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piosenniel · 07-21-2003, 02:45 PM

Jamílah and Briellah

Jamílah had left them sitting there in the muted light that filtered through the tent’s thin walls. There were things to be done before they faced the youngsters. Rituals to be observed to make the hunt favorable, to protect them from the darkness flowing from the west that seemed to swallow up all in its path. She caught herself, for one moment, desire flaring in her to see her daughter’s children grown, to step back into the comfort of her life. She shook her head at this fleeting temptation. Her daughters would soon be leaving, to the safety of the lands from which she’d come. They would carry her on in their hearts as she had carried her mother. The tribe and clan would be safe and prosper. Her footsteps now moved in another direction.

Her last stop for the day was to see Briellah. Her tent had been taken down, and all was packed away, except a small, oil stove which held the kettle for hot water. ‘Come, my friend, have one last cup with me, before we must leave.’ Briellah rolled out a nearby mat on the ground and the two sat down content to be in the quiet of each other’s company, as they sipped their coffee.

It was Briellah who broke the silence, giving her friend the chance to voice her request. ‘What is it you wish of me, Jamílah. Ask, and it is yours.’

‘I will stay here with the other Elders to join in the hunt.’ Briellah nodded her head at this. ‘The old ways must stand against this darkness that comes against us.’ She put her hand on Briellah’s arm. ‘I will not return to the east to be with my family. I have seen the signs for this growing daily in the bones I cast.’ Briellah’s face grew grave, expecting these words, but not wanting to fully accept them. Still she made no comment to deny the truth of Jamílah’s statement.

‘Watch after my daughters and their children, Briellah. Lend them your strength and your wisdom when they need it. Will you do that for me?’

Briellah took Jamílah’s hand and laid it against her cheek. ‘You know if I thought it possible I would talk you out of this. Look at us! We are growing old. We should not have to think of these dark things. Our thoughts should be turned to our children’s children. And how we will sit, toothless old crones, our bones creaking on the mat, as we cackle over ripe gossip and suck on the sweets our grandsons will bribe us with to tell them the old stories of their fathers.’ Her voice broke, and she turned away for a moment, wiping her eyes on the hem of her scarf. She kissed Jamílah’s palm and placed it against her heart. ‘They will be my daughters. My tent will be their tent. I will stand in your stead.’

They sat for a while, finishing their drink in silence. Then Jamílah rose as did Briellah, and embraced her friend a last time. ‘Thank you,’ she said simply, her voice fading as she walked away.

[ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

07-21-2003, 02:45 PM	#108
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Jamílah and Briellah Jamílah had left them sitting there in the muted light that filtered through the tent’s thin walls. There were things to be done before they faced the youngsters. Rituals to be observed to make the hunt favorable, to protect them from the darkness flowing from the west that seemed to swallow up all in its path. She caught herself, for one moment, desire flaring in her to see her daughter’s children grown, to step back into the comfort of her life. She shook her head at this fleeting temptation. Her daughters would soon be leaving, to the safety of the lands from which she’d come. They would carry her on in their hearts as she had carried her mother. The tribe and clan would be safe and prosper. Her footsteps now moved in another direction. Her last stop for the day was to see Briellah. Her tent had been taken down, and all was packed away, except a small, oil stove which held the kettle for hot water. ‘Come, my friend, have one last cup with me, before we must leave.’ Briellah rolled out a nearby mat on the ground and the two sat down content to be in the quiet of each other’s company, as they sipped their coffee. It was Briellah who broke the silence, giving her friend the chance to voice her request. ‘What is it you wish of me, Jamílah. Ask, and it is yours.’ ‘I will stay here with the other Elders to join in the hunt.’ Briellah nodded her head at this. ‘The old ways must stand against this darkness that comes against us.’ She put her hand on Briellah’s arm. ‘I will not return to the east to be with my family. I have seen the signs for this growing daily in the bones I cast.’ Briellah’s face grew grave, expecting these words, but not wanting to fully accept them. Still she made no comment to deny the truth of Jamílah’s statement. ‘Watch after my daughters and their children, Briellah. Lend them your strength and your wisdom when they need it. Will you do that for me?’ Briellah took Jamílah’s hand and laid it against her cheek. ‘You know if I thought it possible I would talk you out of this. Look at us! We are growing old. We should not have to think of these dark things. Our thoughts should be turned to our children’s children. And how we will sit, toothless old crones, our bones creaking on the mat, as we cackle over ripe gossip and suck on the sweets our grandsons will bribe us with to tell them the old stories of their fathers.’ Her voice broke, and she turned away for a moment, wiping her eyes on the hem of her scarf. She kissed Jamílah’s palm and placed it against her heart. ‘They will be my daughters. My tent will be their tent. I will stand in your stead.’ They sat for a while, finishing their drink in silence. Then Jamílah rose as did Briellah, and embraced her friend a last time. ‘Thank you,’ she said simply, her voice fading as she walked away. [ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.