Ysstrhm 5, Flight's End

By Douglas Browning

Tragedy and loss continue to follow Snydur Pup. After he and Ashoma journey to the City and aid in the battles there against the wardens, they hire the pirate captain Rowl to take them west to the outlaw village of Lostworld where they hope to find Snydurs missing love Tisoo. Driven east by storm they find themselves instead at the town of Mad Seasuch. Fleeing the eruption of Balgoom, they travel over the mountains and into the fog-shrouded Wonnwol, lost and then captured by the Waol. If they can make it back to the Valley, they will find it on the verge of all-out war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 16, 2009
• ISBN: 9781450012119

Douglas Browning

Douglas Browning, retired university professor of philosophy, lives outside Georgetown, Texas, where he labors at length over poems and novels, stays up throughout the night reading, writing, and listening to jazz, and enjoys life in his countryside hacienda with his talented and beautiful wife.

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YSSTRHM 5

Flight’s

End

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Douglas Browning

Copyright © 2009 by Douglas Browning.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009913407

ISBN:     Hardcover           978-1-4500-1210-2

                Softcover             978-1-4500-1209-6

                E-book                 978-1-4500-1211-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book, including the appendices, is the fifth of a six volume work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales are strictly coincidental.

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Contents

map

Challories

flight’s end

prologue

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

interlude

Appendices

A. Titles and Forms of Address

B. Health Care

C. Tools and Utensils

D. Annals of the Valley

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flight’s end

prologue

T here is no explaining it. How outrageous, how incredibly incomprehensible, it is that I have fallen in love with, not one, not two, but three women. There is no thought to compass it. It came to be and that’s the whole of it. That’s the way with falling in love, one just has to accept it and live with it, and forget about trying to make sense of it.

Still, I am struck by the fact that the circumstances of each of my three loves have been different.

Take Palix to begin with. I cared for her when I was thirteen and she was a girl of twelve mistakenly dubbed Boy, enslaved like me to the salt traders. I wanted the best for her and so I contrived her escape. Later at the springs at the haven, when she was a young woman of the blue dancers, I saw her and I wanted her. There was something else to be sure, some sort of mysterious fascination on my part, but I took it as just a twist of my sexual fascination. She’s told me that she was in love with me from the beginning when she was twelve and maybe that’s so, but it wasn’t that way for me. When I found myself in love with her at Sah Lomantha I resisted it, not knowing exactly what was going on, not trusting feelings so new to me, but I couldn’t deny the truth any longer when we came together at the Winnow. She was the first. And in spite of our present estrangement, I’m still caught. I’m still in love with her. Maybe I always will be.

Tisoo now, how different our story goes. I met her even before I encountered Boy. She was a gorgeous sixteen and I was a thirteen-year old boy. She says she fell in love with me then, but I believe that’s not quite true. We both fell in love with the idea of each other, in her case with the picture of the man I was to become and in my case with the haunting promise of her last whispered words to me, "Someday . . . maybe." We weren’t in love with each other, with the individuals we were, until years went by and we came upon each other, face to face, full bodied, with adult blood coursing through our flesh. I certainly found her a more alien creature than I had ever imagined and I’m sure she saw in me a man who was lustfully bewitched and had no thought but getting inside of her. My falling in love with her was a revelation to me, overriding my assurance that I could never be in love with anyone but the one I thought of as my one true love, my Palix. But there it was, I fell, forget about anything else.

With Ashoma the route towards my falling in love was more mystifying yet. It was lust from the beginning, no doubt about that. That gorgeous black, black dancer’s body inspired my dreams and my fantasies. Then the lust became something stronger and more persistent, lust still overwhelming of course but intensified by a deep sense of concern for her, of finding comfort with her beside me, of worrying about keeping her own trust in me. It was more than companionship, even more than the deep affection, yes even veneration, I had come to have for her. But falling in love with her? When did that happen? I think I know. There came a point when I looked at her and found myself somewhere I had never been. I have no doubt I was sliding into it rather than plummeting unexpectedly into a chasm that suddenly opened up and swallowed me. It was different than it was with Tisoo or Palix. But it happened, didn’t it? The slide was over. I had lost all footing.

So I have to conclude that there is no way to predict that experience of finding oneself in love. When it happens, it just does. And now I can only live with the wonder of it. One thing though. If I am to believe Tisoo, Palix, and Ashoma, they fell in love with me before I fell in love with them and they knew about the nature of what they experienced before I was aware of it. Maybe it goes back to the conclusion I came to about women quite a while ago. They are more in tune with their feelings, their bodies, their wholeness, than men. But even if that’s a fact, it explains nothing about why those three fell in love when they did or fell in love with me. And it certainly explains nothing about why I did.

I have a tendency to want to sort things out. When it comes to things like love and caring and lust, that’s surely a mistake. There are things that don’t allow themselves to be sorted out. I accepted that piece of wisdom at the Bulwark years ago. Those things are not only inexplicable, but it is somehow unfitting to attempt to explain them. But I can’t help having a certain amount of puzzlement.

Take Roo. Now there’s a case to ponder. My first feelings about her were shame. That became a deep sense of responsibility. And somewhere along the way that became a caring so strong it was painful. If I let myself dwell on it, it became a perverse worrying, a raging concern to be beside her at every instant, to protect her, to see that she is well and alive and has a future that is good. How did that happen? Of course she has on many occasions inspired me to lust. She’s lovely and seductive and luscious. How could I not? But I never lusted for her as I did for Hilou, say, or her mother Rromi or Chooni or, most recently, Denachi. Or even Ushoo. Those were women I had a raging lust for before caring about their well-being even entered my thoughts. I just had to have them. Bam! With Roo, lust was something we could and did share, but it came about when it did surrounded by that sort of concern for each other that is a powerful kind of love of its own. My feelings about my sister Salii are similar and, to a lesser extent, my feelings about Thacti and Dotiji are as well. But the depth of my caring about Roo is on another level. I care so much for her I could easily become obsessed with watching over her, protecting her in every step of her life, but at the same time I want just as much for her to lead her own life without such intrusion. It’s a weird sort of hands-on-hands-off, watch-don’t-watch involvement. Of course, once I was involved in sex with Hilou, for example, it was caring sex in the sense that I wanted to pleasure her, to give her what caring sex deserves. And afterwards I did care about her in the ordinary sense. I wanted her to be safe and happy. But with Roo, there’s something else at work. I tell myself, accept it, Snydur, don’t puzzle about it. It is what it is.

I can only say this. Every love is different. I love four women with my whole being. I’m in love with three of them but with Roo it’s something else. It makes me wonder about labels, words. Is how I feel about Roo another sort of being in love after all? Can’t those words, being in love, be stretched to cover something so precious? Why should I puzzle about it anyhow? Shouldn’t I just be grateful for these precious things that grace my life and quit trying to compare them and give them names? Of course. I know that. So you see that, in spite of my predilections, attempting to sort out, get a handle on, those precious things that come to be in one’s life with a strength and wholeness that cannot be ignored, such propensities are, to put it starkly, a waste of time.

Anyhow, there is a more pressing reason for not wasting my time obsessing about such personal matters. The situation in the Valley is dire and becoming more so by the day. I say it is dire because what looms on our side is heavy battle and much blood. On our enemies’ side, with Jaltran’s army, Mascar’s large gang, and the increasing numbers of brown and black wardens, bloody fighting is also in the offing. When the fighting is done, we will have won. That is my hope. It is also my hope that there will not be as much blood on either side as I can’t help thinking there will be.

For me, concentration on the coming warfare must now take first place. My preoccupation with avenging the death of Sulva and my almost constant concern for the well-being of Tisoo, Palix, Ashoma, and Roo must for the time take second place.

In pursuit of girding for war I am in the hands of Ashoma, who seems to see our needs more clearly than I. Our forces are growing on the Enscarf and their training is in good hands. The situation in Greenstead, New Town, Jowhiloo’s haven, and the Palace seems solid and the situation in the Par Rrelom under the able leadership of Shat and Affie is, so far as I can tell, stable. The critical spots are now two.

For the first, conditions in and around the town of the two markets are, in spite of Bruc’s preparations, fragile. It is quite clear to me that Jaltran’s forces could overwhelm the area with little effort. For that reason, Ashoma maintains, the viability of the band of women warriors Palix has organized is critical. If properly trained and led, Palix’s group, though unable even with Bruc’s aid to ward off a full-out assault by Jaltran, could tie his forces down with a series of well-planned strikes at his lines of supply and communication. According to Ashoma—how she divines such is beyond me—Palix’s role in the war will be even more significant than what she does in that area. I cannot find it in my heart to disagree with her, she is so sure of it. How I can aid in this regard is not altogether clear to me, especially given the distance that now separates Palix and me and her unwillingness to narrow it. But Ashoma is convinced that my presence and support of Palix at the Circle of the Blue Dancers at Sah Lomantha is crucial. So we go there.

The second critical area of concern is the City. Though I was there only a short time ago—two dwilmonths or so—it is again Ashoma’s view that another visit is also vital. I’m not sure what I can do to support Chid and his band in their struggle against the growing numbers and increased aggressiveness of the wardens. As a member of the Domus, isii would be of much more help in that regard than the mere presence of a single man and a warrior woman. Still, I agree that my presence among the fighters of the opposition may well encourage them at a time when things are not going quite as well as could be hoped. There is, of course, a bonus for me in going to the City again. Chid may have news of Tisoo. Is it possible that I could actually find her and bring her back to the Palace with Ashoma and me? I cannot allow the thought to distract me. As I have said, my first concern now must be with the preparations for the coming war.

The war. Before a year has passed it will be raging.

I

I t was a steep climb up the slopes of Nnoor when we decided to rest on a flat outcrop. Ashoma kicked off her sandals, stretched out her legs, and leaned back on her hands. The throwing dagger above her right ankle was sheathed in black like her skin, and its glossy black hilt glistened in the mid morning sun. She had brought no other arms, but I had been stung by the absence of weapons when I had foolishly climbed those very slopes some years earlier and been captured and taken to the prison, so I carried all of mine this time.

Why did you insist on wearing a short dress, Ashoma? Wouldn’t trousers in this terrain have been better?

She looked at me in wonder and smiled slightly. Her eyes were narrowed against the light.

It’s much easier in a dress should I have an urge for a quick bonk. She pointed at her bare feet. See, I’m already half there.

I put my hand on her knee and slid it up her thigh. We haven’t missed too many opportunities, have we, Ashoma? But I have to say, once you get started wanting attention, you’re insatiable. Don’t you know that men are not so resilient?

I know you, she said sweetly. When your mouth begins its work on me, the rest follows.

Now?

She smiled. "I said when I have the urge for a quick bonk. I’ll let you know. I’m thinking of a softer place in the shade after a long drink of water."

She swung her body around and lifted up her chin, directing my attention to the top of Nnoor about a walk above us.

If you go up to the cliff there that rises up to the summit and circle a little to the north, maybe a walk, you will find a crack filled with rocks that you can climb up and get on the top.

You know this.

It’s how we climbed up and then escaped down, most of us, when we caused the ruckus that allowed you to escape the prison.

So you were along on that escapade.

Of course. You knew that didn’t you?

I always thought so.

Well, now you know.

I stroked her thigh. My mouth itched to go there.

She didn’t protest my caresses, but she didn’t encourage anything further. She said, The Challory looks so small from here.

I took in the landscape below us. We were about four walks above Sah Lomantha and, yes, it looked, not only small, but forlorn and uncomfortably vulnerable. From our position the rise of Nnoor cut off our sight to the west and a sizeable portion of the southwest. I couldn’t see where the River ran or where the City lay, but laid out before us was the land all the way to the Sea, a ribbon of which glistened in the sun over two margins to the south. Closer but still almost a margin away breeze-blown dust shrouded the spread of the meager farmland that ran up to the cluster of buildings that lined Shopshur and Shurship Mawms, though I could not make out the roads themselves. I located the green and gray of Devi Bog—it seemed so small and insignificant—and I calculated the site of the home of the Rainlees, but I couldn’t of course find it among buildings that appeared from where I sat as barely discernible among the trees. To the east, as far distant as the Sea, the jumble of the Par Rrelom, indistinguishable in any detail, was open to clear view. Surprisingly, the straight path of the Great Par Rrelom Mawm stood out clearly like a slash in the land. The white swath of the Wonnwol stretched out to disappearance on the horizon, its blanket of misty fog shining like a field of snow. It was guarded by Woltix to its north and Rhulan to its south, but I couldn’t catch sight of the Clowm or the Palace because of an outcropping to our north.

Down there, I said, beyond the town of two markets, along the Mawm, Jaltran and his allies from the City will command soon, if not already.

She didn’t say anything. She looked where I pointed and then lay back and let her head rest on the stone. I turned my eyes from the distance and let them linger on her long slim form. A feeling of such tenderness filled me that it caught in my throat. I blinked sudden tears away. I loved every pinch of that woman. It continued to surprise me that she could feel the same for me.

Tomorrow we would depart the Circle at Sah Lomantha and make our way towards the City. It would be dangerous. The plan was to move from one of our stations to the next along the Mawm until we found a place we felt safe enough to cross the mawm and steal towards isii’s mansion. What made the trip doubly perilous was the fact that we would be heavily armed. Perhaps unarmed and disguised in suitable clothing we might be able to slip along the mawm almost to Limbeldon Market; the presence of a heavily clothed woman with a bedraggled man would make that at least feasible. But it was unthinkable not to be able to defend ourselves should we be accosted. In any case, our appearance at the way stations would be useful on its own account. Their continued viability was important and a continual assurance of the need for their vigilance and readiness was imperative. I had allowed myself to be convinced by Ashoma, as well as others, that the mere appearance of the famous Snydur Pup among any of our people could only aid in the ensuring of continued confidence in our purpose, to which should be added the encouraging effect of the presence of a warrior woman who had been a member of Mistra’s band.

I had been the one to suggest the present trip up the slopes of Nnoor. Being alone with Ashoma was always desirable, but mainly I wanted to survey the land we would be traveling through and let my companion become familiar with how it was laid out. Well, I suppose that even more important in my view was getting our thoughts focused on our task, something that I thought, rightly or wrongly, best achieved by being alone together with none of the concerns in the Circle and the town below to distract us.

Ashoma broke the silence. The business, your business, with Palix went very well I think. I’m pleased.

It had been the first order of my business in coming to Sah Lomantha to encourage Palix in her endeavor of preparing a new gang of warriors for the sort of quick-strike tactics at which Mistra’s gang had been so successful. Ashoma’s role in providing such support was important as well, especially since she had worked with Palix and her growing group at the Circle for close to two dwilmonths before leaving to join me at the Palace. Having been a key member of Mistra’s band and, before that at Ba Dwahana, an assistant trainer of tangling and use of the knife in self-defense, assistant to Unishria in fact, she had been invaluable in the training, particularly with the recruits from the community who were not prepared for fighting. My role was more ticklish and, according to Ashoma, more critical. Palix had spent too long considering herself unworthy of trust, not only from me, but to some extent from others. She had worked hard to prove by her actions that she was not the sort of person she had been as Mistra or as my beloved. Prodded by Ashoma I found myself in the uncomfortable position of encouraging Palix in recovering her confidence and leadership abilities in regard to her new group without—and I emphasize this—without rousing in her the tendency she had almost overcome of dwelling on her unworthiness as the object of my love. I was to tell her the truth, that I was still in love with her and that that would never change, yet I must not say anything to weaken her confidence in herself. Now Ashoma was telling me it had gone well. I thought back over what had happened.

Not long after arriving at the Circle I said to Palix, I’m greatly impressed by what you have done putting together a fighting group. Of course I know Agaishi—she seems amazing with the bow in spite of having only the one eye—and Twialo. And Trusk and Cwicwi are born warriors. I’m surprised to see Shima there. I thought that accepting someone from the Challory would be forbidden by Ylsi, at least for now. But the others! Ashoma told me about your progress with them, but I couldn’t believe it until now. Amazing, darling!

She flushed. I know that my praise meant something special to her, however much she was better at what she was doing than I could ever be.

We were standing in the small courtyard of the large house that Palix had taken over from the now deceased former Mistress of Sah Lomantha. Her charges, busily engaged in a tangling exercise, were grouped behind us. Palix had been remarkably welcoming when she saw me and Ashoma enter. She had come up almost at a run, towards Ashoma at first, then slowing as she approached and staring at the both of us. In fact she was now grinning, something I never expected to see. To find her so cheerful elated me.

Palix waved at the group behind her. There are fourteen of us, including me of course. It’s about right, I think. Shima Cat, well, she pleaded with the Mistress to let her come and, since Dotiji is now an unmiss, Ylsi finally yielded.

Dotiji an unmiss? Well, I knew that. But she’s so young!

You keep thinking of her as the forward little miss you first encountered. That was years ago, Snydur.

Hooie fooie.

What? What did you say?

"Sorry, just something I heard someone say earlier today.

She frowned at me, but she let it pass and began grinning again. Did she not know of my more recent coupling with Dotiji? Wouldn’t Mixtoo or Lyri have told her? It came to me that they were probably a little more careful telling her things like that now.

I said, I had heard that Sunny had joined your gang. I don’t see her.

She wanted to but I wouldn’t let her. She has other things to do. Shein of course, but also I need for her to remain at the Circle and, well, keep up the close tie to her lover Bruc. That’s important.

Yes, that’s true.

Palix, still grinning, took up her account again. Very soon we’ll begin some exercises out in the land, maybe even a simple encounter with a manageable group of gooks. As to the progress, Ashoma is responsible for it in good part. She had been looking openly at me but now she looked away. She was bubbling over about something, and she was trying to hide it from me.

I hurried to say, Ashoma, yes. Well, I have news about her too. How shall I put it? Let me start by saying that… Look, I must say this at least once so you know. We’ve had our… strains, you and me. I’ve not always been happy about your distance and, well, you know what. Okay, that’s to put it lightly. I’ve been infuriated with you and I guess I still am to some extent. But I want you to know that my love for you is too strong to die. I love you, I’m in love with you, and what you think or do will not change that.

I don’t know whether that pleases me or not, Snydur. You know I…

I wouldn’t let her go where she was heading. I hastened to interrupt.

About Ashoma. Well, first, about loving you. You’ve told me your love for me is as strong as ever and I live on that. Someday things may be different between us but as to Ashoma. I was stumbling around like a newborn murl. Palix was grinning again. There’s you and Tisoo and now there’s Ashoma. I fell in love with her if you must know. I don’t know how I can be in love with three women, but I am. She’s… Ashoma’s so… I love her, Palix.

Palix laughed. "Now that is good news! But you have to know I saw it when the two of you came in. I couldn’t miss it. You must have seen that I can hardly keep from laughing out loud, I’m so pleased. But Snydur! She’s been in love with you for so long, didn’t you know that? And you’ve been so slow, it’s been agonizing. Oh Snup, she’s worth every bit of the love you can have for her! Maybe she can become so important to you that you can forget me."

Never. You were my first love, Palix. How I feel about you is too precious to me to ever go away. But I know that’s not what you want to hear. So, just celebrate with me. I have a new love, a special, precious love, and she will not let me pine my life away for you. But when I’m alone, I can’t help… Enough of that.

Palix turned away from me and I knew she was trying to keep from breaking into tears. I wanted to put my hands on her. I wanted much more. But I was afraid. I tried to hold back, but I couldn’t help myself. I put my hands on her shoulders, lightly, gently. I stroked her hair and she abruptly pulled away.

Blessed Dwil. Oh Palix. I’m sorry, it’s just…

Let me go, Snup, she blurted, still facing away from me. Let me go. Make your life with Ashoma. Please, Snup. Let me go.

I will do almost anything you ask of me, darling Palix. But I can’t do that. I don’t know how. But I won’t push myself on you and I’m sorry I touched you just now.

She turned back to me. Her eyes were wet but she had gotten herself together. She was defiant in her recovery. The grin was gone and her face was set. I was overjoyed to see that renewal of confidence and determination in her. I stood straight and silent and let her take a long look at the man whom she loved and wanted and wouldn’t have.

I forgive you, she said with a little laugh. I think I needed that one touch from you. It let me remember I’m still a woman that needs a man. It just can’t be you. The time will come when I’ll tell you things that will make you see why I’m like I am. I do want to say one thing now though. She stopped and looked hard at me. She raised her face in fierce determination. I waited.

Yes? I finally said.

Someday, not now, when the war is done or I should say when my own fighting is done, I want something from you. I want your child. I lost the one you gave me before and it almost destroyed me. It’s important to me that you say yes to this when the time comes for it. I’m not saying I can be together with you as we once were, but I can be with you for that. I want you to make me with child, Snup, your child.

She had surprised me. But something else tore at me. Was it a tinge of hope? Could she have a child with me that I didn’t share with her? Would it be enough to make her understand?

Don’t say anything now, Snup. I just want you to think about it. The time may never come, but maybe it will. And if it does, I’ll come back to you about it.

"You do love me," I said.

With my every bone and every part of me. I’ve never said anything different. Now go away for a while. I want to get back to work.

She turned to go but I had one more thing to say.

Palix, you deserve to know this too. I have sex fantasies about you. You arouse me to lust every time I see you, just like before.

Really? Then I’m not so weird after all. I have them about you too. It proves nothing. Sorry, I have to go now.

She walked away and I thought I could see a certain spring to her step. She was going to be alright. She had come a long way.

So Ashoma was right. Things had gone well. Now, taking in her long black body stretched out on the stone, I muttered my agreement, a simple yes. Looking at her filled me. I didn’t want to talk about Palix. At that moment I wanted to bask in the feeling of being blessed by Ashoma’s presence in my life.

Everyone must think I’m the luckiest man in the entire Valley, I said.

And why is that?

That you’re with me, that you allow me to love you, that you want me to make love to you. All of it.

She raised herself up and stared at me. Could it ever enter your mind, darling, that I feel the same? It’s called being in love with each other. With a lot of sex thrown in. She made a sound in her throat that turned me to clabber.

Does that mean you’ll never make love with another?

She lowered her head and frowned. Does that mean, Snydur, that you’ll never make love with anyone but me? Don’t be silly. I’ll admit I was a little jealous when we came into the Challory and those women—such sexy women—threw themselves at you. That young one, Dotiji it was. That kiss she laid on you with her lush body pasted on yours, I saw how you reacted. You’ve been with her before. That was plain enough. And those other two, Lyri and the Nam one—sweet Dwil!—I know that if I weren’t there they would have lured you to a perfection that would be pumping away inside them soon enough. I know you. I’m not so different after all. Palix and I, well, you know about that.

But I like what you said.

What? When?

When Lyri said that my room was ready for me and then said that, since you were of the Circle, Ylsi would find a bed for you. What you said then, you remember. You said, ‘That’s alright, I’ll be sleeping with your champion’.

Oh. It gave me a certain thrill to see their reaction. What did that Dotiji say to that? Hooie fooie, that’s what she said. She’s really sweet, isn’t she? I thought the Nam beauty—Mixtoo, yes?—was actually going to crack a smile. And Lyri, she just laughed, maybe a little embarrassed. But I really don’t know how you can turn that one down, Lyri I mean. Oh my, such skin, so smooth, so milky white, such maidens, such round lovely hips and thighs, such eyes, like emerald fire. She’s a bit up there isn’t she? You’ve danced with her too, all three of them, haven’t you? I can picture it. Nice.

You find her sexy?

Goodness, Snydur, I’m not blind. Is her flesh as tender as it seems?

You would like to have sex with her.

I think I could find the time for her. Black on white. But you needn’t worry. She could never give me as much as the man I love, the man who can fill up the inside of me and take me to the top of the mountains, all the way to Dwil and the stars.

I closed my eyes. I wanted to take her right there on a hard rock, right there in the sun.

I asked, Are you thirsty? Are you ready for a long drink of cool water?

Do you think we can find a nice shady place somewhere among these rocks, a place with soft, shady ground to rest our tired bodies on?

I’m sure of it. Shall we look?

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Early the next morning Ashoma and I went over to the Circle and met Bruc’s man who would lead us down the road to the south to the safe station near Shurship Mawm. He was, we were told, one of the two who had set the station up originally, and he would validate us. No names were exchanged when we met him or afterwards. It was, I knew, one of Bruc’s regulations; a matter of standard procedure, whether those involved knew each other or not, were at the same level or not, that names were not to be used. Still, the man knew who I was and I had seen him at one time or another. To my knowledge he had never seen Ashoma and didn’t know her name or what she was doing with me. I believe he thought she was along because she was my lover. He may not have liked the idea, but he was in Bruc’s service and he wouldn’t question it.

We met him a little later at a house on the southern edge of the village. Since Ashoma and I carried weapons, we were led to the house by back alleys and obscure paths by a boy of about twelve or so, a nephew of the man we were to meet as it turned out. Once at the house the man led us through its backyard onto a path that turned towards the road maybe a stroll away. He explained that from that point on no gook patrols would likely be found.

We can make good time now, he said. If we do run across any gooks, we’ll have to kill them and hide their bodies, but they don’t come down this way.

We saw no enemies. I counted eight homes, farmhouses it seemed with barns and outhouses, on the way. We came to a divide in the road and we took the one that angled to the west. We had gone maybe three walks, not quite that, when we reached our destination. It was a compound of buildings set off to our right, one fairly large house, one smaller one, a barn, and several small sheds that appeared to be grinet roosts. The entire compound was surrounded by a three-stride tall, closely woven wire fence. Within the fence it seemed to me there were a thousand grinets wandering about, chucking and pecking at the unevenly grassed ground. There was a sign near the road that said EGGS in small black letters.

Ashoma had been silent the entire trip. She had a smile in her eyes and faintly on her lips. Her thoughts were somewhere else. I knew where they went and I didn’t intrude. I also relished the memory of what had happened the previous afternoon.

After we had returned from our time on the slopes of Nnoor and took our showers, we lay on the bed in our room and I fell into a soft nap. It was not late, just a bit past mid afternoon, when I awoke refreshed. Ashoma was not there. I got up, tinked, washed my face, dressed, and went looking for her.

As I made my way down the walkway that hung over the garden, I heard the sounds of swishing movements and mutterings from the swawl. The women were obviously quite active, perhaps exercising or practicing tangling. I found them dancing instead, Ashoma in her blue dancer’s dress, barefoot, among them. I stood and watched, enthralled as always by the precision and elegance of their movements. Then the dance changed in an unexpected manner.

Dotiji pulled off her dress and began a series of liquid movements of her own devising and the women danced around her. She twirled and threw up her legs and held her arms towards me and swung away. It was clear she was dancing for me. I crossed my arms over my chest, nodded, and smiled broadly at her.

She retreated into the group and Mixtoo came forward, pulled off her dress, slowly, tantalizingly, in a manner that could only be understood as an invitation. She didn’t smile, she never did, but she held a hand out towards me to let me know, as had Dotiji, that her dance was for me. She swayed and the vines curled up her thighs and blossomed onto her splendor and she turned her head up to the sky and her place was taken by Lyri.

Lyri smiled broadly at me and her dress came off suddenly in some magical way and she slowed her movements to a languorous curling of white hips and white splendor that was so lustfully explicit that I was almost embarrassed. She still had a band around her maidens but now that came off with a whip-like snap and the ripeness of those mounds and the invitation of her witches made my tongue slick with a gush of saliva. As she moved her hands over her maidens and then held them out to me, I shook my head at her, not as denial, but as a sign of my incredulity. I mouthed a kiss towards her. The graceful movements of the others who swayed around her were also clearly improvised but every step and swing they made fit each thing she did and enhanced it.

I was shocked, I must admit it, by what happened next. Ashoma came forward and her dress went high into the air and fluttered down at Lyri’s feet. She began her own distinctively Rusc dance as Lyri retreated. After the body of milky whiteness that preceded her, her utter blackness was startling. She began by pumping her arms forward and grunting to increase the tempo. Her warrior’s body bent swiftly and seemed for a moment to pull her off center. There was a gasp from the others as though she might topple over, but I had seen her way of dancing before and I had no such worry. Remarkably as always, she hung suspended and fell easily into a balanced turn and twist. It was magnificent and seductive to a point that brought the other dancers to a halt. They swayed in place enthralled. Ashoma held their attention with her rapid contortions that were not contortions at all. She bent low, holding her open hands toward me, and I suddenly understood the meaning of what was happening. Each of the four that had bared themselves for me were announcing to the world that they had shared my love-making, had given themselves to me, and were celebrating their having done so.

As the other dancers stood swaying, Ashoma turned to Lyri and held out her hand and Lyri moved close to her, almost touching, and took up the dance with her. The tempo slowed to a languorous pace. The intricacy of their responses to each other seemed so effortless and precise as to be rehearsed, yet there was nothing about the moves they made that seemed anything but fresh, created on the spot, driven by the sense of rightness that arose moment by moment. It was such an obvious attunement of their bodies and feelings to one another that it transformed itself into—I search for the proper words—crystallized desire, that’s as close as I can get. ra Shohli and mi Mohnoo it was all over again, dancing just for each other, seducing each other, but black swirling around white this time, eyes bright and open, black and green eyes, glistening black skin and tossing red hair, a duet of such exquisite sensitivity that I could hardly accept what I was seeing. Ashoma would have her way with Lyri, that was no longer, if it ever had been, in doubt, and it was equally clear that Lyri hungered for the dark flesh of her partner with a eagerness that matched that of Ashoma’s obvious appetite for the creamy milk and wild honey that swirled about her. Their recognition and understanding of each other, of what was taking place, was so painfully intimate that, if I had not been held in such helpless thrall by the vision, I would have looked away.

But then the dialogue of their bodies ended and they stepped away and stood among the others and didn’t look back at each other. Lyri had a strange smile on her face and she stood there, perfectly still, and looked down at the floor. Ashoma found herself in the embraces of those about her, but she glanced over to me and her eyes were wide and shining. I held my arms towards her and she came to me in a rush. Someone handed her the dress that she had flung into the air and I took it from her and pulled it over her head and let it fall down over a body filmed with the sweetness of her sweat. The women were watching us.

I saw something then that made me melt. There was such an aura of delight among those women of the blue dance that I understood at once that the display I had witnessed, from its beginning when I arrived until the end, from the first disrobing by Dotiji throughout the exhibition of creativity by each of the four naked women in turn, was a celebration for them, an affirmation in their own unique and extraordinarily sensual way of the warmth and wonder and love they had for each other and for me. I can only hope that when I turned to them and looked at each in turn and clasped my hands together and bowed my head they understood how very grateful and honored I felt.

Ashoma whispered in my ear, If you start crying, I’ll never forgive you.

Later that night in our bed I said to her, Lyri?

She smiled. She knew what I was asking.

It’ll happen someday, she replied. No rush. We have an understanding.

Obvious to everyone I would think.

Oh yes. It’s something for everyone to anticipate with delight and get excited about. Makes Challory life interesting, you know.

Don’t you want to go to her now?

No, not the right time. Anyhow I have but one thought now, my love. Are you up for it?

It’s not so long ago we exhausted each other.

Are you up for it?

After what I had been treated to in the swawl, how could I not be?

So it was that with such thoughts and bright images of past delights we arrived at the safe station.

The compound was secluded among a stand of shade trees not quite a stroll to the west of the road and no more than a stroll from the blank rear of a building that faced Shurship Mawm. The large house in the compound was the home of a family of five, a Cusc family, something I discerned immediately though no one offered any such designation nor even a first name. That they were Cuscs intrigued me since I had had little to do with members of that smallish group. Visti had been Cusc, but I had never had close relations with another. They were a short, black-haired group, somewhat stout and well-nourished, probably on plenty of eggs and grinet stew. After Ashoma and I were certified, the man that came forward to welcome me took our hands and offered us drink and food. We accepted water.

I wanted to make our plans known quickly. We will, if you will allow us, spend the night here and then we would appreciate being directed to the next safe station to the west early next morning. We hope it’s possible to be led there in such a way that we won’t be accosted by whatever gooks or others may want to waylay us.

The man nodded eagerly. Such arrangements must be made by the one who commands us. My aunt. She waits in the small house behind this one.

I requested a visit with her as soon as possible. He ushered us to the back door of the house and pointed across the yard. His wife and two of his children, a boy and a girl of about twelve or thirteen who struck me as twins stood behind us and watched us make our way to the small house.

The door opened as we approached and a woman a bit past fifty perhaps waved us inside. When we entered she turned and faced us. We stood for a few moments just looking at each other. She was fleshy, big breasted, but not fat. Her face was wide, slightly jowled, and her black hair, spotted with gray, was piled carelessly on top of her head. She was clad in a simple faded bobot. Her eyes were slightly filmed, which should have indicated that she had trouble seeing, yet the black of her pupils bored into us as she looked us up and down.

She pursed her lips. So, she said, I finally get to meet the famous Snydur Pup and the beautiful Ashoma Rusc. Come on into my room here and have a seat. Something to drink? Her voice was clipped but surprisingly melodious.

Ashoma was startled at being recognized. Thank you, she managed to say. We just had what we needed. Good cool water.

After we were seated I said, You know who we are. You expected us. Somehow you got word.

She smiled but said nothing.

I know of but one way that could be, I persisted. There is a group that knows these things and likes to inform their sisters.

She kept smiling. I waited for some response. Eventually, she obliged.

Yes. If I were one of those, I would know. Such a group as you refer to have their lines of truth throughout the Valley, or so I’ve been told.

I have met a number of your sisters, seven to be exact, now eight.

She stared at me for a few moments, pursed her lips, and then gave a two-snap bark of laughter. You are presumptuous. Well, so be it. I know two of your seven or rather I did. Rromi and Almai. They were knots, as am I, so I knew them. I know of the others of course, but have never touched them. Her face crumbled for a moment. We lose our best. Almai was important.

Knots?

Lines cross, Snydur Pup. Sometimes several cross in one spot. Those are called knots. You see, our lines are not as tight as you might think. Some of us can only touch across a margin, barely that, while others touch farther. The strength of our truthing rests with the web and not with any one person.

It came to me then. Of course! Sulva’s range was short, maybe just past the Crossroads. That probably meant she was new to the group. So maybe she had to go to Ferkin Market to contact Donali. She knew of her but not how to touch her. It made some sense, but still why couldn’t she have…

I said, "You are very generous with your secrets. None of your sisters have ever been so open and I’m gratified. I have to conclude, however, that someone up near Sah Lomantha is also a sister. You don’t have to say. But what do you mean your truthing? I’m familiar with that term only in another context."

Ah. Well, surely you know that the group we speak of is concerned with learning and transmitting the truth about things. Then you must also know that the interest is not in the truth itself, for its own sake. The interest is in transmitting it, making it known. It’s not the truth, but the truthing of it that is the concern. And the analogy with sex is fairly obvious, isn’t it?

Learn me.

Snup—can I call you Snup or would you rather I called you Snydur? . . .

Snup’s fine.

Good. Now think about it, Snup. Sex of any real importance is not something that has the purpose of producing something, a truth, but its worth lies in the doing, the truthing that includes it. What’s precious lies in the transmission, the sharing, the giving. It’s the same with truths that may be spoken. It’s the sharing of them that counts. Do you see?

I chuckled with pleasure. Ashoma said, Of course.

So keep it in mind, she continued. "Mere knowing has no value at all, just as sexual truth arrived at by oneself or just for oneself is merely pleasurable, not something precious. What counts is wisdom, which is never merely knowing but coming to know and sharing."

And you, madam, are a very wise woman. I could learn much from you.

Perhaps. You could also learn these things from Ashoma. Her manner of being with you should tell you that. Now doesn’t it?

I looked over at Ashoma. She looked back at me and smiled smugly. She nodded. I nodded