by R J Kaldanis
Once the company packed up their belongings and bid goodbye to the owner of the inn, they headed back on the path they had entered the day before, albeit in much lower numbers. Old Man Teme had been able to persuade Queen Iber to part with some of her naughts and crosses, for the sake of getting as many people home as quickly as possible; given her thinly spread the company now was. Through gritted teeth she agreed and directed the party to a large mound, three stories high in a conical shape. The company stood outside while Queen Iber, Prince Chastion and Old Man Teme negotiated with the farmer to purchase all the Osmu he had on hand. The farmer was a younger man, no older than thirty, but his face was like leather left too long in the sun. He was dressed in similar attire to the owner of the inn, billowing silken pants of burnt orange, the crotch hanging low almost making the pants resemble a skirt. His shirt was of simple beige cotton, covered by a red and orange striped vest and secured in place by thick beige ruched belt. Atop his head he wore a small cylindrical hat matching the colour of his pants. Aardriyah admired his fashion, not because it was particularly riveting but because it was different to any thing she’d seen upon Veros. She enjoyed his mix and match of bright orange and moody red; a complete contrast to the blues and whites that covered Verosian’s from head to toe.
When negotiations had finally been settled, Queen Iber instructed the remaining company to go around the side of the house to the rear, where the ramshackle Osmu farm stood. It was nothing more than some old dried pieces of wood fashioned into a small barrier, but it was enough to house the dozens of Osmu who called it home. The Osmu stood tall and curious, their large beady eyes atop their almond shaped heads tilting as they took in their new owners. Their beaks were long and sharp, and Aardriyah supposed not many people would survive an Osmu attack. Their mere height and width was enough to make them an intimidating opponent, let alone those beaks. She understood now why Rachida had named her pet, Long Leg Peg, for the birds had legs almost as high as Aardriyah’s entire body, atop the legs sat the body of the bird - round and wide, covered in masses of thick sandy brown feathers. Rachida rushed to the fence, pointing gleefully at one she had decided was now hers. It was shorter than the rest, much like Rachida was amongst the current company, and had long dark eyelashes, which made it quite beautiful in a bizarre way.
“I shall call her…. Long Neck Beck!” She exclaimed. Once again Aardriyah could easily understand this name, for their necks extending out into the sky from the body below, were almost as long as Aardriyah’s arms. Sekher strolled towards the fence line and patted Rachida on the back,
“You are so creative, Chidi. Where do you get it all from?” He teased.
The former owner of the birds strode into the enclosure and informed the company how to handle them, warning them several times to be mindful of the sudden mood swings the birds were prone to and the danger that they posed if they felt threatened.
“If you find an Osmu scratching the earth with its legs, it is one of two reasons. Firstly, it is potentially hungry and is searching for holes of burrowing animals or snakes. Secondly, it could be about to charge and, in that case, you must flatten yourself on the ground, placing your hands above your head, as this is the place they are most likely to attack. However, if you make yourself small, they will think they have won the fight and will probably leave you alone while they perform their victory dance.” He explained.
“I suggest you always remember they are your owner, not the other way around. They will do what they want, when they want, and failure to obey their orders could see you being thrown off a cliff or pecked to death. Of course, they are open to bribes, and if you wish for them to heed your words or instructions, you must present them with a worthy piece of food. I suggest vermin, as it is their favourite.” With that he passed around a large sack, which carried enough dead rats, mice and other small critters for each person in the company to take about five each. Without much further instruction, he used a simple command to have the Osmu lower themselves to the ground for him to attach small leather seats to their backs. He assisted many of the company with mounting and then led them out of the enclosure and towards the main path. After some last words of instructions to the company he made his way back into his mound house, wishing them luck on their travels.
The birds were solid creatures, but their footsteps made the ride quite uncomfortable as they varied in pace almost every second step, most likely in a bid to get their passengers off their back. Rachida rode by Aardriyah, instructing her on how to get the darn bird to remain at a steady pace and accept her as his passenger. Kit strode beside the birds, not willing to get atop the saddle - it was probably quite confronting for him, Aardriyah supposed, doubting he had ever seen anything of the sort.
“So, what did you decide to name yours?” Rachida asked.
“I don’t think mine needs a name.” She said, unsure she wanted much more to do with this bird beyond the journey to Rovik. Rachida frowned at her, then pulled her cheek to one side, while squinting her eyes looking over Aardriyah’s slightly larger bird.
“Did you notice the white feather in its tail?” She pointed to the bushy posy of tail feathers.
“No, I hadn’t actually. I was too busy worry it would peck my eyes out or claw me to death with its freaking talons.” Aardriyah responded, still confused how some people kept these animals of frightening proportions as pets.
“Well I’m going to call it, White Tip.” Rachida announced, proud of her latest creative name. Aardriyah smiled and said,
“White Tip it is then.” To which the bird opened its beak and squawked, as if in agreement.
Old Man Teme had stuck at the end of the procession most of the time, keeping an eye out on the baron dessert lands. Excusing herself from Rachida, Aardriyah managed to manoeuvre the bird to side up against Old Man Teme’s. He smiled at her,
“You’re getting used to it, I see.”
“I suppose so. Though I think I’d much prefer to walk, I’m not sure I’ll be able to once I get off this thing.” White Tip yanked its neck back, forcing its head to bash into Aardriyah’s chest.
“Moody bastard!” She cursed, which made it repeat the action. This time however Aardriyah kept her mouth shut, remembering she was atop a walking death trap.
“I suppose you want to know where I was.” Old Man Teme said, looking into Aardriyah’s eyes as they slowed down a little more from the company. She nodded her head in silence. However, before he was able to continue, Chastion appeared in front of them. He glared at Old Man Teme, fury in his eyes, before casting them to Aardriyah.
“You shouldn’t be alone with him.” Chastion said.
“He can’t be any worse than you, Chastion.” She responded, still feeling repulsed by his presence, of his new title, ‘murderer’.
“I must have words with him, go back to your friends.” Chastion said.
“No.”
“Aardriyah, now is not the time to -”
“If you have something to say to him, you can say it to me too. I’m sick of secrets.” She said defiantly, though that wasn’t entirely true, as she would have preferred that she never discovered the deepest and darkest secret her brother held. Noticing the company was getting further and further away, Chastion sighed and moved his bird to the other side of Old Man Teme’s and the three continued forth.
“I was just about to explain my absence to Aardriyah.” Old Man Teme said, to which Chastion nodded, as if giving him permission to continue. “I have told you before, there is more magic in this world than you may be aware of. I’m sure your mind is starting to open up to this possibility.”
Aardriyah nodded, of course she was opening up to this possibility, she had survived a ship being attacked by a multiple headed serpent beast, watched as men were lulled to their deaths by sweet women of the sea and somehow had seen memories of her brother, after a simple momentary slap on his face.
“Well, when that thing on the ship discovered I was onbo
ard, it managed to trap me. It poisoned my last meal and threw my body overboard with the assistance of some poor soul under its spell, I assume. I awoke as my body hit the water, but my hands were tied, and I was unable to stop myself from sinking down.” He said, face falling as he recanted the moment, he had failed the girl he swore to protect.
“I prayed to Undina that this would not be my watery grave; that I would survive long enough to find you again. I cannot explain the feeling of hopelessness that overcame my heart, as my body fell further down, and the blue of the sea grew darker and darker. I could see the ships for a while, their large underbellies looming overhead, blocking out the moonlight for a time. Then there was nothing at all but a cold feeling of being trapped and alone. I shut my eyes, the salt was very strong and burning them every second, they remained open.”
“But, how did you not drown?” Aardriyah asked. Old Man Teme smiled at her reassuringly, ignoring her question he continued.
“I think my hands must have shrunk, after not eating for a few days, so the ropes slipped off eventually, giving me some freedom to navigate the watery terrain. I caught a ride on a fish so large it barely noticed my presence on it’s back. It seemed to be heading in the direction I knew the ships were headed, so it made the journey much quicker. A while in, I came across a light trapped on a plateau of coral and rocks. It was my lantern, you see, my old friend had somehow been tossed from the ships also. I was so glad we managed to find each other and were finally reunited.”
“How does a lantern, a candle in a simple glass lantern, survive underwater?” Aardriyah pressed, getting frustrated at the clear flaws in Old Man Teme’s tale of survival. She was annoyed that he took her for a gullible fool, as if she would believe everything he was saying because he was old and wise. It was offensive, she wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t buying any of his story. Perhaps he drank too much sea water, she supposed.
“As time went on, I discovered some ladies of the sea, they were unable to attack me now that I had the lantern, not that I’d be much use to them given my inability to father any children. They didn’t pay much attention as I spied and listened in on their plans. They talked of the Hydra attack on four ships, how they were tracking the ships and were sure that some of the group would have to continue their journey on foot. They were delighted, of course, that there were young men who they could use for breeding. So, I tracked them, followed them night and day as they followed the ships.”
Prince Chastion listened in intently which amazed Aardriyah, he was somehow believing everything that poured out of Old Man Teme’s mouth, while Aardriyah found herself rolling her eyes constantly at the ridiculousness of it all.
“I watched the first night, Queen Iber was the only one who heard their song and came to shore, but she was of little use to them. So the next night, well last night I suppose, they tracked the company to Capap and using all their voices, they sung their sweet song, intoxicating the men of the camp who were weak willed, to walk to their watery graves. Once I sensed you on shore, I decided it was time to stop the folly they had started although perhaps a little later than I should have.”
Aardriyah drew her hands together and clapped them slowly, looking deadpan into Old Man Teme’s eyes.
“That will make a great story around the campfire. Now tell us what actually happened.” Hoping that now he had played his trick on them, he would truthfully tell her how he had survived and found them. Though try as she might, she couldn’t shake Princess Kibo’s words to her, “he is lost to the sea”. Perhaps, he had been lost to the sea, but not dead like she first assumed, was it possible?
“I have told you the truth, Aardriyah. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that we make our way to Rovik like intended and discover the truth of your … curse.” He said, his eyes taking her in. Prince Chastion scoffed and said,
“But you already know, don’t you Episteme?”
Old Man Teme looked at the Prince to his right and squinted a little, trying to understand if he had discovered something he shouldn’t have.
“That thing that threw you overboard, it knew who you were, what you almost did. For all I know, you’re the one luring those beings to Aardy and you’re the one putting her in danger!” His eyes were burning with rage and hatred, if he had known Old Man Teme’s true motive from the beginning he would have had him imprisoned or executed.
“What are you talking about Chastion? He’s bloody well saved my life more times than you have.” Aardriyah was furious at Chastion; he had no right to threaten Old Man Teme or question his loyalty. After all he had been there for Aardriyah, Pateras and Sonas when they were starving and cold, he gave them food from his garden and helped keep the house warm with dry wood from his trees. He had earnt the right to be next to Aardriyah, now and forever more.
Aardriyah was too frustrated to remain beside the two men, one who was adamant on weaving stories about surviving days underwater, the other rude and arrogant as he usually was. So, she made her way forward again, finding a place beside Sekher and Rachida who were bickering over some misunderstanding.
“No she died because she was unfaithful with an earth blessed king! I swear it, every Shahoodin is taught this. It’s the prime example of why unblessed shouldn’t have children with blessed.” Rachida exclaimed.
“What are you two fighting about now?” Aardriyah asked.
Rachida and Sekher shared a glance, before Rachida said,
“The Rovikian’s and their last dynasty.”
Aardriyah tried to recall her history lessons from school, she knew that there was no Rovikian Kingdom now, but she struggled to remember the reasons behind it.
“Oh my Lugh, please tell me you know of The Rovikians?” Rachida pleaded.
“Wouldn’t you wish she hadn’t? Then you would have an excuse to tell her all about it, and of course get it all wrong in the process.” Sekher joked, winking at Aardriyah as he taunted the fiery tempered woman beside him.
“I remember something about the queen dying in childbirth, but there seem to be so many that passed that way it’s hard to keep track.” Aardriyah offered.
“Right, well apparently the Queen of Rovik was betrothed to the ruling family from a young age. It might sound weird, but back in the day there were unblessed kings and queens, they were even considered equal.” Rachida shook her head as she recanted, disbelief spread across her face, before Sekher interrupted with a cold stare at Rachida.
“Of course they were considered equal, just as they all should be love.” He tried to undo the cruel implications that Rachida had just spoken. She blushed, before turning to Aardriyah and mouthed an apology.
“Actually, I think it’s important to note that they were very powerful, the Rovikians. They had a way with words and wits, some of the most powerful political adversaries that ever lived, that is well known among all lands. See they were able to make such good relationships with the earth blessed that many ended up living there, but to pay for their passage they had to either bring a rock in that weighed the same as them, or gold. They used the rocks to make a giant stone wall around the city, making a colossal fortress.” Sekher continued. Rachida interrupted him, taking the story over again.
“Anyway, as I was saying, the prince and princess were madly in love and they lived in a well-protected, wealthy city, enjoying all the luxuries life had to offer.” Rachida mused, smiling as she pictured herself in the scene, gold draping from her ears, her neck, her belly ring, her nose and of course bracelets covering the entire length of her arms.
“But of course, that’s not enough for some people is it? Anyway, the King of Rovik passed away, he went insane apparently, rambling on about hearing voices. He figured the only way to make them stop was to stab his ears, repeatedly. So, then the young couple took over, and of course kings and queens from the closest nations visited and paid their respects, but none more so than the earth blessed.”
Sekher made a noise with his mouth, shaking
his head he said,
“Now Riyah, this is where Rachida tells it wrong.”
Rachida glared at him,
“The story is that the new Queen of Rovik was in love with a King of Olurun, or whatever it was called back then. She fell pregnant to him but the King of Rovik had no idea, so thought she was pregnant with their child. All went well, until it came to the day of the birth. The queen apparently turned to stone before the baby could be born, like her whole body turned to stone, baby and all. Of course the king was terribly depressed, he claimed he had visions of her, that she was haunting the castle. He was so furious at what had apparently passed that he banished all visitors to the city, locking everyone inside and cutting off all food. Everyone died, the place is apparently haunted and cursed and no one lives there anymore, well only thugs and criminals.”
Aardriyah remembered parts of the story from her schooling years, but it was never told as colourfully as Rachida had. She felt sad that a kingdom could fall so easily, someone driven to madness to damn all those within a city to die a slow and painful death, starving children and women alike.
“Ok, I agree with most of it, but of course it wasn’t an earth blessed king. She just died in childbirth because sometimes women do, that is all. I think you forget how earth magic works dear; I can’t just turn someone to stone. If I could, do you think your tongue would still be functioning?” Sekher corrected. Trying to avoid another outbreak of bickering, Aardriyah chimed in.
“Well, I’m actually headed to Rovik myself, so if you like I can try and discover the truth to settle this once and for all.”
