The Rise of Nazil

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  Brahanu’s tears begun anew, walking to the courtyard. Many times, she’d witnessed the carriages transporting the promised to their ceremonies. Now, the time was hers. Though she sat upon the cushioned seats surrounded by the Tumishi, it felt surreal. The divergent emotions churning inside her caused her breaths to come in short bursts. The fear, love, angst, joy, and completion all rushed through her mind at once. When the carriage halted in front of the temple, she couldn’t move.

  “Are you all right, little dove?” Hacom whispered.

  Taking another sobering breath, she nodded, accepting his offered hand.

  The Tumishi ascended the temple steps with the First holding a thurible filled with burning scents. The air was thick with the sweet smell as Brahanu intertwined her elbows with her father’s and brother’s.

  “Brahanu, Daughter of Cazaal and servant of the Seven, we leave you now to those of your house and the head of our temple. Blessed be the Seven,” the Tumishi said in unison.

  “Brahanu, the Tumishi have prepared you for your bonding,” Glennon said. “Is it your desire to continue and meet he who will be your husband?”

  “It is Nohek, by witness of the Seven.”

  “Then come and let us begin. Hacom, lead your family to the circle and we shall follow behind.”

  As Hacom ignited the candles in the entry way, the procession began. The kouxian’s tones resonated off the stone walls, heralding her arrival. Though led by the Tumishi, Brahanu barely noticed them. The ictus of her heart pulsed in rhythm with the tones as the realization of this day consumed her. When the procession halted, she looked up, meeting Itai’s eyes.

  An immediate warmth filled her then, and nothing else mattered in that moment. They stood beneath a flowered arch near the circle of unity, the sweet fragrance of flowers lightly perfuming the air.

  The Nohek’s march continued, reciting the traditional blessings and anointing them with the essence of the Seven. When their staffs struck the ground, the rhythmic pulse was as that of a heart, beating in perfect harmony.

  The Nohek concluded the anointing ceremony with a final clash of their staffs. Each bowed to Glennon, respectfully placing the middle finger of the right hand onto their foreheads.

  Glennon returned the gesture, rose, and motioned the guests to form a semi-circle around the couple, signifying family, guidance, and protection.

  Brahanu smiled, feeling Itai interlacing their fingers. She needed his touch, that comfort that only he could bring to her. For the first time since her return, Pentanimir didn’t enter her mind.

  Nohek Glennon plucked a kouxian seven times, beginning the ceremony.

  “Itai, son of Tioch, do you seek to enter into this sacred union?”

  “In the name of the Seven, I do,” Itai said, his usually deep voice lighter, cracking with every word.

  “Brahanu, daughter of Hacom, do you seek to enter into this sacred union?”

  “In the name of the Seven, I do.”

  The other Nohek stood, each positioning their staff within the circle as Glennon stretched his arms up, raising his eyes to the heavens. “Then step you both into the circle.”

  “With willingness of heart ye have entered the circle,” Glennon continued. “With this, ye declare your intent to be forever bound to each other. Here, before witness of the Seven and surrounded by the love of family and friends.”

  The Nohek rapped their staffs on the ground. “Blessings of the Seven be with you,” they said in unison, before returning to their places.

  Nohek Glennon laid seven golden ribbons upon the acacia altar, advancing toward the couple.

  “The promises sworn this day and the ties that shall be bound will strengthen this joining. I bid you join hands and face the other.

  “In the name of the God of Truth, will ye forever promise to speak true to each other and never false?”

  The couple answered: “I do promise in the name of the God of Truth.”

  Nohek Glennon took a ribbon from the altar, draping it over their hands. “And so the binding is made. In the name of the God of Protection, will ye promise to forever provide shelter from each other’s enemies?”

  “I so promise in the name of the God of Protection,” they responded.

  “And so the binding is made.” The second ribbon was then draped over their hands. “In the name of the God of Compassion, will ye promise to share each other’s pain and seek to ease it?”

  “I so promise in the name of the God of Compassion.”

  “And so the binding is made.” The third ribbon was then draped over their hands. “In the name of the God of Love, will ye promise to forever place the love of each other over that of any other?”

  “I so promise in the name of the God of Love.”

  “And so the binding is made.” Glennon draped the fourth and largest ribbon over their hands. “In the name of the God of Strength, will ye forever promise to provide support to each other not only in words, but also in deeds?”

  “I so promise in the name of the God of Strength.”

  “And so the binding is made.” The fifth ribbon was then draped over their hands. “In the name of the God of Mercy, will ye forever promise to offer forgiveness and grace to each other?”

  “I so promise in the name of the God of Mercy.”

  “And so the binding is made.” The sixth ribbon was draped over their hands. “In the name of the God of Judgement, will ye promise to not pass judgment on each other, but allow only the gods this power?”

  “I do so promise in the name of the God of Judgment,” they offered.

  “And so the binding is made.”

  After draping the seventh ribbon, Nohek Glennon clasped them together, raising their hands. Behind him, the Nohek struck the ground seven times with their staffs.

  “The knots of this binding aren’t formed by these chords, but instead by your promises made unto each other,” Glennon said, tying the ribbons around their hands.

  “The Seven and all gathered here have heard the promises of this sacred union. You are yet two persons, but there’s only one life before you.” Nohek Glennon slid the ribbons from their hands, lifting them high for all to see.

  “Itai Gael, you may now unveil she who is your wife.”

  Itai leaned, lifting up her maiden veil.

  Still holding the ribbons, Glennon continued. “In the name of the Seven, I bless this union. May beauty surround you both in your journey ahead. Itai and Brahanu Gael are now made one. Blessed be the Seven!”

  As he finished, the Nohek rose, striking their staffs to the ground as the guests cheered, shouting their blessings. Brahanu and Itai turned to face them, both filled with emotion. He lifted her from the ground, softly kissing her lips. “I love you, my wife,” Itai said, kissing her again.

  “And I love you, husband.”

  Turning Point

  “Please heed my words, Zeta,” Danimore said. “Don’t mention anything to anyone.”

  “I won’t, but I thought only Gali was coming.”

  “She is, but you never know who might make our business theirs in our absence.”

  “I understand, Dani, I promise.”

  “Pardons, Brother, it’s time to go,” Pentanimir said. “The others will be waiting.”

  “Take care while we are away, Zeta,” Danimore said, leaning down to kiss her. “Rest well. I’ll think of you constantly.”

  “I’ll be thinking of you, too.”

  “Heed his words, Zeta. Secure the door and rest,” Pentanimir said. “We’ll try to return swiftly.”

  “I will, Pentanimir. Take care of him for me.”

  He smiled, nodding as they exited. When they mounted their horses, he turned, regarding Danimore.

  “Pray everything will be well, Dani. I feel it, too.”

  “I’ve always wanted an assignment like this, but now, I wish that he’d selected another. Did you see her face? She still isn’t well.”

  “I did. I’m glad that Gali will be checki
ng on her. She’ll be all right. You must believe that.”

  “Danimore, Pentanimir,” a voice called out from behind them.

  “Nurhan, Velnic, Elodie. Come to see us off?” Pentanimir said.

  “In a manner,” Velnic said. “Your uncle told us you were leaving this morning. What do you think you’ll find beyond the trees?”

  “We won’t know until we do,” Pentanimir said. “That’s why we’re traveling: to learn what lies beyond.”

  “Do you fear what might dwell in the mountains?” Nurhan asked.

  “My brother fears nothing,” Danimore proclaimed, proudly.

  Elodie scoffed. “Only a fool has no fear, old friend.”

  “This is true,” Pentanimir said. “However, I don’t fear the unknown. I’m intrigued by the stories of old. Mayhaps we can befriend those who dwell in the mountains and bring them home for a meal,” Pentanimir laughed, as the others joined his mirth.

  “Be safe, my friends, and stay aware,” Velnic said. “We hear tell that Beilzen accompanies you. You need to watch your tongue around that one.”

  “He’d better watch his own.”

  “Indeed,” Danimore said. “Either watch it or have it ripped from his lying mouth.”

  Pentanimir nodded. “We must go, thank you for seeing us off.”

  “Honor above all!” Elodie shouted as the brothers rode away.

  They trotted through the town center, heading toward the stables behind the citadel. Friends and neighbors greeted them as they sat atop their massive destriers. The market was already in full swing: traders hawking their wares, slaves shopping for their masters, and even a few beggars looking for a morning meal. Pentanimir tossed a few coins to them as he passed.

  The temple was beautiful against the sunrise. The grey stone bearded with moss was the perfect backdrop for the flowering bushes and cobbled paths. As they admired the regal figures featured at its edges, they noticed Oxilon speaking with the Cha Asham on the marble steps. Oxilon’s half smile seemed forced as he nodded in their direction.

  “Uncle gives me pause, Brother. He opposes Zeta’s placement more than any other.”

  “Keep your place, Dani. He baits you with purpose.”

  “Are you saying that I’m wrong to suspect him? He’s set Beilzen to task against us.”

  “You’re not wrong, but you shouldn’t allow your suspicion to be so obvious. Uncle has always been this way, even with Father. He could never rise as high as his brother, and he resented it,” Pentanimir said. “He sees himself in you, Dani: not due to anything you or I have done. He brings his feelings of inadequacy and lays them at our feet. This pledge to Denotra is a way for him to rise. He does this not for me; he does it for himself.”

  “Do you think I’m inadequate?”

  “Dani, you know I don’t think about you that way. All these years Uncle has tried to divide us, and he’s finally realized that it can’t be done. So, he attempts to belittle you and drive you away from Nazil.”

  “He might get his wish when my duty is done.”

  “What do you mean? Are you planning to leave the city?”

  “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it. Zeta will give birth soon, and I’ve been thinking of relocating to Mahlum, Kumasi, or Lempol. No one really knows me there. Mayhaps Zeta and I could find some peace away from Uncle and Nazil.

  “You’d leave our home to be with Zeta?” Pentanimir asked.

  “I would. You’re soon to wed Lady Denotra, and might rule Nazil someday. I have only our name. I need to make a life for myself and Zeta. I can’t do that here in Nazil.”

  “But you’ll face the same obstacles wherever you might go. She’s still human, Dani. You can’t wed her openly, and she could only be presented as your servant.”

  “Don’t call her that. Zeta’s no one’s servant.”

  “Dani, you know what I mean. That’s the only way she could be presented to the populace.”

  “I know, and it’s wrong. I hold no real title other than lord, and no position other than guard. Why can’t I be with whom I choose? Do you deny the logic in my choice?”

  “No, I only question its efficacy in the lands in which we live. Dani, we’re Nazilians and humans are lesser than we. That’s what you face no matter where you go.”

  “You don’t understand how I feel about her. It’s not wrong, our ways are.”

  Pentanimir’s thoughts turned to Brahanu, knowing exactly how his brother felt. He prayed the gods would bring them together again soon.

  “Dani, I do understand your feelings. You’re blessed to have Zeta with you. You’re able to see her, hold her, and make love to her. I have only memories of such joy. I’m pledged to Denotra, and she’s a vile creature. The one who owns my heart will forever have it, and I’ll be without her always.”

  “Why don’t you ever talk about her?”

  “To do so would cause a greater pain than I now feel. I miss her, Dani, and I’ll never love another.”

  “I’m sorry. I think only of myself and not what you’ve lost.”

  “It’s all right. We’ll find a way for the both of us,” he said, spurring his mount back into a trot. “We’ll speak of this no more. Nakaris approaches.”

  “Good morning,” Nakaris said as they handed off their horses.

  “Good morning, Nakaris,” Pentanimir said. “I hope we haven’t kept you waiting.”

  “No, we’ve just arrived ourselves,” he said, leaning in. “Beilzen’s lurking around in there.”

  Danimore nodded. “Have all of the supplies been loaded?”

  “The stable workers are preparing what we need, and Draizeyn sent a barrel of sweet red.” Nakaris smiled. “I’m sure it’ll warm us well during the coming cold nights.”

  Beilzen took a deep breath, stepping around the corner. “Yes, but there are more pleasurable things that could provide such warmth. Don’t you agree, Danimore?”

  “Aye, Beilzen. There are many. I’ve brought some with me: mulled wine, warm blankets, and thick skins. These are the items that you’re speaking of, are they not?”

  Beilzen’s eyes narrowed, biting back his retort. With clenched fist, he turned, accosting the nearest slave who was loading carts.

  “You fool!” Beilzen shouted, jabbing the man in the ribs. The man barely flinched, and Beilzen swung again, hitting him harder. The man lowered to one knee then, glaring at Beilzen from the corner of his eye. When Beilzen raised his sword again, Pentanimir grabbed his arm.

  “Stay your hand, Beilzen! Have you lost your wits?”

  “My wits are intact, First Chosen. The slave isn’t doing what he was commanded. How are we supposed to lay stakes if he’s putting them at the head of the cart and not the rear? He’s incompetent and deserves redirection.”

  Pentanimir looked over at the massive man kneeling on the ground. Even on one knee, he was nearly as tall as Beilzen. With his massive bulk and muscle, he could probably crush the fool with merely one hand. Pentanimir’s head cocked, noticing the man’s swarthy complexion, facial art, and his bare head with a single braid draped over his shoulder. He pictured Kuhani then, and he knew there was something exceptional about this man.

  “For this you extend punishment?” Pentanimir said, peering inside the cart. “If you had the height to see, he’s loading stakes along the sides of the cart. Everyone here can reach them.” Pentanimir looked the squat man up and down. “Well, mayhaps not you.”

  Pentanimir turned back to the man, extending out his hand. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m called Symeon, Sir, of the Jasiri.”

  “Jasiri?” he said, recalling the name, but not the significance. His accent was familiar, too.

  As Symeon rose to his full four and a half cubit height, Pentanimir took a step back.

  Symeon? he thought, by the gods, Zeta. He swallowed hard, picturing Symeon being forced to abuse the tiny woman. He could only shake his head, desperately trying to remove the painful image from his mind.

  “Sym—Sy
meon, of the Jasiri,” he stammered. “I’m in charge of this journey and these men. You’ve committed no wrong and are loading just as I would’ve done. Please continue, we’ll need to leave soon.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Beilzen, my uncle appointed you to this detail, but I have the final say,” Pentanimir said. “If you can’t conduct yourself as an honorable guard of Nazil, we have no need of you.”

  “Pardon, First Chosen, but I am conducting myself as a guard of Nazil. The slaves do as they’re ordered. If they stray from their instruction, redirection is warranted.”

  “Do as you choose to those serving your home. You’ll not do so here. Symeon is the Zaxson’s attendant. As such, he alone may order redirection or those he has granted that authority. It’s not for you to assign punishment to anyone. Are we clear, son of Perrin?”

  “We’re clear,” he sneered.

  “Pardons, Sir, the cart is loaded,” Symeon said.

  When Pentanimir turned to inspect the load, Draizeyn, Denotra, and their guard were approaching the stables. What are they about?

  “Honorable Zaxson and my beautiful Lady Denotra.” He bowed. “To what do we owe this honor?”

  “My daughter wanted to see you off, Pentanimir, and I wished to discover for myself if all the preparations were in order.”

  “You have provided much, Zaxson, and the workers have done exceptionally well. We also offer our profound gratitude for the barrel of sweet red.”

  “The nights can grow cold near the mountains. I expect a full report, First Chosen. The patrols you’ve led didn’t venture far into the wood. This assignment will be different. Make good use of the light the gods provide.”

  “As you say, Zaxson.”

  “Walk with me, Pentanimir,” Denotra said. “I’d like a moment in private.”

  “What would you have of me, my lady?”

  “Of that, you know,” she grinned. “I’ll miss you and your touch while you’re away. You’ve awakened something in me.” She paused, moving closer. “Something that needs to be fed.”

  “It’s a hunger that we share,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips.

  “I don’t even get to kiss you?”