by Sam Puma
Jankaro wanted to share Orion’s excitement, but the thought of seeing the Juruga spit at him made him shudder.
“How about you sit back and relax,” said Orion. “Some sheep lost their lives to stray arrows last night. Today we feast upon their flesh, sprinkled with herbs and spices and roasted over hot coals. Here,” he reached up and pulled a chunk of meat off a platter. “Try it.”
Jankaro sat and ate the meat, savoring the flavor. It soothed him like the sun on his skin, and he was glad to share it with a friend.
“You see down there?” Orion pointed to the dancers. “The one on the left, she’s my wife. The one on the right, that’s Lucinda. You might get to meet her later tonight.”
Orion winked. The beauty of the women pleased Jankaro’s eyes, but he was haunted by the night before.
“Some of us died?”
“Four. But we killed thousands of them. Our most decisive victory ever. They are not as smart as us, but next time they come, they will bring bridges to get over the wall. But at least we have that yanigo armor now. I’m going to wear it on my leg!” Orion knocked on his wooden leg and smiled at Jankaro.
“But come on. Don’t dwell on last night. Forget it ever happened. Just be grateful we made it through and we are here to enjoy today.” He swept his hand slowly across the vista of people celebrating life under the sun. “We thank our brethren for the sacrifice they made, so that we might live.” He bit into some meat and chewed. After a moment, he continued. “We honor their spirits with this celebration, as they linger here a little while longer before they depart from this plane of existence. An old friend from Dorfin died last night. Hebrun was his name. May his journey to the beyond be blessed with great abundance. That is what we say in Dorfin, for we believe that he is still here, floating above us as a disembodied spirit in the first few days after his death. We honor him during this time as he passes to the other side.
“Oronas honored them in ceremony this morning. Their ashes burned on a pyre while we slept with our herbs. At the same time, the Cruxai bodies were gathered and tossed into the ravine, into the river, to be washed out into the sea. The entire front courtyard was washed with water and then washed again by flower water by Anhael and his helpers, to wash away the battle and clean the city. The fallen soldiers were taken to the central square and cremated there. Their ashes adorn the temple, there.” Orion pointed up and to the left and there was an altar adorned with a statue of a ram and several other sacred items. “See the urns? They hold the ashes of the four soldiers who had died.”
“So what happens next? They will attack again?”
“Yes.” Orion glared into Jankaro’s eyes and furrowed his brow. “Put it out of your mind, my friend. Be here, in this moment, here with us. Celebrate the life that we share together.”
Jankaro was taken aback by his words. He stared down at the dancers and watched them swivel their hips. There was a wild flourish as the song came to a close with a rapid of pounding drums.
Orion’s wife came and kissed him, and he complimented her on her dance moves. Then he introduced her to Jankaro. “My wife, Briana.”
“Stay close to him,” she said. “He never forgets that you saved him from death, so that he could come see me and his children again. After every battle he thanks the gods that you came into his life when you did.”
A horn sounded, and a man in the arena shouted to the hushed crowd. “Our next challenger is Darius! The record is 53 beats. Can he beat it?!” A man emerged on the arena floor with a wooden staff in his hands, clad in plain clothes. The announcer walked to the edge of the arena, grabbed hold of a rope, and was lifted out. The challenger stood in the arena alone with his staff.
“How many beats can he last?”
The drummers started to pound on their drums from the safety of the stone benches above.
“Ready. One. Two. Three. Go!” The announcer cried out loud from the benches.
A large gate opened on the west side of the arena. It was the same gate they had used to release the Juruga to test Jankaro’s armor. From the shadows, an Ashtari came racing out toward the young man.
Jankaro leapt to his feet and started down towards the arena. “Easy now,” said his friend.
Orion put his hand firmly on his shoulder and bade him sit down. “We had a long night. This entertainment is a gift for us. Sit back and relax, and just watch.” Jankaro sat back down and watched as the Ashtari chased the youth around the arena, swatting at him with its paws and trying to pounce on him while he tumbled and dodged and held him off with the staff.
The announcer counted off the drumbeats. “Forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two.” The struggle was becoming more difficult as the Ashtari wore the young man down, drawing blood on his shoulder with his claws, then knocking the staff away. It looked like it was about to end horribly, but the youth suddenly grabbed a rope hanging down from the wall and was lifted out of the arena, out of harm’s way.
“Fifty-eight beats! We have a new leader!” The announcer lifted the youth’s arm into the air as the Ashtari reared up on its hind legs and swatted up at the wall. Twenty soldiers carrying spears and ropes and clad with armor descended, corralled the Ashtari, and herded him back behind the gate.
Jankaro turned to Orion. “In Olaya, I saw one just like that. He chased me.”
“You and an Ashtari, one on one? Sounds like it could have ended badly. But here you are. How did you escape?”
“I fell into a hole in the ground. He reached down into the hole but he couldn’t reach me.”
“Did he wait for you? How did you get back out?”
The question made Jankaro uncomfortable. He didn’t want to offer the whole truth. “It wasn’t just a pit, it was an underground space, with many caves. I wandered until I found my way out.”
“Look!” Briana grabbed Orion’s arm and pointed up at a red and blue figure hovering above the arena.
“What is that?!” Jankaro was relieved that the attention was off him. He looked up at what looked like a giant scarlet macaw with its wings extended. He squinted and saw a human face amidst the feathers. A thin rope, stretched tight, extended from the top of the arena, all the way across to the other side. She balanced on the rope with her arms outstretched while scattered gasps rippled through the crowd and children cried out in wonder.
He could see that she was human, clad in an elaborate costume. But the way she wore her feathers and spread her wings cast her in the image of the macaw. She began to flap her enormous wings and slowly descend toward the arena floor. He forgot all about his conversation with Orion and the battle as he watched her. He had to squint to see the thin threads that held her floating in the air, and if he relaxed his eyes she seemed to fly of her own volition, flapping her giant wings to remain suspended.
While she descended, 12 real scarlet macaws flew into the arena from all directions while the audience exclaimed their surprise and delight. One of them flew right over Jankaro’s head. “Never seen one so close!” He said to himself. He couldn’t help but smile.
The macaws all gathered close to the woman and flew in circles around her. She touched the ground and held her wings out wide. In unison, the macaws landed on her wings, six on each side. She paused and looked up at the crowd as the musicians struck up a frolicking tune.
She flapped her wings and the macaws all flew into the air above her, flying in a circle above her head, then returning to their perches on her wings. She flicked one wing from the tip back to her shoulder, and the other wing from the shoulder to the tip. One by one, the macaws hopped up and back down as the part of the wing on which they were perched lifted. They were all at her command. Jankaro’s heart danced as he watched, and he wanted to be one of the birds flying around with her.
She stalked and danced like the queen of the birds making a show of her glorious beauty. She smiled at the children. She twirled, leaped, kic
ked and flipped, and all the while the macaws accented her moves with synchronized flights and formations. The drummers rocked and grinned as they pounded with their hands. The flutes and stringed instruments came together in a rich and textured harmony. The sun shone bright and all the people were happy. Oranos wore a look of tremendous pride. Even Titus looked calm and soothed as he sat nearby with his father and brother and watched the macaw woman’s dance.
She bent her knees, spread her wings and leaped into the air, flying above the crowd with help of the almost invisible strands that extended from her hips to the top of the arena. The macaws trailed behind her in a triangular formation. The children giggled and tried to reach up and touch her. She reached the upper wall of the arena and perched there. Then she dove outwards and flew to the other side as the macaws made spiraling patterns around her. She perched, then walked out onto the strand, dancing and twirling as the birds mimicked her moves.
She rolled and tumbled on the high wire, stopping on a dime, spreading her wings and tipping up her chin to show off her balance. She finished with a flurry of flips and cartwheels, while the macaws trailed in single file behind her, creating a rapidly spinning wheel, spiraling bright colors in the sky. She spread her wings and slowly lowered herself down to the ground while the macaws flew over the crowd, twirling and flipping and playfully perching on heads and shoulders. One of them landed on Orion’s wooden leg and tapped a rhythm with its beak before launching itself back into the air.
When the macaw woman reached the ground, she offered an elaborate bow to the audience, and everyone cheered her enthusiastically. When she looked up from her bow, Titus was there at the wall. He tossed a large bundle of bright flowers down to her. She caught it and blew him a kiss. The birds made a few more circles and flew from the arena in the directions from which they had come. The macaw woman flew up to the upper wall of the arena, bowed to the adoring audience once more, and disappeared from view. The musicians continued their tune and everyone was smiling and laughing, simmering in the afterglow of the amazing performance they had just witnessed.
When the announcer reclaimed the arena floor, Jankaro’s attention piqued at the chance to see the Ashtari again. This time he was determined to get a closer look.
On his way to the arena floor, Rafael tried to stop him. He grabbed Jankaro by the shoulders. “This competition is not for us! Go sit down. The people are honoring us for our victory with games and entertainment and ceremony on the arena floor. We all had a hard night, and another will come soon. What follows is hard training and more war. Today is our day to sit back and relax and enjoy the show. You don’t need to go down there and get chased around by an Ashtari. You haven’t been trained. Those men are entertainers.”
Jankaro knew what he needed to do. He ducked under Rafael’s grasp, grabbed the rope, and repelled down the wall to the arena floor.
“We have a new challenger!” The announcer cried out as the crowd cheered. “Ready the drums! Ready the gate! On my mark!”
Jankaro looked up to see Orion, Rafael, and Titus looking down with their arms crossed, shaking their heads in disapproval. The macaw woman strode through the crowd in a red and blue dress, a few feathers in her hair. She sat down next to Titus. His expression softened when she kissed his cheek.
“Now!” The announcer cried out. The gate lifted and the drums began their rhythmic pounding. Twenty ropes dangled from the walls all around. Two men stood at each one, ready to yank him up and out once the Ashtari closed in on him.
He picked up the long staff and gazed into the darkness behind the gate. Two large, glowing yellow eyes looked back at him. He knew why he was down there. It wasn’t to get attention or win a competition. He wanted to see the Ashtari up close. It was that innate curiosity that had dwelled in him since his earliest days. He wanted to know and behold the beauty of creation. He finally had a chance to see more of this mythical beast that lit a fire in his imagination on his last day in Olaya. He could tell by the gleam in its eyes that it was the one that had set his fate in motion, and now he had come full circle to face him again.
He wanted to drop the staff and sit peacefully and just watch the Ashtari, but the drums pounded, the announcer counted and the crowd cheered as the Ashtari roared and came charging into the arena, straight at Jankaro. From nearly 40 feet away it sprung into the air, unleashed its claws and came pouncing down on him. His instincts came roaring to life and he didn’t know he could roll and tumble out of the way with a long staff clutched in his hands, but somehow, he did. He rolled to a stop and jumped to his feet, looking back to see the black stripes and scars and rippling muscles of the creature. The hairs of the blue stripe that stretched from its forehead down its back were standing straight up. It turned around with a snarl and swiped at him with its front paw. He reflexively lifted the staff, and the paw landed on the staff in between his two hands, breaking it in two and knocking him down on his back.
The count was at five. The Ashtari tried to step on Jankaro, but he dropped one half of the staff, clutched the other tightly, and rolled. He tumbled and sprang for his life as the Ashtari continued trying to catch him under its paws. He noticed he was more agile than ever before. Chesta would be proud. He wished there were trees he could climb so he could see it from a safe place.
But Jankaro wasn’t going to climb those ropes until he really needed them. He made a space, found an opening, and swung the staff, smacking the Ashtari on his cheekbone below his eye. The staff cracked and the Ashtari roared as he flung down his paw with claws outstretched. One barely caught Jankaro’s upper arm as he dodged. It snagged his flesh and the Ashtari flung him to the ground in the opposite direction. Dirt smothered his wound as his blood trickled down. He looked up to see the Ashtari pause and roar.
“Come on out of there now,” Rafael called out as the count reached 15. “Don’t take unnecessary risks, we need you on the battlefield!”
Jankaro held a jagged shard of wood in his hand and snarled back at the Ashtari as the blood trickled down his arm and dripped onto the dirt. The Ashtari looked into his eyes, growled again, took two steps in his direction, and leapt into the air to pounce on him.
The rest of the world disappeared as Jankaro watched the Ashtari flying towards him. He looked into the eyes of the beast and saw the rage that it carried towards any human, as if they were all responsible for his captivity. He saw the long fangs aimed for his face. He saw the fur bent back with the resistance from the air, the dirt that was kicked up from below, and exposed claws that could kill two men apiece. He saw an opening.
He clutched the wooden shard like a dagger, gritted his teeth, took two steps forward and leapt up to greet his opponent’s charge. His timing and aim were impeccable, and his body found its way in between the front paw and face of the Ashtari, and he collided with its shoulder. Just before impact he decided not to stab the beast, and he dropped his crude weapon. Both hands were free to grab hold of its fur. By the time the Ashtari hit the ground, Jankaro had vaulted his legs over his back. He straddled him around the neck and held onto the blue fur, mounting him like a horse.
The announcer fell silent and the drummers stopped drumming as everyone present in the arena collectively gasped. Jankaro was just as surprised as anyone, and the Ashtari was even more surprised to be mounted by a human. He shook from side to side, and sprang up wildly as he tried to fling Jankaro off. Twenty men with spears and ropes came streaming into the arena, and one of them was calling out orders on how to recapture the beast.
Jankaro felt the rage emanating from the beast below him. Somehow he just felt calm and kept holding on. He felt it was his place to be there. The Ashtari shifted its attention from getting rid of Jankaro to defending itself against the handlers. Ropes came flying in toward the creature’s ankles.
He felt compassion for the beast, and in that moment, as far as Jankaro was concerned, their fates were linked. He cried out, “King Oranos, open the
gates and set him free!”
Oranos stood with his mouth agape.
“You’re a crazed idiot!” Titus cried out. “Get down!”
“Jankaro get down!” cried Rafael.
He sensed more than heard Orion’s command.
“You’re making a spectacle of yourself, calling everyone’s attention to you. Today is about the people giving thanks to those who fought and those who died. It’s not about you. Get down!”
The ropes secured the struggling Ashtari as Jankaro cast one last plea to his king with his eyes. The macaw woman whispered something in the king’s ear. He listened and nodded.
“I will grant your request,” Oranos called out, “and hold you responsible for his actions.” Everyone froze as the Ashtari continued to struggle against the restraints and snap at the spearheads. Jankaro’s heart lifted. “Open the gate and release them. Open the main gate.”
Titus, the handlers, and many soldiers verbally expressed their outrage, and the men at the gates hesitated.
“If he kills, you will be held responsible.” Oranos’ expression was grave and his eyes bore into Jankaro, striking fear into him. He turned to the gatekeepers and handlers. “Open now!” He roared, furious at their insubordination. “Cut him loose!”
As the ropes were cut and the Ashtari struggled free, Jankaro was transported to another time and place. All the people were gone and all was silent save for the Ashtari’s ragged breath. He could feel the surge of energy as it recognized the opportunity of the opened gate. He didn’t need another moment to tangle with the spears as he leapt forward and bound outward from the arena. When he got out he turned his head all around, looking for an escape from human territory as he trotted forward.
“Go that way!” Jankaro called out and pointed but the Ashtari was too overwhelmed with the rush of escape to receive the instruction. A cold wind streaked through Jankaro’s hair and he held tight as the Ashtari bound to the top of the pyramid of Borazos.