To feel those strong arms coil around her body. To gaze into his luminous eyes and feel the fire.
But when will I get the chance? The Sauromatian will only be here a few days. I will have to find a way. And soon.
Chapter 16 – Golden Skulls
The skulls of their enemies
The Skythians treat as follows –
Having sawn off the portion
Below the eyebrows,
They cover the outside with leather.
If he is rich, he lines the inside with gold
And uses the skull as a drinking cup.
They do the same with skulls of their own kin
If they have been at feud with them.
When strangers come to visit
These skulls are handed around
And the host tells how these were his relations
Who made war upon him –
Herodotus – The Histories
Sava and Brata sat cross-legged on densely woven, colorful woolen carpets, feasting in the open air with Yagya and his nobles. Face inscrutable, the Black Cloak leaned against the wheel of a wagon parked behind him. His eyes held a cold watchfulness. He ate little, forcing a few mashed tidbits down his still raw and ravaged throat.
Each man had his own servant to fill his bowl with spicy seasoned meat in which flat bread was dipped and eaten with the fingers. Sava’s servant handed him a gold-lined cup made from a human skull. He took only a sip of koumiss and set it down.
After the meal was over, Yagya wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaned back and stretched his crossed legs.
“Tell us Sava, son of Skopasis – Why should the Tauri risk disaster by joining this alliance against Persia?”
As Sava presented his case he saw that the tribesmen were unimpressed. However their dark eyes flashed when he described the speed of Sauromatian horses which could be traded to them as a benefit of joining the alliance.
A Tauri noble seated to Yagya’s right rose. “I am Voivode Baxagos. No matter what incentives you offer, it still makes no sense for the Tauri to sacrifice good men to this desperate cause. We know that Darius seeks revenge against Royal Skythia not Taurica.”
“I ask you,” Baxagos continued, spreading his arms, “Why didn’t the Sons of Skyles seek our counsel before their ill advised invasion of Medea? Nay, the Royal Skythians in their `wisdom’, were not interested in us then. Why only now when Darius is at their doorstep, bent on revenge? Why only now, when Royal Skythia has no choice but to go down on the knee, begging for allies?! Begging us to pay the price for their reckless actions!”
This blunt objection brought a buzz of animated discussion. Another Tauri noble rose, vehement protest written on his face -
“We skythians constantly war with each other for grazing lands and plunder. This is our life. And now you think to unite us against the greatest empire on earth? To bring us all together as brothers?”
Another noble rose - “You give nothing but vain promises. Is this reason enough to be swept into this war against Persia? We could end up with nothing but death as our reward! But never fear, according to young Sava here we will have plenty of Sauromatian gold to eat. We will all die as wealthy men!”
This challenge brought raucous laughter, stirring more zealous debate between the king and his nobles. Sava remained silent, watching their faces, listening closely. He sensed the Tauri would come to the council. If only for the pleasure of publicly insulting Royal Skythia.
The Black Cloak also listened closely to the debate. As he regained strength, it was like waking from a long sleep. Forever changed.
He had fought many bloody battles against the enemies of his people. Now he was a tortured soul, searching for righteousness, betrayed by his own people, yet plagued by guilt.
As if an invisible demon had followed Brata from the Dark House. Hovering like a dark cloud it hissed in his ear: I should have died in the Dark House. It was my duty to accompany Prince Kanxa to the Other World. To be his friend and guardian as I was in this life.
Brata had consoled his guilt with the belief that the goddess had saved his life for a higher purpose. Now, for the first time he realized the scope and gravity of Sava’s mission. He was inspired with a new purpose in life - to aid Sava in his mission save Skythia.
The heated debate went on. For the Tauri took great enjoyment in making a bargain. Why should they grace the war council with their presence for nothing? Finally King Yagya waved a serpent-ringed hand for silence. He gazed at Sava -
“We are agreed to send a delegation to the war council. Under one condition. You say that if we join the alliance, Skopasis will trade Sauromatian horses with us. You claim your horses are the fastest in all Skythia and Sauromatia. But we have no proof of this. We propose a race tomorrow morning. Your stallion against ten of our best.”
“How far?”
“Not far. Ten miles. Each way.
20 miles?! Sava repressed a groan.
“Sire, my horse and I have traveled a long, hard road. My stallion has endured much and is in poor condition. He was wounded by lions and then pushed hard for days with little rest or food. He is still not fully recovered. He might break down completely in a race that long. My Zlatna is a great horse but he is not made of iron.”
“Pah.” Yagya spit out a small bone, instantly snapped up by a rangy dog. “20 miles is but a warm up for a great `thousand mile’ champion like your stallion. All the better if he is a little down in condition. Do you think your horse will be in top condition during the war? Nay, he will be in worse shape than he is now.”
“We want to see how your prize Sauromatian horse performs against ours under hardship conditions.” Voivode Baxagos added. “You can always stop if your horse is breaking down. We have no problem with that. Extravagant claims are easy to make. We want a
real test. If we already have superior horses to yours, what is the advantage for us?”
“Like you Sauromatae, we Tauri are horse people,” Baxagos continued. “The horse means survival. With a good horse we can hunt game. We can out run our enemies. Mother and Father Horse provide us with milk, meat and hides for clothing and shelter.”
“Now here are the stakes.” King Yagya leaned forward, his eyes cold, calculating. “Listen well because the stakes are high. If your stallion wins – you can pick any two horses in the race as your prize, including my silver mare. But if you lose, your stallion will be our prize.”
Shocked, Sava shook his head. “Sire I cannot agree to that. I would never have made it this far without my Zlatna. We grew up together. He is as dear to me as the eyes in my head.”
“Then you have no faith in your horse? Already you have lost the race?”
“Alright I will race my stallion.” Sava gave in for the sake of the war council, but his heart sank. What have I done? Racing strangers over strange territory at top speed, accidents can happen… Dirty tricks…
Talk buzzed around the room accompanied by nodding and smiling. A horse race with a great prize, a magnificent golden stallion. Just the kind of challenge the Tauri enjoyed.
“Good. And don’t fear losing your horse in the race tomorrow. Live for today, eh? Have another drink!” Yagya raised his skull cup, eyes slitted. “Did you know this is the skull of my own brother? The stupid fool. He thought himself strong enough to overthrow me.”
Yagya’s eyes roved around the circle of Tauri nobles. “The skull you drink from young Sava, is the head of my uncle. Another idiot. He also plotted to betray me. Now they drink to my health. Hah!”
Chapter 17 – Tauri Wedding Ritual
Smiling with the light of love
Beneath radiant brows –
Apollonius of Rhodes Argonautika, 300 BC
King Yagya raised the brimming golden cup fashioned from his brother’s skull and took a deep draught. His nobles also raised their skull cups in grinning tribute.