Sisila pulled away and explained, “I went to the town hall first thing this morning, but it’s so packed. All of the people are gathered outside, spilling out into the park. None of them are allowed inside due to limited space. Apparently the town council doesn’t want gawkers crowding inside. Basha arrived here about an hour or so ago with his family, and they all parted to let him inside. Oaka, Geda, and Habala had to stay outside. I went to say hello to Oaka, and then I came to see you.”
“Can we get in?” Jawen asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I wasn’t allowed in, and I’m the baron’s daughter.”
“Then come along, Sisila. There’s no point in trying. Let’s go see the girls at the well.” Jawen started walking forward.
“Wait a minute—what about Basha and the meeting?” Sisila asked. “Don’t you want to hear what they’re going to decide?”
Jawen rubbed her forehead. “Sisila, you do know who the town council is, don’t you?” she asked. “It’s made up of a bunch of children in grown-up disguise, including our fathers. I don’t think we should worry too much about them reaching a decision right away. They’ll probably spend days arguing over the oath alone.” She smiled grimly. “If it comes right down to it, I’d say the well is probably the best place for us to be right now.”
Jawen walked over, and the instant Iibala looked up and their eyes met, Jawen’s ire came to a boil. “You bitch!” Jawen cried as she launched herself at Iibala.
The girls screamed and scurried out of the way as Jawen and Iibala wrestled on the ground in front of the town well. Iibala had been in plenty of girl fights before, against the fiancées and wives of some of her past lovers, but Jawen had watched some of these fights from a distance and had learned a thing or two. For instance, though Iibala used her nails to scratch, she left her hair unprotected.
“Ouch!” Iibala cried, raising a hand up to cover her head. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, standing up and staggering a bit before she got her balance.
“Because it’s all your fault!” Jawen said as she came up swinging. “If you had left Basha alone, none of this would’ve happened!”
“So I’m to blame?” Iibala exclaimed as she ducked and blocked Jawen’s fists.
“Yes, and don’t you deny it!” Jawen said, winding up again.
“I’m not denying that I had a role in this,” Iibala said, punching simply with a thrust that knocked Jawen down. “I’m to blame for part of what has happened, but I’m not responsible for everything that’s happened,” Iibala insisted, looking down at Jawen lying on the ground. “You had just as big—no, an even bigger role in all of this. You inspired him, Jawen! You kept refusing his advances so he had to come up with something to offer you that would take your breath away. You’re to blame for this,” Iibala spat at her. “And don’t you forget it!” she said, turning to walk away at a fast clip.
Sisila, meanwhile, had sat down on the rim of the well and was crying her eyes out. All she could think about was Oaka—not Basha or Jawen—but the fact that Oaka was bound to go with Basha in the end.
Jawen stood up and brushed herself off, scowling at Iibala’s retreating back. She felt even worse than before, and she tried not to look at the other young women sadly shaking their heads, or at Sisila crying, but Jawen decided to appear composed and brave, and raised her head. She had to look like she was in charge of the situation. That was the most important thing, to appear like you were in control of yourself and everything around you. “Come on, Sisila, we’re going home. To your house,” Jawen added, grabbing her hand.
“But Oaka is going,” Sisila managed to say.
“Maybe he won’t go,” Jawen said. “Maybe Basha won’t go.”
“Oaka will go with him. He hasn’t mentioned it, but I know he will. They’re so close; I don’t think Oaka would abandon him.”
“Sisila, get a grip on yourself,” Jawen said, squeezing Sisila’s hand and dragging her away. Sisila was still a delicate girl, even though she’d moved out of her father’s hall and lived on her own. Indulged, even in this wilderness, it seemed like she never had any inner strength. Jawen hated being cruel, but she wanted her friend to be strong. To be resolute like her, or else they’d both break.
“Even if Basha can’t find Tau’s Cup right off, I’m sure he’ll keep looking,” Talia had said to Jawen at breakfast. “You know how men are. When they go to market to fetch something, they don’t want to come back without it. So you better hope Tau’s Cup is just as real as you and me,” Talia had said with a cunning smile.
After that, Jawen had had to get out of there, out of her house and away from her siblings and parents. Going to Sisila’s house was just as good as any other place to hide from her family and while away the time until they had some news about Basha.
* * * *
Basha sat before the town council. They were arguing, just as they had been doing for the past half hour. Of course, it was getting interesting now. It had progressed to the level of personal insults, spitting, and deviations into previous squabbles. And these were the elders who made some of the most important decisions in town. Basha sighed, listening to them as he sat down in a chair, but he sort of understood this was just part of the process of dealing with his own problem, and eventually they’d come back to him. The council was made up of some of the most important and intelligent men in all of Coe Baba, including Sir Nickleby, Baron Augwys, Lapo, the mayor, the town clerk, the postmaster, and the schoolteacher. Even Old Man had showed up. Most of these intellectuals were the ones exchanging insults.
At last, the fighting subsided. The Right Honorable Baron stood up. “Gentlemen, surely we can agree that the world is too complicated for boys like…Bashido here to go out on quests.” The town clerk whispered in the baron’s ear. “Forgive me, I meant Basha,” the baron said.
“If you’ll pardon me, my lord, that’s no excuse at all!” Sir Nickleby said, standing up. “Dishonorable it would be. This young man must go on his quest to fulfill his duty to Lapo’s daughter. It’s the only right thing he can do in this situation.” Basha sat up a little straighter in his seat, hoping that Sir Nickleby was on his side as the other men muttered among themselves.
“Out of the question,” the baron said, shaking his head. “It would be best for his own welfare, and in the interests of his friends and family, that he should stay. Nay, be forced to stay if he should attempt to wander off. His oath need not be upheld.”
“If he doesn’t go, if we excuse his oath, then my lessons have meant nothing!” Sir Nickleby said.
“Meant nothing? Have they ever meant anything?” the general store owner remarked.
Sir Nickleby turned. “I teach, uh, taught, not only fighting, but also the rules of engagement,” he said, catching his breath. “Rules that must be respected.”
“Where was your sense of duty at the militia tryouts, Sir Nickleby?” The store owner asked. The council members muttered among themselves again. Basha stood up to defend his mentor, but the baron beat him to it.
“Gentlemen, please—we’ll deal with Sir Nickleby’s misdeeds later. We must get back to the matter at hand! The boy can’t be held accountable for his actions,” he continued. “It was simply a thoughtless outburst; the words slipped out of his mouth by mistake! The oath can’t be upheld when it was an accident of youthful zeal. We all witnessed it.”
“Basha, do you feel like what you said last night was an accident?” Sir Nickleby asked.
“No, sir, it wasn’t an accident,” Basha said, trying to be honest.
“Did you go there with that gift in mind?” Lapo asked, standing up now.
Basha hesitated. “I didn’t have it in my mind at first, sir, but it wasn’t an accident. I did say it, and I did mean it, just as I mean it now.”
“Do you hear him? He wants to take responsibility for his actions; he wants to do his duty!” Sir Nickleby declared and cleared his throat. “If he doesn’t do his duty, then he and others will start th
inking they can ignore their responsibilities, which will lead to anarchy.”
Basha paused, tilting his head as he wondered what Sir Nickleby was doing talking like this. Several council members tried to protest, and Baron Augwys muttered, “I hardly think anyone else takes his oath seriously enough that it would cause ‘anarchy’ if it’s not enforced!” Several more council members protested the baron’s remark, as Basha tried to open his mouth and speak out.
“I’ll not allow my instruction here to go to waste!” Sir Nickleby insisted. He turned to the young man. “Basha here is one of the most talented pupils I’ve ever trained. Despite his youth, I’m sure he could handle the trip to Coe Pidaria, if he takes precautions.” Sir Nickleby started to falter, staring at Basha. “And if he doesn’t get himself too…carried away by…I’ve traveled the length of Arria,” Sir Nickleby said, recovering and turning away from Basha. “Many times in my youth, and I’ve fared well.”
“You may have fared well, but that’s just because you’re—or were—a knight of the realm!” Lapo exclaimed. “You had the authority of your service to His Majesty, King Sonnagh, to protect you. Do you think Basha will fare just as well as you did, Sir Nickleby?” Lapo asked. “Or do you think he will fail? Bandits wouldn’t assault a knight—that’s more than their lives are worth—but they’d never hesitate to raid merchant trains in the Popo Hills, nor would they hesitate to kill lone travelers like this boy here!”
“Lapo, you know as well as I do that Arria’s knights, and the army, do their very best to defend your merchant trains and eradicate thievery, but it’s almost impossible, and Basha here has just as good a chance as any other man,” Sir Nickleby said. “Better, if they don’t think he has anything too valuable on him.”
“Basha, you don’t have to go; just forget about Tau’s Cup,” Lapo said to the young man. “I’ve never known you very well; I never even realized that you’d ask for my daughter’s hand. Nevertheless, you made your offer, and Jawen accepted. I suppose I shall have to stand by it, but I hope you’re serious, Basha. That you didn’t just swear this oath lightly.”
His speech was drowned out by others’ protests, including Basha, who yelled, “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life!”
“Gentlemen, please! Everyone, settle down. I’m sure Lapo meant no disrespect to the oath or to Basha,” the mayor said as he tried to bring order to the meeting. “I’m sure Basha is aware his oath can’t be taken lightly. We must hold him accountable for his promise and actions, but we can’t simply let him disappear into the unknown! We must find a way to satisfy his requirement without—”
“Gentlemen, excuse me, but has anyone thought to consult the Oracle of Mila?” Old Man asked.
Everyone paused and stared at him. “The Oracle of Mila—what sort of an idea is that?” someone said.
“It’s preposterous, is it not?” another said.
“And why not?” Sir Nickleby asked, looking up.
Basha thought he saw Sir Nickleby exchanging a glance with Old Man.
“It’s unseemly!” someone else said.
“It’s a chance to satisfy the requirement and settle the matter with an outsider’s perspective,” Sir Nickleby said.
He has a point there, Basha thought, but he didn’t understand why Sir Nickleby was on his side, unless it was just to help his friend’s son or maybe he just wanted to undermine the baron and Lapo. The council members whispered to each other for a little while longer, as they tried to reach a decision.
Finally, Baron Augwys said, “All right, Basha. You will go to the Oracle of Mila and ask her if you should go on your quest. And for further insurance, to make sure you come back with her real and correct response, we shall send…”
Lapo and Sir Nickleby both raised their hands.
“Old Man to accompany you!” the baron declared.
“Old Man? But why him?” Lapo protested.
“It’s my final decision, Lapo!” the baron declared. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning, right here at this exact time, to read her fortune and decide how we shall proceed. I declare this town council meeting over. You are all dismissed.”
“Excuse me, is that not my job?” the mayor said.
“I convened this town council meeting, Mayor, and I can declare it dismissed,” the baron said. “Look it up.” He slammed shut the town council’s rulebook, which had been left open but never consulted during the meeting.
The mayor sighed. He never got a word in edgewise with Lapo, Baron Augwys, and Sir Nickleby virtually ruling the town.
* * * *
Later that afternoon, Geda banged his head down on the bar and muttered to his wife, “Kill me now, and bury me a hundred miles from here.” He hated the worshippers of the Oracle of Mila, but the innkeeper had little choice but to host them. For the most part they were the only guests he ever had. The Cave of Wonders, located a few miles outside town, was a mystery to the townspeople. They hardly ever went there, either too afraid of being seen by neighbors or too afraid of the oracle’s magic.
The oracle wasn’t a real religious figure in the culture of Coe Baba and Arria; she was just a strange entity worshipped by several hundred fanatics who came at least once or twice a year. Their ranks swelled or dwindled over the years, but for the most part, their numbers never rose above two thousand. They came from all over Arria, and beyond, but they kept mostly to themselves during their stays.
“Those worshippers of the Oracle,” Geda muttered. “They sleep late and wake up demanding breakfast at noon.”
“Other people sleep late,” Habala told her husband.
She looked tired. She shouldn’t look so tired, Geda thought, she should be happy and enjoying herself. Not staying up late worrying about Basha. “Only the richest, laziest people sleep late,” Geda said. “That’s why you won’t see me sleeping late. I’ve got to get up and chop firewood at the crack of dawn, while you go and cook breakfast.”
“At least we’ve the boys to help out,” Habala told him.
The boys, Geda thought, fearing he and Habala were about to lose them both. Though Oaka had said he’d no intentions of going with Basha on this journey.
Neither he nor Habala believed in the oracle, but Habala however was always interested in hearing the worshippers’ reasons for their visits to the oracle.
“I’ve a son who needs help,” one woman had told her recently. “He needs to know when he can get married.”
“I’ve a daughter who believes she will die,” another man had said quietly. “I need to seek guidance and help so she can live.”
Habala had noticed the upswing over the past ten years as more and more worshippers had been staying at the inn while visiting the oracle. Habala looked at the books often enough to notice the increase in income, plus the inn was often full enough she had to change the sheets on each bed upstairs twice a month during the busy seasons.
Habala sympathized with the worshippers. Times were uncertain, and people needed to know what was going to happen next. She wanted to tell Geda there were miracles as well as awful, terrible things in life. And sometimes they were one and the same. She couldn’t see anything good to come.
* * * *
Basha sat on Talan, riding alongside Old Man on his mule. “Thank you for coming along with me,” Basha said as he held onto Talan’s reins. He’d gone back to the inn after the town hall meeting and saddled up Talan while his mother made up a basket of food for the short trip. He hadn’t spoken to Oaka since their heated exchange of words that morning, and he didn’t say much to his parents either, already thinking of what it would be like to leave them all for good, or at least for a very long while. Yet he had to prepare himself for that eventuality.
“Basha, I’m sorry it had to turn out this way, but I suppose it’s for the best,” Old Man said. His legs hung down so close to the ground he was practically walking. The mule, however, still had to take quick steps to keep up with Talan’s leisurely pace. “It’s an old world we are
living in, Basha. We’ve been in this Dark Age for over two thousand years now, and not much has changed since the start of it. We are safe inside our homes and our communities, but still we are isolated,” Old Man said as he glanced around. “Coe Baba is protected from harm and from the ills and vices of the outside world. We’ve the forest surrounding us, and nothing much to offer outsiders except our warm hospitality, and maybe an oracle’s predictions. Yet we are strong, not weak, for being so small,” he muttered, waving his hand in the air.
“Old Man, what are you saying?” Basha asked, puzzled.
“I’m trying to make a point, Basha, and I wish you’d listen to me.” Old Man lowered his hand and whispered something underneath his breath. “Coe Bahealfisaba, degarnade…Yet we fear so much in life, because there is much left to fear.” Old Man continued with his speech even as he tried to make himself look dignified on top of the mule. “I’ve taught you only the good in life, told you stories of gods and heroes, but I’ve neglected to teach you about the evils of life, the taint of Doomba and his monsters.” He stopped his mule for a moment and stared off into the forest. “And they are many, not just beasts, but men as well. Anyone can be a Follower of Doomba.” He shook his head and sighed, urging his mule to continue on even as Basha looked off into the forest as well, wondering what had caught Old Man’s attention. “I’ve neglected my duty to you, and to others, and a day may come when you will curse me for that,” Old Man said.
“Old Man, don’t say such things,” Basha started to say.
“Enough! Be quiet, Basha,” Old Man urged, holding his hand up and peering about. “Doomba has been quiet these past few centuries, but that doesn’t mean he’s gone. Far from it,” he whispered. “Many believe he’s just biding his time, awaiting something important to happen.”
“Are you trying to scare me?” Basha asked.
“You should be scared, Basha. You should be very much frightened,” Old Man said, turning toward him. “The Dark Age still remains with us so long as he’s alive. Yet I hope things will change for the better.”
The Smiling Stallion Inn Page 16
