Onward

Life is full of beauty. Notice it. Notice the bumble bee, the small child, and the smiling faces. Smell the rain, and feel the wind. Live your life to the fullest potential, and fight for your dreams. Ashley Smith

Honesty. I'd been honest as I spoke with my mentor. I was honest in speaking of the night before. If there is one single fault to stand out most of my character it is that I am perhaps too honest for my own good. That is not to say I do not have a list of flaws. I am human.

She spoke of propriety ... did I not believe that my actions were improprietous? My answer was that by the time my head gave any rationale to a state of dress, it was too late to feign giddiness then scamper away in a blushing fit of innocence. What transpired had felt natural of a woman who loves a man, to see to his needs ... not desires ... needs. There is no moral superiority in what I feel of the time I have spent with the warrior but there is no shame to be found within me for even the smallest ihn of any of it. I have loved him and in that it is simple purity without guile.

It is said the night has a thousand eyes and the heart but one. Kam taught me to track, well enough, to notice the prints along the bank. There were barefooted ones making their way to the stream that I knew ended where the warrior was. There were another's, both forward and reversed that covered one of mine. I knew too who they belonged to.

As we walked together our conversation continued to other topics, of how empty it will feel when Silken returns and her children are no longer close about. I've savored every moment of being with them and the closeness will continue, but it will once more be just Me Too and I. I am all he has with exception of she and Rook. She spoke gently of the trials and tribulations of raising a child alone, more so a son, and that perhaps that will change for me. The honesty is that I cannot count the stars and claim that one of them is mine even if I whisper to myself of doing so. As the tracks of tears stained my cheek she asked why not? There was encouragement there not to cease to dream, perhaps there is more to my destiny that has yet to be revealed. There was no laughter in my voice as I confided I am used to loneliness and could live my life as I have the past ... alone, but now that the boy has come into my life I can no longer see my world without him. It is only in adding another .. a third star that I vacillate.

I've listened now to a great many things ... during that conversation, afterwards at the fires, what I have heard prior as well as what is in my head and in my heart. Much of these things I will not open thought to here, they will be mine and mine alone. I will share this ... The core of my beliefs have not changed, though to say I haven't, is to say that I have not grown or begun to mature. The continuance of the Tribe is vital regardless of my place or even existence within it. The importance of the bosk never escapes me though I have an understanding of the role the kaiila play in the grand scheme of things. This is where I work hardest to help see the births, the growth and training of them. Assurance of a place within the Tribe for the boy is my priority. I worry for him more than I do for my own heart. My friends are also considered my family and for them I have nothing but good intentions. I worry over them and their well being also.

I have made a decision that is based only in part on the advice of those around me but more on what I feel is right. I will speak to the warrior, not with any expectations but with the honesty that he has right to know. If he is the man I know in my heart he is, he will hear what I have to say. I will be woman enough to listen as well.

I do not care for the concept that the Sky has predetermined our paths in life .. to map our destiny without informing us of its plans. I believe that it provides what is essential to live and grow and perhaps has both wrath and compassion like a loving parent as we pull ourselves up from crawling to walk and onward to be able to run. In return it is offered the reverence, love, and respect that it deserves. Should I find that it has made fools of us all in the predisposition of what is to happen in the future without regard to the right of any one's will, my temper will know no bounds. I would feel the same of people.

As my path continues Onward .. I hold to the belief that beneath the stars, life like the flow of a stream is full of beauty and wonder. It can be turbulent with violence, brimming its bank with the bounty of abundance, calmly peaceful enough to leave crystal reflection and I will notice it ...all of it. In doing so I will live to the fullest of my potential and fight like a larl for my dreams. This is passion.

There is a sliver of jade I plucked from the many things that I have heard ... we are vulnerable, no matter how strong or tough. I marvel to myself that is the impressionable softness that allows tracks to form.

Grains of Sand

I can still feel the grains of sand on my hands. The night slipped away from me within my wagon, with my head resting along one of the wooden ribs. The pads of my palms rolled against each other. There is no secret of how I feel about a particular warrior, except that it remains unsaid to the warrior himself. Gentle teasings and proddings had encouraged me to speak those emotions aloud, to give them voice. Was there so much surprise at my answer? What I felt went far beyond what I'd ever felt of any other, not this intensity, not this .. depth .. no .. it was heard right ... no other ... ever.

All I knew was that absence had created an ache in the hollow of my chest so bad it felt I could not breathe. I missed the laughter, I missed the bantering. I missed ... him. It seemed as if it had been forever since his voice echoed across the fires, whispered beneath the moonslight. Was he safe, was he alright? It had been prophetic understanding .. I was worrying myself sick.

I had to walk, I had to find air, the wagon was stifling me and the tred of my boots crossed the plains to the small tributary .. water. It was my shoreline like the coast. Here beneath the stars maybe I could find some peace to a raging mind and thundering heart. I feel like a fool. I feel as if I look into the great blue sky expecting to spread wings to soar and am tugged by the weighted fear of tumbling endlessly against every cloud, every star there is until I know them all by name. I couldn't bear to look up, instead I waded to the middle of the stream to curl in upon myself, to brace my head in the cradle of my arms and let the inner rain fall unashamed. Not until the meloncholy was spent could my hand clear my cheek and reach for a pebble. It never found its mark. The sounds behind me, spun me around.

Was it a vision? An apparition? I was up and running through the currents heedless of how each bootfall sprayed droplets of water as high as my waist until I was only feet away. It took all of the strength I had within me not to simply bowl him over, topple him right into the stream in embrace, in a covering of kisses that said how much his being away had affected me, to just stand there spellbound by that face, those eyes, that grin. He had returned safe and inwardly there was a rejoicing, peels of delight rending the air and a dance of thanksgiving to the sky, but I just stood there. This not knowing what to do with my hands always leave them to flutter in front of me, wanting to reach out, resisting the urge until they simply hover. Had I missed him? Damnable arrogance! Had he been gone? Where was his kiss? It would be twice now that there was no doubt of my aim or his. There was no mistaking the smiles that replaced witty ones either of us usually have.

It would not be until the firmness of an arm drew me closer that I would actually realize .. there was nothing but my clothing and ... simply Tuchuk there. I'd given it no thought whatsoever but the evidence was hard to ignore. Perhaps he may have missed me a little bit too. Hadn't I been there? Yes, every moment, every ihn. I rebutted the offer to get naked and join him but he may as well turned around so I could see to the spots he missed. It was far too late to swoon and run scampering to the bank.

It was a task taken seriously. That give of sore muscles beneath my palm told me of the days of riding, the tensions of more than just standing Tuchuk ala stars and I willed them away with the firmness of seeing them soothed. How long had it been since I felt the lilt of a far away lullaby pass my lips? To fill the air with those soft sung songs without words? I gave in to them now. When the sand had all been rinsed clear, I turned to cross the shoal heading for the bank, my hands brushing away the damp sand clinging to my leathers. I didn't say a word. I didn't look back. I didn't stop until the familiarity of my own rows of wagons was in front of me.

I can still feel the grains of sand on my hands, like those in an hourglass spilling between my fingers .. this and the quiet hum of tune to keep me company. I touch that soft spot beneath my breast to savor the peaceful easy feeling that is there. It is the same natural feel when I am with him, down to the touch that my hand curls over with the same tenderness as the kisses that he covers them with.

I can't deny that my head wages war with my heart, it is one that I do not have answers or battle strategies for. Part of me thinks it is best not to see him again though Cana suggests that I tell him how I feel, yet when I see him, there are no words that come or feel needed. As I walk along side the wagon now, I look out over the bosk, hear their song and see not the body of the man, not a simple wish to topple into his furs but the edge of his smile, the depths of his eyes that haunts me so. Instead there is a wish to hear more of his feelings of the sky, of life, to know the depths of his heart. I see a myriad of cherubic faces surrounding us, that innocence and trust like the multitudes of stars. The only thing that both my head and my heart agree on is that I will never plead submission again, not to him, not to any man but it doesn't break the spell. It isn't a curse, there is no logic .. I think it is madness.

Ferocious Beast

(No that is not the image of a sleen but you have to admit .. it worked)

Well this certainly explained the noise that had been heard from the wagon all those nights in the north. The air filled with pleadings that half bordered on whining and for once it just made me grin. Can I keep him? Can I keep him Linna, pleeeeease? Oh yes, I extricated those devout promises .. You have to feed him, see him trained, take care of him or is it a her ... and ... by no means is it sleeping in a wagon .. no not yours, not mine, not anybodies. It wound up sleeping in his but only for now and that scent! Winds.

If I'd known we were going to be the proud new owners of a young sleen, I would have wagered for a pen and some chain and .. what all does one need for a sleen anyway? I was already scouting around for a cage for urts. Well all that is left is a few verr, I guess and I'll have a complete menagerie. I did have to ask just what was he going to name the creature? The answer was more than suitable ... he would have to earn his name. Sounded good to me.

When the wagons slowed the following eve, I was ready for conversation with someone older than fourteen, make that seventeen. It was good to see Ramza. I had been worried about him since the storm. I worry, it is a given. His limp was noticeable but he assured me it was nothing but a bruise and a scratch. For as good as the Tuchuks are at bragging, they hold title rights to understatements too. I picked on him a little about not getting a word in edge wise with all of his chatter. He speaks to me more than most I guess but that isn't saying a lot. That pun fit well didn't it?

We talked of the damages the storm had brought. His girl was seeing the sewing of his canvas and he would see the painting on mine was redone when we reach the south. Then I spun the tale of the ferocious beast in the next wagon that had attacked a kur .. might have been a stuffed one but it was my story. About that time, the sleen tracked me to the fires dragging the stuffed kur along with it. It wasn't long before Me Too followed. I thought that was supposed to be the other way around. For a moment I watched to see if the insolence would bow up again with the warrior. It did in its own way. It came in announcing the bragging rights he had earned, 'Rusty said that I was doing good with the bow and maybe soon I could have my first scar'

I couldn't help thinking that both of them rarely talked but they seemed to have no trouble communicating between them. Especially when the warrior told him that he was sure one day he would be a great man. Made me all misty eyed. There was that moment that Me Too stood there silent, studying Ramza's features, putting them to memory before he grinned and told yes, He would be .. watch and see.

Did you hear that?

The lumbering of the wagons was enough to almost lull one to sleep on the flat open plateaus. I'd laughed and whooped until my sides ached watching the restlessness of the men and yes that included ones from yeah high to bent and gnarled racing and wagering along the straight ways. Training of the younger ones doesn't stop merely because we are on the move. Rusty,Wily, Me Too and First through .. lets just say several others, took advantage of this time to go out on kaiila back for some in the saddle practice with the horn bows. I had the opportunity to see a few of the shots and was suitably impressed. They left a dust trail behind them as they raced back to the wagons again filling the air with their triumphs and for others the dismay of defeat. Did you see, Linna, Did you see?

Yes, I did. Not only had I seen but made more than fair amount off the wagers as well. The outrider pulled in alongside them to lean off his saddle a little while he spoke with me. For as far behind as the boy had been when he had started his lessons, he had more than made up for it in the tenacity to learn. He said that he was doing well with the bow, well enough he may be able to earn his scars in the following seasons. I thanked Rusty for his belief and encouragement and enjoyed the flood of enthusiastic bragging that followed from my little charge. Did you hear that Linna, Did you hear that?

Yes, I did, an arahch. He didn't flinch and pull away as my hand traced the smoothness of his cheeks. There would come a time they would hold the fever of scarlet chevrons and if he survived he would be entitled the privileges of a warrior. There was no ambivalence there, just the desire to see the future unfold as it should My only ache was thinking of the name he would earn. It was something I needed to speak with Fonce about.

When he and Wily returned not long after, the duality of half man, half child came to focus for them both. Clutching the stems of bright yellow flowers that they had found, there was a genuineness to the smiles behind them. Me too had remembered the battles of Ubar of the tufts of grass and the solitary blossom that had defied the siege. I never knew he had noticed. Wily's offering of course had a bug clinging to a petal.

The day had been full and by the eve, meals were seen to and each of us were eager to find our furs. With the lack of sleep in the days prior, nodding off was no effort whatsoever. It was the wakening that I fought against. The high pitch keen seemed to invade everything. I half jumped from my mats when I heard a quiet whisper close by. Did you hear that, Linna? By the time my flap slid open, we were not alone. It seemed there were several others .. who heard that. Mia clutching one of the stuffed creatures we had made, tucked her head under my elbow and I tried not to wince. I didn't have to favor it as much but it was still tender. Sonny was right in among the mix, though his courage had him a step or two ahead of Me Too. Standing there with an ear half turned trying to hone in on the sound before I realized it was coming from the new wagon. I tried to get the children to stand back while I investigated. Why is it that men seem to sleep through things like this?

A cautious approach to pull the flap aside, left no doubt that what ever it was.. was in there. At the back of the wagon was a lump under a pile of furs that was growling, keening and scratching against the wood flooring. Now it takes a bit for the imagination to go through the list of things .. it can't be. There are no such things as ghosts, right? No, I refused to believe that Ebet had returned from the ashes to haunt us. Sonny had gained the stairs shoving the other boys back and where Sonny was, Mia was too. He grabbed the stuffed animal and threw it .. you use what weapon you have at the moment. We all watched in trepidation as it simply disappeared beneath the fur with a whole new series of eerie gruffs and growls.

Enough was enough, I was going to get to the bottom of this and see what mysterious monster was under there so I could go back to sleep ... hopefully. Charging across the interior of the wagon, I snagged the fur away not having any real idea if this was to be my last moment on Gor or not and low and behold, I got my answer ... there was a ferocious beast.

Horizon

The wise man said just walk this way
To the dawn of the light
The wind will blow into your face
As the years pass you by
Hear this voice from deep inside
Its the call of your heart
Close your eyes and your will find
The passage out of the dark
The wise man said just find your place
In the eye of the storm
Seek the roses along the way
Just beware of the thorns
The wise man said just raise your hand
And reach out for the spell
Find the door to the promised land
Just believe in yourself
Hear this voice from deep inside
Its the call of your heart
Close your eyes and your will find
The way out of the dark
Here I am Will you send me an angel
Here I am In the land of the morning star
Scorpions

I couldn't remember how long it had been since I woke before the dawn, but I was there to greet the central fire when it rose. While the heat of a rich bowl of blackwine began to ebb through my senses and rouse me from the want to slide back beneath my furs for a few ahns more, I watched the colors light the sky. A red dawn. The storm was nearing the sea. It was more the formation of the clouds against the horizon that intrigued me. I guess it is a childhood phase to watch the clouds and pick out shapes to give name to. This one looked like a fairytale image of an angel holding an open book. Wishful thinking on my part to want one of my own, but it couldn't hurt ... could it? Was this my own personal omen of things to come?

Everyone was chomping at the bit to press onward to the proverbial greener pastures. Tug was straining to evade the wash of his face and hands and telling Talia that he heard his Momma calling got him out of it. He was off in a flash. Not long after the wagons began to roll once again, I fell in among them on one of the new kaiila. Of the tawny gold pair, one female, one male, I chose Paz, the smaller, more feminine of them. She had been named well. The demeanor was a quiet one .. peaceful. The stallion was Maelstrom. Quite fitting. The name would stay.

I gave in to thinking of the past few days, not the storm but of the woman I'd met. It seemed as if I'd known her all my life. She was quickly becoming an obsession, an addiction. This surprises you, I'm sure. I heard the voice behind me and didn't have to turn around to look. It just brought a smile. 'You aren't singing.' Riding closer to where Deenyet perched behind the reins, we simply fell into conversation again. The envars had been good to her, the fullness of her figure and the crinkle at the corners of her eyes couldn't hide that she had been stunningly beautiful in her youth. Even now she carried herself with a quiet grace and elegance. Deenyet. I mused over her name. The pronunciation so similar to dignity in another language.

She and I talked and talked for what seemed half the day before I realized there was another rider not far behind. Shifting in my saddle so I could see him better, then pulled the leather straps aside to let him by. When I moved, he moved right back in behind me. There was merriment in the older woman's eyes as she took in the whole thing, then introduced me to a close friend of hers, Sage. He was a tall lanky man with elongated fingers that seemed to wash through the air when they moved. They matched the rest of his physique. It was his face I found most interesting, more than scars chiseled his features. They were marked with the stories of his life along the sides of his mouth, around his chin all the way up to the stripes on his brow then into the fading hairline over his temples. A thinker. I liked him immediately.

I wondered if they were mates but a quick assurance came that they were just friends .. good friends. If I hadn't had such terrible skills at matchmaking, I would ... no never mind, I wouldn't. My talents in that area were beyond horrible. But that would be how it was, the three of us together, riding together, eating together, laughing and singing together the rest of the day .. and the next .. and the next.

My reverie was disrupted by the Tuchuk equivalent of 'Are we there yet'... 'are we there yet?' It came in the grumbles of being hungry from more than one of my young charges. My new friend showed me a different recipe for serving jerky, a bit of browned sugar and spices rubbed over the surface then rinsed with redfruit juice. Where did she get redfruit juice from this time of envar? There was a chuckle and a whisper, she'd send me some of the dried powder later. It was a big hit with the others and it was hard to keep up with the demand for more.

Regathering

Where love is great,
the littlest doubts are fear;
Where little fears grow great,
great love grows there.
~ Hamlet 3:2

A finger running its edge across my cheek was felt in the softer places inside. My own fingers reaching up to hold it there with tenderness. I couldn't stop the moisture that formed at my lashes, the tale telling of emotions refusing to hide. Searching for refuge in the dark eyes that held mine, she studied what she saw for a moment. So much the maternal mirror that it had stilled me there. In her own was the glimmer of knowing, of understanding, hearing a heart's beat. There was unspoken query that I let silence answer.

It felt selfish to take the time from tending to wagons, preparations of pyres and aligning Ebet's second wagon in with mine. Duran felt that of the two the warrior owned, that he would wish me to have it, the bosk and the kaiila with exception of his favored. He had no other family but me.

For now, there was a gentle pat on my hand and the bid to follow, it seemed tea was cure all for everything, this one lightly spiced. One thing I would learn, she told me, was caring for myself would insure there was strength enough to care for others, eat well, rest when there was time, laugh and carry a song in my heart. Everyone has a song inside about bosk and a few for the other important things as well. I wanted to lay my head in her lap and feel the stroke of soft hands through my hair, the reassurance that it would have brought. Perhaps she would have wished that too.

I felt I had taken enough of her time though she hushed me with a quiet reprimand and a bid for me to return when I could. I would enjoy that, purely selfishly, to soak her up, to savor just being around her and watching and learning. I promised to bring some browned sugar nut pastries and that was met with a warm smile. Before I turned to go, I felt something pressed to my palm though I didn't look until I was back within that little sanctuary once more.

It was a precious moment of quiet inside while the boys were helping see to the refitting of a new tongue and the girls were patching canvas. Unfurling my hand, revealed a small strip of parchment and a sentiment I had heard long ago. I smiled at the familiarity of the charcoal. I put it away safely and rose to help see everything readied once more for the trail.

Having to favor my arm merely aggravated me that I couldn't do more. I now had three wagons to care for, though one still belonged to Cana, twelve bosk, and three kaiila. Not how I would have wished the acquisition but there was still the pride of carrying part of Ebet on toward the horizon. The time which the wagons needed repair hadn't allowed much rest.

It would be late into the night before the blue kaiila wagon was finished. When morning came, all of our rolling homes would be there waiting for the dawn. Cana had made sure I ate earlier in the eve and since there were already two warm cuddlies in my furs, I found comfort in Wilybugs. While I ran the brush through my hair, I couldn't help reaching up to touch my cheek.

Life comes at you fast

It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style.
Oscar Wilde

We had begun to relax within the comforts of routine. There was a flow to the change of riding alongside the wagons, walking away the kinks or manning the reins of the teams. Each had their responsibilities and expanded within them like the good fit of a glove. This morning, however, was proving difficult to make any time whatsoever. Braced against the winds that were beginning to pick up, the animals were becoming abrasive and belligerent.

It had been one of those glances back over my shoulder looking for some sign or hint of those not with us, that I spied Dracko and his rider. They were bearing down on the cluster of wagons like a vart out of a cave. Ramza had noticed the coming of the storm and was furiously trying to direct the lines of wagons in on themselves to create a barrier of protection. There was going to be very little time to shield against the onslaught. We barely saw the bosk unhitched before it hit.

Rather than send the children to their prospective homes, they were ushered into whatever wagon was closest. Birmah would be tossed a few of the smaller ones to defend before I made sure the scattering of my little group was in the security of mine. Winds rising in their intensity began rocking our homes on their axles, mine was severe enough to bounce and land hard. You could hear the crackle of wood as the tongue fractured. The eerie angle of it dredged in the ground would be what anchored it more firmly in its spot.

Without the luxury of extra weight, I had to hold tight to the railing to keep from being blown away. I had no wish for a repeat of the last moves lessons on flying. From there, I had a slight vantage point to watch as one of the wagons further down the row was picked up off its wheels and rolled into splinters. Another began to sway precariously on its side. You never know how touching it is to see heroism in action until you have witnessed it first hand. There was Ramza darting into the face of the storm itself to scoop up a little girl just before the canvas side rolled down to crush her. When a broken remnant of a chest hit the back of his thigh, I thought he was going to go down. He didn't. His approach with her wrapped in his arms came with the look of pain and the obvious favoring of that leg and commands to get inside. I would have if I could have turned loose long enough.

The last I saw of him, he was handing her off to one of the other women. Another strong gust drove me into the side of the platform pinning my elbow in between with a wince of pain. I am grateful for Ebet, he was the strength to see me shoved up over the rail with barked orders that backed up the former with an added 'stay there'. I didn't need to be told three times.

Inside, it seemed like ahn after ahn passed, listening to the roars of the gale and watching as it ripped at the lacings of the canvas until new streamers were made of the loose edges. I held on tight to the brood of youth that were there with me, quietly humming some far away lullaby. They joined in to make the melody a half prayer for the quiet to return again.

When it did, it had a weight to it that bore down on all of our shoulders. We all emerged slowly to begin picking up the pieces. The damages had been far sweeping and for some eternal. Ebet was gone.

Have you met ...

The children have been bit subdued from their usual selves. Homesick or mommasick is a better term for the ones that aren't with their immediate families. Tuchuk are strong and even the youngest of them go on day to day regardless of what comes. I'm not sure I could have handled so many if they were at full smoke. I had heard that you know how well you have raised your children when they visit someone elses' home. They had their chance and I can say all in all I am proud of them.

The move is kind of like a mixer as some of the lines made better time than others. A variety of faces you haven't seen or haven't seen in a while come and go throughout the day and evening.

Batzorig caught sight of Shanay and I grabbed her arm putting her behind me with one of those ohh no you don't even think about it looks. He was still trying to see the girl or what he could of her when he almost rode his kaiila over the top of two older freewomen. Last I saw of him or the women, they were still whopping his shins and leg and the beast was sidestepping not to get the brunt of it. That girl never gave him a second glance. Wheeew. Seriously though there aren't any books or scrolls on Tuchuk within the harigga but if you want to see the depths of a people .. watch their young. There was every virtue known to man written there as well as more than a few vices.

Gabriel met Nine and they seemed to get along well. The youngest brother of two families, both with a penchant for the kaiila. Cana's brother and I began showing the other one how to feed and care for the animals and he made sure to stop by each day to learn more. I'd promised to check on the warrior's family although the first approach was filled with nervousness. That washed away with the welcoming smile and the acceptance of extra hands to help. Wily was about to swat a hand against a bottom when she so calmly turned and filled it with a ladle with a bent handle. She'd heard about how well he was doing at the forge, could he fix that? I have no doubt my admiration for her skills shone on every bit of my features.

It wasn't merely Tribe faces that filtered to the evening fires, there was a stranger at them one night as well. My reaction surprised me. Dweller healer, here? I was leary and instantly defensive until I heard he was a friend of Kam and Tarra's. There was even a smile seeing my friend smile. She argues that no one but Tuchuk will touch her when it comes time for the babe to arrive, but without Silk and Falon ... I could only pipe in that I've delivered baby kaiila .. everything will be fine.

Some of the time was spent just enjoying time with the children. Amid the this one said, and that one did, snail ooze in Mia's hair, Forth Son getting punched for tugging Talia's hair, sleen helped us make stuffed jits from old stuff in forgotten trunks. We made one for every one, even a pink one. The boys actually helped too, once they got the bright idea that theirs could be used for bola practice. Aim improved with each round until the stuffings began to spill out. There was a shrub and a bramble bush that accidently got hurt. My apologies to the Gorean Wild Weed Preservation Society.

I suppose the most striking moment was when Ramza came by the wagon. He was a curiosity for the boys and Me Too decided that enough had invaded his territory. Wily, Tug and First through Ninth Sons of various families was as much as he was going to allow. Skirting his mount close to where we walked, he raised a short lance in the air and yelled to the top of his lungs his lineage. You had to be there. I told him the man was a good friend and I expected him to be treated as such and put that down before he hurt someone he didn't mean to. He jutted his jaw defiantly and made it look like he lowered the lance on his terms .. not mine. Ramza took it all in stride and simply greeted him with his own lineage. Over all it was a stalemate I think but the warrior did lean over chuckling to tell me that he thought I had an admirer. Well maybe so .. until bath time anyway. You could not take the grin off my face or the song that went with me everywhere I went after that. I was so proud of my boy.

Pied Piper

I began weaving through the columns of wagons .. seeing who was and was not here. It was more than an icy cold that shivered through me ... Silk's children were here but not Silk. There were others besides hers. I checked each one then, not rousing or waking their slumbers.

I don't think I have ever felt anything so ... I had no words for how this felt and in my heart of hearts ... I hope you don't either.

In the morning, there would be a shift in the rows. They would remain close to the wagons of the kaiila clan and those would move up as well. Here was the future of the Tribe and somewhere else were the rest. I felt like the Pied Piper. I just sort of whispered to the wind .. 'They are safe. I'll help watch over them ... until you return.' Have you ever done that? Or maybe just had a feeling in that soft spot beneath your breast that calmed things? Here is the spoiler for everyone. I don't have any magical powers, I'm just a woman but then ... everyone knows women have a sense among themselves that no one really questions.

There wasn't much time to pluck through all that anyway. I was proud new caretaker for more than a baker's dozen, one of which I watched begin moving his things into my wagon. There's Me Too, Second Son of Duran who is close friend of Forth Son of Gideon. No, not that Gideon, the other one, Duran's brother. You thought there was only one? To him, there is one and only one that matters and I don't argue with him. Third Son of Duran is close friends with Me Too so they are always hanging around the older boys. Now add Silk's pride of little larls including Forth Son ... the red headed wonder, and toss the youngest brother of an arrogant warrior in there and it becomes interesting really quick. Did I not just ask friends a few days before if they could see me surrounded by children? I'm not sure which phrase best describes it all, 'Careful of what you wish for', or 'Here's your sign.'

Can't forget Tug. He was part of this new gathering and put his two coppers worth of opinion in when Wily and I had a terrible dispute over the urts. No way were there going to be any urts in my wagon ... snakes, lizards, worms and bugs I would put up with but NO URTS. Tug leaned over to tell the breaded Tuchuk pretty as you please ... 'Wench nags.' I was ready to snag an ear and half walk some of them back to another wagon ... didn't matter whose just not my private little sanctuary, letting them All know ... only one warrior called me wench. But there was that stop me in my tracks and try not to crack up when Cana's son said with aplomb ... 'See told you.'

Head 'em up ... mooooove 'em out

One of those baubles of insight would become evident almost immediately during the beginning of the move. What is simply common knowledge among the Tribe, I had still yet to learn. When the wagons started to move, I went right along with them. Not that I would have stayed behind .. where the clan went, I went or better, where Cana did so did I.

There were some rocky spots in getting the wheels loose and rolling but the new foals thought it was an adventure and so did the boys. Their thirst and awe of life and all that it brings is inspiring as well as contagious. It's like holding on to the leash of an overgrown sleen .. just hang on tight and enjoy the scenery.

There is a magesty to the thunder of the Tuchuk on the move. Colored banners waving in the wind, a full palette of ferocity and wonder painting the plains with the togetherness of Tribe. The ground shook with the multitudes and the dust rolled beneath them to leave a wide columned plume as far back as the eye could see.

In the trail weary evenings when the wagons were pulled to a stop, makeshift camps and fires began to dot virgin territory ... then familiar faces were missed. You would think in the midst of so many tens of thousands that one face or another would sort of blend in. They don't. They don't, when you are used to hearing the laughter, the stories, the feeling of closeness of having loved ones near by. We fight, we argue, we kiss, we make up but we do it .. together. We live and love and laugh the same way. The absences were felt deep and along the edges worry had slid into a nice little ritual of its own.

I wish that hard headed arrogant warrior had not returned to the north but I knew his honor was strong enough he would. For the chatterbox I can be, I left some things unsaid. I was going to worry myself sick and I knew it but in the end, it was much like it had been long ago and far away, turning loose with a bid to ride well and proud. I watched until there was no more dust to be seen in the wake of the kaiila's claws.

When I left the gathering of those wagons, I went to speak with the one that felt like a brother. He had already been preparing to saddle up the next morning to see about strays .. the four legged kind so two legged was no problem. He left that night as well.

Neither made a promise of return more than if the Skies were willing but it touched a tender spot to hear it said ... I'll be back.