Remember Me

Remember me
when all is gone
and frost lays on the ground
Remember me
when right is wrong
against the silent sound

I wanted then
to be it all
to slay the dark
to dream .. to stall
the coming night
that all around us
crept and crawled

I wanted then
to save you
to protect what I thought
was mine
but it was all for naught
and wrought
from something fine
and rare
but not for me
to spare

From destiny
and fates
I could not fathom
their design
and lost forever
passed the gates
of nine
and fourteen
to some
it was but nothing
but to me
it was ... my everything

©2007 My Dear my Darling One

Pins and Needles

"Life could be a dream .. sweetheart"

I added the fur inserts to my leather boots .. the white larl fur spilling out over the tops and my pant legs now tucked within the cocoon. My jacket was well worn but still in excellent condition. The same fur rimmed the collar and cuffs to protect my neck and wrists from the ice and cold.

What had started out as cool kisses against the cheek began to slowly increase until instead of disappearing and melting into the soupy mud ... that river of plains began to coagulate and the little kisses started sticking to form a winter wonderland of light frost. It lit the night like some colorless evening lit only by blues and grays. It crunched beneath the heavy paws of the kaiila and each strike of hoof on frozen ground. The wagons screamed as their soaked fibers froze solid .. but we were moving. And that is all that counted. We were moving so when the ground did freeze we were on top of it. What had seemed a curse turned out to save us from getting mired too deep in the thick sucking mud. But at what cost? Could we thank the Sky for the snow? For the cold? Was the snow not a kiss of death to the Tuchuk? We were only days away from the Northern grazing grounds. This proximity would save us. We would push on until it was reached .. there would be no rest .. no stopping. We must move to grass for the bosk and now the nearest safety for them .. was the culmination of our journey.

Days were gray. Nights were eery. The world wore earmuffs and all sound was subdued and muffled. As if the clouds themselves had come down to live among us .. our neighbors. There was a peace .. a lack of anything else I suppose. People talked in whispers even though they did not need to. The land was sleepy .. like death. Peaceful .. like death. Quiet .. like death.

The next few days were like a dream. I do not remember much of them. They just passed like moments of sleepy recollection. Misty and soft. I think we could have wandered for years in that state and never even realized it. I wonder if it were only days. Perhaps it was years we lost .. it could have been.

It was the morning of the third day.. I think ... when the Central Fire broke across the land like a beacon and the frost and snow melted away as it climbed higher into the Sky. Pins and needles prickled across my shoulders and arms as the cold was chased away by the nearness of the equator. I have heard of rituals and prayers to call upon the Central Fire .. to bring it back to warm the land ... to bring the grass to life. I do not know if there were rituals done among us .. I do not know if anyone lifted their weapons and voice in prayer. I only know that the Central Fire has indeed returned and the bosk are once more safe.

Kiss of Death

Sonnet-Silence

There are some qualities–some incorporate things,
That have a double life, which thus is made
A type of that twin entity which springs
From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade.
There is a two-fold Silence–sea and shore-
Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places,
Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces,
Some human memories and tearful lore,
Render him terrorless: his name's "No More."
He is the corporate Silence: dread him not!
No power hath he of evil in himself;
But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!)
Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf,
That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod
No foot of man,) commend thyself to God!

-Poe

Precious

It was during one of my moments of nothingness called rest that I sat on the steps of the supply wagon and ate some food. A couple of the slaves were there .. T'zuri came and sat near. Chay came and was angry we were talking and not seeing to Falon. Falon was in good hands .. a healer who knew better than to endanger herself and if she did not know better? She was better off not dragging the rest of the Tribe down with her. Only the strong survive. I was not worried about Falon. She was strong and would take care of herself as she directed others to do. The rain continued to fall.

Blue told me she had her answer for me. I was wrong to think she could figure it out. She seems to over think things. Trying to find some mystical answer that seems wise and beyond mere mortal understanding. All I really wanted to know was .. what she wanted from me. She seemed offended that I would think she was the type of person to want something from me. She wanted to be different from those that merely wanted things from me. She wanted to offer me something instead. Silly female. She missed it. So simple. Women do not realize how uncomplicated we really can be. Perhaps that disappoints them .. I do not know. Raven seemed to get it .. a little. She should by now. How long has she been with me?

I have had a lot of people trying to think for me lately. I have even had a few threaten to leave the Tribe if I mated T'zuri. How silly that they would put their own selfish desires for who I sex in my furs over their own Tribe? Do they believe that threatening me in such a way will cause me to do what they want? Surely they know by now that even saying something like that makes me want to do exactly what they do not want me to do. But only to a certain extent. If I mate a woman it will be because I want to mate her not because someone did not want me to ... or want me to. But who I mate is my own business and not the Tribe's. If they are so far up my ass as to be in my furs with me while I am having sex .. it would be better if they left the Tribe. I can not live my life by the demands of others. Not when it comes to my cock and which pussy I thrust it into or for what purpose I do it.

The rest of my life is theirs to take from .. need from. I am there to listen to direct and to share. That is part of who I am. If I do not feel I have something to contribute I no longer am useful. But every man needs something that is his own. Something that no one else can have a say over or put their fingers on. Something that he alone has control of and that is precious to him. Sacred. Most men will fight to the death for this .. to keep it private and to keep it his. I am one of those men.

Rain on my Parade

When I returned to the Harigga it was chaos. Or I should say the aftermath of chaos. I had very little time to check on my friends .. there was much to do. I found Cana with Falon. Cana looked blown to some kind of hazy stunned place far away but she had Falon well in hand and was taking care of some kind of wound that had been received in the midst of the storm. Why any one of them were not safely under wagons I could not fathom but I did not have time to question these things as I went about helping secure the wagons of those whose tops had not survived the storm. The top to my own wagon had been ripped free but the slave wagon was intact and I moved most of my possessions there until I could fully repair the main wagon top. It was a good thing I did so.

Rain. The last thing we needed. Not just a pitter patter of musical drops but a deluge. The Sky just ripped open and poured itself down on us in liquid form. Sheets of water that blinded and drowned nearly as much as the wind driven dust. In the last vestiges of the wind there were times the sheets were vertical and there was very little that did not get wet. By the next day the rain had settled into a steady pour that kept on pouring even after the ground was choking full. There was no where else for the water to go so it just started piling up in pools and puddles making thick soupy mud everywhere. Our stores of chips were ruined .. only a few dry supplies were left and sparingly used for fires. We ate cold wet food .. we sat in the cold and wet .. we slept in the cold and wet .. we lived in the cold and wet until there did not seem to be another way. Had it always been cold and wet? Would our great grass ships become great water boats? Would we drown or grow gills to survive? What had not been blown away was now damp .. and that included our spirits.

Blow Me

When the wind started I was on the edge of the herd. I lived through many wind storms but this one was different. This one had a life to it .. it was an .. entity. It cried like an enraged kaiila .. screamed like a larl as it approached us. There was very little time to do anything about commands or organization. Several riders spurred their kaiila towards the wagons crying the alert of wind storm. I was left alone suddenly and I knew I had to wait .. there on the edge of the herd. I bunched the bosk that were not all ready forming into tight circles. The dust stinging my eyes and trying to tear the scars off my cheeks with stinging ferocity. I felt skinned slowly ... the flesh around my eyes above the wind scarf and my arms below the vest and above my gloves. But I did not stop until the bosk were turned away from the wind.

I was riding Kai .. and glad of it for the bulky beast did not seem to falter even with the worst of the wind. I could not see or hear by the time I pulled him down to his knees and I fell protected by his body. I could not hear save the insane screaming of the wind all around me as I shoved my head between my knees and rested my forehead against the smooth silk bulk of his hide. It felt like millions of tiny needles stripping my back of all flesh even beneath the leather vest as it crested over my saddle and tried to rip me from the safety of Kai's side. After a while I grew numb to it.

Even with the wailing and crying of the wind in my ears I found myself in my thoughts. Deep within where the screaming did not reach. I thought of those riders who .. without thought ... spurred their kaiila to the camp. Some loved one ... some possession that drove them to protect. My first thought had been the bosk. The parameter. The first line of defense. Was that because I was alone? I was worried for my friends and Tuchuk family at the Harigga. But I was worried for them as a collective. What would it be like to have someone special that I thought of even over the bosk? Would I ever have that? Or was I the type of person to think of the bosk first. Always. Would that change if I had a mate? Would it change if I had a child? Or was this who I was despite what life might bring me later?

I did not have answers to these internal questions. It felt natural to me to be there .. alone with the bosk and my kaiila. It felt good to know that I was in control of that line of defense. That the bosk would not break without my knowledge.

I am not sure how long the wind blew and screamed around me. I think it stopped several moments before I even realized it. Perhaps it was the movement of Kai beneath my forehead ... I blinked and lifted my head .. dust and bits of grass fell away from my head and shoulders.. I was nearly buried in it. But there was work to be done and I dug out to swing into the saddle and dig in.

What do you Want from Me?

I rode in towards the supply wagons to exchange empty bota for full plump ones. Taking a moment to eat a bit of jerky. I was alone among the moving wagons for a time. No one was around. Then blue came along and asked to serve me .. I told her I had served myself. She asked me then if I liked slaves.

What an odd question. I replied. "I like slaves as much as I like anyone .. why?"

She said she did not see slaves serve me much. I figured I did as much as anyone. But I can do for myself and if there is anything I despise more it is a slave who believes she has a right to serve me. Or that I need her in any way. A slave knows if I allow her to serve me ... there is my pleasure behind it .. not just the desire not to have to do it myself. She mentioned something about a slave wronging me. I asked her what she meant and she said she had seen bell wrong me. I asked her if she really believed any slave could wrong a man. She said hurting or betraying a man wronged him.

I shrugged. I told her bell's words to me were not easy to hear .. but she had neither wronged me nor betrayed me.

She said that telling a man he was a mistake wronged him.

I said .. it was true. I can not be wronged by truth.

She said truth was a fickle bitch and people could bend truth to fit how they wished to see it.

I chuckled. If I found such to wrong me .. if I took such personally I would find people in general impossible to like at all.

Then she asked me if I liked people.

Sometimes.

She asked why only sometimes. I replied that sometimes people were not likeable.

She asked me what made a person likeable. I replied that I was attracted to people who were interesting .. intelligent .. easy on the eye did not hurt .. and people who had enough of an identity on their own that they did not need to borrow from mine.

She said she hoped I would let her serve me. I replied .. you do. She said yes .. in some ways. I then asked blue what she wanted from me.

She replied to me that she did not want anything from me. She wanted to be things for me.

So I asked her why.

She said because I deserved it. I asked her how she intended to go about this. She said she had no plan .. she was just available.

huh.

She said she was not doing it for personal gain. That she had no emotional attachment to me. She looked for nothing in return. It was a gift.

huh.

She said I asked this question of all slaves .. yes I did. She asked me if I was used to slave's wanting something from me .. yes I was. I said to her .. that she would not keep returning to my feet if she did not want something from me.

She said that was not true.

I told her to go away ... to want nothing from me while she walked on the other side of the wagon.

She asked me if she had said something wrong.

I told her there was no right or wrong .. but she could walk over there and want nothing from me just as easy as she could walk over here and want nothing from me.

She begged to stay at my stirrup. I said ... Ah she did want something from me.

I asked her .. one more time ... what she wanted from me. She gave me a list of things she wanted to give me.

So I told her to go away and not approach me again until she had a better answer.

I wonder what answer she will come up with. I wonder if she got it. Or if she missed it by the sheer simplicity of it all.

Darkling I listen ...

I heard she sang a good song, I heard she had a style.
And so I came to see her to listen for a while.
And there she was this young girl, a stranger to my eyes.

But ...
She was not strumming my pain with her fingers
She was not singing my life with her words
She sang of something I've never experienced
Something I'm longing to learn

She sang as if she didn't know me in all my dark despair.
And then she looked right through me as if I wasn't there.
I wanted just to hear her sing .. some more of what I've never seen

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd
But it wasn't because I felt like she sang my thoughts out loud
I prayed that she would finish but she just kept right on
Singing of all that I want .. all there within her song

But she was not strumming my pain with her fingers
She was not singing my life with her words
She sang of something I've never experienced
Something I'm longing to learn

-slaughtered for my amusement

Beo

We finally came upon the scene. The dweller male was on one knee but still holding his scythe. The two outriders were taking passes at him but he had gotten in a few scores himself .. one of the kaiila bled from a shoulder wound and one of the riders from a gash on his thigh. They paused and saluted as I rode up. But it was not to them I spoke. It was to the man.

He was tall .. broad at the shoulder. His hair was long and red-blonde and twisted into braid like ropes with beads and bones. His beard was red. He wore patterned scars on his arms and many symbols or talismans around his neck. He was bleeding from many paper thin cuts given by the delicate paring of the lance. But there was still the light of battle in his gaze and I knew he had faced each test with courage or he would not still be alive at all. "Do you want to live?" I questioned.

"I am Beo. I will fight you to do so." He replied.

I grinned. "I have a bigger challenge for you dweller. You will take the child and care for her."

He stared at me for a long time before he would admit. "I am in no shape to care for the child."

I knew that all ready .. "You will be taken care of."

I saw the thought process flicker through his eyes. Was he spared death only to care for a child? A girl child at that? Yet .. would he have been spared at all if he had not shown courage at every turn? Did he want to stay with the Tuchuk? Did he want to die even less? I smirked as this progression of thought took place. He finally answered me. "I will care for the girl. But I will be no captive of the Tuchuk."

About now I could feel the anger boiling up from the outriders. I had spoiled their fun and they were not through paying the dweller sleen back for the few good strikes he had gotten in. But I was not only their commander I was the Ubar and neither one of them wanted a nightly visit from the Black Mask .. so they kept quiet. But I would face them later .. I knew this.

"I do not make deals with dwellers. You will come and live or stay here and die."

"I will live." He got to his feet. I rode up to him and handed off the girl child. He was weak and the rush of battle was starting to leave his muscles but he took her and perched her on his shoulder. I spun the kaiila around and the man began to walk just behind my stirrup and far enough to the side to avoid any kaiila pranks. I grinned through my kaiila's ears as I heard him walking behind me .. stumbling here and there. Never once did the little girl cry out .. never once did the man complain. I was pleased.

Spoils

"You"

"ME?" I stepped back through the doorway to feel the Central Fire once more upon my shoulders. "What do you mean .. me?"

"You." She simply said again. As she slid off the little bed in the corner and started to trot across the floor with click clacks from tiny boots.

"No!" I almost yelled as I dared the doorway again this time to catch her and keep her from going outside. "You can not go out there."

"I'm not afraid of you." Those big green eyes drilled holes right through my heart.

"You aught to be .. I am Tuchuk. I am the Ubar of the Tuchuk." It never sounded quite as hollow before. What was wrong with me? Was it the walls?

"I've been spanked before." Defiant lift of delicate chin.

"Not by me." Threatening low tone.

She seemed to digest that for a moment. "I'm hungry."

I opened my mouth to rejoin the argument .. but what does a man say to that?

Good Sky if she were any older I would be hearing the clank of the shackle as the ball and chain became permanently attacked to my ankle.

I loosed my wind scarf and tied it around her eyes .. picking her up to my shoulder I carried her through the yard of .. what I guessed ... was the remains of her family. The scene puzzled me. Not because of the blood or carnage .. I had seen enough of such to dull my sensitivity. No .. what got to me was that it did not belong. There was a mystery here. A mystery that would be shrouded and covered up by the fact that the Tuchuk had been here. Not that we would have hesitated to kill ourselves .. but getting credit for something we did not do left a sour taste in my mouth.

I put her up on the saddle and swung up behind her. She wore a pretty white dress with ruffles and pink ribbons and she wore white stockings and tiny boots with buttons on them. I was completely fascinated. Little porcelain fingers gripped her doll and the pommel. Her hair smelled like flowers and it was piled up on her head and allowed to fall down in haphazard ringlets. As she settled back against me I could feel her heartbeat. So the little thing was not as undisturbed by it all as I thought. Her heart hammered inside that small ribcage. A slight smirk curled my lip. Who knew a little dweller girl child could put on a brave front like that. It would be days before it dawned on me that she was not dressed like any village child I had ever seen. One more thing that did not belong in the picture.

Now .. what was I going to do with her? My heart still wore the scars and bled for Ani .. there was no way I was setting myself up for that kind of pain again. Of course .. as soon as she opened her mouth this little girl had divorced herself from any other comparison to my quiet Ani. But there was enough there I was not going to leave her to die of starvation or worse. Then I remembered the dweller man ... now there was an idea ... if he was still alive.

We rode away from the yard and when we were safely at a distance I removed her blindfold. Her voice had gotten a lot quieter and a lot smaller. "I want to stay with you."

"You can not .. I am a Tuchuk and you have yellow hair and green eyes."

"You stink."

"And you .. do not."

She thought for a time .. little knuckles white in their grip on the pommel .. eyes strait ahead without looking down on the kaiila. "I can be dirty."

I smirked. "It is more than that. Why are you not afraid of me?"

"Cuz.." small clearing of her through and a jut of her chin. "Because I saw bad and you aren't bad."

"I can be."

A much smaller little voice .. almost a whisper. "Not like that."

So she had seen a thing or two. I was sorry for that .. no child deserves to see that especially a little girl. I started to tell her .. I had done worse ... but the words would not leave my tongue. It felt nice to be the good guy for a change. Made me sit taller in the saddle. Fuck .. was I hooked. Precocious little shit.

of Raids and Wagers

As I rode out and away from the herd I grinned for ahead I could see the smoke rising from fields and from houses. Fate had placed a small village in our path this trip North. I knew most of the villagers would be long gone. Our herds can be heard coming for pasangs before we arrive. I touched spurs to Kai's flanks and picked up speed. Two Ubar's guards followed out of reach from my lance .. of course.

As I drew near I saw to my right a man .. bloody and beaten standing before two Tuchuk warriors. But in his hand he held a scythe and he looked like he could use it. As I watched one of the outriders charged the man and sliced his ear with a delicate flick of the lance. The man did not flinch or show any sign of fear or pain. I watched as they spear gambled for the right to kill this brave man. I was proud. But I did not get to watch how it turned out for from my left one of my men came riding hard and fast and reined in with a scream from his kaiila. He beckoned me to follow him. I set Kai around to follow the warrior and he took me to a small house on the edge of the village. It was a macabre scene .. even for one such as I. It was hard to tell without counting how many bodies had contributed to the parts which lay strewn around the yard. Dwellers turned into a nameless blood bath. But .. that did not explain why I was here and I said this to the outrider. He shook his head at me and explained that he .. we ... had not done this. How very odd .. I was still trying to get my head wrapped around that one when I heard an enraged scream from the house and one of the Ubar's guards came running out ducking a flying teapot just in time. That sent me off into a riot of laughter and I slapped my thigh as I tried to catch my breath. He just glared at me. I called out to him and asked him if some little female had gotten the best of him. He told me to go see for myself. Well the other outrider wanted to see if there was any loot for himself also and of course I had to go see this daemon woman.

I got just inside the door before my own fear of walls drew me up short. My gaze took a moment to adjust to the shadowed interior of the small one room cottage. That is when I saw her. A tiny little girl child with honey gold hair the biggest greenest eyes beneath the Sky. She was just sitting there. All alone. With a doll. Just like Ani. I felt the impact hit my chest like someone hefted an axle through my ribcage.

Point of Light

"Do you think I'm stupid, Fonce?"

"That is an unfair question Oren."

She chuckled at me.

I narrowed my gaze at her.

She patted my knee.

I shook my head.

But all in all it really was an unfair question. No I did not think Oren was stupid. Oren has lived a lot of life and survived and maintained her dignity and respect as a free woman. I explained this to her.

Then she asked me how I thought she ever got that way. Did I think she was just born that way? Did I not realize that women had to be taught to be that way? That given the chance they can learn?

Well when you put it that way.

"But I still did not believe I should admit for a moment that ..."

And she interrupted me. "Fonce, I won't tell you that what you said was wrong because I believe in what you said. I trust in what you said to be true and I live my life knowing that you and the other men are there to make sure I am safe .. that my children and grandchildren and their children are safe. But there is more of a truth there that you may be missing in your attempts to be strong and protect."

My jaw tightened but I nodded to her. "Tell me what it is that I am missing Oren .. please."

"Fonce, we all have to have chances to learn. Teaching is not necessarily admitting that there is a weakness. Teaching is to make something better than it has to be. Sakmeta does not have to know that talking to strange men is dangerous .. but she will be better if she knows that. Better, stronger, more reliable than she was the day before. And you need to let Polunu do so without taking away the value of it simply because you are afraid."

I sat up strait and twisted suddenly on her. "I am not afraid."

"Oh but you are, Fonce. You are afraid that people will get scared and panic and in their fear you worry they will endanger themselves even more. You even worry about your pride and your success and the shadow that might be cast on your own identity."

I thought about her words for a long time. "But these things are right and good for me to be concerned of .. Oren."

"Yes Fonce. But in your concern do not shut out the possibility of a chance to teach .. to allow others to teach. That it is not about how you may have failed but about how to make another human being stronger and wiser."

I shoved fingers back through my hair. "I did not mean to do all that."

"I know Fonce, and you didn't do anything wrong. You just missed a chance to further education. I know women have never really given you a reason to trust them Fonce. No one has, but give us a chance, we just might surprise you." She patted my knee again. And for once the gesture did not seem to be patronizing and I smirked and chuckled.

"You are different .. Oren." I said it with a grin but I actually kind of meant it. She was different. She never made me feel less of a man when she chided me or pointed out something I missed. She never questioned my honor or my pride .. she always validated my identity first and foremost and then slipped in a little candy of something extra for dessert .. if I wanted it. It was always something that I could refuse with no consequences. Which of course meant I rarely did because I was free to think on it without any strings and there was wisdom to be had for the taking.

It was why I brought the entire thing to her in the first place. There were things I was getting confused on. Ideas that did not make sense to me. Different rules for different people .. and that had never happened to me before. I needed to understand it. I needed to understand where these new feelings were coming from. And though I did not ask Oren about them specifically .. I learned another piece simply by listening to her advice on Polunu and Sakmeta. Just as I had listened when I spoke to Cana. Neither woman had a clue what all I took away from the talks with them.

I am not sure yet how far these pieces will go to help me in my relationships with women. I do not know if they will be keys to a better understanding. I know that I walked away from both conversations with a little more appreciation than I had before .. with a little more faith ... and a little more value for the female sex... with or without the sex.

A Little Closer

I thought Cana was going to burst at the fires. She was leaking at the seams with something she wanted to say and it was obvious. So when I left I leaned over and spoke quietly in her ear that if she wanted to talk .. to find me.

She did .. as I was carrying my saddle to the pens and I had just tripped in a hole with those new boots on and I was swearing the paint off a wagon. I did have the decency to look embarrassed and I apologized for my language. She told me she had five brothers and she had heard it all before .. I said ... but not from me. Until now ..

There are some women I will swear around .. they use the same language and speak a lot in the same way as I do. Cana is not one of them.

Anyway .. I hefted my saddle up on the wagon wheel and held it there with my palm as I spoke to her. She told me she was raised to never speak to strange men .. especially unscarred ones .. she asked me if that was wrong. I told her no .. it was not. That I had spoken at the Fires and told Polunu that Sakmeta's decision was a poor one. That he could and should speak to Sakmeta about her choices but that I was not going to back down for an instant and say that Sakmeta was at any time in danger while she was surrounded by warriors. Cana told me that the outriders had left the man to speak to Kam and that Sakmeta was alone with him for a few minutes away from the others. I told Cana that had not been made clear to me and I would have a few words with the outriders ... but that stranger was not just watched by those two men but many others.

Cana said that the man could have reached out and snapped Sakmeta's neck. And I told Cana that if Sakmeta put herself in a position where a strange man could simply snap her neck ... then the Tuchuk gene pool was better off without her. That I hoped Polunu would rein her in a little .. as I had expressed at the Fires .... but if Sakmeta happened to be bent on suicidal tendencies there was not much anyone could do about it and she would find her situation sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. If .. and I say if ... that was what she was truly after.

I do not believe that is what Sakmeta is after. But my point is that I will not save someone from themselves. I will provide a safe environment but I will not step between someone's self destructive tendencies and the culmination of that destruction. We are Tuchuk .. we do not coddle and swaddle and we do not have time to harbor that kind of intent. I will put myself in the way of a woman running out in front of a stampeding bosk .. but if she dodges around me to do it anyway I will watch and chew on a piece of jerky and let my kaiila feed on what is left. This is life .. live it or get out of the way so the rest of us can.

She said she was not sure what to do with Sakmeta. I told her in a case like this it was up to Polunu .. not Cana to deal with it. She said it was hard to care because she wanted Sakmeta to be all right despite some of her decisions. That is when I reminded Cana that she chose to care.

Caring was something she made a decision to do .. to give. That she should treat it as a gift and let it go when it was given. To not attach strings to it. To not take it personally if the gift was set aside or not valued. The acceptance of the gift did not reflect on her identity as the giver. She knew she gave a gift. Others knew she gave a gift and that was all that counted. It all wove together to be who Cana was. But there was no such connection to whether or not the gift was noticed .. accepted or valued.

She said she felt like she let Polunu and I down. Now that got her a rise of brow. Nothing could be further from the truth in my case at least. I told her she was a success at being Cana. And the Tribe was blessed to have her as one of them. She said she was nothing special.

I then told her that I would be fortunate to someday have the blessing of having a mate as beautiful .. caring and kind hearted .. as giving as she is. That if I had to pick something that she could improve on it was only that she sometimes saw her own value in the success of her gifts .. instead of realizing that the giving itself was where the importance lay. That people saw Cana for what she gave .. every day of her life to those around her and they did not concentrate on whether or not her gifts were accepted. She was the only one judging herself so unfairly and harshly.

She said she just wished for people to be happy .. to lighten their load a bit when she could. She asked me if this was a bad thing... I said no. It was a rare and fine jewel of a raindrop ... so tiny and yet full of a universe of life. Or a perfect green blade of grass. There was no price that could be set on it .. it was indeed priceless.

I left her with these words. To offer her time and energy and let it be a gift .. let it lift upon the winds and if it returned to her .. to be blessed. But if it did not? To know it was doing it's work quietly and her blessing would come from another direction.

But my talk with Cana left me with something eating along the edge of my thoughts .. suckling from the marrow. Something I needed to speak to someone about .. something I was unsure of. And I would be out of peace until I had the chance to do so.

Pretty in Pink

I was harsh tonight. I was harsh for a reason. I can not imagine anything more devastating than to get an idea started that women in the heart of this Harigga are in any danger. It goes against everything that I believe in .. fight for ... and bleed for. To let it be thought for a moment that my men would ever allow a threat within the area of the main fires. Did I not say that if I failed my people ever again that I would step away from the gray furs forever?

I was defensive. I was defensive of an idea. I was an egotist. A man saying that women are not capable of being stupid because men think ahead for them. That it really did not matter what a woman did .. front line was held by men. By warriors. I was a chauvinist .. assuming that women are and will be stupid by nature and are not allowed to make those mistakes.

I did not give an inch on this. I did not allow it to be questioned. I have a feeling that I upset some. That softer kinder feelings .. beliefs ... the caring for a woman even .. were most likely offended. I understand this. I do not regret what I said or did. I do not regret the hard position I took. I took it for a reason. That reason is Tribe .. the strength and unity. The honor of my men. Pride.

I am not Ubar to earn friends and make people feel good. I am Ubar to protect. To ensure the lives of this Tribe. I will offend people to do that. I will appear the bad guy.

I was not there. I did not see what Sakmeta did. I did not see if she endangered herself by putting herself in the vicinity of a stranger .. a dweller male. But I place my life in the hands of those men and the men that are always around the First Fires and I will not believe for a moment that Sakmeta had a chance .. was given a choice .. to endanger herself.

Little Treasures

Treasure. It can be defined in so many beautiful stimulating and erotic ways. This was none of those ways. It did not involve gold or grass or bosk or diamonds or that sweet tender edible spot on a woman that has nothing at all to do with her personality.

No .. this treasure was a pain in my ass... literally. And I know it was not date that stashed it. At least I do not think so. I will have to think about that one .. but ... I do not really believe so.

So how it got there I have no idea. Why it is there I can not say. Where it is now I can certainly vouch for.

Later I was sitting on my steps repairing some gear when Sakmeta came and wanted to speak to me. We spoke briefly of Cana and that Cana had told her she wanted Sakmeta to think of her as a sister. I told Sakmeta she could find no better woman to be concerned about her welfare. Then she asked me if I had idle conversation often. I had to chuckle. It is true that usually when someone asks to speak to me it is about something. Concerning something specific and that I rarely have idle conversations. I am not sure if that is because most people think I am busy .. or if I am just not a person that has idle conversations. It amused me though a little. It is something I have been toying with in my thoughts .. the whys and wherefores.

That night I fingered the little piece of metal that someone had valued enough to hide. A slight pang .. it was something Ani would have done. But Ani was not here .. Ani was dead. Right?

Really .. Bad ... Day

Did you ever wake up one morning and .. the simple act of waking up seemed to be an unpardonable sin of cosmic proportions?

Some little old man wrinkled beyond recognition stamps your life scroll with a great big "Fuck with Me" tag and the rest of the universe gets in line to do .. just that?

Where the age old adage "if it can go wrong it will" fills it's lungs and sits up pounding it's chest with your life's blood pumping through it's veins?

And by the time you survive the bulk of it your sparkling repertoire has been reduced to a very dry vintage of "figures" .. ?

If not .. I would not recommend it. If so .. you know exactly the kind of day I am speaking of.

Ancient Paths

We choose pathways every day. We make choices that take us one way or the other. Some of them are well traveled and smooth and others are ancient and not as well known. Sometimes when I find myself in new territory I look around for those that have gone before me and I see how their choices have effected their lives and how those choices impacted their freedoms .. reputations and the trusts they share with others.

Last night at the fires I was tired as usual and camp had just been set up. Many people came to join the warmth and light cast by the Main Fires. A council fire .. if you will. I saw many faces .. some I have not seen in a while like T'zuri's... speaking of T'zuri I must remember to tan her leather clad ass for her. But back to paths ...

Now Silken has been choosing a path lately. A path most of us have seen chosen before with pretty predictable results. But everyone has choices to make about their lives and Silken is a big girl .. a woman ... a mother. And it is about time she was allowed to make of her life what she will.

When it comes down to little brass tacks no one I know of saw her doing anything aside from self medicating with "herbs". So how far you take your path into the personal space of someone? I was not ready to take it there yet myself.

Last night she was a mess. I am guessing she decided to stop on her own .. wether out of necessity or conscience I do not know. But like I said .. she was a mess. She could not hold her hands steady. She was tweaking hard and could not remember what had happened from one moment to the next. It was not a pretty thing to watch. Shi pulled Falon aside from the fires and then passed a message to me that he .. with Falon's support ... was removing Silken from her Healer's duties until Falon cleared her. Locking her wagon of supplies even from her.

Now like I said Silken was not doing well but as far as I could see her mental capacity was not completely gone .. and I asked aloud if this action was to be a secret. Shi said he was only waiting for my support. I told him that I would always support a man's decision about his own mate .. especially if he had a Healer to back him up. But I did say that someone should inform Silken of this decision .. and I did not feel it should be me since it was not my decision. I figured Shi and Falon would take her aside and fill her in. I was wrong. Shi told her at the fires. If he was looking for the pathway of public humilation .. he found it. Not denying that Silken all ready had her toes over the line in that direction.

Now I do not have an ounce of pity for the struggle she was having with her own addictions. Silken chose a path and it was her path to walk. But should this have been done at the main fires? At some point I know everyone would become aware that our en Healer was no longer .. healing. And by Falon's words to me later it did need to be done. But could this not have at least been broken to her in private?

I do not know. I do not know anything. I was not made a part of this in any way save Shi let me know what path he had decided to take. And though Falon pulled me aside after the fact and told me directly of Silken's addiction to kanda I am still somewhere on the outside of it so who am I to judge how it should or should not have been done?

All I do know is that the paths we take must be considered very carefully for many of them lead to terribly predictable outcomes. Outcomes that threaten freedoms .. reputations ... and trusts we share around the First Fires.

Cadence of Her Last Breath

Running for her life
The dark rain from her eyes still falls
Breathtaking butterfly
Chose a dark day to live

Save one breath for me

A Loner longing for
The cadence of her last breath

Why do I miss someone
I never met, with bated breath I lay
Seawinds brought her to me
A butterfly, mere one-day miracle of life
And all the poetry in the world
Finally makes sense to me

Save one death for me

A Loner longing for
The cadence of her last breath

Put to rest all that's not life
Drink for beauty and fill my blank page

Sometimes a dream turns into a dream

A Loner longing for
The cadence of her last breath

-Nightwish

What a fool I am. To love a woman I have never met. To miss a woman I have never laid my eyes on.

Fonce .. you say ... There are many beautiful women here ripe for the picking and their reality can weigh heavy in your palm like a succulent fruit. Close your fingers on this man .. grasp it.

I am not stupid. I know it is a fantasy. But it is a nice place to visit. A nice place to think on when the night is cold and the furs are empty next to me.

I have never hurt her. I have never left a bruise on her cheek or on her heart with a careless deed or a careless word. In her distance she is perfect and pristine. And her words touch me like a Singer's song or a Year Keeper's story.

In my head she never gets too close. Never asks too much. Never pushes me into an uncomfortable place where the darkness comes to my defense and drives her away.

She is missing .. but she is not missing because of me.

Written in Years of Pain.. Blood .. and Scars

She said.. "Your father was wrong. You are not responsible for that."

I replied to her. "There are a lot of years .. and a lot of pain and a lot of blood that went into convincing me Tarra. It will not go away very easy .. I can tell you logically that it was not my fault but to believe it in my heart and soul is another thing entirely."

We were speaking of my mother's death of course. The way she died. My involvement in it.. whether real or perceived.

I look back over the years. The bulk of time that has made me who I am today and the staggering amount of experience that went into it. It makes me lose heart a little .. my hope fails ... that is a lot of time to remake and relearn and refeel.

To learn of people. Of feelings. Of motives. Of life. Of consequences and rules. To learn these things so completely that it is not only written on your heart and soul and mind but on your body as well. I can take your fingers and I can let you read the lessons in tiny white lines and marks on my back. It is all there lest I get too comfortable and forget.

If ever the reality fails you and the concepts of what I learned is just too surreal for you ... I have real live touchable examples to give you.

The idea of walking backwards through all of that and learning to see it in a new way is staggering to me. Who has that kind of time? And even if the time were taken is it possible? I have never gone backwards a step in my life. I have always taken the next step .. and the next and the next. Always forward. Adapt. Learn. Move. Survive.

Part of me rages against the very idea that I need to change anything about myself. Who would dare to expect me to? Who has the right to look me in the eyes and say that to me? Am I not a success? Have I not survived? Have I not done nearly everything I swore I would do? Who has survived as much as I have and can stand toe to toe with me and tell me ... I am not enough? Let them taste a fraction of this bitterness on my tongue and let them still stand at all.

But then a much quieter voice .. a tone used mostly for singing to the bosk ... intervenes and I must stop. I must listen. I must protect. For it was that very arrogance and valid self righteousness that led my own father to his destruction. To his death at the hands of his own Clan. I do not want to be this legacy. I do not want to pass on this inheritance. No matter who I am no matter what I have done ... I do want to be something different.

Have I carried this burden .. this guilt long enough? Has the shame of my life over hers bent my shoulders to the point I know no other way to walk? Can I ever forgive myself for her death? Could I ever forgive the man who taught this to me and wrote these things with years of pain and blood and scars?

The one man I want to ask all these things off .. that I want to demand answers from ... no longer lives. I must find these answers myself ... somehow.

To Grasp the Darkness

I was leaving the Clan fires when I heard my name in the dark and I paused to talk to Tarra. She asked me if she could ask me a personal question and I told her I answered most person questions brought to me. I could not think of anything I would not be willing to speak to her of.

She asked me of the other night when I was drinking. She asked me what took hold of me. As good as it is that someone noticed and asked me how I am .. it was still not easy to talk of. Still not easy to explain in words that make any kind of sense. I explained about my mother's death during my birth. She understood then.

She asked me if I blamed myself for it. I said of course ... do not most in that situation? But even if I did not I had someone to make sure I knew and realized it was my fault. She asked me who that was. I told her it was my father.

She asked me if that was why I was sometimes uncomfortable around families. And I told her yes. It was something I had spoken of to both Kam and Falon. I just did not have a lot of experience when it came to such and the experience I did have was not something I wanted to be sharing with anyone. I told her that my ideas of family have bent Falon up a little and so she asked me about what I meant by that.

I explained that I had not flirted nor made any push to get to know Falon in a closer way since Tayco's pyre. And Falon had finally approached me to ask of this. That I had told her of my reasons and that I had also told her that I would never mate a woman whose family I struggled to get along with. Tarra agreed that it was a very intelligent thing. She asked me then if I felt that about Falon's family in particular. I said that I had struggled here and there .. but as to whether that had straitened itself out or not I could not assume.

As a Tribe family I can forgive disrespect easily. I have many times. I do not take it too personally if someone disagrees with me or tells me I am wrong. I want people to have different opinions and ideas of how things should be done. And there will be times I learn from it and change .. and there will be times when I feel I am right and I will continue to do things as I feel is the best. But when a man and a woman get together there are enough struggles and issues and problems that they must work through ... especially if I am that man ... and I just can not see adding something else into the problem pile. She understood me. I am pleased that she did. To have your feelings validated is a good thing.

She told me Falon could handle a lot more than I gave her credit for. I told her she very well could be right but Falon and I never got closer than friends before Tayco's pyre. And though I consider Falon a good friend I never got to know her more than that .. or her I. So what she could handle or not handle was still something I did not know of Falon.

She said we should get off our asses and get to know each other .... then she said that was probably the mother coming out in her.

I said no. If it were the mother in her coming out she would not let me within a pasang of her daughter.

She asked me if it was because of the dark storm that raged within me. I replied .. yes.

She said .. One thing about storms.. they are not meant to be controlled ortamed merely guided and supported even when they lash out in a destructiveforce. She said that Falon has lived with a dark storm all her life but that she .. Tarra ... hid it better than I did.

I asked Tarra then if she was telling me that she would be all right with Falon being abused.

She said no.

I said good. I was pleased she understood exactly what I meant then by my earlier statement.
She said she also understood that those with a dark rage can feel more intensely than others .. that they can still feel and know the positive .. that violence can be an element in a relationship at times and it can be a positive thing depending on how it is channeled.

I told her I was aware of this .. but that I was not always successful at channeling mine in a positive manner. That was my point .. entirely.

She said right now I have not learned to do so. That in time I might grow to the point where I was in control of it.

That is a big might. That is a big .. maybe. A giant .. perhaps. It looms larger than life and darker than black to me. A gulf I do not know if I can ever cross ... a chasm I have not seen the other side of .. nor can I fathom the depth of. For now I must live and act with what I do know .. and what I can fathom. But her words give me thought.

I wonder if I will ever be able to hold the darkness in my hand.

Bottled Blue

Blue is a slave. Fairly new to the First Wagons .. actually fairly new to the Tuchuk period. A slave taken from a caravan of entertainment. She seems happy .. vibrant. But there is something all bottled up in blue that leaks out around the edges sometimes.

Now blue and I did not get along at first. I found her thoughtless and inattentive. I found her annoying and brazen. I told her stay the hell away from me while I was wounded. I told her to stay away from my things.

Now I have noticed a bit of a change in blue. She seems to be listening. She seems to be paying better attention. And she seems to want something from me. Now what that is I do not know .. but I see it in the way she moves around me .. in her eyes when they are on me. She seems expectant .. or wishful of something in me. I do not know what that is.

Now blue was there the day bell spoke to me and told me the story of the small boy and let me know I was a mistake .. that she was not meant by the Sky to care for me as she had done. That she was where she belonged now. With the boy. With Cana's wagons. Since that day blue has spoke to me of the color of my eyes .. or as she put it ... lack of color. When I ask blue what she wants .. she says she wants to put the color back in my eyes. I am not sure what this means exactly to blue. Why that would fulfill something in her?

She was pleasing enough the other day and I let her ride with me on my kaiila. I do not do that often but ... it was my time to relax and catch my breath and replenish my water before returning to the herds. And relaxing with a female body pressed against my own is always a good thing. But she fell from favor with me that same night when she tried to serve both Kai and I at the same time .. and I was the afterthought. Did she honestly think that I would do sloppy seconds? I am the Ubar of the Tuchuk. I have hundreds of slaves and anyone of them to please me with just a gesture. And I can guarantee you that when any of them serves me I am their focus. They put considerable time and effort into seeing that I am pleased. So why would I put up with being an afterthought? Something slid into a routine to make it all go easier and faster and kill two birds with one stone? Am I a chore? A task? Something to get out of the way? I would not find that acceptable as a warrior with no position out at the fringes of this camp ... let alone as the Ubar.

Blue confuses me. Sometimes she seems so focused on me and ... there is that something that I feel she desperately needs and wants from me .. and other times she is lost in some other world. Some other thought or place that has her attention. I think there must be a hell of a lot going on inside blue. A lot of something that is all bottled up and waiting to be opened.

Directionally Challenged

"I need to die to feel alive"

Did you ever hear what I told you
Did you ever read what I wrote you
Did you ever listen to what we played
Did you ever let in what the world said
Did we get this far just to feel your hate
Did we play to become only pawns in the game
How blind can you be, don't you see
You chose the long road but we'll be waiting

Bye bye beautiful

It's not the tree that forsakes the flower
But the flower that forsakes the tree
Someday I'll learn to love these scars
Still fresh from the red-hot blade of your words

...How blind can you be, don't you see...
...that the gambler lost all he does not have...

Did you ever hear what I told you
Did you ever read what I wrote you
Did you ever listen to what we played
Did you ever let in what the world said
Did we get this far just to feel your hate
Did we play to become only pawns in the game
How blind can you be, don't you see
You chose the long road but we'll be waiting

Bye bye beautiful

-Nightwish

Father

T'zuri said I had taken away her fear but I had left the sadness. I told her there was never a place for fear .. respect perhaps. Respect for something bigger and stronger but not fear. She asked me if I was ever afraid of anything .. did I not fear something?

I had to chuckle. Well of course I was. Just because I could sit and say what should be did not mean I always could do it myself. There were plenty of things I had fears about.

She asked me to give her an example and I asked her if she wanted a fear I had gotten control of or if she wanted an example of a fear I still had. Well of course after learning there were two types she wanted examples of each. Of course.

Well I told her I used to be afraid of people. What they could do to me. What they could take away from me. But I was not afraid of them any more. Most of that eased off when I got strong enough to protect myself from them. Still do not always trust them .. but I no longer fear them. I told her I used to be afraid to die. But that was a long .. long time ago. I have not been afraid to die since I was three.

I told her I was still afraid that I would cease to be before I left something behind. A legacy. Something to remind people of who I am and what I have done .. like she does for her father. She said I should become a father .. that I would be a good one and that led me to my next fear.

I told her I was afraid I would be my own father's legacy. That I would pass on what he left to me and that it would not end with me.

She said .. but would not knowing the difference be the key? To avoiding being what I did not want to be?

Well if only that were true. I told her I did know the difference .. and I told her I had a good reason to fear. I am not always who I wish to be.

She said she would hope that my father gave me some of the wisdom that I have. I replied. He gave me nothing .. but he taught me plenty. And there was a sharp edge of bitterness to my tone when I said it.

I think she began to realize that our relationships with our fathers were very different.

Then she said .. that when she looked at me she did not see my father at all.

That meant a lot to me. More than I can say. Not because she knew my father and could tell a difference. Not because she had anything to compare because she had never really seen that side of me. Not really. It meant a lot to me because it was just that good to hear. No matter what she knew or did not know .. it just was really .. good to hear it.

She said some other things that meant a lot to me. Things about her own Father .. a man I had come to respect in the short time I knew him ... and about me. In the end I am no longer sure which one of us was helping the other but I think we both were better off after all was said and done.

I wish I did not see my father in me at all .. like she said. But I do. I wish I had no legacy to pass on .. but I do. I hope I can be different than my father was .. but I do not know. I hate that I can see him in me. I hate that I carry him at all .. that I keep any part of him alive. I wish I had known T'zuri's father better. I wish I had a father like that. I wonder who I would be today if I did.

Scattered Pieces

I have been providing meat and other essentials to T'zuri's family. This time it was a kailiauk doe I had stalked. I had seen her the day before and I noticed the nearly perfect pattern of bars. The red and black perfectly spaced on the tawny hide. It was rare and I knew it would make a nice piece so I also knew I did not want the hide to be marred by lance or arrow. I used a bola.

When I got the animal back to the Harigga I butchered it and I wrapped the meat in the hide and hefted it up on my shoulder and took it over to their fires. This time I did not walk quietly but let my step be heard before I got there ... though when I did arrive I found T'zuri in a million pieces and not one of them was anywhere in the same reality I was. I think if I could have painted a picture of my dismals it would have looked a lot like T'zuri did that night. But my first thought was that it was something specific that had caused this and I went to sit with her on the steps of her wagon.

She asked me if I had ever missed someone like a hole next to me that I kept falling into. Well I knew that feeling well. Too well. Seems I do not have a lot of important people in my life but the few I have I care rather deeply for. So when they go I do not have a lot to fill in the space with. And I miss them like a piece of my lung and it is harder to breathe without them.

She was sad. Missing her father. I told her being sad was a good thing. It meant that there was someone left that could remember and keep the spirit alive. How was anyone to know a man if there was no one left behind to remember and miss them. To sing the songs of their deeds and say things they used to say and make them real to people that had never met them.

You know .. every man needs that. Someone to miss them when they are gone. I just can not believe for a moment that kind of sadness is a bad thing. It got me to thinking about Dubois and Ani and how much I miss them. I decided right then to go visit a few Elder Haruspex and sit down and talk of Dubois with them. Kind of bring her memory back alive a little.

I can not do that for Ani yet. I do not know if I ever will. But if I do I know it will be after Aunt is dead and I have won the war of the Clan. Until then it is not a thing in me to do.

Elemental

There is something about date that is .. elemental. Like back to basics. Like grass. Now I do not see much of her and with bell that turned out to be a bad thing .. but with her it does not seem to matter.

I am just that good.

I was very smart to get a kettle girl. I have never returned to my wagon to find it musty .. or dusty. Yet everything is in place and nothing has been mucked with ... and I like that.

There is always a cold meal waiting for me no matter what time I come in day or night. Even if I do not come in for a couple of days ... it is fresh and not dry. But I never actually see her doing any of this. Sometimes I try to catch her .. keeping my schedule varied and mixing it up. But so far I have not been able to surprise her. It makes me chuckle.

Oren and Astar are very pleased and have told me so. They thank me for the extra help with cooking .. cleaning and the animals. They said she was a delight to talk to. Weird. Even Pacu slapped my shoulder and winked at me about her and I had to pick my jaw up off the grass. Made me kind of glance at her out of the corner of my eye .. perhaps she is not just for cleaning and cooking. Hm.

Now I have had sex with date .. but never really thought about her like that. And if that does not make a bit of sense to you I can understand. But that is still the way it is. I love her smile and I like the cool feel of her touch. But it has not occurred to me to have her live inside my wagon nor do I seek her out to spend a lot of time with. She sees to my needs ... my elemental needs. And I like it like that. The rest is just more complicated than I want to get right now.

Though Pacu's wink does have me somewhat curious. Just what did Pacu find in that little smiling package?

Enough Alcohol Does not Exist

Have you ever felt the desire to be real so badly that it consumes every cell that you have in a white hot fire that finds no solace ... it does not destroy or turn to ashes .. there is no final peace ... it simply burns.

Sometimes it seems so close. Like this husk of my skin will fall away and I will be able to see and feel and be .. to experience what it is to be like everyone else. I want to reach out and touch life .. I want to feel it in a way that makes sense. And sometimes that seems just barely out of reach.

Other times it is very far away. The dry logic slips around me in a comfortable shroud of apathy and distance and I experience everything from the inside out instead of the outside in.

Alcohol is not my vice. It is very rare that I drink. For several reasons .. some I have stated .. as in I do not always like who I am when I drink and for a more specific example of that reason I will expound further. Alcohol thins the veneer of apathy. Sometimes in a good way .. sometimes in a bad way. Sometimes the positive and negative switch quicker than people can keep up with. Like flashes of lighting on a plain's vista each shock wave produces a different effect. Not always controlled. So it follows that if you wanted to get to know me really well ... get me drinking. But what you get will be a mixture of really good and really bad for the nice shroud that protects us both will be very ... very thin.

Now that is just a lot of chances I am not willing to allow with the general public. The general public just does not deserve that kind of punishment.

Usually.

Anyway. I was not drunk last night ... but I was drinking. Now I know a lot of people thought I was drunk because they never see me drinking and assumed if I am drinking I therefor must be drunk. There is no law against drinking though I will say there are expectations of not making yourself a nuisance. Anyone that does not understand the difference is ... stupid.

But I begin to digress.

I was perfectly comfortable with my bottle of clear heaven that tastes like pure hell. Feeling the warmth around the edges .. that first little secure blanket of settling numbness. If only I had been drunk .. I probably would never have heard the others speaking of cutting Chay's baby from her womb. If only I had been drunk I might have been so numb all ready as to not care any more. Instead I was caught in the middle where I was just letting go of the tight control ... and before the numb.

But like I said. I was not drunk. I do not believe I have ever been .. that drunk. I like to think there IS a "that" drunk. But part of me knows there is no amount of alcohol that can take away the pain .. the confusion. The bright flashes of something I do not remember. Like a lot of wagons passing my eyes too quickly to see the paintings and only the feelings come through. One after the other too fast to really understand or comprehend. One half of my mind struggling to put together the pieces of the puzzle and the other half intent on sabotage .. rearranging them as quickly as they start to make some sense and before they make a picture.

I wanted to get away. I wanted to get away fast enough that when I stood and backed up I tripped over T'zuri and almost stepped on Saresh. Kam thought I was drunk too. He grabbed my arm .. I suppose to save me some kind of dignity. But I was not drunk and I looked him in the eye so he knew it. I removed his hand from my arm with steady strength in my fingers and there can have been no doubt in his mind that the alcohol had not reached the point of impairment. If only it had.

I wanted to tell him not to do it. Not to cut her apart like that. Not to .. but all I could get out were the words .. do not do it .. please. He probably has no idea what I was talking about and I guess that is all right. Not really my business at all. Some people know. It is not secret. I have spoken of it aloud many times and by now there should be no doubt why I leave the fires when the subject is brought up. But they still think it is amusing and they still think it is just squeamish stomach for something I have no knowledge of. It is better that way. It was just a little too real last night for me. A little too close and I wanted to escape back into the safety of forgetfulness. Back into the tight control. Too late for that I had started drinking ... the only way to get away was to continue. And I had nearly a full bottle of aid in my fingers and I made for damn sure no one would interfere with the curing process.

Lavinia

I think the girls must get together and talk. Probably dare each other to try to make me uncomfortable. It was not but a few days after all the teasing at the stream about braiding hair that Lavinia showed up at the fires with her wet hair all piled on top of her head. And what does she go and do? Asks me to braid it.

Now I did not think she was serious. Not for a moment. Not because it is a personal thing .. it is. But because I am admittedly scared to death to braid a woman's hair.

Now I know how to braid as I have said before. It is just different on a woman's head. Why? Well I suppose it has something to do with the fact that it is a personal act. But mostly it is just I know my hands are scarred and callused and I know I would make a fine mess of it. I know I would be teased and the entire idea just does not appeal to me. Why would I put myself in that situation on purpose? Just no reason I can think of.

But I think I hurt her feelings. I do not believe she realized the truth behind what I said. Perhaps she did not believe that I would be scared of such a simple thing. Perhaps she believed it was just her. Well it was not and if she does actually talk to the other women she will find out my avoidance goes for them all.

Now she pushed me pretty hard. I am not sure if she really wanted me to braid her hair for a reason I am still in the dark about ... or if she was just trying to test me to see if I would or what I thought of braiding women's hair as a personal kind of act. If I would threaten to collar her for the request. Which of course I told her was a silly notion. You have to step a lot further into my personal space for me to bring up the subject of a collar with any kind of serious intention.

I almost followed her when she left. But then I got to thinking that following women and trying to talk to them lately has just gone all wrong for me and I better just sit right where I was and let it go. If she was uncomfortable the last thing she needed was me back in her space trying to get her to define what made her uncomfortable .. especially if it was me.

Probably the first smart thing I ever did when it comes to a woman.

She Touched Me

A long time ago a warrior left his people .. at the request of a commander. No one else knew of this .. why ... or what the task was. Not even the Ubar. But it was important to both the commander and to the one he trusted to undertake the task. The warrior was gone from his people for almost a year. To a Tuchuk that can be a lifetime. And in this case it was .. for he lost many things because of his quest and his word that he would not speak of it to anyone.

When the warrior returned he was gaunt .. starved and exhausted. There was a woman who quietly .. gently ... and without too much stimulus .. fed the man a simple Tuchuk meal. He could not finish it .. his stomach refused to accept too much too soon. But it was more than the food that touched the warrior. It was the simplicity of all that he stood for and all that he bled for.

I will never forget. In that moment a connection was made that will never be broken or tarnished. I have never spoken of it. I have never acted on it. But it is there none the less .. like a sleeping sleen with one eye open or a sheathed weapon. The Sky will regret ever bringing her to any harm ... let alone a mere human.

She touched me. And I bled inward. She yet again offered me the simplicity of all that I stand for and all that I die for and all that live for. She handed it to me like she performs these great deeds on a regular basis and I suppose she does. For her there is nothing more there than what she does for everyone ... but I am not everyone. To me it is like a lone star in the Sky .. something that I will never get too close to but that I understand is a great cosmic power and I would be less of a man than I am today without it. Knowing it is there .. is enough.

She asked me .. if I remembered it.. the meal. Even she does not realize what slumbers just beneath the surface. If she did she would not ask me such a question. But it is better she does not understand or fathom it. It is better she remains as innocent and fragile ... not that she is physically weak. She is Tuchuk. But I speak of her spirit and heart. Even I have pricked the tenderness of it and caused it to bleed. So I try to keep her at least at a bit of a distance .. for her own protection. But I am there .. and I am watching. And I always will be.

Respected

It is not usual for a dweller to be given pyre rights like a Tuchuk. Unheard of at least in my time .. which granted is not that long. I did it myself. I sent his spirit to the Sky where it belonged. The Fathers will welcome him and grasp him as one of their own. This I know.

This one was different.

I did not know him for long. Though in a way I probably know more about him than anyone in his life. My methods are methodical. Precise. Perfection spelled out with the edge of a razor's edge. Death is not easy .. nor quick. A lot of time for ... good conversation.

It was not personal. I had nothing against him. He had not wronged me or mine. There had been a skirmish. He had killed two Tuchuk before he was taken. Killed them as warriors. It was not personal. His courage and skill brought him to my hands. I am the Ubar. I am Black Mask. It was an honor.

An honor to die at my hand.

And he died well. There was no pleading for his life. There were no attempts to bargain. He knew he would die and he knew he would die with great pain. But he still showed courage and honor.

He sang. He sang until the very end. Never once did he answer my questions no matter what I did to him. I do not even know his name. He would not give it to me. I respect that. I think he would have danced ... if he had been able.

I have never tortured a more brave or courageous warrior. He was very strong and took a long time to die. Every bit of flesh I revealed to the night's moons taught me more and more respect. At the end I would say he knew me well also. At the end his voice began to fail him. At the end I took off my mask and I let him see my face. At the end we shared a bit of water. At the end I grasped his hand and he grasped mine and he died as I finished his song in my own voice .. lifting it to the Sky.

It was an honor. But it was all mine.

With These Hands

I do not remember how the conversation began with Falon. It was one of those that began innocently enough though. Not one of the conversations where you throw a challenge out there like a lance into the soil. So the beginning of it is a little hazy to me .. I only remember the meat of it ... the part that stood up and screamed at the Sky.

I am not always proud of who I am. I am a proud man but .. there are things about me that I am not proud of ... parts of me ... things I do. Things that get into the way of my relationships. Falon said that her foot goes into her mouth and that gets into the way of her own relationships. She snickered ... it set me off a little. I did not see anything in the conversation to snicker about. This thing sabotages my life on a regular basis. She said she was only snickering about herself. I was still sore about it.

She asked me why I thought my relationships tend to lead to disaster. Ouch. But like I said .. I may not be proud of all the things I do but I will stand up under them for they are mine to answer for. I told her they tend to lead to disaster because I hurt people. The things I say .. do ... and I am a physically violent man with a terrible temper. She said .. that is who you are. Ouch. And I replied .. it does not make it any easier.

She said at least I knew this about myself and I did not cover it up. I replied .. of course not. It would be a hard thing to hide. She smirked at me and brought up raven. I replied that raven means more to me than most slaves.

She said the closer they get to me the harder I am. I suppose that is true. She then asked me where I thought the anger and violence came from. I avoided saying my fists ... instead I asked her why she asked me that question. she replied because she wished to know ... I knew that or she would not have asked ... but I still wanted to know why she wanted to know this and she said it was a part of me and she wanted to get to know me.

My reply to that was dry. I told her I did not believe she really wanted to get to know me ... at least those parts of me. She said she actually did.

Instead of arguing with her about something she had no understanding of I instead asked her what she would do if I jumped across the fire and backhanded her for her mouth at the fires? What would her mother .. brother ... grandfather do?

She said if she deserved it .. she would get what was coming to her. I had to chuckle. I did not believe that for a moment. I asked her if she really meant to tell me her family would not honestly and rightly hate me for such a thing? Did she expect me to believe that her mother .. after all she had been through ... would put up with her own daughter being abused? She said that she was not her mother and that if she could not stand up for herself and say enough was enough that she deserved to be staked out in front of the herd. I asked her if she really thought that would work with me .. I mean .... really.

She told me then that if she rightfully got herself hit over something she said or did that her family would not interfere .. any more than she would in their own relationships. I laughed. I laughed hard. Did she expect me to believe for an instant that if she sported a broken lip and a black eye that her father and brother would not step in? At least confront me and ask what the hell? What if she did not deserve it? What then? I am no hero .. I have hit a woman and they had done nothing more to deserve it than get close to me. So what then?

She shrugged. She told me that she was not sure .. they might or might not. Sometimes they seemed to care about some things and not others .. to get bent out of shape for one thing and seem oblivious to others.

Now I understood that. Without being in someone's head it is not always easy to figure out why they do what they do and some things can seem incongruent .. without rhyme or reason.

But there were so many questions I had .. so many things I wanted to say. Things that got interrupted by the reality of being Tuchuk in the middle of a great move North. Though I suppose most of what I had to say would have been expounding further on things all ready said .. questions I had to ask would be better asked of those that had the answers. I felt a great frustration building up in me. This continued frustration with trying to understand the dynamics of families and how they worked and functioned with each other. I did not want to believe the words she said to me .. I could not ... and yet who better to speak for a family than one who had a family?

Am I wrong for hating myself? Am I in a minority for the very loathing of this part of me? My mind only finds solace in the knowledge that Falon has no idea what she speaks of when it comes to my temper or my violence. She has never tasted it or been hurt by it. It is easy to say that it is a thing understandable and livable when it has not destroyed your life. It is easy to say that one will not interfere in another's relationship when it is not a woman you have cared for and protected all your life. It is easy to laugh and joke about something if it has not shadowed your existence from conception. I want to understand the things she says .. of her family. But there is something that wages a great war against it ... that refuses to believe that this is how it works .. that this is how it is supposed to work.

I am left still a man torn in two by his very pride and arrogance in the things that he has built and the work that he has done .. torn in how that correlates to the hatred and loathing of the things his hands have torn asunder and beaten to death.

In the Land of Shadow

When I reached the main fires I was still stepping with a certain rhythm that sung somewhere inside my spirit. There were many there and .. dust and sweat aside ... they recognized me of course. Cana brought me food and I was a little surprised but thankful. I was hungry .. I had not realized how much. It was not long though before I caught on to the strained vibe between Sakmeta and T'zuri. The two I .. I thought ... had been friends. Now friendships come and go around the First Wagons especially when there are men involved but I figured I knew which man both were interested in and I was not sure how that had crossed paths. So I figured it was something else. This presumption was more solidified when Sakmeta asked me for a few moments to speak and I told her as soon as I ate I would be all over it.

Falon had told me earlier that Tarra wished to speak to me and I had told her that I was easy to find and when Tarra found me and asked I was more than ready. Tarra spoke to me at the fires and made plans to speak later .. she looked tired and ready to rest and I nodded to her and turned to speak to Sakmeta .. but she disappeared without a word. Something was indeed up and I meant to get to the bottom of it. Since I could not find Sakmeta I went to find T'zuri. I did not find her until much later.

Now it is no secret to me or around the fires that T'zuri has a crush on me. And I call it a crush because I believe it is her first thoughts of such things. Am I taking it lightly? No .. I would not say that ... a woman's first crush can and has turned into her life's love but .. not always. T'zuri needed time to learn .. to grow ... to really know who I am before I would trust that her crush would not fade and die within the burning wasteland of who I am. My soul is a dark black hole. No I would not say black ... I would say lack of color. Whatever you wish to call that. It is a place where there is no color .. no black no white no gray no red or blue or green .. or any shade in between. So I have respect for her words .. but very little faith in their ability to thrive and grow.

But I digress. It was later when I found T'zuri at her family's wagons and the coals of the fire had died to a dull red. I watched from the shadows as long as a man can watch an unmated woman without it turning into spying. I stepped forward and spoke to her and she smiled. That kind of smile that lights things up. I asked her what was wrong. She said she had been missing me. I asked her why .. I was right here.

I sat with her for a time. Then I entered through the back door and I asked her of a kiss. I asked her if she would kiss a man that was not her mate. And by that thread I brought up Sakmeta and the wager of her kiss with Kaz. Not that it was any of my business but I really wanted to find out what was going on between them. It spilled out at that point. I have never seen T'zuri act more like a spoiled jit with her fist caught in a gourd ... save for when she was mucking around with my laundry. She was properly contrite though. Not that I expect her antics to ease up any time soon. But at least in this case she had run smack into the wall of the reality that stirring a stick in other's affairs is not always a safe and sane thing to do .. despite the amusement factor. Now I am pretty sure there was more to it than that but at that point I had put my arm around her in a .. friendly sort of comforting way and things got really uncomfortable. There came a sudden sweeping realization that it was not an old woman .. or a sexually neutral human that was sitting next to me .. but a very viable young woman.

Who was sneaking through whose back door?

There was someone close. And of course that set off all the jingling bell alarms in my head and I felt that old black magic start to swirl into a familiar vortex and I .. left.

Lack of courage you say? No .. lack of desire to paint my anger and darkness on another human. Lack of desire to see the marks of my own frustrations laid upon her flesh. Lack of desire to extinguish this pretty little spark of flame that she seems to have for me. Now a man does enjoy being looked at for who he is. No lies or fantasy to shade and color .. just the stark exposed knowledge of who he really is. But there is something to be said for the dreams of the naive when they shine from the eyes. A man needs to be looked at like that too .. like he can do no wrong. Like he is something bigger and better than he really is. I did not want to snuff that out with reality. And I knew I would. I always do. Just .. not tonight.

Must be Jelly ...

'cause jam don't shake like that

It’s a wonderful night
You’ve gotta shake it for me
It’s a wonderful night

Come on and break it on down

Girl I want it you got it
Your body’s like a narcotic
The thought is auto-erotic

Come on and break it on down
-Fatboy Slim

I am not sure if it was my singing .. or just because I was so dirty that I was unrecognizable. Coated with dust and dirt .. crusted with sweat ... I was a generic Tuchuk. The disturbance of scars along my cheek could be seen but the colors were muted and my deeds were anonymous. Those gathered around an outrider's fire gestured for me to join them. There was paga and celebration for the soul purpose of .. well ... celebration. Were there not enough things to celebrate? We were alive. The bosk were well. The axles were greased ... the quiva were sharp .. it was a good day.

So for a few moments I enjoyed the life of every Tuchuk. No one saluted me .. there were no signs of recognition for my position ... only that I was a Tuchuk man and that was enough. It is not often that I sit with my own people as one of them and not the Ubar. No one paused at the edge of my furs .. no Turian slaves washed the feet of those that approached .. not that I sit on a dais and put myself above those at the First Wagons but my position is always there ... and here it was just me and the others sitting on the grass and drinking paga and singing songs of great battles and greater men. Men whose names are remembered among us as great warriors of courage. There were drums .. and flutes and soon a sassy Tuchuk slave girl with finger cymbals began to dance. She was beautiful and her rhythm was hypnotic. She cavorted and teased .. spun and revealed and soon we all began to wager with laughter for her use. It was a haphazard contest .. a mixture of skill and wagering. By both chance and talent I won and among the whistles and yells I threw her down and made use of her beneath the stars and among men of my blood .. brothers of my flesh ... and she was game. Still teasing and flirting when I threw her to the next man and toasted him with the bota of paga as she performed as well for him as she had for me.

There in that small world of firelight and stars I misplaced my dismals and got the rhythm back in my step.

Shades of Blue

Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah! do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquered woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come; so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might;
And other strains of woe, Which now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.
-W.Shakespeare

Well it was later. With dust caked into every orifice I have and the Central Fire had leached every drop of moisture from my body ... I caught myself a terrible case of the dismals. Now I had no reason for it .. well no more reason than usual. Not that I did not have enough reason for it just regular like ... but this was something out of the ordinary and it settled down on me in a heavy gray shroud of the blues. I could not have been more sick with it if I had a fever and chills and it was a physical ailment with achy bones and all. It must have snuck up on me while I was not looking because I sure did not see it coming and it had a fierce hold on me.

It was me and Kai and we must have made a pair .. the two of us. Kai with his broken fang and tore up eye and wide head that just always looks a little angry and foul anyway. And me ... sporting a melancholy that could depress the paint off the side of a wagon.

I am pleased enough that no one of the First Wagons witnessed it. It was not pretty and it was not attractive. But at the time I did not care much. I was too weighted down with the entire world on my shoulders and I was sure it had been there long enough to grow roots down through my feet so every step was like tearing away an entire generation's worth of growth.

Anyway that is how I felt and it came on so sudden I did not have a chance to prepare any kind of defense against it. I felt over run .. conquered ... captured and enslaved. Shackled by a heavy burden .. well that reminded me of a song ... so I took to singing.

Famous Last Words

"I hope I never want the easy ways in life .."

It was the phrase that started a discussion with Falon. I had to disagree. I do want easy ways in life. I just do not have any great expectations it is going to get easy.

She asked me then .. where is the challenge? And I replied .. where is there not a challenge? Challenges come without us having to look for them.

For me life is not about looking for challenges ... it is about facing them when they come ... and they will come. She agreed but said as long as it did not become stagnant. I said .. what stagnant. Show me stagnant. It does not exist.

I want to be comfortable a much as the next man. I want an easy path. I will not lie just to sound as if I do not know what hardship is. I have had hardship all my life ... I have had enough nothing to last a lifetime. I am well sick of it. Does that mean I will not do what it takes? Of course not. It just means I can not say ... that I like it.. or want it.

Falon said I had lived on the plains all my life and she only a short time. But I told her I do not believe it has anything to do with living on the plains. I believe people face challenges no matter who they are or where they are. I do believe it is easier to see it out here on the plains. Things are more clear. I do not believe being Tuchuk is about wanting more hardships or more challenges or wishing for a tougher life than anyone else. I think being Tuchuk is about wanting things to be more simple .. basic. More open and free ... without all the trimmings and walls and layers to cover things up and make them harder to understand and solve. Everything here is peeled back to reveal the sinew and muscle .. the capillaries of the thing. Being Tuchuk is about the bosk .. the land .. and the restless heart that drives us always onward.

Some people can not handle that. They need a piece of ground to call their own. They build walls to protect them from the wrath of the Sky and they put up fences to keep others from their piece of soil. It takes someone different to be a plainsman. Someone with a nomadic heart and soul. We never stay in one place long enough to plant a crop or sink roots. I suppose that is why we eat nothing from within the ground. There is always the search for grass .. a hungry bosk moving over the horizon and we follow right behind.

I think Falon understood what I had to say and I honestly do not believe she was trying to say something too different. It is not a popular or well received thing to say ... I am tired of the rough path ... give me a smooth one. But that is where I am at. I am not embarrassed to say it. It will not change anything .. I do not really believe the smooth path even exists ... anywhere. But I am a dreamer and I will not stop dreaming of a time and place where things are just a little bit easier... especially when I am sore and tired.