"The Tinganjani Seal"
Part 6
by Osiris Brackhaus
Jalis had known for days that there was something wrong with Lenien. An experienced hunter knew by the musky scent in the air that he was trespassing tawncat territory. When the movements of all wildlife got hushed and fearful, there just had to be a Lindwyrm nest close by. In just the same way, Jalis had known there was something festering in the young four-braid's heart.
Ever since that day when he had talked to the Sirdai first and then to his chieftain, Jalis' 'owner' had been different. Very little did he resemble the spirited, laughing young warrior that Jalis had fallen for so many month ago. Lenien was positively brooding, and there was next to nothing to be done the three-braid could see.
But that night when Lenien sneaked out of the tent in the
chill hour before dawn, Jalis felt that whatever it was, it was happening
now. The chieftain's son knew in his heart that the blond warrior was about
to do something either extraordinarily stupid or heroic, and he had the strong
inkling that it wouldn't be the latter. So for a while, the young warrior
lay awake, listening for the hardly audible sounds of Lenien stealthily rummaging
outside, wondering if to follow him or to stay here and see what would happen.
It wasn't his place to follow, Jalis told himself countless times. I am his
slave, not his companion, let alone his friend. At least, he doesn't treat
me like one, not since a very long time ago. And custom demands of me to stay
here and not interfere with the doings of the free people.
But the demands of custom all of a sudden didn't hold any real weight in Jalis’ heart any longer, as he noticed with soft surprise. I AM his friend, he thought with determination, and whatever custom or propriety says, my place is at his side.
So the young warrior rose, swiftly gathered his few belongings, sneaked out of the tent into the predawn gloom. Lenien was nowhere to be seen, but then, there were few places he could have gone. It was little surprise to Jalis when he found the four-braid's spear not sticking in the ground next to the tent-flap where it ought to be, nor his wooden bowl at its place next to the fire.
Living together with a warrior, mending his clothing, preparing his food had made it very hard not to notice that Lenien had stashed away some food over the last days. Not even for someone so prone to overlooking things like Jalis. Also, the three-braid knew that his 'owner' had hidden an additional blanket among the pile of firewood close to the horsepole, and all together seemed to be preparing for a stealthy departure and a long trip.
So Lenien had left.
It was not a crime to leave the tribe without having been given permission to do so, but almost. A very grave insult to the tribe's chieftain and eldest at the very least, and Jalis had a very bad feeling about this whole thing. Where was Lenien going? And most importantly, why? I must be mad to follow him.
Or in love, a snug voice in his head replied most unasked-for.
Grimacing at the thought, the three-braid turned to where he had heard Lenien's steps disappear in the distance. No one frowned at a warrior sharing his blanket with another man, but love? That was ridiculous. Outrageous. But then again, Jalis admitted grudgingly to himself, there was a bit more to his time here than the mere wish to redeem his honor, wasn't it?
A few guards were slowly patrolling the camp's outer borders, but they were so intent on scanning the grass for any signs of predators or on not falling asleep that they hardly noticed Jalis sneaking around. Or, if they did, they just didn't bother. He was a slave, after all, and if he didn't behave, he'd shame him and his tribe, and anyway, he was Lenien's problem in the very first place. And Lenien was the tribe's radiant young hero, wasn't he? So why would he have a disobedient slave? Or give his slave orders that were not proper, for that matter?
Thinking of it, Jalis realized how little people actually thought if they weren't forced to. Including himself, he added mentally with a flush. What kind of pressure Lenien must have been under to resort to such drastic measures, and even I didn't try to get him out of his shell. Was it his odd dreams that had prompted him to leave?
In the pale predawn light, the young three-braid suddenly made out a dark shape on a hill towards the horizon. To Jalis, there was very little doubt that it was Lenien on horseback, leading a second horse with him, heading south. The young warrior's bad feeling turned even worse, and he inwardly prayed that his 'owner' had taken the horses with their respective owner's consent. There were very few crimes among the Tinganjani considered worse than stealing a horse, and he dearly hoped Lenien hadn't done exactly that.
So, the son of the Spirit Oak Tribe's chieftain snuck out of the camp as stealthy as he could, and once again, if one of the guards noticed at all, they probably thought this to be some new kind of odd training for Lenien.
As soon as he had left the immediate surroundings of the camp, Jalis neatly bundled up what little he had taken with him onto his back, falling into a light run. He knew that he wouldn't be able to outrun a horse, but he would be able to keep a steady speed for a longer time. He could run for hours, and if he was just a bit lucky, he would catch up with Lenien before the sun would set.
----
The last reddish light of the sunset was already paling into a soft rose sheen
when Jalis saw a single fire on the plain ahead. Soon, it would be dark, and
in the east, the first stars were twinkling in the indigo sky.
The young warrior's heart was pounding in his chest like a horse's hoofs on dry ground. He had been running the whole day, stopping only twice at a creek to drink. And now as he saw Lenien's campfire ahead of him, he wasn't too sure of what he actually wanted to say to him any longer.
Order him to come back?
Probably not. Whatever reasons the young four-braid had had to leave his tribe, he would not be swayed in his decision by his slave's well-meaning plea.
So why was he here, Jalis asked himself, breathing hard as he slowed his pace for the first time since he had started to run that morning. Only to be at his side? He'd just laugh at me.
With a certain, defeated feeling in his chest, Jalis realized that it didn't really matter to him what Lenien was doing. At least not as long as he could be at the other warrior's side.
By now, he could make out the two horses, and a figure crouching
next to the small campfire that was burning on a small hillock overlooking
the curve of a creek. It was a good place to make camp, Jalis noted as he
slowly walked up the foot of the hill. Not that Lenien would have picked a
bad spot, of course. No nightly predators would attack on such an exposed
place, not if they weren't utterly desperate. And as the most common threat
on the plain was still the feline tawncats, the creek formed a nice, if not
really foolproof, barrier against them.
Tawncats just couldn't stand water.
A breaking twig in the grass below Jalis’ feet made the man and the two horses atop the hill listen up in almost the same gesture. For a few heartbeats, no one moved, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the soft nightly breeze. Then, the figure at the fire rose, a dark shape stark against the orange flames, and if there had been any doubts left in Jalis, they fled as he heard Lenien's clear voice call out:
"All the winds, Jalis, is that you?"
The young three-braid took another few steps up the hill, replying as calmly as his pounding heart allowed: "Yes, Lenien of the Flying Waters Tribe, it is me." Slowly, he walked on, and he was almost at the fire as his 'owner' asked with utter bewilderment in his voice:
"What among the unburied are you doing here?"
"I could ask you very much the same, Lenien. And I doubt your explanation would be better than mine." Seeing the grim determination in Lenien's face, and the underlying pain he had ignored for such a long time softened Jalis' heart, and the young warrior's added softly: "My place is at your side, and even if it was kind of you to offer me the chance to stay behind, I chose not to. Where ever you go, I will follow."
"Don't act even more stupid than you are, Jalis!" The four-braid fumed, stalking around the fire in wordless rage until he addressed his slave again. "This is serious, and this is no great adventure." Staring at the utterly unimpressed face of Jalis, he added: "I am here against the explicit order of Chieftain Nirell. I am an outcast."
"But why?" The young warrior didn't really see why Lenien made such an affair out of things. "Maybe you left your tribe, and maybe 'borrowed' a horse. They won't cut off your braids for doing so."
"I stole them." The blond warrior's blunt admission made Jalis speech falter. His mouth working soundlessly, he watched as Lenien walked over to his packhorse and plucked out a narrow, leather-wrapped bundle.
"This...", Jalis' thoughts stumbled at what he feared this package would contain. "This is not what I think it is, is it?"
Giving his slave a wordless stare, Lenien untied the wrappings, until he held in his hands a sheathed sword like a proof of his guilt.
"I stole my father's sword." The blond warrior's voice was flat, and the crime he admitted to so plainly was actually one of the few considered worse than horse-theft.
"But - ", Jalis tried a stunned attempt at gathering his wits, "you're not going to use it, are you?"
Lenien snorted derisively, and with a calm that spoke of the lessons he had received as part of his fifth-braid training, he untied the ropes on the sheath and belted it around his waist. Pausing only to look at his stunned companion, the young warrior asked in a voice as cold as the wind from the border mountains: "What do you think I stole it for?" And with a calm, deliberate motion, Lenien drew the blade out of its protection, listening to its soft deadly ring, watching the firelight reflect on the gleaming metal, an odd expression of painful determination on his handsome face.
Jalis felt like he had been struck by lightning. To hear him admit that he had stolen two horses was one thing, something that a stupid boy might do. But his father's sword? All the spirits, there wasn't even a story among the many Jalis had heard in his life of what the tribes would do to a warrior who had abandoned his honor in such frightening way. What had possessed Lenien to act like this?
"What are you going to do with that sword?", Jalis asked, so at a loss about how to deal with that situation that he was too confused to even feel threatened.
"Finalize my shame."
And before Jalis understood what Lenien meant, he watched helplessly as the blond warrior raised the blade to his own head, grabbed his braids and cut them off right at the scalp with a single fluid motion. As if time had slowed and all things moved like in honey, he watched the four golden braids fall through the air, land in the grass next to the fire.
"By the Dark One", Jalis whispered. "What have you done?"
"Branded me as the criminal I am." There was so much resolve in Lenien's voice, so much anguish, that it made Jalis' heart ache in longing to soothe his pains.
"But... Why?"
"Why? Son of the Stone Forest Tribe, have you ever wondered which path you would take if both choices would make you lose your honor? If you'd either have to betray your tribe or the spirits? Which one would you choose?"
Jalis blinked in confusion. "I- I honestly do not know."
Lenien stared at his 'slave' for a heartbeat, then the tiniest smile sneaked up into the corner of his mouth. "Of all people, you, I believe that without a doubt." Sheathing his father's sword, the blond warrior asked: "So do you still want to follow me, regardless of where I go?"
Without thinking, Jalis nodded. It was so odd to see Lenien without his braids, the close-cropped patch of hair next to his temple screaming that he was an outcast indeed. But still, the bond tresses were lying in the grass, and like the hair hadn't vanished once it had been cut off, Jalis heart doubted that Lenien had given up any of his honor. "So", he asked, forcing himself to look at his companion's eyes and not at the place where his braids had been. "Where are we going to?"
"Far away." Lenien sighed softly and turned around towards the packhorse, apparently searching for some more supplies. "Beyond the plain."
Silently, and acting solely on instinct, Jalis sneaked up to the fire, snatched the braids off the grass and tucked them firmly into one of his pockets. This way, he thought, Lenien might just forget about them and would not insist on burning them in the fire as it would have been proper with a real outcast. Maybe then, there would be a chance for redemption. One day.
"And what for?", Jalis asked, trying to sound as inconspicuous as possible.
"Bring home a lost spirit", the blond warrior replied, returning to the fire with a batch of dried meat in his hand, the sword still dangling at his side. "At least, this is what I think I will do."
"So it was your dream", Jalis stated and almost reflexively started to prepare dinner.
"Yes." Lenien seemed immeasurably relieved that his companion apparently felt no need to push the matter any further. Silently, he watched Jalis with a growing smile on his face, then after a long while, when a simple stew on the fire filled the cold air with a pungent fragrance, he asked softly: "Why do YOU do this?"
"What?" The young warrior blinked in surprise. "Following you? But I owe you a year. And, as I am still in your dept for being such an oaf, I owe you even more."
Lenien laughed softly, rubbing the short hair at his temple. "For one, you still are an oaf for following me. But I don't have any more braids than you do, Jalis, not any longer. There is no obligation for you to stay."
Silently, Jalis continued stirring the stew for a while before he looked up and replied evenly: "Not by tradition, no. But we both make a difference between honor and tradition, don't we?"
Lenien nodded silently, a fond smile on his face. Relief seemed to flood his whole body, making him feel almost giddy, and the young braidless warrior realized how much he had suffered of his decision. Acting true to one's heart was a good thing, but he had never been really alone for all his life. The tribe had always surrounded him, if not in person, then in his heart. Today, during his ride, he had felt as lonely as never before in his life. Slowly, Lenien realized he was truly glad to have someone at his side, and it was even better to know that it would be someone as steadfast as Jalis. More and more, his smile grew into a fiendish grin, and he silently moved over to crouch on the ground next to him.
"Actually", he started, snickering as Jalis jerked around in surprise, "I think I owe you as well."
"What could you owe me?", the broad warrior asked, his surprised shout muffled as Lenien suddenly moved forward like a striking green-grass snake, kissing him almost ferociously.
"You came to me to redeem your honor", Lenien said still grinning when his left Jalis to catch some breath. "And I treated you even worse than you treated me. And that's double worse as I am smart enough to know better."
"I don't think that was a compliment...", Jalis commented hesitantly, tasting his lips for the blond man's lingering kiss.
"Ah. Don't think. You're not good at it anyway." Again, Lenien bent forward to kiss his companion, more passionate, with a definite longing in his touch, and much to his joy found his kisses returned in like.
Suddenly, he separated from Jalis again, asking: "Actually, where is your horse? We shouldn't leave it outside the camp over night."
Jalis grinned sheepishly. "There is no horse. I ran."
"You ran the whole distance? What kind of man are you?" Lenien sounded more impressed than disbelieving. "All the spirits, Jalis, are you sure you're not the son of a bolve-spirit?"
Again, the young warrior shrugged. "I think I am a pretty ordinary man", he replied, earning a dirty grin from Lenien.
"You don't look very ordinary to me", the blond Tinganjani replied, pushing Jalis down to lie next to the fire, who willingly obliged.
Kissing him once more, Lenien whispered into his ear: "And I wonder if there is any of your amazing stamina left in you for me tonight...."
----
Nine days they traveled, riding across the plain, avoiding the routes they
knew could bring them close to another tribe. To both of them, it felt odd
beyond words to live without the constant chatter of the tribe, but at the
same time, they reveled in the sudden freedom they found in their new life.
Neither Lenien nor Jalis ever brought up the matter of their travel's destination, nor did they ever speak of what they had left behind. Also, no word was lost on why they shared their blankets at night, if it was merely to get rid of the tension or if there was more in their hearts for each other.
Sharing what little duties their days brought was simple and hardly ever needed to be spoken of. They had shared each other's life for more than a year by now, and they acted in tandem as if they had known each other all their life.
On the evening of their ninth day, when they made camp, they could already see the trading post. For two days, the border mountains had been growing ahead of them, like a gray, barren wall rising out of the plain. There was only one gap among the towering cliffs, where the plain rose gently enough for some grass still cling to the stony ground. High above the plain, on a patch of ground that wasn't as steep as the rest, outlanders had come and built a house. Jalis and Lenien knew that beyond that trading post, there would be a mountain pass that led out of the plain, through the border mountains and into the lands beyond. And apart from the fact that they had to go right there to fulfil the task the spirits had given Lenien, they knew basically nothing of the lands beyond.
The night was already falling, and on the slope above the plain, golden light shone out of the trading post's windows.
Jalis had left quite a while ago to find some water to replenish their supplies, while Lenien sat at the small camp fire they had made and cleaned the skin of one of the rabbits he had caught earlier this evening. Softly, he hummed the song of the hungry moon maiden his mother had always sang when curing skins, and it made him feel comfortable to have a task so well-known at hand. Only when the blond Tinganjani stopped in his work, wondering if he should go and see if something had happened to his companion, he heard Jalis' heavy steps in the dark beyond the firelight.
"Did you fall asleep?", Lenien asked mockingly, "I already wondered if you had lost your way."
Jalis walked up to the fire and dropped their waterskins, all of them full and still dark with moisture outside. "I might not be as unerring as you are, Son of the Flying Waters, when it comes to finding my path, but I am not an idiot." Grinning, he sat down next to the fire and sniffed at the roasting rabbits with an anticipating grin. "But the water was bad, I think. Smelled dirty. So I went to search for another creek, and that took me a while."
"Bad water?" Lenien didn't really sound as if he believed his friend's tale.
"I really don't know. It didn't smell rotten, just - bad. Too many people pissing at the same place."
Both Tinganjani looked up at the trading post, sharing a wry grin. The outlanders' odd habit of staying all their life at the same place, in a house that could neither be dismembered nor moved was well know to them, and it was the butt of more than one joke told at the fires of the Tribes.
"Do you remember that story of the outlander who had traded all he had for a patch of land on the plain?", Lenien asked, referring to one of the best-know stories of stupid outlanders.
Jalis nodded, his concentration clearly more on the roasting meat than on the story.
"It was my tribe who stumbled across him." The blond warrior had to wait quite a while for his words to provoke any reaction with Jalis, but his dumbfounded look made up for the wait.
"Really? I always thought it was only made up." Cocking his head, he added: "Come on, seriously. No one can be THAT stupid. I mean, own a piece of land?"
But Lenien only nodded. "It was during my ninth summer, just after I had received my second braid. Our path brought us close to the trading post, and we thought it was just one of their hunters." Carefully, he poked at the rabbit to see if it was done. Apparently satisfied, he took it off the fire and set it next to him to cool down a bit, grinning at Jalis' longing looks. "You'll get to eat soon enough. And now don't look at me with that 'I'm starving'-look. We both know you won't."
The huge three-braid smirked wryly, then sat down next to the fire and mewled in his best annoying little-boy-voice: "So if I don't get to eat, I want a story."
Laughing at his friend, Lenien leaned back, then folded his legs in the fashion he had seen with the old storytellers at the junctions. They might not live with their tribes any longer, but there were only were few things they couldn't come up with on their own.
"But it's not a long story," the young four-braid warned his friend, surprised as Jalis' face suddenly lit up.
"Does that mean I'll have to wait only a short time?"
"Yes, my boy, right that." Both youngsters smiled at their playful exchange, until Lenien took up his solemn storyteller's face again and said: "Now listen. In a time, when the snow was still plenty and the bolves were still running in packs, and when the young warriors still knew how to respect their elders, - Now, stop giggling! You're ruining it!" Throwing a pebble at Jalis who was choking on tears of laughter didn't really help one bit.
"All the spirits," the broad warrior chuckled under his breath. "You sound just so frighteningly like my father. You're really good at this!"
"If I am, then just shut up. You don't want to wait any longer than necessary, do you?"
Closing his mouth with an audible 'thup', Jalis folded his hands in his lap, blinking at his friend in eager anticipation.
"Alright. So, in a time when the bolves were still running in packs, there was a young two-braid on his first ride with his tribe's scouts. The land was wide, the sun was fair, and yet, the spirits seemed restless. For there was a man on the plain who hadn't listened to the warnings, who's tribe had never taught him of the Dark One. He had given all he had in exchange for a piece of land he could never own, and had build a tent there, square and hard, out of wood he had cut from the trees and stones he had brought from the mountains."
Silently, Lenien started to break pieces off the cooling rabbit, sharing them with his friend who heartily began to chew.
"So when the scouts approached him, he came out of his tent, yelling in a language they didn't understand. 'Good man', the scouts said, 'this is a pretty sturdy tent you have built there.' The outlander stopped yelling, and instead answered in our own language, crudely so, but understandable nonetheless. 'This my house,' the odd man snarled, 'No land of yours.' But the scouts only shrugged, replying: 'We are the Tinganjani, and we roam the plain as we like. How long will you be staying here?' And the odd man said: 'Forever.'"
Snickering softly, both youngsters had to think how this had been the point in the story where the whole tent usually broke into screaming laughter. Some things, after all, were different now they were on their own.
"Stunned by this answer, the scouts rode around the 'house' in silence for a while", Lenien continued after he had taken a bite of the rabbit himself. "Finally, one of them jumped off his horse and said: 'But good man, you can't stay here forever.' Yet the only reply was: 'No land of yours.' 'The Dark One won’t allow you to stay in one place longer than a single moon.' Yet the only reply was: 'No land of yours.' 'There will be fire raining from the sky, scorching you and your tent to the ground, for the Dark One hates all life. But only those who do not move, he can see, and those he will bring down.' Yet the only reply was: 'Stop lying.'"
"Was he really that bad?", Jalis asked softly, still feeling hardly able to believe a real person could be that blind.
"Worse, in a way." Lenien took some more bites before he went on. "He was actually trying to turn rather violent in the end, so we just left and avoided 'his land'." Silently, the blond Tinganjani shook his head, took some of the water Jalis had brought earlier, and added: "Only ten nights later, the sky above the 'house' was already red at night, and we went there a last time. But he didn't listen. And the next night, when the moon looked over the border mountains and saw the house still standing, our whole tribe was up and watched the sky pour down fire on the man and his place, like a burning tear scorching all on the ground." Visibly touched by the memory, Lenien paused to look up at his companion. "There was nothing left of him but a pile of smoldering rubble. Not even a few bones for the burial."
"The original tale was somewhat funnier, I think," Jalis commented, still chewing.
"Probably. But I can't help wondering if that man ever understood what danger he was in. Or if he would have left if we had pressed him more."
His broad companion only shrugged. "Do you really worry about such things? Wouldn't it be more important to wonder where we do have to go beyond that trading post? Or how we are to get any supplies for the trip?"
"Yes, Son of the Spirit Oak, I do worry about such things. We're going to pass the blight that's still there where his 'house' stood on our way to the trading post tomorrow, and that brings up old memories, if I want to or not. And about our supplies and the route beyond: I do have quite a good feeling about where we have to go, so I wouldn't worry too much if I were on your horse. But it's far, many times further than we have gone by now, and I admittedly haven't had any great idea on how to add supplies. I don't even know if there'll be game to hunt beyond the border mountains, and much less if it would look the same as it does here. But we will see anyway, won't we?"
"Do you speak one word of their language?"
Lenien shook his head, silently collecting the remnants of their meal to bury the bones in the morning.
"We're not really perfectly equipped, are we?"
A wide grin spread on the blond warrior's face. "Well, honestly, among the two of us, how much can go wrong? You're strong, I am smart. That's as much as we can ever need."
Giving an amused snort, Jalis replied: "But we still can't eat stones, can we?"
"Jalis - how often do I have to tell you to leave the thinking to me?"
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Osiris Brackhaus
go to PART 7