Enoch presumed that he had already been on the receiving end of this weapon and would do anything to prevent it from happening again.
“Siyeruh,” one of the men said, nodding his head to the north.
Looking into the man’s eyes, which were almost black, Enoch understood exactly what to do, even though he didn’t understand their language. With his hands fastened behind him, he began to carefully make his way through the grass.
One of the men ran ahead and Enoch paused to see what he was doing. This only provoked another man to jab his weapon into Enoch’s back.
“Siyeruh,” the man behind him repeated.
Enoch saw now that the man in front was leading the way, and picked up his pace to match him.
CHAPTER 6
BAHYITH
Sariel sat on one of the rocks arranged in a circle at the center of the Chatsiyr village. Across from him sat the elder and his brothers, the other senior members of the tribe. The pale orange of the setting sun carved out shadows among their stern faces, making them appear even less friendly than during their previous visit. As was customary, the women of the tribe waited on the men, bringing the evening meal wrapped in a thick, broad leaf, tied into a bundle with a long strand of grass.
How quickly things change!
Despite their earlier hostility, the hospitality of the Chatsiyram was lavish when one was invited by the elder. Earlier in the morning, from the moment Sariel entered the village, he was treated like a cherished object. The children ran up to him and began to touch the skin of his arms and legs, wondering at his paleness. He recognized some of them from their playtime at the nearby stream. The same boy, who had originally led him into the village, again took his hand and seemed content to just walk alongside. Sariel instantly took a liking to the child.
After the children were shooed away, the men casually led Sariel around their village, showing him how things were arranged. They enjoyed bragging to him about their building skills which were, indeed, impressive. Their living structures, set back from the central meeting area, were also made entirely from trees and grasses, but were more elaborate, with windows and multiple rooms. The men held back from discussing anything important, but Sariel knew that the time would eventually come.
After a few hours, he was then entrusted to the care of the women where he observed their food gathering responsibilities. Being herbivores, they foraged in the nearby forests, fields, and riverbanks for anything edible. Whatever they gathered, they brought back to the village to be prepared later in the evening.
Sariel sat now with the result of this work in his hands, given to him by one of the elder’s other daughters. Normally, the wives and daughters would work together, with all the females attending to the needs of the patriarch of each immediate family. But with a guest among them, the responsibilities of the elder’s daughters were conferred upon Sariel. It was a custom that should have excited him. But there was no sign of Sheyir. He’d felt distracted all day, constantly looking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of her. Now, he was beginning to wonder if she had been locked away somewhere, punished for making contact with a stranger before the elder had allowed it.
Sariel looked methodically from face to face among the crowd that had gathered around them, searching while he waited for the men to initiate the meal.
The elder began to untie the bundle.
Sariel momentarily gave up looking to concentrate on the task at hand, mimicking the actions of the tribe leader. The dark green leaf slowly unwound to reveal a moist clump of vegetables that had been soaked in water, then mashed. Sprinkled over the top were small pieces of dried fruits and nuts.
The men dug their fingers into the paste and lifted it to their mouths.
Sariel watched, then followed their example. When the paste entered his mouth, his tongue exploded with various sensations he’d never experienced before. In the Eternal Realm, all things were sustained by the Spirit of the Holy One. But in the Temporal, other methods had to be devised for maintaining life—food was a necessity here. Sariel moved the sticky substance around in his mouth to experience it more fully, then swallowed it quickly. He wasn’t sure if the tastes were pleasurable, but they were vivid.
Looking up, he realized that the seniors of the tribe were staring intently at him, presumably waiting for his approval or disapproval of their food. He smiled in return and dug his fingers into the clump for another bite.
Without warning, Sheyir stepped from behind him and held out a cup of liquid. Her long, black hair caught the last rays of the sun like the shimmering surface of a lake. Her smooth, young skin was earthen in color, with warm undertones. Like the rest of the females in the Chatsiyr tribe, her body was clothed in a sleeveless, knee-length covering, expertly woven from plant fibers.
Sariel felt his face flush. He quickly reached up and took the drink, moving it immediately to his lips to cover up the expression on his face that must have been obvious to everyone sitting around the circle. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to compose himself while the cold liquid slid down his throat. When he was finished, he handed the cup back to Sheyir and nodded with the same dismissive expression that he’d observed in every male and female interaction throughout the day. Then he proceeded to take another bite, trying very hard not to notice when Sheyir turned and left the group.
When the moment had passed, Sariel looked up.
The elder and the other men were just finishing their food. Their faces wore the same expressions. The movements of their bodies were unchanged. No one had seemed to notice.
The elder wiped the food from his mouth and beard with the back of his hand, then set down his leaf which had been scraped clean. He proceeded to clear his throat and then wait for the women to remove the remains of the meal. The women worked efficiently with the commonplace task and when the men were the only ones left around the ring of stones, the elder turned to Sariel. The sun was halfway below the horizon now and his face was nearly lost in the darkness, with only his eyes and the upper part of his face reflecting the orange light.
“You asked me what my dathrah has shown me.”
Sariel leaned forward and nodded his head.
“I have seen that some things are within my control, and some things are not.”
Sariel waited patiently for the man to make his point, which seemed like it would be a long time coming.
“I have seen tehrah that is beyond my strength. This is a danger to my people.”
Evil? Sariel translated to himself.
Sheyir’s father paused now, perhaps choosing his words carefully, or taking one last opportunity to assess the stranger. His expressionless face was difficult to read.
“The young men have seen your dathrah. If you do not mean us harm … if you speak truth when you say you have come to help, then I have a task for you.”
I like where this is going. Sariel nodded again.
The elder continued. “At the end of these mountains, where they stretch toward the water, is a place called Arar Gahiy, the Valley of the Curse. In this valley is Armayim, the Lake of the Curse. In this place we can no longer walk; I have forbidden it. It is too dangerous for my people. In the morning, the young men will take you. They will not go into Arar Gahiy. You will go alone. You will see if your dathrah shows you what I have seen. Then you will return and tell me what you saw. You will tell me if your dathrah is strong enough to help my people.”
Sariel waited for a moment to make sure that the elder was finished talking. After a brief silence, he responded. “Thank you for your trust. I will do as you ask and if there is a way to help your people, I will.”
The elder neither smiled, nor frowned. Without breaking eye contact, he stood up, apparently satisfied with the conclusion of the discussion. The other senior tribe members rose with him and Sariel stood as well.
“You have been shown where you will sleep.” the elder stated.
“Yes,” Sariel replied, assuming it was a question. “But I will stay
here for a while and think on the things you have told me.”
This time, the elder nodded, then turned and walked into the darkness.
When the men were gone, Sariel sat down again and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
Valley of the Curse? I wonder what he means. … an evil that is beyond my strength?
While he meditated on the discussion, a presence nearby interrupted his thoughts. Turning, he could barely make out the form of someone standing a short distance away.
“I did not tell them,” she said softly.
Sheyir!
Her voice was like the song of water gliding over smooth stones in a creek. It was gentle, clear, and complex. “About our first meeting?” he clarified.
“Yes,” she replied simply.
“I must apologize to you. I didn’t mean to frighten you. That is the last thing I want.”
Sheyir’s faint silhouette came a step closer. She remained quiet for a moment while her head turned from side to side. “You said you have come a long way to see me.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Men do not seek after women,” she countered softly, almost in a whisper.
Sariel smiled. “Not among the Chatsiyram. But I am not from your tribe, and you already know that I am not a man.”
His statement seemed to hang in the air for an eternity, without a response.
“Do you know what I am?” he asked finally.
“My people tell stories of the Baynor. They used to walk the earth, but not for many years.”
Children of Light, he translated to himself, smiling at the confident way she presented her opinions, not unlike her father. “It is not far from the truth,” he admitted. “And what do the rest of your people think I am?”
Sariel could almost feel a change in her demeanor. Though he couldn’t see it, he imagined she was smiling. And in that tiny fraction of time, he promised himself that he would give his life to make her smile more often.
“They say that you are an elder without a tribe.”
“This is also not far from the truth,” he replied.
Sheyir’s head lowered for a moment, then came up again. Slowly, her outline backed away until it melded with the darkness.
Sariel listened to the faint sound of her feet retreating, unhurriedly, across the soil. He smiled to himself as he looked up to the night sky, now beginning to sparkle with the appearance of the stars. It seemed that so much had transpired in such a short amount of time. But that was the way of things in the Temporal Realm. So far, he liked his new home.
* * * *
NORTHEAST OF SEDEKIYR
Through the mist, the ominous silhouette of Gadol Har-Marah darkened the northeastern horizon. As Enoch moved through the cold, wet grass, a shiver moved through his body. It wasn’t the chill in the air that filled him with fear, but the oppressive aura of the dense forest that loomed overhead, blocking the sky.
With hands tied behind his back, he trudged onward, following the lead of his captors as he had for the last day and a half. No one had said more than a few words and Enoch knew better than to speak to them. Instead, he kept his head down, his feet moving, and his thoughts inclined toward the Holy One.
Then, just as he had settled into this routine, odd shapes began to emerge from the fog and the men began to speak amongst each other. As they drew near, Enoch realized that the conical structures dotting the landscape were dwellings. It was a village. The homes, perhaps a hundred in all, consisted of long, wooden poles leaned against one another and wrapped in the same reptile hide as the sparse clothing his captives wore. From the openings at their peaks, thin lines of smoke rose into the sky.
Almost immediately, the village inhabitants came out to greet the small procession. The women were naked except for necklaces of long, pointed teeth that radiated about their necks. Around their wrists and ankles, they wore an assortment of bones strung together with strips of hide. Their hair was long, black, and coarse, gathered into a single braid that ran down to the lower back.
Embarrassed by their immodesty, Enoch kept his eyes on the ground, wondering if the men would untie him now that they had arrived. Abruptly, something hard glanced off his leg. Enoch quickly looked up at the gathering crowd of women and noticed that most of them were holding rocks or sticks. As one of the men pushed him forward through the crowd, another rock hit him in the cheek and he flinched.
This show of fear was met with a growing chorus of vibrating screeches that cut through the air. The women appeared to be growing more agitated by the second. Then, the stones began to fly through the air. Enoch tucked his face toward his shoulder, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop the rocks from pelting his skin. Between the small, sharp jabs cutting into his flesh, he also felt the heavier impact of the sticks against his arms and legs. Within seconds, the pain was unbearable.
He started to fall and felt a powerful grip on his arm suddenly lift him back to his feet and force him forward. With his eyes closed and his head turned, he struggled through a mass of tangled limbs until he bumped into something more solid.
A large man towered above the women. He stared hard into Enoch’s eyes for a moment, then struck him in the face.
Enoch felt his legs go limp and he crashed to the ground. Dozens of other blows glanced off his extremities, feeling weak by comparison, until someone kicked his exposed ribs, making his body spasm in pain.
When the beating finally stopped, Enoch’s feet were lifted off the ground. Too weak to resist, he simply opened his eyes and watched as the hunters proceeded to drag him. But the intense pain of his skin grinding across the rough soil brought him instantly out of his stupor. Fighting to sit up, he flopped from his side onto his back and tried to use his hands to push his body away from the jagged rocks that were tearing at his flesh.
Holy One, save me!
The men finally stopped in front of a larger dwelling encased in more colorful reptilian hides than those around it.
The hunters dropped his legs and Enoch rolled onto his side and rested his head on the bare earth. Breathing heavily and wincing at the pain, he feared what would happen next.
From inside the tent, the muffled sound of speaking could be heard. Moments later, a large flap of hide was pushed open and smoke billowed from the opening. One of the hunters came out, followed by an older man whose skin was painted white with ash. Circling his head was a crown of fanged teeth, stabbing upward toward the sky. When the older man spoke, his voice seemed rough and distant. The hunters replied quickly, perhaps answering his question.
Enoch struggled to make out anything intelligible from their speech, but their language was entirely foreign. He recognized one phrase that he also heard them speak after his capture, but he didn’t know the meaning of it.
When the elder turned back to his tent, the leader of the hunting party knelt down and pulled on the cords that bound Enoch’s hands. Laying a curved, sharpened bone against them, he severed the cords with a quick, violent movement.
Immediately, Enoch felt a rush of blood return to his fingers. He wondered briefly if the hunter had cut his skin, but when he pulled his hands in front of him and flexed his joints, he could see that the only wounds were the abrasions on his wrists and the cuts and scrapes on his palms from being dragged across the ground.
Before he could comprehend the sudden change in behavior of his captors, the hunter gently lifted him to his feet and led him toward a nearby stream.
Oh no; they’re going to drown me!
The hunting party sat him in the shallow water of a small pool.
Immediately, Enoch closed his eyes. Most Holy One of Heaven, he prayed silently. Let not Your servant perish at the hands of these ignorant people. Preserve my life so that I may continue to follow You. Cover me with the protection of Your hand.
When he opened his eyes, several women had gathered around him.
What are they doing?
They began to softly scoop up the cool wat
er and pour it on his skin. One of the women took his hands and submerged them, gently stroking his palms to clean away the blood.
“What are you doing to me?” he asked aloud. But no one answered. The women just quietly cleansed his body, while in the distance, the hunting party stood with their arms crossed.
CHAPTER 7
BAHYITH
With the sun rising over Bokhar—Morning Mountain, as it is called among the Chatsiyram—Sariel and three young men set out from the village and headed north along the river. Most of the people were already awake and had gathered along the banks to see them off, but Sheyir wasn’t among them. Sariel followed the lead of the others who moved across a field and into another stand of trees, then turned abruptly to the west and into the river. As they stepped into the cool, shallow water and waded across to the western shore where passage would be easier, Sariel couldn’t help but look back. To his relief, Sheyir was standing on the bank. The sun illuminated her from behind and she appeared as an ethereal being, as when Sariel had watched her from the Eternal Realm. He smiled and she smiled in return. It was a simple exchange, but enough to satisfy his need for some communication before their momentary parting. Hopefully, she understood that he was thinking about her, and would continue to do so until they saw each other again.
Turning around, Sariel set his mind to the task at hand and followed the young men through the water. For the next four days, they trekked downstream across rolling, grassy foothills. With few obstructions, they made quick progress through the valley that ran between Bokhar to the east, and Ehrevhar to the west. With the sun nearing the Evening Mountain on its descent, the men crossed back to the east side of the river at a wide ford and made their way into the foothills of Bokhar. As they ascended, the grassy lowlands gave way to thick tangles of trees which slowed their speed considerably. Just before sunset, they reached the summit of a rock outcropping that jutted from the dense vegetation and overlooked the valley to the north. From this vantage point, Sariel could see that the river turned slightly to the northeast and broke into dozens of streams until they rejoined at a large lake. The valley itself widened as it left the confines of the mountains.