Wednesday, November 14, 2012

144 - Mummified Bits



Frobert stepped down from the bird palanquin, adjusting his sarband.  He just wasn’t used to the heavier, thicker headgear of desertwear. “Naser,” the driver got down as well.  “Tis moren’t a bit dangerous out here.  If yer sure. I shouldn’t just leave you.”

“Yes, yes, I realize.  I am meeting someone at this wadi and there is absolutely no reason for you to be concerned.  Or any reason for you to wait.”

“Naser, in conscience...”

The rented palanquin sat, feet dug into the mixed dirt and sand was just off the side of the Lainz road, under a scrubby stand of Wretched pines.  The wadi, Tsquilis, was several hours walk north. Frobert waved to cut off the driver and dropped more water tokens into his hand.  “You needn’t pretend concern to solicit more graft from me my good fellow!”

“I wasn’t... Naser, I... but... oh, ownership!  Of course Naser.”  

He offered a perfunctory salaam, goaded his bird up, drawing the rear bird with a tug on the rein.  “Yer choice tah slog hard in the twilight, Naser.”

Frobert didn’t answer but sniffed as he watched the palanquin retreat back to the city. Now I have to find a nice rock cut where I can set up my ambush.  My patron is so... single minded.  One undead monster, indeed.  I’m an artist at this kind of clinery.  Most bones are too separated to be useful, but if I find any two bones held together with a rigid scrap of sun-dried leather... that I can make work.  I can make the connection less rigid.  Mummified bits are so much more useful as machinery. You don’t have to argue with it.

**

“Ownership, da... I don’t know what to think anymore.” Ky rode next to his da, tucked tight into the bird’s neck as their birds stretched their beaks parallel to the ground and ran.  His words were ripped right out of his mouth and dragged away on the wind of their passage, barely slowed down by the veil feathers over his mouth.

“You’ve been quiet since we left Quanat.”  Da was hard to hear but they turned their heads toward each other, the bird’s claws the only sound on the road. 

The rest of the caravan was strung out along the road, far enough apart to be individual targets, close enough to support one another should someone need assistance.  Ilax and his zon were in full military rotation, along with da but da had dropped back to talk once they’d settled into the ground-eating stride of running birds.

“I... shouldn’t have said what I said, da,” Kyrus owned.  “I’m scared.  The zon says that if I want to learn to be a better warrior I need to own my own feelings... I mean... she explained that if anybody else could make me feel anything it would be like me being owned or controlled by them.” 

“Yes.  Only you can make yourself feel things.” Ky could barely see his da’s head nod, the bird’s neck-feathers puffed up and around.  The road itself kept them on track at this speed.


 

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