A Most Unusual Festival
Chief Dorien had arrived at the Festival site for the opening rites early in the morning. It was past the lunch meal and Chief Teppo was asking in his taunting manner for the sixth time, “So where is this wandering peddler of yours, who sends giants made of metal to steal away all of your virgins?” the young chief chuckled at his own wit. Chief Dorien didn’t try to correct his wild recounting of the tale. Chief Teppo was a fairly young man who had a rather high opinion of himself. This form of mockery was his way of trying to always outshine his rivals. Chief Dorien let his urge to become angry subside, for unless he was very much mistaken, Chief Teppo was about to have a very long couple of days.
“In a hurry to meet them, are you, Chief Teppo? Little Elena says that they have made their home far away. Be patient. Perhaps they will come and buy up your entire village from you. What would you do then?” Dorien couldn’t help but give the incredulous Teppo a small sly grin.
Teppo snorted. “Our village would not be so cheaply bought. Though I must say, I would like a fine cloak like yours for myself. If they do not show, how many sheep would it cost me?”
Dorien was just about to say that Teppo didn’t own enough sheep when he saw the small hand cart appear in a gap between the bushes at the edge of the clearing. With a calm smile, he just pointed. “No need, you can bargain with them yourself. That is their wagon that approaches now.” He pointed off to the little hand cart he has seen on their last trade stop to his village. They had put on a strange new canopy since then. He squinted, uncertain how exactly they supported the deerskins that were covering the wagon. Surely the wagon could not be that full of goods. If it were, how could they possibly move it?
Dorien could hear Teppo’s voice catch with surprise as he saw the strange appearance of the little handcart, but not to concede the point Chief Teppo’s sneering voice began, “And yet I don’t see the metal gia...”
Dorien grinned openly, as did several others, as the word seemed to simply catch in his throat. For becoming visible now from behind the wagon was the slightly larger than six foot form of Commander Davidson, and the even larger and more stout form of Dr. Godfreed. They had freshly polished both suits of armor for this event. No, it wasn’t anywhere near a mirror, but the simple expedient of beach sand and olive oil and some elbow grease left it hard to look directly at in the bright midday sun. Dorien also couldn’t help but notice that standing directly between the two large men was tiny Elena. She scanned the festival grounds, selected a spot, and then pointed at it. The two large men didn’t seem to debate more than seconds. The two boys who had been pulling it moved the wagon in place and staked firmly in place. A young man not wearing armor took from the wagon long poles. He then went about using a metal rod the size of a walking stick to create holes in the ground to sink them into.
Dorien looked over to Teppo, Dorien who had thought himself accustomed to the stranger’s abundance of wealth was taken aback by using a solid metal digging stick, but Teppo seemed about to experience a gibbering fit. After three years of festivals with him since Teppo had risen to chief, Dorien had learned to overlook the posturing and grandstanding. This moment, however, he found highly rewarding. They removed furniture from the wagon before the poles were even all in place and the men in the heavy armor we able to finally sit. Elena and some woman Dorien had never seen before poured cooling water over the two men, and shortly thereafter the leather cover from the wagon was suspended from the newly erected poles to provide an area of shade.
Teppo seemed to finally have recovered his power of speech. “They seem quite efficient. You say they are just merchants? Not Nobles or Magi?”
Dorien snorted. Funny how less that five minutes had changed the tone of the questions. “They said that they were merchants, or at least that was the best we could understand. They don’t have command of our language, nor we of theirs. Their customs also seem to be different as well, though in exactly what ways, I couldn’t say. Only that in our first meeting I fear that I somehow offended their chief. He has only spoken to me through Elena since.”
Teppo sighed. “I’ve never seen this much metal used outside of the large costal city and even then it’s always bronze. I’m not even sure what you call this, it’s the wrong color.”
Dorien chuckled, “yeah, it holds an edge longer, and it can be used to cut bronze. I used one of the new knives to put a big cut line on the back of one of my buttons and barely even dulled the knife.” Teppo looked at him in shock, but Dorien just nodded. “It’s all true. Whoever these strangers are, they are more powerful than we’ve seen so far.”
Dorien was only half listening to Teppo making arguments as to why they couldn’t be as powerful as all that when he saw what he had been waiting for. Elena broke off from the others, trailed only by the young boy. She was headed to the festival’s main office. She would be looking to get an advance on one of their items, enough that they have operating funds while they were here. Not even responding to Teppo, Dorien strode off to meet her there. Teppo called out, “But they’re that way!” He came tagging along after Dorien almost at a jog.
“Yes, but Elena is this way, and she can arrange a time for us to meet them.” Dorien sighed.
Teppo snorted and spluttered, “You want US to make an appointment to see THEM?”
Dorien rounded on the young chief and for the first time since meeting the young man, didn’t bother to consider the other man’s need for pride or respect, but hit him with all the brutal honesty he could muster, “Yes you arrogant, ignorant, man-child! We are going to approach them like civilized people. We are even going to lower our dignity to approach them from a position of respect! Because those people can help our people!” his voice hissed in nothing near a whisper. Besides, if their treatment of Elena and the other young women from the village are any indication of how they treat those even most within their power, YOU witnessed it with your OWN EYES not even five minutes ago, were they not happy, healthy, and wearing more wealth than you or I? Even if we were to end up in their power, we would not be the worse for it. So alert your pet mage. Whether I am hosting them, or they us... You have dinner plans as soon as I can arrange it.”
He didn’t wait for Teppo to respond. He simply turned aside into the Festival Office’s main tent. Seeking out the chief organizer. He wanted to make certain that Elena had no difficulties in arranging the needed advance.
New Experiences
Different from my memories
Elena looked at the vast bag of clay festival tokens in her hands. Even last year at Festival, if she had dreamed that she would ever hold this many at once, but no, that wouldn’t even have entered her mind. Most years her father had given her two and in good years, her mother had slipped her an extra one as their little secret. When she got back to camp, she was able to give each of the primary members forty of the festival tokens. They each took them and looked at them, not exactly sure what they were, though Eli just divided them up among the girls and gave each of them five. Elena couldn’t help but smile, she barely restrained the squeal herself. She understood what the girls were feeling. This was more than any of them had ever had at one time before. It was a bit overwhelming. After all, three of them would buy a yearling lamb. Still, she got their attention and made sure that they knew their duties before she took off. She knew that the next two days would be busy for her and she wouldn’t get to play as much as she used to, but she still hoped to find some time to show Eli the festival. It was always so much fun when she was little.
So after making certain one last time that Sapphira understood what to do about Eli, and that the other girls understood to obey Sapphira. Elena gave Eli one last long lingering kiss that actually drew good natured cheers from some of the locals, causing Eli to redden just a bit, before she made her way to the back of the wagon where there were already a group of middle-aged men gathered and the Roth brothers were casually standing guard with their crossbows at the ready.
Thi
s isn’t shopping
About the second trip through, Eli realized he was on a schedule. One of the ladies would arrive with something for him to drink. Then she would drag him through the various little shops and booths for about a half an hour, before getting him back to the tent so he could rest for a half an hour, before the next of his lovelies would arrive and the whole process would begin again.
On his third trip through, he realized that something was off. Girls here didn’t shop like girls on earth. There were at least twenty little shops in this Festival and it wasn’t physically possible that his wife, daughter, or even granddaughter could have made it through all twenty of these shops, getting him back to the tent in time to rest. The ladies had helped him on with the armor, so they all understood its weight and were protective of him because of it. He had explained to them the dangers of not getting enough water, which is why they were always bringing him something to drink. He noticed that they were always giving a mug to Dr. Stone too, so she could take it to Godfreed. Still, that didn’t explain how they could violate the laws of physics and pass a woman through twenty shops in under a half an hour. What is more puzzling, no larger than this place is. Whenever he was out with one of them, they never ran into the others except back at the tent.
His fourth trip was with Phoebe, and it dawned on him. Maybe it was because Phoebe was the most naturally aggressive of his ladies, or maybe he just finally realized that if something couldn’t be a thing, then maybe it isn’t. He looked down at the tiny, dark beauty possessively clinging to his side. “This isn’t shopping.” He just said it, it wasn’t a question. “This is your victory march. This is each of you girls taking your turn to show off your trophy.”
Pheobe looked up at him with a nearly feral, savage smile. “You see that fat pig there? The one with the red hair and the black eye?” Eli saw an attractive young woman who looked to be just a couple of years older than Pheobe, and for a moment he was afraid that she may have gotten that black eye from Pheobe earlier that day. Before he could ask Pheobe continued, “Two Festivals ago, she married to friend of a cousin. I like him much. He nice to me, but she says no one can love me. She says I too ugly. Skin dark like the inside of a chamber pot, and family so poor, they no can pay someone marry me.” Even through the armor Eli could feel Pheobe shaking with rage at the memory. “My cousin says she had laughed I sell me you, but her husband gives bruises and master gives me crown!” The elation in her voice was so real Eli felt himself wanting to choke up . “Her husband gives pain, and master, um, makes me curl toe?” she asked.
Eli barked a loud laugh, “Yes, yes indeed my dear you do indeed make my toes curl.”
Phoebe nodded fiercely. “Yes, I will. Any time! I love you much!”
Eli smiled at her, “I love you much too.” He winked at her.
She led him into the next little shop. “Other girls too. Victory march yes. Talk English ok, understand better. Talk baby SOON.”
Eli choked and had a small coughing fit. “Ok, soon, but not here and not in public.”
Phoebe, just nodded, “No now, soon.” and then waved to everyone else saying something to them in Greek that was completely lost on Eli. His mind was completely racing on other topics now.
Justice and Mercy
John was wondering about the festival seeing the sights. He was tempted to enter a couple of the competitions but got distracted by a couple of boys about twelve or thirteen. They had slipped up on a group of older boys who were distracted by a group of girls. The two younger boys coated one of the older boys with a bucket of fresh tar and then ran off laughing as the older boy gave chase.
John wanted to know where they got the tar from. He knew that tar had a multitude of uses, and he couldn’t imagine that these two would spend money on the prank they just pulled, so they had to be finding it somewhere. If he could figure out where, Davidson or maybe the Roths could certainly figure out how to put that to good use. So he tailed the pair. Once they’d given the older boy the slip, John crept up on their hiding spot and gave them a good fright.
They looked angry but seemed to calm down once he started asking them about the tar. He could only mime it, and it took them a bit to understand that he wanted them to show him where they got it from. They talked back and forth, the older one seeming to try to convince the younger of something for a bit. Then finally he put on a big smile and motioned John to follow them. It actually was actually only a short walk to the tar pits. They were in a depression in the ground so he could have walked past it a dozen times and never realize it was there.
There was enough raw asphalt to handle projects on the island for the rest of his life. No guessing about it. This was a big find. John was about to turn and offer some of the tokens as payment for playing guide when he felt the hand on his left arm ease up just ever so slightly so that it could shift down to inch closer to the blade at his belt. The boys who had him were stronger, and there were two of them. Struggle as he might, there was no breaking free of this by simple brute strength. The situation became even less of a game when the younger of the two actually drew his knife from its sheath. John gave a long, exasperated sigh. He had been trying not to hurt these boys up to this point, but from his point of view, shit just got real. His father had always told him it was just boys being boys until someone pulled a knife or a gun, and then man decisions were being made and man consequences had to be accepted. John handed out the first of those consequences at that moment. Lashing out to the side violently with his foot, he savagely opened up the leg of the boy, holding the knife with the climbing spikes on his boot. The boy let out a loud cry of pain and released his arm as he stumbled back, still clinging to the knife. His shocked companion was slow to react, and John used his newly freed hand to draw one of his hidden throwing knives and open a long shallow cut from the bottom of the boy’s stomach to just below his throat. The boy squealed in panic and fear. Both boys now in a dead run back to the Festival grounds with John St. Claire in full pursuit as fast as his much shorter legs would allow. As the boys had just hit the edge of the crowd, John, who had taken out his bolo and started it in motion, released it at the boy in the back with the large cut on his chest. John never missed a step, nor did he slow as the boy fell, but ran past him after the younger boy who had his knife. Two of the men in the clearing had stopped the younger boy.
Seeing all the blood on the boy, and seeing the angry child behind him and the bleeding boy behind the child, they were confused. Catching his breath, John stood up straight and pointed to the knife still clutched, forgotten in the boy’s hand, “I just want my knife back.”
The men looked down and actually seeing the knife for the first time, realization dawning on them. The boy also looked at the hand clutching the knife as if seeing it for the first time and threw it from him as if it were a poisonous snake. But it was too late. Everyone had seen, and everyone had realized what was going on. The two men took hold of the now wailing boy. Two more men took hold of the fallen boy, who was beginning to wail as well. One of the older men picked up the fallen knife. He didn’t offer it to John, but he did gesture that John should follow them. The men moved toward the tent that was used as the main business office for the festival. John followed. It seemed the whole of the Festival was heading that way. Commander Davidson was approaching with Melena on his arm and a concerned look on his face. John shook his head, “Long story sir, but the jist of it is, two bigger boys thought that they could jump me and take my knife. It didn’t go well for them. I, uh, think we’re going to see the judge or something.”
Davidson frowned and whispered something to Melina. She nodded gravely and went over to stand by John’s side. “I make your talk for you.” A part of John’s mind couldn’t help cringing at the thought of a lawyer with only broken English, but he was mostly just grateful to have a native keeping an eye on things. Davidson had disappeared. John wasn’t worried, he knew the Commander was just rallying troops if he needed to make a point with some authority
he would rather do it from a position of strength.
The “trial” was a rather quick affair. Both chiefs looked grave. The boys cried and blathered. John could tell by the look on the faces of the crowd that whatever they were selling, no one was buying. The chiefs conferred for only moments before they both nodded, and the younger chief pronounced the boys’ fate. Both boys let out a wail of despair. John looked at Melina. “What will happen?”
Melina looked at him and with no pity in her eyes she said, “They die” and she put her hands around her neck to show she was choking.
“They’re going to hang them!” John shouted. His high-pitched child’s voice not carrying the incredulity that his heart felt.
“Hang?” Melina made a confused face.
John made the traditional mime of the hanging man, and Melina’s eyes got wide and she nodded yes. “Oh, hell no!” John said as he started moving forward.
Melina put a hand on his tiny chest. She could feel his heart beating fast. She gathered her thoughts, “Is... uh.. must take a bath. Not take stranger to home.” John could tell she was struggling with the word.
“The rule? The law?” he provided.
Again she nodded rapidly, “Yes, the law.”
This time John nodded, too. Then he pushed her hand gently aside and pushed his way to the front of those gathered. In a loud voice he said “Excuse me” The dull roar of the room was silent now, and all eyes were upon this child in their midsts. He pointed to the two boys who hadn’t yet been hauled away, “Don’t hang them.” he said this and mimed hanging and shook his head in negation. “Give them to me.” again he pointed at them and pulled his hand toward himself as if taking them, then reached in his pouch and offered the two chiefs the last four Festival tokens he had left as payment. He was prepared to up the payment if need be, but he had nothing more on him. He just looked at them with a steady gaze and waited for their response.
World Wright Incorporated (World Wright Inc. Book 1) Page 8