Chapter 9.
The Broga.
In order to travel to the Western Sea you must venture through a place the Nomads call Gardoo, this is a high concentration of snow-capped mountains and rocky canyons that are cut with passages made by long ago humans, they are also the dwelling place of the Broga, small mostly harmless hairy humanoids that live in the many great caves and fallen structures that dot the inhospitable landscape. In the old language of the Nomads the name Gardoo means harmless, but it is a fact that all things change in the universe and the land of Gorn is not immune to that law.
From the writings of Oshismarie Inastro Sistashion.
The coming days passed quietly in the Land of Plenty, there were still strange manifestations in the sky, wind and rain, the Trofar grew fat as did the Whiptails and Spikebacks and it would not be a lie to say that the Nomads found great contentment in food and drink as well. Soon the Outlanders grew restless, for they knew that they could not spend their lives in one place even a place as inviting as Jedar, so when fights began to break out amongst the warriors Arn knew that it was from boredom and it was time to depart and travel to the Western Sea. But before that could be accomplished there was something that must be done or they would not be welcomed by the riders of the waves.
The Sea People or Akuna as they called themselves were masters of the water but on land they lacked the equipment necessary to travel a great distance for they had no large creatures that could pull a wagon but they were always in need of tall masts for their sailing ships and although they had access to great Balbar trees they were too massive and twisted to be of any use. But in the Land of Plenty there were tall straight trees that were perfect for their enormous ships so the Nomads selected the best of them and cut them down with their sharp axes, once fallen they constructed great wheeled carriers for each tree, it was no easy task for they were the homes of Arrow-tails, swift flying creatures that can inflict a nasty wound and with the warming weather the deadly Sun-droppers were beginning to circle but they rarely attacked when there were a large number of warriors, the Nomads also needed to build a tower to hoist the huge trunk high enough in the air so that the carriages could be drawn under them and then slowly lowered into place, they worked fast but carefully but still there was danger. The carriages where huge, their massive wheels were many times the height of a Nomad, but the Holy Wagon had such wheels, so constructing them was not something new. The chains used to fix the huge trunks to the carriages and to attached to the Trofars were forged by the Ironworkers, this took them most of the winter but the Land of Plenty had a place where Eulmar, molten rock bubbled to the surface, it mostly consisted of raw iron from deep within the planets core, it was not hard enough for making weapons, for that task they needed Itarian steel from the Outlands, but it was good enough for pulling chains and it was in great abundance. They worked long and hard pounding the hot metal into the links then forging them together in long strong chains, it was very hard work but the Ironworkers were used to that and it help pass the long winter days.
As the last of the great trees were being loaded a tower support broke and the heavy trunk came crashing to the ground, three Nomads were killed and several wounded, the dead were buried with honor for they had died for their tribe and everyone was sure that they would have a place in the Golden Hall of Isarie in the Afterlife. But at last the great trees were lashed to their carriers and with strong Trofar pulling them they would be able to travel to the land of the Akuna. Now with everything in place and the wagons loaded, the Almadra once again were about to set out on their never-ending journey.
Arn sat on his Whiptail at the head of his tribe and beside him as always was Andra his mate, they both wore their traveling armor and helmets, hanging from their saddles were the great battle axes or Tooth as the Nomads called them that were never far from their strong hands. The King looked back at his clan to make sure that all was in readiness then he turned to the woman beside him. “Do you know the way to the sea?” Arn asked. Andra took a moment to look up at the sky and then at the surrounding land before her, “Yes” she said pointing to her left, “We need to go in that direction”.
This brought a smile to the lips of the King for he knew that the power to know where you were at all times is what made the Outlanders masters of Gorn and what kept all others from invading for only a Nomad had that ability and there was no electronic device or ground mapping that would give that power to the Half-soul outsiders, and now Andra also had that gift for the mind-link between them grew stronger each day and the Selcarie girl was able to travel as well as any planet bred Nomad.
“How long will it take to reach the sea?” the girl asked as she adjusted herself in the saddle.
“Many days and nights” the King replied as he looked up at the day moons, “there are countless dangers to be faced and many prayers to be said before we smell the salt of the water”.
Danger and prayer Andra thought with a smile for she knew that those two things were always a part of a Nomads life.
Arn raised his hand to the sky, “FORWARD!” he shouted and his command was quickly echoed by the warriors and soon the wagons of the Almadra rolled to the West.
They traveled past the great lake and onto the winding path through the mountains of Gardoo, this took several days and the road was difficult but with everyone doing their duty they managed. Once or twice a wagon wheel would break but it was quickly repaired and they moved on. Pulling the great trees was an arduous task for they were heavy and unwieldy, but the Trofars hitched to them were well-fed and strong and never slowed even as the path turned upward adding to the weight of their burden.
As they rode side by side Osh and Alune began to speak at greater lengths, at first the conversations were regulated to the matters at hand, the condition of the path, the well fare of their Trofar and what was being prepared for the evening meal, this seemed to be a sore spot between them for Alune prided herself on her cooking as well as the old man, and they often disagreed about how much Ulon spice should be added or how long to cook Rimar meat and his dislike of Fish-sauce but the strong willed woman frequently won the argument and although Osh would have never admitted it her choice was often the correct one. But what made the Callaxion the angriest was the fact that Alune never believed him when he began explaining the facts of the universe.
“There’re are thousands of habitable worlds in this section of the outer rim and each one has their own spiritual beliefs and they all believe that their god is the greatest of all, so it stands to reason that one cannot disregard another’s religion solely on the fact that they don’t believe as you do” Osh seemed very proud of his remarks and sat smiling at his companion as she held the reins of their Trofar. Alune had listened to the misguided words of the old man beside her and did not speak, what can one expect from a half-soul, they are not the chosen of Isarie. Then she turned and looked him in the face, “Isarie is the Goddess of the universe and because we are her Chosen, we follow her will”. She said proudly.
The old Callaxion wanted to say more but he knew it was useless; she is just an old woman he thought, but as he looked at her something stirred in his heart, he had felt this before when he looked at Andra or his Sandjar son Endo, he had long ago admitted to himself that he was capable of having feelings for someone even if it went against his training as an Interface, and being a man of logic he had placed his feeling for the Salcarie girl in the trusted friends category, perhaps a bit more, and as for his adopted son that was something far greater, that he had to admit was what they called love.
He once heard his mind say a universe of knowledge is nothing without love, but he was sure that he was not capable of having such feeling for this woman no matter how attractive he found her. Then he turned his head away and rubbed his bandaged hand.
“Is your hand itching?” Alune asked. Osh nodded his head (yes) and continued to scratch his bandaged hand.
“That is good” the woman replied.
The
se words made the old man angry and this time he did speak loudly, “so you want me to suffer, do you? A fine nurse you are”. Alune was not familiar with the word “nurse” but she understood what her companion was saying, “I am a Touchtenders chosen by Horcon and well skilled in the healing arts, I have cared for many warriors, Elders and Frail-legs, I know all the seven hundred and seventy three herbs of the Outlands and Yemon the wise was my mentor, there is no one greater in the ways of healing potions then I, your hand itches because it is mending, a few more days and you will be well again and able to travel alone once more”, there was a pause as the old women let her words sink into the stubborn mind of her companion then she spoke again, “and we will be having Rimar soup with Fish-sauce for the evening meal!”
Osh was about to say something but caught himself, do not speak for it would only be a useless endeavor, she is….? And yet again a strange feeling began to tug at his heart.