Chapter 14. The Pleasant Drummer
Put aside your rages, righteous, true
No more can they help now, only harm
-from “The Book Of Hayat”
Artemis' guardian began to negotiate with the guardian of the young woman who was playing her
cymbals, singing softly to herself off in the distance, well before the human women would be able to
see one another. An alliance could be helpful to both of them:
”Hello, young guardian, good day to you and your charge.”
”And to you and yours. Do you have any idea what all of the commotion is about in the Palace? No
other human beings have come by, but even so, my charge is very sensitive and seems to be picking up
on some of the reports.”
”How interesting that your charge can sense our communications. She must be a very special one,
indeed. Well, I can tell you, but the problem is that my charge is in a tremendous hurry, for she has
forgotten some items that belong to Crown Prince Janoj, and she must at all cost recover them before
the loss is discovered.”
This made no sense to the younger guardian, who decided to overlook the issue, seeking common
ground, replying: ”Yes, I can sympathize, she would be severely punished. Can we help in any way?”
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This was extremely good to hear, as most guardians were so afraid of the entity that they would keep
themselves and their charges as far away as possible from anything having to do with the royal family.
Perhaps they could come to an accord to help one another, since there was clearly something unusual
about this young woman and her guardian. Unusual people were not treated well in the city of Janoj.
”Well, we do not want to cause any hardships for you and your charge. If you could just do us the
favor of not noticing that we came this way, that will be enough. Tell me, if you would, by which road
do you plan to return to the city today. We will take another road in coming back.”
”Actually, we will not be returning. My charge has made up her mind to leave the city and find a place
which is a bit more tolerant of differences.”
”Really, where is she thinking of going?”
”Well, that is just the problem. She does not know where she wants to go. She came this far, sat down
to decide what to do next, and here we are hours later. She seems to be getting a bit restless, although
she has not realized it yet, and will be wanting to go in some direction shortly, but she still has not
decided where. She is very young, and has not had an easy life thus far, so an older woman to guide
her would be a good thing.”
“My charge´s name is Drums Nicely, but she prefers to be called Naamah. What is your charge
called?”
”Listen, young guardian, before I answer your question, perhaps we can reach an agreement. We also
urgently need to leave the city, before we are pursued. I see my charge will soon be within sight of
yours, so can we talk further after we smooth the way for our charges conversation?”
“Certainly.” The younger guardian moved to nearer her charge, whispering in Naamah´s ear that the
woman approaching was probably a friend and seemed to be in a great hurry.
The older woman´s guardian moved back to Artemis: “The young woman up ahead may make a good
traveling companion.”
The date palm offered less shade now, the sun having moved to the other side of her rock. As Drums
Nicely looked up, unfolding her legs, she saw movement in the distance. A woman was jogging her
way at a steady pace. Alone. Perhaps the friend whose whisper she sometimes heard knew why.
“My unseen friend, why is this woman in such a hurry? Is there some way I can help?.”
Naamah, to her delight, sensed the reply: “Run with her!”
She gathered her bag to her waist and tied her hair, lifting her shawl from a branch to cover her arm.
She ran to meet the older woman running along the edge of the road leading West, waving a friendly
greeting. Seeing that the older woman was very richly dressed, she hailed her as they met, running
together,
”My lady, I see that you are in great haste, and I wonder if I may be of service to you in some way.”
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Artemis fought down the jab of fear in her stomach. What was this stranger carrying, waving with her
left arm rather than her right? Then again, she seemed friendly enough. “Yes, thank you my daughter,
I am in great need, as I must with all speed get away from this city, but I do not wish to put you in any
danger, so I must tell you that if you follow me, you may put your very own life at risk. Think
carefully my daughter.” How nice it was to have at least one descendent with good manners, Artemis
thought.
”It is no matter, my Lady, for I had already decided to leave this city, and had no idea in which
direction to go. If your danger is mortal, my Lady, then let us keep silent and run for as long as we can
before we stop to rest in a good hiding place. I know of a few caves along this road where we may be
able to evade the horses. Follow me, and please tell me, my Lady, if you need me to slow down for
you.”
”Lead on my Daughter, and many heartfelt thanks.” Again the nagging fear, as the girl fell in behind
her. How did she know of hiding places? What was she hiding?
As the women jogged, their guardian's, transmitted back and forth:
“What family does your charge come from that she wishes to run away from Janoj?”
”Naamah, is the sister of Tuval-Cain, the inventor of copper and iron tools. I am sure you know of him.
Naamah has been presented at the palace recently, and now there is talk of making her part of the royal
harem, which she does not want to join. The rich clothing of your charge shows that she must be from
the Palace. Do you feel safe telling me who your charge is, now that we are fleeing together?”
”I can see why Naamah needs to leave. I have avoided sending any reports so as not to lead the entity
to us, but we are leaving for the land in the north west, at the top of the Great Sea, said to be empty of
all but snakes and caves. My charge hopes that she will be able to found a colony for those such as
Naamah, who wish to be free of the on their bodies and minds. She will teach them to hunt, to fight, to
swim, to ride horses, and to learn all that there is to learn, even to draw words in the sand, to preserve
knowledge from one generation to the next. They will work together to keep each other safe. My
charge is the Lady Artemis, formerly known as the Lady Aclima, Queen Mother of Janoj.”
”With the wife of King Evren, leaving the Palace, and the city, we are certain to have trouble.
Amazing. And the things you say that she wishes to teach, truly amazing. These are not things that
women are allowed to learn even in the Western cities, from the reports I hear, and from what they tell
our charges, of course.”
“Even back west, so near the First Woman, they are not taught?” Better, then, not to transmit anything
until my charge finds her mother.
“Just to keep them in line. Apparently the influence of the First Man and Woman does not extend very
far.” The younger woman's guardian transmitted a report: “Collecting dates.”
”Yes, like in the city. This is why they must be taught. My charge at last has the tools she needs to
teach them, and to become the person whom she has always wished to become. She has decided to
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create a thought-form.”
”Is that yet possible for the human beings? So soon, to create new thought-forms?” The surprised
younger guardian transmitted an embarrassing burst of static.
”This is an ancient thought-form taking on new life, but she knows of it, and had placed herself in the
path to follow it through to completion.”
”Will the Great Creator not be angry?” The next transmission went: “Out for a walk, picking dates.”
“He is neither great, nor is he the sole creator. It seems that the Creatrix has had some sort of a break
with the Creator, and that she is now more amenable to allowing us to learn more than when they
originally designed this universe. The only way that can happen is if we all cooperate, otherwise they
will simply end the entire experiment, and our existences along with it. If they still have the power to
do so, that is.”
Both women stopped briefly as the younger woman dropped her shawl, covering her right arm as she
turned to retrieve it. Artemis again wondered what the girl could be hiding, relieved that it was no
weapon of concern, as it could not be very large. Not a sword nor a bow.
”Do you mean to say that the power of the Gr- the Ancient Warrior is not unlimited, then?”
”It most certainly is not unlimited. Observe for yourself, have you not noticed that as the human and
guardian population increases, the Ancient Warrior transmits less?”
“True.”
”Our existence is limited, and so we have a reason to apply ourselves to some great problem before we
expire with our charges. Does this make sense?”
“It does, and it inspires me.”
A photon sparked.
Drums Nicely stopped, wheezing: “Did you see that?”
Artemis looked about as the younger woman struggled to catch her breath. “No, but I suggest we take
a break and drink some water before we go on.”
The older guardian transmitted: “I see helping our charges to be the greatest possible problem to which
we can aspire to apply ourselves, and will gladly give all of my existence in that endeavor. What more
can any being do? To have nothing to look forward to accomplishing down the millenia, perhaps that
would become a pointless existence. Yet we have a purpose, and a great purpose, in helping to mold a
compassionate and cooperative civilization or set of civilizations with these human beings, to see if
they can create and sustain something that will guarantee the fulfillment of the full potential of each
human being born. That is a noble and worthy purpose, to me, at least.”
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”Friend, I could not agree more.”
…
Night was falling, and they were still not far enough away.
“My Lady, are you ready to stop? I begin to tire, we have been running for so long!”
”No my daughter, we must keep on if you can, for the horses will run much faster, and they will not
stop until they find us, unless we have crossed some great river before they do.”
”Alright then, we shall continue on. Let us hold hands My Lady,” she extended her left arm, “if you do
not mind so that I will not lose you as the light fails. Once night comes, the darkness closes in very
quickly out here.”
How long it had been since any human touch had not been in malice. Since the touch of her beloved
Anne. The girl looked apologetic, clearly meaning no insult by giving her left arm. Yet she offered no
explanation. ”That is a good my daughter. They will not expect us to continue running after
sundown.” Artemis stopped short of asking.
The two women continued to run along any rocks they could find, keeping to the edge of the road, not
speaking. When the strength of both women began to fail, they looked about for a cave, brushing out
their tracks as they walked backward from the road, and Naamah slept while Artemis, still trying not to
think of herself as the sister or wife of Evren, watched for riders. In a few hours, she gently shook the
younger woman awake, and at last Artemis slept while Naamah kept watch. When the sun arose, they
both sat up, thirsty, and realized that they could not drink from any of the water gourdes stored along
the road for travelers, lest they be discovered. So they continued on their way.
”Look My Lady, here is a well, and we must drink or we will not be able to go on.” She wrapped her
shawl about her right arm before picking up a gourd.
Artemis noticed the nervous glance the young woman gave her, and turned her back, pretending to
search for a gourd. They drank and continued on their way, with a sense of guarded but growing trust.
They were entering a lush green tree filled watering spot just off of the road, with date palms, fig and
olive trees and a large well where a few drinking vessels had been left for travelers. No one was about,
as, the heat of the day began, but it would not be long before other people appeared.
”You are quite right my Daughter. Let us drink quickly and then strike off to the north, toward the
large open land at the top of the Great Sea.”
”My lady, how do you know that that land really exists?”
”I learned about it from my anne, my mother, who journeyed there long ago.”
”But My Lady, no one from Janoj has been that far west, not even the mighty Evren.”
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”But I have, my Daughter, for you are truly my daughter, or rather , one of my great great great great
granddaughters, if I count the generations correctly. I am, or I was, the wife of Evren, as he called me,
but really his twin sister, the very one forbidden to him.”
The younger woman nearly dropped her gourd, eyes widening: ”You are the Lady Aclima, the Queen
Mother?” The shawl slipped as the young woman bowed, revealing a livid scar that ran the length of
the girl's forearm. She looked up as the shawl fell, her face the color of burnished copper.
Artemis gently lifted the girl by the right hand, holding her gaze. ”Yes, or I was until yesterday. Now I
have taken a new name. Or, an old name, really.” Old eyes met younger ones, understanding that
explanation were not required.
“And what name is that, My Lady?”
“Artemis.”
”But what could have happened, My Lady, My Great Ancestress, to drive you from the Palace? And
why now, at, forgive me, your advanced age? It has been seven generations since the founding of the
city, more or less. Why leave now?”
”Because, my Daughter, I have killed the founder of the city. I have killed my brother Evren. Many
years, seven generations, in fact, after he killed our brother Vacío, and forced me to become his wife.”
”The forbidden story! So it is true! I was told by one of the servant girls in our home that emissaries
arrived from the west, not long ago. She was chosen as a sacrifice the next day. That was when I
decided to leave. They were planning to marry me off to an old man. Oh, I am sorry, My Lady, Great
Ancestress, it must pain you terribly to hear of how your children hurt each other.”
”Not to worry, my Daughter, I have seen my share of sorrow, and I know how we human beings are
made. Our challenge is to rise above our baser instincts, and to this end I dedicate what remains of my
life.”
”If you have killed mighty Evren, then you must must have endured much.“ Her eyes fell to her arm.
So that was it. Artemis realized, disappointed, that she had been right. The silence hung heavily as
they jogged past a grove of date palms.
”Let us gather more water and pick these dates to eat with us as we go...” Bundling up dates in her
tunic, Artemis realized that she had not asked the young woman about her own story. “Tell me of your
own words, and why you did not wish to live in the Palace, if you desire to tell me, my daughter.”
”My Lady...”
“Wait, please, just call me Artemis. Enough of formality and pomp. Please, go on.”
“Well, as you know, Artemis, “ hesitating, the young woman felt self-conscious, and looked to the
older woman who sat drinking water and waited, as the older woman nodded to her, while both
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guardians whispered words of encouragement for her to continue. “I come from the family which
invented the first musical instruments. I love to sing and dance, privately of course, with my cymbals,
and I also play the drums. They call me Drums Nicely, but I really prefer my own name and words,
which I was forbidden to use.”
“No one will punish you here for using your own words and name, my Daughter. We are the first of a
circle, and there is room for each gift in a circle. So, what would you have me call you?”
”Naamah.”
… Back West …
The messengers had still not returned. They had been sent east months ago, and their delay did
not bode well. Both had been competent young men, having passed all of the tests set by Hayat. After
much debate, they had decided at the last meeting not to send any more messengers, Fijo speaking for
all of them in overruling Hayat's desire to go by herself.
Just as she was sitting down in mute fury, a boy arrived with the two new slats for Fijo's shelter.
His had been the first constructed, and was starting to cave in on one corner. The change in topic
relieved everyone, except for Hayat. They had agreed, to her consternation, that the first woman was
too old to undertake the long and perilous journey. Her husband, remaining silent throughout the
meeting, also appeared relieved to be moving on the the discussion of maintenance and the scarcity of
wood nearby. Hayat, disgusted, rose to leave the meeting. What has become, she wondered, of my
oldest daughter. Does she still love to run, chasing the gazelles?
Chapter 15. Discoveries
Your fury, Father, I feel
your anger, I know
-from “The Book Of Hayat”
Waiting in the throne room, the Crown Prince fumed at the delay. The door to Evren´s private audience
chamber remained closed. What was keeping the King from answering his call? Had some chance
occurrence sent Evren into one of his unpredictable foul moods? The chief steward reported that the
King's private guards were ordered out when the Queen Mother had arrived, but that was hours ago.
No one knew when, or even if, the Queen herself had left.
“My Prince,” reported the steward, “The throne room guards on duty have been caught napping.”
“Steward, have these two slothful guards impaled with their pillows above their heads, as is the policy
of Mighty Evren, the King. Fools such as these were clearly born to provide a warning to others. They
should rejoice in having fulfilled their life´s missions to such obvious good effect.”
As the steward ordered the two now very wakeful guards taken to the Garden of Pain, bringing new
guards to take their place, Crown Prince Janoj worried that something was wrong.
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Deciding to risk the King´s wrath, Prince Janoj finally entered the hall leading to the audience chamber.
As he opened the chamber door, dust and the smell of blood assailed his senses, filling his nostrils, until
he nearly began to retch. The head of Mighty Evren lay where it had come to rest on the floor, beside
the shattered remains of the sword which had struck it from his shoulders. Both were covered by a
layer of dust and ruble where the vaulted ceiling had fallen in. The guards must have left their posts to
have missed this.
The blood encrusted along the remains of the blade showed that it had been used to accomplish the
beheading. Having been presided over many executions, Janoj knew it was not easy to decapitate a
man, even with the new sword forged by Lamej. He saw at once the fury of his father's killer. While
his father had not mistreated him in the way that he had so many others, Janoj could easily imagine the
motives and names of several men capable of this deed. Lamej himself was at the top of the list.
Finding his father dead left Janoj with mixed feelings. The Mighty Evren, founder of the first of all
cities of men. Ruthless, despotic, and cruel, even his firstborn son Janoj had not been immune to his
tyranny. Nevertheless, the oath beaten into him from his youth sprang to his lips: “Father, you shall be
avenged. I invoke Vengeance, and bring your mightiest warriors for this sacred purpose. We will find
and punish the man responsible for this crime. His head shall be impaled at your feet.” The monotone
words tasted stale in his mouth, like the day old bits of matzah ritually thrown to the beggars after his
feasts. This ritual, like those, showed devotion to duty. The next would show his devotion to justice.
Janoj´s guardian shuddered, recording and reporting the anticipation of blood in the mind of his charge.
Janoj set his jaw, raising his chin as his pulse quickened. He threw back his head as he turned toward
the chamber door, shouting, “Steward! The King is dead! Strike down every tenth man from among
the Palace Guards for allowing this murder to take place under their very noses! Then, fetch the
Jartumim, that we may divine who has done this thing, and prepare the Ritual of War. We shall execute
such judgment upon the wretch, he will regret that his mother ever brought him into the light of day!”
Those guards who remained would be more vigilant henceforth. “Guard, find the Queen Mother, and
bring her to come at once.” The guard bowed and went to find a messenger. Janoj contemplated his
next step.
…
The Light Bearer continued to monitor messages as she whispered in Hayat's ear, using the barest
touch of static electricity to caress the soft nape of feminine neck and along the shoulder down the side
of the ribcage and the curve of her hips, softly caressing, unseen by either human being, reminding the
woman of her presence.
Her husband was only aware, and grateful, that his wife had stopped refusing him, as he continued to
smooth her hair while gently making love to her. While they had had more children over the years,
many had gone astray, leaving the company and guidance of the first couple. Now only one small
group remained with them, the rest scattered in an increasingly violent world.
Sensing that the first man was about to mention his hope for more children, the Light Bearer,
transmitting into the mind of the man, interrupted “Tell her you love her. Say nothing more.” The
man, momentarily startled, obeyed.
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“Hayat, Mi Vida, I love you.”
Hayat knew that it was probably the Kind One, her Beloved, prompting him to say this.
“Thank you. And I you.”
They held hands as he parted from her, careful to kiss her softly on the crown of her head as he pulled
the covers over her and tucked her in, quietly leaving her tent.
This had been the only way to convince Hayat to return to her husband and bear more children. She
had effectively lost four of her first five children, her sons dead or gone, one daughter taken away by
force, the other lost in her own mind. The slightest noise still sent her back to the ground in fetal
position. Hayat had parted from her husband, needing time to heal. Her remaining daughter, Azura,
still refused to speak of those painful events, or indeed of any of her childhood. Otherwise functional,
she had gone with her mother, taking herbs, berries and messages from her mother to her father.
Nearly ten years had passed before the Light Bearer, had persuaded Hayat to resume relations with her
husband. She had had to explain that the Creator would wipe them all out if she refused to reproduce,
and that humanity deserved a chance to try to build the kind of community for which Hayat had hoped
in those early years.
An alarming report arrived of an errant guardian planning to use human male to feed her additional
matter, converting it into energy. Worse, it seemed to have happened before, and the additional energy
had also benefited an unauthorized entity which was controlling all guardians throughout the area
where Evren had fled with his unfortunate twin sister. If this report got to the Ancient Warrior, he was
likely to stop the experiment entirely, which meant ending the existences of all human beings and
guardians. The Light Bearer was surprised at the great sadness which suddenly overtook her, realizing
that she had come to love even the children of this human woman, deeply.
Now, with the implications of this report, something had to be done, and quickly, before the Ancient
Warrior overreacted. Fortunately, reports tended to reach her sooner, since she gave wider latitude to
the supervising guardians who reported to her. Their initiative in dealing with minor problems tended
to speed up reports of potentially important problems, like this one. Now this policy was paying off.
“Guardian,” she transmitted the supervising guardian from whom the report had come, “you will speak
with your counterpart, who reports to the Ancient Warrior, and tell him that there is a problem with
some other group supervising guardian which is directly affecting the first man, and ask if he can
investigate. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Creatrix. You wish to distract them long enough to deal with this succubus yourself, I
believe?” intuited the supervising guardian.
“Correct. Well done, and thank you.” She wondered if perhaps this would become a danger in the
future, but needed to transmit more instructions, and so put the concern aside for the moment.
“I am happy to serve you, My Creatrix,” beamed the guardian, pleased at the compliment.
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Now the Light Bearer had to find a way to uncover the extent of the damage caused by this former
guardian, and isolate the effects as much as possible. Extending her essence out west to the palace, she
sensed the still erratic emissions of the entity, noting the absence of Evren's guardian. This entity must
have been nearly destroyed when Evren was killed, and the instantiation automatically canceled.
“There is more, My Creatrix,” beamed the supervising guardian, “something about a hidden copy or
memory being used to alter human women, which makes no sense.”
“Find out more,” ordered the Light Bearer, “and report back to me with the details, please.”
She knew the Creator had set aside part of his essence as an energy source in order to better attend to
monitoring his reports. This source was used to automatically instantiate new guardians, but he still
seemed to be drained by the constant minutia of details from limited intelligence guardians. This must
have kept him from noticing the death of Evren. Fortunately, he was more concerned with the general
sweep of human history, than the lives of individual human beings. Now it only remained to prevent
this entity in the east from being revived by the energy boost it would revive from this so-called
succubus.
“Guardian,” the Light Bearer transmitted directly to the still feeble guardian of Crown Prince Janoj, on
whom she kept a close eye, despite not telling anyone. “Send me all of your reports.”
Startled, the Prince's guardian replied “Yes, My Creatrix.”
She noted that much information had been suppressed by the entity, hiding the level of threat it
represented. “You will stay aside, as normal, during the ritual, until this former guardian has had her
fill, and then just when she is ready to convert the additional mass she gains from Prince Janoj, you will
move your own shield around the inside of the circle and capture her excess energy, just before it is
sent out. Do you understand, Guardian?”
“Yes, my Creatrix, I understand, but if you please, the entity that rules Evren and the City of Janoj
will...”
“Do not fear,” interrupted the Light Bearer, “just do as I say, and intercept the extra energy. I will deal
with the rest. Report directly to me when you have finished. Is that clear?”
“Yes, My Creatrix,” bowed the Crown Prince's guardian, fearfully.
The Light Bearer continued to ponder this mysterious difficulty the Ancient Warrior seemed to be
having. If his essence was unlimited, as he had always claimed, then why was the instantiation source
even necessary at all? Why could he not simply draw upon more of his unlimited, though nonreflective,
energy?
…
My bluff is failing, realized the Ancient Warrior. A small black cloud formed and disappeared, so little
spare energy did the Creator have, now.
The sparks required to allow reporting capability for each new carbon object and life form required
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additional energy output on his part, but those were minimal compared to the energy he spent to
instantiate new guardians. The sparks within each corporeal object or being, required to allow their
guardians to measure and report on the status of each object came directly from him. These sparks did
not greatly affect his essential connection to multiverse. Instantiating large numbers of new
supervising guardians, however, which needed to have far higher levels functionality, was a different
concern entirely. Without the help of the young Creatrix, he would be forced to contract his essence,
and thus be unable to keep contact with the other universes. Should that occur, she could move about
between universes without his knowledge. That would leave him vulnerable.
Chapter 16. Contention in the Wind
Let my wings embrace you
As my arms
Hold each part of you...
-from “The Book Of Hayat”
The dust mote group guardian was becoming annoyed. The slave girl's guardian was taunting, while
the girl swept the street in front of the workshop. Some guardians were rather aggressive toward
others, particularly toward the guardians of lower level beings and objects. That did not bode well for
guardians nor for humanity.
“We are low level guardians, not imps, if you please.” Disrespect, he thought, would soon spread more
strife. Much like the wind spreading his dust mote group from place to place.
“Well, even imps...”
“Would you stop saying that, please? Low level carbon object guardians deserve the respect of being
addressed as such, since we do perform important functions.” puffed the exasperated guardian.
“Right. That is what I was saying, even imps have something to guard, even if it is only a rock or a
pebble. I guess that deserves some honor.”
“Low level object guardians perform a valuable task. Lilith's by blows, on the other hand, do not.
Imps do nothing but cause trouble for us. Her ill-gotten energy gains kill your charges and disrupt our
reporting system.”
Another gust of wind blew the dust particle into a doorway. The dust guardian reported all relevant
details. The girl's guardian continued to posture.
“Look, here comes Prince Janoj. So that´s why tonight is different from all other nights. He must be
about to call on her. He may need more than the usual number of sacrifices for this one, even though
the harvest was good. I hear he is about to go hunt the killer of King Evren.”
“I hope that no one nice gets chosen. Sometimes they decide to sacrifice a well-born girl, as a message.
Now they will do worse, with the war they are planning.”
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“Hey, how did you hear about that, dusty?”
Ignoring the insult, “It is an advantage of watching the dust go by. They are recreating war as an
excuse to capture prisoners. This will not end well.”
“We have nothing to worry about, dusty. We are permanently instantiated. Of course I suppose I got
the better end of the deal, even if I was placed below my station, after that island assignment.”
“No. We will be lucky not to end up being wiped out the the Creator in one of his fits of pique.
Remember what happened to the last two sets of guardians who made the mistake of giving an honest
answer to his questions about these experiments: fiery fingers blotted them out.”
A large amount of signal traffic began arriving, followed by a group of cloaked men, their faces
hooded, striding up the street. The shop door closed behind them, latch slowly gliding into place, as
the girl's eyes widened.
“Hey, here come the older Jartumim, doing the ritual themselves. This must be a big deal.”
“Other dust mote groups are reporting that they are searching for Chief Executioner Lamej. They seem
to think that he had King Evren killed.”
“Oh, good. Maybe I can get my charge to sleep with one of the guards, get near the in-group and
receive some of that extra energy the Big Guy is parceling out.”
The girl swept the dust mote out of the path of the great men, hiding herself just before they came into
view.
“Hey, idiot, move back to the street! And show some skin!” She pulled her shawl up, covering her
pierced ears. “What offense have I committed to get a female? Did I do something wrong when I was
destroying that island? I should be head supervising guardian by now!”
The girl cringed as if she could heard her guardian yelling in her ear. She cowered in the doorway,
head and eyes cast down as the men passed by.
”You should probably encourage your charge to go home, for her safety.”
“She's not allowed to, she still has work to do. And I still have plans for her.”
“Her master, I am sure, will not appreciate her value being lowered if she is harmed. As for your plans
for her, go carefully. There will be a reckoning, one day. The Creatrix will not continue to allow this
abuse. She may be younger than the Creator, but without her light, even he cannot see.”
“If she goes home, I miss all the excitement! At least you get to receive the transmissions from the
ritual. Maybe even get some extra energy, too. Hey, you could move back up in the hierarchy, dusty.
You might find a scrap of memory or thought-form with all of this interference, something from
previous experiments. Guardians had wings, arms, legs, harps, and protected their charges, like you
always go on about. Of course, they are also gone now...”
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The dust mote guardian could not tell if the woman's guardian was truly jealous, or merely taunting
again, as he rattled on. The volcano must have altered his cognitive processes.
“Keep your charge safe, you will miss nothing. At least you are not just floating in the wind.” The
arrogant guardian would soon learn the advantages of swirling in the wind, whispering offers of justice
in abused ears. Soon, the fruits of their abuse will put me far above the guardian hierarchy. He must
ensure that the guardians of the girls he wished to help had full control over the newly instantiated
guardians before the offering day. They, together, would help their charges, and attain what even the
fearful entity could not. Fire for fire, very soon.
Chapter 17. Heroes and Lies
“Alas, how few
True words are heard.”
-from “The Book Of Hayat”
Picking a low hanging pistachio, Naamah worried. “My Lady, sorry, Artemis, may I ask where we are
going from here, now that we seem to have escaped the search?” The rivers might soon become too
high to cross. They had stopped at a well to sleep for a few hours of the night, lacking other shelter.
“We are going to found a community, my daughter.” Finishing her water, she replaced the jar beside
the well. “As my mother in her book.”
“The first woman?!” blurted the younger woman enthusiastically.
“Yes, The first woman. My anne, whom I long to see. She spoke of building such a community. It
was her dream for all of her children to have a place of peace and tranquility. A place where we, and all
who wish to join us, can live peaceably, creating, dancing, lighting the way.”
The women huddled close together for warmth. Sleep was eluding both of them.
“If we are to build such a community, then we will need children, and women to bear those children.
But I do not wish to have children, with all due respect to your fertility, my... Artemis.”
“Have no fear in that regard, my daughter. I did not wish to have children, but I am glad to have you. I
will not have anyone coerced in any way. Keeping the memory of a person´s deeds and dreams alive is
far more important than bearing a child. Bearing children is no guarantee of the survival of one's
family in any case, and has absolutely nothing to do with worth, value, or merit. I would argue that
those men who father the most children tend to be more ruthless, selfish and even cruel than those who
choose not to reproduce. Take my husband, no, my brother, the brother who was never meant to be my
husband,” she mused, before continuing, “the Mighty King Evren, for example. You know of his
cruelty. So, teach, write,”
“What does this word mean, Artemis, to write?”
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“Have you not learned to draw syllables and tell stories in the sand and on clay, my daughter? It is like
dancing, but the movement is captured on some permanent form, much like a clay figure. I had
assumed that all of your family, being designated of the priestly caste, would learn this art, to facilitate
your crafts.”
“No, my Lady, Artemis. The women of my family are taught none of the crafts of war, nor even of
how to compose and record music. We are only prepared for life as a wife of a great man in the palace.
This is why I wished to escape, among other reasons.”
She spun around, gracefully plucking up a stick, surprising the younger woman with her agility. She
drew a wave of symbols on the ground.
“Then you shall learn to write, to put your thoughts into a historical record, and leave a legacy of the
ideas and values you feel are most important. That will stand you in good stead, a legacy down
through far more generations than physical descent. We shall ensure that some record of the truth
survives, to rival the record of lies written by Evren when he founded the city of Janoj. “
“But Artemis, without many children, and rather intelligent ones at that, how will we create this
community, this society?”
“All human beings come from the same woman, our first mother, Hayat. How many of her children sat
abandoned in the streets of Janoj, lacking mother or father to care for them? Intelligence can be killed
in a wheat field, a brothel, a copper mine, even a palace. Any children can contribute something, even
if all they can do is dance.”
She paused, then lifted her head, and began to sing a lilting melody. Rising, the younger woman began
to dance. Arms raised, face to the sky, eyes closed, she twirled. Crossing one foot before the other
with deft hip swivels, a foot froze, arm and leg pointed, chin angled down. As the song build to a
crescendo, so did the dance, spinning faster and faster, leaping into the air, fingers weaving over head,
then arcing down and around, ending in a graceful spiral.
The night air carried the scent of dates, sweeping away the last of the melody.
“Even dancing has purpose. So then does each person.”
“We can enable ourselves to enrich the quality and heritage of all of human beings, by recognizing our
common mother. We really are all one family, if only we could remember that. “
“But what if the children we find, weak and needy as they will be, do not have the force to seguir
luchando, to keep fighting. How will we find the right kinds of people for this society then, Artemis?”
“My dear Naamah, any person can be a force to reckon with. Better an average person, trained
properly, than one like my Evren, brilliant, but unstable , angry and cruel. We will build, Naamah,
with those others have thrown away.”
“I fear that if I do not have children I will have no value. But I do not want to bear children into such a
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world.”
Artemis sat close to Naamah, brow furrowed as she met the gaze of the younger woman. “No, my
daughter, do not be afraid. If you choose not to bear children, you will find ways to leave a legacy.
You need not reproduce to contribute. Of all the unknown women who have given their lives bearing
children, how many are remembered? Only men, those who write, leave a record. So write, draw,
sing, create. That will endure far longer. And have no fear of these hell realms they describe. I was
there when Evren gave the order to spread the stories. He invented the idea himself!”
“Why did he do that, Artemis?”
“Simply to keep his people in line. This was a more effective means of ensuring obedience than paying
the soldiers more, particularly given the rising number of executions.”
“Ah, this makes sense. A religious means of controlling the city rather than tightening the food supply
again. As if the lower castes did not have enough reason to hate us already.”
“Exactly. He also planned to have himself elevated to the status of the Creators, once I was dead, and
unable to ...”
The younger woman looked stricken, as if in physical pain.
“Wait my Lady, Artemis, something is dreadfully wrong at the palace. I can see ... oh, no, we need to
leave, and run, right now without delay.”
“Why, my daughter, what is it,” Artemis asked this while urgently picking up her bag, anxiously
searching the younger woman´s face for clues to the cause of her distress.
“I am a seer, Artemis. Through contact with my unseen friend, I sometimes see what the companions
of other people are seeing, if there is very strong emotion.”
“And what are you seeing now, daughter?” urged Artemis.
“The Crown Prince is opening the Ritual of War, invoking Vengeance to find the killer of King Evren,
and to give him the power to overtake him.”
“Who do they believe to be the killer?” replied Artemis.
“They suspect that the killer was hired by my father Lamej. They cannot imagine that this could have
been done by a woman, at least for now.”
…Back in the city of Janoj...
Janoj´s guardian, still confused without the overbearing supervision of the entity which acted as Evren's
guardian, stood aside as always for the ritual, allowing full contact with Janoj by the former guardian
who now masqueraded as a succubus each month.
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“Feed me your power, as mine flows into you, Oh, Goddess!” pleaded Crown Prince Janoj, at the
climax of the ritual.
The crown prince himself had poured the circle which would focus his power, borrowed from the
goddess of fertility, the only feminine deity allowed in the city of Janoj. She had appeared to him in a
dream, the first time, offering him strength. Every month he donned his ceremonial armor and joined
with her, in the grove where the women used to gather before his father put a stop to their secret
meetings. He usually allowed the junior Jartumim to divert the waterwheel, which drew upon a well
outside the city wall, to pour the water into the moat forming the protective circle and call to the
guardians of each of the four directions, before taking over the main part of the ritual as High Priest.
He would convoke and join with the goddess, who only materialized after all of the other human
participants, the Jartumim, had gone into a deep trance state. The men chosen to form part of this
select group were trained to face the circle of water and perform acts of self-sacrifice which required
extreme concentration, thus not witnessing the union of their Prince and goddess. This time, however,
a preliminary ritual had been performed by the junior Jartumim to prepare the grove for this special
convocation. Then the Prince and senior Jartumim performed the Ritual of War. As his subjects
chanted, holding the intention to find their murdered King´s killer, Crown Prince Janoj focused on
visualizing himself at the head of his guards, surrounding and capturing the culprit.
She reveled in the rising energy coming from the participants, drawing it to her as they chanted her
name. The heat of the bonfires concentrated at the top of the circle, building with the momentum of the
chant. Concentrating the energy, the form that appeared in the smoke might have been a young girl,
long blond hair concealing the lack of legs. She materialized with a sizzling sound next to the Crown
Prince, drawing him into her embrace.
“Lilith, Lilith, Lilith...”
She licked her lips in anticipation of the servants she would spawn with the mass ejaculated by this
fool. But where was the Feared One, who usually waited for her offering of energy? Testing her,
perhaps, to see if she would withhold the portion due to the King?
At last releasing the energy to fulfill their purpose, his seed pulsed up into the goddess, who cried
greedily,
“Borrow my strength, Mighty Prince, and return in triumph, with blood for my feast!”
Thrusting him away from her body, she levitated high into the air and dematerialized with an explosion
whose concussive force threw all of the participants to the ground, just as a flash of light arced toward
the Crown Prince, who stretched forth his hands to receive the jolt of energy directed at him, shrieking
in pain as he consumed her gift of power. Others shrieked as well, when the arc was conducted via the
moat to their wet bodies.
“Just wait until he finds out how much she will sap him later on in exchange for lighting him up with
all of this heroic strength now.” commented one watching guardian.
“I don´t think he really cares. They just want to find the killer. I would not want to be in his sandals
when Prince Janoj catches up with him.”
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“I would not want to see you in his sandals either!”
With the ritual done, the senior Jartumim stood up, dismissed the guardians of the quarters and opened
the circle, draining the ritual space of the last remnants of water and energy, then following Crown
Prince Janoj to the post ritual meal. The slaughtered calf, served rare in its own blood sauce, sweet
cakes, and wine libations were dedicated to the Queen of Vengeance, before eating and rising up to
pursue the King´s killer.
“Tracks have been found heading west, My Prince, and the daughter of Lamej is missing.” reported a
guard kneeling at the head table in the feasting hall,
“Very good. Prepare to go after them.” ordered Prince Janoj, finishing his meal and standing as a
servant buckled on his sword and armor.
…
With the reverberations from the materialization and dematerialization of the guardian turned succubus
no longer being suppressed by the still inert entity, nearly dormant since Evren's death, reports and
vibrations were now making their way liberally to the supervising guardian hierarchy. The Ancient
Warrior and the Light Bearer, now having separate reporting hierarchies, both got the news roughly at
the same time, or so believed the Ancient Warrior. The Creator's supervising guardian reported that a
loose guardian had somehow managed to materialize and make physical contact with a human male in
front of a group of men.
“Apprehend that guardian at once for debriefing and deinstantiating.” ordered the Ancient Warrior,
growing concerned. Why had he not felt the vibration, converting from energy to matter and back? An
energy expenditure that large should have alerted him at once, since it was his essence which powered
the guardian hierarchy. This was something regarding which he would have to confer with the Light
Bearer.
…
As the Light Bearer monitored the ritual, she saw that the Prince's guardian had been able to intercept
Lilith's second energy burst, using it to boost his own signal strength enough to restore all of his
reporting capabilities. He had then immediately transmitted a toned down report of events at the ritual.
Drained as she was of energy, Lilith's activity records were nearly all been lost. The problem of the
Jartumim suffering radiation poisoning would not concern him. Just as if on cue, the Light Bearer
received a transmission from the Ancient Warrior. He wanted to meet in his new Audience Chamber, in
the most distant part of the multiverse to discuss this problem. She dampened her energy around the
first woman, leaving enough behind to comfort her as she slept, then traversing various dimensions as a
shortcut to meet with the Ancient Warrior.
...
“I can run no further, Artemis. Let us brush out our tracks and rest awhile in that cave just there off the
way,” wheezed Naamah. She was amazed at the endurance of the older woman.
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“Yes, of course Naamah, I am tiring as well, and need a rest. Let us share some food and water, then
decided where to sleep, for we gain nothing by exhausting ourselves.”
As she assessed the cave the younger woman had pointed out, Artemis decided that it was as safe a
place as they would find for the night, and began gathering brushwood to use as kindling while walking
backward as they brushed out their tracks. The effort would be in vain.
Singing while they rested, Naamah saw her ancestress close her eyes, relaxing in enjoyment of the
song, a soothing flowing melody whose quarter-tones accented its poignancy. The tranquility was
shattered by the sound of approaching hoof beats and baying hounds.
“So soon? How did they get here so soon? How could they have known which direction to search?”
“I guess the ritual worked.”
“More likely,” countered Artemis, “their new blood hounds worked. It doesn't take much to figure that
we would want to go back West to find refuge with my relatives. Let us make haste and escape if we
can.”
Chagrined, both women hurried to put the fire out, carefully covering the fire pit with dry sand to
prevent smoke from alerting their pursuers. As they ran to the entrance of the cave, they were blocked
by a well-built man, still in his prime, whose slanting eyes flashed below a high forehead.
“Mother, what are you doing here? And why are you so far from the city, girl? You are Drums Nicely,
aren't you?” He gestured to a guard who advanced upon the girl before she could move, rooted to the
floor as she was. The guard clamped one hand on her right arm, ripping the shawl away with the other.
The girl's face burned with shame. “You are the one to be married to my grandson Mejuyael.” snorted
Crown Prince Janoj. His guards shared his sneer, sheathing their swords behind him. Men, horses and
dogs formed one impenetrable object, walling the women inside the cave.
Naamah looked down at the floor, “Yes.” Her chin quivered as she recovered her arm with the tattered
remains of the shawl.
“You are both supposed to be in the palace with the rest of the royal women. It looks bad enough with
you being out of the women´s section, let alone outside of the city, but it is even worse today, since the
King has been murdered.”
Thinking quickly, Artemis replied to her son, “Yes, my son, we were both in the palace. I had just left a
royal audience when we heard the commotion. We were so frightened, why do you think we fled? We
thought they would kill us, too!”
She mixed in this partial truth, since she had indeed been called before the King, his very last audience
in fact, before his death. Hopefully he would accept it.
“Why, then was I not informed that Drums Nicely was in the palace? This makes no sense. I am sorry
Mother, but you are lying and I need to take you both back to the palace, in any case. You two will go
back with an escort of my guards while I continue the hunt for the killer. Since we suspect your father
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Lamej to be behind it.”
“Half blind?” Naamah immediately regretted her rash outburst, stealing herself for the blow to come.
A page smirked as the nearest guard drew back his hand, stayed by a gesture from the crown prince.
Prince Janoj leveled a withering glare at the girl, who dropped her head.
“You, Drums Nicely, will make a perfect guest in the palace until he turns himself in, or we find him
and determine the truth of the matter.” Her trembling shoulders drew looks of satisfaction.
“Son,” Artemis began, desperate to avoid being taken back, “wait a moment. We can help you with
this search. Keeping this girl out of the city will draw Lamej out into the open.”
“How so, Mother? She is already known to be disobedient. Of what value can she be to him?”
The inside of the cave suddenly felt like a cauldron to Artemis, who felt sweat begin to trickle down her
armpits, stomach churning. All eyes were on her. The salivating hunting dogs seemed eager to tear out
her throat. If she failed, that might be their fate.
“Because Drums Nicely came with me to seek shelter from that very villain, the father who executed
his own son, her brother Tuval-Cain. He, as you know, was to have been her escort to the royal palace
before her wedding with Mejuyael, until...”
“Until,” the Prince spoke harshly over his mother, “he was executed for disloyalty. He had refused, on
the direct orders of King Evren, to use his skills in the new arts of forging copper and iron.”
Naamah, incensed at being used as a pawn while the memory of her beloved brother was insulted, was
about to speak when Artemis shot her a warning glance, gesturing the young woman to hold her
silence. She needed all of her son's attention to make this work. The girl's scar showed brighter red
than usual, through the torn shawl.
“It was my understanding that Tuval-Cain did use those skills to produce beautiful and useful tools for
cooking, storing food, even hoeing the fields and pruning trees more easily.”
The dogs pricked their ears up, salivating even more. Apparently they recognized the word food. This
did not set Artemis at ease.
“Yes, and when ordered by the King to make swords and spears out of some of those hoes and pruninghooks,
he refused. This could not be tolerated. So the Chief Executioner was ordered to impale him.
In my mercy, I prevailed upon the King to commute the sentence to beheading, after Lamej had himself
forged a sword of iron.”
“Knowing,” Artemis replied, seeing the anger on Naamah´s face, “that that sword was not half as good
as one which could have been made by Tuval-Cain, and that this beheading would be nearly as painful
as being impaled anyway. Not to mention the irony of being executed with the very product of his own
art, which despite his refusal, was forged anyway. Wielded by his own father. What mercy you show,
my son. Would you even execute your own son, my Son?”
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A dog whimpered, as if the thought pained him. A page kicked the animal, who lay down with a yelp.
“Indeed I would, mother. The King kept me away from your pernicious influence to save me from
falling prey to such errors as you have just spoken. This is why women are to remain silent, and in
their place.” Prince Janoj held his head up, glowering in triumph.
“I see,” whispered Artemis, sadly, “so, this is what sort of man the Mighty Evren has made of you.
Perhaps one day others will say ´Give us a boy for the few years of his childhood, and the man will be
ours for a lifetime.´ I hope this is not true of you, my son. I hope that you can change, be persuaded,
use your reason to look at the facts and see differently. Courageously, honorably. Hear me out, my
son, and ...”
“There is nothing more to say, Mother,” barked Prince Janoj, cutting her off while gesturing to his
guards to move into the cave, “Take Drums Nicely back to her father´s house and leave her in the
custody of her brother Yuval. Let her learn her place from the Jartumim in her family And take the
Queen Mother...”
“My son,” began Artemis, her throat closing up.
“You dare to interrupt me?” shouted Janoj,
“Yes, I do,” Artemis whispered, awaiting silence before going on, “You are my son and you will listen
to me. Hear me out, now.”
All of the men stood gaping in astonished silence, as the Prince moved his lips, jaw clenching. Even
the dogs looked surprised.
“How dare...” His reddening face began to turn purple as the Queen Mother held up her hand for
silence.
What would my mother, my dear anne, do now, I wonder? thought Artemis. Her own mother, the first
woman, had tried to pass on her knowledge to all of her children, but how could she ever have
imagined this? “Listen, my son, and I will question. First, where is Lamej now, if you can tell me? As
the head of the King´s personal body guard, is his place not with you, now?” Artemis paused to
emphasize her point.
The young man's eyes shifted away, darting briefly to the floor and back, avoiding his mother's gaze.
“We have been unable to locate him.”
“Then he is also suspect, correct?”
“Yes, that is correct. In fact, ...”
“In fact he is already subject to execution because he is to be held personally responsible for the death
of his Lord, the King.” she finished for him.
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“Yes, he is.”
“Which explains why he is missing, does it not? And of course with her father gone missing, who
considered this girl to be little better than a traitor himself, as he deemed her full brother to be.”
One of the horses nickered, stamping softly at the puddle of drool collecting beside its foot.
“So how could she, or I, possibly, feel safe in the palace? With the palace guards in disarray, her father
could easily have her killed, which he might have done long ago if not been for your proposed marriage
to Mejuyael, awful for this child as that would have been.”
“That was a good and sensible match, Mother,” countered Janoj, shaking his head as the dogs became
restless. Everyone knew that, completed or not, the girl had fought the old women. She was not fit to
be a wife. She ought to have been grateful not to be chosen as a sacrifice after such disgraceful
cowardice. “Who else would have her, now?”
“Sensible, for the royal court, perhaps, but not for a second wife half his age and out of favor with her
own family.” explaining Artemis, with as much patience as she could muster, “and she was honorbound
to speak. Surely you can appreciate that, my son.”
“Your charge should surely understand the demands of honor,” transmitted Artemis' guardian to the
guardian of the Crown Prince. No reply came.
“Her support for her brother´s misguided ideas and her foolish speeches about them won her that
fame.” shot back Janoj.
“Whether her father is directly guilty of the crime or not, he is meant for the stake, and his entire
household with him, according to the laws of your father the King. So this poor girl is doomed either
way. Is she not?”
Artemis paused again, allowing her point to sink in. Two of the hounds lay down, panting in the heat.
“Eh?” her guardian pinged that of the Prince, followed by a ping from the guardian of Naamah.
“Yes,” acknowledged Janoj's guardian, as he whispered this same word in the ear of the Crown Prince.
“Yes, mother,” Janoj admitted, “Having fled, her father will now be subject to interrogation before his
death. It is the law.”
“And will he also be humbled before they begin to interrogate him, as is the custom, my son?”
“That is the law. No man may be taken at his word, but must be interrogated properly, so as to obtain
the truth from him. This entails humbling and then the rack, yes.” answered Janoj, his face impassive.
He glanced at the dogs, now all sleeping.
“And you believe that humbling and stretching is a good procedure, do you? That it accomplishes what
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you set out to accomplish? Would you remain in the palace, knowing that you were subject to being
violated before stretching on the rack, and finally impaled, since you would have no choice after all of
that but to confess, wrongly or not.”
“The truth will out, Mother. How can a man lie when he has lost everything. If no man will follow
him, reduced to the status of a woman and softened on the rack, he has nothing left but the truth.”
“You mean broken on the rack, and no my son, he has one thing left, even then.” contradicted his
mother.
“And what is that?” queried Janoj, looking perplexed.
“Desperation.” she asserted. “He will have his hatred, and his desperation. That is why he will only
tell you what you want to hear, because that will end his suffering. Now Lamej has one more thing to
gain, in the city, if this girl and I return. He knows all the guards, many of whom are personally loyal
to him. And he had nothing left to lose. Perhaps he is the one you should be searching for, my son?”
Her eyebrows eloquently arched as her gaze met and held his, before sending a knowing glance in
Naamah´s direction. A dog awoke and shook its head, as if agreeing with her.
“And if he is not the actual killer? You do not expect me to allow the man who murdered my father
with his own hands to go free?”
“Of course not. I expect you to administer a city where such a man would not be tolerated. His title
revoked, his company shunned, and his power nullified. Humanely, but completely. There are ways of
making a man pay for his crimes without humbling him, breaking him on the rack, nor impaling him.
Let him live alone, forced to keep his own company, to dig in the earth with his bare hands to produce
his sustenance, draw his own water, build his own booth -shelter each day, and thus to contemplate the
heinousness of what he has done, alone and in silence.”
“Mother, we must execute him, that is our way. It keeps us safe. Otherwise we would be like the
vegetable eaters back West, too weak even to kill animals for food, allowing only the criminals to be
safe.” Janoj decided that Father had been right. Only a woman would fail to see this obvious necessity.
“Tell me this, my son. How many have died already, to avenge the death of Evren?
“I have ordered the decimation of the palace guard, of course,” answered Janoj, finding the question
odd.
“And how much more unnecessary blood will be shed before ...”
“Mother,” he interrupted, suddenly understanding the danger of her implication. “We cannot afford to
be so soft as to allow a murderer or thief to live,” sneered Janoj, “and as Crown Prince, it has long
been my duty to ensure that we did not become so.”
“Yes, I remember the first time he took you from me, forcing you to watch those impaled for stealing,
simply to feed their families. From that moment on, my son, you were never the beautiful boy to
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whom I gave birth and held to my breast, fed and nurtured. From that time on, you became hard,
distant, sad. Do not pass that on, my son, in your kingdom. Add mercy to the justice you administer.
And let this girl stay with me, and from the danger of her father and the disgrace that now falls upon
her father´s household.” pleaded Artemis.
It would make one less mouth to feed, thought Janoj, since the girl would effectively have no place to
go. It remained to be seen what he would do with her remaining brothers Yuval, head of the Jartumim,
and Yaval, chief Quartermaster. Those would be tricky positions to replace in the royal court, and he
must deal with them carefully. Perhaps getting their treason-tainted sister out of the way would be
helpful. She had certainly been of no use while she was in the city, shunned for defending her full
brother. Her mother had wisely kept the girl hidden away. Though her branch of the family was
disdained, the two women were safe, since her son Tuval-Cain had no children. Lamej's execution of
his younger son had saved the entire household from being condemned.
“So you would leave the city forever, Mother?” asked Janoj,
“Who else has need of me, besides this girl? What purpose will I serve in the city, now? You will find
the man who killed your father, execute many more unjustly, then gather your royal harem around you.
The only thing that will happen to me, if I return, is that the intrigues of the harem will focus on getting
me to influence you, my son, and that...”
“Will not be good for any of us. But where will you go, then, Mother? How do you plan to survive?”
“There are many lands to the north, as you may know, Son,” although she doubted that he really knew
this, given his limited travel outside the city, “that are sparsely settled, if at all. We will go there, north
of the Great Sea, and build a community.
“So you will found a new city, then? You will not go back and live with your relatives, from before
father rescued you from the First Man and your brother?”
“Rescued me? Rescued me?!” Indignation colored her face.
All of the dogs leapt up, barking wildly. Janoj looked perplexed.
“Yes, of course, Mother. Father told me all about the threats from your brother.”
“Is this the lie he has been telling all of these years? How is it possible that I never heard this? He did
not rescue me, he took me by force, humbled me!” She immediately regretted her words, seeing the
pained look on her son's face, “I have always loved you, my son, my beautiful son. Perhaps I came to
believe at some point that his continued desire for me was my only hope, believed that no one could
ever love me after that, but he never rescued me from anything nor from anyone. And certainly not
from my younger brother. I loved my brother. His name was Vacío and he was a good, gentle and kind
person. Let us not spoil his memory any further with this talk. I will take this girl to a place where we
can be safe, to build a new community, taking in other women who have no other place to go. We shall
create a society of equals up there in a land where no one knows us, neither a city nor a village, but
rather an interconnected circle of bands gathering medicines, growing food in movable containers, and
keeping small animals for milk and cheese so that we can provide for ourselves. We will live in
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harmony, and we will live in peace.”
“I fear You will become prey for every bandit who crosses your path, Mother, or else you will become
roving prostitutes. I will send an escort of warrior empowered to protect and give you in marriage to
some suitable nobleman in a town far from here, and ...”
“No, my son, that is not wise, for everyone will hear of it, eventually bringing scandal upon both east
and west. No, we must go somewhere unknown, unsettled, where we can move if danger comes near
us, and quickly if need be.”
“Just as you escaped from me?” He arched an eyebrow quizzically. “How will you know of
approaching danger in time, and how will you escape in time, Mother. This is folly.”
“Listen, my Son. We can build a community free of violence, free of dominance.”
“Mother, there is no place free of pain.”
“No, son, not free of pain, but rather, full of hope. Hope that we can rise above ourselves, be better
than we are.”
“The strong,” Janoj asserted, “will always triumph over the weak, Mother. Just one Lamej with an iron
sword can slaughter a whole city full of peaceful men, enslaving their women and children. How can
you of all people hope to win against this, Mother?”
“We will refuse to be broken, refuse to be exploited, and refuse to cooperate with our captors, should it
come to that.”
“If you utterly refuse to obey, they will simply drag you into the flames, an example to the rest, until
those too broken to resist, give birth, as you did, to a generation that knows no other way. No amount
of blocking, maneuvering, evading or even refusal can withstand the onslaught of even a few merciless
men. You will be extinguished with the dying embers of the pyres upon which your captors burn you,
if you refuse to obey. The offspring of the cruel will always outnumber the children of the just.”
“But son, the cruel must have blood to dominate, but the just need only think and teach, making family
out of the very children born to the cruel, by showing the example of a better way.”
“That requires intelligence, Mother, and the stupid will always outnumber the wise, for it is the stupid
man for whom life is the easiest.”
“Even the stupid can learn wisdom. Ordinary people can learn to be just, and resist injustice.”
“With the iron sword, Mother, refusal will not suffice. You must see that.”
Even Janoj's guardian was convinced at that, until Artemis rebutted: “Of course, my son, it is far better
to resist effectively, than to merely resist passively. I did not say that we would be as sheep led to the
slaughter. If we are dragged into the fire, despite our best efforts to evade, block, trip or even paralyze
our attackers, then we will be dragged into the flames clad in fireproof garb stuffed with sand or mud,
114
vomiting naphtha,” she growled, rising to her full height.
The pages nearest the Queen Mother backed away, eyes widening. Three of the dogs began to
whimper.
“What is naphtha?” Naamah's guardian transmitted the question, allowing all to receive.
“It is the memory of a very ancient substance which is like liquid fire. It was even called Greek Fire,
named for a tribe from an earlier experiment. It catches flame as soon as a spark ignites it. Very
powerful, and very dangerous, but quite portable” replied the older guardian.
“How do they know about this?”
“An old guardian told one of the women in the palace, who must have told her.”
“The Creator will not be pleased about this.” All of the guardians agreed.
“We will take our tormenters with us, to teach them that those who propose to torture us will die with
their victims in the flames they have lit for us.” Her eyes flashed. “In the end, we shall arise from our
own ashes, but they shall not.”
Janoj and his guards listened with a dawning sense of respect for Artemis, as she continued,
“In the end, we will make certain, before the last of us is dead, that those who ordered the torture and
murder of our people also learn, one way or another, the error of their ways.”
“So you will fight, then?”
“We always fight, son, but there are many different ways to do so. We will fight in clever, purposeful
ways, mindful of our goal, building up, rather than tearing down.”
“You will still need a means of knowing what the outside world may be planning to do to you, should
they find you, Mother. If they do not fear you, then you must not allow them to find you, for you may
think you have nothing they want, but even ideas are worth killing for.”
The Crown Prince left a pregnant pause, allowing everyone present to capture his implication.
“If it brings you peace of mind, my son, then we shall live far away from all other people, and keep
dogs with us. They can raise the alarm in time for us to flee, if necessary, from any approaching
enemy.”
“Only if they do not have horses. For I can spare you but one of mine. You, page,” ordered Janoj,
“give the Queen mother your horse, and one of the dogs. You will ride with him,” pointing to another
page, who had already begun removing the saddlebags from the horse of the first page.
“No, leave the provisions. You will give them to the women, and share from your comrades´
supplies.”
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“Yes, my Prince.” acknowledged both pages, bowing together and leading the horse and dog to
Artemis, who stepped around to the left shoulder and patted the horse on the neck before bending down
to offer her hand for sniffing to the dog whose rope she now held.
I wonder if he is related to dear old Umut. Artemis nodded a gesture of thanks to Janoj.
“Very well then, Mother, I grant you leave to continue on your way with this girl, but on one
condition,”
“And what is that condition, my son?” Artemis and Naamah each hold her breath, standing stock still
awaiting Janoj's next words.
“That neither you nor this girl return to the city of Janoj nor send any word to us, ever again.”
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