Enyac and Oghale hoisted a square sail and tacked the boat out towards the open sea.
“Thank you, for helping me at the Ferya.” Daerec said.
I nodded and replied: “It’s one of the Collective Laws, to help someone in need.”
“There’s not much use for the Collective Laws, in this place,” Enyac snorted.
I asked them about their curious cloth made masks, so unlike other I had seen.
“That’s because we are merchromes!” said Xai proudly.
“Merchromes?”
“We are chromes of the sea, so we call ourselves merchromes,” explained Daerec.
“And because we spend a lot of time out to sea and in the water, we can’t wear those other masks,” added Enyac.
“We shouldn’t wear any mask if you ask me!” said Daerec.
“Aye!” said everyone else.
I shouted “Aye!” too and we all laughed.
The tartan made its way out in the open waters and soon the only visible part of the coast was Samaris, with its tiny lights in the distance. The stars twinkling against blue velvet of the night and the silvery reflection of the moon on the water provided the only light source. Samaris was so peaceful from afar and yet so violent up close I thought, reflecting on the Janis encampment and the heartless violence of the Red guards during the Ferya. The Red kingdom was not a place of rectitude like I had been made to believe. It was a kingdom of deceit.
Meanwhile, the merchromes started whispering to each other. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Daerec came over to me. “It’s time to cast our net. We have to do it quietly so as not to scare the fish. Here, take this.” He handed me a section of the net. “On my signal, toss it in the water.” When everybody was ready, he raised his arm, “Now!” whispered Daerec, and we all threw the long net overboard.
We waited in silence for a while, and when we pulled the net up, all sorts of creatures fell out on deck, jumping and leaping around in frenzy. We cast the nets out twice more, until the boat was filled with fish and I was no longer sure who smelled worst, us or our catch. It was hard but rewarding work, with much to show for our troubles at the end.
“You’re one lucky chrome, Asheva,” said Daerec. “You won’t need to eat dead rodents for a while!” All the others burst out laughing. He explained that they used to fish in sunlight until they discovered that the best catch could be had at night.
“That’s when the fish go in search of food, but other merchromes are too lazy to go out in the darkness,” he added.
We sailed the tartan back to the shore and spilled out onto the beach, tired yet satisfied with our work. Daerec handed me a basket of fish. “This is for you.”
I thanked him and asked where I could get some salt to preserve my share of the food. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at me. Then they burst out laughing. “You really aren’t of this land, are you?” said Daerec. “We Janis are not allowed to take salt. That’s why there is so much hunger.
“But why? I have seen plenty of it on my way here.”
“Indeed you have. There is more than enough for everyone. But only the Ashis and Sayis are allowed to take their share. If we Janis touch the salt, they say it becomes impure and can’t be used.”
“That’s why if a Janis is caught taking some salt, he is…”
“Impaled,” I concluded, telling them about the victims I had seen on my way to Samaris.
Daerec nodded solemnly. “We can’t use the salt, we can’t go inside the walls, we can’t do anything.”
“Why do you stay here?” I asked. Why don’t you just leave?”
“And go where?” replied Daerec. “This is our land. This is where the gods intended for us to be. To live, suffer and die here.”
I desperately wanted to tell them the truth about the gods, about colors and chromes, and all I had learned, but I knew they wouldn’t believe me. We sat on the beach by the fire and grilled fish. As we waited for the sun to come up, we talked and laughed and joked with one another. It had been a long time since I’d been in such a good company. Then they began to ask about my territory.
“What caste do you belong to in your land?” asked Daerec.
“There are no castes, where I come from,” I said, although in the back of my mind I remembered how some of my friends’ fathers used to receive special privileges from the elders.
Daerec looked at the other four. “See? I told you it was different in the other territories!”
“You mean you can have your own land to grow food?” asked one of them incredulously.
“If that is what you want to do, yes,” I replied.
“And you can study the sacred books?” enquired another.
“You’re expected to do that, in the seminary.” I would have really liked to tell them that in my city too, and I suspected throughout all the territories, all that glittered was not gold. But I held my tongue.
As the sun’s rays ushered in daylight, I noticed a young chrome approaching, walking close to the seashore. It was Tiara. As she settled down on her haunches a distance away, to stare out over the water, I pointed her out to the others and told them her story about the creatures of the sea wanting to take her mother.
“We bury our dead in the sea,” commented Enyac, “Perhaps that is what she meant.”
“So her mother and father are dead?” I said.
“I think so,” replied Enyac. “Although I never saw her father. Some say he was an Ashi although I find that hard to believe. The Ashis wouldn’t tolerate any sin between one of their own and a Janis. If it were true, I’m surprised she’s still alive.”
“Let her be. She’s lost in her own world,” added Daerec.
The sight of her alone on the beach, facing the sea made me sad. I walked towards her, but she did not seem to have noticed me.
“Hello Tiara,” I greeted her.
She turned towards me. “Hello.”
“You must be cold,” I said, taking off what remained of my mantle and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Here, take this.”
She pulled it tight around herself.
“Better?”
She nodded.
“Good.”
“Red is thy heart,” she said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Red is thy heart. It’s what you say to someone after a good deed; it’s what my mother always tells me.”
“Thank you,” I said.
She smiled at me.
When I went back to the others, Daerec invited me to share their shelter with them, so I left the beach and headed back to the encampment with my new Janis friends.
The merchromes’ hut turned out to be a large mud mound, topped by a hole to let in sunlight. It reminded me of an anthill made by Borio ants in Axyum. The inside was crowded with hanging fishnets and beds of straw in a circle against the wall. The wall was decorated with drawings of fish. Daerec pointed to one of the beds and told me to take it. “It belonged to one of our mates,’ he said. “He passed away not too long ago.”
“How did he die?” I asked.
“He died of the disease that gets most of us here. It sweeps you off your feet like a wave and in a matter of days you are summoned by the Gods.”
The two brothers took off their masks. They were almost identical, with copper-colored hair that sharply contrasted with their pale skin faces. Besides the different voices, the only other difference between them was the color of the eyes. Daerec’s were gray and Enyac’s a transparent blue.
“What about your father and mother?” I asked them.
“Our mother died giving birth to us,” replied Daerec.
“And the king killed our father,” said Enyac.
“Why?” I asked.
“It was during a protest for food, before the latest war with the Blacks.”
“Kill one to teach many,” said Daerec bitterly as he slumped down on his bed. Within minutes he had fallen asleep. Enyac remained awake.
“The Ki
ng had my father killed here among the Janis, so that everyone could see.”
“Why do you stand for it?” I asked. “Why doesn’t anyone rebel against this?”
“Look at us, Asheva,” he said. “Most of us die early because of the disease. The ones who reach old age become beggars that sit by their huts wasting what little they have left of their lives in brawls. We try to fight, we even built that tartan with our own hands, but no one follows our lead. Everyone’s afraid the Sayis and Ashis will kill us if we show resilience.”
All I could think of was how honored I felt being with such chromes. I thought I had suffered in the territories, but my experiences were as nothing compared to my new friends.
As I lay in my new bed, I thought about Chtomio. I had to find him and show him there were other valiant soldiers who would be perfect for his quest.
16. The Gatekeepers
When I woke up, I told my new found friends the purpose of my journey to Samaris and of my intention to sneak inside the city to find Chtomio.
“You’re out of your mind,” said Daerec.
Enyac agreed. “The Gatekeepers will kill you the moment you try and enter the passage.”
“But I’m dressed like a Red,” I said. “Why shouldn’t they let me go through?”
“Entrance to Samaris is prohibited to anyone who isn’t Ashi or Sayi.”
“The Sayis go through the left passage and the Ashis enter at the right. In order to keep your head attached to the rest of you, you must show the seal that proves you are either a Sayi or an Ashi.”
“What if I just say I lost my seal?”
They both laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“The seal is a symbol marked on your arm, given only to Says and Ashis. You can’t lose your arm! Not unless you ask one of the guards to slice it off for you.”
“What sort of symbol?”
They drew an ‘A’ and an ‘S’ on their mud wall. Now it was my turn to laugh.
The two brothers looked at each other.
“My friend Chtomio has an ‘A’ on his left arm, so he must be a noble. All the more the reason I have to talk to him. All I need is to mark an ‘A’ on mine.”
“We can help you with that,” said Enyac, reaching for a canvas bag from which he took a small bowl full of dark liquid. “It comes from cuttlefish and squid.” He pointed to the decorations on the walls. “I use it to draw likenesses of what we catch,” he said. “Give me your left arm.”
He picked up a stick and within a few moments had meticulously painted a beautiful ‘A’ on my arm.
“There!” he said when he had finished, satisfied by his work. “My friend, you have just become an Ashi!”
But Daerec sounded a cautious note. “It can’t be that easy,” he said.
“There’s only one way to find out,” I said.
“This friend of yours must be very important if you’re willing to risk your head for him.”
“I owe him my life,” I said.
They glanced at each other.
“Come then, the least we can do is to accompany you to the gates.”
“No, I’ll go alone. If I’m caught as an imposter and they see you two with me they may kill you too.”
Daerec clasped my arm tightly. “If you make it out alive, know that there will always be a place for you in our tartan. I’m pretty sure we can make a good merchrome out of you.”
“I hope we see you again,” added Enyac, sounding very much like he thought he probably wouldn’t.
“I am sure you will,” I replied.
Before I made my way back to the mountain, I cleansed myself in the sea, in part to wash away the stench of the fish - no proper noble would want to smell like a merchrome - but also to make sure the seal Enyac painted did not easily fade away. And indeed it stayed on as if it was a birthmark. I was excited to have discovered Chtomio was a noble. As I neared the entrance to Samaris, I could feel my enthusiasm growing. Soon my friend and I would meet again.
When I reached the two tunnel entrances to the city, there was no sign of the beggars from before. They now bustled with chromes and carts passing in and out. Yellow and Orange merchants formed an orderly queue. Their carriages were stacked high with food, garments and metals. In front of them were a line of carts guarded by Red chromes, each piled with sacks of salt. The Yellow and Orange merchants would wait while a Red cart was brought over. Then the Yellows and Oranges unloaded their wares on to the Red carts whilst taking the salt sacks in return (I couldn’t help but notice how the Reds let the Yellows and Oranges do all the heaving and lifting). Then the carts, now stacked high with their foreign goods were rolled inside the passages by two Reds while the carts bearing the sacks of salt were rolled away by the Yellow and Orange merchants. One supervising Red chrome barked out directions the whole while: left for the Sayis, right for the Ashis. It was all very quick and efficient, as though this type of trade and barter had been going on for longer than any could remember.
With all the coming and going, perhaps the Gatekeepers inside the tunnel would be less prone to verify my seal, I thought. The time had come. I made my way past the carts and the Yellow and Orange merchants and towards the Red supervisor chrome, who was inspecting garments in an Orange cart. “Sayi!” he shouted.
Goods sent through the Sayis’ tunnel returned far fewer sacks than those rolling out of the Ashis’. The Orange shook their heads in disapproval but began to unload stacks of long velvet cloaks, collecting their sacks of salt in exchange, all the same.
I moved passed the supervisor chrome and headed towards the right passage, underneath the god Adio, where only the noble Ashis could go. The chrome turned his mask towards me as I went. I stopped, fearing he would say something. Instead he just nodded and gave a slight bow. I returned with a slight tilting of my head and moved on into the tunnel.
For a moment I walked in complete darkness towards a cool breeze which blew from inside the city, bringing with it a scent of citrus and pine trees.
After a moment or so, a glow of light from up ahead illuminated four enormous figures standing abreast across the passage, each easily the size of at least two normal chromes. I recognized their gray skull-like masks and their blood red mantles. These were the Gatekeepers. One of them held a scimitar, its blade reflecting the flames of the torches burning high on the walls either side of them.
“The seal!” cried one of them.
I rolled up my left sleeve and made sure the ‘A’ was visible. The sea liquid Enyac had used was still vivid on my skin. One of the gatekeepers came close and scrutinized my arm closely. I was genuinely afraid that standing so near to me, he would be able to hear my heart thumping loudly in my chest. After what felt like half a vigil, he looked at me and said: “thank you, oh noble one.” Then all four bowed in unison.
I continued on, my breath returning and my heart beat gradually slowing. In fact, I was beginning to rather enjoy the bowing and reverence. But most important of all, I had made it! I was in Samaris!
I should have known by now that when things seem too good to be true, they almost certainly are. The gods love to punish pride and foolish complacency. I arrived at another station inside the tunnel. This time, there were no gatekeepers, just iron bars blocking the passage. In the middle of the iron grate stood a metallic cage the size of a chrome. It was open, but the door had numerous pointed sharp spikes. Once closed, that cage would become a death chamber.
Daerec’s cautionary words came back to haunt me. It’s too easy. He was right. What an idiot I had been, thinking that a tattoo is all it would take to let me inside! And now here I was trapped inside the tunnel, with no way back and the way forward promising almost certain death.
There was a cart in front of the caged entrance. A Red guard was unloading it. Seeing I was behind the cart he gestured for me to come forward. “Please, noble one. Do not let me hinder you.”
I had no choice. I slowly made my way around the cart to the grate. The spiked
door was open. Perhaps the cage was just a sinister relic of older times, I tried to tell myself. Perhaps it no longer works. From the other side of the bars, a shadow materialized from the walls. His mask was white with a red circle on his forehead. He stood facing me from the other side of the cage.
“Are you going to just stand there, or are you coming through?” he said impatiently.
I glanced behind me to see the guard unloading the goods looking at me.
“Is all well, noble guardian?” he asked the chrome behind the bars with what sounded to me like a distinct note of suspicion in his voice.
This was it, I was convinced. The gods were finally going to punish me for my insolence. I turned towards the door and hesitated, hoping that at least it would be quick and I might feel no pain. I counted more than ten spikes. They would spear me like a soft melon. I took a step forward inside the cage and looked at the Red guardian facing me.
He pulled a handle and the door closed behind me. I braced myself for the inevitable, for my last short moments in this world to pass. But the moments came and went and nothing happened. The spikes remained a palm’s length away from my back. Now the chrome placed his hand on another lever. This one was connected to a spring which, if released, would slam the spiked door into my hide. He came closer to my mask and whispered something I did not understand.
“What?” I asked.
“I said, the password,” he murmured. I glanced down to see his grip on the lever tighten.
My fate had already been in the hands of the gods more than once. I knew that by coming here I had challenged their benevolence yet again. I had tested their patience too far this time. How was I ever to guess what password the nobles gave to each other in order to gain access into Samaris?
But if the gods are on your side, anything is possible. The noblest thing to say to someone? I had one guess and one only. The noblest word or words, what would they be? And right there, in that moment, four of them tumbled in to my mind, as if put there by the gods themselves. As they left my lips, there was not a mite of doubt in my mind that they were the ones that would save my life.
Kingdom of Deceit Page 5