The Serpent and the Crown

by Sam Puma

  “Yes, my child. It is time.”

  Janesa felt hands underneath her shoulders lifting her up and facing her toward the small vial on her altar. She pulled off the stopper and drank, nearly gagging on the bitter flavor. She wanted to throw it right back up.

  “Hold it in,” Koinasa advised as Janesa fought to keep it down. “Throw the cedar again, for her. She is my friend. She will come. Call her name.”

  “Amoza,” Janesa called as she tossed the cedar on the hot coals. “Come and help me.”

  She waited in silence as the smoke drifted up and away in the gentle breeze. In the back of her mind she heard her mother singing a sweet song she used to sing when she was a child, and knelt behind Janesa braiding her hair. She wept again for the sweet mother she lost to the cruelty of the Cruxai. She continued to weep as she noticed how much pain she had hidden inside for so long. She wept for all the people and all they had lost, and thought of how much work there would be when the war was over to heal all the wounds that their bodies and spirits had suffered.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a rustling of leaves in a nearby tree.

  “She is here,” said Koinasa from behind her. “Go and sit beneath that tree.”

  Janesa pressed her hands into the soft, muddy ground beneath her feet and stood. Her head spun and it seemed like there were clouds all around her. The grass beneath her glowed a soft green and she looked up to the soft glow of the large tree before her, one she didn’t recognize. She stumbled forward, slumping in Koinasa’s arms, fighting off the need to faint.

  “Yes, child, go to her. She beckons you. She will help you.”

  “Amoza,” Janesa grunted as she slumped down and sat beneath the tree, gazing down at the thick trunk where it rose out of the ground.

  “Who calls to me?” The deep voice of an old woman came down from above.

  Janesa felt the presence of an ancient and powerful being. She trembled as she spoke. “I am Janesa of Jukita, daughter of Yanisa.”

  “Hmmm,” the voice rumbled from the tree. “You seek power? Who gave you my blood?”

  “Anhael. He said you could help in time of need. He brought three plants to brew to kill the Cruxai. We want to know how to make a poison.”

  “Anhael is not his name.”

  “What?” Janesa was perplexed. That was the only name she had ever heard him use.

  “But I know the plants of which you speak. I was there when he asked for them. I will tell you what I told him. The green flowers of adicha,” Janesa saw the small flowers vividly imprinted in her mind’s eye as Amoza continued, “must be chopped into a fine powder. Add them first to the boiling pot. The logana vine must be chopped into small chunks and beaten until their internal fibers spread and they look like a head of frizzy hair. As you may already know, it is not wise to handle the caruca leaves with bare skin. Add them to the pot last. Cook all three together. One part adicha, five parts logana and ten parts caruca. Boil them into a thickened broth and strain away the plant debris. Do not touch it or breath the vapors. Dip your arrows, use it to pierce the skin of the enemy, and he will die.”

  “Thank you,” Janesa tried to lift her heavy head to see the face of Amoza but was too weak.

  “One more thing. To make the cat strong, give him all the fish.”

  “What?”

  “Rest, child. Renew your strength.”

  “Yes, Janesa,” said Koinasa. “Sleep now.” Her hands supported Janesa’s head and back as she lost her faculties and drifted down. Koinasa supported her until she was lying on her back again. She fell into a deep sleep as the whispers of Koinasa and Amoza’s conversation faded into the distance.

  Jankaro awoke in Valera’s bed, wrapped up in her embrace. He was still tired from a night of long hours of lovemaking and little sleep. It was the best night of his life, but as he came to his senses, he realized there was much he needed to do. He began to rise when Valera woke.

  “I had a dream last night,” she said. “I was a macaw flying over the jungle. I saw a monkey drop down from a tree onto a jaguar’s back. He rode the jaguar like you ride the Ashtari. He took a stick and dipped it in a beehive. Then he rode to the top of a stone pyramid, found Agustin sleeping, and jabbed the stick in his eye.”

  “Sounds like a symbolic dream. I guess that makes me the monkey.”

  She laughed, pulled him close and kissed him again. He knew he needed to go but couldn’t say no to her. He couldn’t dress himself and leave before another hour of lovemaking.

  “I’m going to be late for the fish,” he muttered as he grabbed his silver medallion and put it around his neck.

  “Don’t ever let me sleep alone again,” Valera said. She sat up and watched him go.

  “I dare not,” said Jankaro as he hastened out. His departure from her chamber seemed to escape notice, so he briefly stepped into his own chamber on his way out. He splashed water on his face and hustled down the hall and the staircase to exit the castle.

  He made it down to the docks to find a wagon full of fresh fish waiting for him. Janesa was there with her horse, strapping the small wagon to her horse’s saddle. Her hair was down and she smelled like fragrant smudging herbs. He wondered about her shamanic journey and what she discovered, but her allure was gone. He smiled wide, having found satisfaction with Valera. The sexual tension between him and Janesa was gone. He could relax around her and focus on the mission.

  “Good morning, Janesa,” he called out as he approached.

  “You look unusually happy, considering our circumstance. You smell like Valera.” She said with raised eyebrows.

  Jankaro blushed, cleared his throat and straightened his face.

  “I suppose you got word, we are bringing these fish to share with the common people beyond the wall.”

  He felt proud of the kind and generous leader he had become as he spoke.

  Janesa wrapped her hands tightly around the reins of her horse. “We need to give the fish to Ixtlayo. I journeyed into the spirit world, and the Amoza told me that we need to give the fish to Ixtlayo to restore his strength.”

  “I told the king we would give the fish to the people. Come on now.” Jankaro reached up to take hold of the bridle of her horse to lead them to the gate.

  Janesa put her foot into his shoulder and thrust him back. She kicked her horse into a trot and the wagon rumbled away. “Sorry, commander. We need to give the fish to Ixtlayo,” she called out as they trotted away.

  “Wait!” Jankaro was enraged. “Curse you, Janesa! I am commander! Stop now or face the consequences!”

  He wondered what the consequence would be as he ran after her. Rafael always made being in command look easy. Now he felt like Titus, losing his composure and the respect of his soldiers. He stopped yelling and hustled after her quietly, afraid to look like a fool in front of all the people and soldiers that he passed.

  Janesa rode the wagon into the arena and stopped in the middle.

  “Ixtlayo,” she called his name sweetly and suggestively. Ixtlayo stretched and emerged from his resting place. His weary eyes widened as he saw the wagon full of fish. “These are for you.”

  She detached the wagon from her horse, who skittered out of the arena, nearly colliding with Jankaro as he ran in.

  “Curse you, Janesa! Those are for the people! Ixtlayo, don’t eat that!”

  He held up his hands and ran forward as Ixtlayo picked up a big fish in his jaws and started eating. Janesa took several steps back as Jankaro ran up to engage Ixtlayo. He jumped up on the cart and stood on the fish as his legs sunk down into the slimy pile. Ixtlayo roared at him fiercely, sending a blast of fishy breath into his face. Jankaro cringed and held his ground.

  “NO!” He roared back.

  Ixtlayo dropped his mouth down over Jankaro’s head and torso and he clutched him around the waist with his lips. Jankaro’s screams echoed
from inside his mouth as he lifted him out of the wagon, opened his mouth and flung him sideways. Jankaro flew through the air and crashed down on his back on the hard-packed dirt. A wave of panic came over him. For a moment he thought we was once again going to be eaten alive and swallowed whole by a giant beast. Ixtlayo’s saliva felt like the serpent’s slime, covering him and making him invisible.

  “Are you okay?!” Maximus had watched the whole thing and ran up to help Jankaro to a seated position.

  “Buh, buh, buh,” Jankaro muttered incoherently and his eyes bobbed around, unable to focus.

  Ixltayo feasted loudly in the background as Janesa knelt in front of Jankaro and held his head forward.

  “Jankaro, focus.” She held his gaze and breathed on his face. The smell of potent herbs made him cough. He started to regain his senses.

  “Look into my eyes. Say something. Do you know where you are?”

  “Janesa,” he said when he could finally focus his eyes on her. His eyes narrowed as the panic cleared and his mind focused. “Curse you!”

  He pushed her down onto her back and leapt to his feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Jankaro yelled down at her. “You’re an idiot!”

  Janesa leapt to her feet and anger gleamed in her eyes as she squared up and put her hand on the hilt of her sword. Maximus stepped around Jankaro to stand between them.

  “Jankaro, he needs the fish to regain his strength for the surgery and the war!” She yelled from behind Maximus as he restrained Jankaro.

  “That’s insubordination! They used to execute people for that!”

  “You want to execute me? You don’t want to know about how to brew Anhael’s plants into a poison?”

  Jankaro was taken aback and his anger subsided. “Jankaro,” said Maximus with a sober tone, “the people don’t need to eat fish right now. The king is providing for them. They don’t get the best food, but they are still getting fed. Right now we need to focus on getting ready for the Cruxai. I know you have a big heart and you want to show that to the people, but it’s not worth hurting Janesa over.”

  “I know,” said Jankaro.

  He turned away from them and paced. He took some deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair to calm himself. Valera came into his mind. He remembered the ecstasy of the night before and a pleasant feeling came over him.

  “Okay, fine. Ixtlayo gets the fish.” Ixtlayo roared his approval and continued feasting. “Tell me about the poison recipe and let’s get it brewing.”

  “You have a war council meeting,” said Maximus. “The king is expecting you.”

  “Brew up a batch of that stuff and test it out.”

  “On what?”

  “On a Cruxai. If Franco doesn’t get back before sunset, try it on a horse.” Jankaro cast one last angry glare at Janesa and Ixtlayo and stalked away.

  “Don’t worry about him, big guy,” said Janesa as she reached up and scratched the fuzzy whiskers on Ixtlayo’s chin. “He’ll be happy when he sees you back here with your iron paw.” Janesa retreated to the back wall of the arena, sat down and sipped water from her gourd.

  “My king,” Jankaro said as he strode forward to meet Oranos, Orion and Valera. He took his seat in a cushioned chair among them as they gathered around the hearth.

  “You look different.” He noticed the king’s hands looked hard and crusty, and his grey beard had grown considerably longer in the area around his chin. He wasn’t wearing his crown because two small horns protruded from his forehead. His brow ridge was more prominent. His body was bigger. He had grown to the same size as Orion. Jankaro’s face twisted into a squint as he observed the changes.

  “Don’t be alarmed,” said Oranos, his voice deeper than ever before. “I have used an ancient magic to change myself. The changes have just begun. I intend to fight by your side this time and help you kill off the Jurugas. That is why I ate the elder seed. I didn’t just swallow it and spit it back up like you and the other soldier initiates. I chewed it up and ate it, claiming all its power for myself. Now it transforms me. The seed was passed down for generations in my family. It was made from knowledge beyond my understanding, which has been lost. Three hundred years ago, my ancestor, Vindor the Rock, ate the elder seed to defend Caladon against a powerful army invading from the north. He grew twice his size and transformed into a mongrel composed of ram and man.”

  Orion, Valera and Jankaro all cringed as they heard the king’s revelation.

  “Back in those days we had trade connections with powerful shamans in the northern jungle, who furnished us with the elder seed that I ate this morning. Most of those shamans have been killed by Agustin. My transformation will be the last work of the elder seed.”

  “Can you change yourself back?” Valera asked.

  “I doubt it. If I don’t die in the battle, we would have to find a powerful shaman who could help me. It is likely that such a person does not exist. But that is not my present concern.” The king cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Let us consider the matter at hand. Valera, share with Jankaro the dream you shared with us.”

  Valera spoke to Jankaro, recounting the dream of the monkey riding the jaguar, and he listened as if hearing it for the first time.

  “Indeed, my king,” said Jankaro. “It sounds like an auspicious, prophetic dream.”

  “You are the monkey.”

  “Well… okay, but I’m not going to ride Ixtlayo all the way to Caladon.”

  “What about the poison?” Orion asked.

  “Janesa journeyed into the spirit world and came back with a recipe,” said Jankaro. “Maximus is brewing it now. It is very dangerous even to breathe the vapors. She says we must pierce him with it.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t have to be his eye,” said Valera. “His height makes for an impossible shot with an arrow.”

  “You would need to ride up to him and pierce his foot,” said Oranos.

  “We have a problem there,” said Orion. “When he attacked Caladon, he was buffered by his army. Thousands of Cruxai marched on all sides. The hairy ones were on the interior and the Jurugas circled around his feet. They protected him against such an attack. There was no way to ride up close to him.”

  “I need a clear path to get through. If we can get Ixtlayo healthy again, he can leap over most of the common Cruxai and his armor will protect him. But as we get closer the Juruga will step forward to confront us, the common Cruxai and hairy ones will be all around us, and Agustin will likely swing down on us with his club.”

  “Consider this,” said Orion, his brow furrowed with concentration. “We target the left foot and shoot down all the Jurugas in that area with the poison arrows. We have the civilian archers fire on any Cruxai along your path leading up to it.”

  “What about Agustin?”

  “I will distract him,” said Oranos. “I will taunt him, he will recognize me and swing at me. That will give you time to pierce him with a lance dipped in the poison.”

  “I can distract him,” said Valera. “I will dance on the wall and send my macaws to fly in his face.”

  “No, sweet child. You must wait in the boats. If we fail, you must lead the people to a new life on the island. We talked about this.” Oranos looked at Jankaro. “Go and prepare your men. They may come tonight.”

  Call of

  the Ashtari

  “Could it be?” Jorobai squinted at the horizon. The vast coastline stretched out before him and came into focus as Gondaro swam closer. This time it was not an island. “That’s the jungle, my home.” He felt it when Gondaro’s feet touched the ground.

  The giant Ashtari waded onto the shore and water streamed off his fur. He immediately lay down to rest in the afternoon sun, crushing small trees beneath his bulk. Jorobai crawled down off his head and knelt in the sand. “Thank you, Sagaya.”

  Gondaro rested whi
le Jorobai explored his surroundings. He found a nearby stream and drank the fresh water. The chirping and singing of the birds and insects reminded him of Olaya. He thought of the people of his tribe. He thought of returning home with his son.

  He ate a piece of low hanging fruit and lay down next to the stream to rest. He slept for a moment but the sound of Gondaro’s tongue lapping up the water from the stream awakened him. He opened his eyes and saw Gondaro’s fiery eyes looking down on him with a grave expression. There was something there he couldn’t identify, something Gondaro knew that he didn’t want to know. But he knew it was time to go, and hoped the jaguar man was right, and Gondaro knew where to find Jankaro.

  The plants crunched beneath Gondaro’s feet. He crossed rivers without getting his feet wet. All variety of creatures scrambled to get out of his way. An unfortunate young tapir met its end beneath Gondaro’s front paw. Gondaro poked it with his claw, lifted its body into his mouth and ate it. The bones crunched between his jaws as he continued his march through the jungle.

  They crested a hill, and in the valley below there was a clearing for a village. Gondaro was heading straight towards the cluster of huts. Jorobai saw children at play and mothers with babes at their breasts.

  “Watch out, Gondaro!” Jorobai called out but Gondaro wouldn’t change course. The villagers looked up and screamed and ran off in all directions.

  “Curse you, Gondaro!” Jorobai screamed and pulled on his fur, trying to steer him away from the village but it was no use. Gondaro stepped on two of the huts, crushing them beneath his feet. He walked on without regret as Jorobai looked back at the flattened huts, wondering if anyone was in them. His stomach felt sick and a disturbed feeling came over him. He wasn’t riding the same cub he had raised from infancy. He was now partially composed of the same stuff as Jugon Drogon, the type of being who wouldn’t hesitate to take a human life.

  Jorobai’s dark thoughts haunted him but he knew he was at the mercy of the giant Ashtari. Gondaro was his only hope. He felt powerless and prayed to Sagaya that it would turn out the way he dreamed.