Authors: J.H. Hayes
"Hi!" she responded, holding her arms out for a quick hug. "Where’ve you been all sun?"
"I was resting. I couldn't even walk after the race," he laughed. "I had to crawl around my shelter."
"Aaahhhh. I'm sorry. But you placed, right?" She patted his arm, laughing playfully.
"Thanks to you," he smiled back.
Bachtur decided Dogahn was getting too much attention. "Hey Azaria, how about that dance?"
"I'd love to dance," she responded, and then grabbed Dogahn's hand and pulled him away from the group, toward the massive throng around one of the bonfires. "You want to dance with me, don't you?" she asked, turning around to look up into his radiant, hazel eyes.
"Umm... yeah, sure," he responded, fidgeting nervously with his head band. Although he liked the idea of being so close to her, he really hadn’t planned on having to dance.
At least we'll get away from Bachtur,
he told himself, finding the thought comforting.
Daneel joined them soon after with Bachtur, which raised Azaria's eyebrows, but the four skipped and twirled and swung each other around while the music droned. Dogahn even took Bachtur for a spin, which surprised Bachtur immensely but had the girls doubled over laughing. More than one suitor, a few of them much older, tried to steal Azaria away, but she proved adept at keeping them at bay, with a little of Dogahn’s help.
Dogahn found he enjoyed himself far more than he'd imagined he would, realizing having Azaria in his arms all night wasn't that bad. After one particularly fast spin, she landed in his arms with her back to him. He wrapped his arms around, his hands resting on her stomach. When she tried to spin out he held tight. It might have been the effects of the brew she'd been drinking all night, but when Azaria realized he wanted her in his arms she decided she wanted to stay there too. He brought his head in close, inhaling deeply.
She smells so good,
he thought.
She fits perfectly in my arms. I want to stay like this all night.
As if she'd heard the thoughts inside his head, Azaria began to feel self-conscious.
Everyone is watching us
. More forcefully, she pushed off and when Dogahn realized she was trying to break away, he loosened his hold. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"What? Nothing's wrong. Why?" she asked, and then realizing he might be thinking she didn't want to be with him, added, "It's just... everyone is looking at us. You know?"
"Oh yeah, right..." he agreed. He hadn't actually noticed. He was too heavily focused on her. He was peering deeply into her eyes, enraptured by the soft almond shape of them surrounded by long lashes and the light coloring of her irises.
Her eyes are so beautiful. I don't know anyone with that shade.
She broke the gaze and he noticed her look away to something behind his left shoulder.
Her lips are so inviting,
he thought, and had to stop himself from kissing her right there.
She would stop me. There's too many people here watching us.
"Azaria," he whispered into her ear. "Let’s go someplace else. Where there aren't so many people watching us..." He wasn't sure if she'd agree and doubted himself, anxious at how she might react.
Azaria paused for a while thinking it through, and then smiled. "Okay. I'd love too."
"I know a place where we'll be alone," he said, struggling to keep his excitement from creeping too much into his voice.
"Let's fill our fists first. So it's not too obvious we're sneaking away."
"Umm, okay," he responded, hiding his lack of enthusiasm for the idea, afraid she might change her mind. "Why don't you go ahead? I'll meet you behind my shelter." He hoped she wouldn’t let herself get distracted if she knew he was waiting for her.
"Sounds perfect. I'll see you in a bit then," Azaria answered.
Yumineh watched Dogahn leave and then Azaria wander around as if she were looking for something, stopping to chat with various people who called out to her. One pair of young girls pointed Azaria in a certain direction and Yumineh watched her approach a table with several bags of poison, fill her fist and leave also. She knew what they were up to. She'd been watching Azaria all evening, envy boiling within. She watched as she arrived with her parents. Watched as the crowds cheered her and as Ta’araki ushered her away. Watched as Daneel and her stole all the attention for themselves. And watched jealously as Azaria dragged Dogahn away and kept him to herself, not dancing with anyone else so no other girl would get a chance with him.
And now she's sneaking off with him,
Yumineh smoldered.
Who knows what they're going to do by themselves? She'll probably put her tongue down his throat and let him put his hands all over her. I'm sure she'll let him - she'd do anything for the attention.
She was staring blankly down at the ground, the brew she'd been sipping all night heightening the grim thoughts coursing through her brain. She knew it wasn't healthy to let such negativity engulf one's self so thoroughly. Izyl had often chastened her for similar behavior. It was widely known evil spirits fed off such ominous thoughts, were drawn to them, like beasts to a water source. The spirits would overwhelm her and infect her soul, sending her body into a rotting state. But she couldn’t help herself. She'd endured too much disappointment. None of her hopes had turned out well. And it was all because of one person. One wicked, cheating, greedy, sneaking, pompous girl.
It should have been me dancing with Dogahn. It would’ve been, if she hadn't cheated. Of course you're allowed to pick your own path, but no one expected someone would jump off that cliff. That wasn't what was meant by the rules. She should've been disqualified. And then she had the gall to blame it on me? She did it to beat me? Why did she have to take it so personally? I didn't do anything to her. And then she dances all night with Dogahn. If she wasn't here, it would’ve been me dancing with him. It would’ve been me sneaking off with him, kissing him right now. It would’ve been my body pressed against his.
Yumineh realized she was crying and that people were probably staring at her. Suddenly embarrassed, she ran off towards her tent, wondering why she let herself get so worked up. Azaria wasn't worth it and neither was Dogahn. But the thought was little comfort. Her crush on Dogahn could not be cast aside so easily.
4
As the Pale Eye widened each night, Azaria’s departure for the Great Temple drew close. Her preparations for the upcoming duties kept her busy, leaving little opportunity to see Dogahn alone, although keeping her mind off that first wonderful night with him was proving difficult.
Thoughts of him seemed to surround her. When Quzo woke the morning before her departure, his messy hair reminded her of a tantrum he'd thrown a few suns earlier as Dogahn had greeted him by the river, tussling his hair. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered Quzo's irrational annoyance, throwing wild punches and then screaming as Dogahn picked her little brother up and tossed him into the river. Dogahn was constantly terrorizing the little ones. He was never mean-spirited though. Just having a little fun. She'd always thought it one of his more annoying traits, but at least he always seemed to treat her brother a little better than the others. And if anyone was ever bullying him, Dogahn would always step in.
She’d be at the Temple for over a full moon, arriving early for training and staying just until the next moon, when the new lot of girls would relieve her and her fellow attendants. On the morning before she'd be leaving, after the breakfast meal, her mother was yet again explaining what would be expected, emphasizing how important the work was.
"Azaria, don't forget to follow Izyl's orders carefully," Zephia repeated. "It's your duty to make the men as comfortable as possible while they work. You cannot refuse any reasonable request, unless you’re already helping someone else. Don't dote too long on any one worker, or the others will become jealous."
"I know, mother," Azaria responded. She'd heard different versions of these instructions from her mother already and also from Izyl, the beautiful Ta'araki from Fox Camp who was charged with preparing the girls for their servant duties.
"I'm sorry, dear," Zephia said. "I know you know. But like it or not, you’ll be looked upon to set an example for the other girls and-" a harsh cough interrupted her mid-sentence.
"Are you sure you’re okay, mother? Can father do nothing about that cough?"
"Oh, don't get me started. He has me drinking all kinds of putrid concoctions. The most recent tastes like it sat in the forest for a moon."
"Mother, you have to listen to him and do what he tells you. He’s been trained and I'm sure he's getting advice from Fahim and the other Ta'araki."
"Now who's being lectured?" Zephia laughed. "That's what's so upsetting though. It's just a cough and will pass, as these things always do. There's no need for bothering Fahim or anyone else."
"Mother! Even I know a cough can lead to something more serious. Especially if there’s blood. Have you been spitting up blood?"
"I didn't know you were Ta'araki, Azaria," Zephia said, mocking her to avoid answering the question.
Embarrassed, Azaria lowered her head and responded quietly, "I'm not mother, but some things are common knowledge."
Zephia put the fox furs down that she'd been sewing together and squatted, raising Azaria's chin with her two forefingers. "I'm sorry for mocking you, daughter. But there are more important things to worry yourself with than a tiny, little cough. Your father loves me too much to let anything happen to me and I drink every horrible thing he puts in front of me, because I love him so much too. Okay?"
"Okay, mother," Azaria responded with a weak smile.
The two spent most of her last afternoon packing her traveling backsack for her first extended period away from her family. Since she’d be gone a full moon, she would need several outfits, light sleeping furs, all of her grooming instruments, spare bits of leather and fur - including those for her bleeding period - cooking utensils, traveling snacks, tools, her spears and other hunting equipment and baskets for gathering, among other things. Izyl had also brought by more items each of the girls were asked to carry. These included bowls, pots, furs, knives and many other heavy things useful for the servant work they’d be engaging in.
After their evening meal Azaria and her mother laid out each item, making sure nothing was forgotten nor unnecessarily brought before beginning the laborious process of packing them all in her backsack. With the exhaustive preparations complete, she finally fell into her furs. But sleep proved evasive, as her mind was filled not with expectations of her upcoming trip, but of how much she wanted to stay, or how she wished Dogahn would be there too.
---
A troop of over three hundred Natu walked together along the river-side path leading to the Great Temple. The early morning sun shone in their faces as they marched, obscuring much of what lay ahead. Dikshar, the lead Ta'araki of Swan Camp, led the way with two hundred or so workers following behind. Trailing them was Hadir, the junior Ta'araki of Boar Camp. Eufrat, the Third Ta'araki of Fox Camp walked with him. Next followed the young women who’d support the men as they worked. Izyl reared the procession, watching over the girls who were her charge. Together, all the Natu camps would be represented as they built and improved on the Great Temple complex - a force nearing a thousand workers including their supporting complement.
Everyone had a chance to rest when they reached their destination in the early afternoon. After a repose, the young women were given instructions on properly cleansing themselves in preparation for entering the Temple. An orientation followed. Fahim would be giving them a lecture on the significance of the sacred structure, followed by specific directions from Izyl on what they should be doing before first duties began in the morning. Those who had participated in the work in past summers would have to sit through it again. The Ta'araki believed a refresher would remind them of the urgency of their duties and serve as a point of motivation. But none of the returning girls ever agreed with that opinion.
They gathered in the field to the northeast of the Temple, in front of the long shelter the Ta'araki resided in. Azaria guessed they must have been the last group to arrive, as there were hundreds of other Natu girls and men already there, setting up their tents, preparing food or just milling around. It was more people than Azaria had ever seen before and the sheer number awed her, even frightened her a little. Although the summer sun shone harshly, the encircling groves of cedar and oak helped moderate the temperature. The young women Azaria had journeyed with sat talking amongst themselves, waiting for Fahim to emerge.
When the senior Ta'araki eventually came out, the girls quieted quickly, either out of respect, fear, genuine interest or some combination thereof. "Ladies, thank you for coming," Fahim addressed them.
"Like we had a choice," Daneel snapped under her breath, inciting the surrounding girls to snicker. Fahim turned sharply to her, glaring as Daneel crescendoed through darker hues of red.
Finally, as if satisfied she’d reached the deepest shade of fiery crimson possible, Fahim continued, "The significance of the work you will be performing during your tenure here cannot be understated. What we have achieved so far could not have been completed without those young women who've come before you and it would be impossible to continue without you. You should all be very proud of your mothers and grandmothers. Your daughters will enjoy that same pride in you." Fahim wasn't generally known for injecting much emotion into her speeches, but Azaria could feel a tingle crawl up her spine as she listened to the old woman. She clearly was capable of some amount of passion when addressing a subject she cared about.
"Be assured the Ta'ar are taking note of your contributions. Some of you may be wondering why we expend so many resources building this stunning Temple. There are two fundamental reasons. One is to demonstrate our appreciation for all They have given. We express our dedication and devotion through the sacrifice ritual. The second, and no less important, is the excarnation ritual. The excarnation frees the soul to rise up and be accepted by the Watchers. You have all been taught that when your physical self fails, your existential self becomes trapped. The Great Birds, who are the Ta'ar's mediaries, cleanse the soul of the body allowing it to ascend and join Them."
Azaria sat in rapt attention. She’d of course heard this all before, but rarely explained so well. It all made so much sense.
And the Great Vulture circles above us at night, watching over us, searching for new souls for the Minions to cleanse.
She’d never found it so captivating and began to feel a new appreciation for the work ahead. She looked forward to learning more during the tour of the complex.
"Before we enter the Great Temple, are there any questions?" Fahim asked. Azaria wanted to know more, but disliked the idea of drawing attention to herself. When none of the other girls spoke either, Fahim continued, "Good. I'm pleased you all understand. Now, get up and follow me."
They made their way up the gentle slope, following Fahim to the Temple structure where Azaria had witnessed the Kebar's grizzly execution. The outermost part of the structure was a surrounding, thick stone wall, built of small limestone bricks, each about the length of a man's forearm and the width and height roughly equal to the breadth of his fist. A duplicate wall stood inside it, about the same height as a man standing straight, about a pace and a half thick. Brick steps allowed the only entry to the heart of the Temple. Attached and perpendicular to the inner, ovalish wall were a series of massive, standing limestone slabs, each shaped somewhat like the upper part of the letter "T". The central segment of each slab was almost as deep as the wall and the overhanging segments extended out about the length of a man's foot, with one of these extensions directly above the wall and its opposite pointing toward the center of the structure. Each of the outer columns was once and a half again the height of the average Natu hunter, who on average was taller than the men who would shepherd their goats over the buried structure over 12,000 solar orbits later. Laid on top of these slabs were a series of cedar planks, forming a circular viewing platform that encircled two even more massive vertical slabs. It was on this circular platform that Azaria had seen Fahim and her father, along with several other Ta'araki, perform the sacrifice of the strange Kebar man almost a half-moon earlier. The two gigantic slabs that stood in parallel, forming the heart of the Temple, were just bigger versions of the slabs that supported the viewing platform. Each had a perfectly designed, rectangular, stone-cut footing around its base, providing extra support. More cedar planks lay atop these monstrous pillars, connecting them and forming the altar itself. The Kebar scout had drawn his last breath on these planks. More supporting boards lay across the oval structure, allowing the Ta'araki access to the raised sacrificial altar.
Fahim led the young women to the top of the viewing platform and let a few briefly inspect the altar, before calling them back and sending several more out. The central part of the wood roof could not hold the weight of too many. "The subject of the ritual is laid atop this altar," Fahim explained, "whether it be a body for excarnation, or a beast for sacrifice."
Or a Kebar for execution,
Azaria thought. However she doubted anyone else here knew about that, besides Fahim and the other Ta'araki. Standing here so close to that same altar, she couldn't rid the gruesome images of that scene from her mind.
"The attendant Ta'araki would stand about where you are now, Tahrini," Fahim continued, addressing one of the older girls Azaria wasn't very familiar with, but recognized as being from Fox Camp. "If you look up now, you'll find the Ta'ar's Minions are ready to perform their part." Azaria imitated the other young women and directed her gaze upward, finding that Fahim was correct, as scores of vultures and other carrion fowl circled above them. There were oooh's and aaah's from many of the girls. Azaria wondered if they were experiencing the same creepy tingling down their backs.
"The Ta'ar's servants carry out their duty well," Fahim continued. "Whenever there are Natu present, the servants are ready to perform the cleansing, without fail. We are almost done here. Are there any questions?"
One of the younger girls from Falcon Camp dared to be the first. "Ta'araki, I noticed there are carvings of different beasts on the pillars. What do these signify?" Azaria looked down into the uncovered gap in the planked ceiling at the pillars the girl was speaking of. Until then, she'd not thought to look down, but she realized the girl was right - there were magnificent carvings on some of the pillars, including the larger central ones.
Fahim beamed at the young girl, "Very good, Aiyana! This is what I wanted to show you last. Let's all step down to the central floor and examine the pillars more closely. There are ladders to the sides. Feel free to get a good look and admire the craftsmanship. You may even touch them – gently! We are nearly as proud of these carvings as we are of the Great Temple itself."
They climbed down to a red terrazzo floor and spread out to the different pillars. As her turn to climb down came, the deep red finish of the floor stunned Azaria, as she'd never seen anything like it. Nor had anyone else who hadn't already been inside the Great Temple - for it was a new invention, produced by mixing burnt, crushed limestone chips with clay, dying it with red ochre and finishing with heavy polishing. After admiring the new sight, her attention was drawn to a boar which adorned one of the main slabs. She marveled at the amount of detail, it looked exactly like a boar, facing downward on the thin side. Almost afraid to touch it, Azaria lightly ran her index finger along the length of its body, from the haunches to the snout. It wasn't quite perfectly smooth, just subtly rough. She could feel the natural, tiny indentations in the rock. To her it seemed the boar must have always lived there in the rock, and the carver merely chipped the extraneous pieces away.