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piosenniel · 07-26-2003, 04:10 PM

The trackers return to the valley encampment

It was late in the evening when the outriders had come galloping home. The heaving flanks of the horses were covered in sweat, and their legs trembled from the exertion of so great a distance at so great a speed. Report had been given to the clan leaders of both tribes – the young had not been found, and the Army of the Eye was little more than a half day’s journey from the valley.

Jamílah and Nasr had taken Husam away as soon as he had finished with his report. Nasr, seeing his brother in law, to Jamílah’s tent, went back to take care of his mount, leaving the two of them to talk as she fussed over him and fixed him a plate of food.

‘Tell me what you saw,’ she said, stirring the field beans and onions over the small cooking fire before the tent. Husam sat on a mat near the fire, watching the embers fly up around the edges of the pot. He sipped on the mug of sweet tea she had given him, and watched her as she moved, wondering if Qirfah would grow into her older years as gracefully as had her mother.

The sound of her voice, repeating the question once again, drew him from his reverie, and he gathered his thoughts back around him and told her of the fruitless search for the youngsters. ‘They went steadily west, is all we know. We were always too late to see them. They are with the army that approaches, I am sure of that.’

‘And Bemah,’ she prodded him, handing him a plate of fragrant grains over which the beans and onions had been ladled, ‘What news from him?’ Between bites, he answered her questions. The army had been rumored to be near their holdings. No, they had not seen them yet, nor had they any new of the young ones. She eked out from him news of the other five families who lived in that outlying area.

All were well, he told her. Their families, he had been told, were all in good health. Even Bemah’s old mother still lived, though now her days were spent mostly before the fire in a chair padded for the comfort of her old bones. The six men who owned the lands would be busy soon with the birthings in their goat herds. Luckily their sons would be able to take the rest of the flocks out to pasture. She frowned, wondering out loud what might happen if the young ones were to bother the women when the men were away, but he laughed and shook his head, telling her of the great dogs he had encountered on his visit to Bemah’s holding. ‘Big enough to drive away the great cats, should they find themselves thinking the goats are easy prey.’ There were three about Bemah’s house,’ he told her, ‘and I’m certain the others are just as cautious.’

He wiped the plate clean with a chunk of bread she had given him, then handed the dish and spoon to her. She offered him a slice of melon and refilled his mug, pouring one for herself. Nasr had come back by then, and helped himself to the melon as well. They sat in companionable silence for a space of time.

‘I wonder where they are now?’ Nasr asked, breaking the quiet that surrounded them. He looked toward the stars on the eastern horizon. ‘Qamar must be settling the little ones in for sleep even as we speak.’ He smiled, thinking of Naar, and Ajdal, and little Ashum, seeing their mother sitting near them, singing quietly some old story to them, as she always did at home.

Husam said nothing, turning his face away from the fire’s light and into shadow as he, too, looked eastward.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jamílah

It was later that night, when her daughters’ husbands had gone to the tent they shared, that Jamílah took out the small pouch from beneath her pillow, She had given her other casting bones to her daughters, but these were her oldest, the ones her mother had made for her when she was eleven summers old and on the cusp of womanhood. As it was night, she held them in her left hand, the one which bore the moon and star.

On the western rim of the world hung the bright evening star, a beacon of hope, or so the old tales said of it – it’s light steady and unwavering, unlike the winking, clustered stars about it. Restless and unable to sleep, she had sat watching it these last few nights. And had thrown the bones to see what their patterns would show beneath its light. An image held steady and became clearer, though what it meant in full she could not grasp as yet.

At first, there were the patterns for a star, and they had grown larger, pushing out the fearsome image the bones had shown her of the Eye when she cast them at the days’ dawnings. Five points it had, and it hung steady touching the quadrants of the north and west. And now the symbol for a man showed near it, small and well defined. What the images meant, she was unsure, they were new to her.

‘Still, they have the feeling of some assurance,’ she said to herself, as she moved her fingers over the bones that lay scattered in the dirt before her. Her hand lingered over them for a moment, then she scooped them up and placed them back in the worn pouch that housed them.

[ August 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

07-26-2003, 04:10 PM	#124
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	The trackers return to the valley encampment It was late in the evening when the outriders had come galloping home. The heaving flanks of the horses were covered in sweat, and their legs trembled from the exertion of so great a distance at so great a speed. Report had been given to the clan leaders of both tribes – the young had not been found, and the Army of the Eye was little more than a half day’s journey from the valley. Jamílah and Nasr had taken Husam away as soon as he had finished with his report. Nasr, seeing his brother in law, to Jamílah’s tent, went back to take care of his mount, leaving the two of them to talk as she fussed over him and fixed him a plate of food. ‘Tell me what you saw,’ she said, stirring the field beans and onions over the small cooking fire before the tent. Husam sat on a mat near the fire, watching the embers fly up around the edges of the pot. He sipped on the mug of sweet tea she had given him, and watched her as she moved, wondering if Qirfah would grow into her older years as gracefully as had her mother. The sound of her voice, repeating the question once again, drew him from his reverie, and he gathered his thoughts back around him and told her of the fruitless search for the youngsters. ‘They went steadily west, is all we know. We were always too late to see them. They are with the army that approaches, I am sure of that.’ ‘And Bemah,’ she prodded him, handing him a plate of fragrant grains over which the beans and onions had been ladled, ‘What news from him?’ Between bites, he answered her questions. The army had been rumored to be near their holdings. No, they had not seen them yet, nor had they any new of the young ones. She eked out from him news of the other five families who lived in that outlying area. All were well, he told her. Their families, he had been told, were all in good health. Even Bemah’s old mother still lived, though now her days were spent mostly before the fire in a chair padded for the comfort of her old bones. The six men who owned the lands would be busy soon with the birthings in their goat herds. Luckily their sons would be able to take the rest of the flocks out to pasture. She frowned, wondering out loud what might happen if the young ones were to bother the women when the men were away, but he laughed and shook his head, telling her of the great dogs he had encountered on his visit to Bemah’s holding. ‘Big enough to drive away the great cats, should they find themselves thinking the goats are easy prey.’ There were three about Bemah’s house,’ he told her, ‘and I’m certain the others are just as cautious.’ He wiped the plate clean with a chunk of bread she had given him, then handed the dish and spoon to her. She offered him a slice of melon and refilled his mug, pouring one for herself. Nasr had come back by then, and helped himself to the melon as well. They sat in companionable silence for a space of time. ‘I wonder where they are now?’ Nasr asked, breaking the quiet that surrounded them. He looked toward the stars on the eastern horizon. ‘Qamar must be settling the little ones in for sleep even as we speak.’ He smiled, thinking of Naar, and Ajdal, and little Ashum, seeing their mother sitting near them, singing quietly some old story to them, as she always did at home. Husam said nothing, turning his face away from the fire’s light and into shadow as he, too, looked eastward. ~~~~~~~~ Jamílah* It was later that night, when her daughters’ husbands had gone to the tent they shared, that Jamílah took out the small pouch from beneath her pillow, She had given her other casting bones to her daughters, but these were her oldest, the ones her mother had made for her when she was eleven summers old and on the cusp of womanhood. As it was night, she held them in her left hand, the one which bore the moon and star. On the western rim of the world hung the bright evening star, a beacon of hope, or so the old tales said of it – it’s light steady and unwavering, unlike the winking, clustered stars about it. Restless and unable to sleep, she had sat watching it these last few nights. And had thrown the bones to see what their patterns would show beneath its light. An image held steady and became clearer, though what it meant in full she could not grasp as yet. At first, there were the patterns for a star, and they had grown larger, pushing out the fearsome image the bones had shown her of the Eye when she cast them at the days’ dawnings. Five points it had, and it hung steady touching the quadrants of the north and west. And now the symbol for a man showed near it, small and well defined. What the images meant, she was unsure, they were new to her. ‘Still, they have the feeling of some assurance,’ she said to herself, as she moved her fingers over the bones that lay scattered in the dirt before her. Her hand lingered over them for a moment, then she scooped them up and placed them back in the worn pouch that housed them. [ August 26, 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.