Journey to Water's Heart

by Lea Ben Shlomo

  “I won’t.”

  The scarf was embroidered with implied landscape drawings—mountaintops, lakes, vegetation, and flowers—and various symbols, among them long-beaked birds with letters hiding among their feathers. The lines and symbols served as a map, with borderlines depicted by delicate embroidery stitches. Mountains and gullies; the four winds and directions; landmarks; water sources; settled territories. Under Aklivor’s guidance, Tanti learned to recognize the signs. He filled the pages Aklivor gave him by drawing the map from memory, and checked with the scarf until he managed to draw a map similar to that on the scarf. Aklivor patted his back.

  “You’ve worked hard today,” he said. “And you’re ready to leave.”

  “I have learned a lot,” Tanti said. “But I’m not so sure I’m ready to leave.”

  “You’re ready, my boy. As ready as you’ll ever be considering the brief time you spent here. We must take advantage of the remaining summer days.” Aklivor patted his back. “It was a pleasure teaching you. You’ll discover more things during your journey. And now, let’s leave, because they’re waiting for us. Mainly for you.”

  He led Tanti to the afternoon gathering point. Here, an especially pleasant surprise waited for him.

  Next to the table, facing the house’s front door, waited his parents and two brothers, as well as Galena, the girl from the convoy, leaning on Blaind’s shoulder, smiling and blushing.

  He ran to them to hug them. It seemed as though weeks had passed since he’d left home. He’d changed, and so had they.

  His father wrapped him in his arms and held him for a long time without saying a word. His mother wiped her eyes. She didn’t know what exactly his mission entailed. Her heart told her that the separation would be long.

  The people of the Water Farm stepped away a bit and gave Tanti and his family the privacy they needed in order to spend some time together.

  His brothers looked different than they had several days ago. They’d matured. They sat at the table and told him about their new positions. The country was assuming a new face. The mountain people had allied themselves with the people of Izmeran in the war against the bandits. Preparations for escorting the convoys and protecting the miners brought hope to people’s hearts. It looked as though it wouldn’t be a problem to recruit people for the required assignments.

  His father looked a bit tired. His responsibilities had grown twofold, as he labored over reinforcing the mining of the deposits. He also consulted his sons regarding the recruitment of highway guards, and how to train and deploy them. Many mountain people were employed now thanks to his mediating. They were diligent and useful, and grateful for the opportunity to ease their poverty and isolation.

  Andama, his mother, held his hands and studied him closely. “Tanti, my little boy, you’re filling these big shoes, and no one asked for my opinion, no one asked for my permission, and already you’re being sent on this long, mysterious journey. Your father is at the mines, and your brothers are protecting the convoys with their own bodies. I’ve already come to terms with the endless waiting, worrying until you return, training the horses without you. This time it’s different, Tanti, and the separation from you is the hardest thing.” Tears choked her.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” Tanti said quietly. “Things happened quickly, and I couldn’t refuse the council’s request.”

  “Of course not. You shouldn’t have refused. Unless you’re not at peace with the assignment.”

  “After everything I’ve learned here, I have no doubt regarding the necessity of this journey.”

  “Well then, there’s nothing left for me to do but give you my blessing. I’ll wait for you. We all will. We’ll pray for your safe return.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. Tanti hugged his mother.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Don’t be sorry, son,” Andama said, smiling through her tears. “A boy shouldn’t have to ask his mother’s permission to grow up, right?”

  A soft whinny and the sound of hooves were heard behind him.

  Next to the gate stood a white horse, demanding Tanti’s attention. Gayalo stretched his neck and huffed. Tanti went to pat him. On his back were packages and bundles. While Gayalo chewed his sleeve affectionately, Tanti looked at his family. They were observing the wonders of the Water Farm, as well as its residents, now wearing their gowns as they prepared themselves for the twilight ceremony. Only then did Tanti realize he had only one more night left before he embarked on his journey the next morning.

  The people of the Water Farm started placing the dinner trays on the tables. The Marins were surrounded by their hosts, and the yard filled with laughter and conversation.

  The guests caused excitement, and Tanti’s upcoming journey turned the meal into a celebratory farewell feast. Tanti didn’t forget to thank the girls for embroidering the scarf. Ninei and Ninai stuck close and were serious and quiet. Tanti would’ve preferred that they roll around and even throw the tentapops at him. Anything but seeing them this sad. Already he missed their odd smiles, as well as Manin’s teasing and Aklivor’s fascinating lessons.

  The sun set slowly.

  It was time to say goodbye. Tanti walked his family to the farm’s gate.

  “I gave you everything I can give you, my young, rash son,” his father said. “Now, you’re on your own. I trust you. I know what you’re made of.”

  “We’ll wait for you. No matter how long your journey, we’ll wait for you,” said his mother.

  “We’ll miss you and your currents.” Blaind joined the hug. Galena kissed his cheek lightly, as though she were one of the family.

  I miss you already, Tanti wanted to say. More hugs, kisses, and pats on the back. And they left.

  Tanti turned to walk back. After several steps, he stopped. He wanted some time alone, to treasure the feelings that filled his heart. Stars started glittering in the sky. Tanti sat down on a flat rock, fingering the new necklace hanging around his neck, a present from his family. It was a small crystal drop, so polished that he could see its delicate, deep transparency. Galena, Blaind’s girl, was the one who had handed him the necklace. Judging by its quality, Tanti guessed that the crystal was one of the jewels created by her father, Klomel, the highest-ranking jeweler in Izmeran, made out of the crystal he had found in the mountain.

  “A star fell straight to your neck,” said Manin, who appeared suddenly and stood before him. “I’ve never seen a star fall so close. I didn’t know they were so beautiful.”

  “If you could see your eyes,” said Tanti, “you’d see that there are luminaries that are even more beautiful.”

  “Tanti Marin, you know how to sweet-talk your way into a girl’s heart.”

  “And you do that with your eyes. And with your apple cakes.”

  Manin laughed. “Of course, if no one wakes me at the crack of dawn…”

  Tanti joined her laughter. Then they stood together silently, looking up at the stars twinkling against the dark canvas of the sky.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” Tanti said.

  “Yes. I’ve come to say goodbye.” She gave him a package wrapped with a thick cloth. “These are gold coins you can use anywhere,” she said. “We here will wait for you. Aklivor believes you can fulfill your quest. And we, the people of the Water Farm, trust his choice.”

  “Thank you, Manin. I won’t forget those words.”

  “Don’t forget. Be careful, Tanti, yet daring. There is much at stake.”

  “I know.” He held her hand, which was cold and trembling, before he took the package and put it in his belt.

  “He loves me, Tanti, and he’s staying with me. You’re leaving.”

  “I’ll be back, Manin.”

  “Can you promise to come back to me, and that all your thoughts and dreams will be about me?”

  “I… I don’t…”

&
nbsp; A heavy silence descended.

  “Dol wouldn’t have hesitated in his answer,” she finally said.

  A tiny star broke away from the sky, falling down and separating forever from it star friends. For a moment, its tail glowed, and then it disappeared into the darkness of the night. When Tanti turned to look, Manin was no longer by his side.

  The next day, at dawn, he said his goodbyes to the people of the Water Farm. Manin stood by Dol, staring at the ground. Ninei and Ninai stood close to their mother, weeping. Aklivor walked him to the gate. He laid his hand on Tanti’s shoulder, as if seeking to equip him for the journey as much as he could.

  “Remember, pain and truth are intertwined. Don’t try to escape the darkness. Choose your directions according to the guidance of your heart, for many colors hide in colorlessness. Fire both illuminates and blinds. Water is soft yet invasive. May you go with your eyes open and your spirit innocent. Have you listened carefully to my words, Tanti?”

  “Yes, I have,” Tanti said. “Even though I’m not sure I understood what they meant.”

  “Not knowing is the beginning of understanding,” said Aklivor. “Remember those words, and when the time comes, they’ll be of help.”

  “I’ll remember,” Tanti said. He turned around, waved, got on his horse, and yelled to Ninei and Ninai, Aklivor’s great-great-grandchildren, that he’d bring them presents when he returned. They stopped crying and started running after the departing rider and horse, until the distance between them grew and they couldn’t catch up with him.

  Chapter 9

  On the Way

  It was late morning. The sun was shining. On both sides of the road, poppies and pimpernels bloomed in the green grass. Ancient trees gripped the boulders. Flocks of birds landed and took off against the blue sky speckled with white clouds.

  Tanti rode along the Izamar River, which crossed the country. Watercraft sailed along the river, carrying cargo and people. Fishing villages were scattered along the river, and irrigation tunnels led from the river to green fields. At noon, he left the river and started riding toward the mountains. From afar, he could see the dark line of the Basalt River mountains. In order to reach them, he had to pass by a chain of forested hills. He dismounted Gayalo and walked before him, leading him by his halter up the path. Just as Aklivor had instructed, he found the cluster of wood cabins that belonged to the mountain people, who were expecting his arrival. They welcomed him and made sure his stay was as pleasant as possible at their humble settlement on the mountainside, among thick vegetation.

  At dawn, Tanti was on his way again, after his hosts served him piping-hot apple juice seasoned with jasmine leaves, a property to invigorate the blood, they told him. They gave him rolls and hard, salty cheese from their sheep farm. They took good care of Gayalo and gave him a nice place to rest among their horses. Tanti thanked his hosts. When he tried to pay them, they waved him off laughingly. “It’s an honor to host the son of Tarkian, who has helped us so.” They wished him a safe journey and accompanied him down the path, until it opened and became a wide road.

  His colorful clothes blended with the blooming sights of nature. His hat was tilted rakishly to the left, and his embroidered scarf fluttered in the wind. If this was how his journey continued, he had a pleasant one ahead of him, he thought. He raised his head and his heart swelled. The flat path stretched before him. The movements in the flat plains filled his heart with joy. The events of the last week, the Water Farm, his village, his family, all seemed pale and distant. He felt the familiar clenching in his stomach, like he’d felt when he went with his father and brothers to discover a new mineral. This time he was alone, and his weighty, mysterious mission increased the feeling of expectation within him.

  Gayalo’s hooves clattered rhythmically on the road. Tanti clicked his tongue, matching it to the horse’s pace. Ticko-tacka. Ticko-ticko tim. He started singing, a deep, rolling echo reverberating from the mountain.

  This is the day I will fly away

  Like a fool gone free

  And travel with no boundary

  To touch the world’s beauty

  And discover its magic.

  The clouds will lead me

  Through blood hued sunsets

  While I ride on the wind on wings above,

  Into the heart of the world.

  I will thank the goodness and subtle perfumes.

  I will listen to the melody not yet played.

  I take no belongings or possessions,

  Only your blessings as I

  Fly far away.

  The vegetation grew sparse as he approached the mountain wall. The ground became rocky and exposed. The Basalt River mountains stood before him, blocking his way. They looked like an enormous wave of water, which had frozen and left signs of that wave furrowed along the mountains.

  Tanti stopped his horse and spread his scarf. He examined the embroidery. The bird beaks clearly pointed to the direction he was taking.

  “Gayalo, my dear horse,” Tanti said, a sliver of fear creeping into his heart. “We’re continuing forward as Aklivor ordered us to. So don’t try to lead me to a different road.”

  Gayalo turned around, his huge eyes staring at Tanti as if saying, Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

  “I won’t. I promise.” Tanti patted the horse’s side, and urged him forward.

  A passageway was created by a gap between the two mountain walls. Tanti noticed it only after riding past it several times. The passage was hidden behind the bend of a rock. Without the guiding signs of the map, he would’ve continued forward without noticing it. Tanti and his horse started walking down the path.

  A murder of crows, perching on the branches of a naked tree, greeted him with loud screeches, as though trying to warn him. The dark, towering mountains hid the sky. Gayalo became restless. They moved forward for another hour; the only sound they heard was the crunch of gravel beneath the horse’s hooves. Tanti hesitated as to whether to stop and rest, or make another effort and leave the place as soon as possible.

  On both sides of the steep mountains, he noticed caves that looked like black stains. The mountains edged closer to the road, which became narrower. The caves became wider and increased in number, until the mountain looked like a sieve. Tanti looked around worriedly. He’d never seen anything like this in his life! It seemed as though the black holes were moving… No, not the entrances, but something moving inside. Suddenly, he realized that live creatures inhabited the caves and were following his movements. They started revealing their hairy heads, sticking them out of the caves. Numerous brown lumps emerged from the cave entrances.

  Now, he remembered the stories told by the nomads about the furry cave dwellers who attacked passersby. At the time, around the fire, safely ensconced between his father and brothers, he treated them as no more than tall tales, fairy tales for children. But now, faced with the odd sight, he remembered what the nomads had said about their cruelty and their extreme cunning. A shudder passed through his entire body, and his hair stood up like the spines of a hedgehog.

  “Giddyup, Gayalo!” he said, urging his horse and trying to overcome his terror. Roundish creatures started emerging from the caves and rolled softly down to the path. Gayalo broke into a gallop. Had he galloped like this during the spring competitions in his country, Tanti would have won the championship title for the next hundred years. The furry, round-as-a-ball creatures didn’t look as though they meant to give the prize to the long-necked white horse who was galloping as though his life depended on it. They swarmed down from both sides of the path and started doddering after them.

  The path became narrower and narrower. There was barely space for one person. The mountains closed in on the path and loomed closer, the steep walls hunching over until their edges almost met and became one.

  This is it, Tanti thought. In a second, they’ll catch us, like mice i
n a trap. No wonder these brown creatures aren’t hurrying, but just rolling along quietly and calmly.

  When they gained on him, they looked soft and round. Their fur gleamed in the sun. Tanti felt an urge to dismount his horse and pet one of them. Maybe they’d calm down.

  Just then, one of the furroids caught up with them and grabbed Gayalo’s leg. From the force of the horse’s gallop, the furroid was flung off, leaving behind a bleeding gash. Other furroids closed the gap, scratching and biting the horse’s heels. Some were trampled beneath his hooves. Others were flung off. Tanti gripped the straps of his waterskin and started lashing at them. It looked as though he wouldn’t have enough strength to fight off the multiple creatures pursuing them. Behind him, the road was heaving with dense brown fur. The path descended down the slope, and the short-legged furroids were unable to run quickly and simply rolled after them. As Tanti and his horse made progress, he noticed that the mountains on both sides of the canyon were closer than ever to each other. The trap was closing on them.

  The swarm of furroids moved silently. As they chased Tanti and his horse, their movements were soft and billowy. There were no footsteps or growls, no whining or snorting. Only Gayalo’s thundering hooves echoed in the canyon.

  As they ran for their lives, one of the furroids jumped on Tanti’s leg. Tanti jerked in horror and kicked out, a sharp scream escaping him. The creature panicked, let go of him, and fell to the ground. The echo of Tanti’s scream came back to him, multiplying and sounding louder. A volley of stones poured down from the top of the cliff.

  The furroids slowed down, trying to take cover from the avalanche of stones hitting them, as they were so crowded. Tanti noticed that, for the first time, he’d put some distance between him and his pursuers. As soon as things settled for a bit, the furroids gained speed.

  Tanti then realized that when he shouted, it affected them somehow. He yelled again and saw them retreat. Another volley of stones fell. Hope crept into his heart. He slowed Gayalo down, before the horse dropped from exhaustion. Tanti opened his mouth to shout. The furroids recoiled, waving their arms as though requesting that he stop shouting. He hollered one last time. Gayalo raised his head and whinnied as well. The voices mixed, colliding like balls pushed from one wall of the canyon to the other. One shout bred another, reverberating and growing louder, until they became one big cacophony.