Oontab [Episode 21]

Rekusa

One day, Lembu and Rekusa, the King’s maidservants, happened to be bored.
“…Hmmm, not so oh! But if you were given the chance… let’s say the King starts fancying you today, wouldn’t you marry him tomorrow?” Rekusa tempted.

“Being married to the King is not a bathe in the stream oh! At least not this King… Looks, Power and ambition, I give him that, but you know about his father’s atrocities…” Lembu took charge of the session.

“Haaaa! SSSSSSHHHHHHH! Do you want to get us into trouble? I don’t think those once loyal to him, if any, would take it lightly. The walls have ears…” Looking around, she continued, “You know about… you know about Kanaka, don’t you?” Rekusa lowered her voice at the mention of the name.

“Hmm! I heard about him. But wait, what about him?” Lembu threw an arm over her head to get the flies off her hair.

“He would have been King if King Greda was not born!” Rekusa was now bending to let the words drop only at close range.

“Haaayyy! But how do you mean?” Lembu betrayed her friend the discretion that had made a little progress, and realizing that her voice was too loud, she bent to match Rekus’ bending height.

They both leaned even closer, “I mean he was once the prince, until King Greda was born.”

“I’m confused.” Said the confused looking Lembu.

“He was adopted!” The other ended up saying with a raised voice, slapping her palms together with each word.

“Wai! Wai, wai, wai! Hmmm, and I thought I had heard the worst of rumors when they said King Greda’s father cursed the crown!”

It was getting irresistibly contagious to talk about and it flowed with every sentence.

“They say the curse was broken, but I doubt it, because the way people say he is following in his father’s footsteps, and –“

“Oh-oh, wait, what is that supposed to mean? Let us not take this too far!” Lembu showed Rekusa her ears and raised her eyebrows as a warning.

“No, no, wait… see… I heard that on some days, he disappears for long hours, and then he returns with strange things from another land. Let me show you something…” Unwraps waist cloth and removes a small black fruit from her purse. “I took one of these from the palace yesterday… they called it ‘pear’ in the palace and they claimed it came from a new tree growing in the palace… I have searched this whole village myself and did not find any tree producing this fruit.”

“All this is beginning to scare me. Be careful not to get in too deep.”

“Is it not worth the knowing? Many people are not who we think they are. In fact, when they tell you they are one thing, that is when they are more likely to be another in disguise.”

“I have told you my own!” Lembu was now pulling her right ear, adding, “Hmmm… and I thought I was the gossip Queen…”

“You are! Just don’t go pouring all this into every ear you see.”

“Trust me, I won’t…” And with a smile, “Here comes your friend. You should give him a kiss today.” She winked.

Rekusa blushed and laughed. “Only?” She asked, not expecting an answer.

A thin, lean muscled man came towards the bush with a smile on his face as one of two friends went away. She shivered with excitement as he held her by one of her arms and took her deeper into more bush, gradually away from the palace and closer to the part of the Kingdom people considered as the dwelling place of the gods. Nobody would see them as they spend countless hours declaring their love for each other.

Secrets of Twilight

The man dragged his heavy robes into the forest, stopping just at the edge of the cliff. He untied the miniature bag attached to his belt and opened it. He took the tips of his fingers and pinched the dust in the bag dropping it in a leaf. He tied the bag back and attached it to his belt again, and picking the leaf from the ground, he poured the dust into his palm. He clenched that palm into a fist and blew through the hollow, blasting the dust out into the air and as it suspended for a moment, almost fading into the wind, the man spoke in such a low tone that all that  could be heard was the rolled r’s, repeated t’s and s’s, in a language no normal person understood. Then a faint sheet of light appeared in front of the man. He looked around, then disappeared into the light and fell upwards.

The Lovers could not believe their eyes as the sun set before them.

Greda

King Greda landed on his feet. He was used to this. He was also used to the fact that every time he came to this existence, it was a different experience and he discovered new places. It was like there were more than two paths in the same place. The last time he was here, he had landed in a river, and when he got back to the palace, he had gotten a few stares from his servants that told him it was obvious. A few servants that had known him for a long time were used to his usual mysterious absence, so the suspicions died in no time. This time, he was in some kind of a cave and he was grateful he had worn his wooden footwear, made specially for the King by Wombo the wood carver, since he would be walking on rocks and rough ground. He found light at the end of the cave, which he assumed was the entrance. He dragged his feet along the ground and held on to the walls of the tunnel so as to avoid tripping on a stone or on the rough ground.

He found his way out, but when he got out, he found nothing but black; the light was gone. It was another pit, and he could hear voices like misty whispers all in his ears. The whispers got so loud that he could hear them right behind his ear like the warm air from the mouth of someone standing right behind him, except, these whispers brought a cold air and it made him feel queasy. He stepped back by one foot without turning back, but no one was really there. He turned and walked into the darkness then turned again to look at the open end of the tunnel and he could still see the light, but when he walked back to the entrance of the tunnel, it wasn’t there. He could not see anything, and the smell of the ground was beginning to choke him. He heard breathing, then a few silent hisses, then silence for some time, then the process repeated itself until he could not take it anymore. If only he had known, he would have brought a lantern along. Suddenly, his belt felt loose and he felt something fall from it.

He quickly bundled his robe together grabbing one end of his belt when he felt the now empty strap which had only a moment ago had the small bag of dust and a knife in its pocket spaces. He heard shuffling behind him and turned, panicking. He bent down to feel the ground for traces of the small bag. He only found his knife. He stayed bent, feeling around the hard ground for traces of the dust. His heart began racing when his mind shuffled through fearful thoughts, landing on the prophecy that had gotten Rotyuk murdered by his father. He fought the fear, allowing himself to realize that he was not brought here by the creatures, wherever or whatever they might be, and even if he died here, it was not exactly how the prophecy meant it to happen. It gave him a little comfort, though the fact that he could not know just where he would land when he fell through the enchanted pit annoyed him to the marrow than it shocked him. And this very day unlike others on his personal expeditions was highly unfruitful and was not close to showing him new things. And where is that red dust?!

He had crawled through to the darkest point of the cave where he could reach, and knowing that he had not gone any farther than a certain point, began to repeat his movement back towards the open end of the cave, focusing on the light at that end. He reached the point just immediately  after where the light seemed to visibly run out when he felt something soft and brittle when he rubbed his fingers together against it. Not knowing whether it was the red dust, he pinched some of it and put in his palm, clenching it into a fist, then blew through the hollow. He began to speak the incantations when the sheet appeared, lighting the cave up, and as he stepped into the portal to return himself to his rightful place of existence, he looked at the ground and caught a horrible glance of the floor he had been standing on. It was covered with small snakes! He remembered his first encounter with the mysterious snake that bit Fonjam years ago and jumped, losing his sense of direction when he began spinning through the empty black portal as it sucked him through the upward fall, and when he started falling down, he tried to regain his balance but failed, landing with his upper body at the edge of cliff. Hanging on with his arms, he pulled himself up and landed safely on the soil of Gardutkar.

Fonjam

“My King, may I speak to you?” Fonjam found himself nervous before his friend.

“Of course. What is it?”

“The people, from the talk I have gathered, are beginning to think things, because you are yet without a wife.”

King Greda sighed, but he did not say a word.

Fonjam continued, “It is necessary that you marry so that you find an heir to the throne before anything befalls you.”

“Nothing will happen to me, Fonjam –“

“I know but –“

“But of course, of course, Fonjam! I trust you! You have always burdened yourself with my own interests. But look at you. You are not married either. What about you?”

“My King, you are the King. It is of higher importance to you than it is to me now.”

“The problem is that I have none in mind particularly.”

“You are the King! Do you know how many women in this village are dying to share a bed with you as lord over them?”

“Ha! Wouldn’t that be a problem?” King Greda was amused, not asking the question to get an answer. “Alright, find me a wife. Choose by your own standards my friend. I trust you.”

Fonjam rubbed his beards for a moment, then he looked at the King and smiled, “You will hear from me soon, my King.”

The thought of a wife suddenly thrilled King Greda, but he wasn’t set at it with his whole heart. It was necessary, he reasoned, but with many things arising, he doubted he needed to be starting a royal family just yet. He seemed to feel that a woman would make him weaker, but the people said otherwise. If he would do it, he would do it for the people.

“I will be leaving you now, my King. In seven days, I will bring you 20 virgins to choose from…”

King Greda’s mind had gone to thinking about beauty he was expecting to see in the women Fonjam would bring. He realized that he needed a wife to satisfy his desires; he had seen many women that had kept him looking, and he wondered where his interest in women had gone over the years.

“…like none anyone would easily find in this village…” He could see it; the hair, the perfectly shaped body, the long legs, the slender shoulders, the small hands, the perfectly rounded bosoms, the lips…

“…to announce your marriage after you have made your choice…”

A woman to share my bed with. What man does not want that?

“…will be made ready for you…”

“Wait, Fonjam. I give you two fortnights to find five virgins I will choose from.”

“A month? Hmm…” Fonjam sighed, “Very well my King, as you please. A hunter wise enough to stay in the bush for a long time hunting for meat is also wise enough to go for a few fat ones rather than a dozen thin ones, your highness.” Most of the other things Fonjam said sounded like muffled noises in King Greda’s head.

“Bluh bluh bluh…bluh bluh for bluh bluh woooo wou woo, bluh bluh blah…” said Fonjam, then he exited the palace.

Samthanasmuths

Samnas had dug himself deeper into a world of incantations and rituals that he could not simplify and it was just utterly profound for him to handle. The closest thing to success that Samnas was able to produce from his random rituals was a white powder that shone in the dark and it did basically nothing but that. Or at least he did not know just what it could be used for.

He had been spending a great deal of his time studying Rotyuk’s writings. The gods, according to the writings, had created people according to what each god had power and control over. People had blood in them, which was water belonging to the water god. People had desires in them which if not controlled and directed for good, would consume them and those close to them; fire, belonging to the fire or sun god. People had earth in them, since their bodies became humus a long time after they were dead; earth, belonging to the earth god. People had breath in them that never seemed to run out; air or wind, belonging to the wind god, to whom every person owed his life to for bringing them into existence to fulfill a special purpose. There were other gods and elements, and ancestors some of whom were exalted as gods when they died, but Rotyuk only recorded a few and said that all the others were connected to the basic four gods that governed them.

The shining powder had to be useful for something, anything at all, he reasoned. He could color it red with the blood of a goat to save himself trouble from the King, but he dismissed the thought. The King wasn’t asking for his red dust yet so he could think it through and try making the actual one again, at the risk of causing another fire in the shrine. He had been lucky the King had not mentioned it for a long time. But he had to be fast, because the King could come at any moment.

The young man was in a pool of mixed feelings as he sat on the lowest stool in the shrine, but the stool was not as low as the highest of his feelings. He felt cold and alone, the sun, moon and stars seemed to be deserting him. The gods were not talking. Where were they when you needed them? The earth was moist with the moody wind and tears from the sky, as the clouds came and covered what was left of the man’s sanctity. He had read too much, he had been driven into more confusion as he served the King or Spoke for the gods – he was not even sure which was which, or which he was doing – and the deeper he got into the truth, the deeper it cut and hurt him. He was in the depths of the dark cold forest, all alone and fading slowly into insanity, that he barely managed to reach for his lantern and light it up to illuminate the room and give him the little warmth that there was available for the night. He felt in his heart for the courage to pour himself out to the gods, but they were too holy to be summoned at such a state of his heart. It could kill him.

“Great gods,” he began with more of a squeal than a voice, as everything inside him, everything he knew began to flake bit by bit until there was barely little of them alive. His heart throbbed hard and after murmuring the words he had considered meaningless, he collapsed.

To be continued...

- Telsum Bini