Chapter 23. Hands and Hearts
The Nomads have great knowledge of their environment, they use a vast selection of plants and animals for nutrition and medicinal needs. A detailed investigation of those substances, would prove very useful in preventing sickness and prolonging life. Foremost of these is the Green crystal they call Grana, it is held sacred by the Nomads.
There are two other substances, one called Tral and the other named Tran, I have not yet determined the significance of these additional substances.
There are other minerals too that seem to hold great power over the Nomads but the tribe's Elders are reluctant to talk about them and say only that they are forbidden.
From the Mindlock of Oshismarie Inastro Sistashion.
The morning light, bathed the Great Plains of Darmock, in a warm gentle glow. A refreshing breeze blew from the North, telling the Nomads the Burning Time was approaching. Fire from the sky, was not the first thing in the Outlander's minds. The word spread quickly throughout the many, different tribes, a challenge had been taken up.
The time for the battle would come, when the great sun Karus and its smaller brother Micos, were high in the sky. They would not help or hinder, the challenger or the challenged, who were to meet in the ancient warrior pit near the talking stone. There the eternal Gods, would decide their fate.
Although the Nomads were anxious to see the battle, Andra thought the time was far too short, she had not slept all night. After she accepted the war-ax from Arn, he took her to a place far from camp, a shattered Dropship, fallen many cycles ago. On the way, they passed a pod of Flame-Crests, the large flightless birds had magnificent plumage but like most creatures on Gorn they were very dangerous. There massive hooked beaks could give a nasty wound and their long clawed feet could rip a Warrior in two. They also encountered an Ax Breaker, it had smelt them approaching. Lifting it's heavily armored head, it gave out a warning roar, a signal to the humans, to stay away. They gave the huge creature a wide birth, then continued onto the fallen star ship.
The twisted hulk was mostly overgrown with vegetation, here and there was flame scorched metal but nothing of value to the Nomads. Sandjar had long since been here and taken anything not, destroyed in the crash, all that remained was empty cargo pods and some dried bones.
The bones were all that was left of hundreds of captives, being sent to Gorn from an Outer Rim planet called Trylon. The far off world, wanted to be rid of its excess labor force, after a dramatic shift in the Malmorie Trade Union economy. The easiest way, was to send them to Gorn.
The Dropship was a quiet place, where Arn could try to teach Andra, how to use of the war-ax. The Nomads never went there, believing the ship was haunted. Andra knew there were no such things, as demons or ghosts. Being a Nomad, Arn still checked to make sure all was well.
After a lengthy time mock fighting, the King lowered his weapon, “Hold your weapon higher, you are leaving your right side exposed,” Arn was not pleased by his pupil's slow progress.
On the other hand, Andra was growing tired of his constant criticism, “If I hold it any higher, I won’t be able to cover my left side.”
They had been practicing with their battle axes, since before dawn. Arn could see some progress in Andra’s defensive techniques but she had a long way to go, before any hope of defeating Ashra could be achieved.
He tried to make Andra understand, “When you lower your ax, he will strike for the head. You can keep fighting with a cut to the arm or leg but if your head is gone, they will not know what to do!”
Andra nodded once, then held up her weapon, “He thinks he knows everything,” she muttered under her breath.
The King moved towards her once more, he swung at her head. She ducked and quickly moved to the side, as she did, she saw an opening and swung her unfamiliar weapon at the Nomad's exposed side.
Instantly, Arn saw what she was doing and wheeled around, leaving her ax striking at empty air. Moving back, he looked at her, “You cannot defeat empty space, you must find a place for the tooth to bite.”
Andra was hot and tired, she suddenly dropped her weapon and sat down on a broken fragment of wall. She breathed in the warm morning air, “How about we take a break,” she panted, “or don’t ever Nomads rest?”
The King came over to her and looked at her closely, “Warriors rest but death does not!” He saw that Andra was indeed very tired. She needs rest, I have been training her too hard; he sat down beside her, “Very well, we shall rest.”
While they rested, the King watched her; Andra is thinking of the battle ahead, she thinks she is going to die. I must give her courage, without courage there is no hope and without hope you die. Arn smiled at her, “You are doing very well, if I was Ashra-Doom, I would be praying to Horcon to change my fate.”
Andra knew he was trying to brighten her spirits, she had done the same thing, when she was about to lead her company into battle. She remembered how they looked at her, when they heard her encouraging words. It made her feel good, she decided to give the same pleasure to Arn.
“Yes, I think I can win,” she smiled; right before he cuts out my heart! She decided it was not, something to dwell upon and changed the subject, “What’s it like being a King?” she asked, looking the Outlander in the eyes.
For a moment, Arn did not know what to say; I cannot tell how I feel, “The Gods decide who is King, it does not matter how you feel, you must be King” he said. He decided it was his turn to change the subject, “Is there a mate waiting for you on your home world?”
Andra shook her head, “No, there is no one waiting.” There is no one because they are all dead, just like I will be soon. I should be dead, it’s what I deserve for what I did. Andra suddenly got to her feet and held up her ax, “Shall we continue?”
Arn also rose to his feet, he was about to go with her, then he stopped and looked at his ax, “Wait a moment, my ax head is loose, I need to tighten it.”
Andra nodded her head to assent, “Sure.” She lowered her guard and Arn suddenly struck out with the blunt end of his weapon. It hit her in the chest and sent her crashing against the Dropship's hull. The noise scared off a flock of Field-birds nesting in the broken plates.
As Andra gasped for breath, Arn walked over, he placed the sharp blade of his weapon against her neck, “Death is everywhere, even in the hand of a friend, you must always be ready.” He held out his hand to her, she took it and he started to pull her up. As he did, she twisted suddenly, placing her right foot behind his, she pushed with all her might and threw him onto his back.
Andra stood over him with a grin on her face, “Yes, everywhere.”
A smile crossed the King’s face; this woman is clever, perhaps Horcon will smile on her. He held out his hand to her, “A clever trick, now can you help me up?”
Without thinking, Andra held out her hand, Arn took it and pulled her off balance, onto the ground beside him, they both laughed.
Andra looked into his eyes, only a short time ago, they showed no sign of humanity, no trace of mercy, nothing but death. Now they shone brightly with something else, a deep inner need and strength, even a schoolgirl could see its meaning. Love!
At the same time, the King could see into Andra's eyes. He did not want to look but he did, something was pulling him, something stronger than the traditions of his tribe, or the will of the Gods.
Love.
They kissed, in that brief moment, nothing mattered, neither the will of the Gods nor the laws of the Almadra. It all drifted away, like the dying shadows around them as Gorn’s twin suns, rose higher in the morning sky. There was no time, no future, no past, only the moment, what was written in the Book of Isarie did not matter, nor the feelings of a schoolgirl, all that mattered was the beating of their two hearts.
They did not know but they were not alone. Hidden in the structure's broken bulkheads, someone had been sleeping, someone who wanted to get away from the noise and laughter at the Gathering. Someone who wanted to be away
from all the fools!
Anais crouched behind a broken cargo box, he had been watching in silence for some time. He watched his brother trying to teach the Off-Worlder, how to wield a war-ax. He watched as she tricked him and they both tumbled to the ground. Now he watched, as Arn betrayed his tribe.
I can use this, I can use this against my brother but I will need more, I will need the Gods on my side; he thought. He held back a laugh and slowly moved away from the Dropship, into the open grassland. There are no Gods but fools still believe in them and that will put a strong weapon in my hand!
He continued to walk, all the while laughing in his heart.
Osh had heard about Andra's challenge, he also heard, there was little hope the Off-Worlder would survive. By all his calculations, it seemed they were going to be right.
Osh paced back and forth in his wagon. Endo sat in one corner slowly chewing on a broken Rimar rib bone. He washed it down, by sucking up large quantities of Trofar milk from a clay pot.
“What was she thinking?” he asked himself but he directed it at the Sandjar, “A Selcarie woman is no match for a warrior of the Almadra.” He shook his large head, “Even if you factor in Highburges' principle of uncertainty, which says there is no such thing as a certainty. There is every possibility she will be killed.”
“Killed?” asked Endo.
“Yes killed!” replied the old man, “Dead, no longer functioning, terminated, dead!”
“Mother, dead?”
“Correct, she will no longer be your mother.” The old man did not know what else to say. If you try to help her, you will most surely die; he thought; but she helped you at the Dropship, can you desert her now? He began to pace again, “Perhaps I can reason with them, make them see that fighting in not the way?” He shook his head; fighting is their way. It would be easier, to calculate the number of grains of sand, on all the worlds in the galaxy, than persuade them not to fight.
He started just such a calculation, he was half way through, when he suddenly stopped. No! You must help her. He looked at Endo again, “I cannot leave you alone here, you must come with me and try to save her!”
Endo dropped the leg bone and stood up on his small legs, his voice had a certain understanding, it had not been there before, “Save mother!” he said strongly.
At the time Osh did not know the depth of those two words but they would come to mean the difference between life and death.
The Nomad's challenge pit, had not been used for some time. Dug out of the ground and surrounded by a stone complex, it was like a colossal dome. The pit was in the center and around it were tiered rows of stone seat. It had been used mostly by Kings, to settle arguments over Grana rights, or territories but with the truce in effect, it was a bit overgrown and in need of attention.
Agart had the task of making sure it would be ready when the time came. He checked that the ground was cleared of rocks or other debris that might trip a combatant, or give an advantage to another. He walked the floor himself, to check if the ground was too soft or too hard and that there were no weapons hidden in the earth.
It was not, unusual to find a warrior, who wanted to increase his chances of winning a challenge, would hide a weapon. It was against the laws of the tribes and against the laws of Isarie but some still tried. After searching carefully, he found no weapons and declared the pit ready for use.
He looked across at two trusted warriors, “Make sure no one enters the pit,” his words carried the authority of a Prince of the Almadra.
The two guards lifted their weapons in a salute, “It shall be done,” they said in unison.
With one last look into the pit, he walked away. All is ready for the challenge, I have done my part to ensure the Judgment of Isarie is fair. If the Selcarie woman dies, then it is the will of the Gods, not mine; he thought. A small smile crossed his handsome face, then quickly vanished.
Then he went to attend to the many matters of the tribe. He was also disturbed that Seeda had not been at the Talk-stone, now he had to search for her once more. She is a Princess, he thought; a Princess should know how to act. He did not have to look for long.
He found her standing near her tent, washing her hands and face in an iron basin, most of her armor was removed. Her long golden hair was undone and lying across her back in loose waves. A sight that would have raised the blood of any Outlands warrior and turned their thoughts to mating. She filled the Prince's mind with anger. He walked towards her, while murmuring under his breath.
Seeda cupped her hands and pulled the cool water out of the basin, then splashed it against her body, the water felt good on her skin. The day will be warm, the mating time is coming; she thought; will Almec bring me food? Though the morning sun was bright and there was a hot breeze blowing from the North, she was cold. She splashed more water onto her face, then dried it with the course towel lying next to the basin.
Her brother spoke, “Are you a Princess of the Almadra or not?”
From the sound of his voice, Seeda knew it wasn't a question, “Have the Gods made you King now?” she shouted back; he treats me like a slave.
“You were not at the Talk-stone, you were not at the Tooth Making, you should be by your brother’s side, not sneaking off with a warrior, who is not your mate.”
Seeda began to put her armor back on, “What I do and where I go, is my mind not yours, or the King’s!”
Agart looked her in the eye, “You are the King's sister, you are The Chosen of the Gods, you will act like one!” He took her by the arm and pulled, “You will stand with your brother!” She fought back, a small pouch, fell from her belt onto the ground, its contents, spilled out for all to see. Ice!
Agart at the small red crystals, there was nothing that could have caused him more pain, it ripped through his heart, like a blow from a war-ax. The world stopped spinning and the weight of betrayal, came crashing down on his shoulders; Seeda, my sister, what have you done? His mind spun; Seeda, may the Gods forgive you.
Seeda also saw the red crystals, for a brief moment she wanted to run, as hard and as fast as her strong legs would carry her. She wanted to leave this world behind and find another one, one where she would feel no pain. Another world, another world, let me go to another world, far beyond this one; she thought.
As Agart looked into his sister's eyes, he wanted to say many things. He wanted to ask, how she could go against the laws of Isarie and the laws of her tribe. How she could betray all who had given her life and strength, how she could turn her back on all that was right and good, to turn her back on him?
He did not say those things, he simply said, “Why?”
Seeda could see the pain in her brother’s eyes, she knew it was tearing him apart, to see what she had done but what could she do? She could say the crystals weren't hers but he would know it was a lie. She could ask him to forgive her but it would be too much to ask, so she just looked at him and said nothing.
Her brother turned around and slowly walked away.
Seeda stood there for some time, she stared at the red crystals at her feet and thought; my brother will not tell the King, he loves me too much. I should take the crystals and throw them into the fire, in the ring of the Talk-stone. Burn them as an offering to the Gods, then Agart will forgive me and so will the Gods, yes, take them now!
She bent over and one by one, she picked up each tiny crystal. Carefully she put them into her pouch, then drew the opening shut, she started walking to the Talk-stone; I will throw them into the fire, I will be forgiven!
She walked past several warriors, who were busy betting on which body part the Off-Worlder would lose first, they paid no attention to Seeda as she walked past them.
I will watch as my betrayal burns in the fire of Isarie! Then I shall go to Agart and he will forgive me.
Seeda entered the massive columns surrounding the sacred stone, she walked over to the fire burning there. She stood looking into the dancing flames and felt the heat on her body. She stood thinking;
throw them into the fire, ask forgiveness! Perhaps it would be better to take the crystals to the temple of Isarie. I can place them on her altar and make a prayer to ask for her blessing?
Standing this close to the fire she felt much better, the warmth from the flames seemed to ease her resolve. Yes, that is what I will do, I will take the crystals to her temple and pray. They will be very busy with the meeting of the Holy Women, perhaps I should wait until tomorrow? This please her very much and she thought further. She smiled to herself; yes, tomorrow would be much better. She turned around and left the fire of Isarie, she did not look back and continued walking out of the stone ring, towards her tent. She looked up at the morning sky; yes, tomorrow, or perhaps the day after.
She did not realize but to a God there is no today or tomorrow, only humans think in terms of the past or the future, it is meaningless to a God. They simply exist, seeing and hearing all that is spoken, in the past and the future, they know what is to come and know all that has passed. To them Eternity is as today.
Nomads of the Gods Page 24
