The Wayfarer Boy

The Wayfarer Boy By Mark Driver Copyright 2019

When we arrived at the harbor, a large raft was tied at the mooring. A sentinel remained on board. Two others stood watch atop the lookout terrace built in the ancient times, before the Citadel existed. These two were young, no longer initiates, but not by much. Their sleeveless, scarlet tunics were cut short, revealing rippling thighs. Leather belts were cinched snug at their hip. Each holstered a long dagger with grips of gemstone and polished, white whalebone. Their muscular arms were crossed at attention.

A grey haired curmudgeon cried out to the two, whether they'd come for the slave boy. I looked up at my father. The old man continued wagging his tongue. The sentinel on board the raft was watching. This one lacked the winning beauty of his comrades He was more fearsome and stout. His burly hand gripped a sacramental axe with burnished blade that glinted in the sun. The old man saw it and squawked how the axe looked well used. That quieted the growing crowd, but kindled excitement in a few. Father chewed at his lip. He glanced toward the Citadel tower where the King watched.

The measured timbre of a gong began sounding from across the straight where the Oracle dwelled, where the raft would take our Jundi. By then the last few citizens were arriving along the mooring.

Nine youths of the Temple Corps gathered in formation. They donned leather vests with golden trim, and doeskin breeches dyed green. Crisp berry-red, linen ties were knotted at their breastbone, accenting the smooth skin where their vests opened.

They sounded their conch horns in response to the Oracle's gong, then beat their drums in syncopation that seemed wrongly enthusiastic to me. If not for the Oracle's menacing gong, I reckoned the coming chain of events could cease. But I was the only one that wished it. All were longing for the Appeasing, that the Gods might forgive the wrongs the people had wrought, bless the harvest and bring victory in war.

We'd bid farewell to Jundi after supper, the last time I felt the stroke of his thumb against my back as he set my meal on the table. Father often pestered Jundi for his kinship with me. He'd lash the floor behind our heels, sending us scurrying, yelling at Jundi "Kerq is the master, you are the slave."

Father was apt to retell the story of how he arrived home from war, that I took my first steps then, lunging towards Jundi still tied at the gate, that Mother had been furious, being left with a strange five year old to mentor. I'd heard it said that Jundi had been saved by Father as much as captured.

When the Temple sentries arrived to take him, Father promised he'd bring me along in the morning only if I'd stop my fussing, how I ought to be grateful keeping Jundi eight years. He tucked me into bed and brushed the hair from my forehead with the palm of his hand. I asked him if the Oracle knew how I needed Jundi, and might realize taking him was a mistake. Father ordered me never to ask it again.

His brow furrowed that morning when the babbling old man yelled a similar tact as two Temple Diviners arrived, whether their selecting the slave boy was their own pickled self deception. The two grinned, pretending to be unaware.

Many pointed enthusiastically as the Temple Priestess approached, her majestic robes gliding along the turf. She wore thick, golden rings on her arms that clinked and clanged as she raised and lowered her hands, beckoning her flock to prepare. She ascended with the Diviners up to the Dais. Jundi followed her. He smiled sweetly. None of what the Priestess spoke about made sense to me, except that the sacred raft was ready to take Jundi across the straight to the Oracle.

The old man yelled back at the crowd if they'd seen the sentinel's axe and whether it would meet human flesh across the straight. Father shook his head at me that I shouldn't listen to the old crank. He picked me up to quell my looming tears.

Jundi followed the Priestess descending back dow from the Dais to where the Temple Corps awaited. The captain of the Corps stripped Jundi, rubbed him with root oils, then grasped him by the shoulders and kissed him. The din from the crowd rose. Some cried out to the Priestess to send a second youth for good measure. The old man pointed at me, shouting I should end my rebellious sobbing or I'd be next to go. I held tight around Father's neck as he turned and watched the old man retreat.

The two young sentinels descended from the lookout terrance to escort Jundi. They held him by his wrists as they led him onto the raft where they chained him to a bench. That was the last memory of Jundi, sitting on the raft, his oiled skin glistening in the sunlight, drifting away from the mooring.

During the excitement of the ceremony, a wayfarer emerged unnoticed through the myrtle thicket along the farthest edge of the harbor. As he advanced nearer, he appeared freakishly tall. I wondered if he was not really a man of the world but some toy of the Gods here on earth. His height disguised a considerable physique that soon exhibited great force. He had a long yellow beard, wore a tan robe with a sack tied over his back and carried a large wooden staff. With his other hand, he was towing a boy along. The boy wore a thin wool jacket with a hood that hid his face. When the wayfarer saw the crowd turn their attention to him, he quickly snatched the boy up by the scruff of his jacket. The boy hooked his arms around the wayfarer's neck and clinched legs around his ribs, in a motion that seemed practiced. When they passed by us, the boy's hood fell back. He studied me over the wayfarer's shoulder. As I wiped my eyes, the boy grinned at me. The crowd cleared the way for the wayfarer. He used his staff to bat away anyone coming too close, knocking some to the ground, snarling at others. The boy continued looking only at me as the wayfarer advanced towards the Citadel.

The King remained in the tower, watching as the Priestess retreated to her compound, and the wayfarer arrived. I looked back towards the harbor. The Oracle's gong continued resonating. The crowd was anxious to disperse. Few of the most pious ascended the lookout terrace to wait as the raft became a mere speck bobbing in the water approaching the land beyond the straight.

The Temple Corps members set their instruments aside, stripped off their uniforms, and jumped into the water where they swam and grappled with each other. Father was staring across the straight. When he noticed me scanning the naked youths, set me down, took hold of my hand and began walking towards our home inside the Citadel.

As Father jostled my shoulder to wake me, I thought how mysterious Khash seemed. What occurred to me most as the sleep cleared from my eyes, something that I sensed when I sat near him atop the terrace, but mostly when he came close at the gate, just as the first songbirds of dawn called for us to part, was his particular and subtle scent. There was something familiar and pleasant about it. I wanted to be near him again to know if I'd imagined it.

I laid in my bed thinking about him. Eventually, Mother came in, declaring how the anxiety from yesterday had exhausted me. She drew me up, complaining I'd gone to bed with my clothes still on.

A commotion followed in the yard. Father shouted how the gate was left open. When I emerged Tezta was darting back and forth carrying an inflated boar's bladder tied with a cord. Father swung a stick to shoo Tezta away. He growled and shook the ball.

I ran to Tezta and knelt beside him. Through the gate and across the lane Khash was lingering out of Father's sight, smiling at me. His arms were crossed, waiting for me to come along. Father permitted delivering the dog where it belonged but expected me to return directly after.

Khash led me back to the lookout terrace and scrambled to the top. By then there was clear visibility all the way across the straight. Tezta nudged me to pet him. Khash and I stared across. I talked about Jundi, how I would miss him and hoped he faired well.

Khash laid on his side looking at me. "By today he must be in a good place I expect."

I laid down and looked at Khash. His face was like a brave hawk, narrow shaped, probing eyes, one tuft of his wavy chestnut hair laying down at his forehead, a sharp nose and handsome jaw.

Khash shared about his lineage, that he never knew his parents, and was raised at a temple in the land of the mountain people. A month ago was the wayfarer came to their temple and they began a journey that ended here to the Citadel.

I turned onto my stomach. Khash reached over and scratched my back.

I smiled. "Jundi used to do that."

"He was your slave."

I nodded my head. "Are you the King's slave?"

Khash shook his head. "I am not his slave, yet I am his to keep."

"What will he keep you for?"

Khash sat up and looked back across the straight, then sprang up and descended the terrace. I followed, watching Khash strip off and dive in off the far end of the mooring. He yelled at me to join. Tezta stayed on the bank of the harbor and watched. Khash was a strong swimmer. He finished a length of breast stroke and then facing upward he stroked back towards me. I could see he had begun to show hair, though only a small amount, He was more mature than me, perhaps by a year. When I needed help, Khash positioned his hands on my body to help me float. His looking after me like was pleasing.

We laid on the mooring, warming ourselves in the morning sun. I looked at his body and compared it to mine. Khash saw me taking inventory of him, tousled my hair and smiled. I hugged Khash, rested my nose along his neck and inhaled. Khash had bread and cheese for me to eat. I devoured my portion. He gave me his, explaining he'd have plenty at the Palace.

On my way home, I thought how Khash was confident that Jundi faired well now, about how brave Khash was to travel for a month with the wayfarer. I thought about Tezta, wondering how he came to be with Khash. I thought about the look and the smell of a mountain boy. I thought about how we were becoming friends.

As I reached the Citadel gate I saw Father waiting for me there. He took me away where few would hear, took my breeches and shirt and struck me with ten lashes up and down my back side. When he was done I dropped to my hands and knees and cried. Father scolded me for lying to the guards about the orchard crew. He then asked if I delivered the dog, that he'd come looking for me.

Once home, I finished my chores quickly and then asked to be off by myself. Heading back out of the Citadel gate. I ignored the guards, but walked deliberately slow that they might see the welts on my legs and neck. Hatred welled up in me towards my father, how he'd let Jundi be taken and now beat me with his lash.

I found shade and laid in the grass on my stomach. I had few practical options, though I considered running away or at least hiding long enough that my parents would be bitter with regrets over my disappearance. The soreness along my back kept me from drifting off to sleep, though I came close. A wet nose roused me from my thoughts. Khash called Tezta off of me and knelt behind me. He remained quiet. I could tell he was observing the welts. He then asked if it hurt. I nodded repeatedly.

Khash petted my forehead then pointed to the lookout terrace, to go up with Tezta and wait. At the top was a girl with long yellow golden hair, playing with a younger friend. From their garments I knew they were Temple initiates. When the girl saw me she smiled, took her friend's hand and came to me. Tezta slowly wagged his tail. They sat nearby, looking at the red welts on my neck and legs. When Khash returned they ran away.

Khash brought a long red silk cloth that he spread out on the grass, a small bundle of food and a vessel of aloe and chamomile potion for my welts. I stripped off and prepared to lay down. But Khash told me to wait. He handed me his belt and removed his shirt and breeches, then knelt on his hands and knees, commanding me to whip him with his belt, that he was accepting blame for my father's anger and the thrashing. I looked at the rough weave and knew I could never hit Khash with such a belt, nor would ever want to hit him at all.

Khash growled at my objection, how he was the King's boy, that I have no choice in it. I set the belt on his pile of clothes and then laid on the cloth.

"Kerq, I shall forgive you for disobeying me this time."

I tenderly professed to always remain grateful for his mercy, though I expect Khash observed my sly grin as I professed it.

"As Khash began dabbing me with the potion, he explained how the temple of the mountain people taught the importance of forgiveness. I heard but did not understand, focusing mostly on the soothing feel as Khash worked upwards from my calf to my thighs. Khash was careful with his fingers, applying with the lightest of touch. The potion was cool against the sting.

I had never lain on such a fine fabric, so smooth and soft against my skin. Tezta laid along my other side, while Khash tended to me. Tezta warned us when the two girls returned. Khash looked concerned. The older one with yellow golden hair bravely approached despite our nakedness. Khash held his shirt against himself. The girl spoke to her young friend and pointed at me. They came closer and looked at my welts. Khash became annoyed and ran them off.

I was curious what they'd said. Khash resumed dabbing the potion on me. He reached the biggest welt across my buttocks. "This one is the worst. You must keep off of it" The pain felt like I'd been stung by a dozen bees. He continued over it for a long time. Khash whispered how anyone could do this to such a nice boy.

I wasn't certain if Khash referred to what the girl had said or if he was just talking to himself, or to Tezta. I didn't expect he was talking to me. The comment eased the despair in me. I couldn't help but smile. Khash ruffled my hair.

When finished Khash drew me up I wished to hear Khash say it again, out loud. I asked whether he really thought I was nice.

"When you're not crying, yes." Khash winked at me. He looked out towards the land beyond the straight. I whispered thanks to him and sighed. Khash turned and patted my forehead. "Tomorrow a swim in the harbor will help, and then I'll apply more potion to your skin."

We ate the food. When I woke later it was late. Khash was gone. Tezta had stayed, curling up close to me on the silk cloth.

Khash and I swam nearly every day. My strokes steadily improved. Khash praised my technique and my stronger appearance. Father continued at our farm most days since the lashing.

Khash never explained why he was staying with the King. What he did know he couldn't share. One day he made me promise to secrecy that when he told me why he'd come from the land of mountain people I must never repeat it. He held me down on the ground and sat on me, holding my hands above my head and staring down into my eyes. "Do you promise Kerq? Will it be our secret?"

I worked hard at every task without complaint and respected my place as a child among the farm crew. My bed at the farm was not as fine as at home. I brought the silk cloth for comfort, though I decided to keep it safely packed out of my sight. Perhaps it was my imagination, that the cloth still kept some of Khash where he had lain on it, his clean, pure scent. I pulled it out a few times to see if any of him remained. I remembered what his scent reminded me of, like after a storm, when the atmosphere is scrubbed of all the dust, and the air smells so pure and sweet. I kept it put away to forget how I hurt inside the night we parted.

I was not keen on being home again and focused on my purpose at the farm. When Father prepared to return to the Citadel he granted my request to stay. I sent along a letter for Mother, that if the same dog came around again, how she might let it sample a piece of her fresh made flat bread, and if a boy named Khash accompanies the dog or is lurking nearby, that he had been very good to me, and might enjoy flat bread as well and to sample some of our olives.

Nayrahn was Father's crew chief at the farm. He managed family interests and looked after me. Nayrahn was a man that few would cross. I felt safe around him. He saw to it that I ate well, and each night secured the family quarters before he returned to his lodging where he lived with his wife and their baby.

Father assigned me to pick from the orchard trees, a task given to the young and smaller crew. At the end of the day my arms and legs ached from climbing back and forth like a monkey, but I was happy how the work made me stronger. Nayrahn required the crew to lift me up and safely down from each tree. "His father will have my hide if anything happens to this little man." He would pat my head or tap my shoulder for emphasis to the others.

After work, sometimes Nayrahn would have me ride away on his shoulders all the way to the well. "Here we are little man." Eventually I'd grown enough that Nayrahn was less apt to tote me, instead walking me home, holding my hand as we went.

I found a place along the river deep and away from the current where I practiced my swimming. Farm work made my strokes more and more powerful. Once I asked Nayrahn to join me at the end of the day to wash the dust off. I stripped off and jumped in, yelling at Nayrahn to join. He was reluctant. I splashed myself clean and then showed my swimming prowess.

I tried pulling Nayrahn in, even goading him to submit, how I was heir to farm. He was not happy being addressed in such a manner. I felt foolish as the night I parted from Khash. On the return I kept silent until Nayran took my hand and squeezed it. I apologized and promised better behavior if we could come again. Nayrahn ran his palm across my wet hair and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Maybe, sometime."

The Citadel filled me with despair. Father agreed I could accompany crew members returning to the farm. On arrival I ran to Nayrahn and shook his hand. He'd stopped calling me his little man and no longer patted my head and shoulders. I was determined to gain new respect. I'd pull my weight, never be the rash boy, but more a man, though I'd miss his hand running across my hair. .

By the following year I'd earned responsibility for tasks more difficult than picking fruit and olives. I helped with milling flour, and pruning trees. I tended to the horses, cattle, and sheep. The horses were particularly important that they be kept ready in case war returned and the cavalry would enlist Father.

I still swam in the river and began hiking the cliff's s at the opposite bank. I grew taller and more muscular, resembling more like the youths of the Temple Corps the night I saw them reclining around the fire, yet still much more a boy compared to how Nayrahn and his crew looked when I watched them bathing the dust off each other.

Father and Mother visited the farm often. I wondered why they didn't require me to visit the Citadel. I never asked them again about Khash. Returning the silk cloth now seemed beyond reason. I thought of him less though when I did I hoped he faired well.

When I reached 15 Nayrahn took me with his crew on a deer hunt. I was assigned tasks, but nothing involving the kill and butchering. The death was not as fast as I expected, though the crew did what they could for a quick end. Still, when I heard the deer cry and watched it struggle, tears streamed down my face. Nothing was said, though I expect the crew was embarrassed for my childishness. I felt shame.

After the meat had roasted, the hunting party gathered to eat. I sat alone by the fire. A junior crew member sat with Nayrahn. The men shouted and laughed as they drank and ate. Nayrahn and his junior shared quieter thoughts with each other. Then Nayrahn came and took my hand to come sit between the two.

He put his arm around my shoulder and smiled at me. He pinched my cheek to bring a smile.. "Your still my pretty little man." Then he kissed the side of my head. Later Nayrahn made sure I was safely tucked into a warm blanket, before returning back to the fire to sit with his junior. I tried staying awake, to see them retire, though they seemed to remain talking by the fire all night.

Nayrahn switched me to a younger horse after that day. Artax whinied and stamped the stall floort. I rode back to the bend in the river where Nayrahn and his junior had been and walked back into the woods and thought about the two. Returning to the river, I swam for a while longer, then walked back, leading the horse on foot towards the stables.

I saw Father had arrived. He was at the stables looking in. As I approached I heard Nayrahn weeping, then saw through the door that Artax was down. Father told me the old nag laid down on the stall floor and never got up again, that sometimes a horse lives long enough that they just die of old age. Artax had more love and care than a lot of people, that was true. I wanted to cry. But I hadn't cried in front of Father in years and Nayrahn was crying enough for both of us.

A delicious assortment awaited for me to eat and hot water and a cloth for me to bathe. I slept well and did not wake until morning when Mother peered into my room and quipped how a certain dog was at the gate.

As I got dressed I wondered if Khash and I were too old to swim or to recline in the grass on the lookout terrace. I wanted to show off my strokes and fit body and was happy when Khash was also eager for a swim.

When we reached the end of the mooring he stripped off. I was stirred by his masculine, carved physique, the dark hair growing at his underarms and especially down around his manly jewels. Under the water, I felt the tickle of his body as he skimmed just below me while I practiced my backstroke. Khash heaved me up out of the water and flung me over. I felt the slap of his hand on my rump and heard Khash yell. I felt a stirring in me. I wondered if we were going to fight and how I wanted to hurry and then submit to him.

Khash didn't understand, assuming from my silence how striking me on the backside may have been ill conceived. But when I grabbed Khash with all my strength and let the flat of my hand find his backside perhaps he understood. He grabbed my hand and let me to the top of the lookout terrace, where we spread out and relaxed.

Khash had a vessel of wine to share and some cheese. The wine gave me a daring spirit. I sprung on top of Khash and held him by the wrists. I asked if we could fight.

"Why do you want to fight me Kerq? Shall we not be pleasant with each other?"

I explained the excitement of what men do after a fight, yet Khash was not aware. When I looked at his body and mine and smiled, then he guessed what I was after. He stood me up and pulled me behind my neck so our foreheads were together.

"We do not have to fight Kerq."

Khash let the side of his face touch mine as he spoke. He turned my head so my lips brush his face and the corner of his mouth pressed my cheek. I had never kissed a boy before and was not sure if this qualified as a kiss. I felt the tickle of his tongue on me then a gentle sucking on my lower lip. Our mouths touched together. Then Khash pulled away signaling to me I was free to stop. His lips were wet. I leaned forward and kissed them.

Khash was expected to return to the Palace soon. He promised if I wanted more of this, and if I did want to submit to him, I should return that night. "I will give you what you want Kerq under sweet, starry skies and you will never ever have to fight any time you want to share it."

We met the next day at the mooring then headed deep into the myrtle thicket farther than I'd ever been. Khash took me to the edge of a thermal pool, where we set our packs down, stripped off and slipped into the warm water. My want for him was strong, but he was preoccupied.

As we soaked, Khash told me of politics and rivalry between the Temple Priestess and the King, that she would carve up pieces of his power at any chance. Foolish people favored her dogma which forgives all the greed and wrongdoings they practice, by simply sending unlucky boys off to the Oracle.

Khash wrapped his arm around and stroked the top of my head. "You are part of why I am here in the Kingdom. The Kingdom had been at risk and for years. In time as the Palace acquiesced more and more to the Temple, the King explained why he brought me here."

I was stunned when Khash revealed Jundi was sent to the Oracle in my place, that the Diviners had prophesied I would sail off on the sacred raft. Khash explained how Father struck a deal with the King. The Diviners had schemed with others to eliminate me, the heir to Father's land. The King sanctions the Diviners' prophecy each time. But when I was selected, Father's bargain changed everything. Khash explained I was saved at a cost.

Then Khash astonished me that the bargain with the Oracle included bringing a boy that lived with the mountain people. Their Priestess was considered the Goddess on Earth, and revered above all across the world. A belief spread that an infant boy was laid there at the mountain Temple for her by a godly hand reaching down from the heavens.

"You?"

Khash smiled. "Me. At least it helps keep the Temple coffers full."

"But perhaps it is true, that you are divine, proven by the mountain peoples' Priestess."

I pulled Khash nearer and inhaled his scent then looked into his eyes.

Khash sighed and leaned back, staring up at the overhead canopy of the thicket.

"Besides giving up Jundi, the bargain required your Father to pay half of the fee to the Temple of the mountain people, for their divine boy. Your Father is one of the richest men in the kingdom and the King took advantage of it. The King expected having me would increase the Palace's power again, and help stave off Temple ambitions.

"After paying the King and giving up Jundi, your leaving the Citadel in the night upset your Father greatly. It was a dangerous thing you accomplished with your lie to the guards."

We were quiet for a long while. I thought of Father. Khash watched me.

"Kerq, one day I will be King. The King wants it so and he believes the Oracle does as well. One day you must have many sons so that your land will be kept from greedy hands. I hope during those future days you will welcome your King to visit there on your farmland."

Khash wrapped his arm tight around my shoulder then talked about bringing the most beautiful young girls in the kingdom and letting me choose which to marry. He advised me how strength serves better as a woman ages. "What good if she can't fetch water from the well?"

We laughed. Then Khash became more serious. "But come the day that we ride the wedding cart to retrieve your girl, I know a tear may wet the ground when I step out and watch you drive towards your love nest and I return to the Palace without you."

I rose up and laid on my stomach at the edge of the pool. Arching my back, I looked at Khash. He came to mount me, and slipped his thumb between my teeth, telling me to bear down if he was too much.

I imagined being taken far away on a sacred raft, away from my parents and my world, out into the harbor and across the straight. I thought about a little boy removed from his mountain home, taken far away to a strange kingdom.

I took his thumb out of my mouth and kissed his hand. .

When war returned the cavalry called Father to serve. Father's regiment was the first to mobilize. They protected farms along the farther interior rangeland of the Kingdom. Mother remained at the Citadel in case of the worst. Rumor spread of a new prophecy the Diviner's had sent to the King, that a youth must be sent to the Oracle. For the war effort, the Gods would deliver victory if the Kingdom fulfilled this prophecy. .

A letter arrived from Khash that I was in danger, even at the farm, and to remain hidden, trusting only my closest friends. The King did not sanction the prophecy and had left the Citadel. Khash could not say where the King had gone.

The Citadel gates remained closed and the Palace grounds were under curfew, which protected Khash as long as the guards remained loyal. But the Temple Priestess was creating a bold strategy to fill the power vacuum during the King's absence. Khash worried the Priestess would try to eliminate him or me or both.

I prayed for Khash every morning and every night. I felt unwell how much I worried for him. Nayrahn noticed and approached me. I remembered the time he cried over Artax and suddenly was weeping in his arms.

I asked him if we could go make camp overnight out in the rangeland, that he should tell no one. I asked him to bring his junior.

Sharing details of the danger with Nayrahn was the reasonable course, that I would trust these two alone, and no one else. Having Nayrahn and his junior guard my back at the farm would have to be sufficient.

I explained the depth of my fondness for Khash, that I feared losing him while stranded at the farm. When I asked if Nayrahn understood, he held his junior's hand. Nayrahn advised his preference to die side by side with a beloved comrade, and would forever regret missing a last chance to meet if the other died.

Nayrahn spent the next day sharpening my dagger. That evening I secretly packed for journeying to the Citadel. He packed his deer horn as my second defense.

Riding under cover of darkness was my only strategy. If the Citadel gates remained shut and the Palace grounds controlled, then seeing Mother or Khash would be quite a trick. Nearing the last crest before the Citadel I sensed movement away from the road. I dismounted and walked the rest of the way to create the less notice for whatever was there, if it was anything.

I tied my horse at the farthest point of the mooring and ascended up the lookout terrace where I waited and watched. As the dawn approached I saw the grounds had been prepared for a ceremony, though the configuration was different then the Appeasing. My mind began to race. I sensed something terrible was going to happen and longed for a guardian hound to come charging towards me and a handsome youth of the mountain people to sit by my side and comfort me.

By morning, ceremonial participants were taking their places. Members of the Temple Corps arrived. But there was no gong sounding from where the Oracle dwells.

The Citadel gates swung open. There were no guards posted and no one appeared up in the Citadel tower. Since the day Khash sent the letter, the power vacuum must have collapsed the hierarchy. I worried for the Palace and Khash. .

I looked for my horse, calculating whether I ought to ride to the gates and onward to home. Perhaps Mother understood what was happening. But no one was ascending the terrace, so I kept that advantage and stayed in place.

At the far end of the harbor I saw movement towards the Citadel, two people walking. No one else noticed their approach.

After the citizens of the Citadel had crowded together for the ceremony, the Temple Corp began to play. Eventually the two Diviners arrived. They didn't ascend up to the Dais as during the Appeasing, but to a platform between the crowd and the harbor. They lifted a large sacramental axe from below and laid it in front of their feet. The crowd cheered with glee at the sight of it and the Diviners waved in appreciation.

The Temple Priestess arrived. She was followed by a young man, not much beyond a youth. I felt as if all the water and blood in me had turned to stone then, that I would crumble into dust. A handsome young man that reminded me of a hawk, with narrow, piercing eyes and a tuft of hair laying down his forehead was obediently following the Temple Priestess and smiling. They ascended the Dais to address the crowd what was about to happen to Khash, which made them cheer and scream with delight, how Khash was about to lose his earthly life for their gain.

One of the Temple sentries stepped onto the platform and held the axe at attention. The crowd screamed again. The sentry grinned. Two assistants joined him. I looked where my horse was and felt the dagger in my hand.

I saw the two along the harbor were quickly approaching. It was the Wayfarer, and with him was a woman wearing a blue linen robe and a crown. I concluded it was the Goddess on Earth, come from the mountain temple.

I looked back at Khash. I knew he saw me then, looking up to me on our spot at the lookout terrace, then quickly back.

The Wayfarer lifted the Goddess on Earth into a tree where she raised her hands up and bellowed her warning. "The Gods may yet forgive you. The Gods may yet forgive you." Over and over she bellowed in a startling, nearly ear splitting voice. Some in the crowd were frightened and dropped to their knees.

The Temple Priestess could no longer be heard over the commotion. The Diviners began shouting to the sentry to swing the axe. The two assistants forced Khash to kneel with his head prone.

The Wayfarer was punching through the crowd, laying down everyone in the way with his staff, but would not reach the platform in time. The sentry had already raised the axe to its zenith. The crowd screamed with anticipation for the axe to plunge down through Khash's neck.

I used both hands to plunge my dagger deep into the base of the sentry's skull. The axe fell into the foot of one of the Diviners and as he fell knocked the second Diviner off the platform. I buried the deer horn into the throat of the first assistant. The second assistant jumped away from the platform.

I jumped back on my horse and grabbed Khash's hand to help him mount behind me. Hundreds of armed mountain people had appeared on the edge of the grounds, heading towards the Citadel and the Temple. The King was with them, returning to help save the Kingdom.

We rode away from the Citadel, all the way to the farm. Nayrahn saw me arriving and the prize I brought. He gathered his crew to stand guard. Khash and I dismounted and held onto each other. Nayrahn gathered crew to guard the road. His junior escorted us to the house then posted crew all around to prevent entry.

Inside we found Tezta sleeping. Khash gathered him up as Tezta licked his tears.