A Taste of History Past

by Forrest Brant

  As they continued to work their way through this massive work, at what they guessed was approximately five hundred turns after these events, there was an obscure notation that only covered a few pages talking about the gods becoming active in the Sacred Mountains once again. Something about late in the Season of Falling that a deep rumbling of sound came from the mountains, and even though the gods had been silent for such a long time it appeared that now they were unhappy about something. This roaring continued off and on, throughout the following Season of Cold, and ended somewhere in the beginning of the Season of Greening. This had taken place at a time when the gods were beginning to fall out of favor with the people, but this incident brought them back into favor for a while. Just what could this incident have been? He wondered. He knew from asking that the extinct volcanoes had remained so, and even the storms that were common in those mountains had never produced such a sound. There had been no earth shakes to signal something was about to happen, just the deep sounds and that was all – so many mysteries and no answers. Was all of this just a story, a figment of someone’s overactive imagination, or was it the truth as his ancestors saw it?

  In his mind and with the discussions that he had with Jura, his mate, there just seemed to be a consistency that went beyond just primitive fears and imaginations. Yet how did one prove it? As he had thought about it before, in his past, there was no way that he wanted the learned ones to get this family treasure, and truly that was exactly what it was. Not in the sense of wealth, but it provided a consistent history of his family line back to the original leader of the alliance. As he kneaded the dough and prepared it for the second rising his thoughts continued to return to what he had read, studied and copied. With so much effort going into it he had almost memorized what was there. And at times it appeared that he, in his mind’s eye, was there right next to the unknown writer, observing, thinking, and writing those words down. At times it would distract him enough that he would come close to burning some of the breads or missing an ingredient. And as time continued to flow he found that the stories were beginning to possess him.

  In the mornings, as he would look into the reflecting glass, he kept telling himself that he was a baker, not a warrior or explorer, and there was no way that he could ever be one. Yet, his family history, for which he now had in his possession, said that he came from warrior stock. Although how that could be determined was beyond him. Since the carryings were random, and the sire of the child could have been any of the warrior class, so what was it that determined that he had descended from this K’jor? Besides, from what he had read, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to “breed” with the females, as it was called back then, because he wasn’t a warrior. Only they had the right. He thought that in some twisted way this made sense. The time of this K’jor was a very violent time, and there were tribes and clans that were being destroyed, wiped out all the time. So if one was to survive then strength, cunning, and great leadership all were necessary. And like the wild herds that they emulated, it was the strong that bred with the females producing the next generation.

  “You seem distracted this morn,” Jura commented, “I know you’ve become more so since you inherited that history of your family’s past. I have to admit that it is something to study and try and understand. But we’ve got our work to do, and it needs to remain in its place.” She smiled, reached out and grabbed his hands. “I’m quite happy to be living now instead of back then, especially since I’m a female. And the idea of being in one of those breeding herds and not even allowed a name – how horrible. And I suspect, since no one really bathed, it had to stink pretty badly. And since a female wasn’t allowed to clean up after being physical with a male, it had to be pretty ripe in the places where they lived.” She shuddered from some inner thought, shook it off before continuing. “Honestly, I’m surprised that any survived at all. But obviously some did because we’re here. And while it doesn’t say so directly, my guess would be that infant mortality and even female mortality had to be pretty high.”

  Silent as he absorbed what she had said Kal thought about it and smiled before speaking, “Leave it to a female to think about such things. But now that you mention it, you’re right it had to stink, let alone be unhealthy.”

  Laughing she said, “Of course I’m right. I’m female and we’re always right. Or haven’t you figured that out yet?”

  With a slight laugh he pointed over to where they kept that historical record and said, “Oh I don’t know about that. Maybe our ancestors had it right and you females needed to be put into herds just to keep you separate and wanting to control everything. I think, if I remember right, that when in the presence of a warrior you females were to remain silent.” He paused a moment with a devilish grin, “Maybe just maybe they had found a solution.” He could see that he had gotten the response he wanted and just laughed. “Look, in their time it was how both wanted it, and it must have worked, but I would never trade what we have for such a thing.”

  Somewhat mollified she responded, “Well, I hope not. And I don’t think any of you males could ever push us back into that type of life style. I want more out of life than just being a baby maker, with no hope of being anything else but a place for some male to leave his seed.”

  He could feel the humor rising in him again but decided not to throw another barb, even in fun, her way. Instead he said, “I can see that. And I guess that’s the way it really was. Females producing the next generation, taking care of them until a certain age where the males were separated and the females remained. I have to admit that it’s so much better this way. Look it’s almost time for me to head out, and soon you’ll have to also, we seemed to have drifted from what started this. Yes, this is beginning to consume me. I think it’s because of the way it’s stated in the narratives and the words of the different scribes over time. It is matter of fact, with little embellishments at all. Yes we can dismiss anything they wrote about the gods, but from their time and perspective these gods were as real as you or me. And yet our learned ones state that everything that we’ve read is fiction – myth. I don’t know about you, but this doesn’t read like fiction to me. I have the feeling that we didn’t get this by accident. And I’m beginning to feel a strong urge to prove what we’ve been studying. And before you ask, no I have no idea how. So much has changed since that time in our history. Most of the grasslands that they knew in their time are now farm land. We have villages, and townships everywhere, and land has been modified to make all of this work. So even the crude maps would be next to useless, yet …” He trailed off as once again he had that faraway look, shaking his head he said, “Darn, time to go – catch you at the mid-meal.” He got up went around the table hugged and kissed Jura with the response showing much promise for that mid-meal. “Darn! You make it hard to leave.”

  Laughing she said, “that’s not all that’s hard. Now get out of here and I’ll see you a little later.”

  * * *

  Kal could hear the rich deep voice of his mother as he worked in the bakery. She was in charge of the business and was very good at it. His father Pehel worked the other side of the business. He, with his helpers, would contact the farmers, contract for the grains they required, and then would pick up the harvest making a judgment call at the time to be sure that the grains met with the quality that they demanded. He had confided in him that it was one of the secrets to the quality of their goods. He remembered the excitement, in his youth, when he had been allowed to go with his father on one of those journeys. While exciting, yes, it had been hard work. And he found that at night, on this trip, he had no problem falling asleep, but had much difficulty in coming back to life in the mornings before the sunrise. He remembered huddling around the fires trying to shake off the morning chill that made him shiver. That hot drink both warmed his cold hands and his insides. It was his first introduction to the business side of his father. Kal learned that his father was well respected, and would drive a hard bargain, but would be fair
in his practices with any he dealt with. Kal remembered his father saying, “Kal, it is very important that you treat everybody with respect – especially if you want to have it reciprocated.” He would pause and then point out the fields of ripening grains stating, “Look at all of this. For this farmer it is what supports this land, himself, and his family, just as the bakery supports ours, and the many who work for us. We are not a big business, but it has supported many generations of the Kaygor family. And it is only by being respectful of the many that we can continue to survive, to grow, to be able to provide for ours.

  “It is easy for one to become too big for their britches, so to speak. And what I mean here is not when one eats too much, or as a child outgrows what they are wearing, but one who in their mind begins to believe that they are so much better than any around them. At that very moment they have doomed themselves. Yes, I know you’ve seen some of them go on that way all the way to the grave, but at what cost?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large coin and showed it to him, “Look these individuals with that mindset begin to pursue this and everything that once was important – oh like family and friends, and even trust and such – go by the wayside, and this is all they love and all they consider important. Everything is based on how they can get more, and nothing else has any interest unless it increases their coffers. Can this keep you warm at night in your bed, and before you answer, yes it can rent love for the night, but that’s all it is.

  “They can’t see the others who are shaking their heads behind their back, or the hate he’s created because he’s cheated someone out of something. And while he will have many who proclaim to be his friend, in the end, it is his coins, his coffers that they really are only interested in.” Again he stopped and pointed out the ones who worked for him, “It would be easy to cheat these, the ones who work for us, but what would that produce but ill will and grudging effort from them. They would only then be working for me for what I pay them, and there would be no loyalty, and I wouldn’t be able to trust them at all. Because they need the work they would stay, but if someone else offered them something better, they’d be gone before a syllable could escape my mouth.” Again he paused, stood up and swept his arms out saying, “Look its 1543TOG and there’s much happening in our world. It won’t be long and treks like I’m taking will be a thing of the past. I have seen machines that are just now arriving that will replace much of our beasts. I can see a time when these new machines will do most of the work for us allowing us to do much more with less. But that is in your future more than mine. But underlying all of this is that respect, that trust.” Sighing and taking a deep breath he continued, “Without that we’ll return to the ways of our distant ancestors and become a warring race once again, with all the suffering and death that goes with such a thing.”

  That conversation, well not really a conversation since he listened as his father spoke, had stayed with him had opened his eyes to much that he had never seen before. And with these new eyes he began to see the respect that not only the workers had for both of his parents, but it was the same with the suppliers, and even the community. And he began to see the others and that his father had spoken the truth, and at that point he had vowed to never be like them, even though again as a child, he had thought that having what these seemingly important members of the community had would have been a really great thing. Studying them he began to see how empty and hollow they and their lives really were, and could hear the horrible things being said about them behind their backs.

  He was a middle child with four older brothers, and three younger sisters, all working somewhere in the family business. But unlike other such enterprises, his parents did not expect any of their children to remain with the business if it was not something they were good at. They had pushed learning, and to find what each of them were good at, but at this moment he was quite satisfied working in the bakery. He already knew that one of his younger sisters was being trained to take over as she had shown a strong talent towards all aspects of the bakery. In a way it was truly funny that it should be this way – females running a business, when their ancestors had put so little value on them in the past. All he could do was shake his head at their unbelief in the value that a female could add to the community with their many skills and abilities. Enough of this dealing with past subjects, he could hear his mother calling him to some chore that needed to be done, and he knew that even though he was family, here it bought him nothing. When you worked here, there was always much to be done, and everybody including his mother worked at all aspects of the work, none were privileged because they just happened to have been born into the family of the owners of this business.

  Later when his time at the bakery was finished he headed over to the higher learning center. He wanted to talk with one of his favorite learned who happened to teach history. Sabohl had taken special interest in him when the learned one could see that Kal had a strong interest in the subject. And as the turns had passed by their friendship had grown. Now, carefully he would approach asking questions, and trying to start discussions that would hint at what he had learned from this ancient document that was both a secret and a personal history of their family. But so far Sabohl stayed with what he had taught. The history was exactly as he and the rest of the learned, the leaders in their field, said. He would say, quote, “From what has been found, what has been discovered, and the research that has been done on the fragments from that time of our past the conclusions that we, as a group, have made are accurate. Yes, yes, there have been some very small disagreements from ones who are not as we, and we laugh quietly and with a knowing smile, because they have no proof that would stand up. And besides we’ve been down that path before. We know that what we have within our group is as accurate as we can make it. These dissenting few aren’t worth our time. After all we know what we know, and so far there’s been nothing presented to change that.”

  It was one of the main reasons that he had never shown his learned friend this document. It would have blown large holes in much of what they were teaching, and what they believed of their ancient ancestors. So with the statements made he was sure that they and probably even his friend, to protect their high position and views, would make this document disappear. So carefully and quietly he would suggest something that he had learned from the text, or ask a general question, but so far he had gotten nowhere at all. But at this moment Sabohl was his only source to try, albeit on the sly, by asking if such and such a thing was possible, or if maybe this particular location had been discovered, or if there had been a digging on an ancient clan home. Unfortunately he had been frustrated by having to be so general. But at one point he got permission to visit one of those sites where they were uncovering the past. It was something that he had always wanted to do, but now had further reasons for doing so.

  With his mate and the rewriting and studying of the document he finally had decided that he was going to, at least, locate the clan’s home. It was a starting point, a place where these writings had originated. From there with the crude maps, ones that had been created towards the end of this ancient society, he was hoping to be able to search the areas with those ancient creations to follow the stories as they unfolded and to see with his own eyes the actual locations where it all had happened. And who knew, maybe find out the truth. Yet, he was beginning to understand, as he aged a bit, that the truth was not just the “black and white” of his childhood, but began to take on other shades, showing him that the truth could be many things, say different things, and be interpreted in so many ways. And a partial truth could really be a lie because all wasn’t presented, allowing the ones who presented this partial truth to say that it was the full truth, and not actually perpetuate a lie. Smiling inwardly, as they knew that by doing this they were manipulating the ones that this was directed at, and getting the results they expected. It had been so much simpler as a child. In the world of the adult nothing said was exactly as presented. There were always hidden meanings an
d innuendoes hidden within.

  So with these thoughts he was very, very careful on how he presented or asked anything. He had to think things out, and be careful of the questions that would be directed back to him. He must present to this learned one, that what he was asking or suggesting was only speculation on his part. And still being young and learning the ways of this world it was doubly difficult. He had been almost caught a couple of times, and only quick thinking or luck had saved him. And, if he truly thought about it, the ego of the learned one, who probably just considered it rubbish from someone who had the passion but not the discipline or turns of experience. But at this moment it was the only place that was close enough that he could ask. And eventually he got permission from Sabohl and his equals to visit a site that they were excavating, although most of the work had already been done. He being told, “It can be allowed, only because most of what we can find out from this site has been found out. So grudgingly they’ve allowed you permission to go, but with the admonition that you just observe and touch nothing. And yes, before you ask, you can ask them questions. I’ve already informed them that you pester me all the time with questions. Just understand that they do not have the patience that I do, so don’t weary them with too many.”

  So with a leave of absence from the bakery, and his mate at his side they had taken the journey to this hidden site – hidden because there were still ones who would loot such places, or would plant things to strengthen their point of view. Of course the learned one had to go with them otherwise they would not be allowed on site, and for the last part of the journey they would be placed inside an enclosed cart so that they could not locate the site once they had returned. And once they had arrived it was anticlimactic to say the least. He was disappointed that there appeared to have been so little that had survived the ravages of time. He even wondered how they had determined that this had been a place of clan occupation. But eventually he began to discern the small hints, depressions, and regular formations that were not from the natural world that surrounded them. It was hard to believe that an ancient people had lived here. But by having visited the site and learning what was allowed it gave him a way to ask questions that related directly to the document, but could be applied to the visited site. “Sir”, he always addressed Sabohl that way, “I’ve been wondering something.”