The Life and Journey of An-uxhwi Son of Je-thuro, and the Happenings that Have Occurred to Him therein:
including his enslavement by the Soakers, and his time in the Wet Lands of the Furthest South
Behold, I call upon the pirr to aid me in recalling long-gone days and committing them to record. May the Gentle Eye of Daxelh look favorably down upon this speaker-in-daubings.
Know, then, witnesses, that I am An-uxhwi, son of Je-thuro, who was daughter of Je-hwun, who was daughter of Je-badulh. Many eights of blinks of the Gentle Eye have passed since my hatching in the Far South, and I have grown old and seen much come to pass. And, it must be said, I have done much for which I will be judged - and indeed have been. I scorn those who have. When the time comes that the Burning Eye looks upon me and scours away my flesh, I hold no doubt that my soul shall stand the scrutiny and join the countless stars.
Until then, the regard of my beloved Je-xejro is all that I care to maintain. For those among the people of Poradrin that have begged me to commit to daubings the tale of my life, know that it was only the joining of her voice with yours that convinced me to relent. I remain troubled that the repeating of my tale, whether by spoken words or daubed signs such as these, shall only keep alive the comments and the curses that she has had to share with me; but she has said, not without reason, that without explanation there can be no understanding. I have relented to her wishes, in the hope that she is correct. But before I begin, know that the Burning Eye scours her soul no more than it does mine! Strange of form she may be, but her heart is good, better still than that of I, her bitter father; and Daxelh has favored her with a good husband and healthy children.
Let those who condemn her - and me - be exposed as hateful and as enemies of Daxelh. They shall shrivel in the sight of the Burning Eye along with their bodies! But those who witness this and dare to understand, I welcome them. If indeed they see and understand and Je-xejro's children may take pride in their ancestry, then my learning of the town-signs will not have been in vain.
I was not hatched in what the those of Poradrin call the Hither Lands, carpeted in green and yellow grasses. As all know, the domain of the People extends far southward, up the rivers and into the cool shelter of the mountains and across the wastes of rock and sand, where the land burns in the gaze of the Burning Eye and only cools beneath the Gentle Eye.
Life is hard in the Far South, but not impossible. For in the earliest of days, before Daxelh ascended to the skies and She lived among Her children, she taught them the habits of migration that they would know ever to seek that which was elsewhere. So it was that when those of the People who lived in the Far South were faced with the Burning Eye, they withdrew to the mountains where the air remained cool by reason of their nearness to the love of Daxelh, and in Her watchful gaze could remain in half-sleep. And when the Gentle Eye glowed in the night, they saw that it was safe to go down and feed, for it was then that the desert saw rain and life, however sparse.
So it was with most of the Flitting Hargh People. How long ago I was brought into life I can no longer say with certainty, for the Flitting Hargh did not count the blinks of the Eyes as do the people of Poradrin. I suspect that some fifty eights of blinks at least have passed, but whether more, and how much more, cannot be said. As was the custom, my mother, Je-thuro, timed conception so that her eggs would be laid as the Burning Eye closed, and cunningly hid them among the rocks of the highlands; of the two that were laid, only mine hatched after slightly more than two blinks, when the Burning Eye had just closed and the time of the Gentle Eye came.
My mother was yet young, but by virtue of her beauty had already acquired two mates, An-ehwko and An-kulri, who were my fathers. At the time of my hatching she had borne but three times before - the one egg of her first was eaten by scavengers, that of her second yielded my eldest brother An-ilhji, and the three of her third my sister Je-kan, my brother An-lhiru, and another son who hatched but did not survive to the time of naming. Aside from the last, these were those that were with me upon my first migration, and I was taken down into the lowlands to Je-xurro's Rest.
Now, those families of the Far South whose children are of a certain age may brave the open desert at night, but places of refuge and meeting are needed at various times and for various purposes. By virtue of the vulnerability of hatchlings, families carrying them take them to such places, which are often established around springs and oases and other good sources of water. Je-xurro's Rest was such an oasis, and it was the pride of my mother that it was named for her own grandmother's grandmother. On many nights she told us the tale of its founding, and I shall recall it here to the best of my ability:
Je-xurro was the daughter of Je-najhwo of the Burning Rock People, who had been prosperous and borne many children. But in the time of Je-najhwo's old age, the Soakers pushed the Burning Rock People away from their ancestral lands. The Soakers, as all know, have long been the enemies of the People, and gone are the days of legend when the People lived along the rivers of the Far South and up to the feet of the Gray Highlands, for the Soakers in their misery have built their warrens and have become too numerous to remove.
The Soakers are large and strong and cunning, but do not understand free will; they mistrust it in others and in themselves. And so, at the bidding of those they accepted as masters, they came out into the desert in response to the raids of the Burning Rock People: not to fight in the honorable manner of the People, but to destroy, seed and shoot. The oasis of our foremothers was attacked in the midst of night, and old and young and egg perished at their forepaws, and among them Je-najhwo; and the oasis was poisoned so that it could not be used. Many healthy adults of the Burning Rock People were spared because they had been out hunting; but they had no elders and no young, and no place to provide for either, and insufficient strength to withstand the Soakers should they return.
A people without lands is no people, and the Burning Rock People were therefore no more. A great many of these, among whom was Je-xurro and her sister Je-lhorun, traveled east into the flat lands of the Hidden People, who dwelt in burrows in the time of the Burning Eye because they had no highlands to which to retreat. At first the Hidden People were welcoming and gave shelter to them; but there was not enough food or water for so many extra mouths, and at last the travelers were obliged to go forth again. They passed north, into the deep center of the wastes, and came at last to the Jaruk Heights. By reason of their remoteness, few passed that way, and yet there was game and some water, and by a wide pool between two arms of the Heights they made their refuge, and because it was Je-xurro that found it they named it Je-xurro's Rest.
In time, the Hidden People heard of this place, and some of them came north to dwell there. And some of the travelers, among whom was Je-xurro, remembered their hospitality and welcomed them; and yet others, among whom was Je-lhorun, had not forgiven them for not keeping them longer as guests. And the discord between them became such that they could not reconcile, and there were battles between them, in which Je-lhorun was slain; and at last the dissenters were defeated, and departed to a further region of the Heights, where they named themselves the Jagged Tooth People for the sharp ridges of rock there. And the people of Je-xurro, who remained with those Hidden People who had come to dwell by the pool, joined with them and called themselves the Flitting Hargh People, for the brightly colored insects that were found near the pool at dawn and dusk. And between the Flitting Hargh People and the Jagged Tooth People there remained enmity and strife ever after.
In the blinks afterward, the Flitting Hargh People had become numerous, and while many, such as Je-badulh, my mother's grandmother, departed to undertake seasonal migrations to and from the highlands, some remained permanently by the oasis, to maintain the claim of the Flitting Hargh People to it, to defend it, and to deal with those of the People who now use it as a resting place when crossing the desert. Among these was the family of Je-badulh's elder sister, Je-leron, whose great-granddaughter Je-nur kept her residence there. It was as her guests that my family stayed that night at Je-xurro's Rest.
I survived sixteen sleeps after my hatching - through the hatching itself, and the journey down from the highlands - and I was past the worst dangers of hatchlings. Moreover, unlike many, I did not become sick, and was never in danger of my life. Therefore it was with pride and joy that my mother declared me worthy in the sight of the Gentle Eye of Daxelh, and deigned to name me. With water I was anointed, to shield my soul from the Burning Eye, and with sand I was sprinkled, that in the time of the Gentle Eye, my soul would be one with the desert and invisible to the withered spirits of the wastes; and I was given the name that my mother had desired to give the son that had died: An-uxhwi.
My childhood was not unusual for one among the migrators of the Flitting Hargh People in that time and place. For the first few blinks of my life, I was carried in a sling around the neck of one or the other of my fathers, whichever one was attending the children while the other helped my mother keep watch on the herd. My parents kept axtin, small but hardy and surefooted, and well suited to the Jaruk Heights; and they drove the herd down into the lowlands for the hours of darkness, when rain most often fell, to fatten them upon the plants that grew best during those times and trade them at Je-xurro's Rest for supplies that could not otherwise be obtained - especially salt and extra water. And when the Burning Eye opened once more, the herd was driven back into their daytime camps in the heights, where the family's hidden stores were, and there the older axtin were slaughtered, their skins dried and cut into strips for rawhide bindings, their meat dried and salted for preservation into lean times, and the blood drunk for easy sustenance - particularly for a youngling, for whom dried meat was a difficult test of the teeth.
As I have said, my mother, Je-thuro, was at that time still quite young and beautiful, which had allowed her to claim two mates only shortly after she came of age. Of this she was right to be proud, but her self-regard was perhaps overstated, for her most prized possession was a piece of edge-rock that she had found as a wandering girl. Instead of using it, as many might, to fashion tools or weapons, she employed it for a less practical use, for it had one flattish side which she had taken some pains to grind and polish smooth, so that she could observe herself in its black depths and use it to apply eye black or to outline her facial markings. There was that about her: whatever she might do in the service of vanity, it never mastered her practicality. She spent less time with her sons than with her daughter, who would lead the family after her; but she was protective of us all.
My fathers, An-ehwko and An-kulri, were brothers, hatched from the same clutch. These were not the names they originally bore - Nefko and Ngurri, as near as I can render them - for they came from the east, and their people spoke a tongue which differed somewhat from that of the Flitting Hargh and Jagged Tooth People, and when they arrived in the lands of the Flitting Hargh People they were called by such names as were closest in form in our tongue. Being the same age, when the time came for them to depart their family, they chose to travel together for a time, and by the will of Daxelh they came into the territories claimed by Je-hwun, my mother's mother. As Je-hwun had become old and Je-thuro was her only living daughter, Je-thuro remained with her instead of departing, to care for her and defend the territory that would become hers. When the brothers arrived, they both paid court to her, and she was pleased by their attentions, and rather than choose one over the other she asked their consent to take them both, and as neither wished to harm the other and both desired her, they agreed.
An-ehwko was, if not silent, then at least taciturn in a way that could put off or even intimidate those who did not know him. And his fierce reputation was enhanced by his prowess at hunting and fighting, for he could throw a javelin with deadly accuracy or wield it in melee with equal facility, and he was skilled at concealment. Several times he proved himself defending against raids by the Jagged Tooth People, and in committing raids upon them in turn. But from him his children received only gentleness and quiet understanding.
An-kulri was less skilled in fighting than An-ehwko, but he was more clever and better at crafting. He made weapons, traps, and finished goods for our family and for trade at Je-xurro's Rest; most often these were of a practical sort, but he was sometimes able to obtain materials fit for jewelry and decoration and work them accordingly. He was also more talkative than An-ehwko, and fond of story and songs. He it was who would obtain our attention when our young minds were in need of entertainment. Though I learned much from both fathers and treasured them dearly, I took the most after An-kulri - not in song, for I never could sing as he did, but I talked much and was good with my forepaws, and he taught me such crafts as I was apt to learn.
For some time, I was the youngest of my parents' children, even well after I learned to walk and fly on my own. Though our life was good, we were not wealthy and food was not so plentiful that they could keep so many children too young to aid them. One egg was laid unplanned several eights of blinks after my own hatching, but it did not hatch; possibly Daxelh saw the worries of my mother, though it saddened her nonetheless. Her burden was lessened when my eldest brother, An-ilhji, became old and sufficiently skilled enough at guiding and watching the herd that she and my fathers could permit the numbers of the axtin to increase. All the while, as the youngest, I remained close to the center of attention - which, I admit, I much preferred.
When at last my mother brought forth two more eggs, and my brothers An-suju and An-nai joined us, I had by that time been entrusted with some of the less dangerous crafts, such as weaving wicker into baskets and packs. More such tasks fell upon me as I grew yet older: drying, hollowing, and treating gourds for holding water; chipping edge-stone into blades and affixing them to bones or stems with rawhide bindings; and carving stones for decoration or for devotion. I came to favor leafstone traded by the owners of the copper-stone pits in the central Heights, for their color was pleasing; and some I made in the likeness of Daxelh, and traded at Je-xurro's Rest to the devout in return for useful things. Thus I demonstrated my worth to the family and to the tribe.
But I was yet young when tragedy came upon us. My eldest brother, An-ilhji, had reached that age when wanderlust strikes, and had departed more than an eight of blinks before. It would not be long before An-lhiru too left, though Je-kan, as the only daughter, might remain if she wished. But at irregular times, often separated by many blinks, great storms come during the day. These bring both great opportunity and great danger, for on the one paw they allow the collection of water in the dry times, and extend one's stores of it; but on the other, the valleys and gullies flood in gushing torrents, and sweep all in their path. In this instance, the waters washed away my father An-kulri and younger brother An-suju, who could not make it to shelter in time; and then they took my mother, who ran back down to try to retrieve them. Great was our sorrow, for they were gone by no act of Daxelh, but because the withered spirits of the spurned dead had cast a veil over the sight of the Burning Eye and stolen them from the world. We grieved, and Daxelh surely grieved with us.
Of eight, there remained five: my other father An-ehwko, my elder siblings Je-kan and An-lhiru, my younger brother An-nai, and myself. Je-kan became the holder of our lands, but she was unmated and not yet of age, and other families began to encroach on what was ours. It was with regret that An-lhiru too departed soon after, but he could not stay, for the wanderlust pulled at his heart. That our lands might be kept from further shrinkage, An-ehwko accompanied Je-kan in her patrols, leaving me to tend to the herds and to care for An-nai. Though this left me little time for my own pursuits, it gave me experience in the tending of children that would make me fit for fatherhood in my own time.
Though the shrinking of her lands and herds left Je-kan with less status than our mother, she shared our mother's beauty, and when she came of age was paid court to by An-orli, a male of the Flitting Hargh People who dwelt at the oasis. Though he did not come from exotic places, Je-kan knew An-orli well from past visits and delighted in his company; moreover, his mother had no living daughter, and desired an heir who would help keep her trading post prosperous after she was gone. This condition, then, she placed upon Je-kan: that she would inherit the trading post and have An-orli as her mate, provided she took no other mate before three clutches had been borne to her. This condition was a strict one in the eyes of our people, but sensible nonetheless; for it ensured that the trading post would not be completely dissevered from the blood of its founders, and that Je-kan would not discard An-orli once the trading post was hers.
The terms were agreed, and in preparation Je-kan made accommodation with our neighbors-in-pasturage to divide our family's territories and herd between them, and in exchange receive a certain payment in meat and tools each other blink, for our own use or for barter at the trading post. When Je-kan and An-orli were then officially united, we departed our pastures and took up residence at Je-xurro's Rest.
It was a more comfortable life than that of herding, and yet it did not take long for it to become unsatisfying. I could carve stones and have a ready audience for them at the trading post, and could also obtain materials that could not be found nearby. But I was of an age where the wanderlust pulled at me, and I yearned for the satisfaction of finding things with my own eyes and paws, and meeting other Peoples, and seeing sights beyond the horizon that hemmed me in. So at last I went to my father and to Je-kan, and told them I meant to depart; and I could do so with a clear conscience, for their lives were secure. An-ehwko gave me javelins that he had made and hunted with himself, and Je-kan gave me a yellow crystal pendant to invoke the protection of the Burning Eye, and bade me to take such food and water as I could carry.
And then, heart rising, I went forth, into the south.
The Jaruk Heights are at the very heart of the desert. Those who have traveled most say it lies equidistant between the four great walls within which is the preserve of the People: the Gray Highlands in the Far South, the Nest of the Sun in the East, the Pinnacles of Night in the West, and the cold lands in the North. In any of these directions I could have gone, and seen untold sights, and had a very different life as a result. But south I went, toward the lands held by the Soakers, for I was young and brash and I wished to see for myself the giants who were the tormentors of the People.
I passed first into the lands of the Hidden People. Now because of the past contact and kinship that had arisen between these and the Flitting Hargh People, we knew of each other and were on cordial terms, and often the wandering males of nearby tribes went to them to learn their ways of avoiding the heat of the Burning Eye even in the lowlands. As I have said, they burrow beneath the ground to accomplish this feat, and they do so in two ways.
The first way is the one I was taught, and is that used most often by wanderers and those who are not established - usually males, but sometime landless females - by virtue of its simplicity. Each carries with them a spade and, often worn as a cloak, a section of canvas. As dawn approaches, they dig a shallow pit, enough to curl up in, with raised edges, and drape the canvas over the lip. The shade of the canvas and the slight depth of the pit help to avoid the heat. Here the individual usually aestivates for long periods during the daylight, for even with this moderation the heat can become very strong. It is important that food supplies be gathered before the pit is made, so that they can be consumed before or between aestivations.
The second and more permanent way shares some resemblance to this, but requires great care and much work. A female seeking to found her own household, and who cannot inherit a burrow or find one unoccupied, may draw on the aid of her mates; if unmated, then she may request that of her kin, though this is not always granted. Alone or aided, she must locate a place where, even deep down, the ground is not so soft that it cannot hold its shape, but not so hard that it cannot be excavated (though sometimes stones can be used to hold the shape of soft ground). A pit is dug, but much larger and deeper than with the first method, and poles or pillars are erected in the center. A very large sheet of canvas, or many sewn together, are cast over the pit as with a large tent, and dirt is sprinkled upon the top to make it less visible. In this sunken pit, and in chambers dug into the ground from its sides, a whole family may live in the shade and cool air during the day, and those who are fortunate in their choice of site may also be able to dig a well from which to withdraw water.
The lands of the Hidden People are deeper in the wastes, with few oases nearby, and therefore most of their water must be taken from the wells they dig. In such an inhospitable place, they who dwell there must necessarily be thinly scattered, and the settlements of the Hidden People, each having no more than two or three families - if, indeed, there are more than one - are distant from each other. I traveled from one to the next, using the directions provided by my hosts at each stop.
I continued south for several blinks, staying at each settlement as long as they would have me - for although I sought to recompense their hospitality with aid in chores and work, even a very useful guest is a burden in such close quarters - but the distances between places of rest became greater, for there was little water to be found even in wells. My hosts advised me to turn either west or east, for between myself and the river-dwellings of the Soakers in the south lay a waterless land, burning hot by day and bitterly cold at night, and deathly perilous to cross even with the best preparation. Adept though I had become at the ways of wandering the desert, I subordinated pride to wisdom and turned west, for it was in that direction that my mother's stories had placed our ancestors of the Burning Rock People, as well as the Soakers who had vanquished them.
The way was long and hard, and it was at least an eight of blinks, plus several more, between the time I had entered the lands of the Hidden People and that when I left them; for when the Burning Eye opened I was required to stop, either as a guest or aestivating alone in a paw-dug shelter, and not continue again until the Eye neared its close. Nor was the way straight; for, even at night when my need was less, I could only travel for so much distance before running out of water, and my path was dictated by the placement of wells and settlements. But in truth, I relished it; for I was young and strong and proud, and the wanderlust was upon me, and I had no master but Daxelh, no limits but those of my body and spirit, and no calling but my own wishes.
At last the land became more friendly to life, and yet more alien, for here I encountered a people who spoke a tongue unfamiliar to me. The language of the Hidden People had been like mine, though some words and pronunciations were different, and although I was never able to fully understand the tongue of my fathers (who never taught it to me, but sometimes spoke it between themselves) many words and phrases were like ours, though greatly changed, and it seemed to me that I could sometimes discern the topic of which they spoke. The tongue of the people I encountered now, however, offered me no such guides; I had no understanding of it, and found it unpleasant, for the words popped and clicked in the mouth.
Nonetheless, my mind-sense of them proclaimed them a kindly people - or at least one adept at hiding their true feelings of me - and they were willing to trade. I learned some small portion of their tongue, but as I went on to a land stringed with oases, I found that they - who called themselves Otarkit, the Red Ones, for many of them were of that color - were more often familiar with mine, or in any case one enough like it to be easily understood. I learned from them that when the Burning Rock People had departed their homeland, they had passed through the lands of the Otarkit, and that some of them had stayed and joined with their people. Though their children came to speak the tongue of the Otarkit in their everyday lives, their former speech lingered, being much like that of the Hidden People and of use in their dealings with them.
I considered staying among the Otarkit for a time, for I became comfortable among them and they valued the leaf-stone carvings I had brought from the Jaruk Heights, for they had no stone nearby that was such a color. But when the last of the carvings was traded away, I resolved to continue west, and see the lands of my foremothers. The Otarkit, living near to the area, gave more precise directions than my mother's stories had, and advice about the current conditions in my chosen path. They warned me that the land was inhabited mostly by bands of unattached males and a few female warchiefs, all fond of skirmishing among each other and against the Soakers. Though their advice was almost certainly meant as a warning, to me it smelled of adventure and a chance to earn status, and I eagerly pressed on.
I, young fool that I was, expected to distinguish myself in battle early, but the will of Daxelh quickly disabused me of that notion. Though An-ehwko had given me javelins and taught me the rudiments of fighting with them, I had not yet had opportunity to encounter any foe brighter than a feral axtin or more vicious than a shexru. As a lone male against a band of experienced males, however, I was, much to my chagrin, ambushed and captured in an extremely short time, with the only wound inflicted being the one that resulted in the scar that still graces my muzzle.
They took my weapons, my supplies, and my carvings; in hopes of keeping them, I offered my services to them, but they laughed and departed, not even deigning to bind me. I followed them at a distance, in the hopes of coming upon them while asleep and seizing back those things that were mine, but always they had someone on watch as they traveled, and there were few opportunities. At last, when my strength ran low and the next opening of the Burning Eye drew near, I approached, out of desperation; but I was seen, and they took me and beat me. Then the leader ordered me tied to stakes fixed in the ground, and left to face the Burning Eye alone and without water, shelter, or aid. They departed, and when the Eye rose above the distant horizon, it turned its gaze full upon me.
You, witnesses, live in a land where water is more plentiful and Daxelh's burning gaze only lightly maintained; Her vigilance is not so vital, for the evil spirits of your land soon depart for the wastes they love. But in those wastes, where She watches for them and they ever hide from Her, Her fire is strong and does not discriminate. The living must suffer alongside the otherworldly, if they are careless or helpless, and can only trust in Her to send deliverance.
And deliverance I received, though only at the last. For another band, hurrying toward shelter, came upon me as I lay, desiccated and helpless, upon the burning ground. And as they gathered around me to discuss my fate, there was a cry from among their numbers. To my astonishment, there stepped forward An-ilhji, my eldest brother! Sick and weak as I was, I was certain that I had lost my wits, but An-ilhji spoke to his friends and told them who I was (for I could not speak on my own behalf), and they cut me loose and bore me with them, allowing me some of their water. They took me to their destination, a small cave controlled by their tribe as a waystation, and left me there, for I was in no state to travel; but An-ilhji and one other stayed behind to tend to me.
How long my mind wandered I cannot say; in the confines of the cave there was no telling of time, nor would I have understood had there been one. Most of it I aestivated; much of the rest I was in half-sleep, and only dimly aware of my surroundings. My brother and his companion provided me with juice until - when I became more wakeful - I could manage food. Possibly the Burning Eye had reached its zenith by the time I began to feel like myself again, though we determined not to travel until it was night.
I spent the time usefully, talking with An-ilhji of all that had happened since his departure. He sorrowed at the deaths of our mother and An-kulri and An-suju, but took comfort that those who remained could look forward to prosperity. As for himself, it appeared that I had unwittingly followed in his footsteps for much of my journey; he too had gone among the Hidden People, and then the Otarkit, and then joined one of the wild clans, some of the members of which had come upon me and rescued me. He had ever been an eager student of An-ehwko and was a skilled fighter, and had earned his way among his new compatriots, going so far as to gain the favor of Arindarrak, an elder daughter of the clan's warchief. He would soon be a father, and I basked in his pride as he told me this.
Inevitably, our talk turned from what was past to what was to come. Though circumstances had changed, I told my brother of my original desire to see our ancestral lands, and possibly to see the lands of the Soakers in the Far South. He spoke of the possibility of achieving these things as a member of the clan he had joined, for he himself had done both; though they were not an exceptionally kind people, neither were they cruel, and were willing to take in those willing to work hard with them. Though they defended themselves from others who would take what was theirs, their own aggression was directed not at others of the People, but toward the Soakers.
This was a pleasing thought. Though sometimes it was necessary for the People to fight amongst one another - for resources, or land, or for matters of honor - it seemed a sad thing that they should do so, when such a foe lurked nearby. The thought occurred to me (and my brother agreed with me) that, indeed, the Soakers were a better enemy. What greater prize of land could there be than the riverlands the Soakers kept for themselves? What greater honor to be regained that to fight those who were enemies to all the People? Surely this was a worthier fight, and once the idea took hold it took little effort to convince me.
When at last night came, we traveled to the clan's strongholds. It was a short journey, if a lean one; we carried few supplies, so that, unburdened by much weight, we could make the journey by wing. We paused to rest and eat beside an oasis, and there my brother and I made silent prayer, for there it had been that the Burning Rock People had lived before the Soakers poisoned the waters. When we had humbly asked Daxelh to remember the spirits of the dead of that place and to comfort them, we pressed on, and after a further flight had reached the lands of the clan that An-ilhji had joined.
These people called themselves the Pa'irket, which I was told meant the Just Ones, for so they saw themselves (though, they added, there were others to claim that name). It was their habit, when not going on raid, to remain in the high and stony places, which defended equally well from both the gaze of the Burning Eye and that of the Soakers, who lived all too close. But this meant that they tended few animals, for there was not enough pasturage in the heights for large herds, and had to live in a way different from that to which I was used. The following is the way of it, as best as I can describe.
There are areas in their highlands where the rock is soft, in the manner that rocks are, and in places exposed to the wind, it has scored deep crevices and gashes into this material, forming shaded places floored and roofed with stone. In these places the Pa'irket erected walls along the lips of the floors, made of stones carefully chosen to fit together tightly; and behind them, sheltered from the Burning Eye, were square dwellings made of blocks of an earthy material which I had not seen before. There were larger dwellings for the unmated males to share, with space for ten or so; and smaller ones, each for a female, which she would share with mates and young children if she had them.
And there were other large buildings of the same construction, not for living in, but, in a sense, for food - whether going in or out. In one, such few animals as were kept would be stabled; they were rarely slaughtered, unless they were old, but the Pa'irket considered the milk nutritious for children and the hairs useful for making cloth. But from there, and from a connected building special-made for the purpose of doing the needful, the waste was discharged into a pit, covered by a lid but otherwise exposed to the Burning Eye. This was generally kept at the southern end of each settlement, this being the direction from which the odors would be least likely to taint the air for those living nearby.
Periodically, ash would be emptied also into the pit and stirred with long sticks. And at the end of each blink of the Burning Eye, when the Gentle Eye began to open, some of the waste, which had been baking long hours in the burning gaze, was removed from the pit and put into a windowless building kept cool in the deepest shadows of the refuge. There, among bowls of water, the waste was spread in layers on wide flat stones, and there they introduced the seeds of their crop - an exceedingly strange plant, for it had no leaves, nor needed light to grow, and bore a bulbous cap instead of flowers or branches. Although meat was eaten on special occasions, and seeds and nuts also gathered from the wild, it was these caps that were the mainstay of their diet, and could be deliciously prepared when fresh or easily dried and stored for lean times.
The clan was spread out among some seven or eight of such settlements as I have described, each of between fifteen and thirty adults. They were bound together by the bloodlines and culture of the female lines, though one's choice of settlement was largely a matter of available room. At this time, the clan answered to the war-leadership of Chirtpek, who all agreed had proven herself in battle many times over, and it was to her that I was taken, for while the Pa'irket would welcome a young male willing to do work, far more did they value a potential warrior, and it was Chirtpek to whom they deferred in judgment on such matters. Before her An-ilhji vouched for me as his brother; and on my own behalf I told of my skills and of the travails I had experienced upon my journey.
I feared in truth that my journey would seem to her too similar to that of my brother - it is ill-omened that one should tread too closely in the footsteps of another - but she accepted me as having the potential for my own worth, and granted me her blessing to be trained amongst the raiders of the Pa'irket if I in turn gave my consent to be so trained. And therefore I was named as one of them, and in the fashion of their males I was sharply marked between the eyes with dark ink; for this was believed to lend one some of the strength and ferocity of a female.
For a number of blinks, under the gaze of either Eye, I trained alongside my new battle-brothers in the ways of combat, with the short javelin, and the dagger, and the sling. I came to mourn less the loss of my old javelin, for the blade of its replacement, and that of the dagger, were not of edge-rock but of metal. Now, in the Jaruk Heights, weapons and items of copper were known, though they were carried only by wealthy chieftains; but although copper went into the making of the metal of the Pa'irket, so also did a dark, shiny gem found near the base of the heights, and some of the quality of the gem imparted to it by Daxelh became passed to the copper. Though less lustrous red to the eye, it could be made harder and less brittle, and kept a better edge, and the Pa'irket called it simply kirepital, which is blade-metal, for all their weapons were cast of it. Though it seemed a common thing to them, I felt wealthy having weapons such as these.
But if I had any misconceptions of status, my new clan took care to disabuse me of them. The mundane chores of each village, particularly of stirring the cesspit, and of carrying its contents to the plantings, were done turn and turn about by all residents, but more often by those males who had not yet proven valuable in some other role. My ability to produce carvings raised me somewhat above the otherwise unskilled, but was not as esteemed as skill at fighting, and I spent many watches devising new and fruitless techniques to keep the stench from my nostrils.
It was not long, therefore, before I longed to be allowed to join in raids, to prove myself in battle, for good warriors were highly esteemed. I had some hope, too, that I would gain the favor of Jethrekin, a female near to my own age who dwelled in my village. Though no war-chief's daughter, I found her most pleasurable to the eye and agreeable in disposition, and she did not seem displeased by my attentions. With some effort, and the kindly advice of the village smith, I made for her a copper ring, and set in it a piece of leafstone carved by my own paws into the shape of a chendik flower. She told me, with an impish expression, that she would be pleased by more such gifts if only I could keep the smell of the cesspit from them. This I took to be an encouragement: that matters between us could proceed further if I could advance myself.
Possibly I was less skilled in fighting than in romance; though An-ilhji's mate Arindarrak approved of my choice of gift to Jethrekin when I told her, An-ilhji found less praise for me when I sparred with him. But though I never could defeat him in combat, I at least came eventually to the point where I could hold my own against him, and could reliably best at least some other opponents. Therefore An-ilhji recommended me to Chirtpek, who agreed to allow me on the next raid.
Now, the land of the Pa'irket lay among the foothills of the southernmost Pinnacles of Night, so called because, in the Jaruk Heights, it was behind those mountains that the Burning Eye closed for its rest. But as a wall to the domain of the People it stands incomplete, for there is a gap between its southern end and the Gray Highlands, through which the rivers of the south flow. The most ancient legends say that once these rivers were the domain of the People, and that along their lush banks there were prosperous villages and farms, even as there are in Poradrin. But the Soakers came up from the Wet Lands, south beyond the Highlands, and took the river valleys to dwell in, though they could not survive too far into the desert. This is how we named them as Soakers; for they must bathe in and drink water frequently, lest their scales dry up and they crumble away into dust.
The People do not have the strength to dislodge them from the rivers, for they huddle together in great numbers, and this together with the size of their bodies means an alliance of many clans is necessary to do battle against even one of their warrens. But they had also taken many oases for themselves, and these supported few of their kind and were difficult to defend. It was one such oasis that was the object of my first raid, and under the leadership of Arindarrak we went there, going so far as to begin our journey under the Burning Eye so that we might arrive shortly after nightfall. When we arrived, we spied out the Soakers from afar; there were scarcely twenty-four of them, and little more than half were adults, while we numbered about thirty. We moved in from two directions: some from the land, while others held their breaths and swam beneath the water. Though they had set a guard around their tents, it was not enough to protect them that night.
This was my first sight of the Soakers, for all that it was gained amid the confusion of battle. They are like the People in form, but much larger; even the largest of our females would barely compare with a Soaker male. Some, like us, are brown or red or yellow, but others are outlandish colors - green or blue or purple. And their faces are ugly and distorted, with long, pointed muzzles, dull stares, and straight antennae of a melancholy set. They are difficult foes even when surprised, not only by virtue of their size and weight, but also because of how they fight together. I have since found, during my time with them, that they willingly put aside displays of individual prowess to strike as many, and will sometimes submit themselves to the authority of another of their kind - not out of respect and honor, as the People might, but out of confusion in their own hearts and a desire to be led. Demeaning though this is, it makes them all the more dangerous in groups, especially if they are led by a skilled chieftain.
But these were not the conditions I faced, and we came upon them surprised and leaderless. The raid was my first taste of battle, and, I admit, I was not of one mind about it. I had opportunity to prove myself against foes larger and more cunning than animals, and to obtain the blood-price of vengeance against the wrongs done to my ancestors and to the People, and this was satisfying; but beasts though they are, I found it difficult to think of them so. One male, who had gone unarmed, crouched between myself and those I assumed to be his young, as if to protect them. What good father among the People would do differently? But none could be allowed to return to their kindred alive; though he caught me and tore at me, my dagger let the blood from his throat, and he died. The other adults suffered the same fate.
There was some debate, afterward, about the young. There was duty in ending them as well, but certainly no honor, and some of us - myself among them - argued that they should be allowed to live, either to be set free and left to Daxelh's mercy, or to be taken back to the villages and brought up in our service. Those against these plans argued that death would be more merciful in any case, for they would not be fed if set free and would not survive the journey home if taken, for we could not carry the water to soak them as they would need. Dead they would be in either case, and we could but choose the length of their suffering. After some discussion, this point was agreed. Since we had taken few casualties and the young were small, we had plenty of the potion called peace-of-Daxelh to administer to them, so that they would feel no pain. They were permitted to sleep, and then their lives were taken, and they were buried.
As we returned home, I was troubled by this. My brother advised me that we were rarely compelled to kill the young of the Soakers, for they were often too prudent to bring them unless they had built their walls and dwellings. In exposing them, the fault was theirs. And, he said, it should be remembered that such raids as these were not like hunting and herding, where the younger prey should be left to multiply in due course; the Soakers were enemies, not prey. Since they were many and the People were few, he said, the goal must be to lessen the Soakers as far as one could. Put like that, it made sense; but I did not feel right in my soul, and spared a prayer that Daxelh would find a place with Her for such innocent creatures.
Such was my first raid, but I was invited to participate in others, and to my relief we encountered no more children among our foes. I received other scars, but I killed without being killed