by Sam Puma
“We ate plenty sitting on those boats while you did all the fighting. Eat!” Jankaro took the bowl back and continued his feast. His whole body ached, but the food restored his strength. “The sky is darkening. Anhael said we can remove his blindfold soon.”
“My eyes are feeling much better,” said Jorobai. “I want to take it off right now so I can see my son with his mate.”
“Ixtlayo!” Jankaro shouted as he dropped his bowl and ran out to the arena. He found Maximus there, feeding bits of fish to Ixtlayo. The Ashtari lazily chewed and swallowed.
“Anhael says there is a good chance he will make it, now that he is eating.” Maximus looked up to greet Jankaro. “Want to feed him?” He stood up and gestured at the bucket of chopped fish.
Jankaro patted Maximus on the shoulder and sat down in front of Ixtlayo. He looked into his eyes and was relieved to find that Ixtlayo could meet his gaze. A grunt was all the Ashtari could muster but Jankaro was encouraged to see him getting better. He looked at Ixtlayo’s leg to see that the metal paw had been removed. His leg was covered in heavy bandages. “You’re going to be okay.” Jankaro put another piece of fish in Ixtlayo’s mouth and rubbed the side of his face while he chewed.
The Galdeans spent the next three days removing the Cruxai bodies from the city, washing away their blood and any trace of them. Many of the women helped with the work, and the young children were kept on the boats, spared from the images that might disturb them. Oranos, the fallen soldiers, and fallen militia fighters were honored with funeral pyres and ceremonies as the people grieved for their loved ones.
Jankaro was relieved to find Orion and Altamont alive and well. When he came upon them he greeted them with warm embraces. He introduced them to Jorobai, bursting with pride and eager to tell the tale of how his father rode in on a giant Ashtari to defeat Agustin and save the city.
Jorobai’s vision gradually returned to normal as he worked side by side with his son. They were disgusted by the task, but relieved by the scouting reports that the horde had retreated all the way back to Caladon. As they worked, Jorobai and Jankaro amazed each other with tales of Juitao, Gondaro, the island of Jugon Drogon, the dark chamber, Ixtlayo and all of the epic battles with the Cruxai.
Jankaro gave Jorobai his room, and spent his nights in Valera’s bed, taking every opportunity to show her how thrilled he was to be there.
When all of the Cruxai dead were cleared, and all the fallen Galdeans had been honored, a festival was held in the arena to celebrate the victory. Valera danced with her macaws and dazzled everyone. Ixtlayo limped out of his den to receive applause and accolades. Musicians and dancers performed as the people feasted. Jorobai, Jankaro and other soldiers who exemplified valor were given gold medallions.
In a ceremony later in the evening, all of the nobles and army officers gathered in the throne room with the kings and queens. Aldril, the king of Calixo stood up from his throne and addressed the guests. In his hands he held Oranos’ crown.
“Bring him forward.” He gestured to Rafael’s widow, and she led her five year old son to stand with the king. “You are the heir to Caladon. When you pass the test and become a man, you will wear this crown. You will be king of Caladon and war chief of Galdea.” He tapped the crown gently on the child’s forehead, then lowered it and held it in front of him. “Touch it.” The child reached out and touched the crown with both hands. Aldril turned to Rafael’s wife. “Thank you.” She led the child back to his seat.
Aldril raised his voice again to address the audience. “This child is too young to bear the burden of this crown. As there is no other heir, the council of kings has selected a man to wear this crown in his stead, until he comes of age. After the great success of the last battle, our choice was easy. We have selected the man who Oranos selected for his commander. Jankaro of Olaya, come forward.”
Aldril looked at Jankaro and gestured him forward. Everyone waited quietly as Jankaro, flanked by Jorobai and Valera, sat still and stared back at Aldril. He stopped breathing. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his chair. His body felt heavy and he didn’t want to get up. He looked at the door and thought about running. He looked at Jorobai, pleading with his eyes for help to escape, but Jorobai just looked back at him, beaming with pride. Valera poked him in the ribs. “Get up and receive the coronation.”
Jankaro stood and paused. His head was light and he rocked back on his heels. He blinked his eyes, took a deep breath and straightened his shirt. He had a strong urge to pee as he summoned every ounce of strength to put a stoic face on the turmoil he felt inside. His feet were heavy as stones as he dragged them forward. “No. No. No. No,” he said to himself with every step.
Before he knew it he was standing in front of Aldril and the crown was held above his head. “Jankaro of Olaya, I name you king of Caladon and war chief of Galdea. I charge you with a difficult task: to defeat the Cruxai and reclaim the kingdom of Galdea. Do you accept?”
The crown had yet to touch his head but he felt the weight of it crushing him. He felt like the boy in the cave, about to be eaten by a giant snake. He wanted the war to be over. He didn’t want to be in Galdea any more. He imagined going home to Olaya with Jorobai, and taking Ixtlayo, Valera and her macaws with him. “Do you accept?” Aldril repeated as the audience stirred and murmured.
Jankaro imagined becoming king and fighting the Cruxai, reclaiming Caladon, Dorfin, and every other Galdean city. He knew it was what needed to be done. He knew he couldn’t just walk out on them. He knew Valera wanted to reclaim her homeland. All of the soldiers who fought bravely at his side wanted the same. They chose him to be their leader. He steadied his resolve, set aside his childish desires and spoke. “I accept. Together we will defeat the Cruxai!” He cried out loud as he raised his fist and swiveled at the waist in all directions to meet the faces of his new people as they stood and cheered.
The crown was set down on his head amidst the raucous applause, and immediately sent lightning bolts of pain through his body. Jankaro winced and reached up. He touched the crown and tried to take it off, but it hurt his hand to touch it. It was too heavy to lift. “Are you okay?” Aldril asked with a look of concern.
Jankaro lowered his hand and restored the stoic expression to his face. “It’s heavy.”
“Like Oranos, you will learn to wear it with pride and strength. It will get lighter with time, and become the source of your strength.” He raised his voice above the applause. “Go forth and bring us victory!” He put his hands on Jankaro’s shoulders and spun him around.
Valera came forward, stood at his side and took him by the arm. She led him from the hall and up to her room. They emerged on the balcony to find a crowd had gathered below. When they saw Jankaro they cheered. He raised his hand to acknowledge them, but his pain was too great to linger there, so he turned and retreated to their chamber.
The Crown
Jankaro lay back on the bed and fumbled with the crown but it was too heavy for him to remove. Valera lifted it from his head with very little effort. “You look ill. Get some rest.” She carried the crown over to her dresser and gently set it down next to the box that held her fan. Jankaro’s body felt heavy as stone. He couldn’t move or open his eyes. He felt like the crown filled the whole room and pressed down on his body, holding him there. Valera undressed and joined him in the bed.
“Can I get you anything?”
Jankaro absently shook his head. “You’re going to be a great king. I dream of the day when you reclaim my homeland.” She cuddled up with him, stroked his hair, and they both drifted off to sleep.
Jankaro’s body lay dormant while his spirit struggled with a dream. He smelled the acid breath of the snake before he saw the door open and her forked tongue flicker through. He stood to face her and looked into her eyes. “You know why I have come.” She hissed the words to him and her breath made him feel faint.
“But I nee
d it to help the people.” He looked over at the crown sitting on the dresser and the box next to it. He opened up the box and pulled out the fan. “You could take this instead. Isn’t it nice?”
“That is not yours to give. It is time for you to bring me my prize.” She wrapped her body around Jankaro and squeezed out his breath.
He awoke in the bed with a start and shot up to a seated position. As if pulled by forces beyond his control, he walked to the dresser and picked up the heavy crown. He looked back at Valera to make sure she was asleep before he strapped his sword to his waist and left the chamber.
At the main entrance to the castle the guards were surprised to see him heading out in the middle of the night. “King Jankaro, is everything all right?”
“Just had some trouble sleeping. Felt like getting some air and checking on Ixtlayo.”
“I haven’t slept well either. Good night, my king.”
Jankaro kept up the ruse by walking over to the arena to see Ixtlayo. In the darkness of the den he could see with his night vision as Ixtlayo lifted his head and looked at him with a curious expression. He gave the Ashtari a rub behind his ears. “I wish I could take you with me tonight.” He rubbed Ixtlayo for a moment, but the crown grew heavy and sent pain through his skull, reminding him to keep moving.
The guards at the gate of upper Calixo were surprised to see him. “It’s late, my king.”
“I couldn’t sleep. I had an idea about how I want my sword engraved. I must take it to Altamont before I fall back asleep and forget.” The guards stared quizzically as they admitted him through the gate. They followed his orders but he could tell that deep down they still saw him as that jungle man who got lucky in his first few battles and just happened to find favor with the king.
“My king, you mustn’t go out there.” The guards at the outer wall of the city were doubly skeptical when he said he needed to get some air. “A Cruxai could jump out from behind a tree and put an end to you. There’s no sense in taking the risk.”
“Get out of my way.” Jankaro lost his patience for explaining and making up stories as the crown shot bolts of pain through his skull. He pulled the latch out of the gate and pulled it open.
“Let us summon an armed escort,” the guards pleaded. “You don’t even have your armor.”
“No.” Jankaro’s body tensed and he nearly struck the man. “I’ll be right back,” he growled as he stalked through the gate and out onto the road alone.
Once he broke free from the city walls, the crown became lighter with every step. He would find the snake, deliver the crown, return to the Galdeans and face the consequences. Any deviation from that intention caused him a tremendous amount of pain. He wished there was another way, but in spite of the insult to the Galdeans, it felt right to keep his word to the snake. He needed his life and she spared it. In return she asked for the crown, so he would honor his end of the bargain and deliver it.
When he reached the top of the hill, he looked for the entrance as he stood by the fruit tree that once sustained his sickly, slime-covered body. His memory was distorted. He remembered enjoying the taste of the fruit as he relaxed in the sunshine, musing about the strange city below. He picked a piece of fruit, took a bite and wondered if he was on the right hill. “I remember this fruit. This must be the place.” As the sweetness pleased his tongue, something moved on the hill. A bush shook from side to side, came up from its roots and tumbled down. A few rocks followed, and created a small, dark opening. Jankaro tossed the fruit aside and moved toward it, pulled by the crown. By the time he reached the opening, it was big enough for him to crawl through.
Led by the beckoning call of his curiosity, he wriggled through the small entrance. The hilt of his sword caught on a root, but he reached back and was able to free it. He pulled himself forward until there was more space, and he was able to stand. He dusted off his clothes and took a few small steps forward.
“Ahhh,” she said from a hidden place ahead. He instantly recognized the voice of the great serpent in whose belly he had once been trapped, and felt a chill run down his spine. “I knew you would return.”
With his night vision, he saw the glowing aura of her forked tongue from around a bend. Her giant head followed. It wasn’t quite as big as he remembered, but still plenty big enough to easily swallow him whole. Her yellow eyes locked in on his, and he stood transfixed as the rest of her giant body emerged from around the corner. She stopped a few paces ahead of him. “Oh my. The crown is more beautiful than I imagined.”
When Jankaro lifted the crown from his head, it felt lighter than ever before. He took one step forward, lay it down before the snake, and stepped back. “We made an agreement. You spared my life, and I promised to bring you the crown. Here it is.”
The snake glanced down at the crown, then looked back up at Jankaro. “I am so glad you kept your promise. Now put it back on your head.”
“What?! But you said…” Jankaro was confused as he warily picked up the crown.
“I said bring me the crown. You brought it to me, and now my work is complete.” The snake paused and flicked her tongue in the air. Jankaro wondered if the deal was off and she was just going to eat him anyway, as if she had been toying with him the whole time. “There is just one more thing I must ask of you.”
Jankaro’s body tensed. He was anxious to leave as he fingered the hilt of his sword.
“Deliver me to my home.”
Jankaro’s brow wrinkled with confusion. The snake was 50 times his size and there was no way he would be delivering her anywhere. “How?”
“Stand on my head and plunge your sword into my brain as deep as you can, with all of your strength.”
“Why in Sagaya’s name would you want me to do that?!”
“My work here is done, and I must return to my family in the spirit world.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you want to die?”
“After you put your sword through my brain, pull it out and drag it along the side of my belly, cutting only the skin. Look inside, and the truth will be revealed.”
“I can’t just…”
“Jankaro.” When he heard the snake speak his name, he froze. “Do this for me.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Do as I ask and the truth will be revealed. Do it or I will eat you and you can cut your way out. My time here is done. I have served my purpose. I need to go home.”
Jankaro couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the old snake as he stepped forward and rested his hand on the side of her giant head. He reflected on his journey since he had been eaten. At first he sought the crown for his own safety, so he could return to Olaya. But once he saw the vision of his mother’s death, he found his own reason to defeat the Cruxai. The snake brought him to the people who could help him set things right in the world.
As he climbed on top of her head, he was saddened by the task of euthanizing her. But if that was what she needed, he would honor her request. “I want to thank you. You gave me a chance to make things right.”
“The crown is yours now. Use it wisely.” The snake slowed her breath and waited calmly as Jankaro unsheathed his sword. He held it high above his head, and used all his strength to plunge it down into the top of her skull. Her body writhed back and forth in slithering spasms as he lost his balance and tumbled down. She exhaled a final time and her body was still.
Jankaro stood up and ran his hand along her body, all the way down to the end of her tail and back up the other side. He imagined watching her slithering through the jungle, stalking a fat tapir. She was bigger than any snake in the folk tales he heard in his youth. He resolved to wait until he was an old man to share his tale. He drew his sword and considered her request to open up her body. Was there really something in there for him to see? He didn’t want to cut her open.
As he stood there considering, her st
omach moved. He looked closer. Something, or someone, was inside her belly, pushing to get out. A lump formed in Jankaro’s throat. He felt a blend of confusion and repulsion as he watched the skin bulge and relax. He swallowed and knew that whatever was inside would need to be let out. “Move back,” he warned, not knowing if the being on the other side would understand. To his surprise, the bulging stopped. He rested his sword on the side of her belly, and made a long incision, careful to cut only through the skin.
A strong floral smell emerged. Water poured through the opening and trailed away into the cave. There was no blood or guts, only pure water that poured out continuously and formed a stream. Several pairs of human hands took hold of the opening and stretched it wide. A soft white light illuminated the cave. A woman with long brown hair and a white gown stepped out of the snake’s belly. Jankaro recognized his own mother, her eyes full of deep love and wisdom. She cupped his face with both hands, taking a moment to admire her son who had become a man, a soldier and a king. She wrapped her arms around him and embraced him.
“Mother,” he uttered before his emotions choked away any more words.
Shalea released the embrace and looked at his face. “Handsome like your father.” She smiled. An old woman wearing a colorful headdress of feathers and leaves emerged from the belly of the snake behind her. “This is Havana. She found me in the spirit world after I was killed. I was drifting on the other side, and she brought me to a convergence of women.” As Shalea spoke to Jankaro, Havana cupped water from the flowing stream and chanted as she poured it over his head. All the aches and pains and fatigue in his body washed away. She continued chanting as she washed his hands with the water. As she worked, other women, all dressed in white, emerged from the belly of the snake. They chanted along with Havana as they lay down in the stream one by one, allowing the current to carry them away.
“Havana is the wife of Ishikaya, the shaman that you met in the forest, who showed you how to cure the Ashtari. She was killed by the Cruxai. She helps her husband from the spirit world. She gathered 100 women, most of us shamans or daughters of shamans. We worked together, pooling our powers and intentions, and created this snake, an incarnation we could use on earth to serve our purpose. We would deliver a champion, someone we could bless with our potency, who could lead the people to victory. You were a strong baby, I thought you would make a fine hunter like your father. So I volunteered you. You got some very special treatment in that chamber in Caladon from Kayo and the spirits that accompany Ishikaya, Havana, and the rest of us. We have been watching over you. But for many of us, we must not linger any more. We must pass on and let our souls rest. So now we charge you to take this crown and wear it.” Havana removed the crown from Jankaro’s head and held it in the stream as the water continued to pour out of the snake’s belly. She scrubbed every inch of it vigorously with her thumbs as she chanted. “Be the king of Caladon and reclaim Galdea, the jungle that holds Olaya, and the northern jungle. Rid the world of Cruxai so that the people can once again live in peace and prosperity.”