10 Summer, 515 AV
8th Bell, Morning
The Watch, Endrykas
8th Bell, Morning
The Watch, Endrykas
"Look who showed up"
"Am I late?" Dravite smiled and carried himself to the floor mats slowly, taking a seat on one of the rugs. He closed a hand over his broken lower rib and cringed; he needed to slow down.
"You're fine, I've only been here for a bell," Aris admitted, "you can start by telling me how the group is doing; by my time they should be just north of the Uvic Lake."
The horse lord didn't ask any more questions; instead he closed his eyes and concentrated on drawing a connection with the web. The glowing blue tendrils were inviting, almost warm, and Dravite knew he had been spending dangerous amounts of time within the web; each time having to overcome the temptation to stay just a little longer, travel a little further, and call the ancient magic home.
Swiftly he roved beyond the tent; past the Wind-knotted Gate, through the snaking miles of tall grass, and around the Uvic River until he had gone far enough north to catch up with the patrol group. Slowly he circled them, checking on their auras; the strong pools of djed of which he counted thirteen. After that he took his search wider, mapping the plain and any dangers he came across; nothing that alarmed him, nothing which the group could not handle. When he returned to them they seemed to be setting up camp and after another three chimes passed he was sure of it.
Dravite opened his eyes and saw the dimly lit expanse of The Watch tent in front of him, home. "They are exactly where you put them with a drift of wild pigs to the west, a large herd of deer far north, and a hunting party east of them on the border."
"How many Watchmen?" Aris inquired.
"Thirteen."
"Good, they stuck together."
"They are setting up camp already."
"Odd," Aris admitted, "perhaps they mean to water their horses and hunt for the day in order to continue later with full bellies."
"Wise?" Dravite asked.
"Somewhat but they have disobeyed my direct orders."
"I could deliver a message in the web," Dravite offered.
"Yes, but first, I have something for you to read," Aris smiled and moved closer to Dravite in order to offer him a book; a rare find in the city of tents.
"Leadership and Politics; A Season with the Horse Clans," the man read the title aloud.
Aris smiled, "It's not a bad book, if you don't mind reading in common."
"It's not my favourite language, but I'll give it a go."
"Get comfortable."
Dravite lay back against the cushions scattered across the hand woven rugs and opened the book, turning the pages until he found the start.
"Go on, read aloud, this is a favourite of mine."
The horse lord smiled before indulging Aris' wishes.
"It's late summer, 474 AV, and I am a captive of the horse people, better known here as the Drykas. They live in family groups consisting of a leader; I've come to learn they call Ankal, a number of wives, the first of which holds significant weight within the pavilion, hunters, elderly of which there are few, children, and slaves. The Drykas people are not unkind to me. I am fed once a day and free to walk about the pavilion once all of my daily chores are done. This group is called Bluehide, they fall under the Emerald Clan, who I have come admire for their hunting prowess.
There are a total of seven clans, each with a vast number of Pavilions who can trace their bloodlines back to these groups. Emerald, Ruby, Sapphire, Topaz, Opal, Amethyst, and the Diamond Clan make up the seven. The Diamond Clan are responsible for an organisation they call The Watch, a group of young men and women tasked with protecting the city from outside dangers and enforcing the seven laws. I am considered one of those dangers, picked up just west of a large lake; the men on horseback came at me as if they knew my exact location.
The Ankal of the Bluehide pavilion is taking a fourth wife this morning. I am told this is a rare honour among the Drykas people and only men of high standing within the city are free to take more than the rumoured three most do. The leader is responsible for overseeing all of the political aspects of everyday life. He is charged with the responsibility of not just his own life and those of his wives and children, but every member of the pavilion, whether they are related to him by blood or not. Even I as a hard working slave am permitted to simple rights, a clean bed, a hot meal, fresh water, and an education in Pavi, the native language used by the horse people.
An Ankal is strong willed, determined, takes his time to make the right decisions, and masters his craft, be it riding, hunting, or any number of weapon skills. The rise to leadership in this city is achieved through blood, sweat, and hard work, though only one of his children is allowed to take his place one day, it is said that his first wife can take charge were he to meet an untimely end, and only up until one of the chosen sons come of age. It is rare for women to lead a pavilion in Endrykas.
This is another ritual I have had the privilege of witnessing. A young boy in his fourteenth summer of life has made a special connection with one of the wild horses that roam the plains. They call these horses Striders and there is something sacred and unspoken about the bond between man and beast in this city. I watched as the boy lay on his belly while they lit their sweet smelling ritual smokes and used flesh biting tools that smell of alcohol to carve marks into the boy's skin; a ceremony that continued well into the night. When they were done two men had to help lift the boy and though he had not made a sound through the entire experience, I saw pain in his eyes, blood and black ink running down his back and the lengths of both legs that twisted my insides tightly. Man they called him and man he was, for I have seen none so brave in the big city of stone far east of Endrykas, in a place were true leaders are made, not born."
Dravite put his forefinger between the paged and held it closed. "A slave," he smiled, "from Syliras?"
"Yes," Aris nodded, "but in those pages important lessons lie."
"Of leaderships, politics, and the city we call home."
"And have you learned anything so far."
The horse lord looked thoughtful, "An Ankal's blood does not make you a leader, it takes hard work and sacrifice for those in your care."
Aris smiled slowly, "and what of politics within our city?"
"The clans govern the city and use The Watch to police the seven laws."
"And do you know what those laws are, Blackwater?"
"Most..."
"Then keep reading, but first, a message."
.
.
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