"The Tinganjani Seal"
Part 3
by Osiris Brackhaus
The late afternoon sun was already gilding the camp of the Stone Forest tribe when the scouts spotted two lone riders at the horizon. With one of them wearing the pale robes of a Sirdai, and the other one sporting a mane of flying red hair, there was little doubt that it was Soraya returning from her testing.
Even before their mothers could rein them in, most of the
older two-braids were out on their horses, yelling and cheering, welcoming
home their latest five-braid.
No one even wasted a thought on the fact that she might just as well have
failed her testing, after all, Soraya had a history of getting what she wanted.
And there had been no doubt that she wanted to become a Warden, as she had
stated it since she was old enough to wear a spear.
At first, people had mildly smiled at the girl's enthusiasm, for everybody knew that there were no female Wardens. Sirdai were always female, as magic was a female concept, just as fighting was male, and therefor Wardens as well.
Yet, even among the Sirdai and the tribe's eldest, there had been no one able to cite a law stating that women must not become Wardens. There just never before had been one who had trained for and asked to be tested on her fifth braid and passed. So when Soraya asked the chieftain of her tribe to be trained for her fifth braid, there was no one who would have seen a reason to deny her what she asked for, many thinking she would give up once she learned that it was no small wonder hardly anyone asked for it.
For the fifth braid required a training different and far harder than any of the braids before. Those who had managed to gain the first four braids were experienced warriors, deeply respected among their people. They had proven their skills from simple brawl to riding, they had shown their proficiency with the spear. They had proven talent to lead warriors into battle and wits enough to bring them home again alive as well. Most chieftains never saw a reason to have more braids than that.
For although the ones training for their fifth braid were
the only ones wielding a sword among the Tinganjani, the fifth braid also
was known as the 'servant's braid'. The young man who had until then learned
to fight and to lead now had to learn everything necessary for him and his
possible Sirdai to survive alone in the wilderness. Which included sewing
and cooking just as well as basic medical skills and lore, virtually every
mundane knowledge and skill the tribes could offer.
And, hardest of all, the young warrior would have to learn to obey his Sirdai,
to serve her, to care for her. The Sirdai were the heart and conscience of
the Tinganjani Tribes, rare and precious beyond anything else, even beyond
her Warden's life.
Seldom was a girl found with enough strength in her to become Sirdai, there were still at any given time more potential Wardens than needed. They were expected to wait at their tribe, to live without marriage or child to be free to leave as soon as the call for them came. Some never got called to replace a Warden who had died or be bound to a young Sirdai, and they lived either as advisors to their tribe's chief or gave up the chance of being called and finally married.
But right then, such worries were the furthest thing on Soraya's mind.
For as soon as the first riders of the tribe arrived at her and Shona Sirdai, circling the two women, the fifth braid at her temple was impossible to overlook, and some of the kids started a mad dash back to the camp, trying to be the very first bringing home the news everybody had expected to hear.
"Do your folks always makes such a fuss for a new five-braid?", Shona Sirdai asked with a wide smile.
Soraya laughed, shaking her head. Immense relief was flowing through her body, making her light-headed and giddy as if slightly drunk. She had never before realized how much this testing had meant to her, and she just didn't want to think of what she had done if she hadn't succeeded. "No, definitely not. I think it's just the fact that 'Varian's mad girl' has finally turned into someone they can brag about after all they had to suffer because of me."
Shona just nodded, smiling. Things surely hadn't been easy for her tribe, just as things hadn't been easy for her.
Taking their time, the two women didn't hurry as they cantered up and down the low hills towards the camp of Soraya's tribe, allowing the people to gather at the horse pole. More and more riders came up on horseback to greet Soraya, cheering and wielding their tasseled spears as they circled the two women.
When they finally arrived at the border of the camp, it seemed
to the fresh five-braid that the whole tribe must have been present. Everywhere,
there were hands greeting her, faces with wide smiles saying nice mindless
things, people patting her horse, her shoulders. Even Chief Sydon was there,
hugging her like a bolwe would hug a tree.
Only her father Varian was missing.
But as spontaneously as the crowd had gathered, it dispersed again, as suddenly everybody realized that there would be a party tonight. A huge one, and that was something that needed preparation.
Somewhere in the wild welcoming, Soraya had lost sight of Shona Sirdai, and blinked in slight irritation as she suddenly found herself standing almost alone on the trampled grass next to the horse pole. The sudden calm was a most welcome change, and smiling, the young warrior shouldered her bag and started to walk across the camp to the tent she shared with her father.
At each tent's entrance, a small fire was burning, less to cook and warm but to show that someone was home and to offer a place to sit at. Tonight, there would be a real fire in the camp's central place, of real wood, not the usual dried manure. Soraya smiled at the thought of dancing around the flames, wild and carefree. She definitely planned on having one or two drinks too much this evening, and maybe even see if she would share the blanket of one of those four-braids that had pestered her with little tokens of their appreciation upon her arrival. Her status as an unbound five-braid demanded her to have no children, no lover, no obligations. But no one could mind her having some fun, after all.
Soraya found her father sitting next to his tent's fire, chewing on a small stick of sweetroot, a calm smile on his face. Varian, the tribe's leader of the hunt, looked like nothing special had happened today, but both he and his daughter grinned widely as Soraya walked up to him.
"Father", the five-braid said evenly, her eyes glinting.
"Soraya." Varian had freshly braided his hair, she could see. All his five braids were neatly woven from his temple following his skull to behind his ear, an odd fashion her father preferred. "How was your day?"
"Nice." Trying hard to keep her face even, the red-haired warrior sat down next to her father at the fire, wondering if she would still look as strong and agile when the first gray would be showing in her braids.
Soraya's father had been one of those five-braids who never
had received the call. Or at least, not until a spirited young woman had told
him to marry her or she would pick someone else. Varian had given up his chance
to become a Warden then, marrying Soraya's mother.
People said that the young girl was her mother's living image, even more so
as her mother had died when Soraya was not even two summers of age, and memory
made such comparisons easy. It had been a simple accident, a tawncat ripping
her to shreds as she was collecting roots not very far from the camp. Her
mother had been carrying her unborn brother then, and had hardly been able
to fight. The warriors that came to her help only could chase the beast off
her dead body.
It had been nothing unusual, nature was wild and hungry out on the plain,
but it had been a blow Varian had never completely recovered from.
The five-braid had never been a man of many words before,
but after his wife's untimely death, he had become almost secluded. It had
been his overly lively daughter who had brought him into contact with other
people again and again, and over the years, his bitter silence had mellowed
into simple calm.
Varian had been fighting hard for many years to accept that although his only
child was looking so much like her gentle mother, she had a spirit no less
warlike than he himself, and countless were the nights the whole camp thought
they were at each other's throats for serious.
Her father had never condoned Soraya having more than the
average two braids, and had been highly opposed at first when she announced
she would be training for her fifth. But somewhere in the last three years,
silently as most things passed in Varian's world, that had changed.
The twinkle in the back of his eyes showed he was immensely proud of his daughter,
and that he was smiling, if even faintly so, was a gift Soraya could hardly
believe.
"The braids suit you", Varian said after a while, nodding. "Your mother would have been tremendously proud of you."
Instead of an answer, Soraya smiled and leaned her head on her father's shoulder, sneaking her arms around his waist. "Thank you. I wouldn't have managed without you."
Chuckling softly, Varian nodded, replying; "Who else would have had the patience to teach you to sew and cook?"
"Oh stop it, please", the young woman said softly, poking her father in the ribs. With dread, she still remembered the seemingly endless evenings where she had fought against enemies so much smaller any yet so much more fearsome than any bolwe. Even first-braid boys had laughed at her crude leatherworks, and even threatening them hadn't made them stop. "I have learned, haven't I?"
"Yes, you have, and flawlessly so."
"I still can't bake."
"And probably never will. But I think that's really marginal. Now get off my shoulder, I've got a present for you."
"Oh." Surprised, Soraya sat up straight again, wondering what her father could have traded for her. They hadn't been on a junction for a long time, so he must have carried it with him for months.
Varian went inside the tent, and after surprisingly little rummaging, returned with a large, leather-wrapped bundle in his hands.
"Here", he said softly as he handed it to his daughter. "It's yours now."
In slight disbelief, Soraya stared at the present. There was very little doubt on what this bundle contained, especially as she had fingered it reverentially each time they packed camp since she was a child.
"Your sword?", she asked in hardly more than a whisper. "But hoshpa, you can't give it away!"
"Unpack it", Varian ordered gently, adding: "Only a five-braid is allowed to own a sword, only a bonded Warden allowed to wield one. Of what value is a weapon to me I will never use?"
Unable to deny her father's simple logic, she unwrapped the
bundle, layer by layer, first leather, then cloth, until she held the sheathed
weapon in her hands. Metal was not found on the plain, and even if it had
been, no one among the tribes would have known how to forge it. All metal
was traded from outside, and accordingly rare.
A three-foot blade of massive iron was a small treasure, and her father's
blade a quality seldom seen on the plain except in legends. It was simple
and unadorned, yet perfectly balanced and tempered, its age not showing at
all.
"But", Soraya started again, still fighting the fact. "I will have my own, there's no need - "
"Darling." Varian sat down next to his daughter again, looking straight at her. "There hasn’t been a sword for two years on the plain that would not have been a waste in your hands. No blade the tribes have traded in the last years is of this quality. And we both would make fools of ourselves if we seriously thought I would need this weapon one day."
Silently, Soraya fingered the heavy weapon. Strapped to the sheath by simple dried vines, there was the belt the sword would be carried on once it belonged to a bonded Warden. If she would be the one? Her father was right, and she knew it, but still that didn't make her feel any less uneasy about it. Giving away his sword made him act so much older than he was in her eyes.
"You've been looking for a sword for me for two years?", the young warrior suddenly asked, realizing how early her father must have been convinced she would pass her testing.
"Yes."
"One thing I always wanted to ask you. When did it happen?"
"What?"
"That you believed I was doing the right thing. That I should try to become a Warden."
Varian looked at his daughter, then smiled again. "You really want to know?" As Soraya nodded vigorously, he said: "Remember that one night when I told you to repair my waterskin? And you had to finish it that night for I wanted to leave on a hunt the next dawn?"
Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Soraya nodded with a low groan. It had been one of the most excruciating experiences of her whole education.
"You had opened the seam for the fifth time already, for each time it had been leaking water somewhere. Your right thumb was bleeding, and you had strapped a piece of leather over it to keep it from getting too sore. You had already broken two eels, and you were close to tears"
It wasn't necessary to run the whole ugly details by me once again, the young woman thought grimly but didn't interrupt her father.
"When you filled the skin for the sixth time and still
water trickled out, I asked you to stop and leave it be, for I could share
anybody else's water just as well. And you stared at me for a heartbeat, then
smiled with tears in your eyes, saying you were all right and I should go
to bed, you’d be ready for me to leave in the morning."
Varian leaned forward to gently stroke a strand of hair out of Soraya's face,
then went on: "And you were. You had a filled and flawless, if a bit
bloodied, waterskin for me, a breakfast and a smile. I have been told that
you fell asleep right in front of the tent as soon as I had left."
Despite her being a seasoned warrior and all, Soraya felt a faint blush creep up her face. Somehow, she had hoped that this final embarrassment had slipped her father's notice.
"The spirits have given you your own star to follow, dear", Varian explained, adding: "And even if it's not what I would have chosen for you, I am not the one to stand in your way. You have a strength in you that can move a mountain, Soraya, and I am as proud as a man can be."
Hugging her father, as tightly as she could without choking him, Soraya whispered: "Thanks, hoshpa!"
Holding Varian for quite a while, she wondered how she could have been fighting so often with him when she had still been younger. He seemed to be the calmest and most sensible man she knew by now, and she was more than glad to have him in her life. Soraya could have still sat there for some more moments, but it was her father finally patting her back, saying: "You're having visitors, dear."
Surprised, the red-haired warrior looked up, only to see
chief Sydon and Shona Sirdai walk up towards her tent, some curious people
following in their wake. With a slight frown, Soraya stood up, for there usually
was no reason for them to see her until this evening.
Except when there was something wrong.
"Honorable Sirdai, Chieftain", the new five-braid greeted the two with a slight bow each when they arrived at her tent, her father's sheathed sword still in her hands. "What can I do for you?"
More and more people came up to stand around Soraya's and her father's tent, for it was obvious something out of the ordinary was about to happen. Even Varian stood up, greeting the two guests with a nod, standing a step behind his daughter.
"Soraya of the Stone Forest Tribe", chief Sydon announced loud enough to make the whole camp listen up. This was no polite visit, and the grim set to his mouth and eyes did nothing to calm the young warrior. "Are you without obligation?"
"I- what do you...", Soraya started, then realized that there was only one possible reason her chieftain would ask her that question. And the realization almost made her drop the sword. "All the spirits..."
"Soraya", chief Sydon asked grimly, "Stop fretting. Are you without obligation?"
"Yes, I am." The young woman almost choked on the words.
"Do you own a sword?"
"Yes, I do."
"You are called to serve the Tribes. Do you follow?"
There it was. The call.
The question some five-braids never got to hear all their life, asked to her
the very day she returned from her testing. Soraya's heart pounded in her
chest, and she clutched her father's sword else she might faint.
"Yes, chieftain, I follow." Such simple words, and yet they sealed her fate more securely as any other vow could have.
"Then so be it."
Chieftain Sydon stared at the Sirdai at his side, and the flare in his eyes indicated that his grim mood was directed at the old woman next to him. Apparently, he had not been very fond of the thought of having to give up his newly won five-braid so soon.
"You've planned this from the very beginning!", it suddenly burst out of Soraya, and once more, Shona Sirdai grinned impishly.
"Let's rather say, it was one of the three possible outcomes of your testing." Shona flashed her an encouraging smile, then added: "I wish I could have given you more time, girl. But your Sirdai is in dire need of you."
"Is she in danger?"
"Calm down, girl. He's in a difficult condition, and in dire need of a strong hand. But I can tell you more of this once we're on our way."
"He?" The whole crowd was stunned wordless by what this little word implied. "A male Sirdai?"
"Well", Shona stated dryly, "I'd say stranger things have happened, just, there haven't. Why do you think I was so eager to meet the girl that could become the first woman Warden?"
Still, stunned silence was hanging all over the place, and it was Shona Sirdai again who spoke first. "Say farewell to your people tonight at the celebrations, girl. We'll be leaving tomorrow at dawn."
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Osiris Brackhaus
go to PART 4