Ngangi, our clan High Leader, sent one of his farmers late at night with the meat he’d promised. I was glad he had the decency to respect my wishes. If he had come personally, demanded sex as repayment, his coverling would have eventually learned of it and my life would be in jeopardy.
I slept fitfully that night, a sleep filled with worry and anticipation. Two days seemed too long of a wait for my visit to Tarmon Farrin. My mind wouldn’t stop going over my conversation with Ngangi, my confession to my friends, their sorrow and our discussion over my impending trip. Early morning, before the sun slipped from the horizon, I finally fell into a deep sleep. I slept longer than I intended and woke to see wispy trails of light, mixed with dust, seeping through the spaces in the boards of my ceiling. My eyes still felt heavy and my body rebelled at the thought of rising.
The smell of cooking lamb shank assailed me and I looked over at my coal hearth, which was nothing more than a hammered iron box on the floor with a makeshift exhaust through my ceiling. Not all the smoke managed to escape so my home was filled with smog. I’d placed the gift from Ngangi on the spit over my coals, located centrally in my small home. Another few hours and it would be done. I couldn’t wait so I stood and walked over. A slice of cooked lamb from the outer charred section for breakfast was a complete treat. My usual rabbit or snake jerky seemed far inferior in comparison.
As I ate, with lusty appetite, I wondered when Casimer’s cronies would arrive on our farrin. His Apolake Warriors were scheduled to arrive in their ship today sometime bringing ammunition for the coming war. In my mind, it seems as though Casimer thrives on division, hate and war. He appears too eager to encourage the fighting between the clans of the many land masses. For some time now I’ve wondered why he does this. Wouldn’t we be stronger if we united? Perhaps that is what he dreads. If he can keep us killing each other, we will never join arms in a greater cause.
But what cause is there? For our Akoni Farrin to survive and thrive the best we can have been the only goal and vision for as long as I’ve been breathing our dust-infested air. As the thoughts came, I felt some shame. My mother would not approve if she still lived and knew my musings. She was an exceptional woman who always saw the positive and good in everything. She tried to shield me the best she could but there is a time in every child’s life where reality rises to slap them in the face.
I used to think our world was good, that the chance to live was a privilege and an honor. That’s how my mother raised me. She’d seen much of sorrow and loss and yet she somehow maintained her rosy outlook. Even after she witnessed them mistreat my father, perform a vicious, unfair trial and a brutal, unnecessary death, she still clung to her life dogma. But it was too late for me. I was forced to watch with the clan as the Apolake Warriors killed my father and something inside me died that day. I’d just turned eight and that was the age of adulthood in our clan. I could no longer hide in our home and wait until my parents returned from the clan assembly. I never did understand what my father’s crime had been.
Since that time I’ve channeled all my rage into becoming the best warrior I can. War is one outlet I use to release the anger buried in my heart. The clan leadership tell us that fury is good, the fuel that will bring sweet victory over our enemies.
My mother never agreed. She said that to be filled with anger is the same as eating the poison from a rattler. Both will destroy in the end. But she’s gone now so what does it matter? All her higher ideals never saved her in the end. She was murdered because I stood up for myself, for what was good, and challenged our High Leader, Ngangi.
I don’t know what to think anymore. There are so many things I don’t understand about my life, about our clan and all the fighting. I think it’s better to war and direct my anger in revenge than to have it build without release. Sometimes I feel like I might explode. After a battle the fury subsides, but never fully.
Suddenly a horn blast sounded. The guard watch up on the highest peak of our Akoni Farrin was sending the alarm. Casimer’s ship was spotted and his warrior’s arrival would be imminent. The whole clan, all those eight and older, were required to make an appearance at the dock.
I laced up my leather boots, slipped into my leather jacket, placed my wool cap over my long hair and grabbed my goggles from my wood table. Heading outside, I placed the goggles over my eyes to protect them from the sand-filled air pummeling me. There were others walking quickly toward the sandy beach and the dock beyond. The younger men’s faces revealed anticipation, the older ones appeared weary, and terror emanated from the mothers I saw. I joined the crowd. My friends spotted me, coming up from behind and flanking me on either side.
Viveka said, “What will they want as homage this time?”
“Who knows,” I answered.
“Some mother will weep tonight,” Tilly announced.
Viveka said, “Well, they don’t give us weapons without a sacrifice.”
Tilly said, “Yeah, nothing’s free. Someone’s always left reeling.”
I didn’t bother saying anything more. We felt relatively safe in this gathering so it was easy to discuss it. For the mothers, it was never safe.
Tilly said, “I wonder if Broehain will be coming.”
Viveka gave her a hard stare. “You need to stop with your fascination with this Apolake Warrior. We are one of the farthest farrins from Dwarkaa. Why would Broehain have any interest in you? And what do you want with an Apolake Warrior? They are vicious and cruel!”
“They wouldn’t be vicious if one of them chose to cover me.”
I stared at Tilly. “I thought you didn’t want to be a coverling?”
She shrugged. “I’ve always been curious what Dwarkaa Farrin is like. They must be much more advanced to supply us with weapons for our wars.”
“You’d actually consider leaving us and going with Broehain?” asked Viveka.
“You’d abandon us?” I asked. “Make sure you keep this strange fascination from Ngangi.”
“He’d have your head in a second,” Viveka added.
Tilly whispered, “I’d only go if Broehain demanded it. They can do that you know? They’ve done it before. My mother’s sister was taken this way. Our clan could do nothing to stop it. The whims of Casimer’s men overrule the leadership of a clan.”
“What would Broehain want with a scrawny, foul-smelling woman from a weak clan like ours?” Viveka asked.
Tilly glared at Viveka in anger.
“We are not weak.” I said in derision.
Tilly said, “He’s been throwing me looks for a good year, whenever they come to visit.”
Viveka shook her head and I remained quiet. Tilly was taking too many risks, in both her tongue and her body. I hoped she wouldn’t live to regret it. She never could keep her thoughts to herself, her lips always betraying her.
By the time we arrived at the dock there was already a crowd of our clan members waiting there and the ship was just pulling in. Some Apolake Warriors rappelled down to the dock on ropes and secured the ship. The gang plank lowered and the Apolake Ship Captain disembarked followed by his guards. They all looked gaudy and out of place with their black suits trimmed with red accents and buttons. Their black hats with the red Casimer insignia brought our respect but also our loathing.
He was the same Apolake Captain who always came with the usual ship. His name was Umiko and our entire clan feared him. He carried the power of Casimer, and we were required to obey his every command. If we resisted there was always greater penalty and sorrow to deal with after they left.
As far as we knew, Casimer owned a single ship but lately I’d wondered about that. Another thing I’d noticed is how consistently anxious the Apolake Warriors appear whenever they visit our farrin and disembark their vessel. I’d often questioned it, not openly of course. Why were they afraid? We were the ones who suffered when they came so why did they look so jittery?
Umiko took his usual spot at the end of the dock, where the wood ended and the sandy beach began. The halo of calm descended like a bubble around the vessel and whoever was lucky enough to be caught in the stillness. The angry wind lost its power in the force field that surrounded the ship allowing the Apolake Warriors a reprieve from the dirt-filled air. I was close enough to be allowed the privilege of the silent atmosphere, as were my friends. Although the wind stopped, the oppressive heaviness that replaced it was far worse. It was always this way; Casimer’s cronies and the invisible Tonrar brought the darkness with them. The ebony malevolence wasn’t visual but one that touched the soul and set our bones to quaking.
The oppressive atmosphere was the sign that the Tonrar were in our midst. Keeping the clan in line and making sure we obeyed every command was part of their job. Thinking clearly was suddenly difficult and it was impossible to resist the strong pull of darkness that came with Casimer’s crew. I looked around to see if the evil wraiths would materialize, which they seldom did. All I saw was a thin gauzy veneer shaped in a bubble that made up the protection around the ship and its crew.
Breathing was laborious underneath the bubble and my chest ached. Imagining that one could live another day seemed fruitless under this diabolical influence as it suffocated all hope from the air. Knowing that this cloud of despair and mind bending depression would leave as soon as the Tonrar departed gave us the strength to endure.
Umiko said, “I need four strong men to unload the cargo.”
Ngangi had already picked the four he knew would be required and they stepped up and hurried to the ship. Soon the wares were sitting on the sand and the four men stepped back with the others.
Umiko said, “Casimer has been very generous. The weapons for the upcoming scuffle is a gift that is unwarranted and undeserved. How will you repay him?”
Ngangi spoke, “We are willing to give up an infant.”
Umiko shook his head. “Casimer demands more.”
I could hear the gasps and grumblings scurry through my clan. Sometimes Casimer grew greedy for more, something we always dreaded.
“What does he require?” asked Ngangi.
“We will take the infant but we also require the sacrifice of a warrior. They must be older than thirteen.”
The mothers, standing back further on the beach, wailed loudly in protest.
A black-clad woman appeared on the gang plank, an Apolake nursing mother. We didn’t see them often. I wondered again what they did with the infants they took for their own. What became of these babies? Were they used to appease Casimer in homage on the farrin of Dwarkaa? Did he allow them to live, become part of his entourage of warriors?
Our Akoni Farrin leadership gathered in a circle discussing whose children they would appoint for Casimer’s demands. It didn’t take long. Ngangi spoke out the names and we could hear the parents scream and cry out their anger and sorrow. Some leaders were sent to fetch the infant and child. The girl Ngangi had chosen was weak and had not performed well in Warrior Training. Since we had to choose someone to die, she was the most likely choice.
The baby, no more than a month old, was given to the Apolake woman in black, its mother screaming inconsolably in the background. The other, a fourteen-year-old girl, was being dragged by two of the leaders and manhandled to the Sentry Rock, the place where her blood would be poured out in homage to Casimer’s sick requirements. Her parents cried and moaned in pain as they followed the rest of the clan to the homage site. Everyone was required to attend. The Apolake Warriors and the misty Tonrar made sure of that. The protective bubble dismantled around us and I could see the Tonrar faintly now as they moved about on the outskirts of the crowd.
The ceremony was as horrific and draining as usual. After they laid her on the sacrifice stone, one of our warriors took a sword and drove it through her heart, the Tonrar wailing in blood-lust frenzy all around us, piercing the air with a death chant. When the girl was dead, the wicked screams slowly ebbed and the air grew unusually calm, except for the sobbing of a few. I left right after the child was killed. The parents would carve the girl’s name in the remembrance rock wall so that their child would not be forgotten. Everyone was silent as they headed back to their homes. To focus on the upcoming battle was always beneficial and helped to pivot our rage.
Despite what I’d just witnessed, my mind was on Tarmon Farrin. I’d been summoned and tomorrow I would depart. I could hardly stand the wait. I heard Ngangi speak but I didn’t turn to look at him. I sensed him walking directly behind me.
“If the weather clears and our watch guards deem it necessary, we move out to engage in war tomorrow. Then you will not travel to Tarmon. You will fight with us.”
I simply nodded. I was in no mood to confront him. If I was too travel to Tarmon the next day then the form I saw in the mist in my dream would have to make a way for me.
“Do you hear me?” Ngangi asked.
“I heard.”
“You will not go unless I permit it.”
“You’ve already permitted it,” I said, leaving the rocky mountain trail behind and my feet settling on the level ground of our valley.
“I can withdraw my consent at any time.”
“As you say.”
“What is this?” Boyanna said suddenly. “Why are you speaking to this underling?”
I didn’t look at her, kept my eyes forward, and didn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction, plus her words were directed toward Ngangi.
Ngangi said, “Xiomara must know that I am in charge. She does nothing without my authorization.”
“What is it she’s asked permission for?”
“I will tell you when I’m ready.”
“You will tell me now!” demanded Boyanna.
Ngangi moved swiftly and without warning. I looked to the side and saw him remove his knife and turn in one seamless motion toward Boyanna and place the knife edge to her throat. She stopped, fear in her eyes, and moved her hand to her belt. Ngangi grabbed her arm and twisted it, bending it back in an unnatural position, causing something to pop. Boyanna screamed in pain and went to her knees.
Ngangi’s face looked fierce. “You are my coverling! You are nothing to me. I chose to cover you and I can choose to uncover you! Watch yourself or I will kill you!” He threw her to the side and she crumpled into a heap.
One single soft sob escaped her lips. She pulled her courage together and looked up at Ngangi. “If you ever try that again, I will kill you in your sleep.”
“Perhaps you won’t ever get that chance! Remember that!” Ngangi yelled. He was no pushover and despised anyone that questioned his authority. His coverling had crossed the line and I wasn’t sure what would happen to her now.
He looked in my direction and I diverted my eyes and hurried off to my house. To be caught in the middle of their fight was not to my benefit.
That night Tilly and Viveka came to join me. We made a fire outside, keeping our goggles on to spare our eyes from the relentless wind and ate more than we’d eaten in months. By the look in their eyes and their sparse words, I knew they were grieving my going and my possible demise. I tried to encourage them, tell them what an adventure it would be.
Tilly finally said, “I wish we were permitted to go with you into the mist. That way we could die right along with you.”
“I’m not going to die.”
Viveka said, “You are completely delusional. No one who goes into the mists of Tarmon survives.”
“And how many people do you know that have tried it?”
“None,” she finally said.
“So how do we know that it’s not possible?
Tilly shook her head. “I still wish you weren’t going.”
“You were willing to leave with Broehain if he would have demanded it. You were ready to abandon us.”
“That was different. That would have been an adventure on the high seas. To see Dwarkaa Farrin would be a thrill. To see Casimer in person would be such a privilege. He’s the Grand Ruler of our world, the King, the most powerful man there is. And Broehain is handsome to boot.”
“He paid no attention to you today,” Viveka said.
“He looked at me.”
“Only for a second. I could say he looked at me too.”
Tilly glowered at Viveka.
I said, “Well, I’m still going to Tarmon.”
Viveka said, “I overhead what Ngangi threatened.”
“So?” I said.
“So, maybe he won’t let you go after all.”
“Do you really think Ngangi has more power and sway than the dreams do?”
“I don’t know,” Viveka said.
My friends grew silent around the ebbing fire. To burn pieces of wood was rare. Wood was scarce and only on special occasions was it permitted. Ngangi was obviously expecting me not to return and granted this special grace toward me.
Tilly broke the silence. “Did you notice something different today about the Apolake Warriors visit?”
“Umiko seemed in a rush to get things done and get out as fast as possible,” said Viveka. “They seem to be getting increasingly anxious every time they visit.”
“Yes, I have been taking note,” Tilly said.
I’d noticed it too. I was surprised that my friends were aware of it. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one conscious of things shifting. I said, “Maybe my visit to Tarmon Farrin will help explain some things.”
“It’ll explain nothing,” Viveka shouted. “It’ll only increase our fear. We have Casimer hounding us on one side and Tarmon Farrin terrorizing us on the other.”
Tilly said, “You should not be voicing this about Casimer.”
There was always a concern of being overheard speaking disparaging about our ruler. Only among friends did we at times reveal our true feelings.
I said, “Tarmon Farrin has never attacked us.”
Tilly said, “What if they want information? What if they torture you and find out our clan’s weaknesses so that they can attack more proficiently?”
“I don’t think that’s what they’re after. They would have attacked us by now if that was their purpose.” I’d never considered Tilly’s perspective and it made me nervous.
Viveka said, “I wonder if Casimer is afraid of Tarmon Farrin. Maybe that’s what makes the Apolake Warriors so vexed when they come to visit us.”
I stared at her, amazed at Viveka’s insight; I’d never considered it before. “It could be.”
Tilly made a disgruntled sound between clenched teeth. “Don’t be silly. Casimer isn’t afraid of anyone or anything. He’s the supreme ruler and demands loyalty and obedience. If anyone is afraid it would be Tarmon Farrin.”
I nodded but I wasn’t sure anymore. Casimer rules us with an iron rod, instilling fear so that no one dares to oppose him. But soon I would know more. The lure of Tarmon was growing stronger in my soul and I couldn’t wait till the next day.
We talked and reminisced until late, while the fire diminished into glowing embers and slowly went out. My friends left and I fell into my straw bed exhausted, but with my heart full of anticipation for what awaited me a few farrins over.
