The day was hot, she reflected. A damp, sticky hot, that made the crops wilt and ladies' thin tunics create moist patterns on their flushed bodies. Already the suns were causing bitter complaint, as neighbors borrowed canopies, and ice water that should be saved for livestock was employed in gentle mists that covered the small territory of Maralo in a spray of coolness, from the huge sprinkler centered in the town square.
Yes, the day was hot. She regretted volunteering to carry the water into town, but it was the only way to escape hearing her mother, Isha, complain yet again of headaches, and won't the heat stop, and why doesn't your sister--
"Sari!" a voice called. "Saril Aga!" She turned with a small sigh. "Yes, mother?" she asked--rather patiently, she thought.
"Saril, I need you to watch Nali for me while I prepare supper." "But Amah", Saril replied unhappily, "I'm going into town."
"Well, then take her with you!" her mother answered crossly--for good reason had she to be cross. Their best pack golka was ill, she had an awful headache, and now her eldest daughter was being unreasonable to her poor suffering mother. Analia, the ten-year-old, had been pestering her that day if she couldn't get her very own chilapi to play with, please, I'll feed it every day Amah, can't I get one? Please?
"Oh, fine," snapped Saril. Nali had been wanting to go to town anyway, she hadn't been in ever so long, as she put it. It might be benificial too--Saril would be wanting company on the road. "Come on, Nali," she called, shaking her head.
Analia came running out of the hostel, flush with excitement. She had only been to town maybe five or six times in her whole life, and those were widely spaced. It was an auspicious occassion. She had put on her second best tunic, and her best headwrap.
"Oh, no you don't, Miss Nali," said her mother. "You go right up to your room and change." "But Amah..." whined Nali. "No buts!" exclaimed Isha. "Your blue sleeveless tunic will do very well. Besides, it's too hot for such garments, and you'll get it filthy running around in that dirty square. No, not another word."
"Awww..." Nali pouted, then raced upstairs, lest her mother change her mind about letting her go at all. Saril waited. "I'm ready!" cried Nali from the top window of her chamber.
"Well, then get down here," replied Saril with an amused smile. "Oh yeah, right," the young girl shouted. She flew outside.
"You have the honor of being bucket-bearer," announced Saril with a sardonic grin. "Amah!" exclaimed Nali. "That's not fair!"
"Oh, quit your complaining Nali, replied Isha. "You're big enough now. Although do only let her carry one, Sari. It's not good for someone her age. One apiece will do just fine."
"I was only teasing," Saril grumbled. "Naturally I wouldn't let her carry them both. She's too little, anyway--she'd probably drop it." "Yes, I would," agreed Nali cheerfully. "So you can carry them both."
"One apiece," their mother stated firmly. "And that's final."
The girls said good-bye to their mother, then departed on the road to town. It was easily a three-mile walk, and the main conversation was provided by Nali, who chattered on about how cute chilapis were, and how soft and sweet and friendly, until her sister was about ready to wring her neck. She privately vowed if their mother ever did break down and purchase one of the accursed creatures, she would acquire a lotorn to eat the chilapi. Or simply kill Nali. The former would be too much bother.
They were in a forest now, so the heat was not quite so bad as near the sandy plains of her home. The sky was a brilliant blue, and large birds flew overhead. She remembered how the delicious eggs were cooked, doused with nutmeg, wrapped in fennel, and rolled in a thin pastry, finger-hot off the griddle. The thought made her mouth water, and her feet quicken. Another mile to go, she thought, and sighed.
Then, she just barely heard a tiny snap. She would have dismissed the sound, but soon after she heard another. Light, restrained breathing. She reached into her pocket to see if it was there. It was. She removed a small, innocuous object, six inches long, a short pole. She shook it.
The short, thick dowel quickly snapped into a five-foot long bo. She twirled it in front of her a few times cautiously. "Sari?" Analia frowned, her forehead creased with worry. "Is something wrong?"
"Nooo..." replied Saril uncertainly. "Nali, why don't you run along ahead to town? I'll catch up later..."
"Sari, I can take care of myself, you know." To prove it, the child took out a replica of the weapon Saril held, folded up, from her own pocket, and snapped it into a miniaturization of her older sister's. Hers was perhaps four feet long.
All people, men, women, and children of the Maralo territory, were required to have some sort of defense and weapons training. Over 200 years before, a great war had been fought, and lost, by the people. Peasants had taken to the battlefield, and were quickly slaughtered, due to simple ignorance of any forms of combat (the peaceful territory not keeping a military). During the Reconstruction, which lasted over 30 years, treaties were signed requiring the public to carry weapons, for insurance. Men were trained in swords and spears, while women and children received polearms and throwing daggers, weapons that were more defnsive than offensive, and all were taught how to make weapons at short notice.
"Don't be ridiculous, Nali," whispered Saril--for who could be listening in? "You haven't my skill." "Oh yeah? I bet I could whip your--"
"Shut up!" Saril hissed. She slowly walked towards the overgrown brush and peeled back the leaves. A pair of brown eyes met hers.
"AAUUGGGHHH!!!" She let out a strangled gasp. Mabenti, don't DO that!"
"Ha ha. Sari, ya gotta admit, I got you good." The short, dark stocky girl grinned. She sized up the situation and burst out laughing. "By Haldi, you even got your staff out!"
"Oh, shut up Mab," replied Saril, crimson with embarrassment, yet with a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Anyway, it's good to see you. How've ya been?"
"Hot," replied Mabenti, rolling her eyes. "I swear, this weather would cook an egg on a brick. Oh, hi Nali." The girl smiled shyley. "Hi," she said in return.
"Oh, the weather, eh? Is that all you've got to talk about?" Saril grinned. "Last I heard, your brother was marrying that girl from up north, what's-her-name..."
"Zalya? Yeah, well, he's happy. And I assume she is too, though you'd never know it. Poor thing never smiles. But I hear all her people are like that."
"When's the wedding to be held?" inquired Saril.
"During the monthly eclipse, at the summer solstice. Your family's all invited, by the way--practically the whole territory is. Amah was so excited Kiril was finally getting married, she boasts of her good fortune by inviting everyone in the family from fourth cousins on down. It's to be a lavish spectacle."
"I can imagine," Saril grinned. "I also heard a certain young Maralo maiden would soon be announcing her engagement to a certain Chana resident? Hmmm?"
"Oh, that's nonense," replied Mabenti in complete honesty. "Pure idle gossip. Darmid and I are just good friends. Don't give me that look, Saril. You know it's true. And don't spread that kind of stuff around! Rumors fly fast enough without help."
"What did I do?" exclaimed Saril, opening her hazel eyes wide. "I said not a word."
"Yeah, right." Mabenti rolled her large dark eyes again--a habit, reflected Saril, since she was a girl. "Where you two off to?" "Town," Saril replied. Nali was so excited, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, though she tried to keep herslf in check. What would Mabenti think? She stopped and resumed a feeble attempt at dignity. It didn't last long.
"Nali, we'll be there soon enough. Quit your fussing," her sister scolded. "Would you like to join us Mab? If you've nothing else to do."
"Not a thing," Mabenti replied. "At least, nothing I'd care to do. I could water our golka, but she kicks, and anyway, Kiril's better with them things."
"Come ON, Saril!" Nali exclaimed, pulling on the sash of her sister's tunic. "Sorry, Mab, seems we're in a hurry."
"No problem. I'll be glad for the company--was considering going to town myself."
Nali had skipped ahead of them. "Nali, put your staff away," reminded Saril. "Oh, yeah right, replied Nali. "Forgot." A quick flick of her wrist, and the staff was as before--a short, thick pole.
"You better put yours away too," remarked Mabenti. "Nah," Saril grinned. " I like to keep mine out, for practice on the road."
Mabenti laughed. "For practice on your friends, you mean," she teased. Saril nudged her companion playfully on the shoulder. "Since you asked..."
"Hey, keep that thing away from me!" Mabenti squealed. "Last time it got that close, I got an eyeful. Lovely colors, too."
"Honestly, Mab," replied Saril. "I can't understand why you're so staff-shy, yet practically juggle daggers at the drop of a pin."
"Hopefully not of a knife," her friend joked back at her. And so the way was passed in this fashion. Saril was glad indeed for the company.
*** This is all I have so far, but I'll add more, in chapters, pretty soon. OK? Groovy. Thanks for joining us, be sure to call again soon!