Nomads Reunion
A full year and a season. That was just precisely how long several dozen Warriors from a tribe of over ten thousand had been gone. More than a year, but not quite a year and a half. Their return was marked by the melting of snows and the budding blooms of spring. Most of the men sported full shaggy beards and a crispness to their clothes that might've enabled a pair of trousers to stand and walk away on their own. But none of them seemed weary or battle worn. If anything, they were more full of piss and vinegar than ever before.. as if somehow quite exhilarated by the raids.. moreso than the overabundance of spoils carted in at least a hundred wagons. Maybe more.Within a good twenty miles yet from the vast Caravans of the tribes, their dust could be seen as a thick, opaque cloud on the horizon moving slowly southward. And among them there was general drunkenness and merriment.. bawdy songs sung horribly off key amidst a few girlish screams and squeals. Bola races were perhaps one of the best ways to break in stubborn new slave girls.
[Sings To the Sky]:
"Ubara, then you admit freely you have seen no sign of the Ubar, nor have had any word from in for a full cycle of seasons?" The question had bite into it, or maybe it was T'zuri's own guilt coloring the tone.. but it felt like the men sitting upon the Great Pavilion blamed her for Fonce's disappearance. The drums had no more than announced his claiming of her before the warrior simply vanished from the camp, never to be seen again. "That is correct, Jurgaghan. I have no knowledge of his whereabouts." She holds the man's narrowed gaze as long as she can before the embarrassment creeps up as a soft pinkening of her cheeks and she is forced to look away. Jurgaghan grunts impatiently, stroking a hand through the greasy shock of his hair before he addresses her again. "So you have no idea if he lives.. or not?" Out of respect, these interviews had been held off, but now as the anniversary of the Ubar's dissapearance has come full circle, a hard decision must be made.
The men sitting cross-legged in knee-deep furs were of the First Wagon or lines that held impressive influence over the affairs of the Tribe. The Ubar's young bride, barely eighteen summers kneels off to the side of the tattered gray hide which served as a throne to the leader of one of the most powerful nations ever to exist. She would not dare sit where a king had. Her small hands press to the top of her thighs with the rest of her legs folded beneath her. She flinches again, looking back to "Six" and shakes her head. "No."
[Kazhuye]:
One girl clearly outran the others, zigzagging across the flat ground between her felled opponents when they'd been tripped and brought down hard by the whirling stone and leather thong bolas. "HA!" One of the Warriors who'd sported a brazenly proud grin shot right out from the clusterfuck mounted on a proud racing beast with notched ears and chased the one girl down who'd managed to slip right past the whirling bolas undaunted. Yet she too, would land with a hard splat, belly down in the dirt while the Warrior hogtied her limbs and threw her over the saddle sideways. Not only had his slave won the race..
but the rest of them who'd lost, were forfeited to him in the wager. None of the other fellows looked to happy about their losses. Yet it was nothing that a half a barrel of looted paga wouldn't cure when it was tapped and shared. For the time being, the girl who'd beat out all the others won the luxury of riding the next twenty miles or so, belly over a kaiila's saddle.. while the rest of them rejoined their coffle chains and walked alongside their new owner's kaiila and loot-stuffed wagons.
[Sings To the Sky]:
Two men spoke aside to eachother and T'zuri colored more. There was no question that a woman could never take the place of a Ubar, but technically.. she is the mate of one, especially after the public announcement of her marriage. Yet everyone is curious if the union was consummated before or after her groom had flown the coop, especially the one man who stands with both shoulders thrown back and a wolfish smile curling cold upon his lips. Kurt of the Kassar cannot hear the proceedings from where he stands. He is too far away to catch voices but it is T'zuri herself and all her squirming that clues him in on how the interrogation has progressed. And since he has a legitimate stake in this, he is allowed to remain close to know the outcome all the sooner. "And was your claiming con.. su.." A thrall has come to bend over at Jurgaghan's ear, whispering excitedly. He makes a motion with his arm towards the Northern horizon.
Heads turn to crane for a look in that direction, including T'zuri. A thick billow of dust has gathered there, building on itself until the dark, clouds dip high into the mesmerizing blue of the Plain's Sky. The Singer lifts slowly to her booted feet, standing on tip toe to try and see between two wagons.
[Kazhuye]:
Nearer and nearer to the massive caravan of thousands of wagons all brightly colored like a gigantic jewel in the middle of the Plains come the few dozen Tuchuk raiders. Leading them is one fierce-ass looking Warrior, squinting his eyes against the bright noonday sun. His kaiila senses something in the air a good ways off.. and kicks upward on his hind legs with a few slobbering snorts. And as his front claws come crashing down again into the soft green, newly sprouted sod, the chain of naked girls is yanked forward rather abruptly, sending them tumbling head over heal upon one another. "WOAHH THERE.. woahh!" The Warrior shouts, giving a terse yank to the leather reign in order to get the large, silk haired beast under control.
Several of the girls screamed yet again, rolling this and that to escape being trampled under the kaiila's feet as he reared upward and danced about several times before crashing down again and again.
[Sings To the Sky]:
Was it a raid upon their camp? At first the young woman's heart leaps with alarm wondering if the bosk were in danger of being taken by a rival tribe. The bosk are essential for the Tribe's survival, absolutely essential. But as she look around, she sees no warrior grabbing for his lance or bola. Instead, there is a buzz of excitement and curiosity. "Ubara!" Old Chinua wheezing is marked with impatience. It brings T'zuri right back to the happenings on the Ubar's dias. "Are ya a virgin or aren't ya? Yer holding back the decision of these proceedings by not admitting to bein' one or the other!" Jurgaghan lifts a hand. "You are assuming she was untouched prior to being claimed. Better to ask if she lay with the Ubar, consummating their union." With a loud snort, Gan makes himself known. "What does it matter? Do you think some young girl's word should be the end of this? Send her to the hags and have her checked!"
Frozen to the spot, T'zuri looked to each man as he spoke, her dark brown eyes darting back and forth. She couldn't get any more red in the face and had the wooden dias opened up to swallow her whole, she would have swooned in gratitude. "That's it. Have her checked!!" All these many months, the Singer hadn't wanted to admit her shame. She had not seen Fonce on her claiming day. There were only a thousand or so who would vindictively cheer, knowing this. As the heated discussion gears up without her, it is her soft voice that cuts through the deeper timbres of the men. "We did .. not.. connsumate it. He was gone, I think.. before the drums sounded." And with that, she walks off the dias, her little boots carrying her swiftly away.
[Kazhuye]:
The kaiila was the fastest on the entire Plains, and quite well-known for his raucous, untamed antics. He'd not only been owned by the Warrior currently mounted upon his saddle.. but also that same Warrior's father. And the damn beast had not changed one iota, nor slowed his pace in all these years! "WOAHHHH NECESSITY! WOAAHHH!" In fact, the harder the Warrior drew back upon the leather strap, the more forcefully the beast pulled against it.. as if he scarcely noticed the bit wedged up between his jowls so tightly, it was liable to snap them right on the hinge.
When he reared up all eleven or so feet again, he crashed right down within a fraction of an inch of crushing one of the slave girl's skull.. managing only to claw the side of her head and rip out most of her hair on that side.. painfully by the roots. The girl screamed out as she pressed a hand to her bleeding head. "Hey, Cornwall!" One of the other men shouted, laughing while he pointed at the girl on the ground. "I reckon he'll be given her back to ya, now!" Several of the men laughed as their own mangy beasts reared up and danced about in the frenzy of fresh blood drawn. Yet within the next two seconds..
Necessity shot off like a canon with the Warrior merely hanging on to the reign for dear life. The pair of them rode like the wind.. and had, since before the Warrior in the saddle could even walk. Along beside them was a coffle chain of about eight girls in all.. being dragged through the mud and grass upon their bared bellies. All screaming and crying at the top of their lungs. "Now there's somethin' ya just don't see everyday!" The men slapped their knees in laughter again.. racing to see which of them would scoop up the poor hogtied wench who'd been thrown over the saddle on her belly.. once she fell off. Yet as they raced for the caravan of thousands..that bola race winner seemed blessed with luck that day.. for she never did fall and hit the ground a second time.
[Sings To the Sky]:
Jurgaghan grinds his teeth, watching her go. For these many months the Ubara has kept to herself, not venturing father than the tiny inner circle of wagons where some of the most esteemed elderly women of the First Wagon live. A sanctuary, if you will. She has no idea of the political strife happening in light of the vacuum of power Fonce left. The deficit of a Ubar gone would right itself. His place filled and soon. The Tribe is too resiliant for it not to.. it is only a question where the young woman will end up. "Does the Ubara's sudden departure mean what I think it does?" A cold, self-congratulating voice came behind the Jurgaghan and all the others, causing them to turn slightly in his direction. Jurgaghan grunts, only half nodding as he leaps down off the dias. "We'll see." was all the outsider got directly but it was music to Kurt's ears when he overhears. "Declare the Ubara's marriage.. null and void. I want this over with." T'zuri fled. She didn't cry as she ran.
How long she would be able to hold up the fort on her emotions is hard to say as her eyes are sparkling with hot, wet tears. She has come to terms with the painful fact that Fonce will never return. Not ever. His disappearance on the night of their claiming was a cruel strike.. and as time marched on, any excuse she could give the man had slowly been peeled away. He left her, plain and simple.. in a lurch. "How will ou feed Letti and Mama, T'zuri.. you've managed to stay a part of the First Wagon's all this time but how will you care for them now.. Stupid, Silly girl.. you should have.. done something.. " She could have broken her own hymen.. perhaps. Lied that Fonce had come to her in the night.. several times. She could have done many things.. but T'zuri isn't that sort. Flying up the rows, she keeps her head ducked before emerging on the fringe of the wagon's gathering. She wants to be alone.
[Kazhuye]:
As for the rest of the Raiders, they kept their pace at a brisk mosey, left with the brunt of all the wagons and loot.. while Kazhuye and a small handful of others raced on ahead. They were so damn fierce looking when they rode that way.. bearing down upon some hapless enemy until he was surrounded on all sides. Lances drawn as they closed in for the kill. And of course that too, was great sport. Irregardless whether the prey turned and fought valiently.. or fled like a coward. But this time.. their lances were not thrust outward for battle.. but raised instead for victory. They were home.. at long last! Home! On the outskirts of the wagons, several rushed out to greet the prodigal with cheers and dancing.
Several in the crowds, even gathered there around the First Wagons turn and hurry to the outer most part on the north end. Too thick to part, even when some short little gal butts her head right into their tightly knit, unified force.. because she's not lookin' where she's goin'! "Oh, pardon me for standing in the way of where you are butting your head." Typical of Tuchuk humor. "C'mon!" Says one of the other women, linking arms with her before another fellow takes a head-butt to the gut. The first was quite winded.. but he's laughing none the less. "The Raiders have returned!" Oddly enough, they didn't even realize the girl was the Ubara. Few had seen her face in so long, they might've forgotten what she looked like!
[Sings To the Sky]:
Her hair is braided. The thick tail bounces at her low back, small lavendar and cherry beads dangling from leather straps are bright against the dark sheen of the woven tresses. A tiny ring of gold glints at her nose, pretty in its simple lines against her darker almond skin. Deep in her thoughts and desperate to make it to the stream where she might cry in peace, she walks right into a crowd and runs into a wall of human flesh. "Ohh!!" she cries out, laughing at little between sniffles when she's grabbed by the arm and led further into the labyrinth of cavorting people. For the first time, it soaks in past her own grievances. Something is really happening here. "What is it?? A merchant caravan?" She laughed, wiping at her eyes when she thought no one noticed. They are still quite wet, even if she doesn't feel like crying so much anymore. "We get them all the time. Has the whole bloomin' tribe gone crazy??" Another soft giggle and a shake of her head.
Behind her, a bit back, two greyish streaks follow in T'zuri's wake although they keep to the shadows beneath the wagons or sticking to the tall grass as she is tugged along. Never did they allow her to get too far ahead of them.
[Kazhuye]:
Met head on by a swollen crowd of a few hundred men, women, and children.. and even some of the more pushy slaves, Necessity's claws gouged out deep ravines in the moist ground as he came to a skidding halt.. nearly throwing his rider over head. Now the chain of girls who'd been dragged a good five miles or more, looked a tad windblown and mussed, to say the least.
Ok.. they looked like shit. Truly. They were covered in mud, bleeding, broken.. and looked pretty damn mangy. One of the tribal fellows who'd been at the front of the line to greet the returning Warriors from their year-long journey.. burst into laughter after getting a good look at the girls in the muddied, minstrel faces. "Hot damn! They sure got ass-ugly wimmin up North!"
[Sings To the Sky]:
A tidal spray of dirt and grit came flying up from beneath the kaiila's claws and the little singer throws a hand up to protect her eyes. There are several bodies between herself and the rider and despite how he is mounted atop the cantakerous beast, she doesn't recognize him since he's turned away. Giggling still when she hears a nearby fellow comment on the subpar beauty of the warrior's haul, she calls out with a grin. "Serves you right to get a passle of ugly women, Tuchuk! Don't you know the prettiest ones are right here, on the Plains?" It feels good to razz a man even if the taunt might hit a little to close to home for her. Laughing, she tugs the other woman who'd linked their arms right in front of her, playfully hiding behind in case the warrior has something to say in return! She's small enough to disappear!
[Kazhuye]:
"He grabbed up all the ugliest ones he could find!" Now of course the other Warriors.. the very ones who'd lost their slaves to him in the bola races just a few hours ago..joined in the din of laughter and roasting, offering up no admission of their own guilt! "Hey, Kazhuye! Even that ugly kaiila of yours has a purtier kisser!" Several of the woman had by now, managed to rise to their feet and toss their heads back at the mockery with whatever was left of their pride and dignity.. most of which lay scattered about in the mud and bosk dung over the last several miles! Strange at it was, the one who'd been bound and tossed over the saddle on her belly, was in the worst shape of all! "Ahh shut up!" Kazhuye shouted back over all the laughter as he jumped from his mount to the ground below. "They were purty enough when you all lost 'em in wagers and you was cryin' over it like a buncha girls!"
It only took a moment for the jeers in the crowd to shift directions.. moreso when one of the mud covered girls tried to run back to her original owner.. only to be caught red-handed by Mrs. Cornwall! And there she was, boxing the man's ears as if he'd never been gone a single day! "I knew it! You stinkin' sloppy drunk, bosk-ass!"
[Sings To the Sky]:
Coming out from behind the woman, T'zuri snickers, a hand over her lips while she watches Tuchukks at their finest. It wasn't anything unusual for one of their own to be heckled to the point of pain, everyone chuckling, even the 'victim'. Looking up at him, the singer feels a strange pinch in her stomach as if she's swallowed a warm and its wrigglin' and shimmin' away deep inside.. and then someone calls him by name. Kazhuye??? Her lips part as she gapes, standing there stock still while the rest of the world keeps dancing along at a fevered pitch. Why there was Mrs. Cornwall cutting through the crowd, laying into the man before he even got down all the way from his saddle. "Kazhuye?" She whispers. No way he could have heard her not getting his bell rung by his neighbor lady-friend and with all the raucous uproar. She'd dreamed him dead. He'd been killed not in battle but taken violently by the Sky, leaving her to mourn him for more than a year now. Dead.. but that had to be him.
Beneath the beard, gruff, and grime. She takes a side step, refusing to allow the milling bodies to impede her peeking but needing to see more to believe her eyes.
[Kazhuye]:
Lucretia Cornall. The meanest old nag there ever was! She reached up and yanked her man by the ear as she barreled her way through the laughing crowd and led him home. "Aww.. come on, Lucretia," Cornall whined. "I thought of you the whole entire time. I swear it!" Several men clapped him on the back as they passed them by, chuckling at the hen-pecked Warrior. "Oh! So I remind you of a whore so ugly she looks like a bosk's ass? Is that it?" Cornwall had a size fourteen foot, which fit real nicely in his mouth, ninety-nine percent of the time. "Go easy on him, Lucretia," they said with mock sympathy. But just like old times, he was likely to be camping out before the dung fire twenty paces from his own wagon, until he drank himself right under it. The woman was heartless!
And for a few seconds, the red sea of tightly packed bodies had parted.. just long enough for him to turn and lock gazes on a pair of brown eyes on the other side.. before the sea closed up once again. Five thousand women or more, accounted for in the vast Tuchuk population.. it could not have been her. No way. Kazhuye reached up and rubbed a bit of sand and debris from his face.. and particularly his eyes, before he turned to gather up the scraggly remains of his wager wins. Five out of eight of them had pulled their wits together enough to shake their hips and lift their muddied chins real high. Like they were Tatrixes or something. The other three.. and the fourth who was still bound.. seemed in a complete daze. Kazhuye bent and shoved his shoulder into the last one's belly before hefting her upward upon it. It was enough to finally knock her out cold. "Run, slaves!" He held the chain, but expected them to run ahead of him. "Come on, Necessity."
Aways back the wagons full of loot were still rolling toward the vast Tuchuk camp. The spoils were to be divied that night around a great bon fire.. a flagrant waste of precious bosk dung, to be sure. But it was cause for celebration! The Raiders had finally come home.
[Sings To the Sky]:
Had he seen her? T'zuri could have sworn their eyes met but as Kazhuye is gone with her next surprised blink, she begins to doubt. The urge for a closer look is undeniable. Using Necessity's great, shaggy head as a guide, she flanks the man and his beast, only stepping out from the throng of people where the kaiila will conceal her approach. She can hear the man she thought dead talking to the owned women and to his mount, his voice striking chords of rememberance that confuse her as much as the fact does.. that he isn't dead. She reaches out to touch Necessity's side, knowing it was suicide to startle one of the predatory beasts but needing a grounding point so badly.. the solidity of the animal beneath her hand, the pelt warm from the steady stream of blood moved by its great, pumping heart. She thinks about calling his name, but when she peeks beneath Necessity's long, powerful neck.. Kazhuye is carrying a woman. Shyly, she hangs back again, walking alongside his kaiila but where he cannot see her.
[Kazhuye]:
Necessity followed along when called.. because he felt like it. Not because he was an obediently trained kaiila with his two notched ears. Oh hell no! And one would think he'd not know the difference, having been gone so long. But out of that large crowd pressing in on all sides, the great beast bobbed his massive head up and down as his tail swatted everything from behind in a three-sixty radius. He slobbered. He snorted. He made ugly chuffing sounds. He had not forgotten the little two-legged filly.. who was bunted flat to the ground the moment she drew back out of his beastly tunnel vision.
[Sings To the Sky]:
She should have expected it. Honestly, she should have. But the truth was, the beginnings of a soft smile bloomed on T'zuri's lips, her small hand rubbing at Necessity's side, when the beast's great head came swinging back and she was knocked clean to the ground. "UFF!" She went down hard, rolling as the animal's power and musculature far exceeds her own slight stature and well.. Necessity might just be happy to see her too. T'zuri tastes dirt and grass for she is soon covered in it from soft leather skirt and boots to the top of her dark head. There are even a few grass blades stuck in her nose ring! She sputters and spits, while pulling herself slowly up to a sitting position, curious if she was all in one piece. "Greetings to you too, you flea-bitten kailla, you." She starts giggling.
[Kazhuye]:
Several paces ahead by now, Kazhuye turns to glance back once he realizes the sound of his kaiila's hot breath is no longer just beyond his shoulder. Damn animal, obviously doesn't remember the way home, nor the constant formation of wagons, despite their astronomical munbers. He's just about to whistle a high pitched sound around his curled finger and thumb.. when he sees that very same girl as before.. only this time, she's getting herself up off the ground. "Singer? Is that you?" Of course it's her. She hasn't changed one bit. Yet no sooner does he acknowledge her, the Year Keeper glances around and slowly backs away. For he remembers.. she'd given her consent to join the Ubar in a companioning.. not long before Kazhuye had left the Harigga on a year long raiding expidition to.. well.. way up north where the ugly women lived!
[Sings To the Sky]:
With a little chuff of breath, she blows the tiny flecks of prairie grass from her nose ring, both hands brushing down the front of her vest, blouse, and skirt to help with more of the same. Necessity never does anything half-assed and she is a mess.. which really wasn't how she'd like for Kazhuye's first impression to be. A grass stained, dusty woman with bits of greenish-yellow sticking into her hair. She looks up slowly, knowing damn well before the Year Keeper even speaks that she's been caught red-handed. She stares for the longest time, awed, for her dream of his death couldn't have been more real. "You're alive! I don't beleive it. .I thought.. I thought were gone forever." Small boots took wing and the small woman runs over to wrap Kazhuye into a big hug. Big for her, anyhow. Her arms wrap his waist as she tries to squeeze the dickens out of him, partly for putting her through all that. "How could you let me think you were dead, Kazhuye??.. Kazhuye.. oh great Skies, you've come back to me."
[Kazhuye]:
"Well of course I'm alive.. T'zuri," he'd said about two seconds after being ambushed by the vertically challenged Singer. Which caught him off guard for some odd reason. Must have been due to the fact that the last time he'd seen her.. she had let him know she was mighty in love. With some other fella.. who just only happened to be the Ubar, too. One whom he half expected to be sneakin' up behind him right about now, too.. for public impropriety with his wife. "What'd you go an' think that for, Singer? I've been out plundering all the enemies from here to Venna." Not that he expected a Tuchuk gal to know anything at all about any cities beyond Turia. But he said it all matter-of-fact as he reached around behind and tried to pluck her fingers loose. "You're gonna get me in trouble, little girl."
The slaves naturally.. not counting the one still draped like dead weight over his shoulder.. were much too down-trodden to care whether this other girl made passes at the one who owned them. As far as they were concerned..all the Tuchuk men looked exactly alike. And they all smelled like bosk shit, too!
[Sings To the Sky]:
Now that she knew it was him.. him.. T'zuri was flabbergasted with happiness. He wasn't dead! The lightening strike.. seeing him melded to his beloved Necessity, all that had been part of a bad nightmare and not real at all. She hugs him tighter with her small arms, overjoyed if the radiant smile on her face is any indication. "Well, you went off and left without so much as a 'Goodbye, T'zuri', so I guess that might be the reasoning behind me thinking you dead. But you're not dead.. you just lost your common sense when you left." Her fingers are pulled back but she manages to poke him in the side with one small finger. She really ought to be furious with the man and off nursing her own hurt for he was one of two men who'd abandoned her on the same day. "Whatcha mean, in trouble, Kazhuye? You're not allowed to greet friends anymore?" His gruff demeanor didn't phase the Singer, who knew beneath the gruff exterior was someone who meant what they said and said what they meant.
"Dang it, you're a sight for sore eyes." She untangles from him, stepping back a little so she can clearly see his face.
[Kazhuye]:
"You're a married woman now, T'zuri," he said.. letting the mere sound of it roll of his tongue so slowly that.. for a moment it sounded like a foreign language. It was strange how that happened now and again, leaving you to not recognize your very own words. "And married women don't go around getting too chummy with men." He glanced about once again, suddenly awash in a memory of her falling-down-drunk.. and stark naked, too! "I got me all these gals I gotta figure out what to do with," he gestured up ahead to the scraggly wenches still covered head to toe in black mud. What was he thinking?? One woman was enough to drive a fellow entirely insane. Why, look at poor Cornwall! And just to convince himself, he glanced over at the man's wagon. You could still hear Lucretia hollarin' at him, too.
[Sings To the Sky]:
Kazhuye could write a limerick about how to make a woman's face fall in twenty words or less. Had she been happily companioned, she would have swatted him with a teasing follow up about how he better keep his own nose clean around her, being the Ubar's woman and all. But the fact is, a debate was roaring through the first wagons on whether she was hitched at all.. being that she didn't have relations with the man in question. Her lips part as she realizes that fresh from a lengthy raiding trip, Kazhuye hasn't heard the rampant rumors of the Ubar's disappearance. Nor any about her. "Alright then, Year Keeper. I'm sorry to have slowed you down." She said it softly, walking past him and his loot with as quick strides as her short legs will carry her. Two giani cats suddenly scamper up to zealously follow her skirt tail.
[Kazhuye]:
The gianis were fairly large cats.. the size of small mountain lions.. and for a moment he was drawn aback as he went for his quivas strapped at his hips. They looked like they were attacking the Singer. "T'zuri." He spoke very calmly, never once taking his brown eyes from the ferocious critters. They looked pretty enough to make a small jacket out of.. or.. maybe just a couple a hats, the more he thought on it. "Stop right there.. and don't move" By now, both blades are drawn upward at shoulder height, and are expertly flipped around in a nimble dance over his fingers.
Once the Singer had gotten herself dressed, she left my wagon and started heading off... to her own wagons, I knew. Out of compulsion I walked with her. Hoping perhaps to make her see things reasonably.
