Journey of Awakening

by Shawna Thomas

  “Roasted luna fruit with honey.” Danladi’s eyes sparkled and he licked his lips in anticipation.

  “Okay. You rest while I’m gone and when I go to the Fire, I’ll bring you as much luna fruit as you can eat.”

  “With honey?”

  Sara glanced to Chavi, who nodded. “With honey.”

  “Where are you going?” Danladi’s mouth pursed into a pout.

  “Your father has invited me to go with the caravan to see the salt plains. We leave this morning but we’ll be back for the Fire.”

  “The salt pans aren’t very interesting.” Danladi made a face.

  “Maybe not to you,” Chavi said, her voice stern. “But it is a source of great pride to the Heleini, Danladi. Please show restraint.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Danladi glanced at his lap then up to Sara. “You’ll sneeze,” he whispered.

  Sara smiled and patted his head. “Rest. Obey your mother.” She rose from the d’jalla and turned to Chavi. “Do you have any questions about the salves he needs?”

  “No.” Chavi smiled. “Go. See the land of the Heleini. We’ll be fine here.”

  * * *

  Shadows stretched from plants clinging to life in the hard-packed dirt. Sara thought the plants were very much like the Heleini. Instead of withering beneath the sun, they stretched their roots deep to nurture from the Faisach.

  She heard hoofbeats behind her and sensed Tobar before he spoke.

  “We will stop for the night at those outcroppings.” He pointed toward rocks jutting into the sky along the horizon.

  Sara nodded then looked back when one of the pack animals let out a sound somewhere between the bleating of a sheep and honking of a goose. The animals, buila, resembled large, long-haired goats, but with broad backs. Even weighed down with stores, blankets and water for the men at the salt fields, they didn’t seem to tire. Five Heleini rode with the beasts, prodding them when they got sidetracked by the occasional vegetation growing along the path. Two other men rode horses with her and Tobar, sharing jokes back and forth, their teeth flashing against dark faces when they laughed. She had her chaperones, but Zeynel was not one of them. He had elected to stay at the winter camp; Durriken was teaching him the ancient tongue of the Heleini, now only spoken in ceremony.

  She’d been worried about riding alone, but her mount proved to be gentle and Tobar kept the pace slow. Sara stared into the east where dark mountains rose against a deep blue sky in the distance, and closer, sand dunes rippled under the setting sun, golden waves broken by the occasional dots of green. “You spoke of other tribes dwelling in this land.”

  His eyes guarded, Tobar nodded.

  “How large is your territory?”

  His hand fluttered to the horizon and traced an arch across the sky, mimicking the sun. “The People Sabo-Wen brought from the Far South roam from the mountains in the east, to the mountains in the west, from the marshes to the north and the wasteland in the south where no man can tread. When Sabo-Wen divided the land, we drew lots. There were many tribes then. The Rabishi drew first and chose the fertile plains and river country in the north. The Zorcani chose the mountains rich in game and stone. The Heleini were the last tribe to draw. We were left with the southwest.” Pride infused his face. “It was barren, with little water. The first few years were hard. But the Heleini are strong and we have thrived and grown where others in more fertile lands have faded from all but memory. The land has rewarded us with riches at first not plain to the eye. In the eastern part of our lands, there is a stone, black and hard.” He drew a short knife from his belt, its black blade gleaming in his hand. “Talith. Much prized and sought after by the traders.” He pointed to the south. “We built wells wherever we found water, but in the south the water was not sweet.” He smiled. “Salt. Also much sought after by traders.”

  “And your tribe became wealthy?

  Tobar shrugged. “We have worked hard.”

  “And what of the other tribes?”

  “It has been many seasons since I’ve heard of the other tribes. Once it was not so, but now, it is better that we stay in our own territory.”

  “How do you determine where your territory ends and another’s begins?”

  “We know. Rocks have been set up in various places to remind us.”

  “Why is it better that you stay in your own territory? Have there been disagreements among the tribes?”

  His voice was rich and deep. She could listen to him talk all day.

  “Yes.” He sighed. “Once there were no boundaries. Lines in the sand were foreign and unnecessary.” A look of pain crossed Tobar’s face. “We are one people. How do you divide the earth? Does it give its permission? Who claims ownership of the heavens? The beasts of the field? The air? Doesn’t the water flow where it will and the animals roam where they like?”

  Sara stared at Tobar’s face. Small creases formed on his forehead as he stared into the distance. His skin glowed under the heat from the sun.

  “Sabo-Wen.”

  “You have been reading.” Tobar turned the full power of his gaze to her.

  Sara struggled to swallow. “Your people originated from the south, no?”

  He smiled, eyes crinkling. “You’ve also been studying our history.”

  “Yes. Durriken has been reading me the history of the People.”

  “And no doubt loving every minute of it. Yes, many, many lifetimes ago we came from the south. We were a race of slaves, separate and weak until Sabo-Wen united us. We became one people, strong. We overthrew our tormentors and journeyed north to settle here. For a short time the People dwelled together, but we became too numerous and many were too used to living alone. The People separated: the Rabishi to the north, the Zorcani to the east and the Heleini in the Faisach, as I have said. There were other tribes, but they have since vanished. There are still small bands of the People who roam between territories, belonging to no tribe: outcasts.” His eyes grew distant.

  The bleats of the pack animals and gentle thrum of horses hooves filled the silence.

  “Sabo-Wen was a wise man,” Tobar began again. “He gathered a diverse people and he led us through the wasteland to give us our freedom. He ruled wisely for many seasons and the People prospered.” Tobar closed his eyes. “The Heleini walk and we know the joy of movement, of following the lay of our land. We’re content because our land proves that we’re alive. The Zorcani are stuck in their mountain keeps, slaves to the whims of rock and ice. The Rabishi keep to the river valleys and to them, the river is life and their master. We no longer understand the ways of our brothers. The Heleini are a people of the wind. We do not make demands of the earth or the heavens.”

  “Rather than try to subdue it, it sounds as if you live in harmony with the Faisach,” she said.

  He opened his eyes and stared into Sara’s. “You are wise. It is so. We are at peace with the land and ourselves. How many people can say that?”

  * * *

  The sky was a fire of crimson and blue, as though the sun fought to survive its descent. Sara watched, seated on a small boulder as, victorious, the west swallowed the sun and darkness claimed the sky. “You are deep in thought.” Tobar approached on silent tread.

  They’d camped near a cluster of large rocks sheltering a grove of fruit trees, their scent sweet and ripe. “I was thinking about friends I’d left behind.” She felt Tobar settle on a rock near her. His fragrance waved through the
evening air, blending with the heady aroma of the night.

  “Does this make you sad?”

  She turned to find his dark gaze on her and felt his nearness with every cell in her body. An unfamiliar electricity coursed through her veins. “Yes it does. I miss them.”

  “Yet, they are near, as near as a memory.” His fingers brushed hers. “It is said that the gods give us memories so those we love will never die.”

  An ache settled low in her stomach. She stood. “That’s beautiful, but—”

  “Can you smell them?” He captured her hand in his.

  She focused on their twined fingers. “Them?”

  “The luna fruit. They are almost ripe.”

  Sara nodded. “Danladi’s favorite dessert.”

  “Yes, and one of mine.” Not letting go of her hand, he gently pulled her toward the trees. “But you have not tasted luna until you’ve tasted it moments after it’s plucked from its branch.”

  Away from the campfires, the light of the stars brightened the landscape, softening lines and muting colors into shades of gray. Sara glanced at Tobar. His eyes borrowed the starlight and sent sparks of fire deep in her belly as he gazed down at her. He laughed. “You look so serious. Come on. We’re almost there.”

  Half a dozen stunted trees reached gnarled arms to the sky. The sweet fragrance of the fruit was overwhelming. Silver oval orbs hung from dark branches, like jewelry from an old woman’s ears. Tobar led Sara among the trees, inspecting the fruit with his free hand. “You see, luna ripens by the light of the moon. If you pick it in the daytime, it loses its sweetness.” He inspected a fruit. “There is an old story among the People that the Tei became prideful in his power and glory. The One, the great father god, grew angry and so to teach the sun a lesson, created a fruit the sun would always crave but would never be able to enjoy.”

  “The One?” The Siobani worshipped the One. What did the Heleini know of them?

  “An ancient god. The one from which all others sprang.” He paused. “Aha.” Tobar reached out and plucked a fruit that to her looked like all the others he’d passed by.

  He turned to Sara, his gaze penetrating. “The trick is picking them at the peak of their ripeness. It takes a trained eye.” With deft fingers, he peeled the fruit then tore off a section. “Lucky for you, I’ve the skill.” He held the dripping fruit to her mouth.

  She accepted the morsel. His fingers brushed her lips as a delicate sweetness met her taste buds. Juice dripped down her chin.

  “What do you think?”

  She licked her lips, her heart beating staccato. “It doesn’t need honey.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” His voice was deep, almost husky. He reached out and wiped juice from her mouth then brought the finger to his lips. “Beautiful.”

  Sara swallowed. Her every nerve ending was painfully aware of his presence. So, this is desire. She brought a hand up and traced the line of his cheek down to his jaw. He closed his eyes. For a moment, nothing mattered except being close to him. Then reality crashed through her trance. She wasn’t here for romance. Maybe he seduced every woman he could. He did have six wives. But he was so beautiful. With the lightest of touches, her fingers traced his full lips. “Thank you, Tobar.” She spun and walked back to camp.

  * * *

  The terrain grew rockier as the land dipped. Great needles of crimson rock reached into the pale blue sky. In the distance, gray clouds piled over the mountaintops. Sara pulled her cloak more firmly around her shoulders. The air still held night’s chill.

  Tobar rode alongside her. He seemed quiet. She glanced toward him as he yawned. Perhaps he’d gotten as little sleep as she had. She could only hope he was tormented by thoughts of her, but she doubted it.

  “First winter storm.” He gestured toward the horizon with his chin. “But not for a moon, at least. It is good we came now, before the Fire.” He breathed deep. “Can you smell it?”

  Sara sniffed. The air smelled dusty, with a distinct alkaline tang. “Yes.”

  Tobar’s face lit up. “Salt.”

  The land sank into a shallow basin. The horses neighed, surging forward as if recognizing their journey’s end.

  “Akier.”

  Sara reached for her sword. The voice came from a nearby rock formation.

  “Peitro,” Tobar called.

  A dark-skinned man stepped onto the path, a long tube in one hand. He slid a dart from the tube, its point gleaming as he replaced it in the quiver hanging from his belt. “Akier.” He touched his hand to his forehead then approached Tobar’s horse, whistling three distinct notes. More men appeared. The Heleini dismounted, sharing back slaps and grins. Curious glances flashed in her direction.

  Tobar gestured for her to near. “This is Sara. She is a healer and a guest of my house. I’ve brought her to see the Heleini wealth.”

  Peitro bowed, touching a hand to his forehead. “We are honored. Please come, eat. It has been too long since we heard from camp.” He turned to Tobar. “How is Bindra?”

  Tobar smiled. “Growing larger with your child every day. Your time will be done before she births.”

  Peitro nodded.

  “Time?” Sara asked.

  “Once a Heleini male is of age, he takes a turn tending the salt fields for three moon cycles. There are always twenty men here,” Tobar explained. “Even when we are not harvesting.”

  “More than is needed.” One of the men broke in.

  “Not if we’re raided again,” Peitro said.

  Tobar continued. “It is hard and tedious work, but a man may serve only once or twice in his lifetime.”

  “Have you?”

  “You have a low opinion of me, Healer.” Tobar’s smile could be heard in his voice. “Yes. I’ve worked the pans. I’ve tasted salt with every breath, felt it leach the moisture from my skin, dust me white with powder until I became one with this land and it with me. I am Heleini.” Tobar’s eyes gleamed.

  It was clear that more than his heritage made him a leader. Tobar was someone men would follow. A wry smile turned one corner of her mouth. Women too.

  Peitro led them to a group of tents pressed up against a hill and sheltered by a rock shelf. The smell of cooking mixed with the alkaline-scented air. Sara’s mouth watered. It felt strange to be without Zeynel. She missed the assurance of his presence.

  “Tobar!” A tall man stepped out of a tent and engulfed Tobar in a hug.

  “It is good to see you, my friend.” Tobar returned the embrace.

  “And you, especially since you bring food.” The man’s eyes widened as they took in Sara. “And a feast for the eyes as well.”

  Tobar stepped closer to her. “This is Sara. She is a healer and my guest. Sara, this is Bassim, my friend since birth.”

  Bassim turned to Sara. “It is a pleasure. I’ve only seen these ugly faces for over a moon cycle. Your beauty enriches this camp.” He bowed low. “How did you come to be with this scoundrel?”

  “Danladi was lost. We journeyed into the Faisach and met Sara. She found him.”

  Bassim’s laughter rumbled deep in his chest. “Only you, Tobar, could go out into the wastelands and bring back a beautiful woman.”

  Tobar shrugged. “The gods gift to us all a measure of talent.”

  Bassim’s large hand patted Tobar on the back, but he brought his gaze back to Sara. “A healer? If you wouldn’t mind. I’ve got an ache. Do you think—”

  “Bassim!”
<
br />   Bassim turned back to Tobar. “What?” After a moment, he chuckled. “Not everyone has a mind like yours, Tobar. Do you remember when that devil horse threw me? My knee has been giving me pain in the morning and keeping me from sleep at night.” Bassim turned his gaze back to Sara.

  Sara laughed. “I’m sure I have something that will ease your ache, Bassim. Is there somewhere...?”

  “Yes. Follow me.” Bassim led her to a tent. Sara glanced behind her. Tobar stared at them, a frown on his face, as they entered the dim enclosure.

  * * *

  The tent was dim, reddish light filtering through the cloth walls. Several d’jallas lay stacked toward the back alongside large earthenware jars. An unlit hearth stood in the middle under a small opening in the ceiling. Bassim sat on one of the bedding rolls. “Thank you. I should have waited until you’ve eaten and refreshed yourself, but my manners are as dusty as this land.”

  “I wasn’t hungry anyway,” Sara lied. She hadn’t eaten since nibbling at some fruit that morning. “Let’s see your knee.”

  Bassim pulled off his boot, grimacing, then rolled up his trousers. His knee was twice the size it should have been. Sara prodded gently with her fingertips. The skin was warm to the touch. “When was the injury?”

  “Four, five winters ago.”

  Sara nodded, then fished in her bag, producing a pouch. “This is a tea. Drink it every night. It should reduce the swelling.” She rescued a small earthenware jar and broke the seal. The air filled with the smell of camphor. “Rub this on mornings and nights.”

  Bassim made a face. “To keep the women away?”

  “What women?”

  “Good point.”

  “This will help take the pain and swelling away but I’m afraid it may never heal fully.”

  Bassim shrugged. “It is as Tei wills.”

  * * *

  “Bassim is well?”

  Sara glanced up from her bowl as Tobar settled across from her. “Yes. There is some swelling, but I gave him a salve and tea that should ease the pain.”